#I didn’t mean to suddenly spam you with notifs I realize that now

[damnwtfisgoingon]

random silly thing i thought up of after seeing @sm-baby's story The Eyes of Cats, wondered how an alien could care for a semi- blind human child 😭😭

[softomi]

now accepting boyfriend applications.

based on my fic idea: you’ve just become newly single, in a drunken fit, you posted a status indicating you’re accepting applications for your next boyfriend. Oddly, three boys take you up on that; sending in their most professional resumes for the position. It seems there’s some fierce competitors. 

next up: literature

It hurt, why wouldn’t it hurt. Your boyfriend of almost two years dumped you over text message with no warning and his reason? He just wasn’t feeling it anymore, what the fuck. Well, twenty phone calls, a hundred text messages sent to him, and a pretty nasty voicemail. The moment you realized just how crazy you were being was when you began pounding on his door at almost ten at night. His neighbors poking their head out to stare, and it really smacked you in the face how stupid you were being.

So you threw caution into the wind. it’s a Wednesday night, your first class tomorrow didn’t start until noon and you’re literature teacher was more of a lecturer so she probably won’t notice if you’re hung over. If anything, you could always ask the guy next to you for the notes.

Thus, you decide to throw back shots to your heart’s desire, sitting in the middle of your tiny studio apartment, on your bed to scream and cry at the romance movie. Love is dead. You groan loudly when your neighbor knocks against the wall, trying to tell you to promptly shut the fuck up.

Halfway through the movie, your mind is already swaying. Your throat stings just momentarily and you sip your cheap wine in hope it’ll dull the shots you had taken previously. When the male protagonist kisses the beautiful female of his dreams, you promptly chug the rest of the wine in your glass. Upset at their love, you wrap your lips around the tip of the wine bottle, drinking straight from it.

“I can find someone better.” You’ve reached a different point in your post break up sadness, you were mixed with anger, sadness, and an overall feeling of I’ll find someone with a better dick.

It’s never a good decision to post on social media while drunk, but it’s a great decision right now. You were going to post a ‘newly single’ status. Just to be nice and not spam everyone, you think you’ll just post it to your private account for your five friends to see. You’ve clearly neglected that step when you press post and it uploads to your public twitter account.

The urge to hurl takes priority over the sudden notifications on your phone. Your hair disheveled as you’re trying to hold onto the toilet, hold onto your hair, and throw up at the same time. The romance film comes to an end once you’ve fully emptied your stomach. You shove all the things off your bed, food falling onto the floor, empty bottle of wine rolled under your bed, remote lost somewhere. You fall asleep despite your cell phone going off.

The alarm jolts you, it causes you to scream, your palm slapping the snooze button and you aggressively pull the wire so that it comes out of the socket. Your head is throbbing and your cell phone is ringing at the same time. Annoyed, your hand stretches along the bed trying to find your cell. When you come emptyhanded, you sit up. Your hand steading the pulsing of your brain and you spot your phone ringing and vibrating on the ground.

“What?” You spit out, not bothering to look at the contact as you try to block out the sun.

“What do you mean what?” The voice snaps at you, “You post about boyfriend applications all of a sudden, did you guys break up?”

Of course he would be the one calling you, the person who loves gossip more than you do, “Tooru, can you like shut up for a second.” Your brain is dying and he’s over here trying to get the latest dish on your love life, “He dumped me okay.”

“That asshole.” He gasps, “Do you want me to come over?”

You look at the time on your cell briefly, “No. I have class all day. If you’re free later?”

“Of course!”

The phone call ends and rather than getting ready for the class you have in an hour, you’re checking your notifications. You have about twenty missed calls from Oikawa, another thirty text messages from him, he even left a voicemail; god he must have been desperate. Facebook is bland, you spent most of your time on Instagram deleting the photos of your now ex, and rarely do you ever get Twitter notifications. Oddly, you have fifteen notifications; all coming from your public account.

haha, boyfriend applications are official open. only taking serious apps lol

“No.” You sit up.

It wasn’t your post that freaked you out, it wasn’t that somehow it ended up on your public account, no you could delete it and pretend as if no one saw it but people saw it.

Is she serious?

If she is, I’m down.

What does serious applications mean?

Three comments, five likes, and four retweets.

And three unread messages.

Your finger rushes to delete the tweet before it can be retweeted even more by random classmates. All was good now. Your finger presses onto the message icon, you’re confronted with the icons of three of your classmates.

The most recent is from Miya Atsumu, a terrible flirt in your biology class. He chose the seat next to you in lab when his friends ditched him and hoarded their own table. He spun around in his chair, shooting you a cheeky grin when you briefly looked at him.

His first sentence was, “Hey you’re cute.”

And yours was, “I have a boyfriend.”.

You skip over his message upon spotting his use of sweetheart in the preview.

The next icon is of the guy in your intro to business class, Kuroo Tetsuro. The first time you saw him was outside of the classroom, you two ended up accidentally reaching the doors at the same time. He lets you go in first and the both of you chose the seats farthest from the board, and closest to the door. Despite his bed hair that made him look like he was going to sleep the entire class, he was a rather studious guy; chill but smart, he was a business major after all.

“Did you understand anything he was saying?” You murmur to him as you grab your bag.

“Of course!” He states, “I don’t look at twitter on my laptop when he’s lecturing.” Ah, he caught you.

Your eyes briefly scan the preview, he’s saying something about a resume and you think he’s talking about the homework assignment. You’re about to click on his first when the last catches your eye.

It’s from Akaashi Keiji. On the first day of class, you were late due to waiting in line for coffee. You awkwardly opened the door to the classroom, everyone turning to stare, and you lower your head, choosing a random seat that now you’re stuck with for the rest of the semester because that’s just how college works. The professor goes over the syllabus and suddenly announces that the person sitting to your right will be your revision partner for the semester.

“Hey.” You stop him and for a brief minute you feel your heart skip a beat because he was absolutely pretty, “Sorry, I’m Y/n. Since we’re going to be partners, do you want to exchange info?”.

“Uh. Sure. I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

“I’m going to be late for my business class. Do you have twitter?” You were never a fan of giving your phone number out. Before he can answer, you’re scribbling your username onto a piece of paper, placing it on his desk before running out to catch your next class.

His message is brief: Did you get my email?

You click his message first; it must have been urgent if he messaged and emailed you. There’s nothing else to his message, his previous one dates almost a week before his current one, telling you that he finished reading the book you recommended and that he enjoyed it.

The screen is pulled up with your finger, alternating apps to your personal email. The subject of his email simply reads Application.

Curiously, you click the attachment he’s sent with no body text. Your jaw dropped, hand placed over your open mouth and a small scream emitting.

“Is he fucking serious?”

His name is displayed at the top, along with his birthday, star sign, zodiac sign, age, even the pronouns he uses. There’s a short sentence under it. I am submitting an application for the position of Boyfriend. You’re internally screaming, blinking fast hoping that this was a joke but his ‘application’ reads like a resume. It lists his education from middle school to his current, his previous jobs, his skills, and his own personal goals for the future.

Your blushing profusely, you want to pull your hair, scream, even throw your phone but you shove down the feelings that want to have you die of embarrassment. You don’t have the energy to sadly explain to him that you were drunk and weren’t serious; ugh and you’re going to have to continue seeing him for the rest of the semester.

You revert back to twitter; your heart suddenly drops when you think about Kuroo’s message. Quickly, you pull up the messages, clicking his and suddenly you want dig yourself a grave because he’s sent a link to a pdf and it’s simply titled Resume. He probably used a resume template and never changed the title.

And sure enough, it’s a fucking professional resume declaring the certain skills he has to be your boyfriend. In fact, like the professional business major he is, he includes a letter of intent; indicating his reasons of interest for the position. It details the little quirks he finds cute about you. You want to break your phone in half with how red in the face you feel.

As you exit his message, you’re slowly praying that Atsumu’s message is just a random flirty comment that he occasionally likes to throw you once in a while or perhaps you’re hoping that he fell in a ditch and you won’t have to work with him for the rest of the semester since he almost blew up the lab station last time.

Nope, it’s a link to a google document. Oddly, you click it. Your heart has sunk to the pit of the earth because when you open the document, you see his fucking name in the upper right corner indicating he’s still on the stupid document.

Fuck fuck fuck. You’re running away from the document, aggressively leaving the page but it doesn’t help that when you end up back at your twitter messages, you can see the three dots, telling you he’s typing.

Morning sweetheart hope you enjoy the app

He sends it with a flirty wink and you stare at it for five full minutes. Curiosity gets the best of you and you click back onto his link, he’s no longer on the same document and you sigh safely. For someone who’s barely passing biology, his document was rather professionally detailed. Damn, he’s on the school’s volleyball team? Weirdly the page cuts off halfway, you continue to scroll until the next title page boldly states: Bedroom skills.

It didn’t help that you were scrolling a little too fast and caught sight of an image showing off his toned upper body. There goes his professionalism.

Your phone suddenly blares low battery, your screen turns black and now your anxiety is through the roof. You jump on your bed, trying to plug in your phone and you’ve just now realized that it is thirty minutes until your first class starts and it is literature. You’re scrambling to find your laptop, you trip on the bag of chips from last night, awkwardly trying to stand as you reach for your school bag.

“Shit!” You scream. You suddenly remember letting your stupid ex-boyfriend borrow your laptop.

You fall to the floor, fingers pulling your hair as you suddenly think about the deep shit your in. First, your boyfriend dumped you, now you randomly have three guys who sent you applications to be your next boyfriend and you’re still going to have to see them for the rest of the semester if you reject them. Lastly, you’re going to have to go to your ex’s place to get your laptop after having made a scene yesterday, and your phone is dead so you can’t cry to Oikawa about the deep shit you’re in.

[mizunetzu]

I just skipped school and binge read all of your fanfics- They’re really good gRRRRrrr 🥺🥺 Keep up the good work!! That being said- Can I request a fluffy Hawks x male reader where the reader has a cold and is stuck in bed and Hawks takes care of him? Thank you vv much!!!

HAHHAHA WHY IS ALL MY HAWKS REQUESTS ALWAYS FLUFF (I mean ur like my second one but it’s still flufF) (and not that this wasn’t fun to write cuz it was HAAHA I’m lowkey proud)

(Also gRRRRur so nice but GO TO SCHOOL >:( BARK BARKK BAEKR)

——————

Hawks x reader - The Sick Fic

⚠️warnings - it’s as the title says. It’s the sick fic.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) coughed up sticky red blood.

“Y-yeah, no. I don’t think I can patrol today, Yusha-san. The villain from yesterday activated their quirk on me-and I’m feeling a bit sick.”

Yusha, the secretary to the (L/n) hero agency, typed something down on his computer. “Is it something we should be concerned about?”

“No.” (Y/n) croaked out with a chuckle. “Their quirk isn’t really dangerous, but it did make me a bit sick. It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

“Ok. I’ll send in one of your sidekicks to patrol with Hawks-san today.” More typing from across the phone. (Y/n) pursed his lips.

“U-uh,”

“Don’t worry. I’m sending a male sidekick.” Yusha practically read his mind. (Y/n) didn’t want any stupid girls hitting on his stupid, popular, pro-hero patrol buddy boyfriend.

“Thank you, Yusha-san.”

“It’s nothing. Get some rest, (H/n). We expect you to show up tomorrow.” Yusha ended up before (Y/n) could even say goodbye. He lazily dropped his phone onto his bedside table, burying himself under his bedsheets as best as he could. Just as he was getting comfy, the urge to cough up more blood kicked him in the stomach.

He flung himself over his bed, practically shoving his head into the small waste bin under his bedside table. He wiped his mouth with his forearm after hacking up more blood, his head suddenly feeling hazy and jumbled.

He groaned, and got under the bedsheets once more. The world seemed to be against him today, as another distraction forced him out from his beauty sleep.

His phone buzzed once. Twice. Then the annoying, overlapping ring of multiple messages being spammed buzzed out his phone, making (Y/n) cover his ears with his pillow.

Annoyed, he patted around the side table til’ his hand landed on his phone, pulling it towards him and under the sheets.

‘Keigo 🍗 - where r u :(‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - who’s this...rando dude patrolling wit me :(((‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - r u asleep or smth’

‘Keigo 🍗 - wake up ur late to patrol and I need my yakitori addiction funded today’

‘Keigo 🍗 - DUDE’

‘Keigo 🍗 - BBBBBBBBBB’

‘Keigo 🍗 - IM NOT GONNA STOP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWER ME OR SHOW UP AN PATROL WITH ME >:(((‘

(Y/n) sighed. He opened the messages, meaning that Keigo would get the ‘message read’ notification, but he couldn’t care less. Tossing the phone lazily on the table, he muted the messages app.

———

(Y/n) stirred in his sleep when he heard tapping on his bedroom window. (Y/n) opened his sticky eyes, barely open enough to see a blurry red object tapping against the glass frame. Eventually, the object halted, gave up, and swooped down and out of sight. He shrugged.

Just as he closed his eyes, more pelting came from the window, this time louder and heavier. (Y/n) snapped his eyes open, flinging himself out of bed, and getting ready to activate his quirk.

He visibly relaxed when he saw the huge red wings tapping outside the window, with a certain hero crouching down, looking at him sheepishly and trying to pick open the window lock. The man waved with an embarrassed smile, his feathers following suit.

“Keigo Takami. What the fuck are you doing in my house.”

The man, Keigo Takami, chuckled awkwardly while (y/n) undid the clasps on his window. He stepped back, allowing him to worm his way in through the small window.

Keigo paused, half way squeezed in with his wings stuck in the cramped window frame. He was stuck. “Y...you need to buy a bigger window-“

“Are you dumb?” (Y/n) chuckled, the sight of Pro Hero Hawks, man who could pull absolute pussy, bent over his bedroom window, stuck with his wings awkwardly fluttering in place. “Just, I don’t know, send your feathers off until they’re small enough to fit you in.”

Keigo had a wave of realization. This man had no braincells whatsoever. “...oh, haha, you’re so smart~”

One by one, feathers jutted out from his back, each floating either inside (Y/n’s) room or outside the window. Once all of them were off, and his back were relatively empty, he tumbled ever-so-gracefully inside the room. He stood up, his wings rebuilding themselves in seconds, and did an awful curtsy.

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all day to take care of my sick patrol partner who do happens to be my boyfriend,”

“Speaking of patrol -what happened to patrol? A-and the dude you should be patrolling with? You should be out by n-“

A sharp, piercing pain shot through (Y/n’s) head. Now that the adrenaline from Hawks pounding on his window was subsiding, he seemed to remember how much his head was hurting.

He fumbled down, catching himself on the foot of his bed while Keigo lurched forward. “You good?” He mumbled, taking off his black wool glove.

He rested the back of his palm on (Y/n’s) forehead, before signing uncontently and replacing his hand with his lips. Even if he was burning up, (Y/n) froze.

After a while, Keigo drew his head back. “You’re burning up...”

Silence. Hawks awkwardly chuckled and played it off by running his hand through his hair.

“Lips are more sensitive than hands are-so I was just...you need to get to bed!” Keigo quickly stood up, gently ushering the sick hero to his bed. Pulling up the thick-set covers, Keigo hazily tosses his jacket to the corner and discarded his other glove.

“Try and get some rest. Did that dude’s quirk from yesterday do this?” He got a nod in response. “Alright. I’m gonna go change and get you some shit.”

With that and a warm smile, Keigo disappeared through the bedroom door. (Y/n) followed him with his eyes, right before he was out of sight, then let his eyes droop close.

———

“Pssst.”

A finger poked at (Y/n’s) cheek. He grumbled, furrowing his brows and keeping his eyes screwed shut. He heard a sigh from somewhere above him.

Something feathery tickled him from underneath his nose. He scrunched his nose up, expecting the odd feeling to go away, before feeling a sneeze build up. The watery feeling course through his nose before his head shot up every-so-slightly to let out a weak “Achoo!”

Keigo snickered. (Y/n) finally opened his eyes. Keigo was sitting beside him, now in casual clothes, holding a convince store bag and a red feather. The feather flew out of his hand and stuck itself on his back.

“Sorry I was out for so long. You didn’t have jack shit in your house, so I bought some medicine and takeout since I know you won’t eat soup and I can’t cook.”

It was true. The only thing Pro Hero Hawks is allowed to do is heat up a hotdog, and even then he might break the microwave. And (Y/n) won’t eat soup he made if his life depended on it. If he can’t even turn on the stove, what makes you think that he’d drink a whole bowl of soup made by him and not die?

“Whad’ja get?” (Y/n’s) voice came out more gravely and deep than he expected. Under different circumstances, that would’ve been kinda hot. Keigo pulled out things one by one from the bag.

“Ok so, I got painkillers, a cooling pack, a heating pad just in case your stomach starts hurting, a thermometer, and I found these cool matching red bird keychains and I bought them on impulse. One for you and one for me~ I also bought 2 beef bowls”

Keigo layed all the items down either on the bed or on the table beside it, holding up the keychains last. Shaking them around a bit, turns out there was a small bell inside both of them. (Y/n) tried, and failed, to hide his growing smile.

Keigo placed the cooling pack on (Y/n’s) previously burning forehead. The sudden coldness forced an involuntary groan from the bed sick male. He chuckled.

“Sorry. Deal with that for awhile and I’ll feed you~” Hawks saddled up in the spot next to him, holding the two plastic bowls and worming his way underneath the covers. He placed the food down on his lap and switched on the tv.

They sat in silence, the only thing being the sounds of the tv filling the room with the occasional reaction or snicker from the two. Keigo alternated between shoveling a forkful of rice and beef into his mouth, then feeding his boyfriend and carefully making sure none spilled onto his bed. The news reporter droned on onscreen, their voice being tuned out by the two hero’s.

“By the way, Keigo,” (Y/n) started, once he swallowed his food. Keigo gave a hum of acknowledgment, holding up a finger to (y/n), then to his mouth until he finished chewing. Thickly swallowing, Keigo hummed again.

“You were supposed to patrol today. With one of my sidekicks. What happened to that?”

Keigo looked at (Y/n), before looking back at the tv so causally. For a while he said nothing, until he opened his mouth.

“I ditched.”

(Y/n) made a sputtering noise. His shock turned into a long string of hacks and coughs, which Keigo waited ever-so-patiently for him to calm down from. “You ditched?! Keigo, you’re the no. 2 hero! You can’t be caught ditching!”

“Relaaaaax,” Keigo leaned farther into the bed cushions. “I told my agency and your stupid sidekick man that I was gonna check on you. It was a valid excuse.”

“Still!” (Y/n) rubbed at his temples. Hawks shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. “You’re sitting here watching tv with me instead of working!”

“I needed a break. Plus,” Keigo held up his unfinished bowl of food defensively.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I love you too~”

(Y/n) sighed.

“I hope you get sick.” Hawks chuckled, saying something about being immune to all sicknesses.

Needless to say, (y/n) was patrolling with one of Keigos sidekicks the next day.

——————

[amazingphilza]

snapchat :: c!tommy x reader

fluff / angst , platonic , gender neutral ! first request whoop whoop :D [check pinned for more info on requests]

synopsis: ‘what’s so bad about adding every person on snapchat?’ tommy thought. unknowingly, with all the other people he begins talking to during exile, one ends up being you; tubbo’s younger sibling. that is until you both visit tommy in logstedshire.

cw: i purposely misspell a few words for the texting part, i hope it’s still readable for y’all! and i haven’t actually used snapchat in years so let’s pretend i know what i’m doing :)

tommy smiled at his brand new phone

first thing he does? install snapchat and reddit

if he couldn’t talk to his best friends face to face anymore, at least he had people online to talk to, right?

tommy hoped from all his possessions dream would destroy, he could at least keep a phone

without much thought, tommy opened snapchat and began adding every account and messaging them the same obnoxious message

BE MY FRIEND . MESSAGE BACK NOW.

most people chose ignore tommy, not having a clue why he was messaging them

but as for you, when you had the notification that someone added you on snapchat and started aggressively messaging you, it made you curious

you read their user

“wife haver”?? huh???

instead of immediately blocking the person, you replied back

what?

not even less than a second later you get a reply back

OH MY GOD FINALLY SOMEONE

IM DYING

without context, you were more than confused

genuinely dying is very alarming but you shouldn’t text a random stranger your last words

huh?

THE GREEN BASTARD TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME

YOURE ALL I HAVE LEFT

plwase helo

Help

where did tou go

Ohm hgod

hHello?

NOOOO NOT YOU TOO

PLEASR

you laughed at the person’s desperation and ignored the messages

if the stranger wasn’t going introduce themselves, you wouldn’t either

however, after a while you realized you had over 100 snapchat notifications within an hour of trying to ignore the person

however it was just jumbled up words and useless spam, nothing important

as if the stranger would said anything important to your concern anyway

do you ever shut up??

fuck you

a normal person wouldve taken offense by these messages but you found them quite amusing

it wasn’t like you had anything else better to do

and this acceptance was the start of your odd friendship with the stranger

you were still on edge because you had no idea who they were and their intentions but the anonymity was mutual nonetheless

if the desperate spamming “wife haver” isn’t going to formally tell you who they actually were, you weren’t going to risk exposing yourself first

but in the past few weeks, you and the person had normal conversations apart from the first day they messaged you

well as normal as you could’ve expected from someone named “wife haver”

they were the first to send an actual snap as well

that was when you found out the “wife haver” was an obnoxious boy that looked around your age, maybe a slightly older

he had sent you a photo of him holding a thumbs up and trying to smile when he was clearly upset

just got all my stuff exploded again, feeling good

you noticed his messy blonde hair and tattered clothes

what the hell happened to this guy?

part of you was confused, and the other was concerned

u good bro??

well

i don’t have anymore tools and materials if that’s anything

so no

this is shit

lmao it was probably deserved

FUCK YOU!!!!!

im kidding that’s sad

but like do u actually need stuff?

you contemplated sending your next message and thought of the consequences

but in the end, you were probably better off than him so if he did try to do something suspicious, you could easily just leave with your trident or defend yourself

i can bring some things over if you’d like

please oh my god it’s so boring here

where the hell do you even live???

it finally hit that you would be visiting this mysterious person

you never really had much to do during the day and he had nothing against your enchanted netherite armor when compared to his worn-out clothes

you were surprised that he was quick to be comfortable with you visiting him so continued to message the boy

if you live nearby i can just stop over and bring some spare diamond tools and armor if you’d like or smth

DIAMOND !,?’/:@!?:/-',(

ya sure lol

WTF

GOOD SHIT LAD! THANKS

WHEN DO U WANT TO VISIT???

his shock and excitement made you smile

maybe this wasn’t a bad idea

before replying, you quickly ran to your storage room you gather your spare items

instead of normally texting, you decided to take a picture of all the enchanted tools and armor and send back a snap

i’m down for tomorrow, turn on your snapmaps so i can come by ;D

he quickly replied back with handfuls of ‘holy shits’ and ‘YEAHS’

you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear which caught the attention of your older brother who had just walked in to get blocks from the wall of chests

“ew why are you smiling at your phone like that?”

“oh shut up, tubbo”

“it’s weird”

you roll your eyes at him in a playful matter

“whatever! i’m gonna be out tomorrow to visit a friend, okay?”

“you have friends? wow, sounds like a first”

“you’re such a dick!!” you yell at him whilst trying to hold in your laughter

“oh yeah? go on, tell me about this friend of yours then. meeting strangers online, hm?”

“if you’re so concerned, you can come with if you’re not busy with whatever a president does. i promise they’re not some weirdo like you”

tubbo’s tone was sarcastic but he agreed then left you to your own thoughts

you were excited for tomorrow that you were restless in your bed when nighttime had came

somehow you managed to fall asleep from tiredness in the middle of the night

soon enough it was morning

before doing anything, you checked your phone and went through all your notifications

you then checked snapchat, browsing snapmaps and realized how far you had to travel

despite the long travel, you brought yourself up from your bed and gathered all the items you were going to bring

you stuffed a full set of enchanted diamond armor, tools, and over a stack of golden carrots all in your inventory

after finishing all your preparations, you searched for your older brother

with just a loud yell of his name he appeared almost instantly

“you ready to go, tubbo?”

“yep! you know where you’re going right?”

you scoffed at the question

“of course!”

and with that, the two of you traveled on foot until you reached the ocean

you had brought 2 boats with you knowing that you couldn’t imagine being in the same boat as your brother; it would’ve ended up in endless bickering

after a while of being at sea, tubbo started to become impatient

“what the hell! how far does this person live, y/n??”

“i dunno!”

you knew the general direction you were supposed to be going to after studying your snapmaps all morning but you couldn’t check how much farther it would take to get there; there was obviously no signal in the middle of the ocean

it felt like forever before you saw land in the horizon

suddenly you regained all the energy you have lost from rowing

“there!! that place with the white tent, i can barely see it”

“finally”

with the burst of energy, you got to land in no time

the moment you got off your boat, the blonde spotted the two of you and ran in your direction

once appearing nearly feet apart, he stared at your brother who also had the shocked expression

“TOMMY?”

