#and I can do like ten more consecutive push-ups than when I started!

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

.

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

My first DC fanfic! More specifically a Jason Todd fic. (Jason Todd/Reader)

English is not my first language! So if there's any mistake please be kind and let me know.

You can also find it in AO3.

Chapter 2

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to live inside the stories that you read on books and see on TV, what it would be like to be a medieval princess, a pirate exploring all seas, the girlfriend of a certain vigilante/crime lord that has you reading fanfiction after fanfiction about him. But what happens when one day you wake up in an unknown city, in an unknown cave filled with bats and a kid with a domino mask looking intently at you?

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to live inside the stories that you read on books and see on TV, what it would be like to be a medieval princess, a pirate exploring all seas, the girlfriend of a certain vigilante/crime lord that has you reading fanfiction after fanfiction about him.

Naturally, no matter how much you daydream about those worlds, you always come back to your nice, calm, but sometimes monotonous life.

Many wouldn’t consider a hotel receptionist would make an exciting job, let alone a prestigious one, but you like it. Love it, even, as you’ve had the opportunity to meet a vast array of people from all over the world, some even sharing their life’s stories, as well as leaving you enough time to work on your hobbies.

Of course, you’ve also had to deal with the typical Karens and Darrens that like to create problem after problem all because they never bother to utilize their brains for a second, let alone develop any level of reading comprehension. ‘What do you mean I can’t go swimming? Yes, I read the sign that says the pool’s closed today, but I want to swim’, or ‘Yes, I’m not an idiot, I know the door says breakfast is from seven to ten, but I always eat breakfast at twelve’ or your favorite ‘What do you mean I have to pay for the table that almost killed my children? Well, yes, I know they were jumping on top of it but it’s a serious hazard to have such cheap furniture! An accident waiting to happen!”

Even though at that moment it’s stressful and tiring dealing with them, at the end of the day they added to the list of stories you couldn’t wait to share with your friends every time you met up.

Today however, was a slow day, the constant, heavy downpour in the city making everyone reach their rooms as soon as possible to change their dripping-wet clothes into something warm and comfortable.

“D’you think it’ll stop soon?”

“The rain? Yeah, seems like it.” Joan, your coworker, replied, not looking up from her phone. “It’s not as heavy as it was an hour ago.”

You hoped she was correct, as your shift was about to end and you didn’t want to deal with the headache that it was not only to get a cab in this weather, but one that wouldn’t charge you 200% more than usual.

“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” Joan asked, resting her charging phone on the desk and turning towards you. “Anything exciting? Any dates?” At her last question, she raised her eyebrows consecutively, drawing a chuckle out of you.

“If only.” You snort. “I haven’t had any luck, not even on dating apps. People nowadays just want sex. Quick, done and gone. I’m not saying it’s not nice, but I want something… Real. Someone that can even make grocery shopping exciting, not just a face that I’ll forget in a few weeks.”

“So, you want someone that does not exist, got it.”

Laughing, you gently push her shoulder with your hand, the wheeled chair desk sending her a few centimeters away.

“They do exist.”

“Sure, but just in those stories you read.”

With a pout, you began thinking about the newest fanfiction you’d discovered last night and started binge-reading it, with 56 chapters, and you were already on chapter 39.

A sudden flush crept across your cheeks, embarrassment at being 22 and spending your weekends reading some silly fanfiction instead of going out to have some drinks.

But who could blame you? Whoever SuperWomBat_89 was, they sure were blessed with the writing of an angel, every single word so carefully chosen to convey the poetry their writing was, a story so romantic and profound that had you shedding a lonely tear at remembering people like Jason Todd — your newest hyperfixation —, did not exist.

Besides, it was way better than doing drugs, or kicking old ladies. Or doing drugs while kicking old ladies.

Not to mention, everyone enjoyed their limited time on earth in different ways, remembering that just because you didn’t enjoy the common pastime of your peers didn’t make you a weirdo or a failure.

No matter how many times some of your classmates called you that.

When you stopped disassociating, you took a glance at your phone, the time reading five minutes to six. Standing up from your chair, your eyes examined the weather outside through the glass doors, glad the storm had turned into a light drizzle, nothing your umbrella wouldn’t protect you from.

Bidding goodbye at Joan, you made your way towards the staff room, using the private bathroom to change into something more comfortable to walk home; pants, an oversized sweater and sneakers, walking out the back door.

Usually, you would put on your headphones for your fifteen-minute walk home, but as luck would have it, you’d forgotten to charge them, and not wanting to bother the other pedestrians walking home, you opted for not putting music on the phone speakers, no matter how low the volume was, making you more cognizant of the world around you.

Now, normally you wouldn’t call yourself an idiot. You considered yourself to be quite smart, honestly. Even if most of your actions didn’t seem like it. But you were, promise.

But when a strange light without a seemingly clear source brightened up a whole alleyway, you couldn’t help but get curious and walk towards it, a young, distorted voice coming up from somewhere around it.

“I knew it would work.” The voice said with glee. “B will… This technology…”

You couldn’t make up the rest of the sentence, the sound becoming too warped up for you to understand it. Was this some kind of magic illusion? A hidden camera? But looking all around, you couldn’t spot anything that resembled one, or something that would look out of place in an alley like this.

If someone were to ask you what possessed you to touch the light, you wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer, not even knowing it yourself. But you did it, feeling a warm, tingling sensation traverse your body until everything around you became engulfed in the bright light, including you.

[vieramars]

Making this its own post bc it wasn't getting seen as a reblog

Re: a very niche oddly specific fluffy TMA au

So I'm in a swing dance club and I started thinking about what if the characters of the magnus archives were all in a swing dance club. Absolutely no regard for canon, just all the characters hanging out having a time.

Half the characters do not know how to dance. Some are really good at it. Elias is the club leader who thought having a position of authority would be fun but now he's stuck managing a room full of chaos gremlins with fear powers.

Half the playlist is mechs songs. Nikola insists on doing live music every few meets.

Jon watches tons of videos on swing moves in order to learn them and is constantly watching his feet to make sure he's doing the steps right. He's a follow and almost exclusively dances with Martin. Even though he helped form the club he perpetually has new awkward member energy. Still, once he's had plenty of time to practice a move, he can do it perfectly nine times out of ten.

Martin is a much more confident dancer than someone who'd just met him would think. He's a lead and his musicality is on point. He's really good at songs with tempo changes, and his favorite move is probably swing kicks.

Tim and Sasha are terrifying on the dance floor. Sasha's the lead and every dance she's trying to beat her own record for how many times she can spin Tim consecutively. They prefer open position and every other move is a basket turn. 

Michael showed up one day and just became part of the club by being there, then later invited Helen along. Both of them like to dance with pretty much everyone, and both of them love sliding doors. Sometimes involving actual distortion doors. Their dance moves are reality bending and they always have the flashiest outfits. Michael is ambidancetrous (comfortable leading or following) and Helen is a lead.

Agnes wears very thick gloves so that she can dance with people without burning their hands. To avoid accidents she's also very good at no-contact moves. Sometimes she brings Jack over for club meetings. She's a lead and her favorite move is sugar pushes though she also likes line dances and does the best charleston out of the whole group.

Daisy and Basira are inseparable. But they are both leads. Rather than dancing with other people they just solo jazz and line dance together.

No matter who she's dancing with or what moves they're doing Nikola is killing it. Her favorite dances are steal dances where everyone's rapidly switching partners. She's always the fastest to find a new partner and get back into step. She does everything with a flourish and is an expert at dips of any kind.

Melanie and Georgie are just vibing. Probably the calmest dancers in the room despite being far from the calmest people. Georgie can dance the entire length of the meeting without taking a break.

Gerry mostly only dances with Michael, Mike, or Tim because they can match his energy the best. He loves fast-paced songs and complicated moves, and can absolutely fuck it UP at the shim sham.

Mike Crew also really likes fast-paced dances and loves spinning his partner until they might as well be in the vast for how dizzy they are. Dancing with him comes with a spin at your own risk disclaimer.

Oliver is more of a slow song enjoyer, and he joins Jon and Nikola in the live music performances. While Agnes is the best at many variations of the charleston, Oliver is the best at the cowboy charleston specifically, and he can do it while playing a fiddle.

Peter Lukas REFUSES to dance except for rarely when Elias convinces him to, in which case they have a vibe that's somewhere between overly formal ballroom dancing and Morticia and Gomez doing the most. 

Jane Prentiss is mostly here for the snacks and the vibes but she joins in for warm-ups and line dances. The only person she'll dance together with is Agnes cause they both prefer the least amount of physical contact possible.

Annabelle Cane is the main dance instructor and she's a phenomenal teacher. She knows all the moves by heart and she's rocking the roaring 20s aesthetic. If she's leading a line dance, everyone's in perfect sync.

If I missed anyone lmk, this is all coming directly out of my brain so some characters might've gotten lost in the stream of consciousness. I'm open to asks about dance pairs, who leads/follows in that pair, and what songs they would pick if they had the floor 👀

By the way, dance pairs do not equal ships! I do ship a few of these pairs (and it makes sense to me for couples to gravitate towards dancing together), but anyone can dance with anyone!

[baskingsol]

Fuck it, Mask Off

pairing: eventual!OC x Geto Suguru X Gojo Satoru

summary: Yami starts the kids' training, Gojo gets insulted and takes it personally, and the face reveal is finally here!

“Alright kids, grab a weapon,” Yami announces, gesturing to the cart of wooden practice weapons. “We’re not going to send anyone to Shoko today for stab wounds.”

“Don’t want to get on her bad side?” Maki smirks, grabbing a wooden staff.

“Nope.” Yami laughs, twirling wooden tantos as Yuta steps up to grab a wooden katana. “I would prefer to stay in her good graces for as long as possible. Panda and Inumaki, you can just use your fists if you would like. Geto will signal us to start.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki confirms, Panda throwing a thumbs up as well.

“What about us?” Nanako gestures to herself and Mimiko. “We don’t fight physically.”

“I’m going to have you sit this one out,” Yami says, pointing over to the bleachers where Satoru, Suguru, and Megumi sit. “Why don’t you stay over there and watch? The second exercise will be much better for your specialties.”

“Got it teach,” Nanako confirms, Mimiko nodding her head as well as they both move quickly over to squeeze between Satoru and Suguru, much to Satoru’s dismay.

