#almost forgot what this thing was called for a sec. it's like. both of its prevos have “fletch” in their names

[front-facing-pokemon]

[lerclan]

duct tape | lando norris

type: written + smau at the end

pairing(s): assistant!reader x lando norris

summary: youve been landos assistant for a while now and you were asked to do the most embarrassing thing ever, but it wasnt you that was the most embarrassed in the situation; it was your boss.

warning(s): a funny and POORLY edited photo of lando norris done by me (i was cackling making it 💀)

fc: luisinha oliveira!

---

"you want me to WHAT???" you spit out your drink.

"kiss him." the photographer, elise, says as you stare at your friend, eyes quite literally bulging out, "come on y/n..."

"you act like i kiss random people for fun." you say as you take a proper sip from your water.

"but hes not a random person?" she fires back as you roll your eyes.

"still. hes my boss and looking at the situation in general, thats quite embarrassing to do." you feel your face heat up, "how about we find someone else? i bet i can call someone with really luscious lips." you take out your phone and start scrolling through your contacts.

"no," she lowers your phone as you look at her, "he said he wanted YOU to do it."

"ME???" your jaw drops as elise starts laughing at your reaction, "youre lying."

"no im not!" she puts her pinky up as you intertwine your pinky with hers, "pinky promise."

"why me though?" you asked her curiously.

"i told him about the idea and how the stylist would do the kiss marks but he said he had the perfect someone to do the kiss marks and said your name." she explains as you give her a look, "okay to make it easier for you, hes gonna have duct tape covering his mouth. its for the aesthetics." your look immediately disappears and is replaced with a relieved expression.

"oh, you shouldve told me that earlier." you say as you finally smile, "that sounds a little bit easier to do."

"my bad, kind of forgot about it till i told you the story. woopsies." you laugh at her as she chuckles cheekily, "lets go to the set, its almost time for him to be ready."

you both arrived at the set and you noticed your boss all geared up next to an f1 car.

"i thought the set would be more scandalously themed, but this is so much better than what i anticipated." you let a breath out as elise laughs at you.

"do you think im a pornographer or something? gosh have faith in your friends innocence." she rolls her eyes jokingly and it was your turn to laugh now.

landos head instantly turned to your direction as he heard your laughter. he didnt know if you had agreed to the suggestion, but he hoped that elise didnt bring it up since he was feeling a little embarrassed now for acting impulsively with suggesting you to do the kiss marks instead of the stylist.

with how caught up he was in his thoughts, stressing over his impulsive move, he didnt realize that you guys were in front of him.

"lando? landooo???" you say waving your hands in front of his face.

"oh–yes? hi?" he says as he finally snaps out of it.

"you were zoning out. what were you thinking about this time?" you asked as he smiles.

"nothing in particular, just a little nervous on what to do in this photoshoot." he admits mostly.

"youre gonna do good, boss. dont worry about anything! just do what you usually do, your fans are gonna love it no matter what." you comfort him with a smile as he reciprocates the same expression.

you guys stare into each others eyes for a bit until elise finally interrupted you both.

"ahem! love birds can you guys contain yourselves for a sec–" you slap her shoulder lightly as she laughs at it as landos face turns a bit red, "i was just kidding!! anyways...im just here to tell you that y/n agreed to the idea, so ill be back with some duct tape and red lipstick." she walks off and you were left with lando.

"so...you agreed???" he asks as he feels his face heating up more from the fact that you agreed.

"yeah, at first i thought i was kissing you straight up...which is a very hard task to do considering our positions, but she told me you were gonna have duct tape over your mouth; so its like an indirect kiss. which i can mostly do." you answer his question with a small chuckle as he feels his face heat up more, "are you good, lan? youre looking kinda...red?? ish???"

"yeah, no, im fine. this is fine. im perfectly normal." he says quickly as you eye him out.

you reached for his forehead and noticed it was a little warmer.

"are you sure? you feel a little warm." you say as you start to panic thinking about his schedule for today.

"y/n, i am perfectly fine. its just the suit..." he lies as you look at him with doubtful eyes.

before you could pester him more, elise came back with red lipstick and duct tape just like she said.

"here, put this on your lips and also tape his mouth shut." she says as you grab the items.

"it will probably do us a favor if his mouth is taped shut." you joke as he rolls his eyes at you.

"gosh whats that supposed to mean?" he side eyes you as you laugh.

"it means..." you drag on as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer his question.

"it means wha—" his sentence gets cut off by you taping his mouth, "hmf mhmhf!!" he tries to talk but it comes out muffled.

"what did he say?" elise asks as you both laugh at his attempt.

"he probably said 'you muppet!', to insult me or something." you answer her, mimicking landos voice.

"sounds like him alright. perfect impression!!" she says as you take a small bow.

you put the duct tape down and opened the lipstick so you could put it on, kiss him, and get done with it already.

"you ready, lan?" you ask him as he puts his hands up to rip the tape off his mouth half way.

"no–wait. i need like a drink or something..." he comes up with an excuse as he feels his face get hot again due to the situation he put himself in.

"come on lando..its a quick peck and boom were finished!" you reassure him feeling a little flustered as you realize what youre actually doing, "come here."

he dodges you as you glare at him.

"WAIT. PLEASE GIVE ME A SECOND." he yells out as you roll your eyes getting impatient.

"okay fine." you go back to the spot you were standing in.

you look at him grab a bottle of water to drink and he starts fanning himself.

"are you sure youre good?" you asked as he nods his head quickly.

"dont worry about him, y/n. hes just feeling a little flustered because hes getting an indirect ki—" elise gets cut off by an empty water bottle getting thrown at her, "what the hell LANDO." she throws the water bottle back at him.

you laugh at their little squabble until the water bottle hit you and now theyre the ones laughing at you.

"I ALWAYS CATCH STRAY BULLETS I SWEAR. cant laugh in peace anymore..." you say as they laugh harder, "ANYWAYS, lando come here and let me kiss you." you feel your face heat up as soon as you realized what you really said.

"yeah let her kiss you lando." elise chimes in with a little melody.

"not like that–you know what–gosh whatever come on lando, you have places to be after this." you say finally grabbing his arm as he gets closer to you.

"okay, just do it..." he says as he grabs your arms and puts it around his neck, "WAIT WAIT WAIT AAAAHHHH!!" he yells out as he sees how close you guys are.

"LANDO MAN UP GOSH." you finally grab his face and kissed him on both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips. directly. completely forgetting the fact that his mouth was not taped shut.

you both dont notice that you guys were kissing lips directly until you both heard a camera click. you guys pulled back and thats when you noticed his lips completely covered in red.

"OH MY GOOOOSHHHH!!!!" elise squeals out as your eyes widen.

"I AM SO SORRY LANDO. I FORGOT YOU DIDNT HAVE IT ON–" you get cut off by lando.

"no, no. its totally fine, y/n...youre good. simple mistake. im completely normal and youre completely normal." he smiles at you, ready to explode from holding in a scream, as you smile back out of relief.

"also...ELISE DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW." you jump her as shes fighting for her life.

you suddenly feel somebody pull you back, which was lando with a huge grin.

"elise, let me see the photo." he says as you look at him.

elise unlocks her phone and pulls up the photo of you and lando kissing, which was a pretty cute angle and photo. you cursed her photography skills.

"you should totally send me that." he says as your jaw drops, "what? its a cute photo of us." he says not knowing where the confidence suddenly came from.

"before y/n dies from a heart attack, have her kiss you again. WITH the tape on this time." elise says as you felt your eye twitch, jaw still on the floor.

you eventually snapped out of shock and reapplied the lipstick so it was more pigmented and you kissed him again, with the tape over his mouth. you looked up at him and realized that he was smiling. you didnt know why, well you had a hint but you didnt wanna act on it.

lando quickly finished his photoshoot and now it was time to go to another place for an interview. you both entered the car and you were met with silence until he spoke up.

"sooo...do you maybe wanna go out for dinner tonight?" he asks breaking the silence as you look at him.

"arent you hanging out with carlos tonight??" you question him as he cheekily smiles at you.

"not–" he takes out his phone and texts carlos something and looks up to look at you, "anymore."

you laugh at his little act and smiled warmly.

"id love to have dinner with you, lan." you met eye contact as he smiles from ear to ear.

he grabs your hand and intertwines them together, keeping it that way till you both arrived at the interview place.

---

landonorris

Liked by ynnn, mclaren, elise_amor, and 1,272,183 others

landonorris dropping in with a kiss 💋

tagged: eaphotography

View all 21,612 comments

---

mclaren our driver has never looked better! 🧡

landonorris thanks, mclaren!!! 🧡🧡🧡

user1 OMG I AM SCREAMINGAHEB

user2 HE LOOKS SO FINE OH MY GOSH

user3 WHY DOES HE LOOK SO SEXY 😻😻😻

user4 real question tho...who gave him those marks? 🤨🤨🤨

user5 probably the stylist or something

eaphotography nuh uh

user5 HUHH???

eaphotography 🤫🧏‍♀️

user6 HELPPPP

user7 im so jealous of the person that did that 😭😭😭

user8 CHAT I WANT HIM SO BAD

carlossainz55 wow is that why you were busy mate?

landonorris no? 🙄

carlossainz55 elise sent me a photo, are you sure? 😒😒

landonorris SHHHHHH

elise_amor LMFAOOO

ynnn MAN WHAT THE FLIP DELETE IT

elise_amor NEVERRRR. YOU GUYS LOOK TOO CUTE.

user9 photo? 🤨

ynnn NOTHING.

user10 what if this was a soft launch or something 😻😻😻

landonorris yeah..that would be totes..crazy...👀

user10 IT IS?!?&2&:

ynnn LANDO SHUT UP.

user11 GUYS LANDO AND HIS ASSISTANT, Y/N, ARE DATING 😳😳😳

user10 I AGREE W YOU

user12 how??

user11 i saw them kiss last night at this one restaurant

ynnn @/landonorris YOU SAID IT WAS A BLIND SPOT...

landonorris woops...cats out of the bag ig ☺️☺️☺️

user11 OH MY GOSH!/!/&2&:

user10 WHAT THE SIGMA

lerclan HELPPP THE PHOTO IS SO FUNNY

---

ynnn

Liked by elise_amor, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 26,173 others

ynnn bro cannot keep his mouth shut. BRING BACK THE DUCT TAPE.

tagged: landonorris

View all 2 comments

---

landonorris IM SORRY IM JUST HAPPY BABE 😻

ynnn youre lucky youre cute ❤️

Comments on this post have been limited

---

authors note(s): iaheiqhehwjq i hope this was good cuz i absolutely had no plot line 💀

ALSO YOU DK HOW BAD I WAS DYING AT ME EDITING THAT PHOTO OF LANDO I LITERALLY COULD NOT BREATHE 😭😭😭

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! darling <3 pt. 1

have you ever wondered if...

the batboys and conner k. have met cam girl! reader?

The answer is..... yes! She has met most of them, but the same cannot be said to the other poor precious viewers of hers ;( feel very bad to the other members of the young justice and teen titans for that.

Warning for everyone: darling and my headcanons is sooooo unserious, and darling is probably a gen z-er whose referencing too much tiktok trends 😭 be warned

and anywho, these are my headcanons for their meetings <33

please repost i luv you >0!!!

　

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

ᵈⁱᶜᵏ ᵍʳᵃʸˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵏᵃ, 'ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗʷⁱⁿᵍ':

one of our witty girl's most biggest and annoying dedicated fans in her stream! (He ranks 3rd in donating, and 1st in annoyance)

this man is LOADED with money, and knowing how darling can get greedy sometimes... yk what happens.

(not like he has any complain tho, as long as her attentions on him, shes allowed to take, take, take, take, and take from him <3)

How he met her fr is during on one of his late night patrols in bludhaven, he finds her on one of the empty streets in the city.

He gasps, very worried but so so excited.

'Bunny! :0' is what this man immediately thinks. Its his term of endearment for you, for looking so innocent and soft... yet so fierce and mischievious once known. (Live you is CRAZY.)

But 'Bunny', after seeing the man in blue and black latex, stood so still to the point of looking like this: 🧍‍♀️

You and him had a staring contest, so awkward and silenttt

Tho he snaps out of his train of thoughts when you finally, start to move.

Nightwing: !!!?!?!??

Darling: ....👋👋

nightwing: ...oh--

The hero of bludhaven could only pout inward, your normally so talkative and so very sharp tongued, so why wont you talk to him like you always do bunny? :( (this man forgot hes in his nightwing persona for a sec 🤦)

Turns out, our dear is very awkward when around people :( (or atleast to strangers face to face, bc she has absolutely ZERO shame when it comes to online people and her friends-- or that depends idk bc girly is unpredictable)

Anyways, before he could speak up, you ran away.

Nightwing was very worried, so he stalked followed you as you make your way back home.

Once you locked your doors and go to sleep, he takes a sigh of relief... but not before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of your address and place.

<3 what a nice little home his darling has.

(From that point on, you see this man in both his hero and civilian persona almost too often for your taste.)

Darlings pov on dick is that hes pretty f*cking annoying, and nightwing is 100 times worse

Fun fact: you often throw things at him, curse at him, or sometimes even FLASH at him whenever hes nightwing.

(he once tripped on a slime you threw and he fell straight down to a garbage can. Whoops.)

you think hes lame sauce and cringe af

you also think hes the type to say 'Golly' Unironically. (Hmm maybe u should start calling him that 😈)

Darling seeing dick/nightwing on top of the roof of another house infront of her own: go home you sicko 😾

Nightwing literally camped on top of it with the rest of the batboys visiting him + watching darling also: 🏃‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ (minus a running jason since he CANNOT be caught watching her as he has the 2nd best relationship with her in his hero identity)

Yandere rating: 100% on money, ∞% for nuisance, 50% for humor (-100% as nightwing sadly)

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

ʲᵃˢᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵈᵈ ᵃᵏᵃ 'ʳᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵒᵈ':

ofc this man is one of her favorites 😒 darling really has both the worst and at the same time, most interesting taste in men.

Hes in your top 10 on donations, but he can be very busy sometimes ;(

(Huhu but dont u worry, he makes up for it by giving u ur well deserved hundred grand before flying away to the next big battle he has <3)

In civilian, he prolly met u loitering around wayne manor's gates

(Dont ask how darling LIVES in bludhaven, yet is also in gotham 💀)

Your pretty face, so familiar, he recognizes you almost immediately even in his disheveled state in the morning.

...you were that p*rnstar. 😦 (ps: u middle fingered at him after hearing dat)

"--hey, okay, i'm sorry for saying that-" after hearing his apology, you put down your raised fists and eyed him. From head to... waistline actually his dick as you see the very scrumptious outline of it even through his baggy pants.

His eyes follows yours and-- hes flustered! Your such a perv, really, even when not in front of your screen you still do things like this?! >:( (not that hes complaining... he knows u like what u see and maybe wears these types of pants just in case u show up somewhere miraculously like today-)

"...You--" he sighs, pinching his nose. Its so early in the morning and your already at work in spreading chaos--- oh.

He stares down below him, feeling your arms hug him with a sweet smile on your face.

He gets hard a bit. God your even more beautiful face to face--

"Teehee, i always wanted to meet one of my fans :D especially you, mr. Big ;)"

...ah, he feels a lot warmer all of a sudden, the faintest red staining his cheeks. You... your such a cheeky little--

"Hey stop THAT!!--" he shouts, as you snuggle him aggressively >:)

(After that, he gives you some hefty money, and you feel very blessed afterwards and asked if hed liked a 'hawk tuah' as a reward)

...he dont know wtf is a hawk tuah. "You and your weird trends..." he groans, but watches you run around. like a playful little kitty.

If your a bunny to dick, then your a small little kitten to him. It makes more sense, you arent fit to be a bunny, your way too loud to be one--

"Hey i heard that >:(" he sees you stomp your feet.

...okay, maybe then just a little bit. Just a little...

Yandere rating: 89% on money, 5% for nuisance, 85% for humor (90% as red hood <3)

(everyone there will be a pt. 2 for tim damian conner and terry so stay tuned 😍)

(update: i think of rewriting this bc pt. 2 is so serious compared to this 😭 i think i was also high)

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 8/?

Prev | Next

Damian knew Richard was following him, but he was too lost in thought to get angry about it. His older brother was going to do what he wanted, anyway.

They ended up downtown. Damian stopped in front of a store. Damian put his hands on the glass, looking at the Phantom memorabilia. A little Phantom plush caught his attention. The plush didn’t have feet; instead, it had a wispy tail. Its eyes were a Lazarus green, and it had snow-white hair. It was mocking him.

“Are you going to buy it?”

Damian didn’t get startled; it was beneath him, but his brother’s voice suddenly speaking to him almost surprised him. He scowled instead.

“I don’t need such a childish thing,” he answered.

“Hmm, well, I want that one,” Richard said while pointing to a stuffed figure of a posing Phantom. Both of its fists were in the air, and he had on a white cape.

Damian followed Richard into the store with crossed arms and a disapproving scowl. The inside of the store was full of Phantom and ghost merchandise. Damian passed a bunch of generic ghost plushies. They were all Lazarus green. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the fact that Amity Park was saturated with that color freaked him out a little

Next, he passed a section named ‘The Villains of Phantoms.’ He thought that was stupid. Why would anyone want to glorify the villains? Then he remembered Batburger and their Jokerized fries. He saw action figures and stuffed toys of a woman in a red and black suit with a grey and pink gun on a board. The Red Huntress, he presumed.

“Found anything you want, Little D?”

Richard was holding the same plushie he had pointed out earlier. Damian knew his older brother wouldn’t leave him alone until he got a toy, so he picked the one that had caught his attention earlier.

They went to pay. The cashier was a bored-looking goth teenager with more piercings than fucks to give, in Damian’s opinion. His name tag read Spike. He didn’t even greet them. Spike rang them up, put their toys in a bag haphazardly, and basically threw it at them.

Damian gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t yell at the insolent teenager.

Spike’s attitude didn’t seem to bother Richard.

“I’m hungry. Wanna go eat?”

Damian didn’t have a chance to answer. Richard got him by the arm and pulled him toward a fast-food joint named ‘Nasty Burger.’ Naming an eating establishment like that seemed like a bad business decision.