“TUBBO?”

your brother had more of a confused expression whilst the other boy seemed a bit mad

maybe he was always mad considering the endless conversations you had with him ranting about some ‘green bastard’

but tubbo quickly got defensive, stepping in front of you

you didn’t understand how they knew each other beforehand, but at the same time you never caught up with tubbo’s friends either

you needed answers

“what’s going on?”

“y/n! you were messaging tommy this whole time? why didn’t you tell me?”

tubbo was clearly frustrated and a feeling of guilt washed over you

it didn’t click that you never exchanged names and admitting it did not seem believable

tubbo was in complete shock, trying to process everything that was happening

“WHAT?! AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TALKING?”

you mumbled out your words

“a few weeks, i can’t remember”

“uh, yeah sorry” tommy had confirmed your statements. “i didn’t even know you had a sibling, tubbo! i actually didn’t know their name until now as well..”

“HUH??”

“but if i knew i was messaging a tub-ling, i wouldn’t have in the first place!”

“what the fuck tommy!!!”

“no, but how do you even know each other?” you had interrupt the two

tubbo had chosen his words carefully

“we’re... friends”

tommy had seemed upset at this

“tubbo....”

“no, don’t talk to me, tommy. you were exiled for a reason. y/n? give him the stuff you wanted to him and let’s go, this was a waste of time”

you were saddened but obliged, you didn’t want to anger your brother even more

“fuck you, tubbo! can’t believe this was how you visit me for the first time, i don’t even want your pity shit”

before you could react, tubbo led you to the back of his boat

he got in the front and quickly rowed away from the land you barely stayed on, leaving your boat behind on the shores

you looked back at tommy who already had left back to his tent

the boat ride was silent and full of sorrow until you arrived back at l’manburg

once you got home you immediately opened snapchat to message tommy

hey tommy i’m really sorry about today. i had no idea,,,

you thought he would’ve ignored your message but instead replied right after

but your heart sank at reading the message

it’s fine

i think it’s best we stop talking y/n

you didn’t want to lose a friend so quickly but after all the tension from today, you didn’t know how to come back from it

so instead of arguing you agreed, even if it wasn’t honest

yeah, me too

and that was the last message you sent to tommy

even though the whole situation was confusing from the start, it didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the random conversations you had

the bizarre encounter was unforgettable

it made you even sadder when you realized the first time you two used each other’s names through text would also be the last

a/n: ngl, i didn’t think i would finish this on a kinda angsty ending but here we are! and grrr it’s 4am and i just wanted to finish this,, let’s hope there aren’t that many grammar mistakes LMAO anyway i hope y’all enjoyed <3

[obae-me]

MC With PTSD

Word Count: 5068

Author’s Note: Thank you to the anon who requested this, due to a weird glitch your request got deleted, but I didn’t forget about it! I did my best to do some research since I’m not an expert on PTSD, so I apologize if this is not accurate.

Warning: Possible Trigger Warnings, Read Safely

Lucifer

He didn’t notice the symptoms at first. Don’t get him wrong, he’s highly observant. It’s just, for one, he’s not an expert in human behavior, and two, MC was doing a damn good job keeping themselves under control. If there were any abnormalities in their behavior, he first chalked it up to them getting adjusted to their new environment. 

That was, until the little signs didn’t go away with passing days, and they even became more severe. He would be lying if it said it didn’t make him anxious.

He was at RAD with MC during lunch, taking the break to not only get to know them better, but help them study should they need it. They had been perfectly fine then, maybe still not fully looking into his eyes while he talked, but open and content. They then went up to go to the restroom. When they came back, they were almost a different person. Their jaw was clenched, eyes glassy, the skin on their hand red from them scratching. 

“MC...is something wrong?” 

“No.” 

They spit the word out at him, coming out before he had even fully finished his question. He knew they were upset, but he loathed their tone. What had he done to deserve their venom? He straightened up in his seat, eyes lowered in a squint. 

“MC-” 

“What?” 

They hissed, much too jumpy and irritable. He was doing his best to stay level-headed, but it was driving him up a wall. He had done nothing to warrant how they were speaking to him. No one spoke to him like that. But before he could even attempt to lecture them, MC stood up, pushed their seat over, and with their hair balled up in their hands, they ran off. He called out their name, but was too stunned to follow them. He was left dizzy with such a powerful whirlwind of emotions in such a short amount of time. 

He gave them time to cool off, packing up their things, trying to ignore the worry starting to build up in his chest. He sighed. He was certain now that, even among humans, this was abnormal behavior. He scolded himself, he should’ve done something about it sooner. He put off his concern for the time being and continued his busy day at RAD, hoping work would distract these feelings of his. 

Hours passed, the school day came to a close, and Lucifer still had MC’s bag. He waited by the front door, D.D.D in hand, doing his best not to crush the device in his hands when MC wasn’t returning his multiple texts and calls. He kept tapping his foot against the ground. All of his other brothers confirmed that they hadn’t seen MC since before they went out with him to lunch. 

The time for worrying was now. 

He would check every office, every room, every corner of RAD if he had to. It took him hours of scouring the school building to find them. They had been in a dark dusty classroom that had been temporarily abandoned to be redecorated. They were under the teacher’s desk, knees into their chest, D.D.D thrown across the room near some flipped over desks. His notifications were all noted on the front screen. When MC heard his sharp footsteps, they tried sneaking further away into the darkness, covering their ears with their hands with a whimper. The closer Lucifer got, the more he could see them shaking. 

He got to his knees, calling out their name in a soft voice, hand extended to help them up should they want it. Upon hearing his voice, their head snapped up at him, looking panicked as it took them much too long to recognize who he was. 

“L-Lucifer?” Their voice sounded weak. They reached out to take his hand, and once they did, Lucifer gently held them close to his chest. He didn’t know why, he wasn’t one much for physical affection, but, the way they looked, like they weren’t aware of their surroundings...maybe this would help ground them back to place. 

In the safety of their home, the warm fire in the study giving off a peaceful glow, MC told him about it. Not everything, they weren’t ready for that yet. The teacup in their hands was still discovering it hard to stay steady. They told him enough, brushing over the traumatic event they experienced in the past, and then the thing in the hallway they saw that triggered them. They even told him how their many sudden and panic-inducing phone notifications made them feel, but then apologized for it. 

They...apologized, why? Why indeed when it should’ve been him to say ‘I’m sorry’. The only reason why he hadn’t said it yet was because he was doing his best to stay calm, working hard to not destroy anyone that would dare make them feel like that, not realizing the pen in his hand had already snapped in two. 

He got up, putting his coat around their shoulders, sitting down beside them. He was thankful they told him, even though he would’ve loved to be aware of this so much sooner for both of their sake’s. He put a supportive hand on the top of their head, fingers entangled in their hair, and told them to come to him immediately should they ever be triggered or panicked again. It didn’t matter when, where, why, he wanted them to come to him. 

He would work on not spamming their phone, and it was his own personal project to ensure that the scum in both the human and demon world were eradicated. He’d use whatever power he had to help them and make them safe. He knows what to look out for now, and it pleases him when MC comes to him for help so he can put his coat around them and bring them in his arms. He hates seeing him like this, but having him be their source of comfort, their safe space, boosts his pride greatly. 

Mammon

Of course he didn’t know. How was he supposed to figure it out, on his own? He was just supposed to come to that conclusion based on their actions when he didn’t even know how humans acted in the first place? 

This is what he kept telling himself, at least, when he made MC spiral into a panic attack. 

He didn’t mean to, seriously, he didn’t. He didn’t know, he didn’t know. He had them in his arms, rocking them back and forth, almost resorting to praying to his own father for them to stop. He didn’t know. 

He had been angry. Not quite Satan level angry, but close. He was tired, irritated, and his brother's relentless teasing had crossed the line for the day. His siblings knew when to stop, when they had taken things too far, and left him alone for the time being, but MC was unaware that giving him space was the best choice. They wanted to comfort him, to make him feel better, to bring him back to his usual carefree self. They cared for him. 

They approached him from behind in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. It was dark, but they could make out the silhouette of his wings against dim moonlight. He was already in his demon form, having probably been in it all day. An aura of emotions surrounded him, and already MC could feel it. They felt prickling on their skin, their hands already turning clammy. MC reached out to him, calling his name. 

Mammon twirled around quickly, his wings puffing up from his hips. He didn’t mean to touch them, but his wings had reacted so suddenly, it knocked their hand back and made them lose balance. They lost their footing and fell back to the floor with a squeak. They looked up at him to only see his eyes glowing, his fists tightened into balls. 

“What do you want? Eh? To be like everyone else? Tell me that I’m scummy? Joke about me?”

He took a step toward them in the dim light. 

“Tease me?”

He was unaware of their expression still. 

“Why don’t you say so-“ He finally stopped, his wings lowering. They had their arms up over their face, their entire body trembling. The noise of buzzing in his ears died down enough to hear that they were only taking gasping breaths like they couldn’t breathe. They started rocking themselves back and forth on the floor, their fingers digging into their own skin. In between breaths they were muttering quietly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

He fell to his knees, hesitating about even touching MC after what he’d done to them. Then he wrapped them in a tight hug, not entirely sure what to do. He had to bite his own lip to keep from panicking himself. He buried his head in their shoulder. 

“Hey...hey huma-MC-don't be sorry. I’m sorry, please breathe.” 

Levi stepped out of his room to get angry at the commotion, but one look at the situation and the death glare from Mammon made him lower his head and leave them alone. When MC finally calmed down, they were exhausted and embarrassed, too numb for any more crying. He took the both of them back to his room to relax and talk things out so both of them could understand each other’s feelings better. 

MC told him about it, how because of one event in their life, they were prone to panic attacks and meltdowns. They curled up on his couch and told them how pathetic they were. He had to cling to them, bury his nose in their hair and told them not to worry. If anyone was pathetic and scummy, he was. 

He’ll cling to their side much more often. He’ll come to MC whenever he feels like that again so he won’t lash out at them. If any other brother gets riled up and attempts to cross the line, Mammon will be there to stop them. He’d rather have his siblings take out their anger on him than MC. 

Levi

He’s typically quite calm in public, most likely due to his social anxiety. He’s quiet, skittish, and shy. He only ever opens up and comes out of his shell when he’s home. Since he also stays in his room alone most of the time, neither him nor MC were aware of how the others acted under stressful situations. 

He should’ve noticed the signs since sometimes he exhibited similar symptoms. Avoiding interactions when possible, the anxiety, the isolation. He just couldn’t get out of his own head enough to realize what that meant. He was too focused on his own problems, on comparing himself to others. 

It took multiple match losses, cocky rivals, and stupid teammates before he got his reality check. He wanted to get to hang out more with MC. He’d ignore the fact that Lucifer and some of his other brothers had highly encouraged (or threatened) him to spend some time with the human. He thought of it himself. It was most assuredly his plan. So he allowed them to trespass into his room to play some games with him. Maybe something light. Like maybe some high ranked battle-heavy online matches. Something simple.

Whether they were good at gaming or not, the concept and controls were brand new to them, and so they kept dying. Repeatedly. They found out the hard way that demons are even worse sports when it came to losing than humans were. Once Levi had been ridiculed enough and lost some precious ranks along the way, he snapped. MC could feel him start to lose it, and they took it upon themselves to apologize.

“Levi, I’m sorry, I’ll stop playing. I’m no good. I’ll leave, I’ll-“

The room turned colder as he turned demon. The controller in his hands snapped, and then quickly splintered, circuitry and plastic shards falling into his lap. Even if it wasn’t a huge display, even if he wasn’t directing anything towards them, just the sound of something breaking and the look on Levi’s face was enough to send MC into full blown distress. 

MC jumped in their seat, letting out a loud scream, covering their ears with their hands at the sound of destruction. Their reaction caused Levi to almost do the same thing, the last thing he expected was to hear MC shriek. He shook his anger and envy out of his head.

“It’s okay, I have plenty of extra controllers!” He did his best to assure them that he was okay, still unable to realize that while he might be fine, MC was not. He went to put a hand on their shoulder. They flinched from his touch, scrambling backwards with their hands towards his door. Once they made it to their feet, they ran away from him. He got up as quick as he could, following them out his door. All sorts of thoughts were running through his head, most of them self destructive ones, but amidst them all, the thought first and foremost was ‘make sure MC is okay.’ 

Their wobbly and unstable legs had caused them to fall to the floor again, trying to get back up using the wall as support. Once they saw Levi was approaching, they dropped to their hands and knees, unable to say words through their tears and air-deprived lungs. 

There were now two sobbing messes on the floor. As if he didn’t hate himself already, now seeing how he made MC feel made the self loathing worse than losing any rank. He apologized profusely, and out of the two of them, MC was actually the first to stop crying. 

With Levi and MC wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, on a cold hard floor in the middle of a hallway, MC told him what had happened to them. They discussed who was involved, and how they never were the same since. It was the first time Levi ever dared put himself above someone, above the trash that dared call themselves human. The maggots that ever thought about harming MC. His friend. His best friend.

Toxic gamer who? Levi doesn’t know them. Gaming sessions are much calmer now, and he’ll always make sure he knows trigger warnings on shows or games so he can filter those ones out of the stuff he shares with MC. He’ll do his best to make sure they enjoy themselves and that they’re kind to themselves. 

Satan

He had read several books on mental illness, partly because It fascinated him, another part because he liked using his knowledge to figure out how messed up his siblings were. It was a fun dinner discussion. Help them please So he was aware of the symptoms MC possessed. The way they acted, how they spoke to people, how they would avoid specific things. He was still far away from being a psychologist, though, so even he wasn’t sure how severe it was. He did tend to notice that MC shied away from him anytime he got close to raising his voice or losing his temper. So, for that reason, despite being the demon of wrath, anytime MC was around, he’d be better than anyone else at controlling his emotions. 

He was unprepared for an actual hands on experience. No matter how many times he had read about it, no matter how descriptive and in depth the words were, real life was vastly different from books. He’d admit it was his fault, he was rarely wrong, but when he was wrong, he wasn’t as prideful as his older brother to apologize. 

It had been a day of many firsts. The first day he invited MC to come watch this old documentary with him. The first time he had such an overwhelming emotion other than anger. The first time someone had screamed in terror when he hadn't specifically been the reason why. And it was the first time he had heard MC scream.

It was a simple documentary about history, and he had ensured it was human history not Devildom history. He thought it was easier to swallow and simpler to relate to. While that might’ve been the case, even he was shocked to find that just the simple history of a single statue would have so much death and abuse. He’d have to thoroughly check these from now on. He had no idea the sound of a gunshot through a television screen would do so much damage. 

MC shrieked, and I mean banshee style. All the hairs on Satan’s body stood up on ends. Their body convulsed so badly, they smacked their head on the back of the couch, a little bit of blood already clotting. They had their hair balled up in their hands, some loose strands torn free, dangling from their fingers.

“No, no, no!” 

They wailed loudly causing Satan, who was usually calm, to panic. He was used to being angry towards people, not comforting them. The first thing he did was cover them with his body, fighting through their flailing and smacking as they continued to howl in distress. He made sure they couldn’t do any more harm to themselves, using his body as a shield. Their episode was a mixture of fear and anger, doing their best to throw Satan off their body. He refused to let them go, his legs wrapped around theirs, and using his arms to best keep their limbs and head from smacking off the surface of more furniture. At one point, MC’s forehead smacked against his temple making a more than concerning sound. He pressed his own head between their neck, his shoulder wedged on the other side to try to keep their head steady.

“MC, MC! Breathe! Breathe…” 

He knew how to ground them, how to use their senses to bring them back to him. He made sure they breathed in for four counts, and then out for four. He watched as the thrashing stopped, the screams turned to squeaks as their throat started to give way. He continued to hold onto them, even after their attack had stopped, head buried into their shoulder till he was sure they were okay. He was also busy hiding his glassy eyes in their body, his ears still ringing. 

When all was said and done, he asked MC if it was possible to give him a written list of all their triggers. All books, all movies, all forms of entertainment would be going through him first to make sure they were safe for MC. He would be checking their school work, the school’s lesson plans, and it was one of the few times he actively worked with Lucifer on this. Both of them spending hours pouring over the curriculum. 

He was going to figure out for himself what had happened to MC, since he didn’t want to bother them or make them upset again. The only one who should be worried was anyone who had thought they had the right to make MC experience something like that. He was going to ensure they went through it ten times worse. 

Asmo

He’s an expert in body language, so he knew something was up, he just had no idea what. He noticed how slumped their posture would get around other people, how they used their arms to hug themselves. He could see the way they nervously picked at their skin or hair when someone mentioned stressful exams. He saw how they refused to look in the mirror. It bothered him. He assumed they were uncomfortable in their own body, and he had just the solution. To make sure they loved their body as much as he did.

While he had good intentions, the demonic side of him just took it to a different level. He had invited them to his bedroom, everything nice and cozy, perfect enough for royalty. He made sure he looked great--but he always did--and he wanted MC to feel the same. Surely, the dopamine hit from what he had planned tonight would make them feel better, and make them love their own body all the same. 

So he set the mood, maybe flattered them a bit too much, to be fair. He was so overwhelmed with lust, he didn’t notice how uncomfortable they were. He let them sit on his bed, telling him how soft it was and quiet to boot. Then he made a mistake, taking their laughter and compliments too far as he moved in too close to them and reached for their shirt. Their pupils turned into pinpricks, and as their immediate instinct, they brought their legs up to kick him. Before their knee reached his face, he grabbed it, probably too tightly. They shouted, and before he could say anything, they slapped him. It didn’t sting nearly as much as it would’ve on another human, but it did its job. He was stunned, left alone in his room to gawk at his empty bed as MC ran away, pale as a ghost. 

Luckily, it didn’t break skin or leave him scarred, just a bit red, so he would survive. He was surprisingly more worried about MC other than his complexion. He followed after them, discovering them in the bathroom, the door still left wide open in a haste. They were vomiting, tears in their eyes, throat scratched up to hell and back, legs shaking. He had been to many parties before, so he knew what to do. He naturally came over, making sure the hair was out of their face, that they had water, that they especially knew how sorry he was. They flinched under his touch at first, their skin burning and tingling with anxiety. Then they let him pet their head as they got it out.

“I’m so sorry, dear, I crossed a line.”

The effort of expulsion had left MC exhausted, and they moved away from him, head low with shame. They attempted to make their way to bed, to put this all behind both of them. He refused to let them go, not until they had brushed their teeth and had something to drink to make sure they stayed healthy. It was the least he could do. He monitored them as they did so, nervously playing with his own hair to keep him distracted. He did this to them, he did. He should’ve been lust, making people fall for him, making people feel good, not terrified. He felt wrong. 

“MC...I’m so sorry...can you tell me?” 

If they weren’t already weak and dissociated from the situation, they might never have explained to him what happened, what someone had done. They left out explicit details, but he had heard enough. Lust wasn’t like that, was it? He wasn’t like that, was he? He’d change, he’d be better, he promised. He asked MC if it was okay if he gave them a hug. He almost cried when they said yes. He wrapped them up in the sweetest, safest hug a demon could give. 

He doesn’t lay a single finger on MC without asking them first. He makes sure all the brothers do the same. Somehow, even when he’s not around, he’ll know if someone even bumped into them at RAD. Consent for everything and everyone, and if someone dares think otherwise, Asmo is not afraid to get his hands dirty. He moisturizes. 

Beel

He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s just not the best at human behavior. He’ll associate MC with aspects of his brothers and just think that it’s normal. He loves his brothers, and he loves MC too, so the signs that should’ve been concerning didn’t click. The way MC liked to keep to themselves was just like Levi and Satan. The way they worked themselves too hard and seemingly didn’t have an enjoyment for more entertaining things, just like Lucifer. He’s almost too accepting, taking things that should’ve been problems into quirks, thinking that it just was the way MC was. 

Then they exhibited the only symptom that concerned him. They stopped eating. They would have a bite, maybe two, and then pass it off to him. Of course he would eat it, they were putting his sin right in front of him and begging Beel to take it. Surely, humans needed to eat more. Surely they were hungry. After all, he was eating ten times more than them and he was still starving. It made the food in his mouth taste rotten. 

He invited them to the gym. They could watch him workout, they would spend time together, and then afterwards he would take them to his favorite restaurants. That would make sure they ate. No one could say no to the kind of food the Ristorante Six figuratively and literally brought to the table. He thought somehow that would cure things. Food was his solution to everything. It made him happy and healthy and he wanted MC to feel the same.

He was thinking about his plan deep in his mind. He could see the both of them enjoying the best meal they would eat in their lives. He missed the sight of MC getting pale, swaying, wilting under the heat of the gym. He watched as they collapsed, and at that point no amount of food could’ve bribed him away from the problem any longer. 

He got them home, in bed, trying not to tear himself up inside for not making an action sooner. Why did he not make sure they ate immediately? Why did he have to give in to his sin so easily? Why were they even doing this to themselves in the first place? 

When they woke up, the first thing Beel was going to make sure they did was get something--anything--in their body. MC didn’t want that. They had spent days making sure they weren’t eating, they didn’t want it to be ruined. They didn’t want to, they couldn’t, so why was Beel forcing them? They grabbed his clothes and begged, pleaded with him not to make them eat. They were crying now, sending Beel’s mind spiraling. He knew they needed to eat, they needed nourishment, but he didn’t want to say no to them, force them to do something they didn’t want to. He was so torn, confused, why were they upset over something that would help them? All he could do is hold them as they cried, worried about the fact that they barely had the strength left to do so. 

He left them momentarily to rest as he headed away to go ask Satan for more information. Turns out humans, in some cases, like to do things that hurt them. Being a demon, a creature that strives and exists for things that fulfill them and help them thrive, this turned his world upside down. First things first, he made sure they ate, whether they liked it or not. He had to do his best to ignore more crying and fighting. He wasn’t happy until something was in their stomach, smiling a bit as color finally returned to their face. 

Now he’s aware of everything they do, taking notes of things they like, and relaying it all back to Satan to make sure it was safe. He has a real hard time making them upset, but he needs them to be okay, to be whole and happy. He can’t take food from them anymore. In fact, much to the surprise of the household, he refuses to eat unless MC does so. He won’t hesitate anymore.

 Belphie

He knows too much about humans unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in this case. After the human race’s endearing glow had faded, Belphie became too familiar with the darker and more upsetting parts that came with them. Mental illness being one of them. He remembers Lilith endlessly going on about how sad it was, how she wanted nothing more than to take their pain away. So, yes, he was probably the most aware out of all the brothers concerning MC’s condition. 

He saw the same numb nonchalant look in their eyes as he had. The way they slept too much but went to bed much too late, if they even went to bed at all. They both sported the same dark circles under their eyes. MC had too much apathy and not enough energy to follow through with the few things they did care about. Yeah, it sounded just like him, but he was a demon, it almost came with the job. For humans, not only was it worrisome but he knew how dangerous it could be. 

Did he do anything about it? No. He was sleeping too much and doing his best to avoid MC anyway. Why should they want help from someone like him in the first place? After what he did? Helping them was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t want to end up hurting them further. Someone else would take care of it. 

That’s what he thought, at least, until Beel invited MC for a sleepover in their room. Beel thought it would be fun for the three of them to hang out more, and Belphie didn’t have the heart nor the energy to say no to his twin. Things had gone fine at first, great even. They shared snacks, Beel going as far as making sure everyone got plenty to eat. They all watched a snooze-inducing amount of movies, Belphie spending most of the time switching between Beel’s and MC’s lap to sleep in. And at the end of it all, even the insomniac MC had gone to bed at a decent time. It was a night of fun with of them in a peaceful rest. Maybe Belphie didn’t have anything to worry about after all. 

Until MC started screaming. The noise woke him and his brother up faster than anything ever had. MC had the blanket they were sleeping with tangled tightly around different parts of their body.They were covered in a terrible cold sweat, stuck in their nightmare as they did their best to wake up. They kept screaming someone’s name over and over again along with running ‘sorry’s and ‘no’s. 

They ended up accidentally scratching their own face with their fingers in the panicked flailing, the pain still not waking them up from the terror. It took both Belphie and Beel to get them awake, and even then, they still weren’t out of the haze for a good while. Belphie’s chest throbbed in pain when he called out their name and they didn’t respond. When they looked into his face, there was no emotion attached to it. It was like they were somewhere else entirely. It was another few minutes before the look of recollection came back into their eyes, and then just after, those same eyes were filled with tears. While Beel did most of the immediate comforting, Belphie realized that this was the reason why they were tired all the time. It was hard to want to sleep and get good rest when nothing but torment awaited you in the night. He understood all to well, and he was sloth, he knew sleep, he could’ve helped them the most in his own element.

He felt it wasn’t his place, but while Beel had MC tightly in his arms, he came in from behind and rested his head against their back, his fingers digging gently into their pajamas. He buried his face into them, feeling every emotional shudder. MC cried so hard, they ended up falling asleep again, too exhausted to keep themselves conscious any longer. Beel picked them up, preparing to put them in his bed, but Belphie stopped him. He made sure MC was curled up by him, claiming it was only due to his much comfier and agreeable bed. Truth was, he was unable to rest soundly now without making sure MC was sleeping deeply, taking slow and even breaths. 

