#I’ll try to keep it vague and not reveal to much but. At least they were with each other when she shattered

[noxchievous]

Doodles of Tanzi + her old pearl. Spoiler .. Pearl does not make it to Era 2

[rambling-at-midnight]

Please Come Home

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.

Word count: 3.3k

TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults

Your spare key is missing.

Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?

When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.

When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?

You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?

Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.

At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.

You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.

In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?

I think I lost it.

I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?

Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.

I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.

I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you

I love you, too.

A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.

That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.

You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.

It lulls you into a false sense of security.

You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.

With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.

You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.

The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.

Your phone isn’t on the counter.

You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.

Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?

It’s not.

You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.

Still no response from Jason.

You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.

The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.

The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.

And now they’re gone.

Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?

He doesn’t respond right away.

Jay, this isn’t funny.

Still nothing.

Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.

Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.

You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.

You go straight to voicemail.

You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”

His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.

You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.

You chew on your thumbnail.

Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.

He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?

You call Jason again.

Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.

Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.

No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.

Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.

Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.

Empty.

You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.

There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.

You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.

Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.

You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”

“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”

“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”

“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”

A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.

You scream.

Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.

He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…

Right into a stranger’s chest.

There are two of them?

An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”

You stab him in the stomach.

Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.

“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.

The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”

“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.

“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”

Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.

Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.

The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.

Where is Jason?

You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.

The man’s ugly face explodes.

You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.

More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?

It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.

Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.

Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.

Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.

You know those gloves.

Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.

Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.

You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.

You wipe it away.

Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.

You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.

Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.

You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.

Oh, God. Your best friend.

You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.

Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.

She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.

Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.

“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.

“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”

“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”

"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.

He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."

"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."

You nod numbly.

Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet—he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.

He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"

As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.

Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.

They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.

He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"

You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.

"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."

"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.

Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."

You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.

When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"

As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.

True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.

You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.

"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.

He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.

When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."

"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."

"I could feel that something was wrong."

Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"

"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."

Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.

Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."

Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.

Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.

You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.

DC taglist:

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[devildom-moss]

PDA - kissing their cheeks (the side characters)

What happens when MC decides to kiss their cheek around others? It couldn't possibly go wrong, right?

(Thirteen x gn!MC) (Raphael x gn!MC) (Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +1,400

Thirteen

“You didn’t.” That was all you could say when Thirteen set a small box from Madam Devian’s and a large drink topped with whipped cream, maple syrup, crumbled cookies, and cinnamon down in front of you.

“Oh, but I did,” Thirteen refuted with a grin before she eagerly opened the box to reveal an adorable mini cake. It was the perfect size for a reaper to share with an equally adorable human of her choice.

“OMG,” Asmo squealed, “are those the early releases from Madam Devian’s new fall flavors? It’s all over Devilgram! You must have waited forever for those, Thirteen. You have to let me get a pic. Please?”

Thirteen kept her eyes on you. “MC is the only one I would wait in line for.”

So, sure, she didn’t get the cake only for you. Thirteen wanted to try it too. She had finished a drink of her own on the way to school. It wasn’t like she wasn’t just as excited about the new fall flavors, but the whole truth didn’t sound quite as sweet. A little half-truth was well worth it if she could put that affectionate smile on your face.

“Ugh, is anyone else super jealous right now?” Levi whined.

“The word you’re searching for is ‘disgusted,’” Mephisto corrected him.

“No. ‘Jealous’ sounds right to me,” Satan disagreed without putting his book down.

You ignored their complaints and focused all your attention on Thirteen. She didn’t like to make a big show of how much effort she put into making you happy, but that only made your affection and joy overflow. You wanted to pepper her with kisses and flood her ears with I-love-you’s. You wanted to, but you had to play it cool.

You got to your feet and leaned over the desk to kiss her cheek. The backs of your fingers caressed her other cheek as you did. “Thank you, Thirteen.”

Despite her internal joy, her smile dropped from surprise, and she froze up. Thirteen was pink in the cheek. When you pulled your hand away from her, she quickly grabbed it before it returned to your side. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of your hand with a smirk so wicked it overshadowed her blushing. As she rose back up, she instructed you, “now sit down, and I’ll feed you.”

Raphael

Luke had caught Asmo journaling between classes and took particular interest in the cute stickers Asmo had scattered on the table in front of him. Asmo offered to let Luke have whichever sticker he liked the most. When you walked by and Luked asked if he could pick out one more to give to you, Asmo couldn’t deny the small angel’s request. Luke pointed to a cute sticker of a sheep holding a cupcake, and Asmo nodded before he peeled it off. They called you over and Asmo promptly placed the sticker on your cheek. When Asmo told you that Luke picked it out, you knew you had to keep it on.

That was much earlier in the day, and you had gotten used to it by the time you ran into Raphael on your way home. He had just finished up some shopping, and he was delighted to spot you from across the street – although it didn’t show on his face much. As he approached to greet you, his brows furrowed.

He was looking at you like you had just clucked like a chicken or something. You hadn’t done anything weird yet – at least not to your knowledge.

Raphael tapped at his cheek with the same strange look on his face. Confused, you shrugged and closed the distance between you to kiss his cheek. You stepped back, hoping you had satisfied the vague criteria. You didn’t expect him to laugh at you. He started out slowly, as if each stifled laugh was trying to break through the wall of his stoicism, and it built up until he was covering his mouth, and his shoulders were shaking.

How unexpected. The surrounding demons on the street were far more distracted by an angel laughing than they were by you kissing his cheek. His reaction flustered you. Why was he laughing? Isn’t that exactly what he asked for? Raphael collected himself and shook his head before tussling your hair. “Honestly, MC. I was just wondering what you were doing with a sticker on your cheek.”

“Oh gosh.” That’s embarrassing. “I forgot about that. Asmo put it there. Luke picked it out, and I couldn’t bring myself to take it off.”

He sighed, understanding the sway the small angel had on anyone with half a heart. Raphael locked his arm with yours and began to drag you off in another direction. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?” you asked.

“I’m taking you back to my room. You seem to be in the mood to offer kisses to anyone who even hints that they want one. I’d like to monopolize on the offer – if you don’t mind.”

Some angel he was.

Mephistopheles

You and Mephistopheles took a second to catch your breath before you stepped out of the supply closet of the RAD Newspaper Club room. The sound of his moaning and panting still rang in your ear as you watched him button his coat up.

He had caught your arm in the hallway on his way to the student council room, and wherever you were going, he figured you could both afford to be a few minutes late. After all, Barbatos did tell him to stop by at his earliest convenience, and what was more convenient than a few minutes after he had the opportunity to conduct an exclusive investigation – off the record, of course? A couple of minutes was hardly enough time to explore every angle, but it would satisfy his curiosity for the time being. Mephisto didn’t know why he had justified his desires in his head with such obscured, coded language – as if someone was going to ask him what had happened, and he was going to need some suspicious response that would only hint at what he got up to with you.  

You smoothed the creases in your clothes out as you walked with Mephisto towards the student council room. It was on your way to the library, anyway. Mephisto raked his hands through his hair, hoping to tidy up the disheveled state you had left him in. Why did you always have to unravel him?

He was too embarrassed by his feelings for you to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. He wouldn’t admit it to a single soul, but he was afraid to touch you in front of anyone. Did he even have the right to do that? So, when you both walked into the council room and you stopped him just to straighten out his hideous tie, Mephisto froze up. Barbatos, who had been expecting Mephisto to arrive alone, shot a glance at Lucifer as the scene unfolded. What an interesting turn of events. It was less amusing when you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Mephisto’s cheek.

Mephisto was quick to cover the smile you had forced out of him. He didn’t want you to know how happy you had made him by doing something so insignificant. Unfortunately, his voice betrayed him. You could hear the smile. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to touch you one more time before I go.”

“Uhm,” was all Mephisto could manage. He didn’t know what to say to you. Why did you have to fluster him? He was so easy to tease; you had to know that by now.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying in the library with Belphegor, MC?” Lucifer’s annoyed voice cut through the silence and directed your attention away from Mephisto’s burning face. He had never been grateful to be in the same room as Lucifer before, but there was a first time for everything.

“I’m on my way now,” you informed him before returning your gaze to Mephisto. “See you later.”

Barbatos waited for you to leave before he chuckled. He grabbed the file of poll data he had gathered for the newspaper club and walked it up to Mephisto. “These are for you. I know I told you to come at your convenience, but I would advise against such delays in the future.”

Mephisto’s blood ran cold. He didn’t need that coded response he had readied at all. Barbatos seemed to see right through him. At least that meant that Lucifer probably did too, and that was a win in Mephisto’s book.

(the dateables version) | (the demon brothers version)

A/N: I was going to get to these eventually anyway, but I had some time and @snow-fall1 asked for it next, so here it is.

[starry-blue-echoes]

So for some reason out of all of them my brain REALLY latched onto the Joseph being in Italy part of the Star Swap AU and I spent literally hours Pondering so-

to start things off, Joseph is…… he is definitely Having A Time. He freaks out slightly upon seeing that he doesn’t actually have his own body anymore, and the fact he’s still in Italy but in the future and also over the fact that he’s DEFINITELY. not in Venice

No very comforting.

So Joseph has his week of adjustment before the plot and it….. it goes. Mostly just him trying to figure out who he is now, why, and what to do from here. Luckily he finds Giorno’s wallet and student ID so he at least has a place to stay, but it’s a bit weird because he has to get used to this new, much smaller body as well as all the new technology. He still practices his Hamon whenever he can out of habit, and decides that perhaps he should try making his way to Venice and Air Supplena Island eventually.

Of course, Joseph also realizes he needs money. The lira in Giorno’s wallet is only going to last so long and he needs to keep what little strength he has.

And this is how the chaos of the plot starts. Joseph scamming tourists and accidentally pisses off the local mafia by accidentally killing Luca with Hamon when he tries to take a swing at him. A few hours later after dodging the weird shirt grey haired kid he and Bucciarati fight, BUT it’s very different from canon.

See, I want to play around with the idea of Joseph having Hermit Purple, but it’s not fully manifested yet. He still experiences the Stand Magnetism and sometimes sees vague ripples in the air, but he can’t actually see Stands. Think like how Trish was before Spice Girl manifested but on a much weaker scale. So Joseph gets the feeling there’s something there, but he has no idea what

But yeah, they fight and Joseph still wins by using a bit of Hamon for the heavy lifting and his own intellect to outsmart and talk Bucciarati down. I’ll admit the details about the next bit are….. a bit vague, but he still goes through the Polpo Black Sabbath Joining Gang Eventual Murder thing, all without getting stabbed by the arrow. He meets the gang, probably pulls some “your next line is-” shenanigans just to mess with people. He’d definitely notice Abbaccio’s trick before he’s offered the cup, so maybe that’s how he circumvents having to drink it

And then they get to the boat and fight Zucchero, and this is when some of the insanity begins.

So it’s gotten to the point that it’s just Joseph, Abbaccio and Bucciarati left, and Abbaccio expresses his desire of not revealing his Stand to Joseph…… only to be met with the response of “it’s not like I could see it even if I wanted”

Naturally, this causes them to pause and stare. Bucciarati then questions Joseph on what he means by this.

Joseph clarifies that he doesn’t have a Stand.

More silence……. And then Bucciarati questions him a bit more frantically citing the yellow lighting and how he’d predicted what everyone would say. Joseph vaguely says “oh that’s something else. Still not a Stand”

Then Abbaccio uses Moody Blues to flick him in the face

As expected, Joseph can’t see Moody and has no idea what just happened. So Abbaccio reluctantly uses Moody to look at things. (For added chaos what if Joseph’s able to figure out what Moody does anyways)

And this next part is actually inspired by when I was talking about this AU with an irl friend. So they still beat and capture Zucchero followed by some Torture Dance Time….. and then they realize that Zucchero had successfully radioed his comrade about where they were going and when they’d get there

Naturally they start worrying and debating about what to do. Narancia even suggests using Aerosmith, but it’s shot down because of the collateral and they’d have no actual way of knowing if they hit the guy they were after.

Then Joseph asks how far away they are, as well as the direction.

He squints off into the distance, clearly doing some kind of mental math, before nodding.

“yeah I can make it”

Then he starts taking his shoes off.

Naturally this sparks questions, which he simply responds with “I get better conduction when I’m barefooted”

And that just sparks even more questions, but he doesn’t get to answer any of them because he just.

Jumps off the boat.

only instead of splashing into the water like they all expected…… he lands on top of it

And then he just starts BOOKING IT in the direction of the island

I have way more thoughts, but this post is starting to get long so to be continued >:D

[rosy-fox-art]

Modern Prometheus [Frankenstein AU]

“The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature.”

[More Frankenstein au stuff. The new songs awoke my gothic literature phase from 10th grade. I’ll have to come up with a more handy summary of what goes down but for now:

Tl;dr: Set in the early 1800s, Whole decides to play god [bring life to something] because he has a need to accomplish something great and be special and doesn’t like how it turns out the first time around because the creature he reanimated’s eyes really really freaky! And by really freaky I mean they look like his! What the fuck! [I kid you not the eyes being creepy is part of the reason Victor actually abandoned the creature in the novel] . He runs away annnd locks the thing in there and goes to bed and prays it was a dream. The next day he wakes up and checks and it was not a dream. But it’s fine it’s fine heee puts a blindfold on that first one and decides to try again! While quietly ignoring the crime against nature he just committed. This first one is Heart, and he is not gods favorite but he does get to listen to Whole ramble and have a mild mental break, and therefore picks up Whole’s, at the time, erratic emotional behaviors.

But it’s fine it’s fine second times a charm! He can do better this time — the second one he gives mechanical supports since he couldn’t put it together well enough because he uh. Garnered a reputation for stealing body parts. This is Mind. Mind is a lot smarter only by virtue of the fact that Whole doesn’t make the same mistake he did with Heart and actually stays around to teach him things, Mind becoming invested and looking over his research— picking up on Whole’s more rational and logistical interests and behaviors. Whole seems somewhat content with this, and begins to wonder how to reveal such a scientific discovery to the public without horrifying the public in the way he was, at first, horrified. Though, a part of him knows this is still wrong. There is something of humanity—or maybe just himself— in them, but it doesn’t feel complete. There is an existential crisis about his own actions and hubris, but he pushes it off. Things are going well enough.

Meanwhile Heart grows increasingly jealous and volatile because he is gods least favorite that’s being vaguely left to rot, and starts picking fights with mind. Mind thinks Heart is petty and needs to let his stupid sulking grudges against Whole go. You get the drill . They don’t like each other very much. Heart attempts to kill Mmd at some point— though not with a gun. He fails, finding himself unable to do it.

Whole panics and restrains Heart, not quite knowing where to go from here. If they persists, he will not be able to stop their fighting— they’re stronger and bigger than him— and so he goes to make a third creature that’s devoted to him so break up their fighting and keep the other two in line. This is Soul and Soul is gods favorite, and Whole is Soul’s favorite back. Once soul is made, Heart is freed. Soul keeps heart and mind from fighting but idolizes Whole and tries to act like him— all of him— a lot. Trying to absorb as much of his identity as he can, idolizing him. Mind and Heart dislike soul, Mind partially feeling now just as replaced as Heart, but not being nearly as vocal or volatile about it. It’s around this time Whole begins to wonder if, perhaps, these three would be more palatable to the masses under the guise of something pleasant such as performance. Further shenanigans ensue.