The chatter hit him the moment they entered. It was full of teenagers and smelt like grease and sweat. Richard happily approached the counter, and Damian followed his brother with a deep scowl. He just wanted to be left alone with thoughts, dammit, but it seemed his older brother wouldn’t allow him to think in peace.

The cashier was another teenager. She was dark-skinned with curly hair and teal-colored eyes. When she spotted Damian, she looked him up and down in surprise. A part of him felt like she was sizing him up. When her sight landed on his eyes, she got a bit tense.

“Welcome to Nasty Burger. May I take your order?”

Damian looked at the menu and was surprised to see vegetarian options.

“The veggie burger, meal, with a coke,” he said curtly. He might as well since Richard had dragged him here.

“Hello, sorry about my little brother,” Damian’s scowl deepened, “May I have a number one, large, and extra Nasty sauce, please, and thank you?”

“Sure, that’ll be $16.97.”

“Valerie, the sauce is overheating again; I forgot how to cool it down,” a voice cracked from the back.

Valerie scowled and muttered under her breath about incompetence.

“Give me a sec, I’m with customers,” she yelled back, “I’m sorry about that. Here’s your change. We’ll call your number when it’s done.”

Damian followed Richard a bit farther away. Damian was rarely distracted but still thinking about Danyal, so he didn’t notice the big, blond buffoon when they crashed.

“Watch where you’re going, Fenturd!”

The blond threw a punch. Damian got the other boy’s fist, and judo-flipped him over his shoulder. He landed on his back with a thud. The place got quiet.

“Holy shit, did Fenton just beat Dash?”

“No, way, puny freaky Fenton stood up for himself.”

Damian scowled. It seemed the imbecile liked picking on Danyal, and Danyal let him. What was his brother thinking?

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. My brother Damian is a bit panicky and tends to fall heavily on the ‘fight’ side of ‘fight or flight.’ Are you okay,” Richard came to do damage control while helping the other boy, Dash, up. He still seemed a bit dazed.

“Who’s Damian?”

“I am, you imbecile.”

The boy squinted at Damian before his eyes widened, “You’re not Fenturd.”

“Give the man a prize. He can see.”

Dash went up to Damian’s face.

“Listen here, you little turd—”

Damian didn’t feel like listening to the other boy, so he kicked him.

“Damian, stop that!”

Richard pulled Damian to the corner of the diner and sat by Damian so he wouldn’t leave.

“Why’d you stop me? It’s obvious he picks on Danyal!”

“We don’t go after civilians, Dami.”

“Tt.”

“Number 19,” the cashier, Valerie, yelled out.

“Behave,” Richard said while giving him a stern look.

The door to the diner opened, and Damian automatically looked up. His breath caught in his throat. It was Danyal.

He was with a goth girl and a dark-skinned boy wearing a red beret. Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley. His brother was smiling and laughing. Richard came back with their food.

“That’s him,” he asked.

Damian could only nod while observing his twin.

Danyal had deep bags around his eyes. He was scrawnier than Damian, and he walked with a hunch. Almost as if he wanted to disappear. Looking back on his memories, Danyal always walked like that. It made sense, he supposed. Why would he want to draw attention to himself if it had always been negative?

“He looks like a mini-Bruce.”

The girl said something, and Danyal’s smile grew bigger. There were crinkles around his eyes.

They went to the counter, and Valerie told them something before pointing toward their table. Danyal looked up and saw both of them sitting. Damn, now what?

____

Bruce was going to be sick.

Reading the Anti-Ecto Act laws pissed him off. How had he and the Justice League not noticed government-sanctioned genocide? Worse, they were targeting his son.

“Tim, find any information you can and put it in a file. I’m going to contact the Justice League. We have to fix this.”

He took out his phone and dialed a number he hated having to call.

“What do you want, Batsy? I’m busy here.”

“Constantine, I need your help.”

@itsberrydreemurstuff @youracearocroatneighbour @imsotiredfanficlovertm @nek0mancer

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(AHHHH IMPENDING BUDDIE REUNION IM SO SCARED I HOPE IT GOES WELL!!!!)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(loving darling cranberry and I want Buck and Eddie to address their tension!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(switcharoo world now with a pending will reveal! Can’t wait!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(TWATYTK my beloved i love seeing happy established Buddie!)

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊 (oooh we love a dramatic reunion in a rain storm!)

It is taking all my restraint to not send you 30+ emojis for each story because I’m just that excited about your writing! You’re wonderful thanks for sharing!

HI AGAIN!!!!! You can send as much as you want I've been getting some huge ones haha.

48 for 🩸(IT GOES A LOT OF WAYS):

---

Everyone is tired and emotional and overwhelmed. So even after Eddie has showered and changed into pajamas - and eaten another peanut butter sandwich and a full orange - they all agree to go to bed early without too much further conversation. Better to hash things out with a fresh mind.

“Do you even sleep at night?” Sophia had asked while Eddie’s mouth was stuffed full of orange slices. “Because most of the vampires we’ve met are semi-nocturnal.”

Eddie had scoffed. Like he’s some sort of creature. But, to be fair… His body would choose daytime sleeping if it had a choice. 

“Well, if I sleep during the day, I’m more likely to spontaneously turn into a bat when the sun goes down.” Eddie had retorted. 

When Sophia called him a dick, he knew he deserved it. 

Which brings him to now, hiding from them both a little, in the confines of a bedroom that is technically his, but smells like Buck. Feels like Buck. Has been Buck’s. Hiding from them is maybe an exaggeration. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t quite know how to balance his remorse and his love and his fear in their presence. 

Just as Eddie is about to give into exhaustion and actually go to sleep, there’s a soft rap on the bedroom door. 

“Come in,” Eddie calls.

Buck cracks the door open and looks through. 

“Hey,” Eddie mumbles.

“Hi,” Buck steps in and shuts the door behind him. His right hand is shut around something. “Got a sec?”

Eddie has all the secs. He has nothing else in his life. In fact, he’s not even sure if he’s aging or not. So he might have infinite secs. Though he still needs to shave, so maybe he’s not in suspended animation. 

“Of course.” Eddie says. 

“Forgot this earlier,” Buck mumbles. He walks across the room to where Eddie is sitting on the bed and presses something cool and metal into Eddie’s palm. 

He knows instantly what it is.

Eddie releases a shaky breath as he looks at the contents of his palm. His medallion. The St. Christopher medallion. The one he’d lost the night Kim killed him. The night he almost killed Buck.

“You had it,” Eddie says, squeezing the hard metal and looking gratefully up at Buck. 

“It broke off when…” Buck can’t finish.

“Oh,” Eddie fills in the blanks. “I didn’t entirely remember.”

Buck nods. “I had the chain fixed.”

“Thank you for keeping it safe,” Eddie whispers.

---

15 for 🦮 (they shall get there!):

---

It probably could have gone on like that - steady and unchanging - for a while, if not for Bobby and Athena’s dinner party. Usually, they’d have it at their house. In the backyard. A nice barbecue or something. But, because Bobby and Athena’s wedding plans were soured by Bobby’s suspension, Shannon dying, and Buck losing a leg, they never had a proper party. Just a small courthouse ceremony with the kids. So now they’ve invited their closest friends and family out to a dinner at a fancy seafood place in Redondo Beach, months later, to properly celebrate. 

This is, of course, not a problem on its own. In fact, it’s a lovely thing and Buck is very happy to be invited. Bobby continuing to include Buck in his life means more than Buck can properly express. 

The problem is the small fact that, on his way to an upscale restaurant in which he dresses in proper slacks and an ironed shirt, Buck decides to forgo bringing Cranberry. He really doesn’t think much of the decision at first. She’s okay home alone for a few hours. He’s got a wire crate set up for her now. And he’s not even driving. Maddie and Chim are picking him up.

---

30 for 🚨(I'm so close toa big moment I have to be careful what I post here):

---

It’s a loud afternoon turned quiet night. After Eddie gets home from the lawyer’s, fate changed in ink, he returns home to find a clingy, shaken Christopher. 

“Tia said you had a bad night at work and Buck said you were hurt but not as hurt as you could have been but you have bruises everywhere, and are you okay, Daddy?”

Eddie can’t fault him. He was scared of being lost to his son, too. So instead of talking to Buck about things, like he might have, they spend the day comforting Christopher. Spending easy, uncomplicated hours playing Mario Kart and watching movies. Buck builds a small cushion fort and orders them Chinese food for dinner. And really, truly, it’s a beautiful sort of day. The kind of day any parent wants to lock away in their memory like a little treasure. It’s just a shame it came as the result of everyone fearing for Eddie’s life.  

Christopher crashes early. The stress has clearly caught up with him. Eddie tucks him in and reads him a story and stays with him a little bit longer than he might, usually. He’s getting bigger. Older. Soon he won’t even want this. And Eddie will have only gotten a fraction of these years. To think, he was so certain fatherhood wouldn’t suit him. That he would be bad at it. Maybe he isn’t anything to write home about, but he thinks of how he pulled himself out of a watery grave for this boy, he thinks about how he is willing to plan for the worst to protect him, and Eddie thinks maybe he has some merits. 

He hopes, sincerely, that his life isn’t cut short. That he gets some time in this role. He loves it so dearly, now.

“I missed you yesterday,” Chris yawns as Eddie puts the storybook down on his nightstand. He cuddles his tiny body into Eddie’s chest. 

“I missed you, too,” Eddie whispers, stroking his curly hair. “So much.”

One day, maybe, Eddie will feel like his son is old enough to hear that he loved him so much he refused to drown. The same way Buck had refused to drown that day at the pier.

---

45 for ⚡️:

THIS IS A RATHER SPOILERY SECTION SO PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!

---

The thing is, Buck can’t forget about it. Not just during the blurry, hungover morning after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. But in the weeks after, either. His brain seems to have clamped onto it with a vice grip. 

Almost as much fun as we’ll have at our wedding.

A funny little sentence that Eddie didn’t seem to remember saying the next morning. Though, given the way Eddie complained about his hangover for the following fourteen hours, Buck thinks there must be a decent amount he doesn’t remember. The important thing is, Buck remembers. 

Buck remembers, and Buck can do with that information as he pleases. And what he pleases might very well be to give Eddie that fun, happy wedding he was drunkenly talking about. 

See, Buck thinks - after a totally reasonable amount of time spent considering this - that Eddie wasn’t just drunk and joking. He thinks he does want it. Even if he’s not saying so in sober conversation yet. When they got together, Eddie had said he wanted everything with Buck. And so far, the uncertainty about more children has been the only exception in that totality. But Buck knows Eddie takes marriage seriously. He knows Eddie takes them seriously. And he had really, truly seemed to love Maddie and Chim’s wedding. So it seems like a natural next step. Not just to check off boxes, but because the idea of celebrating their commitment to each other feels right. Buck wants that. If Eddie wants that too, then they should do it. 

So, three weeks after Maddie and Chim’s wedding, just as April is about to fade into May, Buck decides. 

He’s going to ask Eddie to marry him. 

He just has to plan how. 

☆☆☆

Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It settled over him like a warm blanket when he was drunk at the wedding, but even sober and with distance, it still feels right. He wants to be married to Buck. 

If he’s going sheerly on impulse, and what his heart says, he wants to be married to Buck, like, yesterday. Two years ago, even. If he’s going with what his head says - notoriously known for confusing him and leading him down the path to self-doubt - Eddie has concerns. Not about Buck, of course. Never about Buck. Buck is, despite some of his more baffling moments, perhaps the most marriageable person Eddie has ever known. Truly just husband material. If Buck was the only variable, it would be a no-brainer.

Unfortunately, Eddie has a habit of taking no-brainers and adding quite an afflicted brain to them. 

It’s not Chris, either. Even with Christopher’s initial concerns about their relationship. If anything, marrying Buck would stamp out any of those doubts he had about Buck leaving. Hell, if they were married, Buck could do a pretty simple step-parent adoption, if he wanted. Not that Eddie has researched that. Point is, he thinks Christopher would be glad if Eddie told him he was considering this.  So, really, once again, as with many things, Eddie is the source of his own frustrations. Classic Eddie. Though beating himself up for wanting to think through a significant life decision like a marriage - a second marriage - doesn’t seem fair either.

---

And finally, 18 stormy sentences for 🌊:

---

Eddie chases after him. He closes the door behind him, thankful for the dampening effect on the noise of the storm. 

“Eddie? Hi.” Maddie says warily from across the bar. She’s holding a bundle of sleeping bags in her arms. 

“Hi, Maddie,” Eddie says.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” Buck tells him, not bothering to even look back over his shoulder. 

Eddie holds his tongue, despite his brain’s urge to point out the absurdity of this comment. 

Eddie tries again. “Buck-”

“Oh, it’s probably Evan.” He cuts him off. 

Probably. Not definitely. 

Eddie can work with that.

“Okay, Evan. Please reconsider."

[fruitcoops]

Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

--

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

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

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like��poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

��What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

[melo-yello]

💤Can’t Sleep💤 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku🪨💥 HeadCanons

Pairing(s): KiriBaku X black!reader, Eijirou Kirishima X Katsuki Bakugou X black!reader

A/N: fluff and ANGST. Like lots of ANGST. I had a rough week and honestly not very much sleep. What can I say. Sue me, I wanna hug and somebody to watch a movie with.

💤💥🪨 Lay on your stomach opening and closing your eyes as you try and convince yourself to sleep. Kirishima snores softly with an arm around Bakugou’s waist. He’s been pretty stressed lately so he gets to be middle spoon. Baku in turn has an arm draped over your shoulders.

💤💥🪨 The soft and peaceful looks on the boys’ faces are nothing but safe and warm and reassuring . Yet here you are unavailable to close your eyes long enough to drift off to sleep. Each time you close your eyes your heart attempts to tear a whole through your chest. The dim red light of the clock reads 2:56 as you slip out of Baku’s embrace for a glass of water

💤💥🪨 You settle on Jasmine tea instead. Quietly pulling a the kettle from the cabinet and turning on the tap just before placing it on the stove. You busy yourself in your phone in order to banish any form of thought from your head. Soon just blankly browsing through TikToks as you wait for the water to boil

💤💥🪨 The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention as you hear heavy footsteps and the creaking of the bedroom door. Short angry grumbles are traded with deep groggy grunts as the footsteps close in on your position. You glance up to see the time is now 3:22 and you hear the kettle whistling for the first. Mostly likely what woke your boyfriends to begin with. You scowl at the kettle.

💤💥🪨 “fuck you.” you curse under your breath snatching up the kettle to quiet it’s shouting as the two set of red eyes fix on you in the dim light of kitchen. Kiri’s long red hair pulled back into a messy plat, and Baku’s fluffy ash blonde sticking out in all directions except for the right side flatten to the side of his skull

💤💥🪨 “Oí, Chuchu Soul, do you have any idea what time it is?!!” Baku squints tiredly placing a hand on his hip. “That’s actually a good one.” You giggle surprised by his creativity. “I know right?! And they used to call him uncreative.” Kirishima smirks between a yawn. “ Well?” Bakugou’s features don’t change. More likely mad that he’s awake at this ungodly hour than anything else. “Was it another panic attack, Pebble?” Kiri questions walking to rest his hand on your lower back. You don’t acknowledge his soft gesture and busy yourself with pouring the newly hot water into your large mug with it’s awaiting tea bag.

💤💥🪨 “Run that shit back, Eiji?!? When was this?” Bakugou’s foggy apathetic sleepiness raises to concerned confusion . You curse under your breath for the third time tonight. Kiri racks his tired brain for an explanations as he trades tired glances between the temperamental blonde and the vaguely suspicious one blowing at tea. “Pebble you didn’t tell him about Friday Night?” He frowns looking down at you. “...i forgot...” you whisper sipping the overly hot tea and burning your tongue. Hell you wouldn’t have told him either, but he was right beside you when it happened.

💤💥🪨 That Friday night. You couldn’t speak. You stood in a dark room. Small and cramped. No windows. No doors. Just glowing ink on one wall in barely legiable font. Prove It. As soon as you touched the lettering it went blood red and the water began to pool at your feet. You begin to lose your composure trying to find an exit. In seconds the water is at your waist. Then your neck. Then the ceiling. Like that you’re choking and sputtering trying to find. The walls go translucent. Larger than life figures with unmistakable silhouettes and Pro hero customs hold your box in each hand. You bang tight fists to gain their attention. Your blood mixes with the water and you could barely breath. You thrashed across the sheets desperately trying to snatch yourself from your current nightmare. Suddenly Kiri shaking you awake and he’s coaching you into breathing again.

💤💥🪨 The memory of utter helplessness washes over you all over again. You sigh in frustration as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. “Come here, Pebs.”

💤💥🪨 Without another word, Kiri scoops you up bridal style and takes a seat on the couch placing you in his lap. Baku takes the seat next to him gently taking the hot tea from your trembling hands. You hadn’t even realized they were shaking until you touched his steady ones. “Babes, we hafta talk about this. Including Friday, this makes 3 days of shitty sleep. That’s not good or sustainable, Knucklehead.” Bakugou sighs placing the mug on the coffee table before wiping away a tear rolling down your cheek.

💤💥🪨 “It’s not like I don’t wanna do better, Kats. Eiji. I’m just...” you trail off mid explanation. You clasp fingers over your soft lips. Opening twice to speak, but only croaks come out. You try very hard to find a tangible reason for your reluctance to sleep, but there were none. Kiri squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your bonnet.

💤💥🪨 “We know you’re trying, love. It’s ok to be scared sometimes. Even the resident hardass, Katsuki still gets nightmares.” Kiri offers doing his best to let you ride these feelings out while comforting you as well. “Yea.”Baku’s grip tightens at the mention of his own nightmares before leaning his head on your legs

💤💥🪨 “I just can’t trust it ok! It’s scary. I’m panicking in sleep now?!! I’m only getting worse and now I crying about. FUCK! I’m just a scared bitchy crybaby who can’t sleep.” You sigh overwhelmed by all the physical closeness and their consistent and unwavering support. You mentally kick yourself for the not realizing sooner that you trusted them enough to hurt like this in front of them. There’s something that unnerves you about that. Tears streaming at full force at this piont

💤💥🪨Kiri holds you firmly to chest tucking your shaking form under his chin. Baku moves to wrap an embrace overlapping Kiri’s arms. “Just let it all out, Babygirl.” He hums leaning his head on your shoulder. Your chest tightens and your fingers curl into angry fists. Suddenly your frighteningly fierce temper rears it’s ugly head.

