#I only chose ones that I have either actually written something for or I have written notes/an outline for

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

general masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[dalishious]

About Davrin's little blurb on the official website for Dragon Age: The Veilguard...

"Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He'd rather make history than reflect on it."

There's actually a lot to unpack about these two sentences.

First off, placing the word "though" in front of being "raised in a Dalish clan", gives such a thing a negative connotation. The word "though" is used in a way that sounds like "despite", as in, somehow wanting excitement and adventure must go against being Dalish. This correlates with sentence that follows. "He'd rather make history than reflect on it." The word "rather" is yet again used to separate Davrin from his Dalish origin. All together, this promotional description of Davrin is insisting that he is "not like other Dalish".

Now, obviously the game is not out yet, so we do not have total confirmation on what the nature of Davrin's relationship to his culture is really like. But there is absolutely something to be said about promoting the character this way, regardless of however he actually turns out in game. There is absolutely something to be said about how, as @/the-eldritch-it-gay put in their tags here, why do writers feel the need to make fantasy minorities hate or distance themselves from their culture? As a selling point?

Maybe this is completely misleading bullshit, maybe it isn't. All we have to go by, is what BioWare chose to say here, and their past track record with elves:

Zevran may talk about his mother in a font way, but he still has the line, "Too many of our kind think we deserve pity simply because we have failed to defend ourselves."

Velanna is one of the two elves we've had who is overtly proud of her culture, yet she is treated like she is unreasonable and too angry because of it.

Merrill too, is proud of being an elf, and of being Dalish. The story punishes her left and right for this, treats her like a child, and in the end she is either ostracized from her clan or they end up dead because... she cared too much?

Fenris has pretty much zero engagement with elven cultures, and spends his time ridiculing Merrill for being proud of hers.

Solas complains about the Dalish from the start, and says plainly that he does not see himself as having anything in common with elves of current time. "Oh, you mean elves" he says, when the Inquisitor asks how he feels about his people; the thought does not even occur to him.

Sera is... Sera is a character who could have been a really interesting examination of overcoming internalized racism, if she was written by someone competent with the subject. Instead, she just cringes at everything "too elfy" through the entire main game, and only has a single line in Trespasser that hints that she may have a personal struggle going on. But it's still left unresolved.

That's a lot a lot of negativity. So of course seeing a suggestion that more is to come with Davrin has people wary and tired.

Let us also consider the fact that Davrin is overtly Black as well, and what that means. Acting as if one must disregard history in order to make it, as his description so claims, is bullshit. It sounds too much like promoting gentrification/assimilation in my opinion; the idea that you cannot keep your culture if you want to be successful.

I also think that it goes even deeper, on a meta level - I think that BioWare is afraid people will not be able to like or relate to Davrin, if he is "too ethnic". I think that BioWare is taking this Black character and instead of questioning how he can best represent marginalized fans - particularly Black fans - they are questioning how to make him more relatable to white fans. And the only answer to that is to, of course, make him seem like he is an exception to marginalization through separating him from his people.

I am still holding onto hope that Davrin will overall be an interesting, well-written character. And I sure as hell will still be defending him from the people who are already hating on him or ignoring him completely because of their racialized biases. But that does not exempt BioWare, and specifically his writer, John Dombrow, from any criticism. This is not about Davrin the character, this is about BioWare the company's handling of Davrin the character. And in that regard, they're not off to a great start with this.

[mixingandmelting]

You Know Other Men Meme HC

Summary: when he gets randomly jealous while cuddling on the sofa and you tell him he’s the most jealous man you know feat. Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian

Dick

“You know other men?”

He’s offended. Shocked. Insulted. Disappointed. 

Like who are the other men??? There were other men???

Snaps his head up and looks at you with either eyes that can probably beat Batman’s when he’s angry or the saddest, puppies eyes you’ll ever see on the planet though the grip on your waist says otherwise

Starts questioning you who these “other men” are and goes from wanting their information including address to phone number to since when you started knowing them or where you met them

But when you tell him “I know only one man and it’s you”, he’ll quickly melt - getting all dopey with a silly smile on his face as he peppers kisses all over you

Cuddles into you more though asking for you to look at something else. If not, he’s going have to use a different method to get you to listen ; )

Jason

“Yeah and you better remember it.”

It’s not confidence in himself that makes him say it - rather, it’s knowing that you chose him and would always choose him over anyone else

Like, what is there to compete? All the other guys (cough Bruce and Dick cough) are already sucking it since he’s winning with having you, the best thing in his life

Plus, since you made him yours, you’re stuck with him for eternity whether you like it or not 

Does playfully pull you into a suffocating bear hug, enjoying the warmth of your body seeping into his

Chuckles if you play along and tap his biceps, shoulder, or chest, spouting “uncle”, “I lose”, or something that’ll show you surrender

Gives you a kiss on the lips or cheeks before going back to critic and rate whatever you were looking at earlier

Tim

“You do realize I’m the only man you know?”

Rolls his eyes and pretends your comment isn’t bothering him - after all, knowing you inside and out, there are no “other men” other than him

He’s awful at hiding it though when he starts to nuzzle into the junction where you neck meets your shoulder to hide his disgruntlement

Shuffles and pulls you closer to him, trying to “imprint” himself on you. Whether it’s conscious or subconscious that is yet to be decided

Play with his hair and tell him “yes and you’re the only man I also love” will earn a warm grin from him

That or him hiding his face into your shoulder with the tip of his ears burning red as his Red Robin suit

Either way the arms around you won’t loosen up for a while, going back to cuddling in his embrace. This time with him not minding what you’re looking at making a comment here and there, mostly jabbing at your taste

Duke

“I thought I was your man?”

He’s so confused by what you just said

What do you mean “most jealous man I know” - you know other men??? Is he not your only man???

Literally will start overthinking and confront you on whether you actually have starting seeing people behind his back

Has his head-up with an “excuse me?” written all over, needing to confirm you aren’t hiding anything based on your expression

Only to feel silly and embarrassed when you give him sass e.g., “are you not the only I’m dating?” or “do I look like I have another man besides you?”. Especially if your eyes are deadpan

Poor guy ends up hiding his face, becoming the smaller spoon. Dies but appreciates if you snuggle closer to him and pat him

Damian

“You know other men?”

Does the same thing as Dick but much angrier and more hissing

It’s going to take a while to calm him down especially when he’s ready to end things there and then with plans to also take down and ruin those “other men’s” lives

Listen. You are his and only his. How dare you have other men besides him???

When you tell him “you do realize you are the only person i’m dating?” that gets him to put the katana down

He’ll ask you who these “other men” are and realize they weren’t there from the start. Not when it’s his siblings and father

He just grumbles about how you should’ve said that from start and expect you to go back cuddling with him, head pats and all other expressions of affection to comfort him

Will succumb and completely “forgive” you if you give kiss on the top of his head 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.

Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!

Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it

Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.

They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.

Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.

Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.

A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.

"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"

This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.

Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.

"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."

The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."

Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"

This means, "We will meet the double tonight."

The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.

They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.

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

That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)

They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.

They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.

"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.

"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.

"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"

"You be surprised......."

Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.

There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.

Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.

"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.

"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."

"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.

He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.

"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"

"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.

Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.

"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.

"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."

Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."

Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"

[bluexiao]

#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons

NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet

WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)

NEUVILLETTE

(Before)

Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.

He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.

And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.

He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.

“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”

He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?

Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.

The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.

“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”

“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”

“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”

Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.

But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.

Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.

Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.

(During)

It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.

The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.

It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.

Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.

When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.

He is definitely a man of his honor!!

And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.

He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.

Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.

Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)

He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).

The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.

Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.

It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.

One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.

Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.

“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.

He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”

It does not stop him from giving you offerings.

Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.

“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.

“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?

You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”

He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.

He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.

He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”

For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Inumaki Toge being insecure about his speech (or the lack of thereof).

I feel like if he could trade a year of his life for sixty seconds without his cursed speech, he would. Without second thought. And specially because of you.

He's had a crush on you for a while (ever since your first encounter), but he'd never admit it. Not because he's scared of rejection, but because he's scared you'll reciprocate his feelings. Because he thinks you deserve better. Actually, scratch that: he knows you deserve better. You deserve someone so much better than him.

"And then you won't believe what he said! He said: 'I can't date you, cause I'm actually your brother!'"

"No way! That's the plot of the movie? How shitty!"

You deserve someone like Yuta. Someone who can make you laugh with their own words, someone who you don't need to strugle to understand what they're saying. Right now, you and Okkotsu are talking about some bad movie he watched. And you're laughing so hard and your laugh is so pretty it makes him wanna laugh too. He wants to engage on the conversation. He wants to say: "That's one of the worst plots I've ever seen! I can take you to the movies to see a real good movie if you'd like to"

But he can't. He can't, but Yuta can. He should let you go so you can be with someone who deserves you. He has no right to be this selfish, making you a slave of a love without any words of affection.

It feels like everytime he looks at you, there's a nagging voice in the back of his head, painfully reminding him that he can't be with you, and there's nothing he can do about it. It's an impossible love.

Hell, even Panda is making him feel envious and jealous. Even though he's literally a panda, at least he can talk to you. Sing your favorites songs with you. And he can't. At least not without cursing someone (and, God forbid, maybe even you. You're the last person he wants to harm)

He wanted you to confide in him just like how you confide in Maki. You always tell her everything. He wishes he, too, could be a source of relief. A shoulder you can rely on. But he can't. He can't, cause the best he could say in that situation is "Salmon", "Caviar" and other stupid onigiri ingredients that have nothing to do with the actual topic of the conversation. Honestly, he would be tired of himself if he was his friend. You don't have the obligation to understand his dialogue. Nobody does.

So, he comes to the conclusion that he should just avoid you. He should give up on loving you, because he doesn't want you to suffer.

"Toge, please! We haven't talked in days! Why did you suddenly stop talking to me?"

He stays silent. That's the only thing he can do, after all. He can't speak. He can't. But he wishes he could. He wishes he could tell you everything that's going through his head, tell you about how he feels like dying when he sees you playing a game with Itadori and Nobara because he knows he'll never be capable of doing that with you normally. If he speaks now, everything that'll come out of his mouth are foods. Speaking now would only remind him about the drift that exists between you both (and there's two options to avoid anyone's fall: you either close the gap or you widen it. He chose the latter)

"..."

"Inumaki, talk to me" (how sad. You want him to do exactly the only thing he can't do. That just makes him remember that he'll never be enough for you. Never)

Also, wow. You're using his last name. He got in a really bad situation, huh? How will he get out of this? How will he stop your (and also his) suffering?