This is the basic setup. I haven’t shaved it down to fine plot details, and had to deviate a bunch considering the abundance of characters in the novel vs the not-so-many characters in the CCC and my unwillingness to engage with both the love interest in Hidden in the Sand and the romance plot of the original novel. So you get three fucked up little guys instead!

[not7wu]

Chapter Eight:  A Trusted Friend

Recap: You accidentally eavesdrop on an argument the boys are having about you. Seems there's much more they're keeping from you than you realized and they're actively keeping you in the dark. Betrayal fresh on your mind, you become friends with Hybe janitor, Jihoon. He agrees to look for info on Kim Cho-hee and you will fund his search for his half-sister. Your scheduled wallowing is interrupted by Jin who ends up telling you his love story.

A warm cloud of fresh cooked rice and something aromatic wakes you.  Patting the space next to you, you crack your eyes open.  Jin is no longer beside you, which is probably for the best.  There’s something about the night that makes you brave, but the light of day is much too jarring and exposing.  He has an early schedule today, so you don’t know which of the members are invading your space.  ‘Invading’.  It remains to be seen whether that’s a harsh or apt word, but you had been hoping to have some time for yourself until dinner with Jungkook.  You’re not ready to face anyone so early in the morning before you have time to mentally armor yourself.

You don’t know what time it is, but you sit up and stretch.  It must be well into the morning because the muted sunlight glows through the window shades.  Dishes clink as you approach the living area and you find Hobi setting cutlery next to breakfast for two on the coffee table.  He catches sight of you and laughs at your yawn.  

You don’t want to read too much into this breakfast, but you can’t help feeling Hobi is here with an agenda.  You wish you could relax and soak in the peaceful morning, but your guard is up, waiting for whatever misdirection may come your way now knowing that Hobi is the number one instigator of keeping you in the dark.  

“Come eat.  We had leftover Samgyetang, so I thought if your headache is still bothering you, you might like some.”  He gestures for you to approach, so you sit cross-legged across from him.

“Thank you for the meal,” you say with the best smile you can muster, and the both of you dig in.  

Out of all the members, Hobi’s guard is up against you with his ability to read through your machinations.  All the other members take you at face value for the most part, but he’ll be the one you can fool the least.  If you had known it would come to this, you wouldn’t have flouted your verbal talents to Hobi that first day with Namjoon.  You prepare for battle with a deep breath and place a piece of chicken in Hobi’s bowl of rice.  

“So what’s up?  I didn’t expect to see you today with your schedule.”  

“I just wanted to check in cuz’ it seemed like you’ve been off lately.  We never did get to have that slumber party.”

Your nerves spike because it feels like he’s fishing.  “I did tell you guys that I was already exhausted.  Maybe we can try again soon?”

“That’s right.  You mentioned you had lunch with Jieun-noona and a friend?  How’d that go by the way?”  

Hobi completely skips over your question and you’re alarmed at the sudden change in topic.  Does he know about Jihoon?  You don’t want to reveal your only outside ally.  

“Lunch was good.  I got plenty of rest,” you say vaguely.  “Actually, I feel like I should apologize to Areum-unnie about rescheduling dinner, but I don’t have her number.  That’s strange though because she mentioned I should have it.  Could I get her number from you?  You talked to her, right?”

Even though this back and forth has you dancing on your toes, you carefully observe Hobi as he eats.  He looks unbothered, savoring his food and placing bites he thinks you’ll like in your bowl.  He wipes his mouth in thought.

“I don’t know her number off the top of my head, so I’ll text it to you later.”

“Sure.  I know how busy you are.  Thank you, Hobi-oppa.”

“You’ve been busy too,” he notes almost too casually.

“Not so much.”  Where is he going with this?

“Well, you were so exhausted Thursday that you passed out.  We were worried when you didn’t show up, you know.  I was talking with the others and you don’t have to work.  You’ve got plenty of savings.”  

And there it is.  You thought you could avoid the topic of your ‘house arrest’ until Monday with Bang PD-nim.  You try not to let your annoyance eek out.

“I actually don’t know what I have in savings.  No one’s given me any sort of banking information.  Would you happen to know how I can check that out?”

Hobi drops a chopstick in his bowl, but he quickly picks it up.  Interesting.  That was a total shot in the dark and now a point of interest for you.  He resumes eating.  “We’re the POAs of your finances until your health issue is resolved.”

“All of you guys are my POAs?”  Look at that.  Something else that smells fishy.  

Hobi again completely disregards your question.  “Anyway, we’ve got you covered financially.  I think we’d all feel better if you took a break and just looked after yourself.”

“All of you already do so much for me.  I couldn’t possibly rely on your charity.  And I am looking after myself.  You guys keep your money and I’ll keep working.”

“We’ve seriously got so much money, we don’t know what to do with it.”

“Donate it,” you suggest, trying not to snap at him.  

The tension is now noticeable.  You wanna thud your head on the table.  So much for staying pleasant.  This whole conversation has gone completely off the rails.

“Y/N.  You okay?”  Hobi is giving you his full attention, pushing his food away.  Great.

“I’m fine,” you try to sound convincing.  You take a deep breath and look him in the eye, searching within yourself for some lingering affection you have for him and the members.  And the thing is, even with this sense of betrayal that has gutted you, you don’t have to look far for that affection.  It’s still right there.  It isn’t even really tangible.  This love you have for Hobi is as easy as breathing, only now it’s accompanied with a deep sadness.  

It’s too early in the day and too suspect to be so sappy.  Instead, you transform some of this tension into innocent brattiness and channel your inner maknae wiles on him.  

“I really wanna work, Hobi-oppa.  If I don’t have anything to do, I swear I’ll go stir crazy, and going to work makes me feel normal.  I really wanna feel normal.”

Everything you say is true, but you exaggerate your puppy eyes and pout.  Manipulative?  Yes.  Necessary?  Also, yes.  Hobi groans and tries not to look at you head on.  

“Stop it.  You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Please, please, please, oppa.  I promise I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

He makes the mistake of side eyeing you, but that doesn’t diminish the power of your pout.  Exasperated, he sighs, “Fine.  You win.  I’m just worried.”

You are ecstatic and do a little wiggle dance earning you a reluctant laugh from Hobi.  You can’t help sassing, “I appreciate you worrying, but I’m 25.  I’m a whole ass adult.  You know in some countries, I’d already be married with a baby at this age, or be considered an old maid.”

Hobi chokes on his rice and coughs up a lung.  “Geezus, Y/N.  Okay, I get it.  I’ll stop bothering you about work.”

“Sweet!” you celebrate with a cheeky grin.  You just won against Jung Hoseok and you feel invincible.  Today is gonna be a good day.  “You spending the rest of the day with me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a meeting with Pdogg-hyung, Yoongi-hyung, Joonie and the A&R team which will take up most of the afternoon before the magazine shoot.  We won’t be back before midnight, so don’t wait up for us.”

Happy with your win, you nod agreeably, suddenly famished.  The ginseng in the samgyetang is bitter, but the tart dried jujubes cut through it with a subtle sweetness.  You almost don’t hear Hobi when he continues, “Jin-hyung might even be later than midnight, so if you need a cuddle buddy, Tae or Jimin will be your best bet if they don’t both decide to smother you.”

You barely save yourself from sputtering on the broth.  Of course, Hobi knows all about your Jin sleepovers, and after what you heard the other night, he definitely isn’t a fan of your night time activities with Jin, no matter how innocent they are.

 “Sounds good,” you say neutrally.  You can’t tell if this is some sort of underhanded warning to back off or what, but you should have expected there to be more to this breakfast.  You live and learn.  Always keep your guard up around Hobi.  

—

Jungkook is a bottomless pit.  He made eight gimbap rolls that the both of you are eating burrito style and he’s already eaten three of them while you’re still working on your first.  You don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified, so you settle on being content that he’s eating well.  

You’re on a night time picnic complete with picnic blanket, picnic basket, and a curated playlist playing from a portable speaker.  You don’t need to put a show on for Jungkook.  The conversation has been easy from tattoo designs Jungkook wants to get in the near future to new artists you’ve found on SoundCloud that he might enjoy.    

You hear a ding and dig for your phone in your mini-backpack.  It’s the disposable phone you bought earlier in the day.  It’s a different model from your phone but with a similar body and phone case that you hope will fool anyone who doesn't look too closely.  Hobi going through your phone now has you wary of people snooping.  This particular phone only has one number.

Snacks: I’ve got something for you.  I think you’ll wanna see it right away, but I can put it in your desk at work if you prefer. Me: I’m actually out right now by the Namsan Outdoor Botanical Gardens.  Quick handoff? Snacks: I’ll meet you at the public restrooms in an hour. Me: Sounds good.  Thank you so much! Snacks: No need to thank me.  We’re friends.  See you soon!

“Noona?”  

You fumble with your phone and turn your attention back to Jungkook.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, Jungkookie.  I thought it might be an emergency because I don’t usually get texts.”

“Did something happen?” Jungkook asks, worriedly.

“No.  It was nothing.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but easily shrugs it off, throwing himself back to lie starfished.  You follow his example, the both of you stuffed.  The light pollution prevents you from seeing stars, but the moon hangs above you.  It’s the same moon you’ve always known, but you can’t help wondering if it’s new and different.  Has that dark spot always been there?  Is it bigger than you remembered?  You turn to look at Jungkook.  His bucket hat and face mask cover ninety percent of his face, but his eyes in shadow still glow.

“Hey,” you say.  

“Hmm?”

“Are you happy, Jungkookie?”

He doesn’t say anything.  A soft breeze wafts over you both.  The grass ripples in the wind, tickling your ankles.  What a beautiful night.

“I’m happy,” Jungkook finally says to the sky.  “But most of the time, I feel nothing.  I’m happy with the hyungs and with noona.  I love my job.  And I receive so much love.  But yeah.  Most of the time, it’s just nothing.”

You can’t help but ask, “Are you depressed?”

He shakes his head.  “No, I don't think I’m depressed.  I think it’s like…apathy for survival?  I’m pretty sure the hyungs are like that too, especially Yoongi-hyung and Hobi-hyung.  And Jin-hyung sometimes…I think it’s because we have like really high highs, adrenaline rushes from performances and things like that, that the rest of the time it’s like an energy crash and we go through this numb thing dealing with work stress…privacy invasions…and just pressure in general, and it just takes a while for us to find a normal rhythm again.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, but mostly you’re proud of Jungkook.  It sounds like he’s put a lot of thought into this.

“Do you feel happy, noona?”  You owe it to Jungkook to be as honest with him as he has been with you, but you’re not sure how you want to answer that with how uncertain everything is.  You must take a while to answer, because Jungkook gently nudges you and says, “Let’s close our eyes.”

So, you close your eyes.  If you concentrate enough, you think you can see electrons track across your eyelids like old television snow inverted in black.  An optical white noise.

It’s weirdly soothing, and you find yourself confessing, “I don’t think I am happy, but I’m trying to be.  I don’t feel..real?  So what if my feelings aren’t real?  It’s just…hard to trust right now.”

“Trust what?” he asks tentatively.

You bite your lip, thinking maybe you’ve already said too much.  “Would you be upset if I said everything?”  

He blows out a rush of air.  “Lemme think for a minute.”

MAX’s ‘Lights Down Low’ is playing in the background.  Conversations and laughter can be heard at some distances with other park goers spaced out on the lawn.  And you swear you can hear the gears grinding in Jungkook’s brain as he reviews film strips in his head.  

“I’m not upset,” he finally says.  “Just sad.”

“Yeah.  I’m sad too.”

“Open your eyes, noona.”  You’re met with Jungkook’s smile.  “At least we’re friends forever, so it’s not all sad.”

You head down to the dance studio to eat lunch, Said the Sky’s ‘Rush Over Me’ playing on your headphones.  You’ve met all the members now and they’ve all reassured you that you wouldn’t be a distraction if you came down for some quiet time every now and then.  Well, it’s not ever quiet when the boys are there, but it’s a nice breather for you because none of them ever force you to drain your social battery by interacting with them.  You usually just sit in a corner with your headphones on and eat lunch while catching up on whatever book you’re reading.  Sungdeuk has even begun dubbing your corner ‘Y/N’s Reading Nook’ and the boys make sure to always leave it clear of clutter even though the dance studio sometimes doubles as a storage closet.  

Today, you’re surprised to see only Jungkook sitting against the mirror.  You wave at him, but he ducks down shyly, completely missing your greeting.  No matter.  You nestle into your corner and unwrap your triangle gimbap.  It always feels rude to be eating in front of the boys, but it’s not like you usually have enough to share.  Since it’s just Jungkook today, you place one of your unopened gimbap next to his foot since he seems distracted on his phone.  You retreat to your corner again,  happily munching your gimbap and open your book.  Your concentration is shot though because this song is a bop: ‘So, rush over me one more time, I will miss you.  Torn apart after tonight.  And we can’t fix it.”

Whoops.  You don’t mean to sing along out loud, but some songs just do that to you.  You glance at Jungkook, hoping he didn’t hear anything, but one look has you dropping your book and ripping your headphones off.  

“Jungkook?  What happened?  Did you hurt yourself?”  Jungkook is crying and you honestly don’t know what to do.  “What’s wrong?  Are you okay?”  

He hides his face in his sweater paws as you crouch near him.  

It’s been a few months, but you’ve slowly been integrated into the lives of seven chaotic men.  Your schedules are all over the place though, so each friendship is at different stages.  You’re already deep in with Tae and Jimin; the both of them are always quick to include you in every plan, bamboozle, and hoodwink.  You have more in common with Yoongi and Hobi’s personality, but don’t need to maintain constant conversation with them.  Namjoon has such a wide range of knowledge that he’s easy to converse with, but you’re not sure how well you actually know him as a person.  Jin has been pretty elusive, not that you’ve put in much effort.  Plus, your first interaction was a little rocky so you’re still wary of him.  As for Jungkook, he gets quiet around you, so you tend to do your best to give him space in case you make him uncomfortable.  That’s why you’re so out of your depth when it comes to a crying Jungkook.

“Jungkook, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.  Should I call Tae?”

“No!”  He grabs your sleeve, halting you from retrieving your phone.

“Do I need to get Sungdeuk-oppa?”

Jungkook wipes his tears and shakes his head.  He mumbles, “I’m not injured.”

“So then, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s stupid.”  You’re at a complete loss.  He refuses to look at you, and you feel compelled to hug him, something you don’t often initiate, but you’re not sure if you’re quite there yet with Jungkook.  