“Alright so for the rest of you,” Yami starts, turning back to the other four students. “We’ll do tag teams of two. Panda and Inumaki then Yuta and Maki, we’re gonna go til someone taps out.”

“Got it,” Maki nods, pushing Yuta towards the edge of the fighting area. “Good luck Panda, you’ll need it!”

“Hey, what does that mean?” Panda yells, “Caviar!” from Inumaki before a whistling noise directs their attention back to the teacher in front of them.

“You two ready?” Yami laughs, twirling her tantos in her hands once more. “Get in position.”

Panda and Inumaki position themselves about ten paces away, stances changing, awaiting the signal from Suguru. “GO!” A sudden surge of speed results in Innumaki being knocked on his back and Panda keeling over at his waist, both taking Yami’s blades straight to the stomach, the bluntness resulting in a punch-like pain. Ducking and rolling back as Panda swipes at her arms, Yami pops back up, branding the blades in a protective stance.

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki groans, getting back to his feet.

“Block next time,” Panda mutters, earning a dirty look from the boy. Ten more minutes of punches meeting wood and bodies landing on the ground finally ends with Panda raising his hand to tap out.

“You did well,” Yami praises, helping Inumaki back up after ramming him to the ground again. “Lasted longer than I expected.”

“Salmon Roe,” He groans.

“Go just as hard on those two,” Panda mutters, side-eyeing the twins laughing along with Satoru on the bleachers.

“Oh don’t worry,” Yami laughs, waving Maki and Yuta in to take their place. “They’ll get tossed around just as much as you did.”

After a switching of teams, delayed slightly to ensure Inumaki and Panda were only bruised and not seriously hurt, the three now on the field assumed their fighting positions. Maki had great defense, barking commands to Yuta when necessary to avoid being knocked down as much as Inumaki did. After the two both managed to land a consecutive hit on Yami, Yuta raised his hand, panting.

“I think that's all I can do, Yokai-sensi.” Yuta wheezed, Maki rolling her eyes as she panted just as much.

“You two did great,” Yami laughed, patting Yuta on his shoulder. “I'm very impressed with you both getting good hits in.”

“Break time?” Maki asks, eyes drifting over to the now large group hanging all over the bleachers.

“Yep. Grab some water and some snacks. I think Geto packed some for the group,” Yami replies, waving them along as she walks over.

“You deserve a break before we start the second exercise.”

Back at the bleachers, Satoru is already in a heated argument with Panda and Inumaki, Nanako and Mimiko braiding Suguru's hair, and Megumi silently listening along to Satoru's argument while pretending to read a book.

“Yokai, we want your opinion!” Panda chirps as Yami and the two reach the bleachers. “Gojo here is trying to say you went easy on us.”

“Well, you did!” Satoru laughs, leaning back on the metal seat.

“There's no way you'd use your full power against kids for training.”

“He's right, Panda,” Yami says, eyes rolling as Satoru smirks. “I'm not looking to gloat over winning against some kids.”

“Hey now!” Satoru's smirk drops at the small dig, and Panda and Inumaki laugh loudly. “You would use your full power against them if it wouldn't kill them.”

“Why don't you fight her then?” Megumi chimes in, flicking to the next page of his book. “She could go all out and if she did kill you, Shoko would have a good laugh.”

“Be nice Megumi.” Suguru scolds, the twins giggling as Megumi smiles. “Satoru's ego would be very hurt.”

“Now that's an idea,” Satoru replies, bandaged eyes now trained back on Yami. “All-out battle for the kids to watch?”

“You'd love that, wouldn't you?” Yami sneers, almost scolding the man.

“It would be really cool!” Panda says, Inumaki nodding his head along. “You can definitely beat him!”

“It'd be good for him.” Maki also agrees.

“Do you all believe she will beat me?” Satoru exclaims, only to get a resounding yes from the group and a laugh from Suguru. “Even you Suguru?”

“I think it'd be good for you to have a challenge,” Suguru coos. “No one else on your level wants to fight with you.”

“We can do it after the second exercise,” Yami cuts back in, taking control of the already spiraling conversation. “The rest of you have to get through that first before you get to see an actual fight.”

“So you'll go all out?” Satoru smiled.

“Just have Shoko out here on standby and sure.” Yami sighs, fingers rubbing her temples as Panda and Inumaki cheer loudly. “Let's just get through what's next first. Nanako, Mimiko, you're up. Megumi, you want to join?”

“Isn't this student training?” Megumi asks, closing his book. “I don't know if I'm allowed.”

“I asked for Geto to be here to observe and he's not a student,” Yami responds, gesturing to Suguru.

“I'll join them.” Megumi quickly states, getting up to follow the twin girls to the field.

“Don't be too rough on them,” Suguru quietly says. “Shoko's not here yet.”

“Shouldn't be more than bruising at most,” Yami promises, walking out towards the middle of the field.

Approaching Nanako, Mimiko, and Megumi, Yami toses the wooden tantos back onto the training cart and stretches her arms.

“So with you two being more supportive or long-distance specialties, your main objective during fights is to be able to dodge for enough time to survive,” Yami explains to Nanako and Mimiko. “I’m including you, Megumi, with them as your shikigami should be an add-on to your fighting and dodging is also important when controlling them.”

“So this training is learning how to dodge?” Nanako asks, confusion plastered on her face. “Wouldn’t it be best for us to fight each other to learn to dodge attacks?”

“That would be the case if I wanted you to learn how to dodge people,” Yami says, eyes glinting dangerously. “I want you to learn how to dodge curses.”

“Is Geto-sensi letting you use some of his?” Mimiko chimes up, Megumi rolling his neck in anticipation.

“No, she has her own.” Megumi murmurs, Nanako and Mimiko snapping their heads to him.

“Get ready kids.” Yami laughs, putting her hands on her hips. “Your task is to not get grabbed.”

“Grabbed?” Nanako starts, suddenly cutting off as pale hands sprout from the ground, clawing at her legs.

The three students dash away from each other, pale limbs sprout out of the ground aiming to grab feet as hands sprout from black pools in the sky grabbing at heads, torsos, and arms. Within the first minute, all three are caught and held by the pale hands.

“See how it works now?” Yami asks, sitting on a pair of pale hands.

“What the hell is this?” Nanako yells, struggling against the limbs.

A black puddle pours from above Yami, a pale top half of a woman with black liquid-flowing hair crawls out of the puddle to rest right above Yami, mouth split from ear to ear opening in a snarl of sharp teeth as the hair falls split to show multiple eyes.

“This is Kuchisake-onna. My vengeful spirit.” Yami announces, pale arms from the woman picking her up to sit in her arms, the pale ones that were used as a seat disappearing back into the ground. The pale arms that hold the three students drop them back to the ground.

“At least she doesn’t have her blade this time,” Megumi mutters, rubbing his arms where the hands held him.

“This is defensive training, I don’t want to stab you.” Yami laughs. “Ready to go again?”

As soon as she announces the start, arms start appearing again to grab at the students. Looking over to the bleachers, Yami stifles a laugh. Suguru and Satoru share the same goldfish look, eyes wide and mouths agape. Panda and Inumaki look gray, almost like they’re about to vomit. Maki smiles, laughing occasionally when a hand trips one of the three dodging, and Yuta looks intrigued watching Yami and Kuchisake-onna rather than the fight, smiling crookedly as Yami waves. A few more rounds of them evading for longer and longer finally stopping when Mimiko calls for an end.

“You guys were doing better than the first time,” Yami laughs, swinging down to land on the ground below Kuchisake-onna.

“I really hope we don’t go up against something like her,” Nanako huffs, catching her breath. “How would someone survive for a long time against her?”

“If you were to use shikigami, you could use them as a buffer to be caught in her hands rather than you,” Yami explains, pointing at Megumi. “Otherwise, you’d have to cut the hands so they couldn’t grab, but that's a sort of hydra situation until you got out of range.”

“So the best option would be to run unless you have fodder to fill the hands?” Megumi asks.

“The best option would be to run anyways as I’m not allowing her to use her blades which hurt a lot more than her grab.” Yami laughs, waving Panda, Inumaki, Maki, and Yuta onto the field. “I think Shoko would kill me if I got any of you stabbed.”

“Definitely wouldn’t be happy with you making her more work.” Maki laughs, Panda and Inumaki eyeing Kuchisake-onna warily.

“She won’t bite, I promise.” Yami teases, watching the two boys as she waves the group of three back to the stands. “Was she this scary when you two met her, Maki and Yuta?”

“I think she was scarier,” Yuta answered nervously watching Kuchisake-onna’s eyes focus in on him. “She did cut half that curse’s head off in one swipe. Your relationship with her and how you fight together was impressive”

“You’ll be able to do it just as well or better in time,” Yami responds. “She’s a lovely woman, so working together is easy.”

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki says, looking at Panda.

“I think I’m with Inumaki on this one,” Panda confirms, nervously laughing. “Maybe we just got the wrong first impression.”

“Well, I did keep up my end of tossing the girls around,” Yami laughs, hopping back up into Kuchisake-onna’s lowered arms. “It is your turn though. Same rules as the last group, do your best to evade.”

The round starts with Panda and Inumaki immediately being grabbed and held up in the air, Maki and Yuta doing well to evade the grabbing hands. A pair of arms shoot out of pools right above Yuta, snatching him off the ground, more summoned to hold him in their grip like a spider. Maki continued to dodge and weave, lasting easily double the time the other three did before finally being caught and held to the ground by hands.

“Very good Maki!” Yami praised the girl still squirming under the arms holding her down. “Yuta, very good as well. Panda and Inumaki, let’s try for a little bit longer, okay?”

“You act like your arms aren’t spawning on top of us!” Panda shoots back, a “caviar” in response from Inumaki.

“Keep complaining and I’ll use these arms to squish you into a ball,” Yami threatens, waving her finger in their faces. “You can survive at least a minute, aim for that.”

After releasing the kids gently to the ground, Yami allowed a minute to breathe and then started back up again. After several more rounds with Panda and Inumaki lasting longer and longer each time, finally calls an end to the exercise when they start to get caught just to rest.

“Let’s call it there for the day. You all did very well.” Yami praises, hopping down and walking the group of four back to the bleachers, Kuchisake-onna retreating into her black pool.

“I’m going to be sore for the next week,” Maki groaned, rubbing her shoulders. “Her hands gripped hard.”