💤💥🪨 “No no no NO! Stop It! STOP ACTING SO NICE! STOP ACTING LIKE I DESRVE THIS! BE DISAPPOINTED! BE UPSET!! TELL ME TO TRY HARDER! TELL ME TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF MYSELF! TELL ME IT’S EASY! REALLY EASY! BE ANGRY I’M FUCKING IT ALL UP! BLAME ME! I BLAME ME! I blame me... I blame me for not being...better.” You fume trying to push them away. You do your best to squirm out of their gentle comfort and tender embrace your lovers have you wrapped in. Neither one of your boys moves. “No way, Pebs.” Kirishima says resolutely. “Not a fucking chance, Teddy.” Bakugou nods with the same unchanging confidence. The rage in your chest melts as fat tears and roll down your brown cheeks.

💤💥🪨 A heaving and broken sob racks your entire body as you fall apart in their arms. Anger subsides into terrified uncertainty and overwhelming futility settles in its place. Tears and mucus flood down your face and soak Kiri’s t-shirt. Sniffles from above draws you out of the dark thoughts swarming around you. Surely enough tears drip slowly down Kiri’s cheeks. Instinctively you cup his face with trembling hands. “...Sorry.. I’ll be strong...just gimme a sec” he mutters as his broad shoulders slump and he moves to bat away the falling droplets. Bakugou grabs his hand and kisses it while wiping the red head’s face. “Eijirou, you don’t have to. Not right now” You sputter between choppy breaths.

💤💥🪨 His usually unwavering features muddy with insecurity. A fairly uncommon expression for someone so death defyingly optimistic and confident. “But it’s what I’m good at. If I can’t be strong for the people I love most then what good am I?” He retorts apathetically tightening his grip as the tears still trickle. You slink an arm around his hips, and place your face to his chest. “Bullshit. You’re plenty strong enough for us, Eijirou. Stop being so hard headed!” Bakugou raves putting a hand behind his neck and his forehead against his for emphasis before continuing, “You’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You are complex and unique and fearless and fearful all in one. You’re human, Eiji. It’s ok.”

💤💥🪨 “Katsuki, you’re so compassionate and kind.” You hum softly and absentmindedly almost. You don’t know why this observation came but it just feels right. Eiji smiles leaning in the blonde’s embrace. “Honestly Kats, you love remarkably deep and painfully unselfishly. Thank you.” Kiri hums kissing his cheek and you do the same. Hot little tears rest at the corners of his dark red eyes. Most of the public thinks he’s some kind of angry asshole devoid of any softer emotions. Comments on your relationship often criticized Katsuki for snagging partners ‘much nicer than he deserved’. And just like that you are scooting over to make room for Bakugou in Kiri’s lap. 

💤💥🪨 “Such a shitty little week.” Baku sighs with misty eyes. There’s a small comfort in the collective collapse washing over the three of you. All of you holding the hurt from the others in hopes it would just fizzle away like a bad dream. It didn’t. You sob, Kiri sniffles, and Baku lets two hot tear slip from his glassy eyes. None of you break contact with each other. Your fingers linked with Kiri and Baku’s in the opposite hand. A head glued affectionately onto the red head’s broad shoulder. After what seems like a lifetime and you can’t cry anymore and feeling a surprising amount of relief sinks onto you, you clear your throat.

💤💥🪨 “Wanna watch How to Train a Dragon?” You rasp with tired and strained vocal chords. “I’ll get the popcorn.” Kiri sighs kissing each of you on the cheek as he ushers you both out of his lap. He sashays into the kitchen to find a bowl and the popcorn. Baku stands handing you your cool tea as he grabs the remote. Flipping decisively through Amazon Prime, he queues up the movie as he settles onto the far side of the couch to lay out fully. You sip contently tucking your knees to your chest so you can press the soles of your feet into his. “That tickles.” Bakugou deadpans wiggling his own toes. Soft giggles flutter out of your chest.

💤💥🪨 Kiri strolls back in the room with two large bowls of popcorn and a blanket on each arm. He bows presenting them to their proper owners. Movie theater butter for Baku and kettle corn for you two to share. You sit your now empty mug on the coffee table as Kiri retakes his original spot and you settle comfortably into his lap cocooning you both in a cozy weighted blanket. Baku draped in a light throw typically the first to complain about being hot. The DreamWorks title sequence floats across the screen, and wave of peacefulness falls over the tired trio. Less then five minutes in, you and Bakugou snore quietly as Kiri’s heavy eyelids fight to watch the next couple scenes

[lozzypoz321]

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long!!! But I am quite surprised that my current 200 followers (wow) haven’t unfollowed by now but this is my 200 celebration fic even though I’m a bit late- also I’m sorry if this sucks I just haven’t written in ages! Please bare with me! Kindly proofread by @canadianhufflepuffavenger 💗

Warnings: angst, past break up

Your real dad

-

Steve tightened his grip around your draw-string bag that he had convinced you to part ways with, as you, him and your mother made your way into the tower. He was dreading the reunion with Bucky after not seeing the team for about 2 weeks. You were practically bouncing on your feet to see your real dad. While Steve was there watching you treat your dad like a hero but not even spare him a glance.

Your family relationship was complicated yet simple at the same time: you hated your mom but tolerated her, loved your dad with all your heart, hated your stepdad as much as he tried, treated Peter like your brother and Thor exactly like your uncle.

Why did you hate your stepdad so much?

Well, first of all, he pretended like he was your real dad and tried to do all of the things with you that you and Bucky did together. Second, he always stole all your moms attention and made you feel like you were alone (whether he meant it or not)

The elevator door dinged, indicating that the three of you had reached your floor where currently Bucky, Thor, Tony, Natasha and Sam were hanging out, waiting for your “family”. The others were in the kitchen, trying to get a sneak taste of the food that had been ordered.

“Dad!” You yelled and raced up to the super soldier, he broke out into a grin and picked you up off the ground to invade you into a bone-breakinghug. “Hiya doll face.”

You grinned back at him and got down from his arms briefly to run across the room to retrieve your drawstring back so you could show your dad your new spiderman action figure that had been bought by your cousin Peter.

“Look! Look!”

He smirked slightly at your excited demeanour as you held up the toy as high as you could while jumping up and down for him to see. Once he’d figured out who the character was, you had already gone running off to see what Wanda and Vision had baked in one of the many kitchens.

“Hey Buck” Steve acknowledged as friendly as he could, it wasn’t that the two ‘friends’ hated each other, but there was definitely some tension in the room as the two sat parallel. Tony cleared his throat and mentioned something about having a cough as he quickly left the room.

“I better see where he got off to” Natasha and your mother said at exactly the same time, not wanting to experience what they thought was about to go down.

“Hi Steve” the older soldier greeted back, not sure what the intentions of the conversation were exactly. In the tower, the history between both soldiers and your mother was known but not really spoke of- Bucky dated your mother for quite a while (almost four entire years), and got her pregnant with you, but- as everybody was sure to know- all good things must come to an end- and the two broke up on good terms. That was before Steve Rogers himself got involved at a certain billionaire’s party when they realized they were (and this is in your mother's words) “meant for each other.”

“I’m erm, here to speak to you about something.” As if the awkwardness present in the room was no longer enough before, by now it was almost too much. Thor and Sam took the most obvious hint and left the room in search of something else to occupy their time.

“Well, you’re free to speak-“ Bucky was interrupted by the loud sound of laughing from behind the wooden door and almost instantly after a hushing sound. The two men had completely different reactions to this, Steve was utmostly confused, both eyebrows scrunching together, while Bucky’s face held a small smile. He knew exactly who was trying to eavesdrop and it just proved how much Steve did not know his stepdaughter from the fact he didn’t immediately know. “(Y/N),” he called out, the humour evident in his voice, “Parker, we know you're out there.”

“Awww, Peter you gave our secret identities up!”

By now Steve had caught on to the two of you and laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that his only chance to ask Bucky his question alone, was interrupted.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing Peter, dressed up in his spiderman suit for dramatic effect and you with a bandana on, which you thought made you look like a ninja and you held your action figure tightly in your left hand.

“(Y/N), you know it’s rude to eavesdrop” Steve scolded you, trying to be firm. You ignored him and shrugged your shoulders before going to follow the scent of Chinese food.

“Doll,” your dad stopped you “don’t ignore people, you know not to do that” he stood up from his spot on the sofa and began to also make his way to the kitchen, you right beside him muttering a small “okay dad.”

Steve tried not to let his heart sink as his best friend walked away. He would just have to try and get Bucky alone at another point in the night. If he didn’t get an answer, then he would have no use for the small box that was sitting in his trouser pocket.

“Bonjour,” Clint greeted the two of you as you both arrived for food, the island set up with enough plastic plates for everyone (Tony couldn’t be bothered with hiring people to wash normal, expensive ones multiple times a day)

Your mother smiled at you from the other side of the kitchen, but she was immediately confused when you didn’t smile back. The reason you had not, is because you had a feeling you knew exactly what question your stepdad had for Bucky and did not at all like the sound of it.

“Fries?” Bruce offered, tilting the box of food towards you. You nodded gratefully and grabbed a handful. The conversations at the table were mixed; Thor ranting passionately about the food at his home planet, Tony mumbling something about not even being hungry anyway (you thought he was just being salty since he didn’t get his Shawarma), Bucky and Sam having a silent argument across the table, and Peter was busy singing Christmas songs in his best Santa Claus voice.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, and in case you didn’t seeeee” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically at the teenager making everyone laugh.

“Hey don’t get annoyed at me! Everyone loves Christmas!”

You used to love Christmas before your parents separated and you weren’t allowed to spend the holiday with your dad.

“I don’t like Christmas,” your dad shrugged half mindedly while taking a sip of his soda. Peter looked at him like he had two heads and exclaimed in shock, “that impossible!”

“It ain’t kid,” Bucky chuckled while your mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably, realizing the reasoning.

While you worked your way through the pile of noodles, Thor’s incessant ranting came to an end, and the teenager had seemingly run out of songs, the group of superheroes decided to hang out in the living room and watch a movie before you, Steve and your mother had to go home.

“Which one?” Nat asked the room while holding up two movies, the nightmare before Christmas and the corpse bride. Both Halloween movies, neither particularly scary.

“How could one have a nightmare on the day before Christmas? Surely that is against the rules of the Holiday Christmas, that is based on happiness?” Thor asked, earning a quizzical look from you. “Stop tryna act like Shakespeare big man” Tony laughed while grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it all into his mouth.

Steve ignored the billionaire, and while no one seemed to be paying attention he directed his attention to Bucky, swallowing nervously. “Hey Buck, can I speak to you for a sec outside?”

Confusion spread over the soldier’s face for a split second before complying and getting up from the couch with Steve as discreetly as possible as to not raise suspicion from the rest of the team and you.

“What’s up?” He asked once they’d reached the hallway outside, he didn’t know what was up with the younger man but he could easily tell that he’d been acting nervous around himself and your mom.

“Um, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes or no or anything-“

“Your ranting.”

He stopped and thought for a second, wondering how to put it. “I know it’s been complicated recently, and I know this might make it worse with all your history with (Y/M/N) and (Y/N) but I really do love both of them and since (Y/M/N)’s parents passed a while ago, there’s no one to really ask for their blessing so I guess I’m here to ask you, can I have your blessing to propose to (Y/M/N)?”

Bucky stood emotionless for a second, not knowing how to react. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Steve and support him or to be angry. He had both reasonable attributes for each option but was cut short when he heard the sound of a door banging against its hinges on the floor above.

Both of your dad’s eyebrows scrunched together, who was that? Everyone in the tower knew not to do it because Tony despised it, and everyone with a brain knew that when Tony got annoyed, bad things happened.

Then almost instantly after the door entering the living room revealing an awkward Loki “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation but your daughter slash stepdaughter, just ran upstairs in tears so if you could quickly wrap this little moment up, it would be greatly appreciated”

Bucky’s heart stopped, why were you crying?

He and Steve completely forgot about their previous conversation and quickly headed upstairs, nearly running Peter over in the process coming from the toilet. But just as they reached the door where you normally stayed when you came for sleepovers, Bucky stopped and put a finger to his lips.

“I think I should go in.” Instead of arguing, and saying that it would be good ‘bonding time’ to get you to like him, Steve silently agreed and let your dad go in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gently closed the door behind himself, instantly catching sight of you sat on the carpeted floor, furiously wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he took ahold of both of your wrists and set them down on your lap, “why’re you crying doll?”

Tears continued to stream unapologetically down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to tell him. That you had snuck out of the living room to see where the two had gone and then eavesdropped into their conversation, and once hearing your stepdad (who you did not like at all) was going to become a permanent part of your life, ran off crying.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shook your head, making him sigh. “Please tell me, I wanna know why. You trust me right (Y/N)?”

The simple nod was all he needed, yet his heart still ached. Seeing his only daughter in tears and didn’t trust him enough to tell him why? It was heartbreaking for him. “I don’t want him to marry mom,” you quietly admitted, “the only reason I’m still allowed to see you is because she thinks I still need a father figure, so now he’s gonna be here forever I won’t be- I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, trying to find a way to comfort you. “You will, I promise. I’ll always be apart of your life doll. No one can ever take you away from me because you're my daughter and I love you so so much, m’kay?”

You sniffled and wiped the final tears from your cheeks. “Okay.”

Before you could both get up and return downstairs to finish the movie, Bucky stopped you and lifted you up to whisper something to you.

Once he had finished you pulled back and nodded hesitantly, realizing that you should put your grudge behind you and face a fear.

Your dad and you returned outside, Steve waiting patiently while resting on the wall, gently smiling at you to make sure you were okay.

“Go on doll,” Bucky quietly urged, making you take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I give you my blessing to marry mom.” Steve’s heart skipped multiple beats as his brain tried to process what you had said. You’d finally accepted him into your life?

He broke out into a grin, trying to form words to thank you without seeming like this meant the absolute world to him. “Thank you (Y/N). I appreciate it so much.”

Bucky was proud of you for taking a leap and letting Steve into your life when you were scared. He realized at that moment that even if you did have a dad and a stepdad at the same time, he’d fulfilled his role already.

Taglist: @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever @hera-the-writer @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @js3639 @am3l1a-24 @bonkybarnes107 @ilovemarvel-andcats @sapphireplums @deannawallacee @keenmarvellover @garbage-potato @mollbt @spookybooisa

[apixrl]

MORNING CUDDLES.

eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 2.8k

note(s): eiji and his partner call each other love 25/8 and no u cannot tell me otherwise >:(

italian translation - translator !!

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Your hand snuck its way out from under the duvet, blindly searching for your phone in order to shut off the nuisance that was your alarm. Once you did, you slowly let your eyes drift open and meet the blank canvas of the ceiling above.

The sun was peeking through the blinds off to the left side, causing streaks of light to form on your bedroom walls and bed itself. None of them obstructed your vision luckily, there was nothing worse than lying in bed only to have the sun blind you. A light snore interrupted your tiredness and caused your eyes to open wider, directing them off to the right to meet that of your boyfriend, Eijirou.

As per usual, he looked at peace during his state of slumber. His mouth hung slightly open to reveal his iconic sharpened teeth as snores broke through them. His usual gelled up hair was now ironed down to structure his face and practically conceal it with the amount there. It swept over one of his eyes - though didn't stop the scar on his right one peeking through. The rest of his hair was mushed up between his cheek and the pillow his head lay on.

You smiled at the sight, losing yourself in his handsomeness for a moment before leaning forwards to peck his forehead softly. You then pulled back the covers on your side, making an effort (reluctantly) to sit yourself up and swing your legs over the end of the bed. Just as you were about to find the means to stand, something tugged you back causing you to gasp. It was only when Eijirou's voice hit your ear that you processed what happened.

"Morning," The redhead let out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual to signal the classic case of morning croak, something you always loved to hear first thing. An arm snaked around your front to pull you back against Eijirou's abdomen. With a little smile, you turned your face to the love of your life, who was tiredly gazing at you.

"Good morning," You faintly sang. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhhm," Eijirou replied, using his spare hand to reach up and rub his waking eyes at the same time as he released a mighty yawn. "You?"

"Like a baby," Was your answer as Eijirou allowed his hand to gently graze your forearm affectionately. You hummed softly, not wanting to move one bit from the comfort. If anything, you would have liked to have remained under his touch the entire day. Something about his subtle physical signs of adoration brought you head over heels for him, even more so than you already were. But you knew it couldn't last forever. So after a minute of sweet quiet, you proceeded to shift forwards to try and get up. Only to find the grip on you tighten and a disgruntled noise of protest to leave Eijirou's throat.

"Love, I gotta get up," You spoke and turned back to him with a sigh. "I've got that meeting at 10, remember?"

"No," Was the only thing you received back from your partner. Eijirou looked up gently into your E/C eyes. "Five more minutes?"

At first, you went to say a flat no, mainly because you'd expected him to act like this despite knowing full well you were going out. But you eventually concluded on a compromise to try and be smart about it. Fingers playing with the sheets of your bed, you spoke up once more.

"How about you let me go grab us a hot drink and then five more minutes?" It seemed to do the trick. Eijirou paused in thought before gently mumbling an 'okay', the grip on you loosening to give you the freedom to stand up. Once you stood upright you looked back to Eijirou, who was following your every move through tired red eyes.

"I'll come back in sec okay?"

"You better,"

This clingy side to Eijirou usually came out on the first day or two of him having time off work. Since he was a Pro-Hero he could sometimes be working days on end without a break, so moments like this the pair of you really treasured to maintain a healthy relationship. You smiled during your trip to the kitchen, his touch still on your mind as you started to prepare yourself a steaming F/H/D and a simple black coffee for Eijirou.

On your way back to the bedroom you made a pit stop to go to the toilet and somewhat freshen yourself up. All you did was brush your hair and wash your face (you planned to do make-up later) and then you were heading back to Eijirou. You opened the door with your foot since both hands were occupied by mugs.