“I’m sure it’s not stupid.  Tell noona what’s wrong.”  You scoot back from where Jungkook is sitting to give him some space, but his grip on your sleeve has you falling on your butt with an oomph.  He drops your hand when he realizes what he’s done.  You want to sigh at this shy cutie, but don’t dare make any sound in fear that he’ll interpret it as condescending or pity or something worse.  “How about this?  I’ll close my eyes so no one can perceive you and you tell noona what’s wrong.  Afterwards, you can decide if you want to pretend this never happened, or you might even decide that this isn’t as bad as you think it is.  Either way, this will be a secret between you and me.  Just…give yourself a minute to think about what you want to say, okay?”

You close your eyes and patiently wait for Jungkook to say something, anything.  Jungkook is the youngest of all the members at 17 years old.  His energy is everywhere.  He can give Tae a run for his money when it comes to hyper mischief.  You do worry about Jungkook though because you’ve noticed that the pendulum can swing far in the opposite direction.  When he’s subdued, he makes himself very small like he’s trying to be invisible.  You understand the occasional desire to be invisible, so that’s how you came up with the idea to close your eyes.  Maybe if no one is looking, he won’t make himself small.  

“Do you like me, noona?”

The question almost makes you open your eyes.  “Of course, I like you, Jungkook.  Do you think that I don’t?”

“Well, I tried to say hi just now, but you ignored me.  You gave me food, and I tried to say thank you, but you ignored me again.  And then you sang and I realized you had headphones on and I got embarrassed, and now I feel stupid.  But sometimes I feel like you don’t like me.”

“I’m so sorry.  I do like you, Jungkookie.  I did try to wave hello to you before, but you didn’t see it.”

“Oh,” Jungkook sniffles.  “But I’m awkward and I don’t know how to talk to you, so I thought that’s probably why you don’t want to be friends with me.  You’re friends with all the hyungs, but not me.”

Your heart hurts that he would think this.  “Jungkook, can I open my eyes?”

You hear a muffled noise and take it for consent.  Jungkook is hugging his legs and hiding his face behind his knees, his big, wet eyes watching you cautiously.  

“Jungkook.  Did Tae tell you how we became friends?”

“Um, he said he kidnapped you from the hospital nursery and raised you like a pet monster under his bed, but that didn’t make any sense cuz’ you’re older than him.”

You sputter suddenly blinded by outrage.  “Oh my god, that’s what Tae said?!  What a no good rat monkey!  I’m gonna pummel that punk next time I see him!  What the hell!  And that’s the only reason why it doesn’t make sense to you?!  Really, Jungkookie?  You really think Tae could kidnap and hide a baby from eomma and appa Kim and they wouldn't know something is afoot?  Plus, do you really trust that lunatic to raise a baby by himself?  I really would be a monster.  Maknae, are you telling me I’m a monster?  Why are you giggling?  You think this is funny?  I’ll show you what’s funny!”

You attack Jungkook with tickles even though he’s already giggling, but now he gasps for air trying to pry you off him.  

“This is what you get for thinking any of that was true, you brat.  You’re lucky you’re so cute, otherwise I’d headlock you and give you a knuckle sandwich.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, noona!  I’m sorry!” he giggles.  

“I’ll stop if you bow and give me an apology.”

“Okay!  I promise I will!”  Laughing, you release him.  He promptly smacks to the floor in a dramatic floor bow.  “I’m sorry, noona.  Please don’t become the monster under my bed.”

“Why you little–” You attack him again, even though you get a kick to the shin and an elbow to the gut.  You’d much rather get injured for his giggles than be whole with his sadness and doubt.

You both end up starfished on the floor breathing hard and grinning at each other.  You lace your fingers in his.  You have no doubt it’s okay because it feels like you’ve you’re finally there with Jungkook.  “Thank you for trusting me with your feelings, Jungkook.  Can I tell you some of my feelings?”

You sit up and pull him to sit up too.  His head tilts curiously.  You don’t let go of his hand though.  You squeeze it, apprehensive about laying yourself bare.

“I don’t have any family.  I don’t have an eomma or appa or dongsaengs.  I’m–”  The word sticks to your teeth like taffy.  “I’m an orphan.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow even bigger, which you didn’t think was possible.  He squeezes your hand.

“So, Tae is kinda right I guess.  He’s my best friend.  My only family.  And I’m not a monster under the bed, but sometimes I think I’m like an alien that he’s had to teach how to be human.  I’m still getting used to hugs and cuddles, and sometimes I freeze up until I remember what I’m supposed to do and remember that hugs are okay.  So, maybe sometimes you’re awkward, but I’m more awkward than you.  Just like with hugs, sometimes I don’t know how to talk to people or what I’m supposed to do around people, so I just sort of keep to myself because I’m afraid of making people uncomfortable, especially around people I don’t know very well yet, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.  I haven’t been avoiding you.  I’m trying to wait until you’re comfortable with me in your space.  And if you need time to get comfortable around people, it’s not your fault either.  I think of you as a new friend, but it’s not a competition.  We don’t need to rush anything.  We can become friends however we want.”

Jungkook is looking straight at you now a little more confidently.  “Thank you for trusting me with your feelings, noona,” he says, testing the words on his tongue.  

That’s another thing you’ve noticed, how he mimics and tries on his hyungs’ personalities, mixing, matching, and choosing the styles he wants to dress his personality in.  You feel honored that he’s trying a bit of yours.  

You’re still surprised when he asks,“Can I hug you?”

“Anytime you want,” you say sincerely.  You pull him into a hug and he nestles like a bug in your arms.  “Friends?”

“Friends.”  

You sit back and beam.  “So, now that we’re friends, do you wanna hear about the time Tae got his feet stuck in some high heels and had to walk to my convenience store so I could cut him out of them?”

“If you tell me that story, I’ll tell you about the time the water stopped in the middle of Tae’s shower and he rinsed his head in the toilet because we were running late,” he offers, eagerly.  

“Deal.  Also, I’ve been getting weird anonymous emails at work and I think it’s Tae pranking me.”

“We could prank him back.  I know how to embed video links into pdfs.”  Jungkook’s innocent face suddenly lights with an evil that only the youngest can exude and you absolutely love it and him.  

“I think we’ll be friends forever, Jungkookie.”  

“Yeah,” you laugh.  “At least we’re friends forever.”

Jungkook looks back at the sky and starts singing along to whatever’s playing on his speaker.  You still see that shy seventeen year old sometimes, but Jungkook has grown so much in the past four years.  He’s less apologetic and more present in the moment, bold and spirited.  You wish you could have been there for the metamorphosis.

Your phone lights up in your periphery and it’s like you’ve been splashed with cold water.

“Jungkookie, I’m gonna run to the restroom,” you say, scrambling up.

Jungkook makes to get up, his face one of worry and confusion.  “I’ll come with you.”

“No, no.  I’ll be quick.  Be right back.”  You make a dash for it before Jungkook can say anything.  

It’s a bit of a trek to the public restrooms.  You and Jungkook had ventured deep into the park to find a flat patch of grass that didn’t have a ton of traffic to avoid Jungkook being recognized.  He had only brought three plainclothes guards instead of his usual team of six because he wasn’t going to be in the actual public and the park is relatively empty at this time of night.  You actually forgot about his guards until just this moment and you hope you’ve given yourself enough of a head start if one of them decides to follow you.  You think you’re in the clear though since Jungkook should be their priority.  

The restroom area is well lit, but you’re still startled when someone grabs you and pulls you behind the small building.  You find yourself in a little pocket blocked by trees and bushes with Jihoon.  He’s dressed casually in a blue hoodie and white washed jeans.  His hair is actually styled in artful messy waves that compliment his monolid eyes.  You catch yourself staring a bit, finding it strange to see him in anything but his uniform.  

“Holy shit, Jihoon.  You scared me,” you say, trying to calm your heart for more than one reason. 

Jihoon smiles sheepishly.  “Sorry.  I didn’t know if you were with one of the members.”

“It’s okay.  I’m with Jungkookie, so we have to make this quick.  What’d you find?”

He hands you a USB drive.  You try not to think about how soft his palm is against your fingertips when you take the drive from his hand.  “This is what I could find on Kim Chohee so far.  There should be a lot on there.”

The USB drive should feel heavier than it does in your hand with all its secrets.  Instead, it feels fragile like it could shatter into a million pieces should you drop it.  You immediately stow it in your pocket.  Jihoon’s mouth quirks in amusement.  

“How’d you get the drive?” you ask in awe.  You only recruited Jihoon yesterday and he’s already gotten farther than you have in two weeks.  

“Do you really wanna know?  Plausible deniability and all?” he teases.

“You’re risking a lot for me.  I should definitely take the burden if you get caught,” you say matter of factly.  

“Well, we’ll see what’s actually readable on there.  Some of the info might be corrupted.  I took that info off one of the security desks and I was paranoid and in a rush, so I had to yank it out when it was only about eighty percent downloaded.  Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.  This is more than I could have hoped for.  I’m honestly stunned.”

The both of you are encased in shadow, but the pathlights filtering through the tree branches almost look like stars in their own right, speckling Jihoon so he almost glitters.  You’re so overwhelmed by what could be your salvation at your fingertips.  You practically throw yourself at Jihoon, hugging him tight.  He gives a startled sort of yelp that you choose to ignore for his dignity, but after a second’s hesitation, he hugs you back.  He’s so tall and his hug is all encompassing, making you feel small and protected.  You know you’re probably crossing some lines with this budding friendship, but he’s done no small thing for you and you don’t know how else to truly express your gratitude.

“You’re amazing,” you say.

He laughs softly.  “You’re…something else.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As you should—”

“Noona?”  

You whip around to see Jungkook peering through the thick foliage, heart in your throat.  Shit shit shit.  Oh my god.  Panicked, you glance at Jihoon, his face set neutral as he sets a comforting hand on your shoulder.  Jungkook pushes pass the branches and bushes and looks from you to Jihoon.  There’s an excruciating ten seconds where no one says anything.  Shit, how do you explain this???

Jungkook then transforms in front of your eyes.  It’s so subtle, you could miss the minute changes if you’re not paying attention.  He stands taller, his posture anchored forward in his center of gravity.  His shocked doe eyes narrow into something hard and assessing, completely focused on Jihoon.  It reminds you of when he gets serious during solo dance practices, but this is something else because his whole aura becomes unforgiving.  He reaches a hand for you.  “Let’s go home.”

“Yeah.  Um, let’s just go.”  You look back at Jihoon and hope your face conveys enough apology, but you honestly can’t stand here a second longer with both of them staring at each other.  As soon as you grab Jungkook’s hand, he leads you through the foliage.  

When you clear the green, the guards are standing six feet away.  One of them is holding the picnic basket.  You avoid looking at them and trudge towards where your vehicle is parked.  Jungkook catches up to you and you can feel his gaze on you for a time.

“Formation Four,” he calls out authoritatively.

You hear a flurry of movement.  The guards have dropped back ten feet.  Confused, you regard Jungkook.  He’s looking at his feet as he walks, his fingers twirling his rings.  He seems anxious and you’re not sure what’s gonna happen now.  Is Jungkook gonna tell the members?  Are you going to lose your only outside friend, Jihoon?  

Worst yet, you feel this ugly ball of guilt.  This night was supposed to be all about Jungkook and you tainted it by sneaking off on him.  You fucked up because the person who deserves all this trouble the least is darling dongsaeng, Jungkook.  But you almost don’t recognize this Jungkook walking next to you.  He’s a mix of your darling dongsaeng and the man who stared down Jihoon and you’re not sure how to handle this Jungkook.

Of course, he completely derails the apology on the tip of your tongue.  He finally looks at you and the transformation is undone to become the boy that you know with pleading doe eyes.  “I swear I wasn’t trying to spy on you.  I was just worried because it’s nighttime and you shouldn’t be out on your own with that sas—you just shouldn’t be out on your own.  I’m sorry.  I swear, noona, I promise.  I wasn’t trying to spy on you.”

You’re thrown.  What is happening right now?  “Why are you apologizing?  I should be apologizing to you for being distracted.  This wasn’t fair to you.  Tonight was supposed to be about you and me and I fucked it all up.”

Jungkook’s smile is sad and you honestly want to jump off a bridge for making him feel this way.  He huffs a tired laugh.  “There are a lot of secrets with the hyungs.  And I hate it, but I’m part of that too.  That’s why it’s hard for you to trust, right?”

You nod, at a loss for words with Jungkook addressing this so directly.  

“Well, this is a secret I can keep for you.  The guards didn’t see anything and I’ll talk to them before they leave.”

“Jungkook, I can’t ask you to lie for me.”

“I’m not gonna lie.  When they ask me how dinner went, I’ll talk about dinner.  The end.”

“It still doesn’t feel right to have you keep this secret for me.”

Jungkook purses his lips.  “You heard us fighting the other night, right?  That’s why you didn’t come to the sleepover?”

There’s no point in hiding it at this point.  Everything’s gone to shit anyway.  “Yeah.  I heard some of it.”

“Well, Tae-hyung is right.  You need more than just us.”  Jungkook stops walking and pulls you in for a hug.  This hug hurts though.  It hurts because it’s not just you he’s holding tightly.  It’s your whole self, jagged edges and all, both of you bleeding. 

He pulls back and his normally open book face is unreadable.  

“I’ll keep this secret for you, but I need you to listen to me and trust me just this once, okay?  Can you do that?”

“Yeah, Kookie.  Tell me.  What is it?”

A million things flit across his eyes that you aren’t able to catch before his face sets in grim determination.  “Do you love me?”

It’s no lie when you say, “Yes.”

“And you know that I’m a combination of all the hyungs?”

“You’re still your own person, Kookie.”

“Yes, Yoongi-hyung, I know I’m my own person, but I’m talking to Y/N-noona, right now.  You know I’m a combination of all the hyungs?”

“Yes.”

“And a combination of you.”  His lips turn up and you smile.

“Yes.”

“If you love me knowing that I’m a combination of all the hyungs, then you love them too, or at least parts of them.”

You purse your lips because, well, you can’t deny that.  Just this morning you found your affection for Hobi had stayed constant.  Last night, you couldn’t sever the string connecting you to Jin.  And today, you see that Jungkook is now all grown up before your eyes with an iron grip on your heart that you doubt he’ll ever let go.

“Trust me just this once, noona.  Don’t give up on your family.”

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Taglist: @miksancheese @justamomnamedamie @the-daechwita-archive @alpacaparkaseok @whatamitoyou @nap-of-a-starr

A/N: I literally have no excuse for the late posting. I've just been out of it. No holiday cheer here. Seasonal depression and the boys are all leaving. Woe is me. But seriously, some of the characters are becoming self-aware and rogueing, so it's been hard going trying to herd them towards my endgame.

[commanderbuffy]

Hey! I’m quite curious about your approach to writing fics. Apologies if you’re answering this for the millionth time, but do you know the main parts of the plot from the beginning and map them out? Or are you kind of winging it with a loose idea of where want the story to go? What’s your approach like?

Also, how do you manage to be so engaged with your audience and remain so productive with your writing?! Your stamina is impressive to say the least.

Loving your Tanthamore fics. Thank you for sharing your talent with the rest of us for our absolute enjoyment. Got another big fan right here. Keeping an eye out for Ch12!!