There's only one way. And even though he swore that he'd never use his spell against you, he finds himself lowering his scarf with trembling hands.

"Leave. And don't look back."

~A/N: This is the fic I wrote that I mentioned on my last post!! I know a lot of people have writen abt this b4, so this is inspired by other stories I've read (if you've written something like this and want me to credit you, feel free to send me an ask!!). IT JUST FITS INUMAKI CHARACTER SO MUCHHH!! Like, I can totally imagine him being insecure about not being able to speak. I just thought I should give it a try cause I CAN'T FIND INUMAKI STUFF, so I took matters into my own hands. I don't realy like this, but I thought it would be a waste to not post it anyway

Masterlist

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] corsica continues to inspire, even when away from the heat of the sun. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, unprotected sex (plan appropriately, folks), p in v, creampie, oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot and will not be stopped), em dashes strike back, once again time is a social construct

a/n: more horny fuckers in corsica (crowd cheers)! longest one yet!! struggled getting this written but ultimately happy with how it turned out, so hopefully y'all are, too. my biggest thanks as always to @lecrep @leclerc-hs @multiseb21 for their support & encouragement 🤍 enjoy, bbys! xx

As always, this was Charles's fault.

Well, kinda.

Okay, not at all, but, like, that’s beside the point.

What the point actually was that this was your favorite way to have him.

His hands gripped tightly into the plush of your hips, thumbs guiding the way your pelvis lazily drew patterns.  His cock was hard and hot and buried deep inside you, and the Monégasque was fighting all of his instincts not to roll the two of you over so he could find a way to sate the burning heat in his own core.

“Chérie,” he whined, hazel eyes still heavy-lidded as he’d only awoken a short while before.  Other parts of him had been awake for much longer, though, given the way he’d been grinding his cock against your ass before you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Relax, baby,” you chided with a heavy sigh, one hand on his toned chest while the other toyed with your pearl.  “You’re on holiday—enjoy it.  We don’t have anywhere to be.”

“But this is torture, mon cœur,” the man groaned, hands trying to urge you faster.  Still, you resisted and shot him a devilish look.

“This,” you rolled your hips tightly and flexed your walls around his throbbing member, “is nothing.  I can make it torture if you’d prefer that, though, hm?”

He let out a frustrated sound through his nose, a groan stifled in his throat.  His hands traced over the tanned expanse of your thighs before trailing to the small of your back under the faded oversized shirt of his you’d donned after he’d fucked you within an inch of your life the night before.

“At least let me kiss you, hm? Donne-moi quelque chose, s'il te plaît,” Charles nearly begged, the French tumbling from his lips as you ground yourself in slow, lazy circles.  He needed more—more friction, more skin, more touch, anything.  He wasn’t one to beg, usually, but he was more than willing in this instance.

“So needy,” you teased, but the way his hands tangled in your hair and his tongue slid against your own had your hips bucking in such a way that gave away your hand; you had a straight flush but his was royal.  A choked sound left the back of your throat as you moved your hips quicker, one of the hands in your hair moving to grab the flesh of your ass to urge you on.

As you pulled away for a moment, Charles didn’t waste his chance and used his other hand to pull back the hem of the t-shirt you wore and latch his plump lips to one of your pert nipples in a way that made your toes curl and your eyes close tight as stars sparked.

“Fuck,” you swore, “I–”

“So needy,” he teased like an absolute little shit before you swatted at his head and he took his golden opportunity.

Banding an arm around your back, the driver pulled you tight to his chest and planted his feet into the bed before driving his hips up into your own in a way that made your insides feel like molten lava. With a filthy cry, you grabbed tight to the sheets on either side of your boyfriend as he set the new pace.

“Je pensais que je te l'avais enlevé hier soir,” he grunted in your ear as he speared against something blindingly delicious within you, and his hand palmed at your ass with your tits pressed tight against his chest.  You knew it was good for him, too, when he started slipping into Italian, blurring the lines between the languages he knew so well until they were practically an unintelligible mess.

“Charles–I’m gonna—ah!,” you started to warn as the edges of your vision blurred and the heat in the pit of your core started seeping through the cracks in your bones.

“Je sais, minette,” he grit as he felt your cunt spasm tightly around him, his own orgasm careening towards him at a blinding speed like an avalanche in the Dolomites.  “Putain–,” he swore as his hips bucked spasmodically into you, pressing into the wet velvet heat as far as your core would allow as every part of him chased whatever would bring him closer to his completion.

You felt him shudder beneath you as his hands held you tight against him; he wanted to feel all of you, and you certainly were in no place to complain as your own orgasm started to recede.  You basked in the warmth of one another, the way your hips slotted so perfectly against his, how your hearts pounded against each other’s chests.

Part of you didn’t want to break the blissful quiet of the post-orgasm glow, but your pride had other qualms.  “You’re a sore loser, you know that?,” you teased as you rolled partway off your partner, hissing as you lost the comfortable stretch of his cock inside of you.

Chuckling softly, he shrugged as he turned his head to the side to see your heavy eyes.  “I have no idea what you are talking about—I was simply exercising a-a new strategy!”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.  “You are unbelievable, Leclerc.”

“Unbelieve...ably good?,” he asked with a stupid grin that made you roll your eyes once more before you leaned in to kiss him once again.

“Unfortunately yes–”

“Say no more!,” he beamed before shooting out of bed, reinvigorated.  He disappeared for a few moments, your eyes closing as sleep tempted you once more.

You heard him pad back in and around to the side of the bed you’d rolled to, something warm and wet touching the inside of your thigh.  Gently, he cleaned you with a warm washcloth before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sleepyhead,” he teased gently as you popped your eyes open for just a moment to peek at him as he went about the room, tidying up from the night before.  You two had gotten a bit…wild, to put it mildly.

“I resemble that remark,” you quipped, eyes closed once more as you raised a finger in the air.  Soon enough, though, you were drifting back off to sleep, only to wake several hours later in the late afternoon.

There was a note on top of your phone on the bedside table, scribbled in his surprisingly neat half-print, half-cursive handwriting.  “Out for a run,” it read, a little heart and smiley face with its tongue sticking out accompanying it.  Unsure when he’d be back, you finally convinced yourself to slip out of bed and into a much-needed shower.  You smelled like a mix of salt and chlorine and citrus—heaven, to Charles, but the grit of it was a bit much to take.  Besides, you needed to wash your hair as the two of you had plans for the evening, and your hair had become a mess over the past few days.

Stripping out of the shirt you’d haphazardly thrown on the night before, you ducked under the warm spray of the shower once you’d managed to settle on a half-decent playlist.  Humming to yourself, you didn’t hear Charles come back as you neared the end of your shower.

Sitting on the bench at the end of the unmade bed, he watched you through the half-fogged glass of the shower as the scent of your soap drifted through the air and the warmth of the steam lingered at the threshold between the two rooms.  He shouldn’t want you as badly as he does, but there’s something about your connection that was more intoxicating than any alcohol or drug could ever try to rival.  Everything about you drew him in, pulled him closer and closer like he was caught in a whirlpool; you’d bewitched him—mind, body, and soul—and under no circumstance did he want the spell to be broken.

You caught sight of him as you stepped out and began toweling off, asking, “Good run?”

He nodded as he stood, finally kicking off his shoes and shucking himself out of his shorts and briefs.  “Not as good as this morning,” he wrinkled his nose at the qualifier, pecking your lips before restarting the shower so he, too, could join you in your newfound cleanliness.  “Good shower?”

“Not as good as this morning,” you conceded in teasing as you watched him slip under the water with a laugh.

As he showered, you went to work at the vanity, going through your neglected skincare routine and brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair.  By the time it was wrapped in a towel and on its way to drying, Charles had finished his own shower and was drying off with the lone clean towel you’d left him (you desperately needed to do some laundry tomorrow).

Towel wrapped around his waist, he took up his seat on the bench once more, scrolling aimlessly on his phone to distract himself from how you leaned over the vanity as you carefully applied your makeup.  You’d abandoned the towel that had been around your body, tired of having to fight the damn thing to stay secured every two minutes.  Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before.

Charles, of course, did not mind this, but it certainly made it difficult to keep his focus on anywhere except the peek of your slit between your thighs and the curve of your tits every time you lent closer to the mirror in inspection.  It was dizzying, the way the blood rushed from his head to his…other head just at the mere sight of you.

Twitter half-held his attention for another five minutes, but that was all he could muster before he was stalking back to you and on his knees no less.  With a start and a gasp, you felt the heat of his tongue where you loved it most, eyes rolling back before you could catch yourself.  He hummed in response to the pitiful keening that left your lips.

“You are—fuck,” you started, caught off guard by the earnest press of Charles's thumb against your clit, “insatiable.  How do…how?” You had no idea where he pulled the stamina from, but you certainly weren’t complaining nor upset.

Stubbled open-mouth kisses pressed their way up your spine until he was standing behind you, caging you in with a hand on the vanity counter on either side of your hips.  “Quelque chose sur vous,” he breathed into the nape of your neck before planting a searing kiss there.  “I don’t know,” he shrugged with a groan as he rested his brow against your shoulder.

“Like I said earlier,” you teased softly as you turned in his arms, in the small cage he made with his arms against the countertop, “so needy.” The smell of his soap was still strong, but there was also something uniquely Charles, something you yourself could never get enough of.

He laughed at that, and you could feel the rumble of it where your abdomens met.  “Maybe,” he relented with a devilish twinkle in his eye, “but something tells me you are just as–”

You tutted, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare finish that thought. At this rate we’ll never make it out tonight if you keep trying to fuck me,” you warned with a tilt of your head.

“But–”

“No buts.”

“Not even this one?,” he smirked, thinking himself something of a genius as the little shit fully palmed each cheek and pulled you in closer to press tightly against his toned body.

“Especially not that one!,” you swatted at his hands before he started running away from you and your faux-outrage, leaving you alone in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

An hour later he peeked his head in once more, dressed in a linen outfit perfect for a hot, humid, night on the Mediterranean. (Of course, this was something you’d helped him pick because Lord knows this man couldn’t be left to his own devices when it came to style; he had the style sense of a 14-year-old boy, and yet you loved him despite it—you were truly a saint.)  “Almost ready?,” he asked, eyes raking over the mid-length sleeveless silk dress you’d chosen, hair pulled into a messy French twist with simple gold accessories.  It wasn’t until he saw the slit clear up the middle of your thigh that he let out an exasperated sigh.  He was in for a long night.