"I told you I wasn't going to be long,"

"It was too long," His voice came from the bundle of covers, a head poking out from under as you saw a flash of a toothy grin. It was more tired than usual but still held the same passion nonetheless.

"Somebody's impatient,"

"Whatever. Now let me use you as a pillow," Eijirou uttered, waiting for you to put the drinks down and to get into bed. Pulling back the cream covers of your shared bed you were soon engulfed by arms as a head found refuge on your chest.

"Happy?" You said with a laugh. Eijirou nodded and let his eyes close, listening to the sound of your heartbeat against his cheek with a soft grin. He then felt himself get even more at home when your fingertips guided themselves to play with the ends of his hair.

"Yes,"

---

"Come on, Eijirou... I need to go get ready," You whined, rolling your eyes at the silence you received back. Only the soft and light pecks of kisses landing on your shoulder blade signalled Eijirou's distraction, almost pretending to be deaf for his own personal benefit. You rolled back in order to make him stop, looking up at Eijirou in protest. At first, he sent you a nearly offended gaze at daring to make such a movement, claiming he wasn't finished and had intentions of carrying on. Though slowly his jaw altered to a pout, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Do you have to go?" Eijirou mumbled and leaned down to peck your lips.

"Yes, I do," You answered.

"Can't you just call in sick or something?"

"I already did that three weeks ago... so probably not,"

"Please?"

"I said I can't. Now get up, lazy bones,"

You went to get up once more, this time forcing yourself through the gripping fingers and hands of Eijirou to escape the bed. When you came out successful you released a small laugh of triumph much to Eijirou's dismay. It was there you walked to your closet and took the clothes hanging over the door on a clothing hanger, looking back at Eijirou whose face had now emerged further from under the covers to watch you.

"Is it even an important meeting, love?" Eijirou said, eyes following as you shuffled back to the bed and put the clothes at the bottom. You released a sigh as you turned to put the clothing hanger back in the closet, not aware of the cheap move Eijirou made when you weren't looking and instead answered his question.

"Not really? But because I missed the last one - no thanks to you, I think it'd be better I should get to this one," Wandering back to the bed, slipping off the shirt you'd stolen off Eijirou the night before as you did, Eijirou rolled his eyes and undermined your words.

"So... miss this one and go to the next,"

"As I recall you said that last time and promised you wouldn't say it when it occurred again... but here we are," There was a little smirk on your face when you caught him rolling his eyes, and in response, you playfully tossed the shirt you'd had on at the redhead. Eijirou snickered and managed to catch it before it hit his face, going to crumple it into a ball and place it next to him.

"You throw like a girl,"

"And you scream like one, doofus,"

"I'm not a doofus... doofus,"

Eijirou couldn't help but smirk in amusement at you, his face lighting up all the more into a bright beam when he heard a laugh release on your part. You were just finishing buttoning up your collar shirt as Eijirou watched, arms crossing over his chest. He cocked his head back against the headrest as well as to the side in thought.

"I ever tell you that you look good in shirts like that?" The redhead stated, receiving a glare that had formed on your face.

"Don't you get any ideas,"

"Wasn't suggesting any, just stating the obvious," He raised his arms in defence as you sat down on the bed by his legs, reaching for the blazer.

"That's also something you said last time and look what happened there - wait where's my...?" You were one sleeve through your blazer when you noticed that one of your pieces of clothing was missing. The navy blue pencil skirt that matched your top half to be more specific. You looked behind and around you, and also to the closet thinking you forgot to grab it with everything else, proceeding to frown in thought.

You swore you hung it up there and -

With a heavy exhale, you felt your body twist around and turn to a particularly quiet Eijirou sitting behind you.

His expression read it all like he was trying to be both obvious and mysterious all in one go in order to get you to question him. It most definitely worked, a hand meeting your hip as you stood upright and quirked a quizzical brow.

"Eiji?"

"Hm? What is it, dearest?"

"Can I have my skirt back please?"

"What do you mean? I don't have your skirt," His growing smirk and amusement in his eyes betrayed his words, refusing to make eye contact with you in a playful manner you'd seen countless times before.

"Okay, so where is it then?"

"I don't know," He innocently shrugged. "Maybe the skirt fairy came and took it,"

"The skirt fairy," You repeated, disbelief laced in your voice.

"Yep," He said through a laugh. "I don't know what to tell you, love. There can't be any other explanation,"

"Just give me back my skirt before I get behind on time,"

"I don't have it,"

"Yes, you do,"

"No, I don't,"

"Don't make me jump you, bitch,"

"I honestly wouldn't com- oof!"

Before Eijirou could finish his sentence, he only just managed to catch you when you pounced at him without remorse. Luckily he just managed to protect himself and readjusted your intended position, victoriously smirking up at you and pointing a finger.

"Hah! Not this time!"

"I hate you sometimes,"

"No, you don't. You love me,"

"I swear to god -," You let out, arms crossing over your chest. Eijirou had sat you on top of him, legs on either side of him as he remained under the covers. "Can I please just have my skirt back?"

"You mean the one that's under the sheets by my feet?" He blankly stated, letting his hands rest themselves on your hips quite comfortably. He couldn't help but laugh at your less than amused expression.

"Why can't you just let me get ready?"

"I'm not stopping you... I'm just making it more difficult,"

"Educate me on how?"

"Well the only way to get your skirt is to get back into bed... and if you get back into bed I'm not letting you get back out,"

"You're really being this persistent, hm?"

"Maybe a little more than intended,"

You hopelessly sighed, looking at the ceiling with a mental cry of both impatience and leisure. The inner want to go to your wardrobe and pull out a fresh skirt was the easy way out, yes, but the temptation of the game Eijirou intended to play was getting to you more than expected. That and you knew he wouldn't let you simply get off him, the grip on your waist not only implying endearing affection.

Eijirou raised his voice, reeling you back to his attention. Despite your annoyance, you did make an effort to admire his features. From his loose hair to his fixed jawline where the tint of a smirk riddled with confidence rested. The pretty glow in his carmine gaze drew you in each time without a fault. He was so undeniably attractive, no doubt about it.

"You know what sounds fun?"

"What?" Partly having a sense of what was to leave his lips.

"If you...," He paused as he subtly cocked his head at you. "Stayed in bed and cuddled with me all morning," Another pause. "Because I haven't seen you in four or five days and I miss you,"

"But we watched a movie and spent some time together last night knowing I was going out today,"

"Yeah but... you're cute on a morning,"

"Opposed to other times when I'm not?" It was Eijirou's turn to send you a little glare in protest before he returned to his pleading nature.

"You're cute all the time,"

Yet another few seconds of quiet.

"Just - stay with me today? And do your meeting-thingy tomorrow?"

"You, Eijirou Kirishima, are going to be the death of me," Leaning down to rest your forehead on Eijirou's shoulder whilst releasing a long groan from the back of your throat. Maybe not so great of an idea since that allowed him to wrap you right into his grasp, you held yourself there briefly as he allowed his fingertips to mess with your hair.

"Probably," Eijirou mumbled softly, tilting his head against yours as he once again let his touch wander. The unexpected cuddle definitely didn't go unnoticed as you pondered in your position, practically ready to fall asleep when Eijirou started to rub up and down your back. Like a moth to a flame, he had you wrapped around his finger, knowing that in the end, he was always going to get his own way. Of course, in other circumstances, he'd usually let you win. But not when it came to morning cuddles.

Definitely not when it came to morning cuddles.

As if waiting for you to talk, Eijirou stared into your strands of H/C hair whilst inhaling the scent of coconut from the shampoo you used the evening prior. He expectantly caressed your hip, his final attempt to win you over confidently coming to a climax at the word that exited your mouth.

"Fine,"

You could practically feel the smirk against the back of your head as Eijirou's touch became all the more prominent and rewarding. He let one of his arms extend out to grab your phone, handing it over to you as you hesitantly sat up with a hotness to your cheeks and found the contact of your workplace.

Eijirou simply watched you the whole time, taking you all in like he was casting gaze upon you for the first time. No matter how many times that happened, he still managed to find you all the more beautiful. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and exhaled merrily as he let your voice sink into his ears, watching the smile on your face grow as you caught him looking.

"Yeah - Again, I'm really sorry I can't make it, Eijirou caught something whilst working and he's bound to the bed cause' of it," You held up crossed fingers in hopes you wouldn't sound like you were lying, glancing at your boyfriend who appeared to chuckle.

And yet again your lie went unnoticed. The call was over in seconds, tossing your phone to the empty side of the bed.

"Why'd you say I was sick?"

"Because if I said it was me they'd probably ask about the last time you forced me to stay off, and how often I'm apparently unwell,"

"Right,"

"But, it looks like you got your way," You said, going to change out the white shirt to put your pyjama shirt back on, placing the work clothes to the bottom of the bed as Eijirou waited patiently.

"Come," Was all he said once you looked back at him, opening his arms for you to sink into. Which you did, reaching that comfortable position within his grasp as though you belonged there. Except this time, Eijirou directed your face towards his, pulling your lips to his in one smooth addicting manner that you felt butterflies in your stomach for.

In the meantime your drinks were disregarded as the clock ticked on, the pair of you forgetting their presence on the bedside table. The steam soon dissipated to nothing the cooler the fluids got.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

He could sense the smile that formed on your lips.

"I love you too,"

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all? 

Read on Ao3 

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

 Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

 He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

 Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

 …and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

 Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

 “Thank you.”

 “Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

 Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

 “Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

 Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

 “I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

 “Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

 “You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

 “Because you threw it at me!”

 Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

 “Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

 “Does that mean we should call the others?”

 “If you want to.”

 Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

 “Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

 “Don’t start without me!”

 “Hey!”

 Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

 “You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

 “I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

 “You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

 “You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

 “Fuck.”

 Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

 “Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

 “It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

 “Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

 “Thanks.”

 “Remus, I swear—“

 “Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

 “Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

 Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

 “Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

 “Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

 “If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

 “Will not!”

 “You, you absolutely will.”

 “Hey!”

 The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

 It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

 Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

 Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

 “You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

 “Thanks.”

 “You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

 When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

 “Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

 Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

 Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

 Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

 “Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

 “Here, try mine.”

 “…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

 “Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

 “Let’s see if this helps.”

 Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

 “That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

 “We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

 “I will.”

 Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

 He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

 What the fuck?

 Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

 Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

 Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

 Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

 Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

 I don’t know.

 An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

 “Oh, oops.”

 He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

 “…yeah.”

 “Do I want to know what else was in that?”

 “Probably not.”

 Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

 “What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

 In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

 “Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

 Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

 “Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

 Virgil shakes his head.

 “Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

 “No.”

 Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

 “It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

 Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

 His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

 “…oh.”

 Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

 Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

 “Remus, what?”

 “You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

 Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

 “What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

 “You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

 “Okay…?”

 “That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

 Wait, what?

 He’s—

 “You mean I’m part fae now?”

 Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

 “I have magic?”

 “Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

 Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

 …pretty.

 “My own shape?”

 “Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

 “Except he’s got six arms.”

 Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

 “…what about Roman?”

 “Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

 “Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

 “He spoils you.”

 “…he tries.”

 Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

 “That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

 “Will it hurt?”

 The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

 “I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

 The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

 “I know.”

 He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

 “You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

 “I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

 “I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

 “I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

 “Oh? What did you find?”

 “Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

 Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

 “Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

 He swallows.

 “…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

 Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

 “I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

 “Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

 “There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

 “So...?”

 “So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

 “What is that?”

 Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

 He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

 “You can come closer if you like.”

 He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

 “Sorry.”

 “No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

 “What’s it called?”

 “I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

 “The what?”

 “It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

 “So he called it the Answer Box?”

 “I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

 Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

 Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

 The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

 What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

 What if they realize the—

 —the humans were right?

 A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

 “What does it say?”

 “Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

 “Magical signature?”

 “Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

 “I have a magical signature?”

 “You do.”

 He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

 Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

 “So yours is…?”

 “Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

 “Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

 “I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

 “He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

 Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

 “Maybe I will.”

 “But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

 “…which is what?”

 Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

 “Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

 “The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

 V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

 “V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

 “Virgil.”

 Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

 “My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

 “It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

 Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

 “Sorry.”

 “You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

 He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

 “Simply put? It’s a web.”

 Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

 “A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

 A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

 “So what am I going to be?”

 “I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

 “A spider?”

 “I believe so, yes.”

 “But—“

 Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

 “But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

 “…nothing.”

 He tilts his head.

 “It’s fine.”

 “You don’t have to lie to me.”

 “I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

 “You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

 “…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

 Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

 Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

 Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

 And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

 “We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

 “…really?”

 “Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

 And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

 Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

 “Please.”

 So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

 That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

 He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

 Patton, Patton I—I—

 Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

 Help me—

 “Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

 “P-Pat?”

 “Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

 Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

 “Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

 Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 “Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

 “Yeah.”

 Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

 “I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

 Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

 Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

 “The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

 “What about them?”

 Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

 “O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

 “Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

 Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

 “If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

 Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

 Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

 Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

 “Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

 “Help to make them?”

 “We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

 “You—you’d help me?”

 Something flashes behind Patton���s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

 Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

 “Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

 The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

 Then, of course, there are the new legs.

 Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

 —no.

 No, no, no, he made it out.

 He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

 He gasps.

 Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

 A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

 “Virgil? Virgil!”

 “J?”

 “Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

 “It—it hurts, I—“

 “Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

 Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

 “Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

 Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

 “They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

 Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

 “Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

 At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

 “Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

 “What’s—what’s happening?”

 “You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

 “Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

 “I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

 Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

 “I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

 “I can’t—“

 “You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

 “R-really?”

 “Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

 Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

 “I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

 “I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

 “I know, little mouse, I know.”

 “Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

 “You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

 Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

 —and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

 “Jan?”

 “You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

 Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

 “Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

 Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

 “You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

 “Can I never do that again?”

 Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

 Oh. Oh, fuck.

 Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

 “No.”

 “But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, “can you blame me?”

 “Stoppit.”

 “Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

 “Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

 “Mm.”

 Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

 “And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

 Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

 Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

 Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

 “Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

 “Mean.”

 “Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

 “How?”

 As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

 “Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

 Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

 “Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

 Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

 “What is it, darling?”

 “When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

 He swallows.

 “…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

 Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

 “You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

 Arms wrap tightly around him.

 “None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

 Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

 “Keep me?”

 “I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

 He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

 One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

 The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

 And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

 Freak.

 He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

 Freak.

 All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

 Freak.

 Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

 He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

 Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

 “Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

 Virgil nods.

 “Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

 “Sure.”

 Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

 “Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

 When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

 “…oh.”

 Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

 Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

 “Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

 Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

 “…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

 Roman’s hand stills on his back.

 “I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

 Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

 “Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

 He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

 Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

 Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

 “Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

 He hesitates.

 “…and you’re really pretty.”

 Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

 “Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

 “I mean…”

 “No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

 Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

 “You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

 “But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

 “What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

 “You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

 “Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

 Wait.

 What?

 Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

 “What?”

 Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 “You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

 Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

 “Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

 “I know.”

 “Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

 “How?”

 “Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

 He shakes his head.

 “May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

 Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

 “You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

 Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

 “Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

 It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

 And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

 “Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

 “Yes, little honeybee?”

 “Magic.”

 Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

 “Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

 He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

 “Please?”

 “You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

 Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

 “And…?”

 “And if I don’t like something.”

 “Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

 “Yes?”

 “Yes, little honeybee.”

 “…still don’t think that works anymore.”

 “Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

 Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

 “Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

 “…what?”

 Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

 “Wha—“

 Oh.

 Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

 “Hello, little spider.”

 Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

 “Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

 “R-Roman!”

 “Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

 All that comes out is a keen.

 “You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

 “The magic, not the flirting!”

 “Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

 “Mmm!”

 “Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

 “You know what I want.”

 “I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

 “…will you touch my legs, please?”

 Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

 “Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

 Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

 “Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

 The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

 “Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

 He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

 Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

 ‘Golden.’

 He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

 Virgil’s home.

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[ktheist]

in another life (i would be your man)

muses. hero!yoongi / assassin!yoongi / father!yoongi / lawyer!yoongi

word. 2.5k

genre. reincarnation au

x

time and time again, you find yourselves in the other’s absolute mercy.

mercy, which both of you know, the other will not grant.

“have you any last words, hero?” the grass shrivels up around yoongi all because hot air wilts the greenest of life.

a single bead of sweat trickles down the side of yoongi’s face as he looks at you without a shred of fear in the face of death.

“all the gold you’re hoarding... does it bring you happiness?” he says, as though already finding serendipity before you can even drive your talon into his chest.

“happiness!” you roar, mockery dripping off your word, “such humanly sentiments. you forgot who you’re speaking to, hero.”

“yoongi... yoongi’s my name” he sighs softly, eyelids fluttering shut, “say it.”

it is you who fall silent this time.

to say the name of the soul who’s bound to you not for love but for destruction... have you the right?

in your last life, a good few hundred years ago, he’s the one that drove the cross into your chest.

in the one before that, you burn him at the stakes for the wretched powers he held.

in this lifetime, even the armor made of the silver cannot withstand the weight of your paw, talon digging into his chest as he lays underneath you, ready to accept the heroic death.

“very well, if not in this lifetime, then perhaps the next...”

you live for three human lifetimes as the great dragon who brought the continent together. the humans, without their hero, are mere mortals. they learned better than to put their faith in one man.

in the next lifetime, you find yourself kneeling in front of a silver haired man - what a striking hair color for someone who’s supposed to be on the low.

“my hand’s gonna slip,” that gravelly voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“what-” you breathe out, eyebrows knitting together.

he takes his aim.

but there’s something wrong.

the angle he’s pointing at will graze your cheek and ear at most.

then he shoots.

when the bullet bounces against the cement somewhere a few inches away behind you, your body moves on its own. your leg sweep out to send him tumbling down onto the ground. your thighs pin his hips down so he can’t get up and you push the gun farther beyond his reach.

“why are you doing this?” you hiss, knife against his throat.

“don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to be happy?” yoongi says simply, too complacent for a man who’s about to lose yet another life to his enemy.

“that’s not how it works,” teeth gritted together, you press the dulled side of the knife harder against his snow-kissed flesh.

“then, how does it work?” he asks.

for a moment, you’re frozen in place. then you’re taken back to where it all begins.

you were a queen who poisoned her king before proceeding to ruin the kingdom until it remains but a memory to those who’ve lived through your tyrannical era. yoongi was the crown prince from a small country who enticed you into his chambers and kept you locked in a tower like a caged bird while he went to war with the neighboring kingdom with your kingdom’s army.

“i- i hated you for seducing me and locking me up in that tower,” you murmur, breath shaky, “a- and you hated me because i-i couldn’t be killed... because i was...”