Cheers, Kris.

ruby

Hi!!! Okay, trying to answer this as detailed as possible. So, for starters, I came up with a couple notes of broad strokes for the story. I tried to recreate this outline here, but don’t have the original anymore (as I’ll get into in a minute)

Initial Outline (roughly)

- each chapter: Jade pov, kit pov, 1-2 flashbacks

- Accident: kit pushed Elora out of the way to save her when sword-like structure fell

- Key themes

- New kit vs old kit

- Incorporating new kit (ex. good with kids)

- Vulnerability

- The gray area

- *spoiler thing*

- “Not in spite but because”

- Kit gets her memories back slowly

- Explosive reveal via phone (midpoint)

- Last chapter

- *vague plot details*

- *the exact last 5 sentences I’ll be using*

That’s about what I had for the first chapter. Then, as I wrote the first three chapters, I started expanding and changed it to a checklist and adding quotes, themes, scenes and plot ideas and checked them off as I incorporated them or picked chapter numbers for them based on my vague idea of 10 chapters.

Then, at I think chapter 5, I wrote a much more extensive outline for chapters 6-12 (which later became 13), that I mostly stuck to (except for switching the order of two chapters).

In terms of being engaged, it’s actually helped with writing! It’s so encouraging to talk to you guys about theories and what you like about the story. It helped shape it in some ways. There are scenes I massively expanded based on what I was realizing you guys were enjoying!

In terms of stamina, having 2 main days a week I write helps. It also helps that I always write a lot so I’ve built up that muscle and can write a lot, very fast, and I write relatively clean. And that’s only because I’ve been writing at this speed and volume for like 7ish years now.

Thank you Ruby and all you other readers for reading and encouraging me with your theories, ideas, and even horny asks. I can’t wait to share the last 2 chapters with you! I think you’ll be happy with them 💕

[showfallsecuritydev]

[AUDIO RECORDING #007]

[K is wandering, Cybork at her side]

K: finally, all the people are out of the woods. 

[robotic barks]

K: Yes, I know I said I’d be a cryptid, but not yet. I’ll reveal myself after something goes down again. Keep the conspiracies going, ya know?

[A unknown voice suddenly speaks up from a distance behind K, the voice has an undertone of static]

???: Conspiracies are always fun! Also, cool dog.

[K jumps about a foot, with an undertone of mechanisms as her head swivels towards the noise]

K: What the fuc-who’s there?

[A sound of mechanical joints whirring as someone leans out from behind a tree]

???: Hello there! I’m Iris, and I’m assuming you’re not a Security Hetch finally put out here in the forest to help find escaped employees?

[A small sound of focus rings adjusting and more mechanisms]

K: Eh, I suppose I am that obvious. No, I’m not. Given that you don’t look like the Taskmanagers, I’m assuming you aren’t Hetch’s either.

Iris: It was the talking that gave it away, but ah, technically I am “Hetch’s”, but only in the sense that anything Showfall belongs to them. I am from another facility, do you know of Squig? She’s my boss!

K: …fair. And Squig…she’s the one who plays Squiggles, right?

[Iris claps her hands together, making a rather noisy clack]

Iris: Yup! I’m here on a job for her, speaking of which… have you seen any purple-haired cowards in the woods lately? About this tall, probably throwing a temper tantrum? Maybe you know her, she was a Security Engineer, name was Mai.

K: Well, I knew her, back when I had an actual job. I was a Security Developer, so we had some interaction, but not much. As for seeing her in the woods, no. I’ve seen plenty of people: some cops, Mechanic, Katherine, but no purple-haired cowards. Sorry ‘bout that.

[Iris lets out a long static-filled sigh]

Iris: Shame, a chase through the woods seemed fun, it’s been a while since I last got to do that.

[Small mechanical joints whirr as the metal panels making up Iris’ body shift]

Iris: But a Security Developer? Seems like the tables got a bit turned on you there.

[rotations as the camera refocuses]

K: Suppose so. Wonder if that’s how I kept my mind. Or whether they just failed at making me a true Security.

Iris: Hmm… well just by looking at you I can tell they were pretty obviously trying to go for someone who’d be able to track any problems into smaller spaces that their big ‘ole TV head guys can’t get into. [Iris’s face plates snap into place] Iris: So, probably a bit of column A, a bit of column B. Tried to leave you with enough intelligence you’d be able to sneak around, but that combined with whatever knowledge you already had… Well to put a long story short, is probably why you’re walking around in the forest with that cool dog.

K: Suppose you’re right. You certainly look like you have experience in matters of Securities. [sounds of robotic arm movements as K scratches Cybork on the head] K: And yeah, he is a pretty cool dog. Named him Cybork.

[Iris lets out a small gasp] Iris: Cybork? Oh, that is just the cutest little name! But yes, a good… oh hmm, can’t remember how long it’s been. At least over 20 years. A good 20+ years of experience is what you’re looking at!

K: I always forget that Showfall’s been around that long. But you certainly look the part. Much more sturdy than these wire noodle things. [mechanical noises as K gestures vaguely around]

Iris: It really helps when you get to design it all yourself, but honestly it is impressive just how much the Taskmangers can do here even without any sort of external protection of their wires. But speaking of time, unless you have anything else you’d like to chat about, I should probably get back to looking for that purple brat.

K: Go ahead, and have fun once you catch her. I’ll be watching.[various camera whirrings]

[END RECORDING]

[writerrobinarnett]

hii it's always me! (this will be very long i'm so, so sorry 😭)

recently i was thinking a lot about the love square and how much dysfunctional it is in mlb (in my opinion at least) bc they put everything in the "last" season and they don't know how to write and i was wondering how you would evolve it to make those two (mike and will, obv) work without creating an unhealthy and unbalanced relationship. bc.

following the mlb's story we see that marinette likes adrien and chat noir likes ladybug. but for making their relationship balanced after a identity reveal they firstly make ladybug appreciate (in a almost romantic subtext) chat noir and make adrien appreciate marinette in the same way. bc in the numerous fanservice eps where they do a identity reveal and then they forget everything (not chat blanc) we see that marinette (as it should be) firstly is insecure and dosen't accept immediately that adrien is chatnoir. after some time she finally accepts it. then we have adrien- now. adrien always says he would've loved ladybug, whoever she really was. he dosen't care who she really is. so when he found out that ladybug is marinette... "well?? ok! nice! she's one of my bestfriends so that's nice!" no way dude. he IMMEDIATELY accepted that but he didn't love marinette for her qualities. he started dating her just bc she's ladybug and this is NOT OKAY. this is totally unbalanced and disrespectful to marinette. and the writers knew this. so, trying to "fix" everything (as usual...) they put in the basically last season that one day adrien woke up and said "ohh ig i'm in love with marinette now". and marinette woke up one day saying "wait... i like chatnoir now! and he also loves ladybug so i'm lucky this time!" and marinette's crush survived about two days. than marinette and adrien started dating (tbh... i liked how they worked as a couple but idk??? since the first season "ladybug, my love" and now???)

now. the whole point is. there will be moments where will and mike will start to "like like" their counterparts or you will build them in another way?

another question is: what do you think about the love square's building in mlb?

this came out very long, forgive me 😭

Great analysis of MLB! I love reading detailed and in-depth opinions like this one so no worries, it’s so cool to hear your perspective! I’ll share my incredibly long reply lol

The short answer is, yes, I am planning to show Mike and Will starting to “like like”their counterparts before the reveal. Now here’s the much, much longer answer lol.

First a WARNING: Some parts of the following explanation are a little bit SPOILERY, but not too much. Only if you are obsessive about having no spoilers. I’ll try to keep it pretty vague

Okay with that out of the way, I’m gonna share a lengthier explanation of my thought process for writing Strange and Miraculous Tales. It’s long so bear with me lol

So, obviously, Mike’s long-time crush on Will is gonna make the transition post-ID reveal relatively easy for him. After the shock wears off, Mike can transition pretty well into being comfortable with and/or progressing from platonic to romantic. (In my opinion anyway) Although, Mike is gonna have a lot to process before he gets to that point

Will is the difficult one. Obviously, there’s a lot of problems with falling in love as superheroes, since they can’t get to know each other properly. To combat this, when I drafted my initial outline, I decided that Will was going to start to see Mike in a different light (a more romantic one) before the ID reveal.

I’ve only showed this a little bit of this theme so far. I started off in the beginning (ch. 3) hinting that Will was demi and that he already thought Mike was kinda cute, but that he only likes people he’s known for a while/is comfortable with. I hoped to build on this over the course of the story, showing Will growing close with Mike (again lol) and giving him an opportunity to start falling in love with Mike, as they become close friends (even though Will doesn’t realize this is happening ‘cause he’s a little dumb sometimes). As the story progresses, Mike has also started lowering his guard and becoming a little less flustered, which also helps Will to get to know (and love) Mike more.

In case the theme is too subtle, here’s another example of one of the ways I showed Will starting to develop a minor crush (that he himself doesn’t realize yet): when Will thinks that Mike’s getting flustered is cute and enjoys teasing him in ch. 6. Will’s feelings towards Mike have been very, very subtle so far, but I intend to make a few, more overt references (of both of them falling for their counterparts) as we near the ID reveal. There might be other small references already in the story, but I can’t remember them atm. (Also, if you haven’t read ch. 20 yet, there’s a much more blatant reference to Will starting to develop feelings for Mike hehe)

As a side note: I’ve also tried to pepper in some of Chat thinking that Z is kind of cute, but dismissing the thoughts, because he knows he likes Will. For instance, Mike had a mini freak out about thinking Z was handsome/cute in ch. 5. And he also wanted to remember Z kissing him in ch. 7. What’s more, I will say… the time Z kissed him in Oblivio might be affecting Mike more than he’s let on so far 😉

To summarize – I’m trying to address the love square by having Mike having invasive, romantic thoughts about Zombie Boy, and Will developing some subtle feelings for Mike, before the identity reveal, just like you said.

Most importantly though, I hope you keep in mind that my version of an MLB ID reveal and byler getting together won’t be perfect. I’ve already tried to show them liking each other, but it might have been a little too subtle. I did my best to lay the groundwork for a healthy relationship, and I think I did pretty well… but I may have fallen short. (I try my best but I’m still regrettably, a human who does make mistakes 😅). What I’m trying to say is: I hope you can still enjoy the story, even if I don’t execute this section perfectly

Now! To address my thoughts on the love square in the show… I hope it’s not disappointing, but I don’t have a lot of thoughts lol. I am the kind of person who overanalyzes a lot (and often times I enjoy analyzing things), but when I’m watching TV, a lot of times I try to turn off my brain and tend to be forgiving, even when the writing is iffy.

The exceptions to this in MLB: (1) the reversal of the love square was so freaking disappointing to me. I had always loved MariChat before those episodes, because I believed that they could build a really strong relationship, if they just focused on getting to know each other as friends first (and that was the only part of the love square where they weren’t flustered fools). But the way the two of them completely fell apart in the show was such BS! Ladybug not being able to focus on her job as a hero, had me like, wtf guys! Bc Chat was totally fine when he liked LB, so why is it so different the other way around. And I don’t care if you promised yourself you’d stop liking Adrien for some (very BS) reason Marinette – if your crush suddenly likes you back and you still like him, why on earth wouldn’t you start dating him!?!?! (2) The second thing I hate in the writing is Lila, and the idiotic storylines where no one believed Marinette, and they all believed this random person, who just showed up, over their longtime friend. Stupid. And not fun stupid. Sorry for the rant lol.

Hope all of that answers your question! 😊 And I really hope that you aren’t thinking, “omg tmi” right now haha

[spiteless-xo]

do you map out your chapters before you even start writing or do you make up the most of it as you go along? really interested in your process <3

thank you for asking!! 😊 someone asked me this before, but i couldn’t really share much without spoilers, so i’m happy to have this question again.

plz see below for a big wall of text

before writing i just had a general plot line in mind of a love triangle with eren and jean where the boys are former best friends and everyone works together.

for arc 1 (ch 1-11), i pretty much just made it up as i went along. 💀 i knew i wanted to establish three major things: eren/reader relationship, jean/reader relationship, her issues w work and then minor things about jean and eren. i just wrote random chapters w those things in mind, leading up to the Reeves job.

for arc 2 (ch 12-26), i planned it around the 2 weeks in Trost and mapped out what i wanted to happen each day. my notes are super vague because i just use it as a starting point.

i’ve got a screenshot here w what my outline looked like for the chapters we’ve seen so far!! but i had to block out some parts because they were kinda spoilery.

as you can see, these are REALLY vague notes and they’re even missing some major plot points (like Eren almost dropping the L-bomb during sex), but keeping it vague like this helps give me more wiggle room to write stuff as my creativity hits and write scenes that i think feel natural.

i usually aim for at least 5,000 words for each chapter as my first draft. then when i go in and do edits a few days later, i’ll add more scenes or clean things up and that number goes up or down.

after writing each arc i also go back and reread the whole thing and try to stick in foreshadowing where i can! and as much as possible i try to foreshadow across several arcs and several chapters so the “reveal” doesn’t feel like it comes out of nowhere.

i hope that helped give you a lil insight into what goes on in my head 😊

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Genealogy, specifically my family’s especially, has been a special interest of mine since I was a kid. I have taken multiple genetic tests and gone through so many family stories and government records. Anyway, where I was going with this was, I got into contact with someone who is related to me on my dad’s side because either ancestry or 23andMe found we were “closely” genetically related. Probably only four or five generations back. Now, they were excited to find someone who was related to them and also clearly into genealogy because their grandparent was adopted and they had no idea who the birth family was. This is especially hard to determine because they were adopted in New York City about a century ago, not great for paper trails.

Now, my problem is that I was happy to help and have tried to find anything on that side around that time, but it’s been several years and I’ve only uncovered the immigrant ancestors from that time and no non-direct ancestors from that period. At least not on that side of the family. This has been infuriating because I live in an entirely different part of the country and my ancestors were pretty quick to move here. There was a brief stint in New York for at least one of them because that lady had to save up money to make the trip out here. You’d think “oh, there you go. A relative who immigrated at the right place and the right time to have a scandalous secret baby” except, the timeline doesn’t perfectly line up. She might have been there for a bit but as far as I can tell there is no evidence that she ever had a kid and that she even stayed there long enough to have one! “Okay” you say “did she come over with blood relatives?” I DON’T KNOW! I don’t know because any leads I’ve found were either never uploaded online (and I’m not taking a trip to New York any time in the foreseeable future, probably not in my entire life) and any possible hints I’ve found online were weak possibilities at best and all behind paywalls! I feel like a failure. Of course she had to have a mysterious grandparent from the side of the family I don’t know as much about. If it was my mom’s side it would have probably been easier with how crazy the Icelanders and their American descendants were about keeping track of that. Then again, it would probably be easier to find out with a family that crazy about ancestry. Gotta keep track so you don’t fuck your first cousin! (That’s not actually the only reason that it’s done but it’s a reason) and my grandma just casually dropped the fact that men had kids with people who weren’t their wives all the time back in the day and it was normal for Icelandic Americans in her community and presumably their ancestors (the things that old people just casually reveal when they find out you’re doing family research about a certain thing. Smh) My dad’s side doesn’t have that.