Turns out, it wasn’t the worst thing ever.  Because by the time you’d made it back to the villa, you were both half-drunk on sangria and unable to keep your hands off one another…or, at least, more so than usual.

You’d gone to dinner and afterward, a small club where, in the darkened corner away from the flash of colored lights and drunken laughter of other revelers, you two made out like you were teenagers again.  He whispered naughty things in your ear, hot insistent hands slipping under your dress to grasp at the skin he so badly wanted to be pressed against—especially with how you’d toyed with him all night.  If you thought you were going to get away with grinding your ass against him, trailing the toe of your sandal up his legs during dinner, and whining in his ear with no shame…you had another thing coming.

With you bent over the back of the sofa, Charles shoved your dress over your hips where he chuckled in disbelief.  You smiled a Cheshire grin, knowing what he’d finally discovered for himself: you weren’t wearing any panties.

“You dirty girl,” he tsked in your ear as he pulled your back flush with his front, a strong arm around your middle in a way that was reminiscent of your midday fuck.  His hand smoothed over the plane of your belly and dipped into the sacred heat of your cunt to draw a whimper from your lips that he’d been desperate to hear all evening.  “So needy,” he teased as he ground his hard length against the curve of your ass and into the small of your back.

“Please–,” you pleaded with him, your sangria-addled mind having one desire and one desire, alone.

“Ne t'inquiète pas, chérie,” he hushed you as you bent back over and started arching your back for him: you were going to make this an offer he couldn’t refuse.  Groaning at the sight, he pressed the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance before slotting his pelvis against your own in one fell press of his hips.

He cursed, dropping his head down to rest against the space between your shoulder blades.  You wiggled your hips in desperation, needing friction—needing anything—to ease the ache between your legs. Hissing at the sensation, Charles nipped at the skin over your spine before soothing it with his tongue.  “Je sais, minette,” he groaned before starting a truly punishing rhythm with each stroke.  His hands gripped tight at your hips, only stopping for a moment to help you hitch one of your legs onto the back of the couch you were bent over which allowed his cock to grind against something deep within you.

You were hurtling fast and hard to your climax, and you could tell your partner wasn’t far behind with how his praises and curses tumbled from his lips in equal measure. The Monégasque was a talker in bed, you’d come to learn, but even more so now that his mind’s filter had been soaked in shitty sangria.

“So close–Charles, pl-please,” you whined pitifully before a hand entwined in your now-ruined bun and tugged, wrenching a choked gasp from your throat. You babbled half-incoherently as he held you against him once more and his other hand snaked around the front of your hip to rub tight circles over your pearl with that perfect rasp of much-needed friction.

“Jouis pour moi, chérie,” he gritted in your ear, and you didn’t need to be told twice as waves of pleasure crashed over your body.  Warmth spread from your core to the tips of your toes, breath caught in your throat as you rode the earliest waves.  Your hips bucked insistently against him, his own losing their rhythm at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him and pulling him headfirst into a blinding high of his own.

With a choked gasp and your name on his lips, you felt as he came inside you just moments after your own orgasm. Panting and positively fucked out, you dropped down over the couch once more, slowly but surely floating back down into your body. Charles draped over you in exhaustion, catching his own breath as one of his hands found yours and traced over it mindlessly with gentle fingers.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to figure out I wasn’t wearing any underwear,” you pondered aloud like the thought of your bare cunt under that dress hadn’t just resulted in the fuck of your life.  You were a tease—and an unabashed one, at that.

“Mon Dieu, chérie.”

final note: one more part for our stay in corsica before we depart the island! hoping you guys will enjoy it! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes where i reblog inspo & recs!

[iloveoldermen-posts]

Idk if you do these kinds of things but I kinda wanna get this off my chest. 141 or whoever you chose with an actual ghost reader? Like they kinda haunt the base and leave little trinkets and notes. Uh little ghostie has taken a liking to them and vice versa. The boys like to sometimes leave little things they find for her to eventually move somewhere else either for a prank or a pick me up to show she’s there. This is my first time ever doing a request so feel free to ignore if it’s too much

- ♠️ s

My Little Note I'M SORRY BUT THE CREATIVITY. My god this ask ateeee. I will try my hardest to bring the vision to life, thank youuu for suggesting it!!

Warnings: open ending, slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, gender neutral however i have not proof read ୨୧

Everybody knew the base was haunted, I mean with how many people had died, with how many souls that were lost - it was bound to happen. The ghosts pretty much kept to themselves, wanting to finally be at peace. So unless you were a real pain in the as, they left you alone.

The 141 thought it was all a myth, something to make soldier's feel better about being afraid of their past haunting them. That was until 'little ghostie' took a liking to them. At first it was just the taunting of the man who dared call himslef 'Ghost', he hadn't reached that stage yet and Ghostie thought he shouldn't foreshadow the loneliest part of the cycle of life.

Ghostie thought it was funny seeing these big, wise men pracically shit themselves at the creak of floorboard, especially since everybody else knew about the base and accepted the idea of it being haunted.

When the 141 finally accepted Ghostie was there to stay, they started noticing things, trinkets of sorts. For example, leaving a bar of soap on Johnny's pillow, him replying 'real funny Ghostie.' Eliciting a gentle giggle to be heard and echoed through Johnny's mind for the rest of the week.

Or when Ghostie left a little ghost plush for Simon in his regular seat in the meeting room. He smiled under his mask and stuffed it in his pocket. Later that night when Ghostie was doing rounds of the base, they noticed Simon fast asleep with the small teddy almost engulfed by his arm muscle.

Gaz was given a drawing of himself sitting next to an empty chair filled with small orbs. Gaz classed it as a masterpiece and not only did he hang it up but he had it framed and placed on a wall in their common room, not even caring about the design rules.

Price was the last to recieve any gift at all, some of the boys even had multiple before he recieved his first. He didn't care about all of that when he recieved his gift - a beautifully written cursive letter explaing to him who Ghostie really was and how happy they are now they have all met.

The letter included the fact that when a ghost finally reaches full contentness, they either pass over or come back from the land of the dead.

That was the last time they heard from 'little ghostie' for the past week, unsure of what they finally chose..

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

[alotofpockets]

Secret admirer | Jackie Groenen

Pairing: Jackie Groenen x Nedwnt!Reader

Prompts: "It was you the whole time?" & "Your handwriting is recognizable, you know that right?"

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

Ever since the national team camp had started, you have been finding little notes everywhere. Most often you would find them in your bags, or in your locker but sometimes you would find a note with your name on it in a shared space like next the the coffee machine outside of the conference room. 

You loved whenever a new one would show up, always smiling at the lovely message that was written on it. Usually either a compliment or a beautiful quote. You kept every one of the notes that you had received from your secret admirer in a box, happily adding the newest editions each time. 

Today when you entered the dining hall all eyes were on you, “What’s going on?” You asked, getting a little shy from all the attention. “We’ve found another note from your secret admirer.” Daan says while wiggling her eyebrows, waiving the note with your name on it through the air. “Hey, give that to me.” You say while snatching it from her hand. “Does it say your name, huh?” Daniëlle just laughs at your possessiveness of the little note. 

You grab your food and sit down at one of the tables. Taking the little folded note from your pocket to read it. It was another one with a compliment which made you blush instantly, you looked pretty today! was written on the note you had to work hard on to hide from your curious teammates. “Do you know who they are from, yet?” Jackie asks. You shake your head, “No, the notes are always anonymous.” 

In reality you had known who the notes were from almost instantly. You just chose to let this play out, because quite frankly you felt very flattered and loved by how much effort your not so secret admirer was putting into making you smile. 

After breakfast you head out to the training field with the rest of the team. They continued their teasing when you’d taken the note with you instead of leaving it in your room. You couldn’t care less about their teasing though, you had fallen hard for the writer of the notes a long time ago, and were eager to get to the stage where she would let you in on her secret.

It wasn’t until a couple weeks into training camp when you and a few of the girls took a trip to the beach on your day off. It was the perfect weather for a walk on the beach and you were so glad that Jackie suggested it. Unbeknownst to you, her intention was to only ask you to go but when people got wind of it, they invited themselves along for a group hang.

When you all walked past a small restaurant, Daan suggested taking a little break. Most of the girls were down, just Jackie seemed to not be into the idea. “Actually, I think I want to continue walking for a bit longer. You guys go ahead though.” You excused yourself from the group and followed Jackie, noticing the slightly somber look on her face. “Hey Jacks, mind if I join? The weather is just so nice today.” Her smile quickly returned. “Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you about something, so this is perfect.”

You continued walking as Jackie started talking. “So, since camp is nearing its end, I wanted to tell you something.” You smiled at her, encouraging her to continue, knowing full well what she was on about. “The notes you’ve been getting.” She started, nervously looking up at you. Jackie seemed to be too nervous to continue, so you decided to ask her, "It was you the whole time?" Her eyes widened, did you know or were you guessing? “Yes, it was me.” 

You smile wide at the confession, even though you already knew it was her, it was just so good to hear her say it. “Aw Jacks, that’s sweet. I had no idea!” She studies your face, noticing a slight sparkle in your eyes. “You already knew it was me, didn’t you?” You laugh, “Yes, yes I did.” Jackie hides her face behind her hands. “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed right now.” You shake your head and move your hands over hers, effectively taking them away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. I loved it.” You reassure her. “Why didn’t you stop me as soon as you realized it was me?” You left one of your hands on her cheek, gently stroking it with your thumb, while you held her hand in your other. “Because I never want you to stop leaving me little notes like that.” She searches your face again, looking for the meaning behind your words. A meaning she finds when you start slowly leaning in, waiting for any kind of response from the woman in front of you to make sure that this is what she wanted to. The moment Jackie starts leaning in too, you smile and pull her face closer to yours, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

After you pull back from the kiss, you wrap your arm around her, hugging her tightly. “I just wanted to say that I look out for your notes every single day, they mame me very happy. Especially knowing they came from you, of course.” You place a quick peck to her cheek and the two of you continue walking down the beach hand in hand. It wasn’t until about five minutes later that Jackie stopped you in your tracks, “Wait, how did you know it was me?” 

You reach in your pocket to pull out the note from today, "Your handwriting is recognizable, you know that right?" Jackie starts laughing, “How did I not realize that?” You laugh with her, “I have no idea, but it’s very cute.” 

Since the wind was getting colder you decided to turn around and head back to the restaurant the rest of the girls went to. You walk up to their table together and each order a hot chocolate to warm up again. The hot chocolate came with a small napkin, which gave Jackie an idea. She reached in her purse and grabbed a pen. You smile when you realize she is writing you another note, this time right in front of you. You read her note with a big smile on your face. 