“Well, she did have to keep you in her grasp.” Yami laughed, stopping in front of the others on the bleachers.

“That was very impressive,” Suguru says, leaning back on the metal seat. “Does she operate completely separate from you?”

“Mostly. There are some attacks we work together with like yesterday in the school but she can do everything separate from me.” Yami explains easily. “Mainly she’s an extra layer of defense and annoyance for the enemy to focus on.”

“You said she usually uses blades?” Suguru questions. “She was just grabbing during all this.”

“Tantos are her preferred weapon.” Yami gestures over to the wooden ones on the training cart. “She can spawn arms with them to attack with along with grabbing arms.”

“You’re just fighting with a whole other person at that point.” Satoru laughed, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Suguru over here can’t even do that with any of the curses he has.”

“I don’t think Kuchisake-onna would be too happy with that situation.” Yami sighs. “Nothing against you Suguru. She’s just very emotive like I’ve got a whole other person attached to me.”

“No offense taken. I agree that I prefer my curses to be the least humanism as possible.” Suguru smirks, glancing over at Satoru. “I’ve already got Satoru glued to me at all times.”

“And you love it!” Satoru squawks, poking Suguru on the cheek.

“Behave Satoru,” Suguru warns, swatting lightly at his finger. “Or else I’ll let the girls put cornrows in your hair.”

“Have a tender scalp Satoru?” Yami teases, hands on her hips. “Can’t stand some braids?”

“Satoru’s sensitive,” Suguru coos, now trapping the white-haired man close by grabbing his shoulder. “Poor scalp can’t handle being tugged on too much.”

“Shut it you.” Satoru scolds Suguru only to be given a smirk in return.

“I’ll make sure Kuchisake-onna doesn’t grab you by your hair then,” Yami chuckles. “Wouldn’t want you distracted during our fight.”

“As if.” Satoru huffs, escaping Suguru’s grip and standing to get off the bleachers. “A little hair-pulling wouldn’t distract me from beating you.”

Yami shares a look with Suguru, both of them seeing the dusting of pink under Satoru’s bandages and ears. “Yeah uh-huh, sure. Shoko almost here?”

“Just made it,” A woman’s voice says from behind Yami. “You better not kill her Gojo. I can’t always piece people back together.”

“Might be you putting him back together.” Yami laughs, turning to meet Shoko’s gaze.

“That’d be a new one. I’d get to study the destruction he’s done to his organs from his sugar intake.” Shoko snorts.

“Keep your hands off my organs,” Satoru snaps, pointing directly into Shoko’s face.

“I’d prefer no one be in pieces,” Suguru chimes in, stiffing his chuckles. “The kids don’t need to see that.”

“I promise not to cut him to pieces,” Yami raises her hand in mock swearing.

“I probably won’t blast you out of existence,” Satoru mutters, stepping down onto the field. “But let’s get this show on the road. All-out you said?”

“Yep,” Yami agrees. “You comfortable with that?”

“Including Infinity?” Satoru asks, hands in his pockets as they walk to the middle of the field. “I don’t want to feel bad about getting beat so badly.”

“You can have infinity up,” Yami laughs. “In exchange, I want you to answer a question.”

“One question?” Satoru chuckles, stopping and turning to meet Yami’s gaze. “Trying to figure me all out?”

“No no nothing like that,” Yami waves her hand. “Equal exchange for full power.”

“Okay shoot,” Satoru shrugs.

“Am I pretty?”

Satoru’s smile falters, confusion creeping up his face as his body slightly freezes.

“What kind of question is that?” He laughs awkwardly. “Bit forward for someone that just put your name to a face, no?”

“Oh, now the great Gojo Satoru is flustered,” Yami sighs, rolling her eyes. “It’s a yes or no answer.”

“To what end though?” Satoru snaps back. “There has to be some reason to throw such an off-base question out before our fight.”

“I told you, an answer gives you allowance to use infinity.” Yami quickly repeats. “The sooner you answer, the sooner we can start.”

“Fine,” Satoru sighs, brushing his hair back off his bandages. “Yes.”

“Perfect,” Yami sighs, reaching under her braid. Gripping the front of the mask with one hand, she unclips the straps from around her head. Straps falling from around her face, she pulls the mask free from her face sighing in relief. Cut from cheek to cheek, her mouth resembles that of Kuchisake-onna’s, except for human-like teeth and strips of skin and muscle connecting the top and lower of her face.

“Still keeping the same answer?” Yami smiles at the blank look on Satoru’s face as pale arms spawn above and below him, swinging down with tantos and reaching up to grab his legs, as she steps back into a large black rift behind her.

Teleporting around the field, dodging the hands spawning where he moves to, Satoru laughs. “So this is what you’ve been hiding.” As if in response, a snarl cuts in behind him followed by a tearing of fabric. Teleporting away, he shrugs off his jacket, now sporting two large slashes down the middle of the back. Glancing back over to where he just was, there was not a pale arm but instead, the upper half of Yami out of a black hole, giving a little wave with her ulu before disappearing back into the portal. A sudden shake of the ground gives way to multiple arms shooting out where Satoru stands, chasing him back around and around the field.

“Getting a good look?” A sudden voice says, startling Suguru watching the spectacle from the bleachers. Snapping his head to the sound of the voice, he’s welcomed to the view of Yami’s head popping out of a small puddle.

“Jesus that’s freaky.” Suguru laughs. “Shouldn’t you be focused on fighting out there?”

“Nah, Kuchisake hasn’t gotten to chase someone around in a while so this is good for her,” Yami smirks. “He can’t sense me over here either, all the holes will look like I could be in them.”

“You gonna stay in there til he gets frustrated?” Suguru teases. “He won’t be too happy about that.”

“No, no I’m not a coward,” Yami laughs. “Just a few more minutes. I did promise not to cut him up.”

“Too bad his jacket didn’t count.” Shoko chimes in, chuckling.

“Better than trying to piece him back together,” Yami smiles, making eye contact with Satoru on the field. “Oop better get back there, he saw me.”

“Stop hiding in there!” Satoru shouts, dodging another blade swinging at him. “I was promised an all-out fight!”

Yami laughs again before disappearing back into the puddle. The arms grabbing and swinging at Satoru stop, leaving him standing in the middle of an empty field again. A large pool opens above him, a waterfall of black liquid immediately dumping on him. Teleporting away again, liquid falling on him infinity, a tanned figure shoots out of the liquid.

“Concave!”

A sudden prickling feeling shoots all over Satoru’s body, the droplets of liquid turning to needles piercing his infinity, stabbing into his skin, then turning back into liquid, dripping to the ground. Satoru looks up to see Yami standing ten feet away, Kuchisake-onna hanging out of her puddle behind her brandishing tantos in front of her protectively.

“Play time’s over.” Satoru smiles, rushing at Yami.

A clash of limbs and blades meets Satoru as he teleports in front of Yami. Pale arms gripping and slicing in every direction as he dodges, closing in on Yami. A slash cuts his hand, then his face, cutting through his bandages covering his eyes. The wall of limbs is pushed back by Satoru’s extended infinity, many disappearing back into the black pools, leaving just Yami crouched, shielded by Kuchisake-onna’s arms connected to her main torso a few feet away, panting.

“How’d you get through infinity?” Satoru asks quickly.

“Domain amplification. Nulls cursed techniques to let me through,” Yami smiles, breathing heavily. “Fighting with you has been fun.”

“Fun?” Satoru chuckles. “Well, I’m glad this has been all fun and games for you.”

“Don’t pretend this hasn’t been fun for you too,” Yami teases, standing from her position. “You got to see what the mysterious Yokai was all about and kept my promise to show you under the mask. We gave the kids a pretty good show too.”

Small cuts litter the visible skin of her body along with bruised handprints on her stomach and arms. Reaching into a black pool in the air next to her, she pulls her mask out and shakes the excess black fluid off.

“So the portals?” Satoru asks, eyeing the now-closing puddle.

“The space Kuchisake-onna occupies when not present in this world,” Yami explains, the aforementioned curse now sinking back into another large black pool. “Keeps all her limbs and blades inside.”

“Interesting.” Satoru comments. “How are you able to go into that?”

“That’s a trademark secret,” Yami teases. “Knowing you, you’d just keep trying to pull me out or try getting in.”

“But you can stick just parts of yourself out though?” Satoru questions, motioning to walk back together to the bleachers. “You had your head out talking when we were supposed to be fighting.”

“Yeah I can segment parts going in and out,” Yami explains, placing her arm up to mid-forearm inside a black pool in her other palm, the limb spawning out of the bleachers in front of Suguru, giving a little wave. “I can do it while moving so don’t have to stand still to do attacks.”

“Weird,” Sastoru laughed as Suguru poked the hand in front of him, earning a middle finger. “But very useful. Are there downsides to being in them for too long?”

“Yeah there is,” Yami says, pulling her arm back through the portal, dropping the liquid to the ground. “Vomiting is fairly normal, but today only some cuts and bruises. There's a lot of blades and hands in there and Kuchisake holds onto me very tightly.”

“That’s all damage from being in the portal?” Satoru pokes one of the bruising handprints. “She possessive like Rika?”

“Nothing possessive like Rika who gets jealous.” Yami laughs, smacking away his hand. “She’s very maternal and protective.”

“Did she do the …?” Satoru starts, making a slitting gesture to his face as they reach the bleachers.

“Satoru!” Suguru scolds, handing him a pair of dark sunglasses to put on.

Yami glances around, observing the student's reactions to them and seeing her face up close. Nanako and Mimiko look pale. Megumi, Maki, and Yuta all look shocked while Inumaki and Panda have their hands raised.

“Yes?” Yami asks the two boys.

“How wide can you open your mouth?” Panda blurts out, a “Tuna!” from Inumaki.

“Boys!” Suguru scolds as Satoru snorts, Shoko chuckling along as well.

“I would assume fairly wide since the muscles holding them to the normal range aren’t there anymore,” Yami teases. “Would you like to see?”

“Yes!” “Salmon!” The two boys respond.

“Have some self-control you two!” Suguru lectures, a small smile hidden under the mean-teacher lecture soon coming.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t want to see it either,” Satoru giggles, poking the other man in the face.

“Why don’t I heal you first then you can entertain all of whims?” Shoko cuts in, leaning into Yami.