I’m just so frustrated, I gladly offered to help them when they asked because, hey, it’s a special interest and they are related to the people I’m already trying to learn about, why not! I’ll help. But the one possible lead I had definitely didn’t have a secret kid, it would mean everything else I’ve found just didn’t add up. All government and family info would have to be wrong about the course of events, about the timeline. My next course of action was to look into those immigrants (my dad’s family’s) relatives. Only, those are the people I’ve been running into dead ends for! They have been my most frustrating roadblocks. I have no idea who most of them are and what they got up to. The few I have a little information on aren’t the right ones to be related to my new mystery adoption relative. And almost ANY family on my dad’s side from before immigrating here are more mysterious than my mom’s side. I have little hints but they are vague and limited, while the few records I have found as possible leads are (unsurprisingly) in other languages (weirdly though many were in Dutch when the family in question are Norwegian and Swedish).

I offered to help, it’s a special interest, I love helping with finding things, and yet I have failed this woman. I don’t have the money to hire a professional and when my Icelandic grandparents hired one themselves for that side of the family (another thing they just didn’t mention until something I did reminded them that they had done it) that genealogist was looking online, found a family tree on ancestry that was very informative and thorough, which would be great for learning about my mom’s side, if the tree she had found WASNT MINE! No hate towards her but I feel very awkward at being one of the families new best information hoarders. That isn’t directly related to the struggle to learn how mysterious adoption woman and I am related though. I have failed mysterious several times removed cousin. Something I have had happen to myself and hate doing to other people.

[bejinyoung]

dear sister, moon jinyoung writes and reads a letter for his sister, moon sooyoung, for next gen

jinyoung has never been much of an academic. he freely admits that he probably should never have even graduated high school with the abysmal state his classwork and test grades were in. he thought that he would never have to write another essay ever again, let alone read his shitty work in front of the class (or cameras, in this case), and yet... here he is. a notebook balanced on his lap as he sits on the stool, trying to remain cool and calm despite being asked to pour his heart out for the world to see.

he prefers to keep his secrets. moon jinyoung grew up knowing better than to rely on anyone else and the world taught him to keep his vulnerabilities hidden away, close to his chest where no one could get at them. he wonders if he’s the weird one, if no one else had any apprehension about the task that was given to them. but there was no denying it. the best he could do is keep it vague, to say the things that he knows the show wants to hear instead of what he really feels. maybe it will come across as fake. he’s not sure that he actually cares.

“i wrote this to my sister, sooyoung,” he explains as he straightens the paper in front of him, smoothing the top page of the notebook with a hand as he prepares to read. he takes a deep breath. “um, she’s the most important person in my life,” he doesn’t want to tell the world his tragic backstory. not yet.

the young man clears his throat one last time before he begins to read.

“dear sooyoung,” he wets his lips with his tongue; is he too visibly uncomfortable with all of these nervous tics? “it’s been hard, hasn’t it? not just for me, but you too. i know i’m waking you up when i’m leaving to film early in the morning and when i come home from set late at night. you’ve had to work hard too. harder than me, maybe. at least i’ve been chasing my dream. thank you for letting me do this.”

he really wouldn’t be here without sooyoung picking up extra hours at the salon, forgoing his portion of the rent while his job at the studio is put on hold for this opportunity. she’s a saint, an absolute legend. jinyoung is sure that the long days and the empty apartment wore on her too. he’s lucky to have a sister who supports him not just with words, but with everything she has.

“i think i’ve been doing well. i’m improving every day, i feel myself getting closer to my dream. i hope it comes true. this has been an incredible experience and i’m afraid that when i blink i’ll wake up and it will have never happened. i’ve met so many of my heroes and so many new friends. i’ve learned so much. i don’t think i could ever regret this, even though it hasn’t always been easy.”

jinyoung is loathe to expose too much weakness. he doesn’t dare delve any farther into his own struggles than that, or even to reveal any more about his personal life on camera. he shifts in his seat, suddenly hit with a new was of mild discomfort.

“keep cheering for me. i’ll see you soon. love, jinyoung,” he finishes reading his letter and looks up, making eye contact with the camera. jinyoung sighs. “well, that’s done with,” he breathes quietly, steadying the unwelcome nerves as best as he can. “sorry it was short. my sister and i aren’t really the sentimental type, usually.”

[alycosworld]

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

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Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

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“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[nohoney]

you never moved on

notes: finally, another completed wip after so long! in a way i am glad it took me a while to complete and that the recent dabi reveal in the manga chapters helped me to define the story a bit more. i took a bit of inspiration from this one tiktok and listening to the weeknd’s song missed you put a bit of inspiration to start with this piece.

warnings: 18+, threats of violence, implied/vague mention of family abuse (we all know the canon okay), unhealthy attachments, toxic feelings, yandere-vibes, branding (sort of?), dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, oral sex (giving and receiving), rough sex

words: 13.1k

preview:

You’re still afraid of him after all these years.

Good.

He likes that.

Dabi wants every part of you to belong to him, love or hate or fear or devotion.

He wants it all.

“Look at me baby, don’t you miss me? ‘Cause I sure as hell missed you.” Dabi tells you after he takes in another drag from the cigarette. Slowly he walks along the balcony and keeps his eyes on you, watching as you slowly move to put distance between yourself and him. It’s cute how your eyes are trying to look for an opening to escape but don’t you know that he’s not ever going to let you go?

Dabi could never forget that fateful night he met you, running away after seeing that his death meant nothing to his family and was seeking shelter from a frightful rainstorm. He was unused to his new body, borrowed parts that reconstructed him back to a barely living person, he was soaking wet from the rain, and angry at the world as he broke the window lock to some fancy house that didn’t have any cars in the driveway. Stumbling into a random room, Dabi quickly shut the window and brought a hand up to emit a small blue flame to warm himself. But in his haste to find shelter, he failed to take surveillance of the room he invaded and was startled as he heard a quiet gasp in the room along with a lamp being turned on.

“Who are-”

He’s fast, an intimidating hand that glows blue fire in the direction of the voice, and he’s face to face with a girl no more his age.

You cowered against the headboard of your bed, blanket clutched close to your chest and fear evident in your eyes.

“Don’t you scream or I’ll burn you alive, you understand?” Dabi asked, knowing that you’d agree so easily with a quick nod of your head. He keeps the intensity of his blue flame up for a few more seconds and asks, “How many people in this house?”

Apparently it was you, just you all alone with Dabi and he didn’t think about it much at the time, just that he was lucky to find a house and only one person to take care of in case things became sideways. But when he looks back on the memory, he thinks that it was fate that brought you together. He was destined to find shelter in your ritzy little house and find you alone in your bedroom on that stormy night, it was destiny that he’d threaten to burn you alive otherwise he would have killed you on the spot and you agreed in order to preserve your life.

Under duress you cared for him that first stormy night, your hands shaking as you tended to him and apprehensively feeding and clothing him. The two of you were just at the age of being in high school, at least you were when Dabi remembers your school uniform on its hanger in front of your wardrobe. He didn’t feel like a high schooler, he had just woken up to a sixteen year old body when he died at thirteen. And how unlucky for you that you were spending the next few days alone while your parents were out, forced to share a roof with an unknown boy with a strong quirk. Dabi remembers your delicate hands pathetically giving him first aid to burn wounds that were beyond healing, he told you only to focus on the new ones that he gave himself in quick fits of rage. Yet you still tried to soothe old scars and ugly flesh, quietly asking if what you were doing was making it better in any way.

He had said nothing but yet something thrummed in his heart in how you cared for him, and there wasn’t a word that Dabi could think of at the time to describe what it was he felt in his chest.

Instead he ordered you to sleep on the floor while he took your bed. But Dabi wasn’t completely heartless, he just wanted the mattress so he tossed you a pillow and your ridiculously fluffy comforter. Oh how you looked at him with those hurtful eyes as you tried to make yourself comfortable on the hardwood floor but you couldn’t argue with someone who’s quirk could kill you with just a crook of his finger. You fell asleep regardless with your back turned away from him and Dabi stared at you for a good while. 

You weren’t going anywhere under Dabi’s watch, not while he needed a shelter until he felt ready to move on to his next destination.

The morning after, there was still a light pattering of rain against the windows of your room as you and Dabi stared at one another. You had your comforter wrapped around your shoulders as if it would protect you while Dabi just looked at you from his position on your bed, almost contemplative before he asked you, “Lookin’ at how ugly I am?”

He refers to the attached jaw that doesn’t belong to him, the line of scars on his face so obvious that he was still unused to the sight.

You shake your head no, holding your comforter around you tighter and shrinking into yourself as if that would do anything for you in that moment. Head bowed and eyes down to the floor, you simply purse your lips and try to keep to yourself in hopes that it would make this mysterious boy interact with you less. But you’re his only company and his only entertainment, so when Dabi pushes a flaming palm towards you, you instinctively back up and try to put space between the two of you. “You ever met someone who’s quirk actually hurts them?”

Once again, you shake your head no and your eyes flickered between the blue flame and Dabi’s face. “I-I don’t know what you want but if it’s money I- '' you start to tell him but he sneers at you and he tuts his tongue.

Dabi doesn’t care about money, he came from money with a big house and lots of rooms and hired help to keep the place in order. Dabi never gave a shit about any of that stuff, the only thing he wanted was to be acknowledged and to find his purpose in life again. So he scoffed at your offer and looked towards the uniform that hung against your closet door; a fancy school uniform he’d seen a few times in his old life that’s perfectly pressed and ready to be worn. And he looks at you, hair all messed from laying down on a cotton pillow case and wearing some pastel pajamas with your white blanket still covering you.

Somehow looking at you irritated him, a part of him just wanted you to stop looking at him with those doe eyes and Dabi honest to god thought about just smothering you right then and there… but he didn’t. Instead he demanded for a change of clothes and more food to be served to him, following behind you as you did as you were told.

You were nervous the entire time, wary of Dabi and everything he could have done to you in the days that he invaded your home. He only needed a place to stay until he knew the rainstorm had finally passed through, he needed just to be clothed and fed until he was ready to find the next place he could hide and return to the hospital he woke up in. He was only there for five days, bullying you and scaring you with his fire when he got bored, fiddling with your parents things that you’d try to put back in its proper place, asking invading questions about you that you reluctantly answered because you had no choice but to in order to preserve your life.

It was his last night that had left a lasting impression on you and him, the rain outside was heavy and you were still sleeping on the floor while Dabi laid on your mattress. He had fallen asleep first before you did, unknowing that you were watching him twitch and groan in his sleep. He was having a nightmare, anxiety about his past making him thrash and curse in his sleep, but Dabi also had bloody tears running down his face. The red smeared against the pillow he slept on and it seemed the tighter he clenched his eyes, more blood came out. You rushed for a washcloth from your bathroom, wetting it with water first before rushing to Dabi’s aid.

He could hear your gentle hushing and the soft cloth wiping his cheeks and carefully around his eyes. Dabi woke in a panic, his chest rising and falling quickly in anxiety and too anxious to even threaten you to get off of him. Instead, Dabi stared wide eyed at you as you continued to wipe at his face. You switched to new parts of the cloth that weren’t stained red, telling him that he just had a nightmare and that he was safe.

Dabi could remember his eyes hurting, they fucking hurt so damn bad that it was the first time he had realized that his tears ducts had been burnt.

So not only did he get cursed with a body that couldn’t handle its own quirk, he burned himself to the point where he couldn’t even cry.

And there you were, telling him that it was okay if he wanted to cry. That you didn’t know what he was hurt from but it must have caused him a lot of pain, daring to cup his cheek in your hand and telling him that it was okay if he wanted to cry in front of you.

Dabi didn’t know how to feel at that moment, a mixture of confusion and resentment and sadness flowed through him all at once.

You did something he would have never expected; you leaned down to kiss his forehead and held him. 

He was stunned still by your action, still unsure how to register what was happening at the moment. He remembered how nice you smelled, he didn’t know if it was a perfume you wore or a body wash or your shampoo but you were so close to him, smelling like a delicate flower that flourishes under a gentle spring day. He hadn’t had affection given to him like that, not so freely and openly, he wasn’t familiar with it whatsoever. So Dabi pushed you off, pinning you to the bed and his hands squeezing your wrists. You laid underneath him, the wet and bloody rag still in your palm and you told him that you still needed to clean the blood off his face. Scared as you were of him, you still insisted that you take care of him. “Did you want to do it yourself? I can get you a fresh towel.” you asked him, obviously scared but there was a subdued determination that shined through your eyes as well.

You were just some stupid girl that Dabi planned on killing after he decided that he was done with this house, he was going to burn this place to the ground and leave no trace of his presence.

He was going to kill you, he was supposed to kill you…

Something thrummed in his heart when Dabi leaned down to you, pressing his lips against yours for just a few precious seconds. His heart pounded in his chest, once again questioning what the hell was going on with him to do such a thing. And when he pulled back, the first thing he did was slap you across the face hard before jumping off you and making a dash to the door.

He didn’t know why he kissed you, it didn’t make sense to him.

The slap across the face did make sense to him, it was something to bring him back to reality.

Dabi ran down the flight of stairs, he could hear you trying to catch up to him, most likely you were disoriented from his strike but still you tried to go after him. The rain was still heavy outside but Dabi felt like he needed to leave at that moment. Right by the door was a coat rack and he pulled the first thing he could reach for. He pulled his arms into the sleeves of the jacket he took, a heavy leather that smelled rich and of your father’s cologne, unlocking the front door and pulling it open so hard the door swung and the doorknob left a dent in the wall.

And Dabi ran, not even caring that he had no shoes on because at least the jacket protected the top half of his body from the rain. It was much too big for his frame at the time, just a young boy barely starting his adolescence and Dabi wondered how big of a man your father was because the jacket practically swallowed him.

You called after him, never knowing his name but telling him to come back and that he would get sick in the rain.

And Dabi looked back at you for only a few seconds, standing at the door of your home and a hand up to shield the rain that came down hard. He saw you shivering but still trying to step a foot out to chase after him. It was a moment, a moment that probably only lasted at most a few seconds but to him, everything slowed down and something struck a chord in him. Your concerned eyes for him and trying to step out into the rainstorm with no shoes just like him, soaked wet but still keeping your gaze on Dabi the entire time.

Something in his heart twisted looking at you like that and confusing him once more, wanting to just kill you but also be near you all the same.

He ran and left you behind.

Dabi grew up hiding under a new moniker, his body becoming more scarred but he became a man from the weak child he once was, his quirk more under his control than he was a kid, his hatred for his past growing alongside his strength as well, and he never forgot about you.

The jacket he stole from your house was long discarded, Dabi forgets what he did with it but he remembers being upset that he could no longer use it; it was his only tie that he had with you. The barest string that held onto the sentiment of those days with you, Dabi had strangely grown to cherish them despite the fact that you were just his hostage and the things you did for him were only under duress. But that last night you had together with him, he had grown fond of those last moments with you before he ran away.