“a blood sucker.” he finishes for you.

a flash of anger crosses your eyes and paint your vision red. you press the knife harder - no doubt there would be a bruise, “no matter how immortal i was... i died because of a broken heart. you killed me!”

“i was breaking my own heart for having to keep you locked in that tower but if i let you go...” he trails off, his hand coming to settle on yours.

it’s the first time you hear him choke up.

“so many died because of our love,” yoongi’s voice comes out barely above whisper.

“your sin is mistaking hate for love,” you flick your wrist, switching the side of the blade pressed against his neck to one that could cut through clean and swift.

but before you can seal yet another lifetime of your surviving, a sharp pain cuts into your arm, forcing you to release the blade, your free hand cupping the familiar circular wound that’s gushing with blood.

you push yourself off him, going over the ledge and jumping off to your safety. and yoongi’s left in the cold, night air, the coms in his ear buzzing back to life.

it’s six months later that he finds you, dressed in deep red, smiling seductively as you cling on a man twice your age. all of a sudden, he finds himself ignoring whatever his partner’s saying in the coms and approaching you and the man.

yoongi can barely remember what he said but he remembers the overwhelming feeling of relief when the man pushes you off and march out of the room, shouting russian vulgarities.

“planting a bullet hole in my arm isn’t enough, you just had to sabotage my mission, don’t you?” you’re on top of him once again but the ground isn’t cold and hard as he’s always remembered in the series of you pinning him down in differing lifetimes.

“have you thought about what i said?” he doesn’t look like he minds it anymore.

being pinned down by you, that is.

rather, yoongi quite likes the view of your cleavage when you lean down close enough to whisper into his hears, “i reflected on my past mistakes... and truly, i wish nothing more than to have you gone from my sight once and for all.”

then his index finger ghosts over the softest protrusion of the healed up scar on your arm. and you feel goosebumps on your skin.]

you leave in the morning, slipping out of the hotel room in that skin tight maroon dress, noticing the woman in the lobby, looking like what you would’ve looked like if you were waiting for your partner who went against orders and checked into a room in the very same hotel he was supposed to eliminate his target at.

sloppy. fucking sloppy.

yoongi never sees you after that. he got reprimanded and almost got eliminated by his own agency if it hadn’t been his father, the head of the extermination department who pulled some strings and buried the matter.

it’s a surprise he’s still alive at the age of of thirty-one, owning a lawfirm of his own and living the life he’s never thought he’d have.

a normal one.

then, he spots you, walking down the sidewalk holding a toddler’s hand and smiling down at him like he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever hold dear to.

“stop the car,” yoongi orders.

“s-sir?” the driver, surprised by the sudden request, hesitates.

“pull over!” it’s the first time the young man has ever hear his boss raise his voice.

so he does just that, but a block away from where yoongi last saw you.

he runs as fast as his legs could carry him. but the sidewalk is empty of a woman holding a child’s hand.

it takes another year of him searching records of faces and names. for you have many and unlike yoongi, he’s sure you have no one to pull the strings and make one blunder disappear.

then he finds you, under a pseudonym, of a certain kim hana whose child is named kim youngsoo.

“it’s me,” he announces, stepping into the light that pours past the window and over not even half of the room.

“mommy, can we order pizza?” youngsoo’s lively voice rings from outside of the room.

“yeah, why don’t you decide what toppings you want and i’ll be out there in a sec, sweetie,” your voice sounds heavenly - none of the guarded strain that he usually hears. but your eyes, they look like the eyes of a woman who would give everything to protect her most precious possession.

“so it was you... one year ago,” you say, ambling to the dresser where yoongi easily finds out your motive.

“the gun’s not there anymore, you really think i’d break into the house of an ex-assassin and not think to look for weapons tacked up somewhere out of sight?” he hears the frustrated sigh you make before you stand with your feet apart.

looks like you believe his words.

looks like you’ve got no problems taking him on with bare hands.

“he’s mine, isn’t he?”

a scoff.

“you’re pretty dumb if you think one night’s all it takes to get pregnant with your bastard child.”

“who’s the father, then? why isn’t he around?” he presses on.

and his questions have always been intrusive but you notice the weight of his every inquiry. as if he’d drop dead right this instant if you don’t answer them.

“he walked away, couldn’t accept that we had to always be on the move just because he had a baby with a wanted woman.”

and it’s not the police that wants you.

“his social security number?” yoongi shoots you another question.

“i don’t know. i don’t remember,” you say simply, a shrug accompanying your answer.

“number one rule of being an assassin: never forget anything,” yoongi recites easily, even after five years, he still recalls the drilling his mentor forced him through, “so that leaves us with one possibility: he doesn’t exist, this ex of yours.”

“mooooom.” youngsoo calls out, sounding too close for comfort.

“just a minute, sweetie. why don’t you take my phone out of my bag and get ready to dial up the number to the pizza place?” there’s a lightness in your tone.

envy wraps around yoongi’s heart before he even realizes it. how he wished you’d speak to him in that delicate, loving tone as well.

“look, i’m tired, i’m done playing games, i’ve been done since that night. i know i fucked up and i know some day i’ll pay for it but not tonight... tonight... at least let me have one last night with my kid.”

it’s the way the word ‘my’ and ‘kid’ fall naturally off your mouth that makes yoongi realize that he’s the one stuck in the beginning all along. that he’s the one who couldn’t move on from the past even though he sought to change the present and threw your world upside down when he decided not to take the shot.

before he can say anything, you’re already out of the door but he senses no rush in your footsteps.

“do you have the pizza place’s number down?” there it is again, the soft, tender tilt in your voice.

it’s a little faint but he hears it clearly.

and it may very well just be a trick to make him sympathize but what is he to sympathize with when he’s only here to ask for confirmation?

why do you treat him like death who’s finally come to take back your borrowed time?

well, the answer was simple.

“i paid off the bounty,” yoongi meets you at a cafe where he knows you’ll feel safer.

no assassin will make a move in broad daylight, in public, with his face out for the cameras to record.

“how much?” you sound like you just got another loan tying you down.

“enough that they can’t resist,” he states.

and before you can even say anything, he goes on, “i want to see him.”

“no.” you say curtly.

“he’s my child too.” he slides the white envelope he pulls out of his pocket to you.

it contains the dna results from the hair on the comb youngsoo complained he lost and yoongi’s own hair.

“he’s doesn’t need a father,” you don’t even give the envelope a second glance, “if that’s all-”

“that’s not for you to decide on your own,” he cuts you off.

it’s the firmness in his tone that makes your eyebrows rise. min yoongi has always been a gentle soul. even when he was driving a cross into your heart, he’d done it with the heaviest heart.

and for him to place his foot down like this - how very unlike him.

which is why, when he pulls, you pull harder.

“if you so much as appear in front of youngsoo, we will disappear and i’ll make sure you’ll never us again.”

and with that, you take out the blank check from your purse and slip it over to him. the check and the envelop laying side by side.

money isn’t the issue, you’ve managed to wire every single penny you have to different bank accounts before the agency could even freeze the one in seoul. it took several trips to japan, hong kong and china but you eventually got enough to start a new life with your new life.

and that new life of yours is being shaken by the presence of an entity of the past.

you begin noticing the men and women dressed in plain clothing standing a few feet away from where you and youngsoo go. they’re there, acting absolutely normal which makes it unnormal. always watching, always being on guard as if their lives depend on you and youngsoo’s security.

it goes on for another three months before you finally get tired of it and approach one of them, “call your boss over.”

youngsoo’s blowing bubbles at the park when a sleek black car pulls up at the curb and a familiar face steps out.

“you can see him every week on saturdays, one no-show and you’re out. also- i decide when he finds out,” you set the rules and yoongi looks like he a little kid who’s about to perform at his school’s talent show, “do we have a deal?”

“absolutely,” he nods readily.

yoongi’s hand moves on its own and he almost hooks his index finger around your pinky finger as if asking for some kind of emotional support. but he stops himself.

he walks beside you, watching as you walk out from under the shades of the tree, your expression instantaneously brightening when the sunlight hits, “youngsoo-ah,” you wave the toddler over.

his little legs comes running towards you, curious, bright eyes staring at yoongi and right through his soul. he’s never felt so bare and defenseless.

the only thing that keeps him from running away is the fondness in your voice. and the smile on your face that he’s never seen before, “youngsoo-ah, this is uncle yoongi, he’s mommy’s friend...”

yoongi musters the best smile he can - he never needed to try. it’s the people around him that force smiles to please him. never the other way around. never him having to smile so he wouldn’t scare off his son.

he crouches in front of the child that’s partially hiding behind you, “youngsoo-ah, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

[teddy06writes]

The Phantom Of The Opera AU

requested by this anon: “Okay so I know you’re a musical kid so you have probably listened to/heard of Phantom of the Opera. Picture this: Dream as the Phamtom x Fem!reader as Christine x Sapnap as Raul”

Dream x Fem!reader and Sapnap x fem!reader (with dream as the phantom and sapnap as Raul)

trigger warnings: death, dream being a low key creeper, maybe some swears, my general lack of knowledge of this musical

premise: Phantom AU, not neccicarily the full story, its mainly what I’ve seen/read/listened to that I think is important, and like eight of the songs. Ummm, I feel like the summary above is enough for you to get the general idea.

(y/l/n)- your last name

“blep” regular talking

“Belp” singing

When things are in counterpoint, regular text will be (y/n), (text in parenthesis is sapnap), and {bracketed text is Dream}

if you, like me are unfamilliar with the story, this is the summary that arrived in my inbox last night (thank you so much to the person who sent that by the way, it really helped)  

“So basically phantom of the opera is a love triangle between 3 people, the Phantom (P) x Christine (C) x Raul (R). C and R were childhood friends until R had to move away. C grew up in the Opera house with her dad (deceased) as a music writer. C grows up getting “private” singing lessons from P ( he is literally talking to her through a vent ((Among Us omg)) or something idk). Fast forward into the future to present day. C is a ballerina at the opera and one day, the phantom makes the set malfunction so that the lead female opera singer (she’s a jerk. Forgot her name) can’t preform and C has to preform as the lead instead. Coincidentally, the night Christine sings as the lead is the day R comes to see her show and R is like “ooWooga she be fine now ig”. R and C catch up after the show and R goes away for a minute and then P is like “aight C imma kidnap you for a sec with no purpose whatsoever to the plot except for a cool song” and then C returns to her normal life ig. P them sends stuff to the people in charge of the Opera saying “ayo C be pretty fine, let her be the lead again” the people in charge of the opera were like “nah fam, let’s have the person who was supposed to be the lead be the lead”. Upset by this, during the show, P broke the chandelier and it fell into the audience. C is like “I love you uwu” R is like”let’s get engaged” C is like “let’s keep it a secret so the crazy P guy doesn’t find out” and little did they know during that conversation P was hiding and overheard everything and is now sad boi hours. A masquerade happens and P shows up like “ayo I heard you trynna steal my boo” and R is like “nah she my boo” and they duel or whatever. Idk how it transitions to this but the Opera runs another show and they make C the lead to not upset P. However, during a love song (Past the point of no return, it literally slaps), C realizes that the person singing isn’t the original actor, it is P! And then P straight up kidnaps C after the song, takes her to his lair and is like “boo you gotta marry me or I destroy the opera house with everyone inside it” C is like “fine ig” P takes off his mask and reveals he is hiding burn marks and he kisses C and C kisses back. P is like” my mom never even kissed me” and P let’s C go, telling her to go marry R... or you can just watch this video lmao https://youtu.be/4a5nahw3zi8″

On that note, here we go:

{that only goes for the final scene where its all three, it varies otherwise}

{Things I have learned while preparing this story, 1. the actual phantoms name is Erik, like what a nerd, 2. he’s also not actually a ghost??? He’s literally just some creeper who lives in an opera house screwing with people; also yes Eret is the strict lady who yells at everyone and talks to the phantom, deal with it}

{pls send me more musical au asks I really liked doing this, even if it took me a while}

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

The ravenous applause of the audience seemed to echo in your ears, even after you had left the stage. 

You’re debut as the female lead in Hannibal had been a smashing success, and as the rest of the chorus girls backstage were saying, it was all thanks to the Phantom scaring Hannah off.  

Niki practically ran up to you from the rehearsal room, “(y/n) that was incredible!” 

You grinned, “Oh I feel like I’m floating Niki! Thank you for volunteering me for the role.” 

“Don’t thank me, Thank whoever's giving you those lessons,” She bumped her hip against yours, grinning cheekily, “And if what the girls are saying is true you’ll have to thank him for getting Hannah out of here.” 

You chuckled, but before you could say anything else Madame Eret was approaching, knocking the end of their cane of the ground, “Miss Nihachu, you are a dancer are you not?” 

Niki nodded. 

“Then get back to rehearsal,” he waited until Niki hurried off to turn to you, “He is most pleased with your performance, here.”

You took the note from him, reading over it quietly, “Red scarf..... the attic.... little lotte?” 

She simply shrugged, leaving you to turn and head up your dressing room. 

As you changed out of your costume from the show you couldn’t help but hum the song that had earned the most applause, “Think of me, think of me of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye.” 

Reaching around you found your dressing gown, pulling it on and tying up the front, “Remember me, once and a while. Please, promise you’ll try...” 

Your words faded off as your sat down at your vanity, beginning to brush out your hair. 

“Where is your red scarf Miss (y/l/n)? I hope you haven’t lost it. Not after all the trouble I went through to retrieve it for you.” 

You turned to see a tall dark hair man standing in the doorway, a grin spreading across your face as he continued, “I was only 14 and soaked to the bone...” 

“Because you ran into the sea to fetch my red scarf!” You exclaimed, jumping up and flinging your arms around him excietedly, “Sapnap! How I’ve missed you!” 

He chuckled, pulling away, and offering you a single red rose, “(y/n)... Little Lotte let her mind wander...” 

“You remember that too?” You asked with a giggle. 

Sapnap smiled and kept singing, “Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls,” 

“Or of goblins or shoes?” You joined in, “Or of riddles of frocks, or chocolates.” 

“Those picnics n the attic...” He reminisced. 

You closed your eyes, remembering those long ago days, “Father playing the violin.” 

“As we read each other those dark stories of the north.” 

“No what I like best, little Lotte said, is when I’m asleep in my bed,” You sang, “And the angel of music sings songs in my head!” 

“The angel of music sings songs in my head.” He repeated softly. 

You smiled at him, an excited fond feeling forming in your stomach as you sank back into your chair,  “Father said, when I am in heaven child I will send the angel of music to you. Well now father is dead, Sapnap. And I have been visited by the angel of music.” 

“Well that is very evident,” He chuckled, taking your hands, “Your performance was wonderful. And now, we shall go to supper.” 

“Oh- sapnap I can’t, the angle of music is very strict.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the urgency in your voice as he laughed again, “Well I shant keep you up late.”

“No- Sapnap, things have changed-”

“You have to change,” He interrupted, “And I have to grab my hat. Two minutes little lotte.” 

As he went out the door you cried after him, “Sapnap! Thing have changed Sapnap!”

But he was out of earshot, and the voice that had become so familiar to you was booming, “Insolate boy! This Slave of fashion basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing my triumph!”

“Angel I hear you! Speak, I listen! Stay by my side and gude me!” You begged up to the ceiling, “Angel my soul was weak! Forgive me! Enter at last master!”

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in the shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am their inside!” 

The voice sounded closer now, and you couldn’t help but look around, “Angel of music! Hide no longer!” 

You turned again, finding yourself face to face with what seemed like a mask, floating in your mirror, “Come to me, strange angel!”

“I am your angel! Come to me angel of music!” 

A shadowy figure seemed to appear behind the smiling mask, a hand outstretched to you. In a daze you stood, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you away down a dark pathway.

“Who’s voice is that?” Sapnap asked, knocking on the now closed door, “(y/n) who’s in there?” 

“Come with me angel of music!” Dream, the Phantoms voice echoed again. 

“(y/n)!” 

~~

“In sleep he came to me, the voice which calls to me and speaks my name!” You moved quietly through the passages, following Dream, “And Do I dream again? for now I find, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!” 

“Sing once again with me our strange duet! My power over you grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to look behind, the phantom of the opera is there! Inside your mind!” He sang, turning back to make sure you were following once more.

The walls of the tunnel seemed to widen, and you could almost make out an empty candle lit space. 

You reached out, fingers almost brushing the edge of his cloak, “Those who have seen your face draw back in fear! I am the mask you wear..”

“It’s me they hear...” 

As you emerged into a cross roads of the tunnels, you sang in tandem, “Your (my) spirit and your (my) voice in one combined, the phantom of the opera is there, inside your (my) mind!” 

He helped you into the boat that waited in one tunnel, before casting off, propelling the boat down the slow moving current, “In all your fantasies, you always knew the man and mystery...” 

“Were both in you....” You sang softly as the boat came to dock in a wide chamber.

Slowly you climbed out of the boat after him, looking around the dank space, and at the organ in the corner. 

Dream pulled off his cloak, “And in this labyrinth where the night is blind..”

“The Phantom of the opera is there! Inside my mind......” 

~~

As the people downstairs argued, you tried to think over what had happened. Was it a dream? It didn’t seem like it, but still, a man appearing in her looking glass? Taking her away and singing words of praise, words of love, words that made nearly no sense now that it was day, and a haze covered your memory. 

The one thing that remained clear was the monster she had found beyond the mask.

All too soon it seemed you were being rushed into rehearsals, being told you no longer had a speaking role, as Hannah had returned, and was back to her diva ways. 

Rehearsals that would normally drag on seemed to go quicker now, and soon you and the rest of the girls were getting ready for the performance. 

“This is ridiculous,” Niki muttered as she adjusted her costume, “You should be playing the duchess, not Hannab.” 

“Hannah is the featured soprano. She’s always the lead.” You retorted. 

“But how will Sapnap know to look for you in the chorus?” Niki teased.

You elbowed her, laughing lightly, “Shut up. Besides I doubt the phantom would let him see me again.”

The show had gone well, at least until the fifth scene. 

All the music stopped abruptly as a voice boomed, “Did I not instruct that box five was to be left empty?”

“He’s here: The Phantom Of The Opera!” Niki cried from offstage. 