Life is an adventure, and I cannot wait to live this adventure with you by my side.

xx Jackie

Your first signed note and the start of a beautiful adventure. You pocket the note, the rest of the girls not having noticed anything yet, hoping to keep this between the two of you for a little longer. 

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[girl4music]

“But I can tell you this, Xena… you’re the only constant in my life, and unless you know something I don’t, I’m not going anywhere. So I’m going to say the most selfish thing I’ve ever said to you: that baby’s my baby too, and I deserve a chance to fight for it as much as you.”

- Gabrielle, ‘Them Bones, Them Bones’ (Original script dialogue.)

They knew what they were doing with this scene. Especially the way Xena AND Gabrielle’s heads turn back to the baby at exactly the same time as if they were both proud of making that little bundle of joy between their arms. Also notice how Gabrielle only steps away after a glance towards Xena and Eve, clearly assessing that they both need to be alone while she responds to Hercules' request. As if to say "You stay here, I'll take care of business."

Dialogue is rarely ever needed between these two because the body language communicates so much in small intimate scenes like this. Both the mark of great acting and great chemistry between the actresses. I've always said that it's the quiet moments that truly reveal the depth of the loving relationship between Xena and Gabrielle. Whether you see it in a romantic way or not, you cannot deny that it is not filled with unconditional love. Especially where Gabrielle is concerned.

In fact...

I'm reminded of what Ares says in the ice cave in confession to what he believes to be a dead Xena about the dichotomy between his love for Xena and Gabrielle's love for Xena.

"You're with her now. I handled you all wrong. I know that. She knew what you needed - unconditional and unselfish love - and I couldn't give that to you. But I appreciated you in ways she never could. Your rage, your violence, your beauty. When you sacrificed yourself for others, you were hers. But when you kicked ass, you were mine. I love you, Xena."

- Ares, ‘Looking Death In The Eye’.

And I back up what I say in my character study thesis. The reason why Gabrielle won Xena's affection every time wasn't just because she was good at that moment. It's because she was given a CHOICE to be good in EVERY moment. Ares never offered her that choice. It was always "be mine, or die". Gabrielle always did - she would just take herself out of the picture if Xena chose evil or stand against her.

Such a striking difference is often not spoken about in this love triangle the writers obviously intended between Xena, Gabrielle and Ares. It says that the show never really went one way or the other on the romance not just because it couldn't... But because it didn't have to. There was importance in keeping the romance balanced although many wouldn't admit to it and would rather just complain about it instead. As for me, I think it's one of the most groundbreaking things about it. Rob was definetly right about keeping it this way and I back him up on it 100%. We knew that Gabrielle had Xena's heart. However, the conflict in Xena's heart would always remain because Ares would always be around to remind her of her former life. And in so doing this, we learn that Xena could never be definitively one way or the other either. This is what made her character so damn dynamic. And why it was leagues ahead of its time in queer representation. Even today, a bisexual narrative like this is never done. Or rather - it’s done but it’s never written this well. It’s never connected to the major narratives and themes. And that’s because the queer characters are never the major characters. They’re never the actual narrative. Instead, the queer characters have to wrap around it. And that’s the wrong way of going about doing this.

I don’t care what anyone says.

Gabby was the daddy.

Or the other mother, if you prefer. Although, I would definetly say Gabrielle’s role was typically that of a father. I don’t like gender norms, roles and stereotypes either but that doesn’t mean those are off-limits to a woman.

I’ve said before that the fact Gabrielle was depicted as doing the “typical father” role means the writers were abolishing the belief that only a man can do it and therefore using gender norms, roles and stereotypes as a way to promote equality and solidarity.

If you have a problem with me calling Gabrielle the “father” of Eve, you have to understand I am speaking from the point of view they would have in their time. There was no such thing as a same-sex couple in Ancient Greece in the sense that they could marry and have children without the participation of a male figure. Of course gay couples would exist but would not be socially accepted. Hell, it wasn’t even socially accepted a decade ago. What makes you think it was then? So me referring to Gabrielle as that male figure in Eve’s life should be seen as a compliment, not an insult. I’m saying she had the capability to fill that role and she wasn’t even a man. Just like how Xena could fill the role of a warlord and she wasn’t a man. Can’t you see that I am giving them respect as people who can take on both the feminine and masculine side of situations? Xena and Gabrielle were human anomalies and that’s bloody awesome as far as I’m concerned. I wish more shows today had that kind of gender roles representation with their characters. Sadly, they don’t.

[lightlycareless]

omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit

Heya anon!!

I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol

I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...

Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')

Happy reading!

As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.

“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”

“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”

“I—I won’t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”

But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.

A supposed act of mercy.

He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?

But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.

Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.

And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.

Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.

He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…

But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.

And thus….

“…Naoya?”

“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”

“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”

And… where does everything you lived with him stand?

The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…

And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…

Was it… all … a lie?

All for… nothing?

Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?

“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”

“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you!  How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”

Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.

Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.

Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.

And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.

The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.

The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.

Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.

Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.

You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.

That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.

It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.

When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?

Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.

You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.

It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.

A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.

…

Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?

Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?

There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…

Maybe ex-husband, by this point.

All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.

The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.

And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.

Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.

Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.

But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.

As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.

But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.

You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.

From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.

Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.

However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!

And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.

“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.

“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.

“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”

“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.

“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”

Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.

He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.

Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.

For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.

And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.

Or so he believed.

Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.

Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.

But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.

Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.

In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.

Nothing.

And no one had seen you either.

Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.

At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.

The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…

And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.

“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”

“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.

“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”

“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”

Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.

No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.

Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.

It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.

“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.

“Get—get away from me.”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.

“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”

“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”

“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”

It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.

Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.

But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.

“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”

“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”

“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.

“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”

“…I know.”

“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!

But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!

 Did he never—did he even love me?”

Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.

And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.

He wanted to do it; you know?

He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.

But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.

If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.

Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.

Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

 “I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”

And unlike your husband, he means it.

Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.

Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...

agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!

Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!

Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️

[twst-drabbles]

Soulmates AU: Idia

Summary: You were born with a run-on sentence for a soulmate mark on your arm, from wrist to shoulder. Now you finally met the man that utters these words by a trashcan.

(I was requested and wrote this long number. Over 4000 words all written within the span of four days. I wrote this for @twst-charity. Not gonna lie, pretty proud that I wrote this much in that span of time. Been a while since I could do that, though I did end up pulling a muscle in my neck. I hope this is a fun read. It's also on ao3 as well. Right here.)

The writings you were born with were practically illegible at birth. The font was rather fancy, overly so, and the words circled around from your wrist to your shoulder so tightly that your family was convinced it was a giant birth mark and not the words of your soulmate.

But you grew and so did the spaces in those words. It was a pretty spiral, but as age continued to feed you wisdom, you felt that this position was deliberate. Because, as far as you knew, this first sentence could very well be the ramblings of someone going mad or already is. But first words are hardly something to build assumptions on, especially when it comes to the subject of your soulmate.

These words covering your arm are about a fictional character named Alexius von Tuveria en Ris. Well, at least you hope it’s fictional. It’s kind of a silly name to give to a kid. And also you’re not exactly up for having a soulmate that’s this, uh, verbose and opinionated about an actual person. You’ve been exposed to the deeper parts of the celebrity fan culture and you’re good with staying far away from it.

…Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick…

That was only part of the sentence on your arm. Your soulmate, where ever they are, they sure do talk a lot. Like, a whole lot. You tried repeating the sentence on your arm in just one breath and you had to practice a few years just to get it right. Strong lungs on that one, probably.

And a whole lot of unique factors to help narrow down the pool of who is and who isn’t your soulmate. Alexius von Tuveria en Ris is a pretty unique name by itself. But, the uniqueness of it did return disappointment, since searching online for a character with such a name yielded no results. You made it a habit to search at least once a week or so, just in case it was a series that has yet to exist.

You were also sort of relieved to find out that there was no royal family with a similar name. Though, that still didn’t rule out the possibility. For all you know, this could be a fake name someone chose for themselves.

Either way, this name will come to exist at some point, someone or something will be Alexius von Tuveria en Ris, and you’d have to make sure to be on top of that.

But, then you couldn’t, because suddenly you found yourself in a place called Night Raven College. One minute you were living your regular life, and the next you found duty after duty from your “oh so kind” headmage with a cat that doesn’t learn to listen when he should.

It was… an adjustment certainly. The grating egos of everyone here, the casual and not so casual use of magic that can and will kill you if it hits you in just the right way, and large restrictions on your finances rarely left you with more than a few complaints, but all you could do was grit your teeth and trudge on.

At least, despite all of these annoyances and difficulties, there are some silver linings to the found here. Magic itself was something of a marvel to witness, you won’t lie to yourself about that. You will never say it out loud for anyone to head though, because you know the minute you do, people like Grim will gloat and unintentionally belittle you with a, “Well, something as simple as that would look amazing to you, huh?”

And out of a need to never hear those words uttered by anyone, you decided to use one of your privileges to lock yourself in the computer lab. It’s after curfew, so most of the students not in remedial classes are at their dorms by now.

Next to you were a couple of spiral notebooks, the blue one opened and already filled to the brim with notes about basic magic mechanics. Sure, you can’t do a single lick of magic as far as you can tell, but you don’t want to make the blunder of relying on your preconceived notions of it.

Though, as with all studying, even on a subject as interesting as this, your brain starts to fuzz up and suddenly you can’t even retain the current paragraph. Your eyes kept skimming over the same words over and over. Finally, you huffed and slumped back in your chair, setting your pencil aside.

Though, before you decide to call it quits and rest for the night, you felt one more search would be interesting. You pushed up your sleeve until you found the name of Alexius von Tuveria en Ris on your forearm, and typed that into the blinking bar.

Hehe, the name looked a little funny in this cutesy font this search engine uses. You weren’t expecting anything honestly. You’ve already cut your losses with meeting your soulmate young. You’ve had cousins and other distant relatives that haven’t met their soulmates until they were in their seventies. Knowing how that bird-brained Crowley works, you’ll probably return back home when you’re at least in your forties. Or fifties.

He’s really taking his sweet-ass time, huh?

Either way, you pressed enter and stretched. Nothing to come of it and nothing to lose with this simple search, right? You’ve already been through the phase of obsessively searching every day back when you were younger and had too much time. At this point, it does no harm to search at least once. You mean, why not?

But, it was a hit. Several pages of hits. At the top of the pastel blue search engine was Alexius von Tuveria en Ris in all bold. In fact, from the title of the website, you’d say it was an entire site dedicated to this character.