The way you tried to cradle him, your soft hands touching him, the smell of your perfume, your kiss-

Fuck, he still remembers that kiss.

Sometimes Dabi’s lips still tingle when he thinks about the memory, he grows obsessed over it and becomes his beacon for when he feels darkness about to swallow him whole. In those moments you become his saving grace from making him lose his fucking mind and he comes to that conclusion that those feelings of confusion when he looked at you that one last time, he decides that it’s love.

He loves you.

Dabi loves you and thinks that you must have loved him back too, that’s why you cared for him when he cried bloody tears and tried to follow him when he left you behind at your parents’ fancy house.

Yeah, you wouldn’t have done those things if you hadn’t felt something for him.

There’s no way that you could have forgotten him, those five days you spent together couldn’t have been wiped away easily in the same way that Dabi couldn’t forget. And just in the same way Dabi thinks that it was fate that brought him to your house on that rainy night, he happens to stand in the shadows of an alley on a warm spring day when he sees you walk by and he recognizes you instantly because he could never forget the person he’s been in love with all these years. You’re older now, wearing a dress that teases him when the wind lifts the skirt of it and he sees the inside of your thighs for just a few seconds before you pat it down, and he sees your dainty manicured nails that compliment your dress.

Your hands, the ones that soothed his burns with ointment and how you dabbed a rag against his cheeks to get rid of the blood, they still look so soft and he wanted you to touch him again. Dabi wants to feel your hands hold his cheeks again, the brush of your knuckles against his own, and he wants your hands to hold his cock and jerk him off.

Dabi’s mastered being able to stalk quietly, following behind at a respectable distance but you seem to have good instincts because you do stop a few times to look around you. In his mind, he only thinks that you can sense him and that it’s because you are meant for him. But he does have to wait for the perfect timing to present himself and have that glorious reunion with you that he would sometimes dream about. So for the time being, he doesn’t mind following behind you for a little while and observing you from afar.

You’re all grown up now, wearing pretty dresses and carrying yourself differently than when he first met you. You live in a nice apartment, though Dabi notes how you don’t ever put on a work uniform and he remembers that you came from money when he remembers the luxurious house you lived in and he broke into. So you’re taken care of and he’s grateful because he doesn’t want you to be working, doesn’t want you to struggle to survive and you deserve to be pampered. In another life maybe he would have been the Pro Hero his father had attempted to train him to be, he’d make good money on top of the inheritance his family already has and met you somehow, charmed you into a relationship, bought you designer label shoes and purses and lingerie, pay for your mani-pedis, propose with a ring to marry you after dating you for a while and fuck, maybe even had kids too.

You’re beautiful he thinks to himself, Too fuckin’ beautiful… I just want to be with you.

Dabi wants to be with you, he knows that you’re the one for him.

So it makes his blood boil when he follows you one day walking alongside your parents and sees you meet with a young man, shaking his hand but with a stiff smile. He stood and watched the interaction from afar, he notes your posture and demeanor; uncomfortable smiles and downcast eyes. You put on a face for the company in front of you but you’re… resigned.

He understands when a small velvet box is slid toward you along with a sheet of paper; a contract marriage.

Dabi can’t help but scoff, Is that what all women are good for? Just fuckin’ marrying them off so they can have a shitty family together for the husband’s benefit?

He thinks of his mother and compares the sadness in her eyes to the despair in yours.

“I’m going to save you doll.”

It’s when you’re all alone at your apartment, sitting alone on the private balcony with the velvet box opened up and that piece of paper sitting in front of you on the patio furniture that Dabi makes his way into your home. He’s observed your routine, knows the floor to your home, has memorized the combination to the electronic keypad to your private hallway, and he just waltzes in. You don’t seem to notice his presence this time, your attention is all on the two items in front of you, and Dabi notes your tense posture.

You’re leaning back on the chair and taking a drag from your cigarette, smoke easily passing through your lips as you exhale out along with a saddened sigh.

Dabi slides the glass door and it alerts you.

You twist around quickly and gasp from where you sit, covering your hands over your cleavage as he realizes that you’re wearing a thin, see through night dress.

You must really feel comfortable with the security of your home to wear such a thing out on your own balcony.

Dabi steps out and slides the glass door closed behind him and greets you with, “Been a long time.”

And you look at him, eyes glancing up and down and he can see you strain your memory in trying to think and remember him. It’s a little hurtful but Dabi decides to forgive you because he does look vastly different than when the two of you had first met. He’s different now, he’s grown into a man now and you a woman, and it’s time for that reunion that he had always dreamed about with you. Dabi knows that it wouldn’t be beautiful, would probably be like pulling teeth for a little, but this was meant to be. “What’s wrong doll, still think I’m ugly?”

His words seem to spark a memory in you, just the slightest recognition in your eyes but your form doesn’t relax, still looking at him with distrust and suspicion.

So Dabi just simply holds his palm out and ignites a small blue fire.

“It’s you!”

As if you could forget the boy with the blue flames.

Finally you relax your arms, the cigarette being put out in the crystal ashtray before you stand up though you do not dare approach just yet.

He calls off the fire from his palm and circles the balcony first, looking at the little plants decorated along the railing, admiring the view of the city, and then looking to you. “You look good babe, not like me.”

“What… What happened to you? You ran away from me…” you say with a wariness that offends Dabi. There’s no reason for you to be so tense around him, you were so open and willing that last day you were together so why not pick up where the two of you left off. “Will you tell me? What happened?”

Dabi leans against the railing of your balcony and looks you up and down, really drinking in your appearance and he almost has to remember that you are real in front of him. Too many years he’d spent fantasizing about reuniting with you and now here he stands before you after all this time. He’s silent at first, pensive over this moment before he takes in a silent breath and exhales deeply. He goes to your ashtray and picks up the cigarette you stubbed out, still plenty of it left and puts it in between his lips. Lifting a single finger, he lights up the stick and inhales the nicotine deeply and exhales out smoothly.

“Look at us all grown up, huh? Gotta be honest, I had a few instances where it was touch and go for me but I’m not going out in any other way except the way I planned it out.” Dabi says and avoids your question. “And you, all fucking gorgeous and looking like a real lady. Not in that stupid high school uniform or those dumb pajamas I met you in. Yup doll, you’re a real flower that’s waiting to get picked.”

His eyes look down to the velvet box that sits alongside the marriage contract.

Picking it up, he inspects the impressive diamond cut on a yellow gold band.

If he were to get you a ring, he’d make it white gold.

“Pretty ring, I gotta say. Bet he’ll buy you a fancy wedding gown too, you must be looking forward to it.” Dabi spits out with resentment. If only in a different life he could propose to you and marry you, give you whatever ceremony you want and you’d give him your everything in return.

“Could you ah, put that down please? It’s not yours.” you ask politely. You shrink back a bit when his eyes glance towards you, snapping the box shut and dropping it unceremoniously onto the table. It clatters loudly and you wince at such a disrespectful action but you do nothing to scold him.

You’re still afraid of him after all these years.

Good.

He likes that.

Dabi wants every part of you to belong to him, love or hate or fear or devotion.

He wants it all.

“Look at me baby, don’t you miss me? ‘Cause I sure as hell missed you.” Dabi tells you after he takes in another drag from the cigarette. Slowly he walks along the balcony and keeps his eyes on you, watching as you slowly move to put distance between yourself and him. It’s cute how your eyes are trying to look for an opening to escape but don’t you know that he’s not ever going to let you go? He’s found you after all this time and he no longer wants to live in fantasies about you when he can just have you. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you. I wish I woulda’ realized what a gem you are back when we first met. Look at how fucking scared you are, it really takes me back.”

You press your back against the glass sliding door with your eyes still trained on him. “What do you want?”

Dabi wants a few things like a better body to handle his quirk and that amazing bottle of bourbon at Shigaraki’s shitty bar before those heroes wrecked it, but he simply answers your question with one word, “You.”

“Why me?” you ask, knowing that you can’t make a break for it inside your home. “I’m not anyone to you.”

“Not true.” Dabi disagrees and flicks the cigarette somewhere on the balcony. He comes closer to you and cages you in his arms, his palms pressing flat against the glass and ready to do what it takes to ensure that you don’t fight or escape from him. “You’re my doll, you know that don’t you? You’ve been mine ever since the first day we met.”

“I never learned your name…” you whisper to him.

Disbelief is apparent in your eyes when you look at him, taking in a shuddering breath and trying to control your breathing to appear calm.

Reaching for your hand, Dabi takes it in his own hand and sighs when he brings your palm to cup his cheek. Your hands are still soft just like that last day he ran from your house and he smells the perfume you wear too, also still the same after all these years. You still look delicate and you’re giving him that same frightened look but with a touch of softness that he knew was empathy for him. He may not have known what his feelings were back then but what’s important is that he knows them now, and now he can finally be with you.

But who should he be to you?

Dabi had just barely been born the day he met you but it would be so sickeningly sweet to be called Touya by you.

You’re right there in front of him to take and Dabi was one second away kissing you, ready to fulfill a fantasy that lived far too long in his head, but your doorbell rang and startled you.

“Ignore it.” Dabi hisses.

But the pounding of the door and a call of your name is what makes you gasp, pulling your hand back from Dabi’s cheek and looking at the hallway leading to your front door through the glass. “Please, it’s my fiancé! He’ll worry if I don’t answer!” you say with a sense of urgency. “I need to answer him, please!”

“Fiancé? You agreed to marry that asshole?” Dabi frowns and keeps his hand on the handle of the door to prevent you from going in. “You’re going to marry that prick?”

“Can we not talk semantics? Just please!” you continue to beg but Dabi won’t have it. He’s seething with jealousy and he’s about ready to just go in himself and burn the fucker alive for ruining his moment. He’s surprised though when you pull him by the collar of his jacket and kiss him, firmly pressing your lips to his and you pull back before he can really savor it. “Doll…”

You touch his cheek, mindful of the staples, and Dabi has to hold back a groan over how delicate your touches make him. You only kissed him and he already feels bricked up for you, he absolutely wants more from you but when he leans down to kiss you again, you gently put your palm over his mouth before he gets too close.

“Let me send him away and then it can just be me and you, okay?” you tell him. “I’ll make sure he won’t stay long, I promise.”

Dabi thinks on it a little and decides that the smarter thing would not be to compromise your home. Your hand drops from his mouth and he tells you, “He gets five minutes, any longer than that I’m going to-”

“He’ll be gone in five!” you promise him, sliding the glass door open to finally open the front door.

But Dabi grasps your bicep in his hand and pulls you back momentarily to tell you, “Fucking cover yourself up.” He’s referring to your nightgown and he had noticed your nipples pointed through the sheer fabric; if he hadn’t been interrupted, then there would be more of an appreciation for your choice of sleepwear but at the moment he feels anger that there’s the possibility that this man has already seen you intimately.

I want to kill him.

You give him a jittery nod and gently close the glass door, he hears you yell out ‘just a minute’ as you rush to the hallway that he assumes is your bedroom. You come out wearing a silk robe and he sneers at the choice but he knows that he can’t make you go back a second time without alerting the third party about his presence. So he leans against the wall to remain unseen, but not before pushing the glass door just slightly ajar so that he can try to listen in.

He seethes quietly as he hears you greet your so-called ‘fiancé’ and ask what his business is at your home at this hour.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t very enthusiastic today and I know that this all isn’t your choice but I still would like to make you happy.”

Disgusted, Dabi is disgusted because he doesn’t believe that you can be happy with anyone else but him. He’s envisioned you smiling just for him with hearts in your eyes and open legs for him to be comfortable right in between. He can offer you freedom from this shitty marriage you seem to be resigning yourself to, he can open your eyes to the view that you have more to your life than just someone’s trophy wife.

There’s hesitance in your voice and Dabi is ticking down the seconds.

Four minutes and seventeen seconds left to give that asshole an opportunity to leave…

“I um… I’m coming to terms with it and that’s not on you to do for me. You don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’m fine.” you say a little rushed and he can imagine that the stress you’re feeling must be showing on your face. “We can talk about this another time, I’d like to get some sleep.”

Dabi wants to be alone with you and he’s itching to just go in himself to take care of it.

And yet the turn of the conversation surprises him when your fiancé asks, “You don’t still… think of him, do you?”

Him? Who is this ‘him’?

Was there another fucking man in the picture?

Your fiancé continues on with another question, “You’re so fixated on that boy who’s name you never learned, why does his ghost still follow you? I realize that you’re a very empathetic person (Name) but it hurts me that you still dream of this person who had threatened your life when you were just a young girl!”

Dabi’s shocked from what he hears and though he was supposed to be counting down the seconds for that asshole to leave, now he’s intrigued and wants to hear more.

“He didn’t hurt me and obviously he was just scared from whatever happened to him! I might not know his story but I saw that he was in pain, I wished that I had chased after him! You weren’t there and-“ your voice starts to rise but you seem to stop yourself, letting out a sigh and calming yourself down. “I don’t want to talk about this again. You are threatened by a presence that has nothing to do with what’s going on right now. You’re making me regret telling you this, I should have never said anything about him.”

You talked about him? You talked about Dabi?

“(Name) please, I’m worried that you have underlying trauma from that time and I don’t want it to bleed into our marriage. It worries me how defensive you are over someone who could have killed you-“

“But he didn’t! He wanted nothing to do with me! He ran away and left me!” your voice cracked with pain at the last sentence.

The tensions rise and Dabi has lost count of the time.

“Stop talking as if you and him had a break up! You were trapped in your house by a delinquent who’s most likely turned criminal now! You said so yourself that he had forced you to care for him and then you go back and tell me that you felt something for him! Don’t you think it’s so fucking twisted how you pined after a fucking runaway boy when he was just using you to survive? You and this Stockholm syndrome you don’t even realize you have!”

Dabi’s heard enough, sliding the glass door open and making his presence known.

You turn back to see him stepping inside your home with eyes set on your fiancé. Trying to put yourself between the two men, your fiancé is asking what was going on, you plead to Dabi to not do anything and to let you handle it still. He ignored you as he gave you a light shove to put you out of place, intending to take this into his own hands. 

“Please no! Please don’t hurt him!” you pleaded.

Dabi’s left hand reaches out and a blue flame ignites from his palm.

“Burn to ashes.” Dabi hisses and just as the blue flame is about to shoot out-

A distorted voice speaks into the air.

“Stop it.”

Dabi ceases the fire from his palm, confused why he was following an order when he was just about ready to kill the fucker in front of him.

Your fiancé sputters your name, “(Name), (Name) don’t use your quirk on-“

The distorted voice speaks again but this time it’s not directed towards Dabi, “Stay quiet.”

This time he has his eyes on you, watching as you open your mouth and realize that the distorted voice is coming from you. It’s almost as if it’s a secondary voice that’s layered underneath the words you speak, making Dabi realize quickly what your quirk was as you issue a command to him.

“Knock him out.”

Dabi punches the lights out on your fiancé without even thinking, taking a second to realize how he just blindly obeyed without even knowing if he could put up a fight against your command in the first place.