“Yeah that’d be great actually,” Yami smiles, sitting down to be healed. “You already healed Satoru?”

“Yep!” Satoru grins, showing off his previously-cut hand. “That needle attack was a good hit.”

“She didn’t use all her moves,” Megumi adds, watching the bruising on Yami’s arms fade away.

“Did you not go all out?” Satoru snapped, turning immediately to Yami. “Is he right?”

“I did promise not to slice you up so yeah, kinda,” Yami says, sighing as the last of her cuts closes up. “I also did promise Yaga no property damage a while ago.”

“I’m at least grateful you didn’t slice him to bits,” Shoko sighs as Satoru squawks. “Makes less work for me.”

“I could have taken it!” Satoru whines.

“No, you couldn’t.” Megumi counters, Suguru chuckling.

"To make up for holding back on you, how bout I pay for dinner tonight?" Yami laughs. "We can discuss the techniques I withheld. I can pay back Suguru at the same time then for the head scare."

"That sounds great," Suguru says, Satoru quickly nodding in agreement before turning back to Megumi. "I do want to talk more about how all that works."

“I can do that. Do you two still want to see?” Yami asks the two boys watching the stare-down between Satoru and Megumi.

“Yes.”

a/n: Welcome to fighting against Yami! It's a lot more strategic hits than brute force like most of the other special grades. I cut a lot of writing from the fights as it was very repetitive. For reference of what Yami's mouth looks like under the mask is below.

[sixeyescurseuser]

Thinking about Dinosaur AU where Gojo is a rare breed of dino so he’s never met another one like him besides his mum - who he’s long been separated from.

Thus, when he comes across a dino that looks similar to him but in a different font, Gojo gets super curious.

So what better thing to do than to observe (in secrecy)?

Cue Dino Gojo hiding behind trees and crouching behind shrubs as he watches this other Dino walk around, eat, and interact with other creatures.

Except Gojo is quite large so he’s just sticking out of the bushes and the other Dino, Geto is like ??

Geto keeps munching on his leaves though cuz he’s hungry. He considers leaving some behind in case this rando dino is also hungry…

When Geto moves to walk away, Gojo trails behind like a smol, lost Dino.

Geto isn’t too pressed about it.

Until the third consecutive day.

In one moment, Gojo watches his new obsession walk across the field, and in the next moment the other Dino disappears!

How could Gojo have lost sight of him so quickly ?

Gojo wanders around around a bit, the tall grass tickling his under belly.

Until suddenly, the Dino he had been coincidentally tailing suddenly pops up in front of him.

Geto had crouched low in the grass and crawled to appear right in front of this Dino Gojo!

Geto makes a rumbly noise. What’s the big idea!? Why are you following me?

Gojo swivels his long neck to look to the side. I’m doing no such thing!

Geto narrows his eyes. He leans in close, so close their noses almost touch.

Gojo sniffs innocently, unmoving.

Why does this Dino have its eyes covered? This sure is a weird dino, Geto concludes.

With a warning growl, Geto turns around and starts walking away. Except ten steps away, he pauses.

Against his better judgement, Geto looks behind him.

The random Dino stays where it was, watching Geto, but upon seeing Geto look back, it sits its rump down and avoids Geto’s gaze.

Geto turns back and take ten more steps.

He looks back.

The other dino is the same distance away, still sat on its rump.

Another ten steps, another look back.

Gojo is even closer, somehow having managed to sneak in fifteen steps after Geto before sitting on his haunches.

Geto’s tail agitatedly swishes behind him. He seems to have picked himself up a stray.

Therefore, Gojo sticks around and Geto decidedly lets him.

Their first night together, they sleep at least five feet apart, large blobs curled into balls with their necks, tails, and limbs neatly tucked in.

Though with each coming night, the distance between them gets smaller, Gojo pushing to see how close he can lay next to Geto.

Gojo shows Geto his own ways of getting the most flavorful leaves, or shows how he likes to roll around in the grass.

This is the first time Gojo is sharing his methods of finding the best leaves. After witnessing Geto happily chew, Gojo decides that his favorite leaves taste best when shared.

They must make quite an image, walking side by side as two massive Dinos of the same rare Dino species.

When Geto feels their tails brush, he nearly freezes. He’s never touched tails with another Dino before…the sensation sends fuzzy vibrations all the way from the tip of this tail to the curve of his snout!

It’s very nice having a companion, he concludes.

But one morning, Geto wakes up alone, no Gojo in sight. He panics, thinking Gojo left him!

Geto makes wailing sounds to see if Gojo will came back. The sight of Gojo stomping back comes a few seconds later. Upon hearing Geto’s distressed noises, Gojo had immediately abandoned chasing butterflies to run back to his friend.

Gojo comes back and makes little whimpering noises. What happened! What’s wrong?

Geto just nuzzles against Gojo’s neck, which Gojo returns, albeit a bit confused.

After a long sigh, Geto meets Gojo’s eyes.

I thought you left me.

Gojo's nostrils flare.

No no no! I would never! Never! he expresses.

Geto still looks a bit worried, so Gojo nuzzles their noses together more insistently.

I promise, Gojo means.

Geto exhales in relief. He lets out a happy grunt, then nudges Gojo so they're laying down on the ground.

Geto rests his long neck along Gojo's back, igniting their first cuddle session.

Gojo falls asleep that night to the feeling of a warm body nestled against his own.

***

Both Dinos had to fight to survive. Especially when when they were young, they had accumulated many scars from fending off predators. Now that they’re older and bigger, most predators wont bother approaching them.

But sometimes, a bold, powerful dino will try its luck.

This is how a family of T-Rex find Gojo, alone, as he picks flowers for Geto.

The family quickly surrounds Gojo, who drops the flowers he had been collecting.

Gojo frantically turns in circles, anticipating for the first T-Rex to strike. He usually would’ve been more prepared because he would hear the T-Rex’s steps, but he had been lost in his own world, too focused on the flowers!

Gojo quickly deflects the first few attacks from the T-Rexes. But then, the flowers he had so carefully picked for Geto end up trampled underneath a T-Rex’s foot.

Upon seeing the crushed flowers, Gojo lets out an upset screech. A T-Rex swiftly claws Gojo’s leg, causing him to nearly lose balance and fall over-

Suddenly, a familiar blur of gray and yellow jumps in!

Geto is FURIOUS. HE’S WHIPPING HIS TAIL AND SWINGING HIS NECK AND KICKING HIS HIND LEGS!

HE STANDS IN FRONT OF GOJO AND TAKES ON ANYONE AIMING FOR HIS COMPANION!

Geto may end up with some scratches here and there, but he’ll do anything to protect what’s his!

Gojo quickly regains his footing and tag teams with Geto. After a ferocious battle, they eventually scare the T-Rexes off.

Gojo is ecstatic Geto came to help. He makes a happy yipping sound as he bounds over to Geto with impending zoomies.

But Geto has other plans. Instead, he herds Gojo a ways away, leading them up a hill and to a small burrow.

The flowers, Gojo thinks sadly…

But Geto doesn’t give him too much time to sulk.

With a grunt, Geto makes Gojo lay down as he inspects every part of Gojo, looking over the injuries.

Gojo paws at Geto’s face, rumbling in his chest.

I’m okay!

Geto lowers his head and bumps their noses together.

I was so worried.

Geto finally settles down next to Gojo, whose tail wags because he’s so, so warm.

Gojo leans his weight against Geto, content to feel the expanse of Geto’s rib cage expand and contract.

Thank you for helping me, he says with a chirp.

Geto huffs at that.

I will always help you. We’re together now.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

***

If anyone has links to other fanarts of those Dino Satosugu, I would very much appreciate them because I lost all of them 🥹

[thenx-fitness]

5 Powerful Push Ups to Boost Your Strength, Stamina, and Endurance

 What's up, Thenx athletes?

If you want to build more muscle and increase your pushing strength, then you need to start doing push-ups right now.

Push-ups are a great workout for your upper body, and they can be performed anywhere, anytime, and progressively compound your strength and endurance over time as you're able to do more push-ups consecutively in one set, which is why I do 100 push-ups pretty much every single day.

Now, of course, there are many different ways to do a push-up, from changing the tempo of your reps to changing how you do the push-up. And with each push-up variation, you're get different benefits, target different muscles, and even change the difficulty of the exercise.

So any fitness level from a complete beginner to the most advanced lifter will be challenged.

If you're ready to start making gains from home or from anywhere without any equipment, let's get this workout started.

Regular push ups.

The most common type of push up is the regular push up, which is performed with the hands shoulder width apart and the feet together. This position means that your body should be completely straight, with your head aligned with your spine. You'll want to keep a slight bend in your elbows as you lift yourself off the floor so that they don't touch at any point during this exercise.

The key word here is "slight." Regular push ups can be done anywhere from two to ten repetitions per set depending on how hard you want to get it done!

Wide Push-Ups

Wide push ups are a variation of the push up, and it's an exercise you can do anywhere.

You start in a plank position with your hands under your shoulders and feet together (or slightly apart). Your body should form a straight line from neck to ankles.

Perform this movement by bringing your chest up toward the ceiling while keeping your core engaged so that nothing shifts or sways as you raise yourself off the ground. Repeat this motion until failure occurs—you should feel like you're about to fall over!

To make sure that all parts of your body are working equally hard during this exercise, pause briefly at the top before lowering yourself back down again so that both sides have equal attention being paid to them throughout their duration."

Diamond Push-Ups

The Diamond Push-Up is a great way to start off your push up routine. This exercise involves forming a diamond shape with your hands and keeping your back straight, so you can focus on form rather than muscle fatigue. If you're looking for an easy way to get started with push ups, this may be the one for you!

Start in the top position of a regular push up (arms extended).

Inhale deeply as you lower down until your chest touches the floor; exhale as you raise yourself back up again by pushing through each of your heels while also squeezing those glutes hard!

Keep both elbows out at all times during this movement—don't let them cave inward or lock themselves into place anywhere along the way either!

You should feel tension building between each repetition until it occurs naturally without effort at all; if not then try doing them again but this time pushing harder against gravity instead of letting gravity pull towards Earth's surface below us...

Decline Push-Ups

Use a bench or chair, keeping your feet on the     floor.

Keep your hands on the bench for balance and     support.

Make sure your arms are straight (not bent at     the elbows).

Push up, lower down, repeat!