Your head jerked up to turn and look at the audience, “It’s Dream!” 

“Your part is silent, you toad!” Hannah snapped. 

From somewhere up in the audience Dream frowned, “A toad Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad...” 

Hanna opened her mouth to continue on her script, but no sound seemed to come out, save for what was close the a croak. 

The men who had bought the opera house, Wilbur and Tommy were coming rushing down from their box, “Ladies and gentlemen we apologize! The performance will continue in ten minutes time, with Miss (y/l/n) as the duchess!”

Tommy nodded as Wilbur finished, “And for now, we will give you the ballet, from act three of tonight's show!” 

The ballet didn’t last long, as when you returned to the wings dressed for the new role you had been given, someone let out a horrified scream.

“What the-” 

You were cut off as you looked up to see Shlatt, the stagehand in charged of the curtains, hanging from the rigging, a noose fully tightened around his neck. 

“Ladies and gentlemen remain calm! It was just an accident- remain calm!” Someone shouted. 

Through the darkness you could make out Dream’s menacing figure, the smiling mask watching you threateningly as you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the scream that had ripped at your throat. 

“(y/n)? (y/n) are you alright?” Sapnap had run down onto the stage in all the chaos. 

“We- we have to get out of here,” You choked, grabbing his hand, “We aren’t safe here.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the reason behind your panic, but even so he offer you his arm, “Lets leave then.” 

~~

Twenty minutes later you ended up in an empty park, the panic that filled your chest not yet fading as Sapnap asked, “Why have you brought me here?”

“We can’t go back there!” You exclaimed. 

“But we must return.” He gripped your hands, “Darling their bound to be missing you.” 

You shook your head, “Sapnap- He’ll kill you! His eyes will find us there!” 

“(y/n), don’t say that! It’s okay (y/n), it’s okay!” 

You looked up into the darkened sky, “No it’s not- no it’s not- Those eyes that burn!” 

“Don’t even think it!” He cried desperately. 

You couldn’t tell whether you were trembling from fear, or from the cold, as you sang, “And if he has to kill a thousand men....” 

“Forget this waking nightmare!” Sapnap insisted. 

“....The phantom of the opera will kill.” You sang distractedly. 

He gripped your shoulders, “This phantom is a fable, (y/n), believe me!” 

“And kill again....” You shuddered at the idea of Dream doing anything to Sapnap. 

Both of you sang, “God who is this man, who hunts to kill? (this mask of death?)

“I can’t escape him!” You cried. 

He shook his head, “Whose voice is it you hear...”

“...I never will!” 

“With every breath?” 

His grip on your shoulders tightened, pulling you closer to him as you both sang, “And in this labyrinth where light is blind, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my (your) mind!”

“There is no Phantom of the Opera!” 

“Sapnap- I’ve been there, inside his world of never ending light! To a world where daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness! Sapnap I’ve seen him!” You cried. “Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape that face? So distorted, disformed it was hardly a face!  in the darkness, darkness. But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound in that night there was music in my mind And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before!” 

“What you had was a dream and nothing more!” 

You could hardly look up at him, “yet in his eyes was all the sadness in the world! Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore!” 

“(y/n), (y/n)!”  Sapnap exclaimed. 

“.....(y/n)......” A different voice seemed to cry into the night. 

You gasped, pressing yourself against Sapnap, “What was that?” 

He hugged you tightly, before pulling back and singing gently, “No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I’m here, and nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.” 

You relaxed into his grip, listening to his quiet voice, “Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears, I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.” 

“Say you love me, every waking moment. Turn my head and talk of summer time,” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “Say you need me now and always, promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you.” 

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you are safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you.” He assured you, smiling softly. 

 “All I want is freedom, a world with no more night. And you to always be beside me, to hold me and to hide me.” You admitted. 

Sapnap’s smile grew wider, “Then say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n), that's all I ask of you.” 

“Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time,” You repeated, “Say the word, and I’ll follow you.” 

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” You sang together as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Say you love me?” 

He smiled, whispering, “You know I do.” 

“Love me- that's all I ask of you.” You both sang, before he leaned in to gently press a kiss to your lips, “Any where you go, let me go too. Love me- thats all I ask of you.” 

Sapnap kissed you again, before pulling away, “We could go anywhere- we could be married! You would marry me, yes?” 

“Oh, yes, Sapnap, yes I would. If you’d have me.” You nodded, eagerly. 

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You couldn’t help but giggle, before turning back toward the direction of the opera house, “I must go back, they’ll wonder where I am. Wait for me Sapnap!” 

“(y/n), I love you!” He exclaimed. 

“Wait for me, Sapnap. Order your finest horses and being waiting by the door.” You could go back, and continue working at the opera house, there was nothing left for you to fear while Sapnap was there.

“And soon you’ll be beside me!” He chuckled.

You grinned, “To guard me and too guide me!” 

Sapnap offered you his arm again, and you headed off out of the park, toward the opera house. 

Slowly, Dream slinked from the shadows where he had watched the proposal, “I gave you my music, made your song take wing. And now your repaid me, denied and betrayed me.” 

He groaned running a hand through his hair, “He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. (y/n)- oh (y/n)-”

He was cut off by the sounds of your voices drifting down the street, Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time, Say the word, and I’ll follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning.”

Dream’s hands flew to his ears, desperate to block out the sounds- he had been so sure that you could’ve loved him, but now Sapnap was stealing you away. 

“You will curse the day you did not do, all that the phantom asked of you!” He bellowed. 

~~

The following weeks at the opera house were a blur of panic masked by busyness, Wilbur and Tommy refusing to let the disaster of the chandelier falling from keeping the company from working on their next performance. 

You kept on working, the ring on the chain Sapnap had given you around your neck helping you to feel safe, even as the chorus girls cited the Phantom for the cause of all the distress. 

Now you were back in your dressing room, getting ready for dinner with Sapnap.

“Wander child, so lost, so helpless,” A soft voice seemed to drift down from no where, “Yearning for my guidance.” 

You looked up at the ceiling, “angel or father? Friend or phantom? Who is it their staring?” 

“Have you forgotten your angel?” The voice murmured, Dream appearing once again in your mirror. 

You turned to him, almost in a trance, “angel, oh, speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper.” 

Sapnap, having arrived to the opera house appeared in the door, watched as you moved toward the phantom. 

“Too long you’ve wandered the winter...” Dream continued to sing, hand outstretched to you. 

“Once again she is his.” Sapnap sang, as you started to cross the room toward the mirror where the phantom stood. 

“...far from my far reaching eyes.” 

“Wildly my mind beats against you....” You sang, transfixed. 

Behind the mask Dream grinned, “You resist. Yet your soul obeys.” 

“Once again she returns, to the arms of her angel. Angel or demon? Still he calls her, luring her back from the grave. Angel or dark seducer? Who are you strange angel?” Sapnap sang, again, more to himself than you or Dream. 

Dream beckoned you forward again,  “I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music!”

“Angel of darkness, cease this torment!” Sapnap exclaimed, moving into the room properly and drawing attention to himself. 

Dream unbothered, continued to sing, “I am your angle of music! Come to me angel of music!” 

“(y/n), (y/n) listen to me! Whatever you may believe- this thing, this man is not your father!”  Sapnap yelled, “(y/n)! Let her go! For gods sake let her go!” 

Jarred by his sudden yell, you turned, the trance broken, “Sapnap...” 

Dream, unimpressed, began to clap, deadpanning, “Bravo monsieur. Such spirited words.” 

“No more tricks monsieur!” Sapnap yelled, stepping forward to put himself between you and Dream. 

“Oh, but that's not any fun. Why don’t you come closer, sir? Keep coming this way.” 

Sapnap, not liking to be challenged, stepped forward, “You cannot win her love by holding her prisoner!” 

“No- Sapnap don’t!” You grabbed his hand, pulling him back. 

He nodded resolutely, gripping your hand as you both moved toward the door, “Lets go then, no more time will be spent with this monster.” 

“Don’t go!” Dream wailed as you hurried away down the hall, “Now let it be war upon you both!” 

~~

Something was going wrong, of course it was, because when was it not?

Your entrance in Don Juan Triumphant had gone according to plan, but the man who had stepped out as Don Juan was not George, as it should have been.

You steeled yourself, trying to come up with a logical reason.

George must have gotten sick, and a stand in had taken his place, yes that must be it.

“Past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we played till now, are at an end.” The man sang, “Past all thought of ‘if’ or ‘when’, no use resisting, abandon that thought and let the dream descend.”

Your panic seemed to rise, the double meaning in his words filling you with dread.

“What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire locks the door? What sweet seduction lies before is? Past the point of no return, the final thread hold. What unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return.”

You moved carefully to your next mark, trying to work out who it was in George’s place, “You have brought me, to the moment when words run dry, to the moment when speech disappears into silence, silence.

I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I already imagined, our bodies entwined. Defenseless and silent, now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I’ve decided, decided.”

You just barley stopped from trembling as you realized, it was Dream, “Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right and wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait, before we’re one?”

“When will the blood being to race? When will the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?” You finished, taking an only slightly shaky breath.

The phantom grabbed your hand as you both sang, “Past the point of no return, the final threshold. The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn, we’ve past the point of no return!”

Everyone in the audience seemed to hold their breath, they too knew that this was not George. The cloak that had hidden Dreams mask fell, and they gasped upon seeing the plaster smiling face.

He grinned behind the mask, and punctuated, “Say you’ll share with me, one love, one lifetimes lead me, save me from my solitude.”

The words stung even before he pulled out a ring, holding it out to you, “come with me, or this whole place will come down upon us.”

Slowly you looked to the audience, Sapnap was standing in the isle, looking worried.

You couldn’t let him get hurt.

You nodded reluctantly, as he continued, “say you want me by your side anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n) that’s all I ask of-“

Slowly, you reached up, pulling the mask off his face, revealing the terribly scared face to the world.

The gasps turned into horrible screams as a curtain was raised, and Georges body tumbled onto the stage.

Almost immediately Dream flung his cloak around you, disappearing.

Sapnap ran up onto the stage, along with the crew, police officers and other patrons.

“Sapnap! Sapnap you’ve got to come with me!” Eret cried, rushing out onto the stage.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sapnap!” They yelled again, “I know where they are!”

“But can I trust you?” He demanded.

She nodded, “yes, and remember, keep your hand up at eye level.”

“Why?”

“Punjab lasso.” Was all he offered in explication as he led Sapnap away.

~~

Soon enough Sapnap was creeping through the shadows of the phantoms layer, watching as he tried to place a wedding veil on your head, “Too bad pity comes to late, turn around and face your fate, an entirety of this before your eyes!”

You turn to face him, looking up at the mess of scares that cover his face, “this haunted face holds no horror for me now, it is in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

The phantom turned suddenly, to Sapnaps hiding place, “Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest! Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come And now my wish comes true— you have truly made my night!”

“Free her!” Sapnap yelled, stepping into the light, “do what you want to me but let her go!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.” Dream laughed at you.

“Sapnap it’s useless!” You cried.

Sapnap shook his head, “I love her! Does that mean anything To you? I love her! Show some compassion!”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” Dream retorted.

He reached out toward you, “(y/n), (y/n), please let me see her!”

Dream grinned maliciously, “be my guest.”

Sapnap rushed forwards, as Dream contiued to taunt, “Monsuier, i bid you welcome, did you think that I would hurt her? Why should I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?” 

As he finished the last words the Punjab lasso came sailing out, and Sapnap barley had time to fling his arm back up as he was dragged back, the only thing keeping him from hanging being the fingers he’d wrangled between the rope and his neck. 

“No!” You cried, struggling to your feet. 

“Order your fine horses now!” Dream yelled, “Nothing now can save you, except maybe... (y/n).” 

You stood, shaking as he turned to you, “Start a new life with me- buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me now and send your lover to his death! This is the choice, this is the point of no return!” 

“(y/n), forgive me, please forgive me, I did it all for you, and all for nothing.” Sapnap sang, looking at you desperately.  

At the same time you turned toward Dream, “Farewell my fallen idol, and my false friend, one by one my delusions shattered.” 

“Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!” Dream sang.

“{all hope of cries for help, no point in fighting!} (say you love and my life is over, either way you choose, he has to win!) {for ether way you choose, you cannot win! So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?}”

“Why make her lie to you, to save me?” Sapnap yelled. 

You looked between them desperately, “Angel of music..... {past the point of no return!} (For pity’s sake (y/n) say no! Don’t throw your life away for my sake!) Who deserves this? When will you see reason? {The Final threshold! His life is now the prize you must earn! You’ve passed the point of no return....}”

You looked at Dream, no longer trying to hide the fear that coursed through your veins, “Angel of music, you have deceived me, I gave myself blindly to you.” 

“You try my patience! Make your choice!” Dream yelled. 

Looking back at sapnap for a moment you stepped forward, whatever it would take, you would keep him safe, “Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone.” 

Reaching out, you took the mask from his hand, tossing it to the side as he moved closer to you as well. 

Before you could hardly blink he was kissing you, and with little more than a second thought you kissed back. 

Sapnap watched, in partials horror, until the phantom drew back, shaking as he whispered, “No one has ever kissed me- not even my own mother.” 

You nodded, and then suddenly Dream began to move across the room, grabbing a knife from somewhere as he stalked up to Sapnap.

He paused for a beat, and you could feel the terror in the room- until he slashed at the rope, and Sapnap fell the ground. 

You rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, “Sapnap! oh Sapnap!” 

“Take her,” dream wailed, “Take her and forget me, forget all of this! Leave me alone- forget all you’ve seen....”

Sapnap struggled to his feet, holding you close to him as he backed towards the channel. 

“Take the boat, leave me here, go now, please!” 

The sounds of the mob looking for Georges murderer seemed to grow louder as they grew closer.

“Hurry! Now before its too late!” Dream yelled. 

Sapnap hurriedly started to help you into the boat, but you pulled away, moving back to the Phantom, long enough to hand him the ring. 

Then you were off, turning to Sapnap as the current carried the boat away, “I’m sorry Sapnap- I couldn’t let him hurt you- I couldn’t!” 

“Shhh. It’s alright (y/n), it’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He murmured, pulling you into his arms.

“Say you’ll share with me, one love one lifetime.” You sang shakily.

Sapnap nodded, “Say the word and I’ll follow you.”

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning...” The sounds of your voices traveled back up the tunnel for Dream to hear. 

He sighed, looking resolutly into the distance, “You alone can make my song take flight- It’s over now, the music of the night!”

[dirtyoatmeall]

Bokuto’s Cool Sister (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

A/N: Here is an actual fic! I have a list of shit to write I’m slowly working through, next will either be more head canons or a one shot. I’m re-watching AOT rn to get caught up with the new season so sorry about being absent! Luv u guys a lot

Pairing: Tsukishima x Bokuto sibling reader (No pronouns or gendered language used toward reader, not referred to as sister just used for title purposes), Bokuto x Akaashi, Kenma x Kuroo

Word Count: 2k! (longest ever!)