He watches in a daze how you kneel on the floor to your fiancé, quietly inspecting him before deeming that he was fine. When you look up at Dabi, he sees how upset you are over the turn of events that transpired. He’s upset over it too but the first thing he had to ask was, “Was that your quirk?”

You answer with a reluctant nod.

“Explain it, now.” Dabi hisses, needing to know what exactly he was going up against if there was going to be any struggle from you.

At first you pressed your lips into a thin line as if you were going to keep quiet but your shoulders sagged in defeat before you decided to give in to his demand. “My quirk is being able to command someone to do what I tell them to, but I have to command someone with one hundred percent intention in order for it to work. Anything less than my full intention won’t be a guarantee that my command will be followed. The hero’s commission has a restriction against the use of my quirk, they said that it could easily be abused if used for the wrong reasons…”

Your quirk is something that others should be afraid of, he won’t deny that. But what trips him up is if you were aware of the use of quirk this entire time, assuming that when it manifested and you were trained on how to utilize it…

“All those years ago when we first met… did you already have control of your quirk? Could you have used it on me?” Dabi asked, already feeling like he knew the answer.

His question is answered with a reluctant nod.

“Why didn’t you use it on me if you already had a handle on it?”

“I didn’t want to use it on you, you were already so scared and sad from… I don’t know what happened.” you answer quietly and a tone of uneasiness behind your words. “I wasn’t sure if I was okay using my own quirk on you and if it backfired if I tried, I didn’t want to get hurt. But if I did use it on you and it worked, I just felt like… it would have made you more upset than you already were.”

Dabi is stunned by your answer.

You let him hold you captive when you could have easily used your quirk on him?

You slowly stood up to your feet, putting your hands up to show that you meant no harm and hesitated approaching him. “Please don’t be upset, I really honestly didn’t know what to do that day you broke into my house. I just knew that you were hurt from something, not just from your quirk, but something broke you…”

A loud bang against the wall echoes throughout the room, Dabi having pushed you to the wall and roughly holding your face in his large hand. His eyes look down into yours and still you look terrified of him, but he knows now that if you focus your quirk you could easily make him get off of you. If you reacted quickly enough before Dabi moved, he could easily be dead from whatever you could tell him to do. “So what? You took fuckin’ pity on me? Is that what that was all those years ago?” Dabi spits out his question with venom, his pride suddenly tipped over at the realization that he had no control back then like he thought he did. “Felt sorry for this ugly fucker in front of you and thought you’d do a charity case?”

It makes him feel foolish, it reminds him that he’s always been weak.

You shook your head the best you could with Dabi still holding you in place, tears burning at the edge of your eyes and you let out a quiet, “No, it wasn’t like that-”

“Liar!”

“Please…” you sob out and try to weakly tug Dabi’s hand off you. “I really did care about you even though I never knew your name.”

Dabi stared hard at you before dropping his hand, but he still kept you in your place. He looked down at you, pressing his hands against the wall and caging you in his arms. Your hands are clutched to your chest and you’re leaned back against the wall to give as much space as possible even though he could easily just step forward and do away with the space.

When he thinks about the memories he has of you, they almost feel like a lie now. Realizing now that he never had any real power over you from the beginning and it makes his heart burn in his chest.

“It was real, you know?” you say quietly, “I took care of you because I wanted to. Everything I did for you was my own actions. I didn’t use my quirk on you because I didn’t want to. I wasn’t sure if I could use it on you without making you upset-“

“Stop talking to me as if I’m fucking fragile!” Dabi yells.

“You’re not! I know you’re not!” you yell back at him, “I still remember our last night together, when you cried in your sleep. Whatever haunted you and hurt you, you have a right to feel angry and upset and wronged by it. You didn’t deserve it.”

All these words of validation were foreign to him.

Dabi had not spoken of his real intentions to anyone, he has a past that he had no intention to ever confide to anyone unless executed by his own hand, and he had a direction in his life to only fucking kill the source who had caused him so much vexation his entire life.

And without knowing anything about him at all, not his name or his past, you gave him more than anyone could because in the end… he still thinks you’re the one for him. The words you spoke that touched that part of his heart that Dabi never wanted to handle ever again mean more coming from you. He wants to press burn marks to your thighs and watch you cry, since you’re his soulmate he wants you to know what the pain of his quirk feels like so that you could understand just a quarter of it.

You don’t know the gravity of his pain but he’s willing to show you himself.

“He wanted nothing to do with me! He ran away and left me!”

“Stop talking as if you and him had a break up!”

“… Did you miss me when I left?” Dabi asked as he thought back to your argument with your fiancé.

You nodded your head. “… I did. I wanted to know where you were, I searched for you for a few months before I gave up. I never told anyone except my fiancé about you, I had resigned myself to never seeing you again. But I would still think of you even after I grew up, even after I stopped wearing a high school uniform and moved on to college.”

You make him feel wanted.

“What am I to you?”

He needs to know.

“I always knew I was going to get married off by my parents, they made me aware of that when I was young. After my quirk manifested, there were families with strong quirks that were clawing their way into my parents social circle so that they could arrange a quirk marriage. It felt like being married off was my only purpose but when you came into my house that day…”

Dabi’s heart beats in anticipation of your answer.

“I felt like you needed me. Whatever you wanted back then, whatever you want now, I want to give it all to you. I’m scared of how much I feel for you but I don’t want to let you go.”

He knew it… you’re the fucking one for him.

Dabi may have lost his purpose in life but in turn, you had found yours in him.

This sick confession that he hears makes him absolutely giddy on the inside. For a little bit, Dabi thought he was sick for wanting you so badly before embracing it. He thought he’d have to bend and break you, which admittedly would still have been fun, but there is something so delicious over the fact that you were always ready and willing for him.

He can’t help but chuckle at you, “You’re a sick fuck, you know that right? You fucking caught feelings for someone that could have killed you when you didn’t even want to put up a fight in the first place.”

You had all the power over him the entire time back then but you didn’t use them at all.

Your breath shudders as you take a step forward, daring to put a hand forward right over where Dabi’s heart is. “I know I’m fucked up for wanting you and I was ready to spend the rest of my life dreaming of the boy who broke into my house and cried blood on my pillow before running away, never being able to talk or see him again. I was almost terrified that when you stood in front of me that I was dreaming, but you’re here in front of me and you want me!”

He fucking does, you have no idea how much.

“I thought I was nothing to you. I was so nervous that I didn’t know how to look you in the eye, I wanted to go into my bathroom to splash water on my face and make sure that I wasn’t imagining you.”

So you weren’t looking for a means to escape, just wanted to be sure that you were in reality.

Dabi has to hold back a groan when the hand that was over his heart touches his cheek and you step even closer to him to ask, “You really meant it when you said you missed me, right?”

“Yeah, I meant every word.”

A relieved smile comes onto your face and for the first time, he sees how lovestruck you actually are.

“Fuckin’ hell, you really are fucking sick for me.”

He thought that he fell harder for you but you clearly outdid him.

“You know that I actually did plan to kill you, right?” Dabi asks you and wonders if that will change anything for you. “If you weren’t willing to use your quirk on me, I could have easily done away with you using mine.”

“But you didn’t.”

Dabi chuckles once more, this time turning his head into your palm and kissing the skin of it. “You’re right doll, I didn’t.”

This is fate, once more Dabi thinks that everything that has happened to lead up to this moment is fate. A predetermined destiny that would not be set off course no matter the protest from other people, this was always meant to be. You would have spent the rest of your life pining away for him and died with a part of your heart that you had reserved just for him, and that would have happened all without ever knowing what to call him.

“I still don’t know your name. Will you tell me?”

When you ask him, Dabi is still unsure himself what to allow you to call him.

Who he has been the last few years of his life has been Dabi, but Touya still lies underneath it all. You saw Touya that day he cried and ran away from you, searching for him and wondering where he had gone. Even he wonders who he should be to you, Touya or Dabi?

“Use your quirk on me, tell me to tell you what my name is.”

You’re confused by his command, your brows pinching in confusion and shaking your head. “What? That’s unnecessary, why should I use my quirk? It’s a waste-“

“Use your quirk, I’m not going to repeat myself.”

There’s a beat of hesitation from you but you muster up the intention to use your quirk, commanding him in that distorted voice, “Tell me your name.”

“Dabi.” he answers upon your order.

So Dabi he will be to you.

“Dabi…” you whisper quietly, testing his name on your tongue and loving how right it sounds. “I missed you Dabi.”

This was definitely not the turn of events he was expecting tonight, but fucking hell he is more than satisfied with what happened. “I missed you doll and I want you right fucking here, right fucking now.”

He thought you’d give in right away because it’s damn clear how badly you want him back, so he’s surprised when you put your hands against his chest to stop him. He’s offended by the sudden change of your attitude and he has half a mind to just drag you away to your bedroom down the hall and do what he’s been wanting to fulfill this entire time.

“I can’t just leave him right there.”

You’re referring to your fiancé still lying on the floor.

Dabi sneers at his unconscious body and tugs at your arm. “Just use your damn quirk on him to make him forget what happened.”

“I can’t, my quirk doesn’t work that way. And even if I do use it on him, I only get one more use and then that’s it until the next day. I only get a finite amount of uses with my quirk, only five to be specific and my commands have to be within a person’s capability of executing it.” you explain your quirk again with more detail this time. “If you’re willing to wait, I have a friend who’s got a memory erasing quirk but it only works if the memory is erased within the hour. The more time passes, the less likely it will be to work.”

Dabi prefers to not wait, he’d like to just toss your fiancé’s body over the balcony and be done with it. You’re a kind little thing however and he’s sure that you wouldn’t allow for it so he doesn’t have much choice but to acquiesce. So he waits outside when that friend with the memory erasing quirk arrives (though he’s irritated that it’s a man) and manages to carry your fiancé out of your home.

“Fucking finally.” he growls and approaches you quickly after you’ve made sure that your friend had left. “Come fucking here.”

This is it, the reunion that he had been waiting for.

It’s not exactly his vision of what he thought it would be, but goddamn it was more than he could have ever asked for.

“I missed you! I missed you!” you giggle for Dabi, your eyes in a happy daze when you’re pushed onto the surface of your plush bed and groan when his hands cup your breasts. “I thought I’d only dream about this for the rest of my life…”

Holy fucking shit…

“You have it real bad for me, don’t you?” Dabi chuckles. “What was it baby? What was it about our time together that made you like this?”

Your eyes draw down, suddenly shy, but you’re bold enough to reach towards Dabi and touch his cheek again. The tips of your fingers graze between the spaces of the staples in his skin, still with that same soft touch like all those years again. It really takes him back to that time in your house, except this time he knows what his feelings are for you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you had run away into the rain. Whatever had hurt you before, I saw how much pain it put you through and all I wanted to do was soothe you. I don’t know what I could have done better to help you and I was sad that I would never be able to see you again.” You confessed to Dabi, “I wanted to find you and help you, it was the only thing I could think about for months until my parents thought I was depressed and they had to have me treated with therapy and medication.”

Christ, she was literally going crazy over me.

It makes him so giddy inside that you were losing your mind over him.

“Even after the therapy stopped and I was okay to go off the meds, I never forgot about you! When I told my fiancé about you, he didn’t understand me at all. He kept on telling me he wanted to understand but he just didn’t get it!” You huff out the last two words.

“Of course not doll, it was only you and me in that room.” Dabi coos to you.

“He was so mad when I told him that you kissed me, even more mad when I said you hit me afterwards but I know you didn’t mean to!”

Fuck the more you talk, the harder his cock gets for you and he’s just about tempted to make you gag on his dick. Dabi’s torn between either fucking you finally after all these years or listening spew more about the unhealthy infatuation you developed for him. You’re head over heels for him and all you had was just those five days together.

But those five days were all that you needed and you ended up driving yourself crazy thinking and dreaming and wanting and wishing for him.

Good, Dabi didn’t want this to be one sided.

Just in the same way he spent nights thinking of you, you were losing sleep and sanity over him.

This is love, this is love to him.

He fucking knew you had feelings for him, everything you did wasn’t just because he could have burned you to ashes if you didn’t comply. Your quirk was developed enough to stop him and you didn’t bother to use it at all, choosing to care for him up until he ran away.

And all without knowing who he was.

“Say my name baby, say my name.”

“Dabi.”

“Again.”

“Dabi.”

“Fuck, again.”

“Dabi!”

Just like all those years ago, there’s no one else in your room but you and him. Here you are a woman all grown up and here Dabi is a much different person than he had come out to be. There’s a spot in hell just for him and his father, but he wouldn’t drag that scum to hell without having had a taste of you first.

It’s almost frenzied how fast Dabi tears off your robe and night dress and you’re just as desperate to be unclothed for him. When he presses his nose against your neck, he gets to smell your perfume and lotion up close, it really takes him back to that last time you held him. You smell just as good as that last night and your hands are soft like all those years ago.

“Why is your hair black? I like the way it looked back then.” You ask him as your hands go through his hair. “Couldn’t recognize you since it wasn’t white. It was so pretty too.”

“I have my reasons, doll.” Dabi mutters against your neck before biting down on you. “Don’t focus on that now, focus on this.”

He takes one of your hands and instead places it right where his cock is straining against his pants. “I wanna give it to you so damn bad doll, you have no idea.”

The way you tell him you want him makes his heart melt for you, it almost disgusts Dabi himself how much he loves it and wants to hear more. You are so atrociously in love with him, even more so than he is, he wonders what are the limits you would push yourself for him.

“Give it to me please, I want you so bad!” You whimper as you place your free hand in between your own legs. “I’m wet for you Dabi, so wet and you haven’t even touched me yet!”

True to your words, Dabi verifies it himself and chuckles over your soaked panties. No doubt you’re excited and this is probably the most alive you’ve felt in forever. He wonders if things would have been any different if he chose another night to break into your house and surprise you. “Yeah you are, fucking little bitch that thinks she’s ready for my cock huh?” Dabi tears off the lace panties you wore underneath and sinks a single finger inside of you, marveling how easily it slid in. “You are wet for me doll, look at that. This pussy’s tight though so you’re gonna struggle a little once I put it in ya.”

It’s just a heads up but you clench around his finger at his words.

He slides his finger out of you and samples the taste of you, pleased over the taste of your pussy. Dabi grabs a hold of your hips and pulls you until your ass hangs over the edge of your bed and he’s uncaring of your nightwear as he tears it down the middle so that the stupid fabric doesn’t get in the way. He falls to his knees and makes himself comfortable in between your legs, wasting no time in eating you out because you’re finally right there in front of him and he doesn’t have to rely on imagination or a substitute bitch he found out of nowhere.

Dabi is finally with you.

Your thighs shake around his head as he flicks his tongue over your clit, sighing up to the ceiling when he licks you up and down, and suppressing your sounds as he adds his fingers in combination with his tongue. Truthfully Dabi is selfish and he much prefers for a bitch to put their mouth on his dick, but he has to know what you taste like on his tongue. He has to know how sloppy your pussy looks like up close after he tongue fucks you before he rams himself inside you. He wants his fingers to be familiar with the clench of your pussy before his cock gets the full immersive experience of you.