Here it was. The very thing you’ve searching for, waiting for, was right in front of your eyes.

You didn’t say anything, you just clicked. Paragraphs and paragraphs of detailed information about this person–a fictional character–laid before you. You nearly ripped your sleeve up your arm as you scrolled down the page, looking between the screen and your skin as you confirmed that what you’re reading is correct and not just a huge coincidence that’s made to make fun of you for having hope.

The name matches, the background of isolating himself in his castle matches, the huge blow out after attempting to revive his Kingdom of Paradise matches. All of it matches your arm.

You let go of the mouse, eyes burning from staring at a white screen with black text for too long, and just sat. You stared up at the ceiling…

…and quietly seethed.

For months you’ve been wanting to go back home, and often in the middle of the night, you’d find yourself wishing you never got transported here in the first place. Some part of you buried deep was starting to believe that you would never go home, and if you knew that the option of exploring a magical place came with the consequence of never going home, you never would have taken it.

But now your arm and this screen was telling you that you had no choice but to come here. That it was destined, preordained. No matter how hard you fought, you were going to be whisked away.

It… it sucked, you will admit that.

But you sighed out all the doubts and breathed in realistic optimism. You came here one way, there has to be a way out. It happened once, so it’s logical that it would happen again.

And so, with a light stretching of your sore fingers and wrists, you clicked and read as much information you can. Absorbing the series that’s apparently been running for a good twenty years with a handful of remakes and one live action that flopped on its face.

Before you know it, it was way past the dead of night and encroaching on morning. You took a minute to stretched and rub at your strained eyes before packing everything up. You’re going to regret doing all this in the morning, when classes start, but what can you say? You like living in the moment.

You walked out, locked everything up with the keys Crowley entrusted you with, and started down the path towards your dorm. Sure, you do have permission to use the mirrors on campus, but you’re pretty sure you need someone with magic to be able to use the thing. Or you probably don’t, for all you know, but you’re not in the mood to test the theory.

You found yourself on a cross section at the road that served as a nice resting spot before heading to Sam’s shop. It had a couple of fancy black benches with gaudy gold legs, a fountain so large you’re glad you don’t have to clean it, and a lot of foliage for that beautiful view and clean air.

With all these sights nicely lit by the evenly spaced lamps to take in, instead your eyes settled on someone that chose to huddle by a trashcan. You heard crinkling and, at first, you thought this person was riffling through the trash. You got closer, and while you can’t say you were wrong, the only thing in this man’s hands was a poster.

Then, finally, you were within earshot.

“And just when I found the perfect poster, I find it in a trash can of all things, wrinkled up and thrown away because some ignorant idiot thought this was only worth as much as a piece of paper,”

Kind a rambler huh? Sounds like he’s having a bad day. Or night. Should probably just leave him alone.

…

Hold on a moment.

You pulled up your sleeve.

“Couldn’t have the decency to give this limited edition poster back for people like me, who truly appreciate the series, to own, but no of course not, it would be inconvenient, horrible that they would wrinkle the main character’s Kingdom of Paradise that he’s always dreamed of, Alexius von Tuveria en Ris doesn’t deserve any of this, though not as if he’d do anything about it if he saw since that prince is just too kind-hearted and honestly kind of cheesy, though cheesy doesn’t mean cringe and cringe is something normies are so immune to it almost makes me sick–AH there’s a tear because of course,”

You were twisting your arm this way and that, making very sure that this random man’s rant actually matched your words. You almost pulled a muscle as he continued, eyes and neck straining to read the words on your shoulders.

You lost your balance and caught yourself just as the man before you stopped his rant with a huff.

Before he could possibly start again, you walked right behind him and said, “So you’re the dude that inked up my arm.”

Ah, you didn’t really have any special words in mind, like a lot of your classmates back in your younger days. Yes, you’re buzzing a little with excitement, but you’re so tired and drained from another emotional high that you’re in a fog. Besides, you already confirmed that this person’s your soulmate, whatever pops out of your mouth will be just as unique.

“Eep!” A high little squeak of a yelp. The student–his jacket held Ignihyde designs on it–retreated his arms to his chest, like he’s ready to either lash out or curl into a ball.

He would’ve fell backwards if your legs didn’t stop his fall.

“Whoops,” you pushed him to his feet with a hand to his shoulder, “sorry about that. You okay?”

Only then did he finally turn. His hood fell from his face and unleashed an absolute bonfire of hair. A luminous bright blue that almost blinded you.

And suddenly, his hair turned an almost violent mix of pink and purple.

He blinked, then his eyes flickered from your face to his wrist, where your words are. The man opened his mouth but his voice didn’t scream so much as it whistled before dashed to the left. He sped crawled on all fours for a moment before finding his footing.

This man, whom you would eventually find out to be called Idia, ran away upon first meeting you, his soulmate.

You weren’t offended in the least. You can understand that being seen mumbling like a maniac by a trashcan isn’t the best way to be seen by your fated soulmate. So, with that in mind, you didn’t search out for him for about three days.

By day four, you got impatient and decided to hunt down for Idia since he has not even left a hint hint about wanting to meet you. A week would’ve been the original waiting time, but this college really takes a toll on you and you just want this done before you get dragged into another magical situation.

The first day, you waited by a classroom you knew Idia attended. Well, Idia’s tablet. Being a housewarden and not a regular student, it’s rather easy to stumble upon information about him. Egocentric students love to gossip when it’s framed to either make their dorm or themselves look better.

You saw a peek of a magical tablet and grabbed without hesitation.

“Ha?” You heard clicking and felt the tablet attempt to leave your hands. You turned it around and faced the built in camera.

“Hey,” you greeted as causally as you could, “Idia, right? Met you a few nights before–”

Another click, and suddenly your entire vision went white with a flash of light. You dropped the tablet.

By the time your eyes went back to normal, the tablet was gone and you were alone again.

“So, that’s how it going to be, huh?” You’ve had your fair share of runaways. In fact, your little group was mostly made of them, running away for one reason or another, like not wanting to go to class, or avoiding cleaning duties for a mess they’ve made. This was not a new situation for you.

If Idia thinks he can run away from you forever, he has another thing coming.

The next day, you found the tablet floating in the library. You got a ladder to grab it from the bottom, but you weren’t quiet enough when you climbed it. The tablet floated right past your fingertips and dashed out the door with a “Sorry!”

Well, at least he apologized. But you still want to talk!

Another day passes and you found the man physically just as you were about to walk out the classroom. He had a stack of papers in his hands, late assignments he had to turn in physically if he wanted a chance at passing apparently. He didn’t see you, so you retreated behind the door.

When you saw Idia’s figure pass by the door, you popped out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Idia,” you firmly said with a tightening grip on his frozen shoulder, “we need to talk.”

And you were meet with a tower of papers to the face and he was gone before you dug through the pile.

By that point, you were ready and willing to start dragging your other friends into the mix. You let this skittish soulmate of yours to run off the first few times because you didn’t want to stress him out too much. But, by this point in time, it would be better to throw caution to the wind if only so you two can actually sit down and have a talk.

But, by the next morning, before you could meet up with everyone, a robot kid you recognize as Ortho shot out of the sky and landed with surprising grace. At the price of leaves and dirt flooding your mouth.

“There you are!” His voice was loud but it wasn’t grating. It was a cute kind of loud, like he was happy to see you.

You spat on the ground and leaned against a tree, still groggy from waking up. “Ortho, right? Hello. You need something? I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“To make a plan to catch my big brother right?”

His accuracy left you stunned.

“Uh.”

“Then, please come with me!” Ortho grabbed your arm and enthusiastically, “I keep telling my brother to suck it up and meet you, but he just won’t!”

“I know that,” you gritted your teeth, feeling like your shoulder will pop out of its socket, “Mind telling me where you’re taking me though.”

“I’m taking you to–” Ortho paused, floated behind you and grabbed your shoulder, “Hold on, this will be faster. We’re going to Ignihyde!”

“Wha–?” But you were forced to eat your words, just when it was finally free of all dirt and leaves.

And before you know it, you were gently placed on your feet in front of the Ignihyde dorm.

“Huh.” If you delete the last few minutes from your mind, you’d say it was a pretty enjoyable ride. Quick, at least.

“So, future soulmate of my big brother,” You’re pretty sure he knows who you are, you’re not exactly a quiet presence with that monster fire cat always around, “I have to do other things, so you just have to go down these paths and you’ll be in front of his room! Just make sure he doesn’t run away, okay?”

Ortho even gave you a little note that straight up looked printed. A clear map of where Idia’s room is.

“Well, thanks,” you turned around to properly face him but Ortho was already blasting off into the sky with a wave.

You huffed out a laugh, just because the whole interaction was ridiculous, and went on your way. You don’t really have early morning classes to be late to, anyway. You just came early to prepare for chasing after Idia.

As much as you would like to take the time to admire the hallways of the Ignihyde dorm, you’re too eager to get this meeting over with.

And then you’re finally in front of Idia’s room. You reach out to knock but the door pulls open, as though avoiding your knuckles. Idia was there, hood over his head like he was going to sneak around again like the first time you’ve met him. He spotted you in a second and slammed the door right in your face.

You waited a few minutes just to see if some miracle would happen and Idia opens the door on his own.

He didn’t.

“I’m not moving from here, if you’re wondering.”

You heard a sharp gasp and then a heavy, shaky, defeated sigh.

“…of course you’re not…” And then heard the slide of fabric against the door before a soft thud at the bottom.

He sat down, and so you got yourself comfortable as well.

“So,” you leaned back on your hands, “you’ve been running away from me.”

“I have…” and then under his breath like he thought you wouldn’t hear, “…any normal person would give up but of course my soulmate would be more stubborn than that…”

You whistled and that caught his attention with a gasp.

“Hey, focus on me,” you knocked on the door for good measure, “Why were you running? That first meeting could not have been that embarrassing.”

“Says you,” his next words came out muffled, like he’s shrinking into his hoodie, “Of all the days to meet you, you just had to see me right next to a trash can like I was some kind of degenerate rat. Anyone would think I was a loser of a freak, stroking that wrinkled poster like that. Well, I’m not! Only true fans would love this series as much as I do. So if anything, you were probably seeing me at my best moment!”

“Huh.”

You can practically hear Idia deflate from behind the door. “’Huh?’ You say… Yeah yeah, think what you want, I can’t even begin to change it.”

You… have a doozy of a soulmate huh?

“Certainly didn’t help that you were flash banged me, almost made me fall down a ladder and threw papers in my face.”