Clap Push-Ups

Clap push-ups are a full-body exercise that targets your chest, shoulders and triceps. They can also help build up your upper body strength and endurance by increasing the amount of muscle mass in your shoulders and arms.

If you're new to doing clap push-ups or haven't tried them before but want to give it a go, start with these tips:

Start off with just one hand on the ground while holding onto something stable (like a wall) with the other hand so that you don't fall over when performing these exercises correctly!

Make sure not to bring any weight down on yourself either!

You should feel like your knees are touching each other as well as being able to do this without holding onto anything else outside of what might be needed for balance purposes while doing them correctly; if not then try again until they do :)

The Bottom Line:

Push ups are a great exercise to do at home or in the gym. They work your arms and core, which makes them a great addition to any workout routine. There are many types of push ups you can try, but not all of them will work for every body type or fitness level.

For more information and check out effective bodyweight workouts without any equipment or gym, download Thenx app now for

iOS

and

Android

. Or you can visit this

YouTube link

.

[behardonyourself]

The Wildest Month

Although I’ve been in the midst of training for Ironman Waco and Waco 70.3, I haven’t allowed myself to shy away from challenges. In fact, I decided to test myself more over a one month period mere weeks out of my back to back races.

It all started on August 8th, 2022.  I was, quite frankly, bored with the regular progressive training of Ironman.  So, I decided to push it and set out to run a marathon in peak, August in Texas heat of 111 degrees.

At the marathon mark, I was feeling great, and thought “why not go 5 more miles and hit a 50km?” and after just 3 hours and 55 minutes, I finished 31.1 miles.

While I was proud of what I had done (this was the furthest that I had run in nearly two years), the thought was in my mind: What have I been leaving on the table?

That haunting idea lingered in my head for a few days - until that following Sunday.  I decided that I needed to really test myself and run 100 miles.  No crowds, no medals, no trophies - just me and Texas.  

So on August 18, I woke up at 2:30am and set out.

I actually Live-Tweeted it.

Through Texas heat, torrential downpour, excruciating blisters, chaffing, a broken foot and a lot of suffering, I kept my commitment to myself and finished the 100 miles in 25 hours (the first 76.5 miles took only 15 hours - and then I took my shoes off - the last 23.5 took 10 hours).  

Fortunately, my friends Chris and Brian showed up to help get me through those last excruciating miles.

While my feet were decimated, I was happy to have finally put myself into the crucible once more and force myself to push beyond my known capabilities.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Ten days later, I though to myself “Why don’t I just do an Ironman as well?”

And just 13 days after the 100 mile run on August 31st, I was at the pool at 5am, ready to do a self-staffed full Ironman.  Except I swam 3.6 miles instead of just 2.4.  Due to storms, I was forced to do the ride on my indoor bike trainer.  I had forgotten that the AC repair guy was coming that day, so there I was, 6 hours on the bike trainer, upstairs in my house where the thermostat read 91 degrees (which is like 200 outside).  

Shortly into the 26.2 mile run I realized how terrible of an idea this was and how bad my feet were busted, but I pushed on.  Even with oozing blisters and throbbing feet, I still finished the marathon portion in 4 hours.  

I also Live-Tweeted the Ironman as well.

So a 100 mile run and an Ironman+ in 13 days.  Considering that less than 4 years ago I couldn’t run 1/4 of a mile, you’d think I’d be satisfied.  

Not quite.

After about a week and a half, I was reading through Twitter and noticed how nearly every person on Fitness Twitter pretends to live like a month.  Actually, they make it seem like it’s required to do anything substantial.

Well, I’m a bit of a fuck up, so I began to wonder how degenerate I could be and still do something physically exerting.  That’s when I hatched the idea to run a marathon and simultaneously drink at least one case (24) of beer.  

Oh, and I live tweeted the disaster on September 13th.

While it was obviously one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done, I did manage to drink over 30 beers and run a marathon.  While I don’t remember much of it, I think I proved the point that fitness doesn’t require you to live like a saint or be perfect.  

If I didn’t get that point across, I still had a lot of fucking fun.

Now, here I am 17 days out of Waco, where I’ll be doing the full and half Ironman on consecutive days as the Gold Star Initiative representative, where I’ll be carrying full sized American flags on the run portions of each race to give to families of fallen military members at each respective finish line.

After that?  I don’t know for sure.  But I do know this - I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what is possible for me, and I know that if I can do some of these things, absolutely anyone can.  We are capable of more than we know.

Keep moving forward, gang.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[calpalirwin]

Tranquil Waters

Summary: Bucky finds peace at the aquarium.

A/N: A gift for @jessalyn-jpeg, that was also beta read by her.

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

Even with a plain, battered ball cap covering up hair that brushed along the tops of his shoulders, as if he was hoping it would somehow make him inconspicuous, you took notice of him. After all, how many men came alone to an aquarium? How many still could be transfixed by the shark exhibit for hours, sitting on a bench looking up at the tunnel, or leaned against the railing as he peered into the lagoon below? And how many of those men would return day after day, no matter how long he had watched the sharks the day before?

“You know we have a membership,” you told him on his eighth consecutive visit. “Probably cheaper at this point.”

He didn’t say a word, just tilted his head slightly to the side in confusion.

“I mean, if you’re here every day. Might as well. Save yourself a few bucks.”

“Oh,” he said, clearly startled that anyone had picked up on his habit. “Uh…”

“It’s a hundred for the year. Unlimited visits. Come as little as five times a year, and it pays for itself. Come more often than that, and it’s a steal.”

“Is there a payment plan option? I’m uh… it’s weird to explain. I have the money. It’s just a…”

“Budget thing?” you guessed. “Totally get it. Yeah, we have payment options. I can have today’s ticket count towards the pass if you like. Then the bill is monthly, but you can pay it off sooner if you like.”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great,” he said, giving you a small smile, and laying a twenty dollar bill down.

You pulled open the little drawer that held the passes, selecting one that specifically had sharks on it for him, before scanning it into working order. “Here you are,” you said, handing it over along with his receipt.

“Thanks,” he nodded, turning the card over his hand, the smile still rooted in place. “Sharks, cool. Thanks again…” his eyes flickered down to read your name tag, “Y/N.”

“Enjoy your visit.”

It came as no surprise to you that, after he nodded politely at you again, he headed straight to the shark exhibit. It also came as no surprise to you that he was still there when you made your rounds to clear the aquarium of visitors for the night.

“Sir, we’re closing in ten minutes. So if you wouldn’t mind making your way towards the exit.”

“Oh, is it that time already?” he asked, rising slowly from the bench. You took notice as he stretched out his right arm, but didn’t feel the need to do so with his left.

“Unfortunate, I know. See you tomorrow, sir.”

“Bucky,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“My name. It’s Bucky.”

“See you tomorrow, Bucky.”

“See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

~~~

Four more days of visits, each started with Bucky handing you a twenty dollar bill to put towards his pass, and ending with the two of you bidding each other farewell until the morning.

On the fifth day, out of habit, he walked up to your window, the twenty dollar bill already in hand. “Oh, you’re all paid off, Bucky.”

“Oh… Right… Sorry, force of habit.” His cheeks flushed a soft color of pink. “See you later I guess.”

“Send the sharks my love.”

“Will do.”

As you watched him walk off, you caught sight of the stack of flyers beside you. “Wait!” you called out to him, grabbing one of the flyers.

“Hmm?” he asked, coming back to your window.

“Here,” you said, sliding him the flyer. “We’re hosting a lecture on shark migrating habits.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Is it soon? I haven’t seen anything put up about it.”

“No, it’s happening next month. We just got the flyers this morning. Figured you’d want to know though.”

“Well, thanks for the heads up.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Bucky turned to go visit the sharks, but at the last second he turned back around, a shy look on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be going to this would you?”

“I am, yeah. I got lucky in that they scheduled it after aquarium hours.”

“Cool… Would you maybe want to go together?”

“As a date?” you asked suggestively.

“Or as two people who share an appreciation for sharks? Whichever reason gets you to say yes.”

You gave a small laugh. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

~~~

Even though you’d seen Bucky daily for nearly two months, you still felt shy flutters in your stomach as you raced to change out of your work polo and khakis, and into something that felt more “first date” appropriate.

When you got back to the aquarium, you spotted Bucky outside waiting, sporting a long-sleeved red henley shirt, and surprisingly no baseball cap. “Hey, Bucky,” you greeted, walking up to him.

“Hey,” he said softly, a hand digging into the pocket of his jeans. “I was going to bring you flowers, but I thought that’d be awkward for you to carry around all night. So, I hope this is an okay replacement.” He took his hand out of his pocket, unfurling his hand to reveal a shark pin resting in his palm, no doubt something he picked out in the gift shop.

“It’s perfect,” you laughed, stretching up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth that flooded his face. “Thank you.”

“Course,” he mumbled, trying to undo the pin with only his right hand. But undoing the pin without using his left hand proved to be difficult.

“Um, it might be easier without the gloves?” you suggested. “Or maybe if you used both hands?”

“Oh, to hell with it,” Bucky grumbled, taking the fingers of his left glove into his mouth, tugging it off to reveal a metal hand. Swiftly, he also took off his right glove, and got the pin undone.

“Wh-what happened?” you questioned as he attached the pin to your blouse, paying special care not to knick you with it.

“War accident,” he answered shortly, quickly putting his gloves back on.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could think to say.

“It was years ago,” he offered as a way of explanation, before jerking his chin in the direction of the aquarium doors. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm through his right arm when he offered it to you, walking into the aquarium and following the small crowd to the theater where the lecture was being held.

Quietly, you and Bucky sat side by side, his hand resting on your thigh as you both listened to the lecture. It was easy to tell when the lecturer said something that Bucky found particularly interesting because his fingers would squeeze into your leg. And anytime you stole a glance, his eyes were shining brightly, a soft smile on his lips. And anytime he caught you staring at him, he’d give you a small wink.

“The aquarium is so different after hours,” Bucky commented, making conversation as you walked out, hand-in-hand after the lecture. “More peaceful somehow.”

“Is that why you like the shark exhibit? It’s usually our quietest area. Certainly less crowded.”

“Nah, I like sharks because they’re misunderstood. Everyone thinks they’re killers. But, they’re just doing what they need to do to survive.”

“Something you can relate to?”