He puts a little more effort into taking care of MC after that. He’s the demon of sloth, so he knows ways to deter night terrors and insomnia. If MC refuses to sleep, whoops he already gave them a bit of sleeping potion for tonight. They're going to have to deal with a demon dragging them into bed, clinging onto them so tightly they can’t move. He’s still learning how to do things a bit less demanding and over the top, but MC has been sleeping better lately. 

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

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A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

[jumbojamba47]

I Love You

Pt. 2 of Guest Room

A/N: Thank you for loving my little ball of garbage enough to warrant a second part. I’m feeling warm and fuzzy. Also... I kinda.. sorta.. really got carried away with this. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Shout out to my irl friends who had to deal with my gleefully rubbing my grubby little paws together all day. 

A/N PT. 2: TUMBLR QUIT BEING A BITCH AND JUST LET ME UPLOAD MY STORY IN PEACE PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU. The last try uploaded to my main and my stomach dropped out of my ass lmao. Fifth and hopefully final time. (I’m so sorry for the notifications spam for everyone I tagged)

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Stucky 

Warnings: 18+, Angst (like so much I’m sorry), Smut, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5702

Hollow. It’s the only way she can describe the feeling of deep-seated emptiness that settles in her as she watches the quinjet disappear in the distance. What’s that noise? She casts her eyes around her surroundings when she suddenly feels a dampness on her collarbone. Reaching up a hand, she feels moisture on her face.

Oh.

The sounds were coming from her. At the realization of her sobs, pain wracked her frame with nowhere to go.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

When she left Clint in a hurry, she hadn’t even paused to consider what she would say to you if she caught you. What did she feel for you? What could she have told you? Her life conditioned her to believe love was for children. She wasn’t one.

And yet…

She couldn’t deny that there was something about you that always drew her in to you. Every hidden interaction with you pulled onto all five of her senses demanding her full attention until there was only you in front of her; drawn straight into your orbit like a moon of Saturn. Each and every private encounter made it more difficult for the hardened assassin to pull herself away from you only to act unaffected by your presence in public.

Was that love?

It doesn’t matter.

You were sunlight. You were the warm embrace of home calling out to every damaged member of this family seeking acceptance for their past sins and a place to belong.

And she?

Well, she was damaged beyond repair.

She refused to be the one to tarnish your light. And she knew, if she gave in to her weaknesses, you could never really shine. You meant too much to the team. To her. A part of her could also admit to fear. Fear of what would happen if she hurt you.

If you hurt her.

She could live with never knowing what it felt like to call you hers. To hear you whisper her name in the early morning light your sweet features the first things she lays eyes on in your shared haven.

But she knew. She’d never recover if she could have you and lose you. If she were to tear her walls down, only for you to look inside and decide it wasn’t worth it.

That she wasn’t worth it.

With a steely resolve in her eyes, Natasha turned on her heels and began to make her way back towards the gym. She had a few weeks to get her head screwed on straight. She’ll lock away and bury anything she might have felt for you if given the chance. When you’re back, she’ll apologize for the hurt she’s caused you and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let her stay a part of your life.

If, along the way, she refuses to let her mind wander to thoughts of you with someone else, well, that’s her prerogative.

xxxx

You sit in heavy silence on the quinjet. Thoughts of last night’s interactions with the red-headed assassin plaguing your mind. You still feel a pang of pain when you remember her rejection. With a mental shake of your head, you resolve to table your emotions for now to focus on the mission at hand.

You’ve been tasked with leading a team to infiltrate an underground drug trafficking ring disguised as a bi-monthly art auction. Once you arrive at your destination, you’ll be allotted two months of integration and data retrieval before another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be sent in to assist in the take down. You’re leading the team with Scarlet Witch and Falcon following your lead. Agent Hill was chosen to tag along strictly for backup and onsite supervision should the worst come to pass.

Sam and Maria sit up front; you can hear the sounds of quiet banter trickling back towards you while they try to respect your privacy, believing you to be mentally preparing yourself for the road up ahead. Wanda sits opposite you. Your emotions scream at her from across the jet, but she has the decency not to read your actual thoughts.

Still, she can’t help the concerned glances she sends your way.

Noticing her attention on you, you shift your body to turn towards her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I could ask you the same. Where did you disappear to last night? I tried to find you after you were pulled away by Natasha, but I couldn’t find you.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. My heads been a mess lately. I didn’t mean to leave you on the dance floor like that. It was a rough night.”

A hand rises to nervously play with the hair on the back of your neck. You look to the floor.

“I also owe you a bit of an apology for how carried away I got last night. You’re amazing Wan, and I don’t want to lead you on in any way.”

She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, draga mea. We were just two friends who had a little too much to drink, having a little fun. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

You wince and she instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Pietro used to say it’s because I had big ears when we were children.”

She reaches out a hand across the aisle to let it rest on your knee. After an internal debate, you decide to divulge everything to her. From your first interactions with the assassin and your instant connection to the fallout from last night.

Listening patiently, Wanda’s eyes widen slightly when you mention what the events that occurred in the ex-soviet’s room.

By the end, Wanda is livid with righteous indignation on your behalf.

“Well, she’s a fool for letting you go.” She squeezes your leg.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going through her head, but you have to know her feelings aren’t a reflection on your worth. You are the glue that holds this team together and we all love you. Natasha, she…” she pauses, “she’s been through much. More than any of us will ever know. Her experiences have closed her off. But you’re both strong. Maybe you’re not meant to be, but I know you can bounce back from this. We have a few weeks before we’re due back and, in that time, I guarantee you we can get your spirit back up and bouncing like usual.”

“Damn right, we can!” You hear Sam interrupt from the front of the plane.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and let out a light laugh.

Yeah, things weren’t okay.

But maybe they will be.

xxxx

The mission goes off without a hitch and it does wonders for your confidence. As soon as you landed at the safehouse, you and your team had set to work securing the perimeter and preparing for your upcoming roles in the undercover mission. Sam moved first, infiltrating the ranks of the dealers as he uncovered the hierarchy of the operation and fed maria intel to pass on to headquarters. You and Wanda were posed as a wealthy young couple from new money, tasked with getting close to the heads of the drug ring in order to gain access to the final auction where you ultimately took down the entire operation with the aid of several agents.

Despite the smooth execution, you all still found yourselves with extra downtime between stakeouts and it led to the four of you growing closer. One of your favorite pastimes became group binge-watches of The Fairly Odd Parents and Wanda had taken to calling you Cosmo, the husband of her cartoon namesake.

           “ETA: 5 minutes,” called out Hill.

From your seat, you could see the compound looming over the horizon. You take in a nervous breath and release.

Next to you, Wanda can feel your apprehensive tension and takes a moment to give your hand a firm squeeze.

“You’re okay, Cosmo. Remember our talks. You have strength. You know your worth. You’ll be fine.”

You send her a grateful smile and a nod. Your fingers squeeze her back briefly before you move to stand by the doors of the ramp as you hear the jet begin to touch down.

She’s right. During your time away, you came to terms with the fact that it’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You know you have no control over other people’s feelings, and you owed it to the both of you to face this head on, maturely.

As soon as the jet’s ramp meets the floor of the hangar, you’re met with a wall of pure muscle that really should come with a warning label. Your feet are lifted off the ground and suddenly you’re swinging in circles. You laugh as Bucky’s long hair tickles your nose.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“James Buchanan Barnes. Put me down this instant.”

He stiffens. That’s his name. That’s who he is. He is James Buchanan Barnes. Former sergeant and integral member of the Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier. Melted down and reforged by Hydra. He was a legend. He was a nightmare. He was feared. He was… terrified.

Christ. Hearing his full name falling out of your mouth in that tone never failed to instill the fear of God into him. Not even his ma, bless her soul, could quite measure up to the intimidating aura you exuded when he knew you were ready to tan his hide.

You stood before him, hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart, stance strong, eyebrow peaked… and deadly.

“Did you break into my room and steal my hair mask… again?”

The others stand back, watching in amusement while he starts to sweat.

“D-doll, of course not! You explicitly told m-me your room was off limits while you were go-”

You cut him off as you step closer.

“Don’t you lie to me, Barnes,” your eyes narrow and he gulps when you push your face closer to his.

“I can smell the macadamia oil, you heathen.”

Just as you’re about to launch into a lecture about respecting other people’s belongings, you’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s voice.

“You gotta admit, at least it’s better than smelling the greasy mop he always ends up with after training.”

Your entire demeanor lightens up as you whip around to take a running leap at your favorite Man with a Plan.

“STEVIE!”

He catches you in his arms. “Good to have you back, sugar. We missed you around here.”

You hear a soft exhale of relief come from behind you.

Tilting your head back from where you’re perched in Steve’s arms, you narrow your eyes at Bucky and make a silent gesture to indicate you’re watching him. This is far from over.

He gulps.

“Well, c’mon then, we’re all dying to hear how the mission went. The others are waiting for you in the lounge.”

You stay wrapped around your friend’s dorito shaped torso but make the effort to wriggle your way around him so you’re clinging to his back like an infant koala. He rolls his eyes but does nothing to deter you, choosing to move his arms in support of your legs instead.

“Onward, my trusty steed!” you giggle.

As one, you all make your way towards the main common area, taking the time to drop off your luggage in your respective rooms as you go. Eventually, you make your way to the lounge and as you’re carried in, F.R.I.D.A.Y. blasts the loud trumpets of a herald through her speakers.

Huh, Tony must’ve upgraded her sense of humor.

Greeting the others, you use your hands in Steve’s hair like an oversized rat with a penchant for cooking to guide him towards your favorite lounge chair. Sam and Wanda move towards the kitchen to look for the good snacks they couldn’t have undercover while everyone else gathers around the remaining lounges.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha hovering off to the side near Clint but you can’t quite get yourself to make eye contact yet. You wait for everyone to settle in. Wanda approaches you with two mugs of tea in her hands offering you one with a “just the way you like it, Cosmo”. It’s punctuated with a wink and she perches herself on the arm of your seat, bringing her own around to rest across the back. Her hand finds its way to your hair playing with a few strands to keep you grounded while you purposefully train your eyes away from a certain side of the room.

Wanda really did become your rock in the weeks away. While you never repeated anything from the night of your party, you fell into an easy companionship with the young mutant that led to you each being comfortable around the other. She knew how hard your return would be for you and made it her next mission to make sure you knew you had a solid support system in place.

Seeing the close interaction between the two of you, Bucky and Steve both shoot you cheeky grins and eyebrow wiggles that have you holding up a throw pillow just under Wanda’s current line of sight. She glances down, smirks and hurls the pillow at the two men using her powers, ensuring she adds a boomerang effect to ricochet off the face of one in order to hit the other stunning both of them.

“Nice!” You give her an enthusiastic high five as she wiggles her fingers at the recovering men.

“I just learned that one on the job. I have to keep practicing for muscle memory.” She states in a faux haughty tone while you snicker at the indignation on your Brooklyn Boys’ faces.

Across the room, Natasha watches you. She knew she missed you while you were away, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that crashed into her when she finally laid eyes on you after weeks apart. You still had the same mischievous spark in your eyes. Your nose still crinkled just the slightest bit when you laughed. Your smile could still light up an entire room like the Fourth of July.

God, she missed you.

She watches your raucous banter with the resident super-soldiers with a fond smile teasing the corners of her lips. She takes note of the casual arm slung across your shoulders, the hand tangled in your hair, and something inside of her burns. Her jaw clenches.

She’s not yours to have.

Clint nudges her shoulder with a pointed look. She realizes she’s been emitting a soft growl. Focus Romanoff! Where is your training? She strains but ultimately fixes her posture until she’s the posterchild for casual aloofness. Her best friend snickers but chooses not to comment on the slight rigidity he can see in her shoulders.

Tony claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Alright alright, Hermione’s new parlor tricks aside, we all know why we’re really here.”

In his best imitation of Fury’s gruff voice, he growls out, “Hill. Debrief report. Judgement on (y/hero/n)’s execution?”

Rolling her eyes but playing along, “All objectives executed to perfection. Leadership skills exemplary, sir!” she tosses in a mock salute.

It’s quiet before everyone breaks into cheers and congratulate you and your team on a successful job well done. You’re beaming when you hear Sam chime in with, “You better watch out Cap. (Y/l/n) could give you a run for your money as team captain. We might be shipping you to a retirement home sooner than we thought.

Your best friend grins at you with pride and mirth shining in his eyes and you feel warm inside.

“I think we could come to a truce and work together. Co-captain sound good to you doll?”

“I don’t think so Steve. I’ll leave the captaincy to you. I don’t think I could handle dragging the metal chicken wing over there back in line every day,” you respond with a laugh, sticking your tongue out at Sam. You draw out a squawk of offense and everyone bursts into laughter.

You turn your head slightly and find yourself making direct eye contact with the very same pair of vivid green eyes that still visit you in your dreams. You swallow down the rising emotions and offer her a small smile. She looks startled at first but relaxes slightly and gives you one of her own in return.

Maybe you could do this.

You spend a few more minutes catching up with the rest of the team, learning about what everyone has been up to while you were away. Checking the time, you slowly pull away from Wanda, who still has her weight resting on you, and announce that you’re going to head to your room to wash off and settle in before you have to fill out your mission reports.

Everyone bids you goodnight and you exit the room, walking the familiar pathway towards your own residence. Your ears pick up quiet footsteps behind you causing you to turn your head slightly.

A small sharp inhale escapes your lips. Your eyes betray you with a quick scan of her nervous form standing in front of you. Her hair is a little longer and the circles under her eyes are just the slightest shade darker. She still looks just as breathtaking as the day you walked out of her room. Her presence instantly brings you peace and you curse yourself under your breath.

Mentally slapping yourself, you plaster on a casual smile.

“Hey Nat. Been a while.”

You cringe.

Really? Been a while? Really?

She steps towards you, “Hi (y/n/n),” she responds softly.

“Listen I-”

“Can we-”

You both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. Go ahead, you first,” she says.

“Listen, Nat. I owe you an apology.”

She stills. What could you possibly have to apologize for? You’re not the one who broke the heart of the love of your life just because you had commitment issues.

Stop that. She’s not your love of anything.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but you press on.

“It wasn’t fair of me to try to push you into something you clearly weren’t comfortable with. You made it clear that you didn’t love me the way I loved you. I never wanted to make you feel like I would demand anything of you. You’re more than entitled to your own feelings and it wasn’t okay for me to project what I felt onto you.”

Frozen in place, her mind could only focus on two words.

Loved? Felt?

And didn’t that sting?

She can feel her throat start to constrict but she goes along with it.

Maybe it’s for the best.

“It’s okay (y/n/n). I understand where you came from and I’m partially to blame for letting things go on for as long as they did without taking your feelings into consideration.

“Friends?”

A small, okay large, part of her brain screamed in agony that this was wrong.

Instead, she smiles and nods opening her arms.

You gingerly step into her embrace, one arm comes up holding her shoulder while the other gently cups the back of her head in a familiar hold.

Her arms come up to wrap themselves around your middle, squeezing slightly.

If either of you noticed the other inhale just a little deeper, neither of you chose to comment.

xxxx

Several weeks go by and you’ve settled back into a familiar routine. Wanda has officially been adopted into you and your boys’ infamous trio and the brunette witch could often be seen joining in on your foolish antics around the compound. At first, the three made a pact to ensure you would never be exposed to prolonged periods of alone time with the woman who damaged your tender heart. Often times, you’d catch yourself alone with the assassin only for one of the others to immediately swoop in to whisk you away and drag you into some activity before you could draw each other into a prolonged conversation

It took you a few days to catch on to what your friends were doing. While the sentiment was greatly appreciated, you couldn’t miss the slight look of hurt that crossed Natasha’s face whenever you were pulled away from her. Eventually, you had to put your foot down, taking them aside one day. You told them that you loved them and appreciated their concern. But you’re an adult and you can handle your affairs well enough on your own.

They backed off but still continued to keep a wary lookout. They couldn’t help it. You were their favorite.

Your interactions with the devastatingly gorgeous avenger were still a little stunted and you both miss the longing stares you direct towards each other on occasion. Still, you’re getting better.

It still hurts sometimes but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life. In any capacity.

You think you’re getting better. It stills hurts but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life.

xxxx

You’re in the gym talking to Sam one afternoon as he spots you in the weights section while Natasha and Clint are sparring on the mats.

“The team’s decided to make an appearance at a new nightclub Aluminum Alloy Man bought out on a dare tonight. You in, sugar?”

You laugh at the latest nickname he’s given Stark but shake your head no.

“Sorry Sam but I’ve got a date.”

You hear a particularly loud grunt come from Clint and turn your head slightly to see Natasha apologizing while he’s doubled over catching his breath.

“Oh? Anyone we know?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes.

“With myself, you dork. I’ve been dying to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I finally have the downtime to sit through it. There’s a bottle of wine and a couch calling my name and I intend to capitalize.”

He laughs but nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. You good here? I better head out to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead. Have fun tonight!” You wave him off wiping the sweat off the back of your neck with a damp towel.

“(Y/L/N)!” You hear your name called out from across the gym.

“Care to spar? Clint’s tapping out. He’s a wuss.”

You start to hesitate but choose to nod instead, stepping into the ring, setting your towel on the rope to dry.

You begin to circle one another assessing each other’s weaknesses. She makes the first move lashing out with a swift kick to your ankle, aiming to leave you off balance. You dodge out of the way and retaliate with a series of jabs towards her torso. This goes on for several minutes each of you landing several hits when Natasha launches herself off your bent knee, intending to use her signature thigh grip of death to bring you down.

Not today, Satan.

You bring your arms up, wedging them between your neck and her legs before she can get a grip. You latch onto her legs tightly before you swing her around your body, tackling her to the floor. You move your hand to cradle the back of her head to ensure it doesn’t smack into the ground, bringing yourself much closer to her body in the process.

You’re both panting heavily, stuck, mesmerized by the intense look in each other’s eyes. You have one leg between her thighs, knee pressed to her core, puffs of air intermingling between you.

Is she? Leaning towards you?

Oh, you definitely felt that wiggle of her hips against your knee.

You wet towel drops to the floor with a wet smack and just like that, the spell is broken.

You both scramble apart and you move to pick up the offending object.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat sheepishly.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear your big plans for tonight while you were talking to Wilson. Is there room for one more? I was actually planning to do the same, but I hear Monty Python is much funnier with good company.”

Everything inside of you screams that this is a terrible idea. But here’s the thing, you thrived off of terrible ideas.

“Sure, why not? We can start when everyone else heads out?”

Sure you would have declined, she brightens considerably and throws you a grin.

She starts walking backwards towards the door.

“Great! It’s a date! I mean- not a date-”

She smacks herself right into the door.

You let out a small laugh.

“I know what you meant.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll see you tonight!” She scurries out the door.

You stay standing there in the ring watching the space she just occupied.

On the other side of the door, Natasha leans heavily against the metal.

What have I gotten myself into?

xxxx

You bid goodbye to your friends and make sure to tell them to call you should they need anything. Once everyone is out the door, you turn around, inhale deeply, and set to work.

Despite everything, and your unfailing determination to not fall down the same rabbit hole, you can’t help but want to take care of Natasha in any capacity you can.

So, you take extra care to grab her favorite snacks, her go-to brand of wine, a couple glasses, and an oversized hoodie you always kept in the back of the closet, on hand just for her. She had a tendency to relax in thinner loungewear, but you knew once she settled in, she stubbornly refused to get up for anything no matter how cold she got.

As you set everything down on the coffee table in front of the oversized, plush couch in the center of the movie room, the beauty in question makes her way towards you in, surprise surprise, a thin tank top and shorts.

You roll your eyes but toss her your sweatshirt and she grins at you before hastily throwing it on, snuggling into the warmth. You both settle onto opposite sides of the couch, the wine and snacks split between you. The movie plays and you find yourselves relaxing. Like magnets, you eventually gravitate towards each other, sharing jokes and snacks, yelling at the large screen in front of you as the Black Knight stubbornly refuses to die.

Without realizing each other’s movements, she winds up leaning against you while your arm is wrapped around alternating between playing with her hair and rubbing soothing patterns across her shoulder and biceps.

You feel a shudder come from the deadly ball of fluff in your arms and only then do you realize your positions. You can’t bring yourself to move.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Attempting to burrow herself further into your clothes.

You pull her closer to you until her legs are resting over yours, head tucked under your chin, puffs of air tickling your sensitive neck.

Bad move (y/l/n).

You forget how to breathe. Natasha turns to look at you when she feels you still beneath her.

Oh. Oh god.

She didn’t realize how close she was to you and from this distance, she can see every detail of your ethereal beauty in the dim light of the movie lighting.

You turn your head to take a quick peak at her but suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your breath hitches when green is replaced by red and suddenly plump lips are crushing your own.

You moan and your hands scramble for purchase as the angel in your lap twists to straddle you. Fists tighten in your hair while she nips at your lower lip, close to drawing blood. She tugs at your shirt and you get the message. You desperately rip away your top while she follows suit before she pushes you onto your back spreading out on top of you.

A loud groan escapes your lips as the vixen in your arms finds the sensitive space right below your ear. Unwilling to be out done, you wrap your legs around her hips and gracefully flip yourselves over, trailing kisses down the crevice of her breasts, mapping your way down her body. Like Copernicus charting the stars. Reaching your destination, you pull apart the draw strings of her shorts with nothing but your teeth, earning a moan of approval from the writhing redhead. You smoothly slide back up her body, meeting her desperate lips in a searing kiss while your hand finds her center, already feeling the slick wetness ready for you. Natasha’s limbs fly to wrap around you as you set a steady pace pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Knowing she needs the extra push, your other hand moves to pull aside her bra before you deliver a harsh nip and a firm curl of your fingers.

She sees stars.

No.

She sees galaxies.

You continue to move, determined to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

You’re rewarded with the crack of her voice as she hurdles into the abyss.

“God, I fucking love you.”

It slips out of your mouth completely unbidden.

But it’s too late.

The damage can’t be undone.

Just like that, she snaps back to reality.

She hastily sits up. Your hand falls back into your lap as she quickly stands picking up her shirt.

“We can’t do this.”

“Natasha, I-”

“No.”

“Natasha, would you jus-”

“I said no!”

You feel like you’ve been here before.

She turns to make a hasty retreat, but you catch her hand in a tight grip before she can get too far.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I so repulsive that the thought of being with me has you running for the hills?”

“Not everything is about you, (y/l/n),” she bites out.

Neither of you hear the team returning but all of them can hear the yelling coming from your direction and they run towards you.

“No. You always do this! Every time I think we’ve gotten to a good place; you freeze me out.”

“That’s the thing! We were in a good place! We were having fun. We had each other when we needed it and nothing more! We were so good like that. We can still be like that!”

Tears fill your eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

“Why can’t this be enough?!” she cries.

“This has to be enough,” she whispers looking at anything but you.

A hand moves to grip hers gently. The other rises to cup her chin to guide her eyes to yours.

“This could be so much more. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Staring into your eyes, she can see you dying a little more inside the longer she stays silent.

She pulls away from you.

Okay.

You thought you could be fine with just floating in her orbit. Maybe you underestimated how long it would take for you to heal enough to allow it. Or maybe you couldn’t do this at all.

Your head tilts towards the floor. Your lips break into the softest, most heart-breaking smile she’s ever seen.

“I’m always going to love you Natasha Romanoff. But I owe it to the both of us to know this won’t be enough for me. This can’t be enough for me.”

A whimper is caught in her throat but she can’t bring herself to move when you step back away from her.

“I love you. I don’t want to,” you breathe out.

Natasha swears she hears something inside her shatter.

“I’m sorry I don’t give you the strength you need to pursue your own happiness. I really hope you find someone who does. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

You make me happy.

Just say it!

Her body screams in protest with every fiber of her being.

“Bye Tasha.”

You turn and only then do you realize that the two of you aren’t alone.

Wanda steps forward. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as she leads you away throwing a glare at the assassin.

Natasha takes a step in your direction.

“(Y/n) wait-”

She stopped by a metal arm blocking her way.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Bucky growls.

“And what do you know about what I’ve done?” She shoves him away.

“I know you hurt them! AGAIN!” he snarls, “You need to get your shit together before I’ll even THINK about letting you come anywhere NEAR (y/n) again, Romanoff.”

Her blood boils. She scoffs, “Big surprise, their guard dog immediately snaps to attention at the first sign of trouble. Tell me Barnes, does your master feed you well?”

She regrets her outburst immediately, but she’s too angry, too frustrated, too exhauseted to take it back.

“Don’t forget who trained you, Natalia,” comes out in a menacing hiss.

Frantically, Clint’s eyes snap from her to the ex-soldier advancing on her. He immediately steps between the two, placing a hand on her arm and turning towards the larger assassin.

“Whoa now, you know she didn’t mean that. Emotions are just running high right now. Let’s all take a step back. I could use a hand, Cap.”