It’s cute how you move your hips in time with his tongue, your dumb little sounds make blood rush to his cock and he just wants to fucking pound you until you’re dumbest bitch in the city.

He does want you to feel good but what’s pleasure without a little pain?

Dabi tests the placement of his hands, the tips of his fingers resting loosely on your hips and he slowly draws them down on your skin. Where the crease of your hip meets your thigh, he carefully oh so carefully-

“Fuck! It— it hurts!” 

Oh baby, you are a soft and sensitive little thing. 

It’s just a little burn, just barely a fraction of the pain Dabi experienced on the fiery hill that day. You don’t know physical pain like he has but he wants to show so that you understand him better. He wants to burn you even further so that even when he’s away from you, he’s still right there in your skin and with you wherever you are. It’s only a little pain, you’ve lived a nice and pampered life so you could stand it for just a little. “Oh it hurts, does it?” Dabi mocks you but relents his quirk, “Poor little doll can’t take a little heat? It’s only a first degree burn, nothing too harsh.”

But you’re letting out quiet sobs and choke back hiccups, unused to any sort of pain. “It h-hurts…”

Dabi kisses the inside of your thigh before pressing his cheek against your soft skin, waiting patiently for your cries to calm down. “Are you mad that I hurt you doll?”

You take in a shuddering breath before answering, “No, only ‘cause it’s you.”

He wants to hurt you more, just as much as he wants to love you.

Back then he was too stupid too recognize it, but Dabi knows what he feels now.

“You wanna make me feel good?” Dabi asks you as he stands to his feet, eyeing the burn marks on your hips and holds back the grin that wants to come onto his face. “Wanna make me happy?”

You pathetically nod after wiping away your tears and ask what he would like you to do to make him happy.

It’s an easy request for you to fulfill; just get on your knees and suck him off. You slid to the space on the floor in front of Dabi, quietly unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants low enough for his cock to bob out. But he knows you’re uncomfortable from the burns he gave you, how you ignore the pain from where he burned you in favor of taking care of his pleasure. You ignore it to bob your head up and down on his cock, gagging and choking yourself when you try to take what you can of him into your throat, tears forming at the corner of your eyes but for different reasons this time. Dabi sees you fight through your own pain to give him pleasure, he knows that you deserve a reward for it and he’ll give it to you.

“Good girl, you were meant for this. You were meant for me, yeah?”

You were about to pull back from his cock to answer verbally, but Dabi stops you with a hand to the back of your head. You look up at him pathetically, there’s a mix of sentimentality and amusement in his eyes. Without him needing to say anything, you know how he wants you to answer him. With a little nod of your head, Dabi appreciates the way his cock feels in your throat as you move your head.

“You ever gonna want anyone else the way you want me?”

You shake your head back and forth, it almost makes his eyes roll to the back of his head how fucking delicious it felt when you did that. But poor little you can only take so much and you pull away to get air into your lungs, gasping for breath while drool drips down your chin onto the wood of your floor. Dabi thinks in that moment how beautiful you are and that he feels just a little blessed that a creature like you wants a man like him.

You’re definitely not sane in the head for wanting him as badly as you do.

“I remember when you kissed me all those years ago, would you kiss me like that again?” You asked after gaining your composure after his little throat fuck. “Kiss me like that again please?”

“I don’t think I can, doll.” Dabi answered you honestly as he leisurely pet the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. “I can’t kiss you like a shy kid, I’m not that guy.”

But he’ll kiss you with all the love he has and it’ll be better than the first one you two ever shared. 

Dabi commands you to go up on the bed and pushes you back to lie flat, spreading your legs open and spitting onto your pussy when he stands between your legs. He’s kind enough to reach down and smear his spit all over your pussy first before he grasps his cock in his hand, teasing his tip against your slit and almost feeling breathless that this is happening. He’s about to fuck you, he’s going to know what it’s like to fuck someone you love, but he needs to hear how much you want it first.

He takes pleasure in how you whimper and plead to him, begging to have him inside you, and it was only going to be just for a little bit but you reveal to him how impatient you actually are and it ruins the moment for him.

“I want you inside me now.”

At your quirk’s command, Dabi pushes into your warmth and while it’s everything he thought it would be and more, he wanted this to happen organically.

Dabi slaps your cheek with an open palm, anger behind his strike and makes you cry out in pain. “You fucking selfish bitch! That was the last use of your quirk and you use it on me? I should pull out of you right now and leave you empty!”

You become hysterical at his words, sobbing out apologies to him and winding your legs around his waist to keep him from leaving you. “I’m sorry! Please don’t, I’m sorry Dabi!”

As if the slap wasn’t enough, he presses his fingers into the still fresh burns he gave you and you sob harder. You apologize harder and try to push his hands away but he doesn’t relent. “I wanted this to be real, happen all naturally and shit and this is what you pull? You ever use your quirk to command other men to fuck you? You use your quirk to be a whore?” Dabi spits out. “I bet you fucking did, maybe you were lying about all the shit you said-“

“No, no, no! I didn’t lie, I swear I didn’t lie to you! I’m sorry Dabi, I’m sorry!” You blubber out apologies as more tears stream down your cheeks. As angry as he is at you right now, it also turns him on to see you cry for him. “Please, I wasn’t lying to you and I’m sorry! I’m so sorry and I love you.”

Dabi roughly holds your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. He snarls down at you and even with you looking so desperate and scared, he knows you mean it when you say those words. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean to save yourself.”

“I’m not! I mean it, I love you and I shouldn’t have done that!” You profusely apologize, absolutely crazy at the thought of Dabi not believing anything you say now. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you, just please believe me!”

“Anything huh?”

“Yes, anything!”

Dabi loves you too but you’re not his end all.

He’s had only one goal in mind since Touya died and Dabi was born.

He may have found you along the way but you were no factor in his plans.

You can still prove to him though that he’s your everything and only one.

So Dabi leans down to you, still holding your face in his hand but with a more gentle touch, and he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. There is no one more beautiful than you and maybe there really is another life where you and him are together.

Not in this life though.

“When I go to hell, come follow me.”

Don’t live the rest of your life without me.

You nod your head and let out a pathetic little sob.

“Promise me with your words, promise me and I’ll fuck you doll.”

With a shuddering breath, you swear to Dabi, “I promise I’ll follow you to hell… I promise.”

He kisses you.

Dabi did say that he wouldn’t be able to replicate his first kiss with you, but this is probably the softest you will ever get from him. It feels like pure love to him, this feels right and this will probably be the most innocent he will ever be for his entire life. There’s no redemption or resolution for him later down the road; he has planned an upcoming chaos and wants to watch and smile as it falls into place and then falls apart.

But before any of that, he at least has to fulfill this desire he couldn’t let go of when he had met you.

“I love you, I love you Dabi…” you quietly sob when he pulls back from the kiss. “I’m sorry, I love you…”

Even though Dabi was genuinely angry that you used your quirk on him, he’s also aware that it was the last use until your quirk resets so now he knows that you have no power to take this situation in your direction.

He can do what he wants to you.

“You love me, yeah?” He asks for more confirmation.

“I do, won’t you say it back?” you meekly ask him, “Won’t you?”

Of course he will, but now he’s more focused on the feel of your cunt around him. The way you clenched so deliciously around him when you cried turned him on in a way that he didn’t think possible. It’s warm and snug inside of you, and Dabi just wants to ruin you to tears.

You may have made him angry but that’s okay, he can set that aside and just revel in this reunion with you.

It turned out to be more than what he had expected, even with some unexpected turns.

In the end, his goal was to reunite you in the one way that he’s wanted for years.

So no more wasting time.

Dabi puts your legs over his shoulders and places his hands on your hips, and he gives no warning as he fucks himself into you. He barely has any good memories for him to look back on, but this one will surely be the sweetest and of the most satisfying he’ll ever have. It’s not necessarily romantic the way he’s fucking you but he wasn’t expecting to woo you like a stupid fairytale prince when he planned to reunite with you. But you sound exactly the way he thought you would and your gummy little cunt is better than anything he’s ever had before.

He doesn’t feel much pain anymore these days but thank fuck that he can feel you.

“F-fuck it’s so good! Feels so good!” You moan into the air with the last word drawled out so sensually from your lips.

All those years ago, he didn’t have much appreciation for your appearance and Dabi won’t make the mistake of looking you over as he pounds into you. Your face is blissed out because of him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head from how you’re being fucked dumb, your hands grabbing a fistful of the expensive sheets, your pretty tits bouncing in motion with his thrusts, and your incredible cunt almost has him going stupid the more he fucks into you.

You are a fucking beauty.

“Ah! Fuck, it’s fuckin— wait, I don’t wanna-!”

Dabi pulled out of you only to position you on your knees, pushing your head down to the mattress and making sure his positioning was stable to fuck you.

You’re whining in between your moans, begging him to put you back to how you were so that you could see his face. He’s had plenty of time to stare in awe of you when he would quietly watch you from the distance, this won’t be his only opportunity to fuck you in the ways that he wants. This is the position he always wanted to put you in when he fucked you, you helplessly pinned down with your ass in the air and unable to put yourself back up because he won’t allow you to. And especially with your quirk out of uses, you’d have to hope that your begging would be enough for Dabi to appeal to him.

It’s almost like all those years ago, when he thought he had power over you when he broke into your house.

Except right now he actually does have the upper hand and Dabi can’t help but fuck even harder into you.

So many things that were out of his control but at least he gets to have you in the way that he wants after all this time.

“This is—fuck—you got no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do this, doll.” Dabi grunts as he drives his cock into your little cunt and cherishes how you sob below him. “Fuckin’ better than in my head and dreaming of you, so lemme do whatever I want to you, yeah?”

There’s not much of a verbal response from you aside from a choked out ‘yes’ from your lips.

It’s bliss and this is the closest to heaven that Dabi will ever get to.

Dabi fucks you with filthy expletives spoken to you and pushes your head firmer into the mattress. When your form starts to fail, he pauses only to correct you, a Cheshire grin on his face when the tips of his fingers dig just at the edge of the burn he gave you as he props you up. “Hold your fucking form, you hear me? That’s all you gotta do and you’re failing me.”

He’s being mean but you must like it with the way your cunt gushes around his cock even though you sob apologies and promise to do better.

This is it, this is Dabi’s first time with you and even though it’s not beautiful lovemaking, it’s at least desires being expressed honestly.

“Shit, Dabi please…!” You whimper and manage to grasp his wrist in your hand in hopes that he’d lift it off from your head. “Can I see you please?”

“Wanna see this ugly face, huh doll?”

On some level, Dabi never really settled over how he looked and how he became after that fiery day on the hill.

Borrowed parts and butchered organs, he’s far from healthy both in mind and body.

“I just wanna see you… it’s been so long, why won’t you let me?”

The answer is simple: he just doesn’t feel like it.

But if you’re so insistent on it…

“Ride me then.”

You don’t get much say as Dabi moves quickly to lie on his back and has you impaling yourself on his cock, the new position makes you gasp and your cunt quivers around him so damn good that his eyes roll back a little. And he decided that as you bounce on his dick that maybe letting you look at him isn’t such a bad thing after all. Dabi gets a pretty view of you with tear stains on your cheeks and your cute tits bouncing as you ride him.

This has always been mine.

He thinks that you belonged to him this entire time and that’s why it feels perfect to him. Fate had the two of you met on that rainy day so many years ago and fate had placed Dabi in the right moment to see you all grown up after so many years had passed.

But being able to reunite with you was all his effort.

“‘M gonna cum! Ah—I’m gonna cum!” You announce to him through huffed breaths, stopping your bouncing and more grinding in his lap with vigor. He feels the way your pussy starts getting tight around him and he’s just about there too. “Can I touch myself for you?”

Goddamn, how sweet of you to ask.

“Yeah doll, play with that clit for me and make yourself cum.”

What a pretty sight for him as you play with your clit for Dabi but he won’t cum just from watching you and having you grind in his lap. “Keep touching yourself.” Dabi commands you before he grabs a hold of your hips and lifts you slightly up, only to be sure that you stay in place as he fucks his hips up into you. And because he’s a sadistic fuck, Dabi lifts one hand to slap at one of your burns just to hear you cry out in pain, faltering and moving your hand push his away. Of course the pain startles you but he won’t let you use it as an excuse for stopping. “Did I say to stop? Tch, you stupid bitch.”

You whine but make no rebuttals, only going back to touching yourself for him and just taking what is being given.

“Ooh fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum Dabi…!” You sob to him as your fingers move faster on your clit. He can feel the shake of your body as he continues to fuck into your pussy, glancing down a little to see where you and him are connected and he see that there’s the messy ring of cream that’s dribbling down his cock as he continues to fuck you.

Without giving you any warning, Dabi pulls you to him in a hug. He crosses his arms tight around the upper half of your body and fucks hard into you. You cry into his neck as your whole body shudders in overwhelming pleasure. “Such a fucking good cunt—ngh— gonna let me cum in ya?”

In another life, Dabi would fuck you to show you he loved you, he’d fuck you in your wedding dress after signing a marriage certificate, and he would fuck you to eventually get you pregnant.

But in this life, Dabi fucks you because he only has so much time left to achieve the vision he had so carefully planned over time.

You are not his end all, but he can still cherish that he got a second chance with you.

“Yeah, yeah, please cum in me! You can cum in me Dabi, I want it!”

Faster, faster, faster, and right there-

“Fuck! I love you!” He finally hisses as he rams his cock into you, thick white ropes of cum fill you inside. It’s almost too much and it oozes out even with Dabi still plugged inside you and it feels perfect.

The only sounds in the room are the breaths that you and him are trying together, his head and yours swimming in a sea of euphoria and unable to articulate anything at the moment.

When Dabi’s cock softens, you slowly lift yourself off him and roll to his left side, being sure to keep yourself close to him. You hug his left arm and lightly nudge your head against his, the tips of your fingers slide past the ugly burnt skin of his hand until you twine your fingers with his.

“You gave up on looking for me.” Dabi states and he feels a bitter taste on his tongue when the words leave his mouth. You continued to live your life just as his family continued to live theirs after his supposed death.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper to him, “I love you.”

He squeezes his hand to acknowledge your words.

Dabi has lived long enough to ponder the idea of romance and soulmates or twin flames, all that stupid shit. He thought meeting you was just a fluke but it came out to be more than just a random choice of which house to break into. Being in love was never the plan but Dabi can cherish that at least he found it in you. Even though there is nothing about you that will derail his ambition, Dabi indulges in the selfishness he’s come to embrace in his years and tells you, “Don’t get married.”

Don’t get married and move on without him, not that he thinks you’re capable of it with everything you unveiled to him, but he still feels the need to tell you anyway.

You are not allowed to move on from him.

Your hand squeezes back, having forgotten about the ring in its velvet box and the marriage contract that fluttered to the ground of your balcony. The ring will never be worn by you and the marriage your parents so carefully set you up with will never be consummated.

“I won’t,” you reassure him, “now that you’re here.”

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”