“More than I’d like to, that’s for sure.”

You looked around at all the guests flocking for the exits, an idea forming in your head. “You wanna see something really cool?”

“What’s this really cool thing?” he asked as he let you pull him away from the crowd of people and deeper into the aquarium. His excitement however died down significantly when you pulled him into the security office. “This was the really cool thing?” he asked skeptically.

“Shh,” you said, fixing your focus on the cameras, watching the aquarium empty. “Just wait.”

With a sigh, Bucky watched the monitors with you.

“Annnnd, tada!” you announced as there was a loud sound of the lights shutting off in the building with the exclusion of the security room.

“We’re alone in the aquarium?” he questioned with the same note of skepticism as earlier.

You grinned up at him, nodding. “We’re alone in the aquarium.”

“Can’t we get in trouble for trespassing?”

You pulled your work badge out of your purse, along with a set of keys. “Nope!”

Bucky gave a soft chuckle. “You’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?”

“You wanna go see the sharks or not?”

“Lead the way.”

~~~

“So,” you started, your voice quiet as you both leaned against the railing, watching the sharks swim in the lagoon below. “Is you liking sharks because you can relate to being misunderstood related to your hand at all?”

“A little. And it’s not my hand. It’s my entire arm.”

“Your entire arm?!” you screeched, turning sideways to look at him fully.

He sighed, turning towards you. He pushed the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow, and pulled at the collar of his shirt to show you how the metal went all the way from fingertips to shoulder. “Yup.”

“Bucky,” you said to yourself. “As in?”

“As in the former Winter Soldier. Yup. Or as in James Buchanan Barnes, but people nowadays tend to not remember that part.”

“Holy shit… Wait. So you’re a fuckin’ Avenger, and you tell me that you spend your free time coming to watch sharks all day?”

“Well, sharks were originally the reason. Now, they’re just an additional perk.”

“I’m not following…”

“Well, I like sharks. Always have even before I could relate to them. But then I got a crush on one of the workers. And as much as I like to think I’m still here for the sharks, I’m also here for her.”

“Oh, you mean me?!”

“I mean I did ask you out on a date.”

“So you admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That this is a date.”

“What else would you call it?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe two people who share an appreciation for sharks?” you teased.

Bucky laughed. “Alright. In my defense, I said that to make you not feel bad if you told me no.”

“What made you think I was gonna say no?”

“I’m me. The 100 year old with an extremely complicated past.”

“Mmm, then maybe I should let you in on a secret.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that Miss Troublemaker?”

“I have a soft spot for the misunderstood.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Saying things like that are gonna make me want to kiss you.”

“Saying things like what? Things that suggest I’m just as interested in you as you are in me?”

“Yes.”

“And what if that’s what I wanted? For you to kiss me?”

“Then I’d have to do this.” He stepped forward, his hands gently cradling your face as his head ducked down. You stretched upwards on the tips of your toes, meeting his lips halfway. Underlying the softness of the kiss was a strength you wanted more of. Somehow sensing that want, Bucky deepened the kiss, one hand moving to cup the back of your neck, the other dropping down to rest on the small of your back, pulling you in closer to him.

“That was one hell of a first date kiss,” you gasped when you broke apart, each of you breathless.

“You’re one hell of a girl,” he said, nudging your nose with his and drawing you back in for another kiss.

__

Tag List

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[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Favorite Human

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: McCall!Pack x reader (platonic) Word count: 2.8k Summary: It’s Malia who first smells it - the bitter scent that had started to Infiltrate yours - and she, Lyida and Kira decide to find out what was wrong with you...  Warning: Nothing too much really, but it’s slightly Angsty I guess. Also the feels Requested by the amazing, patient and great anon: Hi~,Teen Wolf person again. Can i request a pack image where the reader is hiding something for the pack and the pack are all sort of catching on to it like chemosignals and behaviour. Eventually they kinda piece the bits together and figure it out. they all try to comfort you and help you get better. Something just along those lines.(They could be hiding selfharm stuff, family stuff or they like someone in the group or yeah, you can pick what your comfort writing for) Thank you have a nice day~

The California sun was beating down on Beacon Hills and its inhabitants, a feeling of peace and calm that was - by now - almost foreign in the city laid in the air and prompted the resident teenagers and young adults to enjoy a day away from school, stress and (for a very special group) life threatening situations. This particular group - the McCall pack, as they were known in the supernatural community of the city - decided to spend their free time on a very nice, but fairly unknown clearing in the beacon hill woods and for once being surrounded by these trees didn’t give them the vibe that one of them could probably die at any given moment. It was a rather nice change. “Uno,” Liam smiled as he slapped a +4 card onto the floor, making Mason groan and throw his head back. It was the third time in a row that Liam was winning and while it seemed to leave you completely cold it annoyed Mason to no end, but he couldn’t stop playing either until either you or him finally beat the wolf. While the three of you were sitting in your game circle, Malia, Lydia and Kira were lounging on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun and having their conversation. The only one who was sitting on the grass like a lost puppy was Stiles, phone in hand but seemingly not having the attention span to focus on it for more than five consecutive seconds. Originally he and Scott had been sitting there together talking about Lacrosse or girls or whatever the two of them talked about when they weren’t planning to save the city, but Scott had - after lots of pleading and begging on his betas part - disappeared into the direction of the city to buy some ice cream for everyone. “Y/N?” Liam shocked your shoulder and you had to shake your head to come back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Yes?” you looked at him with wide doe-eyes full of confusion. “It’s your turn.” “Oh, right, sorry, just lost in thoughts,” you smiled apologetically and shrugged before turning to your cards to think about your next move, not noticing how Liam and Mason exchanged a look. They had started to notice the change in your behaviour only recently. Your usual very cheery, always-seeing-the-best-in-everyone-and-everything self started to be stuck in your thoughts more often and your smile seemed just a little bit off lately. “Here you go,” you looked up again and put a +2 in front of Liam earning a quiet ‘Yessss’ from Mason at the prospect of finally beating his best friend, only to be sorely disappointed when a smirk immediately filled Liam’s face as he victoriously added his own - last - +2 card onto the pile, effectively winning the game and starting a rather useless discussion about whether the fact that the makers of Uno stated that putting a +2 on another +2 and making it a +4 wasn’t allowed counted anything. While Mason and Liam kept on blickering you pulled yourself up from the grass-floor and wandered over to the girls who welcomed you with kind smiles and made space for you on the blanket. As you sank down you were immediately pulled into Malias lap who hugged you into her and pressed her nose into your neck and y/h/l hair to smell you - a habit of hers that you had at first found more than disturbing but by now had gotten used to. In fact, the more time you spent with your not-quite-human friends and acquaintances, the more you noticed that they all had their own little versions of that, even though with Malia it was the most extreme since she was still the one running mostly on her basic instincts. At least that’s how Stiles explained it to you. He said that since you were logically seen the most vulnerable and ‘weak’ member of the pack their natural instincts where to protect and shield you from all dangers and make sure you are alright and - after your initial reaction of punching the hell out of Stiles’ shoulder in order to show him just how not-weak you were - you started registering it more and more. It was mostly very little things with Scott, Liam, Derek and in some situations (even though rarely) Peter like little hugs and giving you their clothes to scent you, pushing themselves in front of you in the face of even the most harmless of situations or the way they just sometimes randomly turned up at your house (this was mostly Scott, Liam and Malia though) to check if you’re okay even if they could just call. With Malia it was all that, but times ten in intensitivity. And the smelling. Malia herself wasn’t quite sure why, but she simply loved your natural scent. It always managed to calm her down. So you got used to her randomly smelling at you even if it did weird you out from time to time. Usually she would pull back after a few seconds, give you a happy smile and get back to what she was doing before like nothing happened, but this time when she drew back she looked at you displeased and confused. “Is something the matter?” you asked just as confused and now the other girls, who had gotten used to Malias antics and taken on the habit of just completely ignoring it in order not to get growled at, got curious as well and turned their attention towards you. “Something’s off,” Malia grumbled and scrunched her nose like she’s smelt something rotten. “Oi!” you scoffed and moved back a little, feign being offended, “Are you telling me I stink?” “No,” Malia sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not that, it’s just...your scent is- I don’t know how to put it really. Bitter? I think?” “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, her interest now seemingly spiked. “‘M not sure,” Malia shrugged and moved forward to take another good sniff at your hair, only for you to move your head back out of her reach and put your hands on her shoulders to keep her a distance away from you. “I think that’s quite enough,” you chuckled, but it sounded mechanical almost, “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t really think me smelling bitter means anything.” Noticing the way you held yourself defensive, something that you almost never did, all three of the girls wanted to investigate further, but you quickly moved off of Malia’s lap and stood up. “Oh look, there’s our ice cream,” you smiled as if nothing was happening and jogged over to your Alpha to help him. “This was weird, right? She’s acting weird, isn’t she?” Kira questioned and looked between the other two girls who nodded, “What’s that about?” “Not sure, but we gotta find out before the boys notice anything. Malia is bad enough already, but if the male wolfies find out we’ll have a real problem on our hands,” Lydia sighed and inspected you from afar. 