Despite his own roiling emotions, he needs to maintain his professionalism as team captain, releasing a heavy puff of air, he moves to place a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him to his side.

“Clint’s right. We can’t do anything to fix this right now. Everyone, disperse. We’ll regroup in the morning.” He sends a piercing glare at the redhead.

Hearing another growl, Clint whips his head back around, “As entertaining as it would be to make a compound wide betting pool with Tony on a wwe rumble between you and two tag-teaming super soldiers, maybe we should take a second to cool off outside, yeah” he hisses at her.

Gritting her teeth, she nods, allowing Clint to pull her down the hall and out the door.

As she catches a glimpse of the hall leading to your room, all she can think is one thing.

She let you slip through her fingers… again.

Tagging some incredible people who expressed an interest in pt. 2:

guys im so fucking sorry this keeps showing up in your mentions.

@natasha-danvers , @thelastavenger-3000 , @ohfuckno , @imnotasuperhero

[forgeandgredimagines]

Mischievous Antics 『Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader』

Request: Hey hey!! I really love your work, I was wondering if you could make a kuroo x reader oneshot of kuroo messing with the reader and they start playfully fighting bc of that. I dont know if you get what I mean but thank you in advanced 🖤❤️ (Anon)

A/N: I totally get what you mean :>> I feel like Kuroo would definitely be the type of boyfriend that would always mess with and annoy you. But you still love him regardless of his ridiculous antics, because who wouldn't?

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist!!

Everyone who's known Kuroo is well aware of the fact that he is, to put it simply, a ginormous troublemaker. Everyone knows that they have to be especially careful around the man, else they'll find themselves in some sort of sticky situation. Which is definitely why you don't have the right to blame Kuroo for taking embarrassing photos of you, that he may or may not use for blackmail, you should be blaming yourself for falling asleep in the middle of the living room wearing the ridiculous looking (though undeniably comfortable) t-rex onesie Tsukishima gifted you for your birthday, with a Korean face masks that was probably way too overpriced to be a reasonable purchase, but you didn't care. 

It was Sunday evening, you were home alone and you wanted to pamper yourself. College was just as, if not more, tiring than they made it seem when you were in high school, hence why you needed a day for yourself every once in a while.

This was precisely the reason why Kuroo decided to surprise you that night with a bags full of your favorite foods and a list of movies you two could binge watch that night. He got in with the spare key he knew you hid under a flower pot by the entrance and instead of being greeted with a big hug from you after being pleasantly surprised with his sudden arrival and presents, he found you passed out cold in the living room, a bowl of half melted ice cream precariously clutched in your arms, only inches away from spilling all over your onesie, which Kuroo found incredibly cute. The anime that you had previously been watching was still playing, you had just missed an epic boss battle between the protagonist and his best friend who was secretly evil but that wasn't important. What was important was how completely ridiculous you looked.

Kuroo tried to stifle his laughter. Emphasis on tried. He couldn't help but let out a few giggles which luckily didn't do much but make you stir groggily, the ice cream miraculously still not spilling everywhere.

He hastily carried the bags of food into the kitchen and rushed back to you with his phone in his hand, the camera app already open. He positioned the camera right above you, he made sure to get the most unflattering angle because he was a good boyfriend.

All would have gone well if he hadn't forgotten to turn the flash off. The bright light flashed over your face waking you from your slumber. Kuroo froze in place, his phone still hovering over you. You groggily looked up at him, rubbing your eyes.

"Tetsu?" You asked, your voice laced with sleepiness. Your hand brushed over your cheeks and felt the face mask, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

You two stood there for a few seconds, frozen. And just like that you two jumped like frightened cats. Kuroo jumped over the coffee table, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He ran as if his life depended on it, and to be honest, it kind of did.

You let out a screech in shock and leapt after him, the bowl of ice cream now crashing onto the ground, but he was too quick for you.

Before Kuroo could run into the bathroom to lock himself in, he tripped on the carpet but he caught himself before he crashed onto the ground, but this momentary delay gave you time to catch up on him. You made a grab for the phone but Kuroo quickly held it up in the air, far from your reach. His years of volleyball and troublemaking had lead to him developing rather fast reflexes.

He pried you off of him and ran into the kitchen instead, and found himself cornered behind the small kitchen island. You skidded to halt right across from him, the island being the only thing keeping you from strangling the man.

"Had a good nap, hun?" He grinned cheekily at you. He waved out his phone, close enough that you could see your incriminating photo in full HD but far enough that it was only a little bit more than arms length.

You growled at him as you internally asked yourself why you were dating the oaf. You threw your face mask at him.

"Kuroo Tetsurou, you are such an asshole!" You bellowed. His grin only grew wider. You dashed towards him from the left of the island but Kuroo ran towards the right, leading you two to be in the same position but on the other sides of the granite surface.

"I swear when I get my hands on you-" You began listing down rather violent ways on how you were going to make the male regret his actions.

Kuroo's face only grew more smug at these threats. "You're so cute when you're feeling homicidal tendencies." He cooed at you. "But I think this is much more cuter."

He grinned down at his phone, ignoring your death glare, when an idea popped into his head. "It would...be a shame if...this happened to be accidentally sent to someone."

You gasped at these words. "You wouldn't."

"Come on, let's be honest, we both know that I would."

He began tapping on his phone, preparing to send the incriminating photo to the groupchat you, Kuroo and your closest friends were in. This list included Kenma, Yaku, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Akaashi and several of your other friends. You'd never hear the end of it.

You clenched your fists in defeat and stared at your feet (which were t-rex feet but that wasn't important).

Kuroo was just about to send the photo when he heard a sniffle. He froze in his place, guilt already beginning to engulf him.

He turned to you, you were biting your lips in frustration, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. He hated when you cried, especially when he was the one that caused them to begin with.

"Hey, hey, no, I was just playing around. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get upset." He cautiously approached you. "I won't send it to anyone, I promise."

He was now beside you, rubbing your shoulders consolingly, when he noticed the corners of your mouth rising by a fraction.

It was too late, you had grabbed ahold of his phone. You ducked under his arm and ran for the living room, quickly trying to delete the photo from both the gallery and the recently deleted folder, but you couldn't do this quickly as you were running from a feral and thoroughly betrayed man behind you.

He quickly gained on you and tried to grab the phone, you two were now having a tug of war contest with the unfortunate device. Kuroo then tripped on a shoe and fell onto the floor, his face landing on the spilt ice cream. The melted vanilla and chocolate was smeared all over the side of his face and was all over his hair but his focus was still on the phone that he managed to hold on to even during his fall.

"Let--go!" You cried out and you pulled with all your might.

"It's my phone--you hag!"

As Kuroo said this though, his grip on the phone loosened and you found yourself falling back from the sudden loss of force from his end. You exclaimed in delight as you brought the phone up to your face, only to gasp in horror as you took in what was on the screen.

Amidst the chaos that just ensued, one of you had unknowingly managed to send the photo the the group chat.

Bokuto, always the first to see messages, had already sent a dozen or so messages and gifs, his delight evident. Akaashi, who checked the chat because of Bokuto's spamming, was now sharing his own delightfully sarcastic comments. Yaku had just seen the photo and was already typing his reaction as you groaned in defeat.

Kuroo grabbed the phone from your lax hands and roared in laughter upon seeing the chat. He struggled to breath as he fell into more laughter, tears even started to prickle his eyes, when a bright light flashed and a little notification pinged from Kuroo's phone.

He looked down onto the groupchat only to see his own face, manic with glee. He had to admit, he looked ridiculous, with melted, sticky vanilla and chocolate ice cream smeared all over his face, clothes and hair, which was now messier than ever, which is saying something for the male.

He looked over at your smug face. You were still lying on the ground from your fall earlier, but your hands were now clasped on your own phone which was left on the coffee table beside you earlier.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

"I really hate you, you know." He said playfully as he began poking the sides of your stomach. You burst into laughter from his unrelenting tickling and struggled under him. When you calmed down from your fits of giggles, you sighed and smiled fondly at him. "I love you too, jerk."

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Ladies Man

Denki Kaminari x 2nd Year!Reader

Warnings - none

Summary - A second year decides to follow Denki’s spam it just turns out it’s his crush what happens next is pure fluff

• discountpikachu uathotpatrol requested to follow you

Denki looks curiously at the notification. Spam accounts weren't uncommon even at UA. It is a highschool after all. No matter how elite they claim to be they still feed into the same childish  stuff when they have free time. So who's this one? I mean he already has his entire class and most of 1B so who's it now? As the account pulls up he looks at it carefully.

uathotpatrol thots will be blocked out on sight. no affiliation with ua main : _ghostie

Ghostie? Oh she's a second year. He presses the button to allow the request then moves to request to follow her. 'I wonder why she followed me?' Denki thinks to himself.

"Kaminari have you seen this," Mina says shoving her phone towards him. "It's that cute second year that we saw at the movies."

"Yeah Ghostie," Sero tells him, "pretty h/c hair and rocking body."

"She's also really nice," Kirishima adds. Denki looks at the picture to see the girl sitting on a car with two other girls. She's smiling brightly. You'd hardly imagine her as the type to become a hero. Flashy pretty girl. But like Kirishima says she's really sweet. Constantly working to tutor other kids. She works with Uraraka and Tsu a lot with combat training.

"She followed my spam," Denki adds as he hands Mina back her phone, "I'm finally in with the older girls."

"Yeah you wish," Sero says shoving him lightly.

"She has a pretty fun spam," Mina says pulling up the account, "her last post made me think of you."

"Yeah how so?" He asks her. She shows him the picture. It's of Ghostie holding a pikachu plushie up. 'Gonna catch me a pikachu to finish my Pokédex."

"Oh so she's nerdy?" Bakugo says finally joining in.

"Hot nerdy," Mina says pulling her phone back, "anyways you are the Pikachu knock off Kaminari."

"Eat a dick," Denki shoots back. He looks to his phone as it buzzes.

uathotpatrol has approved your follow request

'Nice' he thinks to himself.

uathotpatrol sent you a message

uathotpatrol: Kaminari as designated thot patrol I have to inform you that you are under  thot watch

DiscountPikachu : oh damn Ghostie you've got me

uathotpatrol: ew don't use my hero name that's too formal it's Y/n here

DiscountPikachu : Ah of course.                                   And I'll have you know I'm no thot

uathotpatrol: hmmmmm you might be

DiscountPikachu: bruh

uathotpatrol: I don't make the rules my guy

DiscountPikachu: you gonna block me???

uathotpatrol: Nah you cute

DiscountPikachu: you think I'm cute huh?

"Denki? Denki?" Mina calls, "who are you texting?"

"Shinso probably," Kirishima says as he scrolls boredly through his phone. 

"No it's Ghostie," Kaminari says smirking to his friends, "she called me cute."

"No way!" Sero says diving to his side to look over Denki's shoulder. He looks at the texts and smirks. "Dude don't fuck it up because she's super hot."

"Super hot," Mina says looking at Denki. Making sure to emphasize her point.

"Yeah I didn't need help realizing that," Denki says chuckling lightly.

"Yeah? You should realize she's out of your league," Bakugo says snarkily, "I mean she's more on my level-"

"Don't insult her like that," Sero says chuckling.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY EXTRA?!"

Kirishima holds back the angry blond as the group chuckles. Denki feels his phone buzz and looks down excitedly.

uathotpatrol : don't let it get to your head, but yeah you're cute

DiscountPikachu : awe you're cute too

                                      more hot then cute

uathotpatrol : i know bb ;) 

He puts his phone away as Aizawa moves into the classroom starting class at once. Denki tries to pay attention. He really does but when his phone buzzes and he see's another message from her he knows all productivity is out the door.

uathotpatrol : are you a torch? Because you light up my world

 DiscountPikachu : nice 

uathotpatrol : I have more 

DiscountPikachu : please tell me them

uathotpatrol : You must be from nether, because you are out of this world.

        DiscountPikachu : XD I love that

uathotpatrol : you in class?

DiscountPikachu : Yep hero studies with Aizawa

uathotpatrol : yikes

DiscountPikachu : You?

uathotpatrol : All Might has us taking turns in a rescue simulation and I went first so I have the rest of the period to do jack shit

DiscountPikachu : lucky 

"Kaminari what did I just say?" Aizawa asks harshly. Denki looks up in slight horror as he shoves his phone into his pocket. 

"Uhhh something something hero," Denki says tensely. Aizawa sends the attack weapon at him. It knocks Denki back then automatically returns to the teacher. He returns to the lesson and Denki tries his best to pay attention. As class ends and they head off to lunch Denki see's the very girl that hasn't left his mind all day. 

"Hey L/n," He says smiling lightly at her. She waves him over.

"Hey Kaminari," She says brightly, "I see you survived Aizawa."

"Barely," Denki says with a nervous chuckle. Her friends watch them carefully. Amused with the situation. Denki doesn't exactly know why. 

"Wanna eat together?" She offers, "my friends are leaving for a field trip so I'm gonna be alone."

"Yeah of course," He replies. She smiles standing then waves to her friends. 

"Follow me," She tells him. He nods following her as they move past his friends. Who, rightfully so, were freaking out about the situation. As they take their seats he notices she had lead him into a sea of 2nd and third years. He see's the big three and a couple other noteable upperclassman.

"What field trip are your friends going on?" Denki asks her.

"To check out Ryuku's hero agency," She explains, "pros let the upperclassmen at hero schools tour every so often."

"You didn't want to check it out?" He asks.

"I'm commited to Mirko's agency," She admits, "I started working at her agency last year and she's invited me to stay."

"Oh thats so cool!" Denki says smiling at her. She nods.

"She's a good hero a lot of people girl her crap for her cutesy appearance," She starts. Denki can she she's passionate about the subject. "She's strong and powerful. I wanna be just like her... Gah sorry I'm rambling."

"No you're fine," Denki says smiling at her, "you're passionate. It's cute."

"You're such a charmer," She says giving him a smile, "what about you? Any heroes that stick out?"

"MT Lady is one of my favourites," Denki says, "I also really like Edgeshot and Hawks."

"Hawks was the one I did my internship with," She tells him, "he's dreamy."

"Dreamy huh?" He asks.

"Yeah- when you're older you'll have the same effect," She says giving him a wink, "I mean that little smirk. When you've fully grown into you're features you'll be one hell of a ladies man."

"Yeah you reckon?" He asks smirking.

"Yeah," She says, "now Denki I'm thinking after school we head out on a date."

"A date?" 

He's nervous but trying to keep his flirty nature.

"You wanna go on a date? With me?"

He's failing miserablly.

"I kinda think you're cute and my childhood friend Shinso really talked you up to me," She explains, "he said you have a little crush on me. So wanna go on a date?"

"Of course- I mean yeah sure babe," He says attempting to keep his cool. She smiles at him. 

"Let me give you my number," She says. He nods handing her his phone. She puts in her number then snaps a picture of her self. Once he gets her phone back he notices the cute photo. Man she's really cute. He can't help but sneak a glance at her as she sips on her drink.

He moves typing a quick message to send her. She smiles at the quirky greeting. Then hands him her phone. 

"Take a picture for your contact," She tells him. He moves posing for the selfie. Snapping it then returning her phone. "Well I'll meet you by the 1A dorms. I'm thinking pizza?"

"Sounds good to me," He tells her. She gives him a wink then moves to leave the cafeteria. Denki retreats to his friends who are yelling at him.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Mina shouts.

"Yeah what was that?!" Sero asks.

"She asked me on a date," Denki says with a smirk. Suddenly horror hits him. "Oh god she asked me on a date. How how do I date?"

"Oh god you're hopeless."

"We have to help him," Kirishima says.

"AH come on lighting extra let's go!"

(I’ll do a part two with the date later)

[lala-pipo]

(1/18) *peeks from behind the wall* I hope I am still welcomed here hahaha cricket anon is here! <3 I am very sorry for making you worry last time O.O, for sure no matter what happens to the story, I'm going to be right there to read it! Huehuehue, I literally was not lying when I mentioned that this story is bringing me lots of joy this year :3 Cricket anon is fine now! hahaha my last work place was really bad, kind of black-company-level-bad, and it really took a toll on my mental health…

Dear cricket nony, I already answered one of your non-anonymous asks privately because I was so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of email notifications I got from tumblr and Ao3 that I had to thank you right away, but I still want to do it publically because even after days I’m still overwhelmed that you took so much time to write me a whole essay. I’m still all soft and wobbly and squishy on the inside. Your notifications really made my day, week, probably month – so thanks so much again. It really means so much T___T

(2) so, I kind of took two months? break from social media and just literally try and figure out my life lol basically quarter-life crisis also happening, but yeah slowly getting better now! I hope you are doing fine as well, sending you lots of hugs and love ~^^~ Firstly though!! I wanted to say sorry too that it took a while for me to reply hahaha… BUT!! Let me tell you omg during my rest of 8 weeks, I have managed to re-read ALL. SEVEN. CHAPTERS!! So many things to share!!

I’m so sorry to hear that your last workplace took such a toll on your mental health and I really hope that you are going to get better. I cross all my fingers for you and send you good vibes only. Please don’t feel pressured to comment at all. I mean everyone loves receiving comments, but it shouldn’t feel like a chore. So if you feel like sharing your thoughts I’m always glad to read them, but if you don’t feel like sharing them, please don’t feel bad about it. <3

(3) However, since my comments were a grand total of 4,000 words lol, I inserted them in AO3 under "cricket anon" in every chapter! :3 You might get confused as you read them because I take notes as I read the chapter lol hahaha I hope my comments might bring some joy <3 Ahh! By the way! These anon messages are partly not anon since anon asks are limited to 10 per hour? I didn’t know that! :( But since I accidentally have revealed myself to you lol I think it should be okay!

I’ll also try to answer your comments on Ao3 in the upcoming days because (if I remember correctly) you had some questions and I hope I can answer some of them. ^^ But I’m impressed that you went through all the chapters again. We’ve reached 150k now, which is quite fascinating to me because there are still quite a few chapters left. I wonder how long the story will be in the end *hides* I didn’t know that either! I’ve been on tumblr for so long and yet this 10 ask limit is new information for me, but it makes sense in some way – if I think about spam accounts or people going around spreading hate or something.

(4) Also, I think I’m going to make my snorts reactions straight onto AO3 from now on, rather than spamming your ask box with 10+ anon messages hahaha but I’ll still come here to share you my overall reactions and analyzations huehuehue and also to possibly warn you about the length of the comment lol something I noticed, from chapter 1 to chapter 7, the comment got longer lol more things to discuss about, I guess!? But yeah!! Let me reply to your reply to my previous ask here!!

LMAO I admire your dedication. Do whatever is most comfortable to you, I will be happy either way ^^ I think it makes sense that someone can comment more on later chapters because the painted picture gets fuller and fuller with details, there is more information about the different characters, the storyline is more developed and so on… ^^

(5) Is the sad scene in chapter 6, you were referring to the conversation that Jong-Taem were having, and then Jong tried to diffuse it into another lighthearted banter, and Taem is just. tired. of. Jong avoiding the conversation? and despite all that, Taem still let Jong come into his room and cuddle to sleep? idk... I find that scene really heartbreaking :( or maybe it was another scene?

For me it was the shower scene tbh. I don’t know, but it always struck something inside of me (is it weird that I’m saying this although I’ve written it?) There is something very fragile about Jonghyun in that scene and Taemin does feel a little helpless and is so caught up in his own thoughts, in his own needs, what he wants (and doesn’t get from Jonghyun) and yeah – it always makes me go :( but yes, the follow up scene is sad as well because you sit there and think – you two are just so damn dumb, which is something most people, who read this story so far – seem to think constantly, because yeah, they are very dumb – each in their own way. ^^

(6) I think I mentioned in the AO3 comment somewhere that even I started to feel like Taem can just leave Jong because Jong is not trying to understand Taem, I mean, nothing to do with his mood swings or his claim that Taem will get bored of him, just that he isn't trying to see things from Taem's perspective whereas Taem is trying! so! hard! and he even tried to ignore the fact that Jong avoid the vital conversations for like the 10th time already :(

Feelings are a very difficult topic – and while chapters 1-9 are very focused on what Taemin does, thinks, wants, needs, wishes etc. the focus does shift a little over to Jonghyun starting from chapter 10. So the reader does get an inside of why Jonghyun might have acted the way he did. If his behavior makes sense is up to the reader (and Taemin as well) to decide – but I think it shines a little more light onto Jonghyun, who the reader doesn’t know much about – feeling wise –, although he’s one of the main characters of the story. ^^ It’s the onion layers that get peeled one by one. ^^

(7) Yeah, re-reading this definitely showed me muCH MORE parallelism in Jong-Key and Taem-Jong dynamics. Even with Taem's mood in a sense? Like how Jong used to be really upset when Key has a new friend, and then suddenly okay when they do sexy times. Before, I only noticed the puppy-love-ness parallel, but then there is more to it, like I said, Taem's mood affected by Jong a lot, just like Jong's by Key, and also the way Jong claims that Key doesn't understand his feelings,

(8) well, it applies to Jong not really wanting to understand Taem's feeling? by just brushing it off as Taem will get bored of him or Taem doesn't know what he is talking about. I mean as a reader, I am also not sure, if it’s either Jong doesn't care or he is scared to show himself or both or maybe there is another reason? Hahaha ^^;;

This is true and done on purpose. ^^ This knowledge doesn’t play a key (haha) part in the storyline, but it is there to show how blinded one can get by one’s own feelings. After adapting to his new life in a dorm Taemin sees through Jonghyun and Kibum’s relationship quite well, but later when it’s about his own relation to Jonghyun he’s completely blindsided and doesn’t see how unhealthy it is at first – him going back and back and back over and over again in the hope that Jonghyun’s behavior towards him might change.

(9) You mentioned that there will be more Jongtae drought, and honestly, I think they need it? I think some space for them to think about things and you know do other things and talk to other people about other things lol maybe it will clear up their heads hopefully? Ahh!! You said the beginning of chapter 5 is for your own sanity lol I totally understand ;), it was a very sweet scene, soft, and kind of endearing compared to what is coming in the next chapters TnT

It depends on how we describe the drought. The hard cut was done in chapter 8. I went in like a warrior and just cut all the strings, not showing any mercy. ^^” I don’t want to spoiler anything, but yeah – the hard drought will continue throughout chapter 9 – soft drought from chapter 10 …… till ….. *closes mouth* 6v6 

Working on chapter 8 made me write two lovey-dovey JongTae oneshots because I couldn’t stand seeing them fight in my own fanfic, in front of my salad. T_T so yeah, the beginning of chapter 5 was for my sanity. While writing chapter 8 I also realized again while I never really write angst, fights – anything dramatic really, because I’m a very chill person in real life, and I like my fanfics to be very chill as well – so writing this was completely out of my comfort zone. For others it’s writing smut for me it’s writing angst lmao. I usually want to wrap up all the characters in fluffy blankets and make them tea, and yet here I am – letting Taemin suffer for so many chapters. I’m a monster T_T

(10) Yeahhh, about the fact that we don't see Key so much since it is in Taemin's point of view, and also the fact that our (the audience)'s perception of Key is very much influenced by how Taem sees Key, right? I think I even mentioned somewhere in the comments, that in a way, a Rashomon effect is present as the readers read the story right, since they are all on accounts of Taem's witnessing, but then also maybe I am just reading too much into this lol

It would be the Rashomon effect if I wrote the same fic out of Jonghyun’s perspective and Minho’s as well for example. In this case Taemin is just a very unreliable narrator and we don’t (well I do :’D) but the reader doesn’t know what’s really going on, if everything Taemin is experiencing is true or if it should be taken with a grain of salt. Considering that everyone in the dorm, except for Taemin, gets along well with Kibum, we might want to believe that Kibum isn’t the bad guy Taemin wants to make him out to be. ^^

(11) Honestly, I could hear my English Lit teacher saying "maybe that is not the author's intention" hahaha xD Yes yes yes!! more chapters for Taem's development!! I am ready for it!! I mean the end of chapter 7 marked the sign of the broken vase, and paired with the JongTae drought, I am looking forward to the next part of the story!! Some character development at this point is perfect I think!! And also!! About the advices, I think I commented a few times on some of the chapters.

(12) I didn't notice that before! And after you pointed it out, I think I made some comments on Minho's, Key's, and Onew's advices to Taem and definitely, based on how the events unfolded, we could argue that the advice was bad - in a way though, I can't seem to tell (yet, maybe?) if the advice giver was genuinely trying to help or do they have ulterior motives? hmmm but either way, I like how you placed a lot of thoughts in the story, even on things such as advice.