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking (everyone at least 20), mentions of secs

~~~

You groaned as you neared the door to your apartment, seeing that the door was not cracked open a little for you to nudge open like you had asked your brother to do as you pulled into the complex. You remember him vaguely mentioning friends coming over, and you can hear music faintly coming from the apartment, but he always checks his phone, especially when you're coming from the store. 

You try to balance the milk on your knee to open the door, and just as you think you have it, the door doesn’t budge. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your brother never locks the doors, why would he now? His car is in the parking lot and you can hear noise inside, so he’s home. Instead of putting groceries on the ground and fishing your keys out of your purse like a normal person, you make the decision to kick the door, not very hard, but hard enough to be heard in the apartment. 

“Kou! Why is the door locked? Will you come open it for me, I have groceries!” You can hear your brother tumbling towards the door, apologies flying out of his mouth a mile a minute. The door swings open, revealing your brother, grimace on his face. “Sorry! I totally forgot you were at the store, I think ‘Kaashi might’ve locked it.” You sighed, not being able to stay mad at your brother’s friend. 

You walk in, jerking your head in the general direction of the parking lot, “I have some more in my car, can you go grab it?” He nods, grabbing his key ring and jogging out. Both of you had the spare key to each other’s cars, which turned out to be more convenient then you originally thought. 

You move toward the kitchen, yelling out a greeting to your brother’s boyfriend. “Akaashi! Next time you come over to fuck my brother let me know before so I can have my keys out, or just leave the door unlocked and go in his room!” You had a joking, yet scolding tone of voice, imagining his flustered state at your words. What you did not expect, was a hyena-like laugh to come from the direction of the living room. You were almost positive your brother said Akaashi was here. 

You place the groceries on the counter and make your way to the living room, freezing in the doorway. Akaashi was there, but so were 3 other people. Akaashi was red, shaking his head that was resting in his palms. There was someone playing on a gaming console on the couch who had their legs thrown over the lap of the laughing one, and one on the other couch, tall and blonde, who looked weirdly familiar, who had a faint smirk on their face. You grimace, you didn’t realize your brother had actual friends over, he usually just meant Akaashi or the occasionally Hinata. “Oops sorry ‘Kaashi, didn't know Kou was having other people over.”

He lifted his head, face still slightly flushed and smiled. “It’s fine (Y/N)-san, do you need help with the groceries?” You shook your head, pointing behind you in the direction of the kitchen, where you could hear your brother rummaging around. “Nah, I made Koutaro get the rest. If you guys are staying for dinner let me know and I’ll make something instead of making him go to the food truck for me. By the way, who are the rest of you? I literally thought Kou was lying about having friends.” 

The blonde one snorted, you narrowed your eyes slightly, he looked so familiar, you just couldn’t quite place it. The one playing the console seemed familiar too, you think you might’ve seen him on Twitter. The only one you didn’t recognize was the first to speak. “I’m Kuroo Tetsuro, we all played volleyball together in high school, I’m surprised he hasn’t talked about us before.” 

You nod in understanding, “Oh so that’s where. I’m sure he has, I just probably wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. I mean you guys seem kinda familiar, more the other two than you, were you like benched a lot?” The quiet one next to him looks up to see his reaction and snorts at the disbelief on Kuroo’s face. “Yeah, Kuro wasn’t very good.” The half blonde says, giggling softly as Kuroo gasps and yells at him. “Kenma!” He turns to you, “I was the captain and a very good player actually.” You laugh as Kenma behind him makes a face that says ‘That’s what you think.’ Before Kuroo could whine some more, Akaashi speaks.

“Kenma-san is a YouTuber, which is probably where you’ve seen him. He and Kuroo-san played for Nekoma, I’m surprised you didn’t remember them from that, you remembered Lev-san.” Kenma actually laughs at that, and Kuroo is pouting as Akaashi continues, a cheeky smile on his face that told you he purposefully sprinkled that last little tidbit in. 

“Tsukishima-san, aren’t you a museum-studies major?” The blonde on the loveseat across from the other three nods, and you snap your fingers, finally realizing where you know him from. “Oh, that makes sense! I think we’ve had a class or two together. I’m an archaeology major.” Tsukishima’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but before he could speak, your brother finally comes in from the kitchen.

“(Y/NNNNN), I put everything away, we were going to go to Onigiri Miya tonight, wanna come?” You nod and swat at his had when he ruffles your hair before plopping down to his boyfriend. You go to leave your brother and his friends, taking one last glance at Tsukishima, who seemed to have the same idea, he averted his eyes the moment yours met, and you smirked to yourself on the way to the kitchen to re-put away the groceries. You loved your brother, but he definitely did not know where to put things, your thought validified as you pull the eggs from the pantry, switching it with the instant ramen packets in the fridge. Good thing he was a great volleyball player. ` Later that night, you join the boys for dinner at Onigiri Miya. You take two separate cars, you driving your brother and Akaashi and Kuroo driving Kenma and Tsukishima. Kuroo made a joke about racing there, which you took as a personal challenge, much to the dismay of Akaashi. You would’ve won too, but you had to pull over to kick Koutaro in the backseat for playing Nickelback. He buys your food as an apology, and Kuroo’s food because he won (you venomed him later for your share of food, which he promptly venomed back to you with angry faces in the description.). The 6 of you sat in a corner booth, you were sandwiched between Akaashi and Tsukkishima with Kuroo between your brother and Kenma on the other side.

The table was loud with jokes, laughing, and yelling as everyone ate their meals. You snuck drinks of ‘Akaashi’s’ margarita when the waitress wasn’t looking (You were 20 and Akaashi submits to peer pressure from you easily). “(Y/N), are you not 21 yet?” Kuroo asked as he watched you nudge the drink toward Akaashi as the waitress talked to the other table. You turned to Kuroo, cheeks just barely flushed. “Hm? Oh no I’m not, I’m two years younger than you guys, I turn 21 in a few months.” 

Kuroo hummed in understanding and got a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Oh, you’re the same age as Tsukkishima, and you guys have similar majors, how interesting” Your eyebrows furrow and you snort. “So do over a thousand other people Kuroo, its not a super niche subject.” You turn to Tsukkishima and continue, “Hm I didn’t realize we were in the same year, I thought you were older, must be your grumpy grandpa like disposition.” Akaashi explained what disposition meant to your brother and Kuroo snickered before he was shut down by Kenma, who has been doing an excellent job of roasting Kuroo at every chance he gets. “You laugh like everyone doesn’t call you old man behind your back.” 

You laughed for the umpth time that night, Tsukishima watching you, he could really see the sibling resemblance when you laughed. You throw your head back and laugh loudly, from your gut much like your brother. Tsukishima looks away from you, catching Kuroos eye in the process, the blonde rolls his eyes at the smirk on Kuroos face. Out of the 5 of them, he was the only one not in a relationship and Kuroo has been trying to set him up since Bokuto and Akaashi finally got together at Akaashi’s graduation. 

Tsukishima looks at you again, watching you take a sip of the margarita, and subsequently watches it almost come out of your nose as you laugh at something Akaashi said to Bokuto, clutching the former's shoulder, hand over your nose. There was no doubt that you were pretty, and you did have similar interests. His thoughts were interrupted by you turning to him, knee-knocking against his thigh. “Have you taken Anth 267?” He nods “I took it last quarter.” He replies and watches you sigh in relief. “Oh thank god, I’m having trouble meeting her insane essay expectations. I usually have ‘Kaashi read through mine but would it be ok if I sent them to you? Or at least bounced topics off you?” When he agrees you smile, unlocking your phone and sliding it towards him, a new contact open. “Oh great, here, why don’t you put your number in?” As he fills it out, his eyes involuntarily flit to the text message appearing at the top of your screen. From: That Sunny Bitch

Ew you think Tsukki’s hot? He’s a good volleyball player but he was a meanie in high school 😝

He held back the urge to smirk. That must be Hinata based on the name. He quickly finished the contact and gave your phone back before giving his to you, and you quickly typed in your contact info, as well as snapping a quick contact photo. It was super close to your face with your tongue out, a good tell of your personality. You give his phone back and the two of you talk more about school and classes before everyone gets ready to leave. 

Your brother stands up first, and you take advantage of his large frame and chug the rest of the margarita down, smiling big at Akaashi who chastises you about drinking it so fast. You all wave to Osamu as you leave, and before Tsukishima can get to Kuroo’s car, he turns to the group, smirking. “I've got to run Kenma by our apartment to grab his charger, we’ll meet you guys.” You nod, handing your keys to Akaashi and turn to Tsukishima. “You can sit in the back with me Tsukishima!” Though you might be promoted to passenger if Bokuto makes bad music choices again.” You glare at your brother as you finish the sentence, and he whines about how his taste ‘isn’t that bad!’ 

The car ride back to your apartment is short, and you spend it chatting with Tsukki, as you’re now allowed to call him, and you spend the rest of the night with the boys, playing games and watching movies until early morning. Kuroo and Kenma leave first, and Kenma made your night when he looked you in the eye and said goodbye. Tsukki left about an hour later, his roommate picked him up. Akaashi ended up staying over, and you were glad your bedroom was on the other side of the apartment from your brother’s. You fell into bed content with the day, happy you were able to meet your brother’s friends.

You awoke mid-day, and you browsed your notifications before dropping your phone on your bed when you read one text message, heat spreading over your cheeks. You definitely do not remember changing his contact name.

From: Hot classmate Tsukki

Hey, how about we go over your essay over some coffee tonight?

[ohhmyheart5678]

When in the streets of seoul (5)

*warning* this mentions death, murder, suicide, guns, and other gruesome and dark content if you are sensitive to these kinds of things do not read it

Pairing: Chan x female reader

Word count 2.1k

Previous/ next

*****

It's been six days, six day fucking days since I've been trapped here. I absolutely hate it. I spent the first three days not speaking to anyone and the other three finally excepting the fact that this is going to be my life now.

It's such a nice place. I get fed the best foods, I sleep in the most comfortable king sized bed with silk sheets, I have the best clothes, and I'm still miserable.

I went to the speaker and pressed 1. "Kinely ! You need something?" Chan sounded quite concerned. He believed that I had everything I needed but he forgot one thing. "I need to go to the store" I say sharply. Even though the deal was  that I wasn’t able to go in public he haven't let me out of this room yet.

He says I'm not cooperating and so I have to wait. "What do you need from the store that I can't get for you?" I could hear the slight annoyance in his voice but he could never be as annoyed as I am right now. I mean he is keeping me hostage for Christ sake. "Just take me to the store you dickhead" I was honestly so done with him.

I needed to get out this room and I needed to go to the store ASAP. "I'm not going to the store because you won't tell me what it is" Chris was trying to put his foot down but little did he know I was far better at this game than he was. "Look I need pads either you take me to get them, or you can suffer the consequences of trying to find the perfect pads for me which I guarantee that you won't and then you'll have to take me to pick them out anyways, or we can always go with the option of me bleeding everywhere" there was a long pause before he finally responded.

"Fine I'll take you to the store" was all he said before it went completely silent. I waited patiently by the door until a boy comes in. "Hey seugmin did Chris send you for me" he just gives a simple nod. "Felix and I" he simply says while fully opening the door that he was standing in just enough to show his body. Once he swung open the door it revealed Felix. The orange haired boy waved at me.

Since staying here Chris has sent the boys at least once so that they could introduce themselves since I'm gonna be seeing a lot more of them. I've learned about what these boys do. Since I had nothing better to do the least I could do was steal information on the guys I'm going to be living with from now on.

For instance Chris is the oldest and the leader. He calls the shots, he looks over the plans, and makes sure everything runs smoothly he does need to do much work but Felix says Chris is the last resort and that he’s feel bad for anyone if Chris was called in. Then there's Minho. He is one of the main men on the field he's the look out and distraction, and supposedly from what I heard he does a damn good job at it. Plus Minho has a medical background so if anyone gets hurt he’s the man everyone goes to.

There's also changbin he's got quite the temper so they use him when there's need for extreme measures you know if they need .. a mess. I heard he can get pretty creative with that stuff.

Hyunjin, who often checks on me throughout the day is the sniper. He knows weapons like the back of his hands and could handle them blindfolded. Then it's Jisung, they call him Han. He is the best fighter in the house. You can have a gun in the fight and he could still win.

Felix known as the second Aussie of the house does the interrogations. He can get anyone to talk, his deep voice scares mostly anyone , but for the ones that are harder to get through. Let's just say they can either come out alive while missing some part of their body. Or they can come out in a body bag.

Seugmin is the hacker, he can hack into litterally anything. You name it, he can hack it. He's the one who got the information on my dad.

Last but definitely not least there's jeongin they all him I.N . He is silent but deadly. The red hair boy is like a ninja. They use him when they want to get the job done quickly but quietly.

We arrived downstairs where Chris was waiting for us at the door. I figured he was already handling business downstairs so he fetched the two boys to get me. "Thanks gentleman I got it from here" it was his nice easy of telling them to go away.

We got into his car and he drives us to a nearby store. I looks around searching for the right ones as he stands behind me trying to figure how the whole process works. I saw the pack I wanted and grabbed two of them. "Ahh now I know for next time" he says as if he has just been enlightened. "Next time?" I wanted to know what he meant by next time.

"Next time its you know... that time, I'll be able to pick out the right ones for you" that’s so aggravating! My only reason to get out the house was once again taken from me. Chan probably could tell that I was slightly disappointed by his statement so he changed it a little , I mean seeing that he’s talking to a hormonal women who’s not necessarily in the best mood at the moment. "I mean unless you'd like to do it for yourself" A small smile slightly appeared on my face as I handed the cashier the goods to ring up. "Is there anything else you want or need from here before we leave" Chris wanted to hurry out of here because this was time he could be spending working at home. "Nope" I was completely content with having what I needed so far.

Once we arrived back home I was instantly sent back to my room. Sitting there in boredom I looked around for some form of entertainment. There was absolutely nothing to do in this room and I was just now realizing it. For the past few days all I've been doing was sleeping and eating , so I didn't stop to think about it . I was too busy being sad about being locked up in a room by a bunch of psychos.

I looked over at the speaker not wanting to bother Chris because I rarely want to even speak to him. I walked over pushing the number 5 on the speaker and hoped this man was in his room.

"Hey kinely are you doing ok?" He genuinely sounded concerned. "Can you come over here please" I knew I didn't have to really ask him because he doesn't mind coming and checking on me anyways but I thought to ask just in case . "Sure just give me a sec" Hyunjin was always in here and even though Chris comes in often to talk to me he's always busy it's only for a few seconds before he goes back to "work".

Hyunjin came within fifteen minutes. He knocks making sure I'm not naked or anything. I think that it was pretty nice of him to do considering the other boys just come in as they please. I mean I know it's your home and all but a girl needs privacy.

"Come in" I yelled from my closet, I had just put on sweats and a hoodie to get a little comfortable. "You sent for me?" He walked in and closed the door behind him. "I was wondering if you could stay in here for a little longer than you normally do? I think I'm gonna go insane in here by myself" he chuckled at me being immensely dramatic. I put the back of my hand on my forehead pretending to be a damsel in distress.

He walked over to my bed and sat on it and patted on it which was his way of telling me to sit down. "Maybe you don't have to stay in here all the time" he seemed like he was getting somewhere but I was yet to follow. "What do you mean?" Was he gonna take me out this house or was I reading this wrong? "Its not much but maybe you could come to my room. There's tons of things to do in there. We just can't let Chan know I'm taking you out considering he wants you in the room." He fidgets a little wondering how I was going to respond to his offer.

Hell yeah I was gonna take this opportunity to leave the room! I had nothing else to do in the looney house. "Why not?" I shrug not wanting him to know just how excited I was. He grabs my head and leads me to his room all the way in the other side of the house.

My jaw dropped once he opened his room door to let me inside. He had arcade games like ddr, those ones when you race on the motorcycle, street fighter and pac man. He had a giant tv mounted on his wall in front of his bed and a wii console which I havent seen in years. "Told ya" he crossed his arms leaning against doorframe while admiring the dumb look of shock on my face.

"Where do we even start?" I was still looking around trying to pinpoint the first thing I wanted to do. "Doesn't matter where we start all you need to know is I'll kick your ass at any game in this room" his cockiness shines through, a side of him I haven't seen since I first met him.

What he didn't know was how competitive I can get "You're gonna be very disappointed when you realize how much you suck compared to me, especially when I beat you in dance revolution" It was on now. I can see a gleam in his eyes and knew he was almost if not just as competitive as I am.

Twelve rounds, six wins , and six loses later. We decided to watch a movie. "How's it feel to loose to someone as amazing as I?" I stood on his bed placing my hand on my hips. I'm sure he's yet to meet someone as dramatic as me. "We both won and lost the same amount of time so I'd say we're equally as amazing if you ask me" hes right about that but this his room and his games that he plays all the time if he didn’t win then it would be embarrassing. Hyunjin pulls my right leg causing me to fall on his bed. "You asshole!" My body had no control over itself. It was bouncing up and down on its own and I couldn't even stop it.

"You were to one who wanted to watch a movie and you can't even sit still" Hyunjin teases while I finally get myself together and sit up all the way in the bed. "Plus you weren't calling me a asshole when I took you out of your room." I gasped while holding my chest. "Oh how dare you?" I squinted my eyes at him and he laughed at me.

I must admit I haven't felt this good in a few days. I almost forgot that I was being held against my will but the thought is always in the back of my mind. I finally settle down and Hyunjin was nice enough to let me choose the movie I wanted. So here we were, on the bed watching a movie. For comfort I lay my head on his shoulder and her wraps his wraps around me.

I felt relaxed and almost safe. Soon I fell asleep with the movie playing in the background. Hyunjin was staying still trying not to wake me up. In fact so still that he ended up falling asleep himself.

I just needed to wake up on time before Chris realizes that I'm gone.

Previous/next

[obiwanobi]

In the Sith Senator au, I imagine that sheev introduces them either at a dinner party or maybe at a gala? anakin is in his robes as always and obiwan is super dressed up because he's a respectable senator thank you very much and he calls anakin darling and sweet thing and stuff like that and within an hour he has anakin wrapped around his finger

Okay, so WHY NOT BOTH? The last long post about this AU was painful, so have some “hate at first sight” and “0.2 sec for Obi-Wan to fix it and learn that banter and endearments can turn Anakin into a very charming mess” 

The first time they met, Obi-Wan has just been elected Senator after working in politics on Stewjon for years, making enough important friends and empty promises to be re-elected even without showing his face on Stewjon until the next decade. It’s his first month back on Coruscant, close to Sidious after years on his own. He needs to show him that his presence here, so close to his Master, is right, and can only benefit their plans. Even when everything isn’t… great.

The committee of small planets of the mid rim is pestering him to join their sad little club of useless dustballs, he has dozens of demands of various needy mayors, dignitaries and even ministers from Stewjon to reply to, the Senate security staff are a bunch of lazy bastards who still haven’t given him his pass and badge to enter and exit the building whenever he wants to and keep pretending not to recognize him even though they force him to go through a full security check every morning, and he can’t find a decent assistant to hire. 

You could say that Senator Kenobi is a bit on edge. 

He really, really doesn’t need to be late to his first real, private meeting with Sidious, especially because his only excuse is ‘I forgot how busy traffic was on Coruscant in the morning, don’t blame me I’m used to the countryside and seeing more sheep than ships on my way to work”. That would probably not go too well.  

Looking at his chrono every twenty seconds, he doesn’t pay enough attention to where he’s going and doesn’t notice the man turning at a corner on his side, running fast enough to come crashing against him without having the chance to do anything about it.