After then the three of them noticed it far more often, the way you held yourself changed and your smile seemed to lessen by the day. By the time you started to fold into yourself and Malia said that your smell was getting more bitter, to the extent that she could smell it above almost everything else surrounding you, they knew that it had gotten out of their hands. They had to involve the others as much as they dreaded their reactions. As they had predicted Scott, Liam and - surprisingly enough for a human - Stiles didn’t react kindly to it, immediately planning to confront you. But in a turn of events, their thirst for actions and the girls rational thinking evened each other out and they decided on an approach that was reluctant enough to not scare you away, while also - hopefully - pushing you to tell them what was wrong. They wanted to do it in an environment that you felt comfortable in so they decided to go to your place, but that meant that they couldn’t all come, since they didn’t want to overwhelm you either. So, after a long and exhausting discussion, they decided that Stiles would be the one who’d go in first to make sure everything was clear and then give the others a heads up to follow. The Pack was standing - as inconspicuous as it was possible for a group of five - on the other side of the street your house was in as Stiles was walking down your driveway, welcomed by a cute door plate that had obviously been made my a little child and he was pretty safe in his assumption that you had been the one who had made it when you were younger. After taking a breath of reassurance Stiles raised his hand and knocked on the door. You must have been near the door already, because not even ten second later the door was tipped open and you stared at him with tired eyes, in your alien Pajamas with messy hair. If Stiles had not known better he would have assumed you had tried to sleep. “Who is it Honey?” He heard the voice of your mother scream, but the usual sweet voice he was used to hearing from her was strained and mixed with annoyance. “Uhm...It’s Stiles! My friend from school, he was here last month to study for my english exam, you remember?” “Oh, yes,” your mother walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “Hello Stiles.” Stiles returned the greeting, but his thoughts were more occupied by the state of your mother. Her hair looked unwashed and even more messy than yours, obviously not because of sleep, but rather because she hadn’t brushed it in a while, there were red stains under her eyes, the skin around it dry and strained, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she must have cried - a lot - and her blouse was wrinkled, which he knew from their previous meetings and what you had told him about her would usually be a no-go for her. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she smiled, but it was tight-lipped and obviously forced, but before she disappeared into the kitchen again she looked at you, “Y/N, make it fast please.” You just nodded and turned back to Stiles. “Hey,” he said again, a little bit uncertain now, the situation having thrown him off of the plan he had made in his head on the way from the pack to the door. “Hi,” you said and he had to admit that you were definitely your mothers daughter by the way your forced smile perfectly resembled hers. “I wanted to talk to you, uhm, we - I mean me and the pack by that, well it started with Lydia, Malia and Kira, but anyways - we noticed that you’ve been...how do I put this correctly- well, I guess you’ve been off more lately and so we’ve been worried, because usually you smile a lot and you always make unfunny jokes and all that and now you don’t so-” Stiles rambled and just let everything flow out at once, probably would have continued to do so if you hadn’t held up your hand to stop him. “Not-Not here, okay? I’ll answer your questions, but not here. Let’s take this outside, please,” you shut Stiles up and took his arm to lead him out of your house and onto your porch where you sat down on the stairs leading onto your front law. For a while there was silence as Stiles found himself unsure of what to do next, but he could basically feel the piercing stares of his friends on him. After a few seconds of contemplating he sat down beside you, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelming. “So…” “Yeah, so…” “Why...have you been so off?” Stiles asked but honestly couldn’t help but cringe a bit at how completely un-smooth he sounded. “I- It’s-” you tried multiple approaches, but stopped yourself every time, only to sink your face into your hands and sigh, “I’m sorry.” You raised your face again and looked at Stiles and he could see the sadness, this slight sense of despair. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t rush yourself,” Stiles tried to comfort you, “If you can’t tell me that’s okay, we’re just all very worried about you. We want to make sure that you’re okay.” “No, it’s fine, I- I think I actually wanted to tell you all for a while, but- I don’t really know, it’s just been hard for me… My parent’s have been going through some rough patches for the last few months and now my dad - he,” you stopped again and hugged your arms around you, Stiles couldn’t help but notice the glistening of tears in your eyes, “-He moved out two weeks ago. I mean, sure there were signs, it wasn’t working well by all means, but moving out? That was pretty shocking for my mom and me.” By now the tears had started rolling down your face and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved closer to you and laid his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. It seemed that the pack couldn’t hold back anymore either, because only a few seconds either Lydia was kneeling in front of you holding your hands, the rest also finding positions around you - hoping to give you as much comfort as possible. You gave them a wet chuckle, even though your tears didn’t stop flowing. “I could’ve guessed that you’re not far. I’m sorry for being a mess.” “No, Don’t ever be sorry for feeling. We love you and that means that we’ll be there for you through the bad times just as we are in the good times,” Scott assured you and lovingly petted your head even though he knew that you always complained about how it made you feel like a little child or a puppy. “Thank you guys for being here - it’s just a lot right now. My mom is expecting me to be on her side, while my dad keeps expecting me to decide about where I’m going to live now. He wants me to move with him to New York into the city he grew up in, but I don't want to leave Beacon Hills. I have my whole life here, my school, you guys, my mom, literally everything, but I also don’t want to lose him- It’s just, I feel so torn and it seems like every choice I could take would be the wrong one,” you were full on sobbing at that point, but it was clear enough for your friends to understand you. “Hey, It’s okay,” Lydia tried to calm you down, “I know that this seems like an impossible choice, but I can assure you we will find a way. We’ve defeated some of the greatest evils that the world has seen and we were successful. We’ll be just as successful with this, okay?” You started nodding and for the first time in a while you were actually feeling just a little bit like yourself again, a sliver of home filling your heart at all your friends who were by your side and supporting you. “Lydia’s right,” Scott agreed. “There’s one thing I gotta ask though,” Liam started and before anyone else with a little more sense of sensibility could stop him asked: “Why didn’t you tell us before? I mean we’re you’re best friends ri-” At that moment Mason basically threw himself at him and put his hand in front of his mouth to shut him up. “You don’t have to answer that,” Kira assured you, but you just shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I get why he asked. I- I guess I just thought - it’s like Lydia said, we fight evil on a weekly base, we have to worry about so much more serious things than my stupid family drama.” “Now listen to me,” Lydia spoke up in her I-will-take-no-talkbacks-voice and looked at your sternly, “This is not stupid and it is by no means less imporant than anything else we do, okay? Maybe it’s not life-threatening or supernatural, but it is still hurting you and as friends we can’t let anything hurt our favorite human, can we now?” And in that moment everything was okay again - if only for just a few seconds - with your friends by your side and Stiles yelp of protest, because he insisted that he was at least Scott’s favorite human, - earning himself a look from Scott that told him that what Lydia said also applied to him - even made you laugh your normal laugh again. And so, when Malia finally got close enough to you with all your friends surrounding you to smell your scent, she found that your normal, sweet scent was finally returning again, and even though there was still a bitter undertone to it she now was sure that it would soon be back to her favorite scent again.

[novoaa1writes]

honest

pairing(s): daisy johnson x nb!reader, melinda may & nb!reader (familial)

summary:

coming out is never easy—even when you’ve got reliable people in corner.

contains: angst & fluff with happy ending

(also available on ao3.)

word count: ~2,000

rating: teen

warnings: sparring, self-doubt; anxiety (not chronic); muscle pains, bruises, and aches (from exertion); mild language; coming out; discussions of gender and sexuality

notes: 

in my head, this is staged at the playground somewhere in season 2-3ish of marvel’s agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

— —

disclaimer: this is in no way reflective of the experiences of all non-binary individuals everywhere. as someone who’s recently had the realization that i am Not Woman and Not Man and has been subsequently made to have some rather difficult conversations with those closest to me about changing up pronouns, this is simply based off of my own experience and struggles with my gender / sexuality. it’s a uniquely personal thing to come to terms with, and it’s different for everyone.

feel free to message me if you’d like to talk about it!

— —

You let out a long, slow breath, eyeing yourself critically in the bathroom mirror. 

Nervous eyes, shower-damp skin, lower lip swollen and puffy from biting it relentlessly—an obtrusive testament to the overwhelming abundance of unease ballooning in your chest.

Yeah. Seems about right. 

“C’mon, Y/N,” you grumble, taking great care to pitch your voice well below the hum of the fan overhead. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

The more insistent you become, the less you believe it. 

“It’s just Daisy,” you continue, silently willing yourself to remain undeterred by the crushing doubt that gnaws away at your insides. “She’ll understand.” 

... But will she?

You frown at your reflection, skin prickling with frustration. “And if she doesn’t…” you trail off, hating the quiver in your voice for betraying your weakness. “If she doesn’t, then you shouldn’t be with her anyways.” Your voice comes out stronger this time, even if the words themselves are enough to scare you shitless. 

You like Daisy. Could grow to love her, even. 

Being with her… it’s made you the happiest you’ve ever been in your entire life, and damn it all, but you mean that. 

“She’s going to understand,” you say aloud. “She will.”

God, you pray that that’s true. 

— —

7:00am sees you getting your ass thrown violently all across the mats by an ever-indomitable Melinda May, racking up bruises and scratches and aches like no one’s business. 

By the time 9:00am hits, you’re a wheezing mess, sprawled spread-eagled atop the sparring mats—lungs on fire, chest heaving for breath; sweat-drenched skin littered with technicolored bruising.

In short, it’s hellish. 

“C’mon,” May urges, tone curt and even. She looms imposingly down upon you from above, a decidedly unamused expression gracing her elegant features—and, get this: not a single hair out of place, nor a hint of labored breathing. 

You groan and squint up at her, searching for—

A-ha!

There, just above one immaculately-manicured brow and, like, two millimeters beneath her hairline—a tiny little droplet of perspiration. As you watch, it seems to absorb itself into her flawless skin—disappearing before your eyes like it was never even there. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you grumble. 

May just raises a single brow, offering you a hand up. “Up.”

You frown at her but don’t push your luck; rather, you accept the proffered hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. Your arms and legs and abdominal muscles all scream in protest as you lurch upright into a flat-footed stance, but you grit your teeth and bear it. 

Training with May—torturous (and often humiliating) as it may be—is voluntary. Something you chose, and continue to choose even despite the unadulterated hell it puts your body through with every swift kick and bone-jarring punch.

Not only that, you’re lucky to study opposite someone as fearless, skilled, and fucking terrifying as Melinda May. 

Even when your limbs are all ache-y and sore and burning with a pain beyond your years, you know that. 

Still… 

You probably could’ve done without this today. After all, getting your ass kicked for a solid two hours all across the mats doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. And, considering the conversation you plan to have with Daisy this afternoon, you’re gonna need to muster up all the confidence you can get. 

— —

“Spit it out,” May prompts, sidling up to match you stride for stride as you take a couple cool-down laps around the miniature track (¼ the size of a regulation model)... walking, that is. Not jogging. 