(13) Because for sure, in reality, people tend to give bad advices, and act on bad advices. It is true that most fics tend to focus only on the good advice and then the story ends happily ever after. Real life is most definitely not like that :3 your "slice of life" tag is holding up to its name ;) Thank you so much for your hard work!! You added 10,000 words for chapter 7?? omg… huhuhu (insert a bowing LINE sticker)... yeah, for sure, the way the story unfolds in my head,

(14) probably is different to other readers, right? And for sure, very different to you, the author! There are probably a lot more instances, scenes, implications, interpretations? that we as readers are unaware of! Thank you so much for all your hard work TnT, as readers, having more context into the story does give much more clarity on the flow of the story and the feelings of the characters, etc. Thank you for all your hard work! (bow bow bow)

That was something @hwarang-number commented on as well while betaing the story. What if Minho has ulterior motives?!?!?!?!? In Minho’s case it does make sense to give out bad advice to lure in the innocent lamb haha but for example what would Jinki’s or Kibum’s ulterior motives be? Sometimes people want to give out good advice, but in the end it just turns out to be bad advice – unintentionally – humans are just humans after all – and none of us is all knowing, we all perceive things differently, and what might work for one person might not work for the other. I did add 10k to chapter 7 and 25k to chapter 8 – because chapter 8 felt like the most incomplete out of all the chapters in this story. 

I think I’ve mentioned it before but hwarang_number is super attentive while reading and figured most things out that I’ve implied – even smaller details which I thought might get lost in the chapters – which I’m still impressed by, but I also said before that everyone reads stories differently, and some aspects that might not be important to me as the author of the story might be important for the readers and the other way around. For the past chapters I just tried to fill in the gaps that might confuse readers unnecessarily. In the original draft of chapter 8 Taemin is doing the deeds with Minho far more spontaneously because he’s so frustrated with Jonghyun – it made sense like that as well – but I think his frustration got more depth through the added scenes. :)

(15) Ah!! By the way!! Please don't feel like you are forced to reply to all of my messages! Having you read them already makes me happy! I don't want to make it feel like an obligation to you because... well omg my comments like super loooooong hahaha ^^;; And yeah!! Take your time with the next chapter by the way!! I am rooting for the development of the story no matter how it will go :3 I will be waiting for the next update (though no pressure, just want to put it there haha)

Dear cricket nony, if you write me 50 message I will still try to answer all of them ㅎㅅㅎ I might just take a little longer. I hope you will like chapter 8 as well, despite the drought ^^

(16) Next time, this cricket anon will bring some more noise ~ I hope your real-life stuff works out well too :D Once again, thank you for answering all of my messages, and for writing this awesomely written fanfiction! While I wait for the next chapter, I think I'm going to re-read songs of siren hehehe :3 Please stay safe!

Please do! Song of Sirens is definitely a story I would have loved to treat like “Dorm Life” in a sense that it would have turned out better if I had worked on it longer, but I’m still a fan of the big brain energy I had running through my veins when I came up with the mythological aspect of the story…lmao So I hope you will enjoy re-reading it. ^^ Chapter 8 is longer than Song of Sirens (just as a side note haha)

(17) Ah!! I forgot to mention!! After I re-read it, my most favorite literary device that you used in this fanfiction (lol this commentary is beginning to sound like a Literature essay) is the Biblical Allusions? I am not sure if this was your intention, but the juxtapositions of Bible verses or reference to God, in Taemin’s thought reminds me heavily of Taemin’s songs, particularly Heaven? It be a sexy time song if you look at the lyrics, but the composition is that of a choir church song

(18) I find the contrast chilling, and maybe you were trying to invoke that feeling to the readers? Orrr maybe I am perhaps, indeed, reading too much into this hahaha ^^;; but really! I really enjoy reading your fanfictions and coming up with analyzations, it’s very fun, and the fact that I can discuss or ask you questions about it is just makes it even more fun – since in Literature classes we can’t actually ask the author of their true intentions right hahaha okay!! I am done :3 Thank you!! <3

It was my intention and still is, so I’m glad you picked up on that. ^^ I always wanted to write a fanfic in which Taemin’s religion plays a role – even if it’s just on the side – I always make some references to Dante’s circles of Hell (when Taemin is being dramatic again) or I also made a reference to Hieronymus Bosch’s painting The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things in chapter 8. (I’m a big fan of his work – that dude was wild – the way he painted blows my mind every time I look at one of his paintings). So yes, dramatic Taemin talking about religion and throwing around with biblical references is my brain being wild. ^^ 

I would say that ‘Dorm Life’ is not a really deep story, but I did put a lot of thought into it to not make it your regular smut/romance fanfic. I mean it took time, still does – but I’m glad when people, like you dear cricket nony, appreciate it. So thank you so much for your kind words and sending me all your thoughts and interpretations. <3 I hope you will have a lovely December – please stay healthy and please take good care of yourself. <3

[lynneshobbydomain]

Vengeance Chapter Five

(I hope no one minds the early update, but due to a paper that I have to get done on Saturday, I thought it was best to post this now as I won’t have time to write until Sunday. As always thank you @sinfulwonders for your beta-reading and thank you sunflower_8 (do you even have a tumblr, where are you?) for helping me as well. You two are so lovely and I’m so grateful. Thank you thank you. Thank you for reading, for reblogging, and for liking my chapters as well. You’re all so kind.)

Rated: NSFW (Danganronpa I’m sorry)

Summary:  Amateur Detective Shuichi Saihara knew that searching for the “Usual 16” wasn’t going to get him anywhere. The disappearances weren’t being tracked in any news outlet, and very few families even tried to come forward to ask for help, let alone to report them missing. Yet, Shuichi can’t shake off the feeling that there’s a reason behind the disappearances, and he’s close to the answer.He just didn’t realize that the answer was going to hit close to home, in more ways than one.

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You can read this below the cut or at AO3

“That’s a face."

Shuichi startled as he looked over to see Kokichi peering at him from underneath the hat. His expression was mischievous and teasing, but the violets of his eyes spoke volumes of worry and concern. He didn’t hear Kokichi approach the school’s gate. He supposed he was a little out of it. Staking out places and trying not to get caught, added to the excitement that they won a tournament, he was starting to feel socially drained. He was surprised he didn’t fall asleep during class. He knew that the circles under his eyes were going to make Kokichi force him into another “skip class for a day” situation if he didn’t find a way to get sleep tonight. “I’m sorry.” Shuichi murmured as he tugged his hat down. “It’s been...it’s been a week.”

Kokichi flicked the hat’s brim up a little. “Looks like you’re about to get turned into a ghost or a corpse at this rate.” The joke was a little off, but Shuichi didn’t blame him for it. “I thought we agreed that sleeping was a good thing, Shuichi-chan. Good dreams! Do I need to break into your house again?” They started walking away from the school and headed down towards the street.

“You’re going to break into the house no matter what I say. I’m surprised you haven’t lately.” Shuichi paused and he looked at Kokichi, who suddenly started biting his thumb. “Are...are Deuce and Trick okay?” They were the ones everyone was most concerned about, considering their home life. It wouldn’t surprise Shuichi at all if Kokichi was trying to stay out with them to prevent them from going home, or at the very least trying to find ways to shelter them.

“They’re fine.” Kokichi replied, waving off the concern expertly. “We’re just trying to think about the place of attack. The hospital was a hit. Did you see the newspapers?! They still haven’t figured us out yet!”

“I did. My uncle nearly had an aneurysm over the phone when he called me.” Shuichi smiled lightly. “He knew immediately that it was you. Deuce-kun needs to change his signature.”

“Ugh, of course he’d give us away.” Kokichi groaned as he rolled his eyes. He brought his arms up over his head and leaned into the casual posture. “But you know, maybe we should keep the signature. You know, just in case someone else wants to try their hand at mystery solving. It isn’t fun if the Saihara’s are always on the case.”

“Oh believe me, we have our rivals.” Shuichi accepted the teasing. “I just don’t think we care too much.”

“You wouldn’t, which is either a testament to how good you are or how uncaring you are. I on the other hand adore my rivals.” Kokichi let his arms down and he immediately grabbed onto Shuichi’s arm, holding him close to him. “After all if that’s how I met you then maybe someone in my group will fall for their own rival. Then our group can get bigger. We could rule all of Japan. With you by my side. What do you say?”

“You’re insane and I love you.” Shuichi offered.

“Boring.”

“I love you or that you’re insane?” Shuichi raised an eyebrow.

“The love you part, duh. I already know Shuichi-chan loves me. He loves me so much, he did all that dirty work for me without too much of a hassle. He did ask too many questions though.” The grip on his arm only tightened, and Shuichi knew that Kokichi was lying. Well, he was lying about thinking the “love” part was boring. He was pretty certain everything else he was saying was true.

As they walked, Shuichi noticed a black car turning a corner and his eyebrow lifted slightly. Remembering the conversation that he had with Aki the other night made him concerned. Considering that he didn’t see whether or not they had a plate on them or not, he decided to give the benefit of the doubt for now. Kokichi cleared his throat and he realized that he must have spaced again.

“I’m coming home with you.” Kokichi proclaimed.

“Ah, what?” Shuichi blinked.

“I’m coming home with you. You’re acting weird and I don’t think you’d get on the right train without me.” Kokichi carefully dislodged himself from his arm and slipped his hand down into Shuichi’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “You’d be all discombobulated if you got off at the wrong station.”

“Are you sure you’re talking about me and not about Shuffle-chan?”

“She’d like the adventure too much and she’d call us if she got really, really lost. Shuichi-chan isn’t all that bright. You’d try to solve the mystery before you called us to tell us you got lost.” Kokichi pouted. “And leave me and Aki-chan to worry.”

“You’d worry. I think Aki-chan would just laugh at you for being scared.”

“Waah!” Kokichi let him go as he burst into tears. “You’re so mean to me! I’m just worried about you and you’re laughing at me!”

“Ah, I’m sorry Kokichi-kun. I’m sorry!” Shuichi’s neck turned hot as he could feel the gaze of the crowd lingering on them. He wanted to hide and he wanted Kokichi to stop making a scene. “Please stop crying, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m glad you’re worried about me. Honest.”

“Nishishi.” Kokichi’s tears immediately dried as though he hadn’t been crying in the first place. Shuichi still was trying to figure out how he could do that on command. Not even his mother could cry on demand, which was saying something considering she was a talented actress of her time.

Shuichi wanted off of that train of thought as fast as he possibly could. “You really are acting out of it. Did a certain someone try to contact you?”

“Ah no, I think that hasn’t happened in some time.” Shuichi shook his head. “Just a lot of thoughts. I’m sorry.”

“Well. No need to fret anymore. I’ll make all those worries and thoughts disappear when we get home.” Kokichi clung onto his arm again. “It’s the least you can do for making me cry, and maybe if you got some sleep.”

Shuichi sighed loudly.

                                                           X

Aki wasn’t home yet. Shuichi had put that thought away as he was busy trying to keep Kokichi from doing anything too insane. That meant being subjected to game after game, and trying to keep up with any riddles that the D.I.C.E. leader could find either on the internet or something that he made up on the spot. Right now, they had just finished building a blanket fort and both of them were snuggling, practically lying on top of each other.

“Hmm, it’s almost eight. Should we order takeout?” Kokichi mused. “I haven’t heard the door open, and Aki-chan isn’t back yet I don’t think.”

“Eight?” Shuichi glanced over sleepily to see that Kokichi was holding his phone in his hand, staring at the home screen. “Can you send her a message asking if she went to your hide out or something? See if she wants something or if she’s eating with friends.”

Kokichi nodded and Shuichi listened to the obnoxious beeping sounds of the buttons being pressed. He knew that Kokichi could change that in his settings, but for whatever reason, Kokichi wanted the most annoying thing he could find. He was just grateful that it was no longer the duck sounds.

Of course that theory went out the window as the phone blasted a horn sound through its speakers. Shuichi startled, staring at the phone and then back up to Kokichi. Kokichi nonchalantly flicked his thumb against the screen. He could hear his own phone going off in his school bag, but Shuichi felt too comfortable to move away from Kokichi or the fort that they had built. The bluish light tinted Kokichi's face and casted a shadow of concern and worry on his eyes.

“Kokichi-kun?” Shuichi watched as Kokichi moved so that he was sitting up right, legs immediately crossed as he leaned forward, his phone practically pressed up against his face. The concern only turned Shuichi’s blood cold and he quickly scrambled out of the fort to go to his backpack, ripping it open to dive for his phone that was somewhere deep in the abyss. He hated that his backpack could consume anything that was small. He was certain that he had a good assortment of blue and purple pens somewhere down there at the bottom, but he couldn’t find them, nor did he ever put in the effort of actually turning his back upside down.

He felt the vibration before he could feel his phone. He snatched towards the phone’s  direction and yanked it out, ignoring the many papers that flew out with it. He saw that there were several notifications on his screen from the D.I.C.E chat, but also Discord was surprisingly blowing up too around the same time. There was also an email that he received. He only glanced at Danganronpa, before deciding to ignore it for now. It was probably spam or some type of advertisement, and he wasn’t about to get into that when he was too concerned about why Kokcihi was suddenly on alert.

Shuichi quickly got on to the D.I.C.E’s chat and saw with a sinking heart why Kokichi had turned so pale.

[ Widow: Masashi-kun and Touru-kun are the hospital, so there’s no one at the hideout. If Saihara-san really did come by to visit us, she would have probably left as soon as she saw the lights were off. ]

[ March: Do I need to be down there. ]

[ Widow: No. We have it under control. We’re getting them out of that house. ]

[ Solo: Ouma-kun is more than welcome to stay here. I know Saihara-kun will undoubtedly want him at his place too. I’m concerned about Saihara-san. That’s abnormal. Wouldn’t she be home? ]

[ March: Shuichi-chan’s worried. He’s also reading this chat. ]

[ Matador: I’m sorry to hear about Masashi-kun and Touru-kun. If we need to be there, we can be there. I just have to find a way to let Aki-chan know that we’re there. I’m worried. She would have responded to the chat by now. ]

[ Shuffle: (,,꒪꒫꒪,,) But I thought Chi-chan was home. ]

[ March: Explain. ]

[ Shuffle: (ó﹏ò｡) Aki-chan didn’t walk with me to school today. ]

Both Kokichi and Shuichi looked up at each other at the same time. Shuichi felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was nearing twelve hours then. He knew that the first few hours would’ve been critical if someone was going to be saved. Reporting it now would be a shot in the dark, but at least a chance.

Shuichi let Kokichi handle the D.I.C.E chat. Meanwhile he sent a text to his uncle, his thumbs hitting the wrong keys as his hands shook. He didn’t realize the screen was getting blurry until he felt something warm drip down his cheeks. She told him. Just a few nights ago, she told him that she was worried. She told him that she was afraid that there was someone following her.

Shuichi hadn’t done a thing. He should have encouraged her to report it. He should have told her that she needed to call their guardian. She could have been saved. Aki could have been saved. If he just had…

[ Uncle: Breathe, kid, I already texted Keiko. I’m going to swing by the police department and file a report. Best to do it and be wrong, than to be right and never have a chance. Chances are, Aki forgot to tell us that she had somewhere to be. ]

Shuichi really hoped that was the case, but he wasn’t sure about that. Trying to distract himself, he decided to go back towards the D.I.C.E chat, and saw that Kokichi already ordered them to stay where they were, and to take care of Deuce and Trick. Shuichi didn’t have any energy to feel angry for them. He really hated that the system had let them down like it had, and he really hoped that they were okay. He really hoped that his Uncle was right and that Aki was okay. That she just was late. That she did just forget.

He also knew that if she had been, Aki would’ve texted. He also knew that if she was anywhere near her phone, that entire conversation would have had her concern in it too. She probably would have echoed the same offer Shuichi gave full heartedly about needing to be there, if they had to be there.

“Shuichi-chan?” Kokichi said quietly and Shuichi looked up to see that Kokichi had crawled out of the blanket fort and was sitting next to him. His hand was hovering between them, as though he wasn't sure if he could grab onto Shuichi or not. Shuichi bowed his head and Kokichi immediately opened his arms towards him, dragging him to lean against his body.

“What happened to Masashi-kun and Touru-kun? Did anyone specify?” The lump burned at his throat as he attempted to speak around it. His stomach was twisted into so many knots, Shuichi wasn’t sure how to start untangling them. He could feel Kokichi tremble underneath him, or maybe it was just him shaking like a leaf and unable to get a hold of himself.

“To put it mildly, parents suck.” Kokichi answered as he flicked his thumb against the screen.

Shuichi nodded, understanding. He tried to think about what they needed to do. What could they do? There was absolutely nothing either one of them could do. Kokichi could go to the hospital. Kokichi was their leader, but Shuichi also knew that trying to tell Kokichi to leave while he was like this wasn't going to happen. Kokichi knew how to be stubborn.

“What about Aki-chan?” Kokichi decided to press softly. “What did we decide to do?”

It shouldn’t warm his heart to hear Kokichi refer to himself as family, but Shuichi needed the support. “Uncle Koji’s coming home. Aunt Keiko’s already been informed. We’re…” He swallowed thickly, feeling a renewed burning in his eyes as tears threatened to spill. “We’re reporting her missing.”

Kokichi nodded solemnly as he pulled away from him and started brushing away at his tears. “We’ll find her.” He said after a moment. “She’s one of us. She’s easy to find.”

“Yeah?”

“Pfft, you really doubt me don’t you?” Kokichi’s voice raised a little. He held his finger out, pointing at Shuichi. “Did you forget that we’re a team of ten thousand strong?!”

“N-no.” There were only eleven members. “Then why don’t I ever see them at the meetings?”

“How the hell am I going to stuff that many people in our house? Jeez, Shuichi-chan, it’s called Discord. You should know it by now.” Kokichi huffed and Shuichi faintly laughed. “Honestly the audacity you have to doubt your own boyfriend, let alone your own leader .”

“Sorry.” Shuichi quickly bowed his head, and he could feel Kokichi shift. “So. You think that she’ll be found?”

“No doubt about it. So come on Shuichi, let’s go back into the fort yeah? I’m sure Koji-chan and Keiko-chan will prefer it if you didn’t worry over stupid things.” Kokichi gently took Shuichi’s hand. “Besides, what can you do right now? All we have is people telling us that she’s gone. Nothing to say where. Nothing to say who. Until we get that information, what can we start doing? It’s the city, not the wilderness.”

Shuichi couldn’t deny that Kokichi was right. There really was no way to figure out where she was at the time. He felt his phone buzz next to him and he reached for it automatically. Another email from Danganronpa.

Frowning, he decided to open the email app. He could mark it a spam so that he could focus on more important things. Just as he reached the inbox, he saw the complete subject box. The first email that was sent had the subject line of: Thank you for your tribute and your impending participation. Which felt as ominous as it sounded. The second email had the line of: Are you ready for a game of thrills, chills and kills?

“What’s wrong?” Kokichi asked and Shuichi angled his phone towards his boyfriend’s direction. “Um...what?”

“That’s my impression too. I don’t…”

Kokichi yanked the phone out of Shuichi’s hand. “If I reply to the spam email, do you think I’ll be as famous as that English comedian back in the U.K?”

“No? They’re probably going to think that you’re doing this to be like him to begin with.” Shuichi wouldn’t mind it if Kokichi tried to send a prank back at them. Maybe if he did that, he’d be left alone.

“Thank you for your tribute and participation,” Kokichi suddenly read aloud, causing Shuichi to look at him. “As you know, this game only happens once a year and with the best choices that were picked from judges. We had over thirty auditions this year, and it was hard to narrow down the choices to just sixteen.” He paused and Shuichi felt all color drain from his face. Sixteen. Kokichi glanced at him before continuing. “We hope that you will continue to participate in the game as you have done in the previous years. If this is your first time getting this email, congratulations on being a part of the Danganronpa family. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

“What.” Shuichi replied, staring at him like he just grew another head.

Kokichi quickly deleted that email and went to the next one. “Dear Danganronpa Fanatics. Welcome back to the fifty-second game! The rules have changed slightly due to audiences wishing to take more of a role in our games. We are so excited to share what we have in store for you. As you are aware, we have opened our doors to allow family members who are close to the contestants to have a special invite so that they can watch and participate too. Isn’t that exciting? Bear in mind that the audience and the family members are going to be anonymous, meaning that you will not know who is who during this time to make the voting fair. Yes, that’s right! Voting time! You will not be voting during the class trials unfortunately, as that is for the contestants to deal with. Instead, you will be voting anywhere from favorite colors to motive videos.”

“Motive videos?” Shuichi asked weakly. “Game? What do they mean by class trials?!”

“I don’t know.” Kokichi bit his thumb as he stared at the email. “It goes on to talk about that the voting is majority rules, and that you can only influence the game so much. You may get a chance to do a video talking directly to the contestant, but you have to be aware that the motive videos may be switched among the players, so you may want to choose words carefully. Jeez, for a spam email, they sure decided to go the dark route, didn’t they?”

“I no longer think that’s spam.” But what else could it be? Shuichi never heard of Danganronpa before. He doubted that his cousin would have even known about it either. They didn’t go around looking for things like that, at least he didn’t think she would. Then again, missing people always had secrets. He glanced at the wall that his computer desk was pushed up against. The very same wall that he could hear her guitar. Missing people always had secrets that even the closest relatives didn’t know about.

He never thought that there would be a day he would have to investigate his own cousin. He never thought that he would have to dig out her secrets. He looked at the phone that was resting in Kokichi’s hand, seeing the words that were printed on the screen. He doubted about the auditions. He doubted that there was such a thing.

Takahashi said it best, didn’t he? That if he was going to kidnap, he would scout out his potential targets. That was what those black cars were for.

“The Usual Sixteen.” Shuichi murmured quietly.

“Please tell me you’re not thinking about trying to use a case to distract you. I’m right here.” Kokichi pouted, but the mood didn’t match. He was trying, and Shuichi appreciated it.

“No, that’s wrong.” Shuichi shook his head. “I was thinking...Danganronpa specifically mentioned that sixteen were selected out of the thirty that they scouted.”

“Yes…” Kokichi agreed slowly. “You think that…”

“The Usual Sixteen were in Danganronpa. But why? If it’s a game, shouldn’t they have returned home?” Shuichi pursed his lips together. “That’s what bothers me about it.”

“There’s a link in the email.” Kokichi glanced down at the email. “We could...turn it on...confirm our suspicions.”

“...I think I’d like my uncle to take a look at it first.” Shuichi determined. “I’d rather have him know that I got these emails and see what his professional opinion is. Chances are, we may not have a choice but to hand over my phone as evidence, because of the links that are on it. They may be able to trace something.”

“If that’s what you want, beloved. I won’t stop you.” Kokichi sighed as he handed the phone back to Shuichi. “But can you send me those emails to my phone regardless?”

“Why?” Shuichi’s brows furrowed.

“I want Solo-kun to see if he can’t trace it.”

“I mean…” He trailed off. The police were sometimes too slow and if Aki was a part of it, then they needed to know now before something happened. “I guess.”

“Cool! Thank you babe!”

“Oh god please no.”

“Baby~”

“No.”

“Bambino.”

“Kokichi-kun, no.”

[powerovernothing]

Okay so ive been devouring you TKTEATA au and let me tell you its aborable, but as i understand it korbin went through the oblivion crisis , and i have this little hurt/comfort scene that i put all my characters through and it goes as follows " a little child comes up to the HOK and innocently asked them if they were a black smith, when asked why they would think that they get the answer of "because you smell like fire and brimstone it clings to your clothes"

Considering that both of these scenarios are actually rather similar with both of them dealing with instances where Korbin interacts with small and curious children, and I have been putting off the latter for quite some time – mostly because things in real life got in the way, and I honestly really want to apologize to my Mistress Sis for the incredibly long wait for those delicious feelings! – I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to actually combine these both together, and answer at the very same time!

Starting with, of course, taking a moment and personally thanking you for all the wonderful and fantastic support and attention that you’ve been giving my Oblivion Verse lately! I saw the massive amount of notifications through my phone, and I honestly turned completely blood red with happiness at the fact that you enjoyed it so much that you went on a supportive spamming fest!

It means so much, and I am so glad that you enjoy the things I write, and that you enjoy Korbin’s story and his interactions with his brothers. It means so much, and I just want to wrap you in the biggest hug possible! So, thank you, for not only enjoying my things, but also leaving me a wonderful message to get my creative juices flowing!

Now, with that out of the way, let’s get into both of these scenarios dealing with Korbin and the subject of interacting with children, shall we?

(*~*4K Words Split Between Two Scenarios Involving Korbin And Children Underneath The Cut! Tons Of Fluff, Angst, And Other Emotions Abound!*~*)

Throughout the course of my story, especially in the Revised Timeline where things are considerably better – for the most part, at least, Sheogorath’s influence in His Little Raven’s head aside – and Korbin has a chance to live his life with his older adoptive siblings at his side, he actually does interact with children quite regularly. Mostly, and with it referencing the question that Jonathan Crane’s Mistress of Fear sent me, through his time spent with the homeless and those forgotten and abandoned upon the streets of the Waterfront District of the Imperial City.

You see, considering that Korbin spent several of his young childhood yearsalso growing up on those streets, alone and abandoned just as well, he knowshow it feels, and he never wants to see those who are in a similar place sufferwhen there is actually something he can do to help improve and better theirsituation.

So, any of the money that he earns through Dark Brotherhood contracts – early on in the Revised Timeline, and directly after Bellamont’s death – or the work he does assisting the new recruits and everything else at both Lucien and Vicente’s side – seven months after Bellamont’s death, and everything that comes later in the aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis – he takes and uses to help support those on the streets.