Idia shrank further. “…sorry…”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Sorry!” It was a burst of a yell and you had to back up a bit, “I was terrified alright?! I mean, I played all sorts of scenarios and even made a game to prepare for this moment. I had all these scripts in my head and I thought I was ready to trigger the romance flag alright?! But instead, I was stuck in my own head and completely missed it! I messed up and I panicked! You have any idea how scary that is?! You weren’t supposed to see me like that! I was supposed to be at max level by the time I met you but instead, I’m just this unevolved mess!”

You opened your mouth but Idia cut in.

“Fate is inevitable, just as death is… I was going to met you regardless and I guess, I thought, that maybe I had more time. But I didn’t. So I just, wanted you to stay away until I thought I was going to be ready… Ha, either way, it’s my fault…”

…alright, how are you going to handle this? You’re not exactly the best when it comes to emotional comfort.

Well, may as well just use what you already have on hand. Or on arm.

“Didn’t Alexius von Tuveria en Ris think he was ready to rule his kingdom when he brought it back from the ashes?”

You heard a sputter. You continued.

“I mean, the dude was kind of young wasn’t he? Well, not like it matters, he brought it back and someone had to rule it whether he liked it or not.”

Then, you heard Idia actually honk. “No, that’s not what happened! Alexius von Tuveria en Ris wanted to bring back the Kingdom of Paradise not because he thought he was fit to rule it but because he thought it didn’t deserve that fate. It’s not his fault that he was put in that position when he brought it to life!”

Ah, there we go. Switching the subject, your best skill!

You egged him on. “But shouldn’t he have been prepared for that, then? The series did say that he likes to prepare for every thing imaginable because it was a kingdom he was reviving.”

“What the–that’s stupid! He can’t see the future! No matter how much he reads or writes, there’s no way he could’ve predicted that! And even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered! He couldn’t have stopped the tragedy anyway!”

“Oh that’s right!” you clapped your hands, “Thanks for reminding me. Totally slipped my mind.”

“As long as you know. I hate it when people don’t pay attention.”

Huh, he sounds huffy. That’s cute.

“Sorry, it’s kind of hard to remember with all the stuff that happens in the latest Red Sky Arc, where Alexius just–”

You heard a hard slam against the door. “No spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that arc yet!”

You closed your mouth, almost biting your tongue in the process.

A few seconds, then a minute, and then you burst out laughing.

Idia, meanwhile, was stunned. “W-what? What did I do?”

“No no,” you relaxed, “that’s just the loudest you’ve been.”

“I… I guess that was a bit too loud.” The tone in his voice made him seem bashful. “But I’m seriously not at that part yet. I don’t want to get a head start just yet.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” You pushed yourself up and dusted your pants. “I think I’ll be taking my leave here. Don’t want to bother you too much. I just needed to hear an apology and an excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

You turned around, stuffing the map Ortho gave you into your pocket. “See you later, Idia.”

“Wait!” The door slammed open. You turned around.

Idia’s hair was pink at the tips, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to explode. He did look like he was going to collapse though. Poor man looked out of breath.

“I-I,” the pink began to climb upwards the longer he looked at you, “I, uh, I happen to have that season downloaded… on my PC… so if you want to, you know, update your out of date stuff then, maybe you could, you know… watch it with me?”

His head practically disappeared in his hoodie and hair, but you heard him clear enough.

You could tease him, but you don’t know each other well enough so…

You nodded, “Sure, I have time. A lot of time actually.”

That one is a bit of a lie, but you just want to spend time with Idia. You have a number of excuses on hand anyway. You’ll send one off right before settling down.

“Huh? Oh, uh” Idia moved to the side, holding the door like it’ll protect him from his feelings, “C-come in then.”

You stepped inside.

[cybiirz]

ೃ⁀➷ DOCUMENTS

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : Seems like a certain Warden had tired himself out. Being the kind person you were, you chose to help, but you forgot how deceiving an inmate can be. He was no different…But at least he pays?

WC : 829

“Wriothesleyyy! I brought you something from Sigewinne. She says it’s for like, helping you stay awake or whatever,” You groaned out as you treaded up the stairs. Currently, you were holding a large box of medicine that you were supposed to be delivering to other inmates.

That was your punishment for getting involved in a little experiment that was supposedly forbidden in the fortress…Either way, it was tiring and you just wanted it to be done with.

Your footsteps echoed against the walls as you stomped onto the metal stairwell. Finally, you reached the top, and with a lack of breath might you add. Who the hell needed so much medicine anyway? Nevertheless, you kept your head low as you observed the different bottles inside.

“There’s a lot here, let me just find yours and…got it. Huh, this thing has way too many side effects! How the hell do you even—” You lifted up your head to look at Wriothesley, only to find him practically passed out on his desk. You paused and cocked your head to the side.

Suddenly, you had an idea and with a smile and a slight skip in your step, you closed in on the desk. Outstretching your arms, you held the box over the table before dropping the heavy equipment, creating a loud slam against the wood.

No reaction.

“Huh? So he’s really knocked out then,” You murmured quietly to yourself. You opted to walk around the table and slowly approached his unconscious form. You began poking his head, and to no surprise, no reaction.

“Jeez. You overwork yourself too much you idiot,” You whispered next to him. Glancing at all of his papers, it took less than a second to see how messed up everything was. You sighed deeply and decided to help out this son of a gun.

It had been about an hour or so, with you going over the different documents and having to dig deep into his shelves to pair up each page to its designated folder. Covering your mouth, you let out a loud yawn before looking back over at the warden. Still fast asleep.

A small chuckle left your lips as you walked back over to him. Resting yourself against the table, you lifted your left hand and gently stroked his head.

“Well I organised each and every document for you. And since I went over each word written, I've seen you’re doing a good job for this prison. Even for inmates like me, you treat us well…But you are definitely paying me back one way or another once you’re awake,” After partially scolding him but mainly complimenting him, you began to get lost in a daze as you stared softly at the man in front of you.

Once you finished speaking, his head turned slightly, eyes opening with a small smirk splayed on his lips. You swiftly retracted your hand and looked away, trying to avoid his stare.

“Thanks for that (name). I appreciate you doing that but, you know I could’ve done all of it that whole time. I wasn’t actually asleep you know?,” He replied, his voice slightly condescending.

“Yeah well I expect payment back and—” Your arms crossed over your chest before you paused. What did he just say? “Hang on, you were pretending?! You little liar! You’re so lazy that you had to fake sleeping to get someone else to do your work for you?! Now I better get that payment before I rip your—”

You were quickly cut off as a pair of lips landed directly onto yours. Your eyes instantly widened in shock as Wriothesley lifted his hand and cupped your face. Slowly but surely, you melted into the kiss and held your arm up before resting your hand onto his shoulder.

After parting, the light sounds of heavy breathing could be heard from you. You tried to look everywhere apart from him, but he moved his hand to grip your chin, causing you to face him.

“That was, unnecessary warden,” You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That was your payment,” He responded smugly. Looking at him with your blood rushing to your cheeks, you noticed the slight crease in the corners of his eyes. He was smiling at you, and not one of mockery or a fake smile, it was genuine.

“Well then…I have to get going and deliver these to the other inmates. Thank you for paying me back,” You cleared your throat before moving away from him and picking up the box. You left his medicine on the table as you made sure to secure the lid of the box. He crossed his arms over his torso as you began to descend down the stairs.

“(Name). Come back again and I'll be sure to repay you for whatever documents you organise for me,” Wriothesley’s voice had a somewhat teasing lilt to it, but it was evident he was serious. You rolled your eyes and simply scoffed at him before taking your leave.

But who were you to deny such a special treat?

A/N : Love me a little overworked man. But anyway, it’s finally my half term so i’ll hopefully be posting small drabbles that appear my head. Series work is becoming boring so oneshots and drabbles will probs be my thing. I might finish off the Gepard series but we’ll see. Also i’m thinking of doing a revamp to this blog buttt idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave requests!

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Sally's Pedrolino (part 3 of pedrolino theory)

First of all, Sally is dressed as Pierrot, not Pedrolino. (See the other pedrolino posts for the reasons and a history of the character)

Cone hat, ruff, big fluffy button detail. Her hat and the makeup and ruff are all traditional Pierrot costuming. It’s interesting that she chose the costume of a character that is closely associated with the moon, when she is supposed to be either a star, descended from a star, or a fallen star.

It appears that I’m not the first to wonder about Sally’s link to Pedrolino:

https://thecolourfulkingdom.tumblr.com/post/731153175684546560/importance-of-pedrolino

I really like that detail about there being “9 visible neighbors.” That might shoot a hole in my tower as a character theory. However, Colorful Kingdom does mention that same moon imagery that you find with Sally, something I have discussed before:

There is plenty here to be making a case that Something about Sally’s character is related more specifically to the moon. The images of Sally with one eye closed really makes me think that there is a duality to Sally during day/night. Part of the reason is the sun/moon on the door, but is also because of the clock concept art, dividing the clock into day and night involving open and shut eyes and different colored eyelids.

In the HH book/record, Sally introduces the concept of what happens at night in the neighborhood.

“It is looking for neighbors who are outside out past the daytime to gobble them up whole. That is why so few live here.

It moves through the streets at night, but it doesn't break into homes. However, on rare instances, it will find itself with an appetite, but unsatisfied by its aimless wandering. Even the occasional, unfortunate insect that has crossed its path is not enough.

Those who have lived through the night say it isn't quiet about it either. They always say you can hear when it gets closer to you. Do you know what sound it makes? I hear it every night. You can hear it too, if you listen. Especially if you wait next to your window.

First, there's rustling in the bushes. Then, the scratching on the pavement, on the walls as it crawls up. Finally, if you're quiet, you can hear its guttural sound.”

So, an actual creepy story where we learn that Sally has created this scary story for the neighbors, or an actual creepy thing that happens at night. It could potentially be a story meant to keep the neighbors inside, but for what reason? This could also be an attempt to explain missing neighbors or why the neighborhood is so small.

In my post about clocks, I go into this in more detail, but there is a definite dichotomy between the ideas of sun/star and moon, and the only timepiece to survive, Eddie’s watch, is clearly delineated between day and night.

This makes me think that there is something out there at night. I’ve also discussed in that post hints that we have gotten that there are people missing from the neighborhood:

• Where is Mama Beagle? (I know we saw her for Homewarming, but I’m not sure if that is current)

• Where are Julie’s siblings? They were important enough to have their own art in a book.