One second, a sharp cry, a flurry of dark robes and a cup of tea flying, and they’re both on the ground.  

Obi-Wan isn’t pleased. You could say he’s even a bit exasperated, lying on his back, a stranger’s elbow digging in his stomach. And then he turns his head to see who’s stupid enough to run in the Senate’s corridors on a Monday morning and almost curses out loud when he recognises Jedi robes and a stupid Padawan’s braid. 

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s used to suppressing his Force-presence so no one can feel him and he’s not going to make a scene to attract more attention. He’s going to inhale and exhale slowly, accept the deepest of apologies from the stupid Jedi with a benevolent smile, repress his need to do something harsh, and be on his way.  

But then the Padawan groans, rubs his head and asks reproachfully why Obi-Wan didn’t watch where he was going. 

It’s eight am, half of his (expensive and only sold on Stewjon) tea on the floor, and Obi-Wan already wants to strangle a Jedi.

So, there is a shouting match.

Words like “pathetic life form” and “karking useless politician” are thrown, and it takes almost half a minute for Obi-Wan to realise that he’s arguing with a dumb teenager and that they’re still on the floor, half on top of each other. He, very politely, asks the Padawan to get the kriff up, doesn’t take the time to even look at the remains of his cup of tea after salvaging his wet datapad from the puddle on the ground, and leaves with one last silent death glare. 

“You’re not even going to clean that?” the Padawan yells in his back, sounding revolted. 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. What are droids for these days? 

*

“You’re late,” Palpatine says flatly the instant the door of his office closes behind Obi-Wan. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Yes, Master.”  

“Call me Chancellor for now. I want you to meet someone and he should be here soon. He could become important, maybe even crucial for our plans.”

“Oh? Another Senator or representative to charm?” 

“Even better,” Palpatine smiles. And that’s what gets Obi-Wan interested. He knows this is the reason he’s here and the reason Sidious wants him in the Senate. Obi-Wan is a smooth talker, a nice face and a warm smile all in one. Someone who, with enough time and efforts, could make anyone believes in anything.

Palpatine always said that he was made for politics. 

“He could be a decisive piece in this game. It will take a lot of careful manipulation and dedication to bring him to our side and I don’t have this kind of time to waste, so you’ll do. With enough care and patience, I think he could be the most loyal and useful… support, we could have.” 

“Who is he? What do you want me to say and how far am I allowed to go?”

A knock at the door interrupts them. “For now,” Palpatine says in a low voice, sitting behind his desk, joining his hands together above it, the picture of old and trusted wisdom, “I just need you to make him like you.” 

That’s not going to be a problem, Obi-Wan thinks, as the doors open. He straightens up, gets ready to put on his most radiant smile and displays an inviting openness and friendliness that few can resist. 

The Padawan enters. 

This is going to be a problem. 

*

“Ah! My favourite Jedi!” Sidious exclaims loud enough to be heard over the music and raising his cocktail above their heads. Anakin Skywalker smiles as he sees him, and dutifully comes closer. The Chancellor makes a point of clapping his hand twice on his shoulder once Skywalker is in front of him, and leaves it there as he introduces him to his new chief of staff. If anyone is wondering what a Padawan is doing at a Senate party that should only include political staffers and a few dignitaries, no one breaths a word of it. 

It gives Obi-Wan time to gauge, assess and appraise Skywalker, his reactions, body language, and anything he can learn from a simple conversation between Sidious and him. It would be his turn to do it soon. Relieve me from the burden of having to stroke the boy’s ego regularly so I can take care of more pressing issues, his master had snarled disdainfully. Right now, he’s playing the part of the dotting and proud fatherly figure to perfection, Obi-Wan has to give him that. 

Attention, approval and respect, Sidious had told me. That’s all you need to be in Skywalker’s good graces. The boy will soak every bit of kindness you can spare, as long as he considers you someone worth his own devotion.

It didn’t stop Obi-Wan from learning absolutely everything he could about him, from his lightsaber technique to his favourite food because Obi-Wan is and will always be a very thorough man who doesn’t rely on luck or unprecise sciences like basic psychology. Especially from his Master, who probably never encountered an emotion or feeling he couldn’t twist to fuel his ambition. 

Admittedly, Obi-Wan doesn’t share his Master enthusiasm for charming the brat and make him fall. He’s all for turning him against the Jedi, sure, that he can get behind and happily endorse, but having to deal with a moody teenager on a regular basis for the foreseeable future? It would be painful for everyone. Especially for Obi-Wan’s nerves.

 Anakin Skywalker, reckless, volatile and troublesome former slave and actual Padawan, wasn’t the type of Sith candidate Obi-Wan would have chosen. Not at all. Too many variables, too many chances to go wrong, a wild card that he would never risk. 

But Sidious is adamant. Doesn’t care for any of his arguments. He wants Skywalker, and Obi-Wan has started to realise why when he learnt all about the prophecy. Stealing the Jedi Chosen One and turning him against them in a last-second betrayal was the kind of symbolic irony Sidious loved and would gloat about for years to come. And when Sidious decides that he needs something, there is no going back. 

But this time, Obi-Wan has to do all the hard work himself. He calculates that getting close to Skywalker, especially after their more than tense official introduction, is going to take months, maybe even (and Obi-Wan shudders at the thought) a year. Trapped at playing nice with an overgrown child who hates being told no and likes to think he’s above the rules. For no direct and personal benefit but the approval of his own Master.

Obi-Wan really, really hates it.

But that’s not going to stop him from completing his mission perfectly, as he has always done. 

“I’m glad to see you, Chancellor,” Skywalker says softly, his quiet tone already at odd with what Obi-Wan expected. He grew taller than the last he saw him, and Obi-Wan hates it. His braid is a bit longer and his robes are a shade darker than a few months ago. Something passes in his eyes when the Padawan notices Obi-Wan’s presence next to the Chancellor and his head snaps up defiantly. “Senator Kenobi,” he grits out like the words pain him. 

Obi-Wan needs to change this right now before Sidious deems him inapt for this mission.

He hates this a bit more. 

The opportunity is given quicker than he thought when Sidious excuses himself and leaves their little group to mingle with other demanding sycophants. Obi-Wan gets stuck with Skywalker, Sidious’ chief of state who’s apparently only here for the free drinks, and Keneg, the senator of… Corulag? Barl’leth? One of those rich Core planets that hate anyone who isn’t them but need to be kept around for their credits, who always seems to suck years of his life every time Obi-Wan is forced to speak to him. It takes thirty seconds for all of them to grow bored of Keneg incessant complaints about how the lower levels of his planet are “ruining its reputation” and that the problem resides in their too lenient immigration policy, especially concerning poor and uneducated races.

Skywalker’s face is a journey. At least twelve different emotions play through his eyes, the twists of his mouth and raised eyebrows like a theatre actor in a dramatic scene at each careless word coming out of the Senator’s mouth, and Obi-Wan wonders if anyone has ever told him that Jedi are supposed to be masters of their own emotions first and foremost. Especially around politicians. 

But it doesn’t matter right now, because that’s the opening he was waiting for. 

“Excuse me Senator Keneg,” He cuts him off politely before another endless tirade. “I’m afraid I have to go, I see the Senator of Botor and I’ve been trying to talk to him for months. Surely you understand. Padawan Skywalker, may I ask for your assistance? We could use some Jedi wisdom in our debate, if you don’t mind.” 

Skywalker looks torn between being relieved to be offered an out from an awful conversation, but also have no desire to spend more time with Obi-Wan. 

“Sure,” he ends up mumbling, apparently judging that he was the lesser of two evils. 

“Wonderful.” Obi-Wan doesn’t pay any attention to the betrayed look Sidious’ chief of state sends him after being left alone with Keneg.

“So,” Skywalker says, resigned, following Obi-Wan who’s making a beeline for the bar. “Where is he?”

“Who?” 

“The senator of Botor? And what’s your deal with him?” 

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Obi-Wan replies, trying to ignore the casual tone Skywalker shouldn’t take with a Senator, even one he dislikes. 

“What? Then why did you ask me to come with you?”

“Aren’t you relieved that I saved you from dreadful hours of xenophobic discussions about how poor people should be banned from showing their face in public because it doesn’t please Senator Keneg?”

“You didn’t save me,” Skywalker grimaces, but still seats beside him. “Is it… Is it always like that? I mean, I know Core worlds politicians can be a little…”

Obi-Wan weighs his options, and decides that Skywalker would probably appreciate truth more than carefully chosen words and subtle hypocrisy. Pretending to be the last nice man in politics is out of the question with the way they met, so Obi-Wan opts for sincerity.

To a degree. 

“Snobbish? Disconnected from reality? Shameless bastards with no souls?” Obi-Wan says while signalling the bartender for Trandoshan ale and a cocktail.

“Well, yes.” 

“Welcome to politics.” 

Skywalker opens his mouth like he’s going to protest. He puts his hands in his sleeves, probably hoping to pass for a wise Jedi Master, but his pouty lips and frowned eyebrows make him look like a sulking youngling. “You’re part of it, you know. You can talk about it like you’re not one of them, but I remember you insulting me and leaving without caring about your tea and cup all over the floor.”

What a brat.

“My tea- My dear, do I have to remind you that you barreled into me at full stupid and made me spill my tea everywhere? Some Senators would have made a diplomatic incident out of it,” he huffs, a bit more irritable than he wanted to. 

 “You said I was a brainless child!” 

“Because you ar—” Their drinks arrive at that moment, and it gives Obi-Wan precious seconds to compose himself.

This isn’t how he’s supposed to play it. He didn’t expect Skywalker to be this whiny and petulant, despite Sidious’ warning, and was planning on letting him think he was the one in control of the situation. He’s supposed to be a Jedi for Force sake, not someone who can’t control their tongue and get into pointless fights with politicians! 

No, no. Grin and bear it. Obi-Wan should recall the last remnant of Jedi philosophy still in him. 

“Padawan Skywalker, I’m sorry if my words offended you,” Obi-Wan says with the voice he normally uses for debates where he wants to appear as the most sincere and reasonable party. He holds a glass of ale to Skywalker, as a peace offering. “I admit I wasn’t in the most pleasant of disposition at that time, and I may have been harsher than I realised. I hope you can forgive me.” 

This seems to mollify Skywalker a bit. He doesn’t look like he’s going to forget it, but does take the offered glass. “At least the Chancellor is different,” he sighs and Obi-Wan represses the urge to burst into laughter. 

Oh, Skywalker is truly the most naïve boy around. Perhaps twisting his mind will turn out to be fun. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan exclaims suddenly as the Padawan holds the glass to his lips, “are you even old enough to drink?” 

“Oh come on, I’m 19! I can handle a beer and I’m a Jedi, don’t forget,” he brags, like being Force-sensitive changes anything about his (probably low) alcohol tolerance. To be fair, a regular politician wouldn’t know anything about what the Force could and couldn’t do. Skywalker’s probably relying on lack of awareness about the magic and mysterious abilities of the Jedi to get away with it. It’s almost endearing. 

 “I don’t know, Padawan, you did look like an adorable sulking youngling just a minute ago.”

“Ador- I’m not adorable!” He yelps as his cheeks turn into an interesting shade of pink. 

“But you don’t deny the youngling comment,” Obi-Wan teases good-naturedly between two sips of his cocktail. He can’t help it: It is way more intriguing to follow the colours on his face spreading to his neck than being on the receiving end of his frowns and accusing words.

Unduly flustered for such an innocent comment, Skywalker stutters a few syllables, huffs, and narrows his eyes at his glass, Obi-Wan’s playful smile, and his glass again. He downs the whole thing with his head thrown back before Obi-Wan can say anything, surprised by the sudden motion and too busy watching his throat moving until the empty glass is back on the table with a resounding clank. Still wiping his mouth, he calls the bartender and asks for another. Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the ‘don’t you dare stop me’ glare. 

This isn’t how he imagined befriending him, but Skywalker is still seating next to him and getting into a rant about how he’s a capable man, thank you very much, and yesterday his Master even said so, well, not in these words, but he’s not a youngling, and absolutely not adorable, he’s a warrior, a protector, but he doesn’t suppose a politician can understand, and if Obi-Wan wants to know, his sabre technique is exceptional, really, it is! 

His whole speech is supported by hands flying around to illustrate his words and mouthfuls of ale, because he is a man and not a kid, remember that, Senator Kenobi. It doesn’t prevent him from flushing a bit deeper and spluttering even more when Obi-Wan, listening attentively with a smile on his face, throws an indulgent of course you are, darling.

Skywalker turns his face away from him, desperate to hide his embarrassment, and orders another ale. 

Adorable. 

 Obi-Wan can work with that.   

*

Hours later, once Skywalker is happily sloshed and dangerously leaning toward crashing against his shoulder, Obi-Wan calls him a hover cab.  

“Thanks, Senator Kenobi!” Skywalker exclaims as he climbs into the cab, like Obi-Wan is now his favourite person to be around. His cheerful and warm demeanour has stopped being surprising after his second ale. “You’re not as awful as I thought!” 

Obi-Wan can’t help it, he laughs, truly laughs at that. It’s probably the most sincere compliment he’s gotten since he arrived at the Senate. “I’m glad you consider me a slightly better man than Senator Keneg,” he says, leaning forward toward Skywalker, hands on the cab. 

Skywaker grins and raises an eyebrow at him. “And more handsome too!” 

For once, it’s Obi-Wan who must look baffled. Despite his careful planning, all his diverse estimations and assessments about the different ways he could charm Skywalker, he didn’t consider actually seducing him. That’s… a whole new point of view. 

Interrupting his thoughts, Skywalker yawns and starts hugging his robe around himself, smiling contently like he’s in the best place in the galaxy, barely trying to blink away sleep from his eyes. Adorable.  

On an impulse, Obi-Wan leans closer to him and tugs on his braid. The reaction is worth it: Skywalker makes a small surprised noise, eyes suddenly wide, and the slight flush on his cheeks worsen in an instant.

Obi-Wan almost considers touching his face, just to see how warm his skin is. And maybe even brushing his parted lips with his thumb, just to see how warm it can still get. 

But Obi-Wan feels merciful.

For tonight. 

“Sleep well, Padawan,” he purrs, winding the thin braid around his finger one last time. Skywalker looks like he’s going to melt.  

Obi-Wan can work with that too. 

*

Two months later, Sidious tells him that he’s going to be the victim of an assassination attempt right before the Military Act vote. It would be acceptable for the Chancellor to be concerned about the protection and security of all Senators, of course, so he will push for Jedi protection and is certain to convince the Council to send one particular Padawan as a bodyguard. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t hate the idea. 

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Out of Time

summary: As Loki lay dying he makes one last phone call to you, pretending that it is just another ordinary day. warnings: character death, blood, poison, angst, language a/n: this was inspired after a similar story by @what-just-happened-bro (read it here). I churned this out in just a few hours and I’m sure that I missed some errors, but I think the effect is still the same! wordcount: 1209 masterlist here

Loki was meant to have more time.

Was that not the bittersweet draw of falling in love with a Midgardian? He was to spend the rest of your fleeting, mortal existence by your side, basking in the sunlight of your smile, and then when it faded beyond the horizon, he would follow you to the gates of Valhalla where you so rightfully belonged.

You had fought him for the entirety of your relationship on his worthiness to step into that hallowed hall. Between playful fights on your bed as you writhed beneath him, eyes gleaming with mischief and love, and passionate shouting matches that always ended in you falling into the soothing embrace of the other, insistent but gentle as you stroked his hair in your small and tender hand, you’d convinced him that he may have earned his place after all.

If only it would allow him to see you once again.

The dirt and rocks bit into his back as he shifted to survey the slash rending his skin in two. Sweat blurred his vision, but even he could see the inky black toxin dyeing his veins before it disappeared between his leather armor. The acrid amalgamation of metallic blood and pungent poison coated his tongue, a most heart-wrenching death knell.

There wasn’t enough time.

A snap of his fingers called his phone into his trembling hand. The picture of you, smiling into the camera with the sun in your eyes, smudged with blood as he swiped his thumb to unlock it. The one object that he had loathed the most--if he wished to communicate with someone he would do so in person--was now his most precious possession.

Just one more stolen bit of time with you thanks to such primitive technology. Please.

A deep breath, a cough that wracked his prone body, and then he held the phone to his ear.

Norns, please answer.

“Hello- ah shit! Hold on one sec, Loki.”

There you were, his love. He listened to the running of water, your unintelligible muttering, and what sounded like food sizzling. Each second was an eternity that stretched far too long. He didn’t have enough time.

“Darling? Are you there?” His bloodshot eyes darted over the bodies of the dark elves he had slain, a gruesome sight to send him to the end of his days.

Your breath blew into the speaker just before you speak, and his soul sighed in relief. “Sorry, Mischief. I burnt my hand on the pan again. Think you can help me out when you get home?”

Tears burned the backs of his eyes and he turned his face to the cloudless sky so that they rolled streaks down the dirt staining his sharply cut cheeks. He swallowed around the thickness in his throat. “Of course, my love. What are you making?”

“Your favorite.” The sound of you puttering around in the background, tending to the food, tossing a used spoon in the sink, was all so domestic and achingly familiar that he could so easily picture you there. It was one of his favorite sights, you comfortable and content in your home, turning even the most mundane activities into a glorious occasion just by your partaking in them.

His hands knew the softness of your skin beneath his “borrowed” t-shirt you wore as a nightshirt. His nose knew the scent of your hair, a combination of the both of you after he held you flush to his chest throughout the night. He knew the tilt of your head as you’d inspect the food you prepared. He could almost picture you now, face flushed from the heat of the stove as you beamed your happiness into the phone.

It was selfish, to not tell you of the true reason behind his call, but he did not want to hear your voice twisted in despair. He was not strong enough to withstand such pain.

“I forgot to grab some bread from the store,” you admitted with a frustrated sigh. You were always so adorable when you’d purse your lips at your own shortcomings. How he’d kiss any worries or anxieties from your delectable face. He should’ve done so more often. “Can you pick that up on the way home?”

“You and your forgetful mind. What would you do without me?” he jested hollowly, playing off the sob that forced its way past his throat as a quick laugh. He coughed again and pressed his hand over the wound on his chest. The searing agony grounded him, pulled him away from the darkness closing in on the edges of his vision.

He would take all the time he had for you.

“Good thing I’ll never have to find out.”

The surety of your voice, so sweet, so innocent, wrapped around his heart and squeezed. It had only begun to beat again when you’d skipped into his life, chasing away the shadows of his past with a bubbly laugh, sharp tongue, and warm embrace. How cruel was it that he was to lose his life after he had only just begun to live it?

He closed himself off to the sights around him; his eyelids were just too heavy. You stood there in his mind’s eye, swaying your hips back and forth to the faint tune he could hear behind the din of your cooking. An angel sent to guide him towards peace.

“Loki, I gotta g-”

“No!” he pleaded, his voice a high, frightened shout that tore at his parched throat. He eased the harshness of his words with a ragged sigh. “No, darling. I need to know if you need anything else, before you hang up.”

You hummed quietly in thought. Always with a delicate press of your lips together and a gentle furrow of your brow. “Just you. Are you coming home soon?”

Loki had promised to never lie to you, and he had always kept that promise throughout your relationship. He hoped that you’d forgive him for breaking that vow, just this once. “Yes. I cannot wait to be in your arms again, my love. I miss you so terribly.”

“If you miss me so much, come and get me,” you teased, and then your voice lowered with sincerity. “Miss you, too. I love you.”

The darkness began to overwhelm even the perfection of your smiling face in his thoughts. He could not fight it for the wash of ice gripping his trembling, ruined body. Not even the sickly heat of his blood trapped between pallid skin and sweat-slick leather could warm him now. A Frost Giant, and it would be the cold embrace of Death to take him from you. There was an irony there, but he was too weary to find it. All of his strength went into his hushed reply of, “I love you too, little one, more than all the stars in the sky.”

Never before had silence rang so loudly in his ears. He dragged his eyes open and turned his head to the side, staring at the lockscreen on his phone. Staring at you. Red was not your color, no, but nothing could ever detract from your beauty.

Not even his last, rattled breath.

Loki was finally out of time.

~

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