He spends it on fresh food, warm blankets, simple weapons so that they might protect themselves, and anything else that might help keep them save throughout the long and difficult nights. Everything that he didn’t have when he was a child. He never minds doing it, always happy to present his packages to those in need, and always smiles and wishes them well whenever he does.

Sometimes he does it in secret, sometimes he interacts with those he helps, itjust all depends… however, in one instance where he was assisting those inthe Waterfront District, and he was in the process of dropping out somepackages, he suddenly felt a weight press against his back.

Instinctively he reached for the dagger that he keeps near his person, unknowing whether or not this was someone who could actually do him harm, but upon turning his head towards the direction of his attacker to cast them a darkened glare as warning, he found emerald eyes staring back into his own golden gaze.

Realizing then what he was mere seconds from doing, his hand quickly fell away from his blade, and his breathing hitched in his throat.

It was a child. A small Argonian girl; barely more than a handful of years in age, clutching onto his armor in a white knuckled grip, as she attempted to bury herself within the folds of the leather with a muffled whimper. She looked frail, disheveled, and absolutely terrified.

Shifting around, he pulled the girl back to arm’s length, and questioned with a gentle chuckle as to why she thought it wise to latch onto the first armor clad stranger upon the streets, and how if he had been anyone else, she would not have been even half as lucky.

He had meant it as a way to quell her frantic emotions, and focus her attention solely upon him, instead of her own feelings and the world around her… but it seemed when he finished speaking, she became even more afraid, and trembled like a leaf underneath his oversized hands upon her shoulders.

It was the direct opposite of what he wanted.

Shutting his eyes briefly, he sighed under his breath because of his misstep, and then reached to carefully cup the side of her face. As the girl reacted to his touch, he slowly raised her chin until their eyes met once again, and then began a very different set of questions in a far softer tone.

What exactly had frightened her in such a way, what he could do to take away the source of her fear, and most important…what would allow her smile to return.

It turned out, what had frightened her so incredibly was the fact that she was hungry, and she wasn’t thinking properly. She was hungry, and she had taken a chance to nab something fresh and warm to eat… however, in the process, she wound up getting caught by the owner of the meal – a very angry, very cruel, very frightening Imperial man – and he processed to describe in detail the things he would to her, before turning her over to the guards so that they might proceed to do the rest to worthless and pitiful thieves.

This alone caused Korbin’s heart to twist in anger, rage, and… familiarity. Because this is exactly the type of thing that he did when he was growing up – in fact, this is the very thing that landed him in the Imperial Prisons in the Original Timeline to begin with, which led to him meeting Uriel and everything that followed – and because of that, when the young girl was able to get free, and then start running in her own tears, and huddle herself against the nearest person she thought could protect her, Korbin proceeded to do that very thing.

He stood his ground against the cruel man, awarding him a swift punch in the face that caused him to fall to his knees, but he merely chuckled as the blood ran down the corner of his lips.

He reached for the dagger at his belt once again, but before he chose to act on every feeling he had, and how he had chosen to take it out on this man alone, he told the young girl to run and hide behind the nearest corner and cover her ears. And, when it was all said and done, he would come and find her, and make certain she was protected more properly from anything and everything that tried to hurt her from thereon.

In the aftermath of the man’s death, and once Korbin hastily cleaned himself of the blood of his victim and went and found the girl just as he promised… she latched herself onto him and saw him as a helpful giant that would keep her safe from the world around her. In a sense, think of it as the relationship between the Little Sister’s, and the Big Daddy’s of the Bioshock series.

She looks up at him, and she sees someone who is larger than life itself. Someone who is basically a hero, a Knight in Shining Armor, and someone that she cares about and knows will protect her.

Contrary to what you may think, he doesn’t instantly snatch her up and take her back to the warm comforts of Cloud Ruler Temple to introduce her to his adoptive brothers. Even though there is a part of him that truly wants to do that, and make certain she is cared for, he knows it would be too much of a shock. So, instead, he allows her to grab his hand, and take him to where she stays within the Waterfront District.

The young girl doesn’t speak much, she is hardly three years old in the human equivalent to her Argonian age, and mostly just mutters or whispers, thus she takes his hand with a small whisper of ‘Home’ and drags him to her special place. To the outside eye, it’s nothing special. A makeshift blanket fort that a normal child would have, but Korbin?

He is patient, he is understanding, and is absolutely telling her in many words how wonderful it is, and how pretty she made it, and asks politely if he can snuggle under the blankets as well just to be playful and make her laugh.

He always goes out of his way to leave her extra gifts, and small packages to keep her warm and protected, and in one instance where he does visit her the next time around… and the young girl has somehow managed to fall very sick because of the exposure to the elements around her, that is when he scoops her up and takes her back to the warmth of Cloud Ruler Temple.

She remains underneath his and his brother’s care for a short while, and they eventually end up finding her a proper family to adopt and raise her when it is time for her and her protectors to go their separate ways. However, if you’re wanting to know more about this young Argonian girl in more detail than what I mentioned in the above, allow me!

Her name is Me’elni, although her translated name would actually be Whispered-Melodies. She is four years old in Argonian, although that would translate into three years old when you do the math in terms of human years.

(I have an entire life span chart that I made for the different races of theElder Scrolls world when I was in the process of creating side characters forKorbin’s story, so if you ever want to see it for reference or just out ofcuriosity, just ask and I’ll post it up!) 

She was born in Midyear 430 of the Third Era, thus making her Birthsign be The Steed in the Elder Scrolls world, and Gemini in the real-life Zodiac equivalent. She is incredibly short, around 3′8″, and barely comes up to Korbin’s thigh. As mentioned above, she hardly talks – as she is very young, and the world around her is terrifying, and no one was here to teach her how to speak properly – but when she is under the care of Korbin and his brothers, she is able to start speaking in single phrases and gives the boys special nicknames because of her time spent within their care.

Korbin’s chosen nicknames are either‘Tall’, from when she first met him, ‘Safe’ when she started being in his care, or ‘Da’ when she started becoming incredibly attached to him. Martin’s nicknames are ‘Glowy’, from his magic and the times where he entertained her through various light shows, as well as ‘Warm’, because of the way his magic feels to her touch. And for Lucien? ‘Pointy’, because one of the first things she noticed about him was his dagger, and then ‘Dark’ because of the way he tends to dress in his black robing.

Her design is based off of a red bearded dragon, and because of this, she tends to ‘poof out’ and hiss whenever she is overly angry, or whenever she is trying to look threatening to those that seem to be scary – yes, she hissed at Lucien, and he found it overly adorable as he has a weakness for young Argonians being a father of two in the past – and whenever she is incredibly happy or excited, she tends to stomp around or wave her arms back and forth. She also has an intense weakness for the tastes of blueberries and cannot get enough of sweets that are made from them.

She also has quite an ear for music, and in her adult life she becomes a lute player that travels with a band of bards. She never gets to the point where she is able to speak easily, or clearly, but she is able to weave music so nicely that she says everything she needs to through her songs. However, another thing I feel as though I should speak about in relation to Me’elni is that she… is actually the daughter of Runs-In-Circles in my Oblivion Verse.

I’m still currently in the process of working out every single detail relating to her mother’s history – as well as giving her a proper name one of these days – but I know for a fact that she had ties to the Thieves Guild at some point in her early life, and when she gave birth to her daughter, and tried to do whatever was needed to provide for her and keep her safe, she somehow managed to make her way to the Shivering Isles, and is unable to make her way out of the hold that he has on her.

But some part of her, is still very much aware of her past life, as even in her Mania addled mind, she still calls out to the daughter she wishes to go back to – whenever she runs around and screams ‘Nini’ over and over again.

Nini is Me’elni’s affectionate nickname.

Is that sad? Is that just a little too far over the edge in terms of angst? Perhaps so, but welcome to my Oblivion Verse, here are your free package of tissues, and please feel free to leave your heart at the door! In any case, I believe that about covers one of those scenarios, based around what would happen if Korbin befriended and temporarily adopted a young homeless girl… now to tackle the over scenario that you left for me, my dear and wonderful Lady La Luna!

Now, this one really made me start thinking about things in a more creative sense, I have to say! It‘s so very interesting, so very unique, and I honestly just wanted to try and give you a more in depth answer than what you were probably expecting!

Well, I mean, as you can see, I tend to go above and beyond in terms of details… but as for your scenario, how about I answer it with what Korbin would do in both the Original Timeline – the one in which the events of Oblivion take place without any massive change, and thus Korbin loses his brothers in the end – as well as how he would react in the Revised Timeline – where Korbin makes a deal with Sheogorath to reverse the timeline and rewrite the story so that he can save his brothers from their fates – at the same time?

After all, in both timelines Korbin is a very different person, and would have different reactions if a child suddenly came up to him and asked him this question and gave that reasoning behind it. So, let’s start with the Original Timeline answer, shall we?

In the Original Timeline there was a bit of a gap between the ending of the Oblivion Crisis, Martin’s death, and Korbin choosing to head to the Shivering Isles.

In the aftermath of Martin’s death, and when Chancellor Ocato came to Korbin’s – basically comatose – side as he knelt in front of the nearly formed Akatosh statue, and the remains of the shattered Amulet of Kings, and asked where Martin had gone, and why he was no longer present… Korbin reacted by suddenly standing to his feet, rushing out into the falling rain, and getting as much distance as he could before he collapsed down to his knees and screamed out in agony of everything that had happened.

And when he was done, and his screaming was finished, and his throat was raw? Then he simply started walking.

He got on the road, he headed southwards, to which would eventually lead him to Bravil, and numbly continued on until he hoped the road would finally give out at some point. So, in this scenario, let us say that Korbin actually went into and stayed at Bravil for a while before heading towards the Strange Door that would take him to the Shivering Isles. He is numb, he is broken, he is hardly feeling a single thing, and hardly allowing himself to react in any possible way that isn’t in bitter sadness.

And if a child came up to him? If a child tugged on the leg of his Shrouded Armor and innocently asked him if he was a blacksmith? I think that strange question would be enough to knock Korbin out of his daze for a time.

He doesn’t want to be rude, he doesn’t want to ignore the child, after all… for some reason this child wished to come up to him – the stranger who had, unknowingly to this child, lost everything and everyone he had ever loved – and ask him a question. So, who would he be if he didn’t take the time to answer? Thus, Korbin would kneel down, put on his best fake smile, and wonder why this young boy – let’s say boy in this scenario, as in the other it was a girl – is asking him something like that.

Does he look that messy? Does he look as though he’s been working with steel all day that he is sweating? Or is this child simply confused? And when the young boy answers him, and telling him that he asked because he smelt like fire and brimstone, and the scent has managed to cling itself to his clothing…

…Well, that would be enough for Korbin to make his choice to leave Cyrodiil behind him. If the fact that the scent, the memory, and the regret of what he had done within those damnable Gates of Oblivion still linger even after a week of traveling from the Imperial City to Bravil… then he needs to move on somehow.

His smile would falter, he would pet the boy’s head, and tell him that no, he’s not a blacksmith. He’s just a very dirty, very messy man, who has made so many bad choices that it’s about time that he did something to clean himself up.

And at first, his thoughts lead down a much more darkened road, to where he wishes he could simply find the nearest cliffside and end up reuniting with his brothers one way or another, but when he leaves Bravil and he sees a glowing door in the distance, that is when his choice is made for him, and the pieces start to fall into place.

But in the Revised Timeline? When everything is a touch better, and his brothers are alive and well, and he does not have the guilt he carries from his mistakes of the Original Timeline? He would be in considerable better spirits.

He would laugh with the young boy, asking if he truly looks that messy, and if he should consider leaping into the nearest lake to bathe himself properly! Is this why his brothers seemed to sneer at him lately? Because of the way he smelt? Dear sweet Sithis, he should do something about this, and stat!

He would shake his hair, playfully state that – oh no, now the young boy is just as messy as he is whatever shall we both do! – and then pick the boy up and spin him around for a moment. Saying that perhaps the two of them should head home to their families and get themselves a nice bath before they are scolded from their lack of personal hygiene!

And when the young child walks off with a large smile on his face, and hopefully a giggle to match that smile, he would return to what he was doing with a smile as well.

But for a more secret reason.

After all, he knows that the scent of Oblivion still lingers on his clothing, and possibly even on his own body, and perhaps that scent will never actually leave – no matter how many times he bathes himself or tries to wipe it clean. But Korbin doesn’t mind too much. Even though it is a reminder of everything he had tried to forget, every horror, every Daedra, every flame, or burn, or injury from the depth of those Gates, he takes it all in stride.

Because he survived those Gates. He survived the Crisis. He is alive, even when he thought he would lose his life so many times before, and his brothers are alive just as well.

All three of them are alive… and if the scent of Oblivion has to remain on him for the rest of his life somehow, then he will simply accept it, and look at it as a reminder of something better. A better outcome, a better life, a happier existence, and one where he will share with his family at his side. And honestly, all things considered,Korbin truly doesn’t think that’s all too bad of a trade~

…Oh, my goodness, that wound up turning out way longer than I first planned for it to be! Looking at my word count at the moment, it’s nearly four thousand words, and I am still in the process of going! I’m so sorry that this ended up being quite the ramble, and thus quite the read for you to sit through, but I loved both yours and my dear Mistress Sis’ question and scenarios so much, that I would have honestly felt so bad if I didn’t take the time to try and give you the answer that you both so rightfully deserved!

If you both managed to get through this massive read, then I mostly certainly want to applaud your devotion and desire to learn a little bit more about Korbin and his interactions with children!

My dear Sis, I’m so sorry that I took forever to get around to replying to your question properly, and I’m sorry that I kind of had to end up combining things together in the end, but I hope that you don’t mind! I hope that you like the young Argonian girl that Korbin partially adopted, as well as the scenario and information that I posted above about her and his interactions, and that it somehow managed to put a smile on your face!

I know that you aren’t that big of a fan of Elder Scrolls, but truly – and I’ve probably stated this so many times over in the last little while – your support and care for Korbin always warms my heart. I’m so glad that you like my boy, his story, and the things that he creates. I always cherish and adore your questions, and I look forward to answering the rest of them soon! Thank you again, darling!

And, dear Lady La Luna! Let me just say that it truly means a lot that you enjoyed my work so much! Seeing the wave of activity in my feed just made my entire night, and your support, your curiosity, and your questions means more than you will know, and I hope that my given answer for your scenario will be something that you will end up enjoying by the time you’re finished reading it over!

And not only that, but I hope the upcoming things that I have planned for Korbin and his tale with his adoptive siblings will be something that you will enjoy the further it goes on!

In any case, I know that this is long, and has been filled with tons of emotions on both sides, but I just wanted to say thank you again. You guys’ support, and desire to hear, learn, and know more about Korbin and his story is what keeps me going even when my creativity decides to take a break at times!

So, I appreciate, love, and adore each and every single one of you! And Korbin does just as well, I promise you that! Thanks again for the great questions, and the wonderful support, and until the next time I decide to ramble on about a silver haired boy and his silly siblings! Hugs and kisses all around! ♥

[strwbrryeos]

My Blood, Your Tears 02

summary; Two rival factions vie for control over the city and the government: the Min family and the Kim family. Generations of feuds fuel the struggle for power. In the new generation, Kim Namjoon continues his father’s battle, unaware of the Min family’s secret weapon.

genre; mafia!au, series, angst, smut, fluff

pairing; mafia leader!namjoon x mafia member!reader

contains; fluff in this one!, some sexual tension, no smut (sorry), but heavy kissing, kind of a filler to the next piece of drama

previous | next

You’re falling...falling...falling.

You awake with a start to darkness, a hand to your chest as you calm yourself down. A sigh escapes your lips as you roll over to find your phone, prefering to numb your brain on the device than toss and turn when you know you won’t be falling asleep again anytime soon.

You have a surprising amount of unread messages. Most of them are from Yoongi; the man never sleeps, and there’s always something new on his mind. He’s spammed you with all sorts of things he wants you to get from Namjoon when you get the chance. Your less serious messages, on the other hand, come from Taehyung and his weird sense of humor.

But, of course, your most interesting notification comes from the one and only Kim Namjoon. Just now. Your eyes flicker to the time.

City lights look good at this time.

What’s he doing looking at lights at 4:32 in the morning?

He’s probably wandering the city doing something sketchy and illegal, but he’s definitely not going to admit that to you, and you definitely have no right to judge him.

You dial his number, and he answers immediately.

“What are you doing awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you laugh.

“Oh, you know,” he says, “just working the night shift.”

“Night shift? Don’t you have a day job?”

“Uh…”

“Caught red handed, huh?”

“It’s overtime.”

“Will I ever learn the truth of your late night endeavours?” you muse.

“Ha, maybe if you’re lucky.”

“What constitutes as lucky?”

“Why don’t you come over and find out?”

“Is that a question?”

“More like a suggestion, really.”

“Mm, convincing.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Namjoon shares his location with you, and, against your better judgement, you’re out the door within a couple of minutes. You let Yoongi know where you’ve gone, but, really, if Namjoon tries to kill you, he’ll get more than he bargained for.

You find Namjoon sitting on his own, quite peacefully, his skin illuminated by the green lights of the building beside him. He leans back, glancing at the sky before his eyes find you.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he laughs.

“Well,” you sigh, sitting down beside him, “I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Mm, couldn’t sleep.”

“No? Aren’t you tired?”

You chuckle. “Exhausted. But too much on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

You laugh, leaning towards him. “What, looking for me to share my deepest secrets with you already?”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “Would that be so bad?”

“Tell you what,” you start, “I’ll tell you something if you tell me something.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “You first.”

“I… hate the daytime.”

“That’s… so random,” he laughs.

You grin, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Look, don’t judge. In the daytime you gotta… you have to work and interact with people and… I always do my best work at night anyway.”

“Funny. I’m the same.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me something.”

Namjoon cocks his head, a smile growing on his face. “I really want to kiss you.”

You laugh, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “That’s not a secret!”

“Who said it had to be?”

“Namjoon!”

“What?”

He leans in close to you, a hand running up your thigh. His lips brush your cheek, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. You grip the hem of his jacket, expressing your need. He chuckles, and you can almost taste him on your lips. Almost.

“It’s nearly five in the morning, Namjoon,” you say, pulling away from him.

He shakes his head, a slight twinkle in his eye as he checks the time. “Want me to take you home?”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for that.”

“We’ve known each other nearly a month now.”

“And?”

“And you’ve been over countless times.”

“Meaning the power is still mine,” you laugh.

“I suppose it is,” Namjoon says, though he can’t help but think that he could find where you lived if he really wanted to. No, he would never invade your privacy like that. “Then why don’t you come over one more time?”

“Eh…”

“C’mon. You’re not gonna fall asleep if you go home anyway.”

“What, you can fix my insomnia?”

“Maybe,” he says with a smirk.

You stand up, holding out your hand for him. A shadow flickers in the corner of your eye, suddenly making you acutely aware of the men strategically placed around the area. You count one… two… four… ten… and probably more. Honestly, you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Yoongi has the same kind of security on him at all times.

“Well I could use a good night’s rest,” you say as he takes your hand. He rises leisurely, and the men begin rustling around, ready to follow him in a moment.

“Come on then.”

The two of you walk, hand in hand, through the city. You try to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling you have knowing you’re being followed, but it’s instinctual, and your hand is itching to grab the knife in your jacket.

“You seem fidgety,” Namjoon notes, aware of the way you squeeze his hand every so often out of habit.

“Oh. Little bit. Sorry.”

“Nervous?” he asks with a light laugh.

“You could say that,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be. I’ll keep you safe.”

Namjoon walks certainly through the city, unafraid of the shadows that lurk around the corner, knowing full well that he’s virtually untouchable. He thinks it’s cute how unaware you seem to be of this. Like you don’t realize just how safe you are by virtue of being with him.

Of course, he doesn’t realize that it’s not the shadows he should be afraid of; it’s the person clinging so adorably to his arm.

When you arrive at your destination, Namjoon is quick to usher you inside as a soft light illuminates the sky. The rising sun suddenly brings a wave of tiredness over you, causing a sleepy yawn to escape your lips.

“This is what happens when you stay out all night with strange men,” Namjoon laughs.

“The only strange men were the ones following us,” you mumble as you climb into Namjoon’s bed.

Namjoon stops. “You saw them.”

“Mm, they weren’t very stealthy,” you reply, wrapping yourself up in his sheets. “Come over here. I’m cold.”

He shakes his head in surprise and confusion. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Figured they were your security detail.”

He settles in beside you, wrapping you snugly under his arm. “Do you… know?”

“What? That you’re the head of Kim Incorporations? Yeah. Wasn’t that hard to figure out after our first date.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes into the pillow. “Oh. Of course.”

You turn your head slightly―just enough to place a small, soft peck on his cheek. “Sleep well,” you whisper.

Unlike you, Yoongi has no trouble sleeping. It’s one of his favorites pastimes, and he thinks it’s a damn shame that you don’t sleep well. So when he sees a text from you at 4:36 in the morning, he can’t say he’s all that surprised. What does surprise him, however, is the contents of the text.

Out with Namjoon. Probably safe. Most likely asleep when you see this. X.

“Y/N,” Yoongi groans as he gets out of bed. “Why do you always do this?”

He sighs, slight guilt creeping in on him because he knows very well that the things you do half the time are because of him. But then he remembers the time you stabbed him when he pissed you off and he doesn’t feel as bad about it.

“Morning, Boss,” Taehyung says as Yoongi walks into the kitchen.

Yoongi pauses, looking at his friend as he dissects what he really hopes isn’t anything human on the kitchen island. “Taehyung… what the fuck are you doing?”

Taehyung purses his lips, trying to find a good answer as he slowly puts his tweezers away. “You’ll be happier if I don’t tell you.”

“Great. But please get it off my table.”

“Done. Sorry.” Taehyung gives him a sheepish smile as he packs everything away before changing the topic. “Where’s Y/N? I thought she was gonna work today.”

“She is,” Yoongi says as he brews his coffee, “But not with us.”

“Namjoon?”

“Yep.”

“But she’s supposed to lead an interrogation today,” Taehyung whines.

“Jungkook can do it.”

“Jungkook can do what?” asks a tired voice.

“Lead the interrogation on the North Street dude.”

“What? Where’s Y/N?”

“Sucking a dick.”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi interjects, “don’t make me use those tweezers.”

“Sorry, Boss.”

“Why is she out with Namjoon?” asks Jungkook. “Wasn’t she supposed to be with us today?”

“Well, she was. But I guess she decided to do things her own way today.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“If anyone is anti-authoritarian, it’s Y/N.”

Jungkook slumps over the table, nearly falling asleep again. His words are muffled by his arms, and Yoongi has to lean over him to hear him properly. “Can I just beat the guy up?”

“I mean,” Yoongi laughs, “yeah. Can’t stop you. You’re in charge.”

“Good. Think I might waterboard him. But also I’m just super tired.”

“Don’t you dare knock him unconscious, Kook. I have shit to do, and I don’t need to be making sure he’s not dead or something,” scolds Taehyung.

Jungkook regards the elder with a mischievous grin. “I would do no such thing.”

“I’m serious!” Taehyung says, wagging a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” the younger replies with a wave of his hand. “I won’t kill him.”

“I’m―”

“Isn’t it too early for you two to be bickering already?” Yoongi huffs as he sits down.

“It’s never too early.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at his friends. He loves them, really, but sometimes he just really wants to slap them across the motherfucking face.

“So what’s on the agenda today, Boss?” Jungkook asks.

“Our biggest project rests in the hands of my dear sister, so more on that when she wakes up.”

“What, she’s not awake?”

“No, she slept over.”

“Oh,” Jungkook laughs.

“Don’t.”

He puts his hands up in defeat. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Yoongi grunts, “want you and Jin to go meet with that senator.”

“Nu?”

“Yeah. We’ve already got him, but he’s new to the game. Needs to know we’re in charge, you know? Just do what you always do. Make your presence known, and make sure he knows that we’re watching him.”

“You got it, Boss. Anything else?”

“None. Get to it.”

You awake midday to an empty bed. There’s hushed, aggressive whispering; something’s happening, and you’re not supposed to know about it.

Your feet are light on the ground as you sneak outside, careful not to make your presence known. They’re whispering, yes, but they’re heated, and the words resonate up the floor.

“So they’ve had it all this time?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, but we’re not sure how. We thought it was here all along.” You recognize that voice to be Hoseok’s.

“I thought so too. They must’ve been slick. Nipped it from me when I wasn’t paying attention that night at the hotel.”

“We had our suspicions, but they were confirmed today.”

“What exactly did you see?”

“The two of them―Jungkook and Jin―talking to Senator Nu. They definitely have him now. I think they were just laying low all this time, but it’s been a month and they’re adding Nu to their collection.”

“Was probably all cyber before,” Namjoon says. “Makes sense that it’s in person this time around.”

“I don’t like it,” Hoseok replies.

“Well I don’t either, obviously, but what can we do?”

“What about you, babe? You’ve been looking into this for a month now.”