• “Nine visible neighbors” So are they invisible or no longer with us?

• Sunny was an original character and is no longer in the group. Perhaps we lost Sunny in an in-universe way, as opposed to written out.• Sally’s home and early buttons reference a sun and a moon

• This image has those buttons I was talking about.

This feels so much like Sally pointing directly at it and telling us that we are missing what happens at night. She really identifies the night beast’s actions and feelings too.

Have we seen anything that brings attention to the time and going home?

New idea, in terms of Eddie. “9 visible neighbors” could also lead to the idea that some are buried.

This picture is something I’ve shared before:

And this image has both Eddie and Sally. Hmm. Anyway, this is the item that is labeled what looks like “D” but with other letters mashed on top of it. There was obviously something missing here, so playing around, I was able to find this image. At first, I was convinced that this was some kind of Moonheaded man, the waxing gibbous type.

Now, though, I’m more of the mind that this is Sunny. Sally replaced Sunny, and Sunny is blue/teal. She is called a star, but I think her look is much more like how children draw the sun (which is a star).

He feels too bright to be the moon, and also, too green to be considered blue.

Also, the moon does not produce light. It is reflected sunlight. https://science.nasa.gov/moon/moonlight/ That makes it even more interesting to think that Sally is both, because she is producing the light, but it is also reflecting in another character that is connected with the moon?

What we know:

• Sally chose Pedrolino as a costume, despite Harlequinn (Arleccino) being the much more recognizeable character

(and I think you could argue the more fun, as Harlequin usually comes out on top and doesn't have the seriousness that Pedrolino does.)

Sally chose to wear a costume that belongs to a later iteration of the character. Either Sally is not as knowledgeable as she seems, or there is another reason for this. (Though Eddie recognizes it as Pedrolino, not Pierrot, from his book.)

I think when considering this difference, the author's/team's possible motivations have/has to be important.

• Pierrot is associated with the moon, specifically responding to the changes to the moon with changes in behavior

• Pierrot is focused on love, and the expression of the moon’s influence can be mental illness, but could also be a lovey dovey dopey experience (the word lunacy/lunatic comes from the belief that changes in the moon could make someone act insane)

• Sally has definite associations with the moon, with repeated symbols telling us that she is associated with the sun and the moon.

• The moon’s light is reflected from the sun

• Not discussed, but in pre-website lore, Poppy and Sally are an item.

• Sally is a singer, so are later versions of Pierrot

There is a female version of Pierrot, Pierrette. As little as most people know about this thing, Pierrette would be as good a character to choose as anyone.

• Pierrot is commonly known from the operatic (style?) performance, Pierrot Lunaire, which is a kind of anthology of music from the 1900’s. There may also be a separate opera, as you do see Pierrot as a role that a character plays in the Marx Brothers’ film, A Night at the Opera.

I think it is telling that Sally chose Pedrolino as opposed to Pierrot. She is dressed in a more classic Pierrot costume, but doesn’t have the lute and is not doing any kind of mime. You would expect Sally to get those details right, as a show offy theatre person (takes one to know one).

And why is Eddie the only other person to know what this is? He said he was reading about it in the post office. The only person we have seen with books (I think) is Frank. So does Eddie have book, did he get it from Frank. If so, where does Frank get his books? I think all of Franks books we have seen are about bugs. Is it a magical thinking kind of thing, or does Eddie bring books from our reality? Eddie delivers shipments to Howdy that we have seen, and Barnaby gets mail from outside the neighborhood, so are those from here or is it from some fictional location there?

All this to say, I do think that we can establish that this is giving us a strong hint about Sally's association with the moon and a potential importance of the day/night split and the nature of the neighborhood.

I am great at writing history, but less great at making the connections. I think there is still too much missing for me to make a reasonable guess as to what Sally's true nature is, but I definitely think that Sally's moon will make an appearance at some point and help us to understand what is happening in the neighborhood. I am confident that the moon will appear.

Since it has been useful to this point, a few notes from tv tropes.

God of the Moon--

Thus, fiction and mythology alike often personify it or associate it with a patron deity. Mirroring the moon's nature as a luminous body in a time of darkness, lunar deities can have complex relationships with the night and dark forces. On one hand, they may themselves be associated with darkness, the nighttime hours, and the things that dwell within them. On the other, they may instead be portrayed as standing against these things, providing safety and illumination during an otherwise dark and terrifying time and warding away the terrible things that lurk during the dark hours.

(required by law)

In personality, lunar deities are often portrayed as mercurial, changeable, and shifting, mirroring the constantly changing face of the moon itself. They also tend to be associated with cycles, such as the lunar phases and the tides. They may also have ties to madness, illusions, and mystery.

Under "Lunacy"

The Moon does things to people. Makes women crazy, drives the lunatics wild, or maybe is the external power source for some supernatural powers. The full Moon might bring out the monster in someone, or a new Moon may bring the human out of a monster. It may be tied to illusions, metamorphoses and inconstancy, mirroring the Moon's constantly cycling phases. In general, the Moon is often a catalyst in magical things.

"Night and Day Duo"

The elemental forces of day and night have always been considered polar opposites. The day, ruled by the sun, is bright and inviting. The night, ruled by the moon, is dark and often considered mysterious. It's no surprise that when two characters have abilities or traits based on these forces, they form a duo of Foils.

Despite their inherent differences, these characters usually form a team rather than fight in opposition. After all, keeping the balance is necessary in works that believe in The Sacred Darkness and Dark Is Not Evil. As such, this duo typically works together, even if it's just an Enemy Mine.

Share ideas about Sally and Pedrolino with me, and I'll update as ideas come in. I say Sally is Pierrot and Pedrolino is just a red herring to delay her association with the moon.

I might look at some other interactions between Sally and Eddie, as they seem to have a bit more to dig through.

[jjunieworld]

07. wtf is your issue? ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ half written, half texts. word count: 2.6k

the walk wasn’t that far from your dorm room to sakura’s house. you and your friends all decided to walk so you could all drink, but thinking about it, you realize this may have been a bad idea. five super drunk people walking home in the middle of the night on the roads? yeah… the idea wasn’t your brightest.

it doesn’t help that you also dropped your fries earlier in the walk trying to do a cartwheel, so you were still kinda hungry.

the five of you reached the driveway of sakura’s house, which was gated with a small crowd of people and three security guards. you look between each other.

“all this for a college party seems excessive,” jake says aloud. he was right. you would’ve thought this was some high luxury celebrity after party or something.

“for all we know, beyoncé might be here,” yunjin adds.

you wait your turn as the guards scribble things on clipboards, sometimes sending people away with annoyed looks or straight up crying. i guess you knew sakura and her friends were well off, but you didn’t know it was this well off.

finally it was you and your friends’ turn. the guard barely looked at you as he said, “name?” you got a peek at the clipboard to see lists of names along with a small picture printed next to them.

“y/n…” you trail off. “y/n y/l/n? these are my friends… sakura said i could bring them.” you motion to your friends behind you. he flips a couple pages, pen trailing down the page, and lands on your name. it had one of your highschool school pictures along with “FRIENDS ALLOWED” typed next to it.

you cringed a little at the picture, of all the ones she could’ve chosen, she chose that one? you’ll admit, it wasn’t your best photo, and you wished it wouldn’t see the light of day.

the guard stepped to the side and pressed a button that opened the gate. it gave a slight screech before beginning to move and the guard motioned you in without another word. you looked to your friends and they looked just as bewildered as you. stepping through, the gate quickly closed behind you and you heard the guard ring out a “next!”

“if i knew it was gonna be this high security and luxurious i would’ve put on a different outfit,” yeonjun says as you all walk to the door. it’s a big white door with a decorated semi-transparent glass accent.

the rest of the group murmur their agreements. you spent a lot of time on your outfit, not wanting a plain outfit since it was a party and not wanting an outfit that was so over the top you would’ve been overdressed and uncomfortable. you settled on a skirt that was designated as your going out skirt, it was a little shorter than you would’ve liked, and a nice long sleeved cardigan top so you wouldn’t get cold on the walk back to your dorm. you kinda wished you would’ve just went with the over the top option.

you could hear the music from outside and it only got louder as you went in. people were shouting over the music just to hear each other. bodies were dancing everywhere, red solo cups were strewn about, and some people were even in corners already passed out.

“let’s get some drinks!” hueningkai shouted, and you all nodded. there was a whole huge bar set up with staff working. and from the looks of it, the drinks looked unlimited based on the wall of alcohol behind them.

walking up to the bar, the group mainly got either whiskey or tequila. you weren't a big drinker, but tonight was a special case.

“dance with me!” yunjin said, pulling you with her. in turn you grabbed the nearest hand of your friends, which happened to be hueningkai’s, and pulled them with you.

the crowd was so large, you wondered how many people were actually at this party as yunjin led the two of you towards the center. it had to be at least three hundred people, maybe even more with how big the house is. you were only on the first floor.

you all downed your drink and let the music playing through the speakers flow through you. circus by britney spears started playing and you could feel your nerves melt away by the second.

i feel the adrenaline moving through my veins. spotlight on me and i’m ready to break.

“oh my god!” yunjin squealed and jumped a little. “i love this song!” she took you and kai’s hands as she began to dance. you both laughed as you joined her.

i’m like a performer, the dance floor is my stage. better be ready, hope that you feel the same.

in the back of your mind, you imagined the just dance dance to this song and it made you laugh a little. you’re surprised hueningkai didn’t start doing it the amount of times you danced it together. you glanced at him and could tell he was holding it in.

all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus.

you closed your eyes and threw your hands in the air as you danced to the beat. you felt someone spin you and opened your eyes as yunjin sang the lyrics.

you felt alive dancing in this small circle with some of your closest friends.

at some point between the end of the song and the middle of the next, you three decided to get more drinks, ready to speed this night up. you don’t even know how many cups you downed… two? three, maybe? all you knew is that you were feeling it now. the world around you was grainy and your head was blissfully clouded.

“what do you think are on the other floors?” jake asked the group, which had migrated to one of the couches a little away from where everyone was dancing. yeonjun shrugged, “let’s go look!”

so you all got up and made your way up the grand staircase towards the door.

on the second floor there were more people dancing, the music continuing through the speakers. surprisingly, there was another fully staffed bar. on the third, there were still a lot of people dancing, but a lot more people seemed to be either playing drinking games, or lounging around. another staffed bar.