“Yeah, and nothing to show for it,” Jimin says with an angry sigh. “I mean, seriously. Who the fuck is this girl? She’s literally a ghost.”

Shit.

“Still nothing?”

“No one will talk about her. Whoever she is, the Mins are terrified of her.”

“Or maybe they’re terrified of whoever’s protecting her,” Hoseok suggests.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, say, if she’s got some direct relation to the inner-circle like we think, talking about her could result in a slap straight from Yoongi himself.”

“How are we supposed to find out about a woman that doesn’t exist?”

Namjoon groans loudly, frustrated with the whole situation. “I swear to god I’m going to kill Min Yoongi one day!”

“Maybe find the ghost, and that’ll get Yoongi.”

“Yes, yes, that’s wonderful Hoseok,” Jimin growls, “but again, how the fuck are we supposed to find a woman that doesn’t exist?”

“Something’s just not adding up. It’s not―”

“Namjoon?” you call, interrupting their conversation before they can conspire anymore.

“Drop it all,” Namjoon commands, and immediately the conversation slips into a heavy political discussion.  

You feign sleepiness as you descend the stairs, even though your brain is working at a hundred miles a minute.

They’re looking for you? How did they even know? What contacts did they have? And now they have tails on Jungkook and Jin? Did they know? Of course they knew; Jungkook and Jin weren’t stupid.

Jimin is somewhat of an information expert, it looks like. All this time everyone’s been thinking he’s a crazy hitman. Maybe he just plays his part well. He knows too much already. You would have to work faster now. You’d have to find the Kim Clan’s fatal flaw before they discovered who you were. It’s a race against the clock.

“Sleep well?” Namjoon asks, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. Haven’t slept that well in a while.” And it’s true.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Hoseok,” says the tall man standing beside Namjoon. He extends a friendly arm to you, and you introduce yourself.

“Y/N.” You can see scar markings poking out from under his sleeve, and you’re suddenly aware of the scabs on the back of his hand. “Sorry, uh, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I’m nothing special. Just an accountant.”

“And your hobbies?” Hoseok pauses for a moment, looking at you with trepidation. “Sorry,” you laugh, “I just couldn’t help but notice the marks on your hand.”

He pulls away from you instantly, holding his hand behind his back. He would never show it, but you definitely creep him out. “I, uh―”

“He’s really clumsy. Falls a lot,” interjects Jimin. “Hi, I’m Jimin.”

“Hi,” you say sweetly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you.”

“Hoseok and Jimin are over a lot. They’re my two closest friends,” Namjoon explains.

“Oh, that’s nice. I guess I’ll be seeing more of the both of you then.”

“I guess so,” answers Jimin. “But we’ll leave you to it.  We really should get going.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I hope to see you soon though.”

“That’d be great. Maybe we can all have dinner together, yeah?”

“Yeah!” you reply enthusiastically. “What do you say Namjoon?”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“Well then,” says Jimin. “We best be off. See you!”

Jimin grabs his boyfriend’s hand roughly and leads him out of the house as if they were being chased.

“Does she creep you out?” asks Hoseok.

“Yes,” Jimin says. “It’s super weird. Like, she’s really nice. But, like, I felt like she knew exactly who I was.”

Hoseok huffs in relief. “So I’m not crazy. I felt like she was staring into my fucking soul.”

“I know! That was so weird!”

“Honestly, let’s be real though. That’s the kind of weird that suits Namjoon perfectly.”

“You’re right. I guess crazy bastards attract crazy bastards.”

“Worked for us, didn’t it?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Namjoon complains as he watches you put your shoes on. “C’mon, you’ve hardly been here.”

“Yes, but I’ve been out all day and I have stuff to do.”

“Like me?”

“I said ‘stuff,’ not ‘people,’” you laugh.

“How about you do the people then the stuff?” he suggests as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. He leans towards you. “We could stay in bed all day.”

“We stayed in bed most of the day,” you protest.

“Yes but we’d be awake,” he replies with a grin. His lips graze your neck, his breath causing you to shudder in his arms.

“I’m not going to get anything done and it’s going to be all your fault.”

“Oh but we would have so much fun,” he taunts. He pushes your back against the wall, his lips only centimeters away from yours, just begging you to close the distance.

“You know, you’re normally supposed to open the doors for people. Not trap them against it.”

“Ah, you’re telling me you wouldn’t rather this?”

“Mm, tempting,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him the slightest bit closer.

He sighs into you, tempted by everything. He just wants to have his way. Forget his frustrations. Have you wrapped around his dick before you’re wrapped up in his arms. It’s only been a month, but you’ve got a certain way about you.

“Tempting enough to get you to stay?”

“Not quite.”

“Damn.”

“Surely you’ve got someone you can call up?” you laugh. Namjoon releases you immediately, frowning in displeasure.

“Do you have people you call up?”

“Mm, not at the moment.”

“You should keep it that way.”

“What?”

“Be with me,” he says as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

“Be with you? As in just you?”

“As in just me.”

“There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”

“We can find out together, yeah?”

You pause. This could be good. Him developing an emotional attachment to you means that your job just became twenty times easier. But there’s also the very real possibility of your own vulnerability. After all, you are human. Could you resist that? Could you get in, get out, and get the job done?

Anyone who works in our field knows one thing and one thing only: the mission. Don’t get attached, or you’ll fuck it up. You hear me? Don’t disappoint me.

You could do it. You would never disappoint.

“So does this mean I get to call you my boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon replies giddily. “I guess so.”

“Perfect. Now, my dearest boyfriend, I really do have to go.”

“Are you sure?” he whines.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Do I at least get a kiss?”

“Well…”

“Please?”

You roll your eyes at him playfully before stepping up to him and finally, finally laying your lips on his. He sighs deeply, bringing your body fully against him.

“Finally,” he murmurs, pushing you back against the door. You hit it with a thud, but you could care less in the moment.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, and the kiss becomes, loud, wet, messy, and leaving you desperate for more.

But you have a job to do.

You pull away from him, struggling to regain your composure as he does the same. A laugh escapes your lips at just how beautifully wrecked he is. He’s such a powerful man. He could have anything and anyone at anytime with just the snap of his fingers. He was born, raised, and will die powerful. In control.

But with you, it’s the exact opposite. He crumbles. He whines. He wants. And that gives the all the power to you.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you say, kissing him briefly.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll see you later.”

You’re out the door within seconds, leaving Namjoon a mix of emotions, but his brain is concentrated on one thought and one thought only: you.

“I’m back!” you shout, dropping your keys on the counter.

For a second there’s not so much as a sound, and then everything comes alive at once. Four faces appear in front of you, eager to hear your report.

“And?” questions Yoongi immediately.

“What, not even a hello?”

“Yes. Hi. Hello. Updates.”

“You’re such an asshole, Yoongi,” you groan, falling on the couch in exhaustion.

“Yeah yeah. I know. C’mon.”

“Oh, my god. Can’t I at least get a water?”

Your brother stares at you, and you can tell that he’s this close to wringing your neck. “Taehyung,” says Yoongi, “would you be so kind as to get some water for our queen?”

“Anything for her highness,” Taehyung answers, bowing dramatically.

“Now please―”

“Don’t start without me!”

Taehyung rushes back, throwing a water bottle at you before you open your mouth.

“I really hate you guys, you know?”

“We know,” they say in unison.

You roll your eyes. “Anyway, they’ve had an eye on Jungkook and Jin.”

“Yeah, we know. Found them snooping around us today when we were talking to the senator. They got away before I could kick his ass,” Jungkook says angrily. “I just polished my knife and everything.”

“Maybe next time, Kookie. Most interesting, though, is Jimin.”

“Their hitman?”

“Well, so we thought. He’s crazy, yes, but an actor. And a damn good one. He’s the one that gets all their information for them. He’s the head of all of their connections. And I mean all of them.”

“What entails all?”

“They’re looking for me.”

“They’re―what?”

“Yeah. Me. They know I exist.”

Jin looks at you like you’re insane. “There’s literally no way. No way!”

“Yeah. I don’t know how or from who, but they know. They know there’s a ‘ghost’ that has influence in the top, and if they find me before I can finish my job with Namjoon, then it’s over for me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi warns, “this means you have to be extremely careful from here on out. If they discover who you are, they will kill you. And we’ll be able to do nothing about it.”

“I know, Yoongi. I guess it’s a matter of who gets to the end first.”

“So, you’ve gotta find something absolutely lethal before they find out who you are?” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yep, sounds about right.”

“Wonderful. Really. Anything else?”

“Uh… I’m officially Namjoon’s girlfriend.”

Yoongi grimaces. “Fine. If it’ll get the job done.”

“Hey, that’s my girl!” Taehyung praises.

Yoongi stands, ready to occupy his time with anything other than the thought of his sister dating his rival. “Good work, Y/N.”

“Thanks, big brother.”

“Just…”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

[qvestchen]

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Summary: It was really laughable. The idea that Jeon Wonwoo had a nemesis. And yet there it was. The clear proof that all his life, like a nagging dull ache, Kwon Soonyoung had stepped all over his plans without ever really acknowledging him.

And maybe it was wrong for Wonwoo to seek him out but all he wanted was answers at first. He had never imagined they would stand opposite each other, fingers on triggers, his death in his nemesis’s hands and vice-versa.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Ongoing

Chapters: Home, Previous, Next.

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Chapter 1:  It was a surrealist meme

Wonwoo looked at the schedule in his hand and scanned the corridor. His eyes found Room No. 67 and he walked to the glass doors with only a slight urgency of purpose being betrayed in his quick steps. He cursed under his breath as the door swung outside nearly crashing against his face. Whoever it was, didn't even see him, choosing instead to continue on their way without a care in the world, happily talking on the phone.

He slunk into the department room, nodding to the man sitting on the small desk that served as a reception counter. "I have come to register myself for the 3 p.m. 'Introduction to Persian Language and Culture' course." He placed a copy of his college ID and registration form on the desk.

"The course is closed," the man responded without even looking up from computer screen.

"But—" Wonwoo began.

The man threw a sheet towards him. "The last spot just got filled."

Wonwoo made a face, eyes dully scanning the sheet. His eyes stopped at the last name, widening in recognition.

Kwon Soonyoung.

His gaze flitted to the doorway. He asked, "Wait, the person who signed...t-this Kwon Soonyoung...was he the one who just left?"

The receptionist looked at him with a grimace. "Yes, and he was damn polite unlike you. Now, can I get my work do—?"

But Wonwoo was already rushing out of the small, air-conditioned room. His footsteps rang across the empty corridor. He looked right and left and followed a flight of stairs down and found himself in the ringing din of the English and Chinese language departments, a sharp contrast to the dusty, quiet floor above. People brushed past, someone knocking against his shoulder while he wildly looked for a sign, anything that he could zero in and recognize, something for him to pin the mystery of his life with.

The scattered conversations crawled at the nape of his neck as he strained to catch the words.

--I didn't mean to—Have you seen—wait up, you f—I can't believe I'm still—Shakespeare probably didn't even—she doesn't love me—are you free on—I flunked Chinese last time so—there can only be—save me from Proffess—which elective are—do you think the comeback—bro, the course is overflowing—are you coming to the party on Friday—we should start making the club flyers th—

"Wonwoo? Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo turned around realizing the weight of a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you really spacing out in the corridor?"

Wonwoo made a face at his friend. "What are you doing here, Mingyu?"

"I came to sign up for my Literature elective but what are you doing here?" the other boy asked, all smiles and mischievous eyes.

"I came to sign up for my Persian elective," Wonwoo said, gesturing Mingyu to walk beside him.

Mingyu laughed his characteristic barking laugh and Wonwoo could see a couple of students stop and stare with intrigue in their eyes. This happened a lot when he was with his friend. Kim Mingyu excited interest everywhere he went. His tall frame and impeccable fashion made him stick out but his warm smile and constant chatter made him endearing. Everyone wanted to befriend him. Many wanted to date him and would have no doubt tried to make a move but since Mingyu mostly hung out with Wonwoo and his snarky aura, Mingyu was bordering on unapproachable.

"That's on the floor above," Mingyu said, still laughing. "I can't believe you've spent a semester here and yet behave like you know nothing."

"I went there. The registrations are full so it was a bummer and then I..." He trailed off, looking around one last time.

"And you decided to come find me? Aww, I knew you had a thing for me." Mingyu joked, eyes twinkling. "But, sorry, Wonwoo, I don't have any plans for a relationship right now. You know how tough it is for college-going people—Ouch, don't hit me!"

"I wish we hadn't met last semester. I can't seem to get rid of you," Wonwoo said, pushing him with his shoulder.

Mingyu grinned. He knew his words didn't have any bite. They were best of friends and even though people always felt Mingyu was never in shortage of friends, it was him who depended on Wonwoo more. He was grateful for their little circle of friends.

Wonwoo added a bit wistfully. "I thought I saw someone."

"Oh, wait a sec, this is my department. I'll drop in and be back. Wait for me."

Wonwoo nodded, taking out his Nintendo and was about to log on to a game when his phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Seokmin.

Pizzamin: Hey, come to the cafeteria asap

If you spot Mingyu or Minghao, get them too

They never reply to the gc

A very small smile made its way across Wonwoo's features. He began to reply.

Wonwoollen: It's because you and Seungkwan spam the gc with weird stuff

Pizzamin: They're memes

Wonwoollen: It was an hour long video of just you saying "are you ready" and Seungkwan replying "I'm ready" last night

Pizzamin: It was a surrealist meme

The drama club president Hoshi loved it

Hoshi is cool, he helped make it

Hoshi. It was a new name but Wonwoo had already heard it repeatedly in glowing terms on a frequent basis at their cafeteria table ever since the new semester had started. Some 'angel' had descended on to the nearly defunct drama club last semester and over the course of the semester transformed it into one of the top clubs in the university this semester. Seokmin and Seungkwan who had just joined the club, now idolized the said 'angel'.

Pizzamin: Anyway, get everyone

I made a new friend

You all should meet him and make him feel welcome

Wonwoo couldn't resist an eye-roll. As much as he adored his friends, Seokmin had a habit of making a new friend every now and then and Wonwoo who was comfortable with sitting alone, found their friends circle increasing at an alarming rate. When he had come to the university last semester, he had totally imagined himself being a certified loner who could just sit back and watch life unfold in front him. Instead, he got adopted by Mingyu and Seokmin.

Wonwoollen: I'll bring Mingyu

Pizzamin: Hansol found Minghao so be here quick

Also, buy me a music notebook from the store since it's on the way

Mingyu emerged from the office, smiling, slightly red, and stuffing a small chit of paper in his pocket.

It was now Wonwoo's turn to tease. "Let me guess, someone gave you their number?"

Mingyu blushed harder. "It's not what you're thinking. She said just in case I find the elective tough later."

"Yeah, right."

"So," Mingyu said, changing the subject, "whom did you see? Was it someone pretty?"

"No, no. It was just...someone...I don't know, I thought it was someone I keep meeting but not really meeting. It's weird."

Mingyu looked at him shrewdly. "Wonwoo, I think you have a crush. It happens to the best of us. You needn't be shy about it. Minghao and I, we can help you with the wardrobe and Seokmin can give you some nice jokes so your dark personality doesn't come to the fore."

Wonwoo scoffed. "Thanks, but it's not a crush and I love my personality the way it is."

"Sure, whatever you say."

They bickered all the way till the cafeteria, even making a stop for Seokmin's precious notebook collection, where they were hailed by their friends.

Seungkwan shouted. "Last one to the table has to buy cupcakes for everyone."

It was totally stupid and there was no need to race across the cafeteria for those tasteless cupcakes but Wonwoo found himself laughing aloud as he pushed Mingyu sideways and ran forward. Their friends cheered for them. Moments like these he totally forgot the little puzzle in his brain, the strange feeling that there was someone out there whom he kept meeting but only side-stepping, he forgot his fears, he forgot details of this other person he didn't remember in full—the back of the head, the swing of the shoulder, a fraction of a cheek, the turn of the ears, the confident walk, the angle of the shoulders and that one time he had seen a quarter of a smile—he forgot all these little incomplete bits of the puzzle, he even forgot momentarily the name he tried to never forgot. Kwon Soonyoung. Whoever he might be, wherever he might be. Wonwoo didn't care. He didn't want to see the big picture. He just wanted to go on living this simple life where he was racing Mingyu to get out of buying some cupcakes.

He laughed at Mingyu who clutched his side, grumbling and coming in last.

Seokmin called their attention after everyone sat down on the table. "Alright, alright, now that we have shown our worst side, here is my new friend Yoon Jeonghan. He's a History major, just like you Wonwoo."

Wonwoo's heart was thundering after the run to the table but as he looked back at Yoon Jeonghan and his easy, lazy smile, he felt a cold hand clutch at his throat. His eyes never left the newcomer who introduced himself to everyone in a comfortable, suave manner.

Jeonghan had blonde hair that was brushed immaculately in place, every strand glittering with every movement of his head. His eyes were lazy and then suddenly watchful and a slight smirk never left his sharp, angular face. He looked at you as if he knew everything about you, as if he knew you better than you yourself, and Wonwoo who led a quiet, private life felt unnerved.

"Absolutely lovely to meet you, Wonwoo. I look forward to studying History with you. I hope we can be the best of friends," Jeonghan said, his tone affectionate and sinister at the same time, as if they had known each other since ages.

Wonwoo's hands were clammy in the handshake and he wordlessly nodded, trying to retract his hand.

Thankfully, Minghao intervened. "Wonwoo's a bit shy around strangers."

"Oh," Jeonghan said and withdrew from the handshake. "I'm sorry. I can be quite awkward myself."

"It's alright," Wonwoo replied, feeling a bit embarrassed at already judging the newcomer who seemed genuinely apologetic. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Talking about strangers," Seokmin said. "I think someone has a crush on our Wonwoo."

"Oh, you have to hear this," Hansol said.

Seokmin said, "The two of us were just sitting here and discussing our electives and Hansol happened to mention that you decided to go for not-so-popular Intro to Persian because it's really easy and scoring and not many people turn up for it and—" He started laughing.

"And," Hansol continued, with a smile, "this guy on the table beside us literally screamed WHAT and fell out of his chair. Seokmin here goes, 'Oh our friend, Wonwoo, went to sign up for the Persian elective because it's easy' but the man just bolted. He probably wanted to be in your class real bad. People these days."

"No way," Mingyu said, laughing now too.

"Shut up," Wonwoo said, making an unimpressed face. "You're making this up."

"Who was it?" Seungkwan asked, totally interested. "This is amazing."

Seokmin looked around the cafeteria. "He hangs around our table a lot. I'm sure you've seen him—Oh, there he is. His name is...uh, Joshua, I think? Yeah, he's Joshua."

Later, it was with stubborn determination that Wonwoo would explain to everyone that he had only looked out of pure human curiosity, the kind that makes people look up when an airplane flies by and nothing more.

Joshua Hong entered the cafeteria looking frantically around as if he had lost something important.

The fact that their whole table was looking at him was enough to alert him to their gaze. Wonwoo (out of pure human curiosity) watched with an expressionless face as Joshua's eyes widened as he caught sight of something beyond Wonwoo. Wonwoo turned around to see what it was and it surprised him when he saw that it was Jeonghan and Joshua in a staring contest. The rest of the table needn't have existed.

Jeonghan didn't drop his gaze and raised an eyebrow as if in a challenge. Whatever it was, Joshua seemed to understand. He turned around and left the cafeteria.

Opposite Wonwoo, Minghao had caught the strange interaction too. Both of them looked away quickly, knowing that it was something they would discuss later.

"Well, that was weird. I'm going to go to my room and finish the last level of my game. Get me a cupcake, Mingyu," Wonwoo said with a yawn.

Jeonghan raised a hand, putting his phone to his ear. "Just a sec. This is important," he said to everyone. He spoke into the phone, "Hello, Soonyoung?"

hello! this is our first seventeen story on here :)

hope you'll enjoy it. please keep on supporting this fic, soonwoo and svt  xx 

[galli-writes]

Anything at All    

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

(Click here to listen to the podfic!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! I have returned after 5 months to finish what I've started because I love this fic too much to abandon it. Expect updates to be much more regular. And this time I mean it! 

Chapter 3: The Letter ( words: 4,711 )

4:23 a.m.

The red numbers on his alarm clock seemed to stare back at Beast Boy with an unflinching glare. Like an animal that mocked him simply by existing. Beyond the window, a yellow glow seeped through the tightly drawn blinds.With a grunt, he rubbed his eyes and flipped over face first onto his pillow. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness hours ago.

By all accounts, he was exhausted . Every muscle in his body ached. His head continued to pound like a battering ram against a stone wall hours after the fight was over. The only thing worse than being electrocuted (three times) was the grueling pain the shocks had left in their wake. By now, he’d lost count of how much Advil he’d taken. It was probably safe to say ‘too much’.

But the burning in his muscles and the city lights creeping in through his window weren’t what kept him awake. Not really.

The problem was that, every time he did skirt the edge of sleep, it started all over again.

Goosebumps prickled on his arms at the mere thought of it. The cold tile on his skin. The muffled voices of his friends in the distance, even more distorted in his memory. When he closed his eyes, he saw the same darkness he’d retreated to only hours before. Even now he found himself instinctively holding his breath.

The culprits had escaped, and he knew it had been (at least partially) his fault. He was sure Robin was disappointed in him. Maybe even annoyed. But that hadn’t been his biggest mistake of the night. Not by a long shot.

Beast Boy flipped over again, unable to lie still as the scene played before him. He shut his eyes tighter, rubbing his hands over his face. But the increasing darkness only made things more real. Even lying completely still, he easily felt the ghostly traces of someone’s fingers on his neck. He threw the sheets back from around his face. They suddenly felt like spiders crawling all over him.

But above all, he couldn’t tune out her voice, echoing in his ears.

‘ Not everything is a joke. And one day you’re gonna learn that the hard way. ’

Beast Boy flinched. He rolled over. Pulled the sheets up again, and turned the clock the other direction. But it was no use.

He bit his lip, staring at the ceiling.

He didn’t think everything was a joke. Of course he didn’t.

He just acted like it sometimes.

He bit his lip harder, exhaling a deep, wavering sigh.

Was there a difference?

Flooded with shame, he tried his best to disappear. And somehow, pulling the sheets up all the way over his head was oddly convincing. He closed  his eyes once more, now that he felt he’d finally escaped from the reality of what he’d done--if only for the night. Under the sheets it was warm and stuffy--just enough so to lull him into a still, dreamless sleep.

***

“Rise and shine!”

Cyborg’s voice echoed under the metal door, traveling in waves.

Beast Boy’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright in bed. At the other end of the room, a bright white light glowed behind the blackout curtains.

“It’s waffle time, baby!” The voice rang out again, this time bouncing off the walls as it carried toward the kitchen.

Beast Boy rubbed his eyes, still finding it difficult to open them completely. When he finally did, he saw that the clock read 10:34 a.m.

With a groan, he ran his hands over his face once more. The inside of his head spun like a broken rattle, clamoring with leftover thoughts and emotions he couldn’t parse out. All in all, he felt regrettably similar to the fateful morning he’d discovered he was the definition of a lightweight.

With all of the energy he could muster, he rolled out of bed and rummaged the floor to find a stray T-shirt to throw on. As he pulled the shirt over his head however, one of the puzzle pieces unveiled itself. His arm ached. Bad . And then he remembered why.

The door clicked open as he exited his room, eyes barely open. A hand instinctively flew to his face to shield his eyes from the piercing light that flooded in through the main window down the hall. He trudged into the kitchen, each step more taxing than the last. When he finally made it to the threshold, he caught a glimpse of a bedheaded Robin manning the waffle iron and Cyborg pouring himself a glass of orange juice. At the far end of the room, in her usual spot, Raven sat reading a book, a cup of tea hovering beside her. The sight of her made him flinch for a moment, as images of last night came rushing back to him. He tried, and failed, to ignore them.

The only person missing from the room was Starfire. Beast Boy blinked hard, rubbing his temple at the realization. Starfire missing on a Sunday morning could only mean one thing.

“ALLRRRRRIIIGHT,” Cyborg bellowed, setting his glass down on the coffee table with an enthusiastic thud. In his other hand, he waved around a few sheets of paper. “Who’s ready to DUNGEON SOME DRAGONS?” he hollered, like he was orchestrating a high school pep rally. When no one responded, he looked over expectantly at Raven.

“Uh...go team?” she said, in an equally unenthusiastic tone.

“Okay, I know you’re into this shit deep Rae, don’t even try it,” he said with a half smile. “The rest of y’all better’ve actually updated your character sheets this time,” he said with a smirk, now looking at Beast Boy.

Beast Boy froze, a lump in his throat. Not because of Cyborg’s joking glare, but because he locked eyes with Raven, who had also now turned to look at him. There wasn’t anything particularly threatening about her gaze in that moment, but Beast Boy still found it hard to meet.

“I, uh...,” he squirmed, trying very hard to look at Cyborg and only Cyborg as he said it. When that didn’t work he just stared at the ground. “I--I’ll be right back.” With a sheepish grin, he spun on his heels and retreated directly back the way he’d come.

With the door to his room shut firmly behind him, Beast Boy closed his eyes, hoping it would keep the room from spinning any more than it already was. But he was starting to think that the sleep deprivation wasn’t the only reason he suddenly felt nauseous. He peeled himself off the back of the door and slunk into the chair at his desk, shaking his head. He just needed to set his mind straight.

Red and green lights flashed in the cracks between his fingers as he booted up his computer, and the whirl of a fan began to take up some of the deafening silence. When the lights were replaced with a single steady glow he opened his eyes fully, fought the urge to slap himself, and opened several documents on the desktop.

First he scanned over his character sheet, updating the stats he already knew how to calculate. His current character was a half-elf bard named Tangus. You could have snapped him like a toothpick, but the guy was oozing with charisma, and as far as Beast Boy was concerned, that was what really mattered.The best kind of characters were the ones who could talk their way into or out of anything. Characters that were smooth and funny--charming, romantic, and likable. Characters who always knew just what to say.

He paused, then frowned at the thought. Maybe he was compensating for something.

Shaking his head, Beast Boy turned to one of the many other windows he’d pulled up--a spell database he referred to often. He was busy mulling around the idea of picking up another healing spell when he was suddenly interrupted by the chime of a notification from his computer.

He figured it had to be one of his friends yelling at him to hurry up. But when he searched around for the origin of sound, he found no new messages on discord or any of the other messaging apps he frequented. What he did find, buried under three layers of abandoned tabs was a sign of life radiating from his Facebook notification bar. Beast Boy narrowed his eyes at it. Facebook was buried that far back for a reason. After all, it was more of a publicity page than anything else. He didn’t have much of an alter ego, so keeping up a personal one was kind of a moot point.  

He had two new friend requests.

One of them he recognized right away. It was the friend request he’d gotten from Cold Stone two months prior that he’d never accepted just on principle. He sighed, almost a little disappointed.

But the second one--the more recent one-- did catch his eye.

It also looked very much like spam. The man in the profile picture looked a little too well put together. Almost like a stock photo. He had olive skin and dark hair that was slicked back cinematically. He brandished a full, welcoming smile. Like a dentist trying to promote himself and advertise his services at the same time.

Next to it Beast Boy read the name ‘Nicholas Galtry’.

He sat back in his chair.

For a reason he couldn’t place, the name felt...familiar. As if he’d encountered it once in a dream or in a movie he’d watched a long time ago.

He looked closer, clicking on the picture. Whoever it was, they had no mutual friends between them, and when he tried to investigate the man’s profile further, he only found one more hazy picture very similar to the first.

Once more, Beast Boy leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen. A weird friend request wasn’t really that much to worry about—usually. But something about the man’s face sat wrong with Beast Boy.

“Beast Boy? You ready?” Robin’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Uh...Yeah, coming!” he yelled back, quickly closing the tab and toggling back to his character sheet and clicking print. He swiped the papers out of the printer and ran back down the hallway into the main room.

Everyone was sitting in their claimed spots around the table—again, everyone except Starfire. Robin was just now making his way to the table with some pancakes. From the couch, Raven watched intently as Cyborg focused every ounce of his attention on the dice tower he was building.

No later than the second it came crashing down, Starfire burst into the room.

“Hello, friends!” she exclaimed, flying over to her spot at the head of the table. “I’m sorry I am late. But during my preparations for our game of dragons in dungeons I encountered the most interesting of objects.”

Everyone turned their attention to her--even Beast Boy, who hadn’t yet made it to the other side of the room. It was hard to not stop and stare at the thick ivory envelope she brandished above her head. In the center of it was a bright red wax stamp, like something plucked from a period drama.

“What is it?” Robin and Cyborg said in unison.

Starfire lowered the envelope and looked down at it, confusion in her face. “I am not sure. While I was taking the silkie out for a walk this morning, I noticed someone approaching our neglected box of postage,” she continued. “The stranger left it within and quickly vanished.”

Robin pouted, extending out a hand. “Mind if I take a look?”

With a nod, Starfire handed it over to him.  

He studied it for a moment, looking the envelope over back to front. Then he merely shrugged, handing it back to her. “I dunno. Looks like they probably had the wrong address.”

“We live in a giant T,” Cyborg said. “How do you mess something like that up?”

“Cyborg makes the good point,” Starfire said, taking the envelope back and holding it up to the light. She squinted at it as if doing so might reveal its true purpose. “I do not recognize any of these names. If they are names.” She squinted even harder.

“Lemme see that,” Cyborg said, extending out a hand. After reading the front of the envelope for himself, his face morphed from confusion to pure amusement. “Damn,” he laughed under his breath. “I feel bad for whoever this was supposed to go to. What a fucking name,” he said, handing the letter to Raven as it naturally began to make its rounds.

Once in her possession, Raven flipped the letter over in her hand, running her finger over the intricate seal on the back. She stared at it for a moment, eyes narrowed. Though that didn’t betray much, considering that her default expression always lingered somewhere between disinterest and disapproval.

Beast Boy found that in those few short moments he had inched his way decidedly into the room, as if drawn in by a magnetic force. He didn’t even realize that he had crept up behind her and had started to even lean forward to try and catch a glimpse over her shoulder until, as if on cue, she yanked it away and held it just out of his reach.

“Hey, lemme--” Beast Boy began to protest.

Raven narrowed her eyes again without saying anything, looking down at the envelope again.

A sly smile crept onto Beast Boy’s face. For a moment, he forgot why he had ever been so hesitant to enter the room. The scene felt so familiar.

In the span of a second, the letter was in his talons, Raven muttering a curse under her breath. When his feet hit the kitchen floor, Beast Boy had to stifle a snicker. He turned just in time to catch Raven shooting him her middle finger. And oddly enough, he breathed a sigh of relief at the gesture.

The relief didn’t last long.  

The moment Beast Boy flipped the letter over to its front, he froze. His eyes scanned over it a second time--a third and fourth. But the words on the front didn’t change. His heart rate did.  

“You okay, man?” Cyborg called to him over his shoulder, surrounded by the curious gaze of the rest of his friends.

Beast Boy quickly whipped around, dropping the letter in front of him and hastily picking it back up, pressing it to his chest. “Fine! I’m...fine.”

Starfire gaped. “Do you perhaps know who it is for?”

“No--I...I just--” He stammered. But before he knew it, Starfire was hovering over him, eyes transfixed on the envelope.

“I must ask,” she continued, completely disregarding his answer. “What is a ‘Gar’, and what may be the purpose of cultivating them in a field?”

“It’s just a name, Star,” Robin interjected.

“A terrible one,” Raven said, to no one in particular.

But to Beast Boy, the statement had felt unnervingly personal.

“Gar...field?” Starfire repeated again, testing the two sounds together as one.

Beast Boy stood silent, hoping his silence would go unnoticed.

It didn’t.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cyborg asked again, leaning over and raising an eyebrow at him.  

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a...moment,” Beast Boy said, forcing a laugh. Doing so made his stomach turn. “Guess my brain tripped the off switch for a sec,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll just drop it in the junk drawer for now,” Robin said, waving his hand dismissively and beckoning the two back over to the table.

“Yeah...” Beast Boy said again, placing the letter face down in the top drawer and sliding it firmly shut.

***

As much as Beast Boy had hoped it would, the pit in his stomach didn’t go away.

During training that afternoon, he had literally transformed into a fish out of water...twice. After lunch, he had consistently lost to Cyborg and Robin in Mario Kart, Smash, and every other game on the shelf. His two friends had even managed to bully Raven into playing, and losing to the worst player in the household (twice) had ultimately sealed his fate. In frustration, he’d resorted to watching the third season of The Office for the seventh time from the safety of his room. When that didn’t work, he switched to Vines. So many Vines. Too many Vines. And yet somehow not enough. Later that night, as he’d shuffled some tofu in a pan on the stove, he caught himself glancing over at the corner drawer every few minutes. Unable to shake the feeling of thick cardstock in this hand, he mindlessly dumped a fistful of soaking wet soy squares into the pan before him, showering himself with droplets of hot oil.

As he yelled out in surprise, there was a laugh from the other end of the room as Cyborg made a joke about the bathroom mirror Beast Boy had clumsily knocked over a few days ago.

“Seven years is a long time, man,” Cyborg laughed.

Beast Boy frowned. For once, he would have gladly attributed today’s mishaps to something as simple as bad luck.

In the darkness, the thoughts only got worse. Now that he’d had ample time to ruminate on who the letter had been addressed to, he shifted his focus to what the letter itself could actually have to say. Every thought that passed through his mind made him shiver, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight it. So he kept them all in equal circulation with a sort of morbid, torturing fixation.

Finally, he leaned over and grabbed the clock off his nightstand.

3:23 am.

He shoved it back into place and stared at the blank ceiling above him. Then he kicked off the covers and got out of bed.

Opening the huge metal door to his bedroom silently was virtually impossible, but Beast Boy managed to get through with just one shrill squeak. Before him, the hallway was completely dark and still. He pulled out his phone and switched on the flashlight, carefully navigating the short walk to the kitchen. In the main living area moonlight illuminated the hollow room with a lifeless glow.

Pausing between every step, Beast Boy made his way over to the fateful drawer and reached out a hand to open it. He bit his lip as he weighed the pros and cons of what he was about to do. A small voice in the back of his head screamed out, telling him to go back while he still could. This voice of course didn’t have any more of an idea of what the envelope contained than he did. But it at least had the sense to know that opening anything address to...well, Garfield...was asking for trouble.

But while his mind hadn’t yet finished arguing with itself, his body had already made up its mind. One minute his hand was on the drawer handle and the next it wasn’t. One minute his hand had been empty. The next, he found himself rubbing his thumb against the wax seal over and over, as if to test its reality.

He took a deep break and closed his eyes. This time he moved his thumb under the seal instead of over it, the sound of paper ripping ever so gently under...

“Beast Boy!”

Beast Boy’s gaze shot up as he instinctively clenched the letter tighter. Two glowing green eyes met his own from the other side of the room. He froze instantly.

The shadowy figure blinked several times before, with a short gust of wind, it came to a dramatic halt a foot from his face. Decked out in a robe, face smeared with some sort of expensive looking cream, and her hair tied up in a messy bun, Starfire stared down at him disapprovingly

“I was--I’m just--” Beast Boy fumbled.

“Just what?” She whisper-screamed, yanking the envelope out of his hand and wagging it around in the air. “Opening the mail that is not belonging to you is illegal!”

Beast Boy threw his hands in the air and took a step back. “I know, I know. I’m...sorry.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Starfire said, shaking her head.

“Sorry...I just...I didn’t think anyone else was awake,” Beast Boy replied, realizing that the response didn’t exactly prove him any more innocent. He looked Starfire up and down again, trying to gauge how likely it was that she would tell Robin about this. But it was hard to take the disappointment in her face seriously behind all of the beauty products and the towel wrapped around her head. “What are you doing in the kitchen at 3:30 in the morning anyway?” he asked in a desperate attempt to change the conversation.

“I am here to obtain a smoothie before I partake in my morning routine of the blogilates,” Starfire said, arms crossed. She shot him a suspicious look—like the kind that seemed permanently glued to Raven’s face—but it was too comical to take seriously. “I would ask you the same question, but it would seem you have already demonstrated the answer.”

Beast Boy sighed and looked at the floor. He couldn’t meet Starfire’s eyes. “Sorry. I know this looks bad. I just...I really didn’t wanna have to…”

“Have to what?” Starfire questioned.

Beast Boy hesitated. He took a deep breath and managed to get it out in one sentence. “I didn’t wanna have to tell anyone.” He quickly shot her a knowing look, then glanced back off to the side again.

Starfire was silent for a moment.

Even though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, Beast Boy knew she was staring at him. After a moment her shoulders fell slack. Her jaw dropped, both hands flying to her mouth. She lowered them slowly just enough to speak and, after a minute, whispered, “Do not tell me... you are the Gar of Fields?”

An embarrassed half-smile crept onto Beast Boy’s face. “Kind of. I mean...I guess I am...or was. At least at one point in my life.”

There was a pause. And then Starfire’s expression did a complete 180. She gasped again, but this time with pure amazement--and Beast Boy wasn’t sure he liked this reaction any better.

“Oh, wonderful!” Starfire beamed, her eyes aglow in an entirely different light.

“It...is?” Beast Boy said, feeling a pit forming in his stomach again.

“Of course!” Starfire continued. “It must be that someone from your past is trying to contact you and inquire as to your well being,” she mused, a finger at her lips. “Perhaps it is a relative who wishes to hear of all of your daring heroic exploits? Or a childhood friend who has searched far and wide for you so that they may disclose their true feelings for you! Or a long lost sibling who yearns to be reunited with the brother they’ve never known?”

“Uh...I don’t know about all that,” Beast Boy said uneasily, still reeling from the emotional whiplash of their short conversation.

“Nonsense,” Starfire said, her voice growing more and more above a whisper with every word. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and began to pull. “Come! We must rouse  everyone and tell them of the news!”

“Star, no, hold up a sec,” Beast Boy said, grabbing at his wrist, heels dug into the floor. “You don’t understand. You can’t tell anyone .”

Starfire came to an abrupt halt. She released his arm from her grip, and turned to look at Beast Boy, her brow now wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, glancing at the envelope in her hand once more. Beast Boy had never been a very good liar. And even if he were, it was impossible to lie to Starfire. So instead, he took a deep breath and told the truth without telling all of it. “Because… it’s embarrassing and weird,” he said. “I never really liked it.” At these words, his mind immediately jumped to the next logical thought. “Besides, if Raven or Cyborg ever found out they’d never let me live it down.”

“Hmmm,” Starfire hummed, tapping a finger on her cheek again. “Perhaps. But I still think it is a most interesting name and not embarrassing at all,” she smiled. “We already have two friends named after birds. Raven being one of them. My own name might even be considered strange. Raven has already observed that it somewhat resembles that of the equestrian cartoon characters she denies her admiration for.”

“Well, I guess the association with mine isn’t much better,” Beast Boy said, still anxious, but slightly relieved by the amusing predictability of his friend.

“What do you mean?” Starfire asked, puzzled.

“Well...Garfield isn’t really a popular name. The only thing people probably think of when they think of ‘Garfield’ is Garfield the cat. He’s like...a comic strip character or whatever.”

Starfire’s eyes lit up—literally.

“You share the name of a famous fictional feline?!” She exclaimed. “Oh, that is even better than the horses! I do not know how that could possibly be viewed as a negative. ”

Beast Boy didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the letter in Starfire’s hand.

With a sigh and a smile, Starfire gently placed a hand on his shoulder, handing him the letter. “Have not the worry, friend. I will keep it the most deepest of secrets if that is what you wish,” she said solemnly.

Beast Boy sighed and looked up at her. “Thanks, Star.”

Starfire stood there only a moment more before she quickly grabbed two granola bars off the counter and turned to make her exit. “Well, I’ll leave you alone then,” she smiled. “I do not wish to intrude upon your communications via the mail of snail.”

Beast Boy managed a weak half-smile back which she matched just before she turned to grab a protein shake and head down the hallway.

Once Starfire was out of sight and well on her way to her destination, Beast Boy made a beeline back to his own room, letter in hand. Just as carefully as he had made his initial exit, he closed the door behind him with only the smallest of screeches. Although he felt a bit silly doing so, he locked the door behind him for good measure.

He turned on the small lamp next to his bed and, very aware of how out of it he was, plopped down on the center of the mattress. The lamp illuminated a few lines of elegant cursive lettering adorning the front of the envelope, the individual letters shining with a subtle reflective glint.

‘Garfield Mark Logan ’

He flipped the envelope over and after a moment of hesitation, ripped the wax seal off as fast as he could, like a band aid. The thick paper inside was folded with geometric precision, and unfurled itself in an almost mechanical fashion. The script inside was written just as carefully—by hand he could tell. With a deep breath, he tried to relax as best he could, and he began to read:

Dear Garfield,

I know that the arrival of this letter must be wholly unexpected and draw many questions to your mind. You likely do not remember me, as we were only acquainted for a short time when you were very young. Ideally, the information I hope to relay to you now would have been communicated some 3 years ago, on the advent of your eighteenth birthday. However, I will admit that it took longer than anticipated to contact you.

Though I may be a stranger to you, I am not so to the Logan family. And I feel that it is time you were made aware of several family matters which presently concern you. I know that the loss of your parents resulted in the loss of the remainder of your blood relatives. But I hope that you may entertain the idea that family runs deeper than blood. I wish you all the best and look forward to seeing you very soon.

Sincerely,

your friend,

Dr. Nicholas Galtry

[kunoichi-ume]

May Drabbles, Day 22

Prompt: “Running seems to be all you’re good at”

Characters: (future) Republic Trooper Jurr Jiin and a brief cameo by Jedi Master Vukosh

Word Count: 1987

Jurr scrolled through the list of requirements for enlistment in the Republic Army and forced herself not to frown. She had been trying to get better at schooling her emotions, mostly to hide her almost constant state of fear and confusion, because she needed to be able to hide her condition, but the further down this list she got the more she felt her heart sinking.

It wasn’t the physical requirements that concerned her as much as it was the mental skills test. She had started physical training not long after she had realized that elisting was the only way for her to escape the medical facility that felt more like a prison than a home. Not that she had any idea what home meant, it was just one of those words she heard from time to time. It was where the other patients all went when they left, something she had only recently been able to retain.

Her memory had stabilized in the last few years, less mid day resets and total losses, but she was still missing large swaths of time. Like those developmental years of growing up, when she should have been learning and growing as a person. Doing all those things people do to become successful adults.

Those were a complete blank instead of the springboard into life they should have been.

Instead she was, well, she had no idea how old she actually was just a rough estimate that she was about sixteen, and couldn’t even tell someone how to tie a knot. She could do it, muscle memory seemed to be the only thing she could count on in her fucked up life, but if someone asked her to describe the process from memory along she wouldn’t be able to.

Jurr could run, jump, do push ups and pull ups and every other physical requirement the military had but there was two major hiccups.

They required a general education certificate. If Jurr had ever attended school, she didn’t know it and certainly had not finished or earned any proof of such. Then there was the test, one that covered what they claimed was “general knowledge” but might as well be a very obscure dialect of, well, any language other than Basic.

Dropping the datapad on her bed, Jurr let her head fall heavily against the wall behind her. “Face it Jurr,” she muttered to herself, “running seems to be all you’re good at.”

It was like all the air had gone out of her, she felt so defeated. This was her one and only chance to get out of these endless halls, to see the outside world. The facility had an indoor garden but the planet was buried in snow and ice. In theory Jurr knew she had been outside the hospital, it wasn’t where her injury happened after all, but since her arrival she hadn’t stepped foot outside that she could remember.

The white walls and endless hallways, exam rooms and surgery theaters - as far as Jurr knew that was the extent of the whole galaxy. All she would ever know, for however much her broken mind would be able to hold on to.

With a frustrated growl she pushed herself out of the bed. It was like something snapped inside her as she looked around the small room, walls covered in posters and reminders about her condition and daily routines. She couldn’t do this. Not anymore. This wasn’t a life, being a living experiment for the researchers, being alone all the time, and she couldn’t face another day of it.

Shoving the few things she couldn’t leave behind into a bag didn’t take long, there was little she thought of as being ‘hers’. Really anything she had belonged to the facility, but they wouldn’t miss a few sets of patient pants and shirts or even the datapad that she relied so much on. Not as much as they would miss fiddling with her brain.

Jurr slung the bag over her shoulder and left her room. It was a testament to how much no one noticed her or cared that no one stopped or questioned her on the way. She tried to ignore how much that hurt, it was an old familiar pain even when she couldn’t really remember having felt it before.

Despite having never been outside the hospital, Jurr managed to find the way out easier than she expected. It was like the bright, glowing signs directing her toward the exit were calling her, urging her to continue. When she could see the final door, Jurr grinned and laughed as she started to run down the hall.

This was it. Finally. She was taking her own life into her hands and was going to make something of it. Even if she failed it would be better than staying here. She hit the door at a run, crashing through it before slipping and falling hard.

Jurr gasped as she pushed herself out of the cold material she had fallen into. It was wet as well as cold, soaking her thin clothing through to the bone. Shivering she sat up and looked around. As quick as the snow, what she assumed to be snow, sapped the warmth from her body all the hope she had felt at the idea of leaving was gone.

There was nothing out here. Just ice and snow for as far as she could see.

“It’s not fair,” she said, voice carried away by the frigid breeze, “I can’t even run away.”

Defeated, Jurr sat down against the door and pulled her knees to her chest. Distantly she knew if she stayed out there too long she’d get sick, which would mean more procedures and medications, but couldn’t bring herself to care.

Jurr lost track of time as the cold seeped into her, chilling her inside and out. It was until her datapad started chiming that she was shaken from her stupor. Hands trembling from the chill, she pulled out the device and turned the screen on before frowning at the notification.

There was a new message for her but Jurr never got messages. She didn’t know anyone who would write to her.

Curious and half-sure it would be an automated spam message, she opened the file. A video autoplayed before she could stop it.

“What’s new JJ?”

The boy in the video said those words and the oddest thing happened. The anxiety in her chest relaxed and she felt warm despite the cold around her. Moving the pad closer to her face, she studied the boy intently with her eye. He was the strangest person she had ever seen. Purple hair and more facial implants than even she had, at least visible ones but his eyes were kind. So was his smile.

Jurr didn’t know who this was, but she liked him

“I don’t have long so I hope you don’t mind a video instead of a letter,” he continued as she settled back against the wall to listen. “I just wanted to check in with you, make sure you’re okay. I… I miss you and I know you’d hit me for it but I worry.”

Whoever he was, he was right. Jurr did want to smack him for that but she also kind of wanted to hug him. It was like somehow he had known she wasn’t okay. That was insane of course, there was no way this random guy could know how she felt. No one did.

Didn’t stop it from feeling like it.

Something from behind the boy caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder before frowning at the camera. “Sorry it’s short but I gotta run JJ. I’ll visit as soon as I can. Take care of yourself sis!”

Jurr stared at the datapad in shock as he winked out of existance. He called her sis but that couldn’t be right? Could it? Frantically Jurr accessed her inbox properly, not just the pop up that showed the new message. There were letters and videos there, all from the same address. Checking another video confirmed it was all from the same strange person who called her “JJ” and “sis” but no where was his name revealed to her. Hoping that somewhere he would have said his name, she started reading and watching each message in her inbox starting from the newest one.

It wasn’t until the datapad was warning her about it’s low battery that she realized her fingers were starting to turn blue and she needed to go back inside, whether she wanted to or not.

Sighing Jurr pushed to her feet, wincing at the numb feeling in her limbs. She stumbled when she tried to take a step, barely catching herself on the door before it swung open and she spilled inside and onto the floor. This time when she tried to push to her feet, she couldn’t. Her limbs had decided not to respond to her any longer but she was oddly okay with that. She was tired, more than she had noticed before trying to get up, and now was as good a place as any to nap.

She was on the verge of sleep when she heard someone shouting from down the hall. Jurr tried to tell them to be quiet but everything went dark before she could.

Warmth was the first thing Jurr noticed as she started to wake up. That and the beeping of a heart monitor that sped up as she realized she didn’t know where she was. Forcing her eye open she lifted a hand to touch the left side of her face, panicking when she realized she could only see out of one eye. Instead of the blinded eye she expected to find there was a metal plate.

Tracing the piece of metal, she tried to pull it off of her face. Her breathing had started coming in short, quick gasps as the heart monitor sang shrilly.

Suddenly hands on on her, forcing her to stop praying at the plate from her blind spot.

“No!” Jurr cried, “it’s covering my eye, get it off! Get it off me!”

“Jurr stop it!” A firm voice commanded, cutting through her panic as she froze. Turning she saw a large man looking at her with a sad expression. She wasn’t sure what he was, but with the large horn like growths on his head he couldn’t be human. “You need to relax child.”

Jurr frowned, and whispered, “but I can’t see.”

Returning her frown, he approached slowly and stopped at the side of her bed. “You only have one eye Jurr,” he said, his voice careful like he was speaking to a frightened animal.

Swallowing hard, Jurr dropped her hands and tried to process what he had told her. It didn’t seem possible but when she tried to search her memory for an image of her face she couldn’t recall anything prior to waking up.

Looking back up, intent on asking the man if he could explain how she got here, Jurr noticed him holding a datapad out to her.

“I took the liberty of getting this charged while you slept, take some time to read the notes and it should help you understand what is going on.” The man smiled kindly, inclining his head slightly before leaving the room.

Still confused, Jurr settled back against the curtains and turned the pad on. The first screen it displayed was a infographic of some sort “Uncle Zam Wants YOU For The Republic Military!” It proclaimed boldly across the a picture of a man more strange looking than the one that left, with a ring of small horns circling his head like a crown.

Curious she scrolled down the graphic to read the details on it before smiling. “The Military huh? That could be fun,” she said, thinking outloud. “Wonder what it takes to get in?”