“this floor looks more fun,” hueningkai commented and you agreed. the floor was humongous and there were doors to other rooms that you couldn’t see inside.

you pointed to the mostly empty ping pong table that had a couple people playing beer pong, “do you think they’ll let us join?”

when you all walked up to ask they immediately let you join. they were clearly very drunk and spilled the bottle of tequila on the table as they poured it into the ten small cups.

one of the guy’s handed you the ping pong ball, claiming you’re first, and you gladly took it. you were teammates with jake and the guy was teammates with a girl you were assuming was his girlfriend.

your goal was the top of the triangle as it was the closest, but who knows with the alcohol buzzing through you. you hoped the other team were more drunk than you were.

steadying yourself, you locked your eyes on the cup, trying hard to anticipate the amount of force you’d have to put behind the throw. you threw it and held your breath. you released it as you realized you overshot it and it landed in a cup in the back row.

“yes!” jake shouted as he jumped up and down holding you, causing you to laugh. the guy smiled and shook his head as he picked up the cup and drank from it. he removed it from the table and handed another ball to jake.

jake exhaled and bent down a little, completely zoned in. or as zoned in as he could be. he threw it and it landed in the center cup. “bitch cup!” the guy and his friends shouted, cupping their mouths. you raised your eyebrows, “bitch cup?” you laughed and he nodded.

“he has to shoot from his knees until he makes another cup,” the guy replied. jake turned a circle in disappointment, “fuck!” you heard laughter from your friends and joined them. the guy’s girlfriend took the cup and drank it, then discarded it.

she then took a ping pong ball and immediately tossed it. it bounced off the table next to the cups and bounced to the floor.

“yes!” you and jake shouted, high-fiving each other. you grabbed the ball and handed it to the guy. he took it, inhaled, tossed it, and then exhaled. it landed in the top cup.

“damn it,” you said. you picked the cup up and drank, immediately scrunching your face up when your tastebuds came in contact with the contents.

the round went on for a while until jake threw the ball and landed it in the final cup you needed. suddenly you were crowded by all your friends, jumping and yelling in excitement.

the game continued for about another hour, you and jake in the lead with four to zero. that was, until yeonjun got the final cup and eliminated you two. you picked the cup up, giving him a playful side eye, and turned to walk to the couch as you drank. you were absolutely gone by this point and you swayed from side to side, barely standing, trying to drink and walk at the same time. “woah there!” one of the guy’s friends said and helped you to the couch.

as you finally managed to connect your lips to the cup, you eyes wandered to the opening door, immediately connecting with soobin’s. the stare lingered for a second before you looked away, downing the cup. once you sat on the couch and were steady, the guy went back to his seat.

you could feel his stare weighing down on you as you saw him move through the floor with his friends out the corner of your eyes. he disappeared and you sighed. you decided to scroll on your phone as you waited for the beer pong game to end.

— SOOBIN’S POV —

anger rushed through him, absolutely flooded him. he wished that he didn’t drink what he did. maybe then he could push these feelings down like he’s been doing all day.

he needed to find sakura. demand to know what the fuck she was doing here.

soobin turned to his two friends, beomgyu and sunghoon, who were drinking out of red solo cups next to him. “where’s sakura?” he almost seethed. he had to hold it together.

“fuck if i know,” sunghoon replied, taking a drink from his cup. “i’m surprised you weren’t following her around like a lost puppy,” taehyun said, sitting next to him. sunghoon shoved him, causing some alcohol to spill on taehyun’s pants. taehyun laughed.

“she’s probably upstairs or something,” beomgyu added. soobin downed his drink and slammed the cup on the table, standing up. “woah… what’s wrong with you?” taehyun asked, shocked by the outburst. soobin gave a wry laugh, “nothing.”

making his way through the floor towards the stairs, his eyes landed once again on y/n. she was laughing at the fact that one of her friends completely missed the cup by a mile. her eyes wandered to his and she immediately turned and looked away, talking to some guy soobin didn’t know.

what the fuck? who the hell even is that? was she doing this on purpose? to make him jealous?

he had to stop himself from going over there. clenching his fists at his side, he continued to the stairs.

once soobin got to the fourth floor he did a quick scan around. like the previous floor, this one was also packed. a guard stood at the entrance. soobin paid him no mind as the guard stepped to the side and let him through.

towards the back, sakura sat on a couch surrounded by a group of girls, two of them the girls from yesterday. her head turned to him as he approached.

“well if it isn’t the man of the hour!” she smiled and took a sip from her margarita. the ice clinked together as she did.

“we need to talk,” soobin said, and turn on his heels, not bothering for her response.

he walked towards the center of the floor close to one of the walls where it wasn’t as crowded. he heard the click-clack of sakura’s heels as she followed, shouting his name.

sakura grabbed soobin’s shoulder and pulled him towards her so he would turn around. as soon as his eyes locked on her, he angrily asked, “what the hell is wrong with you?” she gave him a dumb look, which annoyed soobin more.

“what are you talking about?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“y/n,” he replied, “why is she here?” sakura dropped her arms. “i invited her for you! i even let her bring her friends.” she rolled her eyes at the last sentence.

soobin took a deep breath. “i didn’t ask you to do that.”

“i’m not seeing the problem.”

when soobin just stared at her, she she sharply exhaled and continued. “i invited her to help you out. i threw this party for you! so she can stop being up her own ass and you can win this bet! can’t you see that i was trying to fucking help you?”

soobin couldn’t keep in his anger anymore. if he wasn’t so buzzed, he’d be seeing red right now.

“i don’t need your fucking help!” he yelled, scaring sakura and causing to take a step back. he raked his hands through his hair and turned, making his way towards the bar that was on the floor. “what the fuck is your issue?” sakura yelled after him. he didn’t know. he really didn’t.

he waved one of the staff over and asked for something strong. from his pocket he felt his phone buzz.

fuck. fuck! soobin wanted to throw his phone.

why did he just do that? why didn’t he just leave the texts alone?

he knew why. all he was thinking about when replying was sakura’s stupid ass choices. that guy who y/n was talking to. wasn’t she clinging to him when he first saw her?

soobin downs his drink and asks for another, downing that too. fuck, he has to fix this.

like he’s on fire, he jumps from his seat and sprints down the stairs to the third floor. he looks towards the ping pong table where he last saw y/n, but she isn’t there. neither are her friends. he jogs up to the people he saw with them earlier.

“that group that was with you,” he says, ���where’d they go?” a girl tells him they left the floor about five minutes ago. shit, soobin thinks, i need to catch her before she leaves the house.

he turns on his tracks and runs down the stairs. second floor, nothing. he makes it down to the ground floor and frantically searches around.

spotting yeonjun with a cup in his hand heading towards the door, he runs up to him and grabs him by the arm. yeonjun turns to him, eyebrows furrowed. he opens his mouth to speak but soobin beats him to it.

“y/n… where is she?” soobin breathes.

yeonjun looks him up and down. harshly removing his arm from soobin’s grasp, he spits, “it’ll be better if you just leave her alone. nothing good ever comes from being involved with you and the people you call your friends.” with that, he turns his back on soobin and walks out the door.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: the ball dropped😨 quite literally… enjoy! i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before but please ignore the timestamps for this smau lmao

taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

[zharaely]

The Birth of a Hero was weird...

Putting aside the fact that it was actually written to be a guidebook for Kim Rok Soo, it was so obvious how weird The Birth of a Hero was as a 'novel' looking back, especially when you re-read the early chapters of TCF. It was weirdly detailed and descriptive about what should've been minor or unnecessary information if it was actually a novel.

For example, The Indestructible Shield, which was an ancient power that wasn't owned or found by anyone in the novel but just so happens to be in the Henituse Territory. It wasn't related at all to the main characters, but TBOAH went into detail about the ancient power's history, its original owner, its location, how to obtain it, and the response to expect once you feed the man-eating tree. I wonder whether Kim Rok Soo ever questioned why Nelan Barrow would write so much about something 'not important' while reading TBOAH, if whether or not the author just decided to ramble about world lore he made up but couldn't tie into the main story. Kim Rok Soo is better than me because I would've gotten really bored.

Also, TBOAH didn't just get into detail about the Ancient Powers either, since it also had a LOT to say about the Original Cale Henituse, his family, and the territory in general. From the very beginning, when Kim Rok Soo wakes up in the body of Cale Henituse, he goes to the bathroom to find the full body mirror the Original Cale Henituse had that was mentioned in the novel. That is INCREDIBLY random information to mention about a minor villain whose sole purpose was to get beaten up by the protagonist. But it doesn't happen just once. When Cale asks Deruth for an allowance, he recalls that the Original Cale also received a large allowance but the exact amount was never mentioned in the novel. Later on, when Ron serves Cale lemonade instead of cold water, he recalls again how the Original Cale hated sour things just like himself.

If he really was inside of the novel, he knew that there should be a large mirror inside.

As expected, the full body mirror was inside the bathroom. Cale Henituse, who had a lot of interest in his appearance and physique, had this mirror set up in here. Nobody else in the household had such a mirror.

The novel did mention that Cale received a large allowance, but it did not mention the exact amount. However, he could realistically understand how large it was based on the amount listed on the cheque.

He really is an insidious man. He knows that, just like Kim Rok Soo, the original Cale hates sour things. But he still chose to bring lemonade, which would take more work to prepare than cold water. [...]

It's pretty obvious by now that TBOAH went deeper into the Original Cale Henituse's character than a normal novel should have in just the first volume, like how he despised gangsters and scammers or how he had horrible aim when drunk, and his relationships with Ron and his family. Kim Rok Soo would recall reading about flashbacks to Cale being woken up by a servant that wasn't Ron which led to a ton of swearing, Cale breaking everything at his spot in the bar once, and Cale getting a scar on his side while drinking the night before meeting Choi Han. The novel also mentioned things that no one else but the Original Cale Henituse knew about, such as how he had high alcohol tolerance but just flushed easily which made people assume he was lightweight. if I were the one reading TBOAH, I would've started to wonder whether the author was planning to make Cale Henituse an important character later on (and maybe he was, but there were only 5 volumes).

The Henituse Family wasn't mentioned as much as Cale was, except for how people pushed the 15-year-old Basen to be the head of the family and how Basen started acting as the family's successor since 2 years ago, but it's odd enough that Nelan Barrow decided to describe characters that Choi Han never even meets (if we assume he only encounters Cale and Deruth and no one else in the family). There were even descriptions of the slums in the Henituse Territory and the Henituse Family business, like???

All of it further cements the fact that The Birth of a Hero was very much a guidebook written for Kim Rok Soo, who was going to swap bodies with Cale Henituse, and to help him adjust to his new life and plan for the future. The novel was fucking suspicious from the start!!!