Honestly, you think that if you even tried jogging right now, you’d pass out. 

You spare her a sidelong glance as the two of you round the bend, perfectly in sync. “What?” 

May purses her lips, giving you a look. “You were sloppy today,” she remarks pointedly. “Distracted.” 

Her stare seems to burn holes through the side of your head. 

“Wow, thanks,” you mumble. The sardonic quip tastes funny coming off your tongue.

“You were off today,” May reiterates, sidestepping your wisecrack entirely. Her footsteps are soundless even as the soles of your beat-up Air Force Ones slap the tread audibly with every stride. “That doesn’t happen often.”

“Sure it does.” You shrug. “You kicked my ass today, same as always. If you ask me—” You hesitate briefly at the look on May’s face, which is plainly screaming ‘I didn’t’ “—today’s been anything but out of the ordinary.” 

“You’re a terrible liar,” May remarks without missing a beat. It’s like she didn’t even hear you (which you damn well know that she did). 

Still, you don’t do her the disservice of arguing the point any further. 

You walk another ten paces in perfect silence—no, twelve. You know because you count each one. 

Unsurprisingly, you’re first to break the immersive quiet. “I think I want to tell Daisy.”

May’s impartial expression doesn’t change. “About?”

You almost roll your eyes, but manage to curb the impulse at the very last second. “You know what about.”

Hell, May was the first person you told. You came to her quarters hyperventilating in the dead of night, tears streaming down both cheeks and a sense of such deep-seated discomfort swelling in your chest, your ribs positively ached with the force of it.

“I want to hear you say it.”

You bite your lower lip, apprehension gnawing at your insides. “About…” You trail off, internally scolding yourself. This shouldn’t be so fucking hard. “About me being… non-binary.” 

Non-binary. 

What a flimsy little term. So matter-of-fact… almost scientific in nature. And yet, the way it affects you is nothing short of visceral—all-encompassing and monstrous, compressing your very lungs in an iron-clad vice until it’s agony to draw breath. 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts ; voicing this simple reality that’s plagued you since you were very small, looming malignantly in the margins of everything you do… and yet, the truth of it rings keen and strong in your ears—clear as a bell.  

It’s liberating and frightful all in one; a grating juxtaposition, to be clear.

“Yes.” The sound of May’s uncharacteristically gentle intonation cuts clean through the blaring noise in your head, yanking you out from a sea of inner turmoil with startling decision. “I’m proud of you.”

Her words—gently-spoken as they may be—hit you like consecutive sucker punches to the gut. “What?” you choke, forcing out a breathless chuckle. 

May—predictably—is staunch, unyielding… wholly undeterred. “You’re being true to yourself,” she insists, matching you step for step as you start in on lap two. Your chest burns something awful and your legs aren’t much better, but you pay it little mind. “That’s no small thing.”

“It’s terrifying,” you tell her. As far as you’re concerned, that’s something of an understatement.

She nods. “It often is.”

“What if… What if I tell her and she doesn’t like me anymore?”

May raises a single brow. “Daisy, a known bisexual who has stated on more than one occasion that the gender binary is ‘stupid’ and ‘exclusionary’? Daisy, who’s been on dates with more than one openly non-binary person in the past?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” 

May—bless her heart—doesn’t snort or sigh or roll her eyes, but you can tell it’s not for lack of wanting. Instead, she merely slants you a pointed look that says, ‘Exactly.’

You walk the next six strides in silence, your feet aching in your shoes.  

“I’m going to tell her,” you say eventually, a tinge of cautious certainty creeping into your tone. You don’t know who you’re trying to convince—yourself, or May. 

All the same, May is nothing if not steady and dependable amidst stormy seas; she always knows just what to say. (Or, what not to say, as it were.) 

There are no tears, no hugs, no flowery platitudes… nothing but a sharp nod of approval and the barest hint of a grin curving her lips, like she sees you for who you are and she approves—like she’s proud, even. You don’t know how else to translate the tender mercy in her eyes, the way it seems to warm you from the inside out. 

Yeah, you can tell Daisy. 

You’re going to tell Daisy. 

And May’s gonna be right there beside you the whole time.

— —

In retrospect, you definitely could’ve gone about this better. 

Like, you weren’t exactly going for the kind of heartfelt reconciliation you’d see in some coming-of-age sap-fest movie on the big screen; and it’s not as though there’s an exact script to follow for all this, but… 

Pulling away from a decidedly heated kiss to blurt out, “I’m not a woman”—and doing so while you’re half-naked and straddling the lap of a similarly scantily-clad Daisy in bed, no less—definitely hadn’t been your first choice. 

Judging by the expression on Daisy’s pretty features—which is caught somewhere between taken aback and genuinely concerned—she’s coming to the same conclusion.  

To her credit, though, she recovers quickly—though the crease between her brows (a testament to her lingering bewilderment) remains. “What?”

You swallow thickly, carding your fingers through her tousled hair—a nervous habit of yours you’d developed as of late. “I’m…” You sigh, apprehension building in your chest. “I’m not a woman.”

Daisy’s brows raise marginally even as she offers a shallow nod, wide attentive eyes steadfastly holding yours. “Okay…” she begins gently, rubbing circles into the bare skin above your left hipbone with a callused thumb—a subtle nudge for you to continue. 

“I just—I don’t feel like a woman,” you say, and this time it’s easier, even if the sheer measure of honesty in that statement is enough to make your stomach turn. “And I don’t feel like a man, either.”

Understanding flares in Daisy’s pretty brown eyes. “Okay,” she says again. “So, you’re not a woman…” She pauses, dipping her head to place a feather-light kiss upon your shoulder. “And you’re not a man,” she continues, lifting her jaw to study you face-to-face, the tip of her pert nose brushing up against your own. “Which means… ?”

“I’m, um,” you squirm a bit, shifting atop her bare thighs, “... non-binary.” Your cheeks are hot, burning with shame, and you have never been so grateful that your skin is tawny enough to conceal it. 

Daisy doesn’t blink. “Okay,” she replies, then leans forth to place a barely-there peck atop your lips. 

You frown down at her, lips tingling. “‘Okay’?” you repeat.  

Daisy grins, leaning in for another kiss—and you’re all too quick to indulge her even as your thoughts spin and disbelief wars violently with consternation within your chest. 

Her lips are soft and warm against your own; when her tongue flits out to trace your lips, you’re parting them in an instant to meet her halfway; the sensation of kissing her is nothing short of euphoric, and you surrender willfully unto it like leaves in the brisk autumn wind. 

Seconds pass, or maybe it’s minutes, but she’s catching your lower lip between her teeth and you’re sucking on the tip of her tongue and— 

Quite suddenly, the kiss has become nothing short of filthy—all open-mouthed and desperate and bruising just how you like, and damn it all, but you can finish the rest of the conversation another time.

For now… well. You’re preoccupied with other things.  

— — 

(Later that night, when you’re both laid up in bed and drifting off to sleep, Daisy asks if you’d like her to start referring to you as ‘they’ and ‘them’ rather than ‘she’ and ‘her.’

When you answer in the affirmative, telling her that nothing would make you happier, the sheer measure of honesty in your words doesn’t feel nearly as nauseating as it did before. 

In fact, it’s rather the opposite.

The way Daisy reacts—a murmured, “Okay”; a feather-light kiss upon your forehead; two strong arms pulling you closer in the dark… well. That’s just icing on the cake. 

Despite everything—the self-doubt, the second guessing, the aching soreness settling into the very marrow of your bones—you feel yourself break out into a broad grin beneath the pitch-dark cover of night.

You feel good; comfortable in your own skin. You feel… happy.)

— —

end notes: i want melinda may to be my friend.

LINK TO MASTERLIST

[mageofseven]

The Demon Brothers when Discovering they’re in Love

Spoilers: Mentions the end of the first season of the game in Belphie’s. If you haven’t read that far yet, you’ve been warned.

Lucifer:

Feels rather torn when he comes to this realization.

On one hand, he feels that the object of his affection has become too much of a distraction.

The amount of times he finds himself spacing out while doing paperwork because thoughts of you plague his mind is truly appalling to him

But still, he gets lost in the care that you give him and finds your reliability refreshing.

All the nights he stayed up to get his work done and you came in with some coffee to help him along, sometimes unprompted; it’s like you just know when he needs a little boost. 

You even remember that he likes his coffee with a shot of poison. It’s truly the little things like that where he gets lost in your consideration.

Then there are the nights where even some small part of him realizes that pushed himself too far.

It would have been his fourth consecutive night without sleep if it weren’t for you.

“Luce?”

The man didn’t look up from his paperwork. Instead, he finished signing the document before switching papers and starting to skim through it.

“Thank you, MC. Just set it on the desk.” He said, assuming you had just brought him coffee as usual.

“I’m sorry.” You say as you step in. “That’s not it.”

The Avatar of Pride finally looked up and sighed as he saw your empty hands.

“Then what is it? I’m afraid I have neither the time nor energy to chat right now.”

“That’s the point, Lucifer.” You say, approaching his desk. “You need sleep.”

He scoffed at your words. “I can assure you that I am more than capable of doing my work without a few nights of rest.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t, Lucifer.” You lay your hand on his forearm. “I know you are capable, but still. Please, just sleep.”

He looked up into your eyes and sighed. They held no hint of deceit or trickery. He had grown so used to looking for such signs in people, most commonly in his brothers, but in this moment, he only saw genuine worry in those beautiful orbs.

When was the last time he had seen such? When was the last time someone had shown real concern for him?

The man couldn’t recall.

“Alright.” He relented. “I’ll put the papers away for now, but I expect you to head to bed as well. It’s nearing 3am.”

It was that night, as he laid in bed, that he tried to decipher the feelings within him, floating around in his chest.

When he realized it was love, the man could only shake his head at the thought. After all, he had no time for such feelings, he told himself.

But the more he dismissed them, the stronger they seemed to be within him.

The man even spaced out during a conversation with Diavolo one morning and was mortified with himself.

Obviously, Diavolo was more curious than upset though.

After some pressing from the prince, Lucifer sighed and explained the issue that plagued him.

I don’t think it would be possible for Lord Diavolo to have a bigger grin on his face than he did in that moment.

The prince congratulates his friend on finding someone that inspires such feelings within him and asks about when he’s gonna ask you out.

Lucifer waves away his friend’s words, but the thought stays with him throughout the day.

It would be a lie to say that he doesn’t want to date you, but the man’s pride has always told him that he doesn’t need such a relationship with others, most especially a human.

However, you were no ordinary human. To him, you were special; he could admit that much to himself.

When he finally does ask you out, he’s as calm and collected as he is with anything else

…except for the hint of a blush on his cheeks, seen by only the most observant of people.

This boy is not as in denial about his feelings as you might think.

Mammon:

Mammon recognizes his feelings for you fairly quickly and is pretty honest about it.

At least, he’s pretty honest with himself with the subject, just not with other people.

He knew he had feelings for you since day one. What he should do about them, however, was the questions.

Yeah, he spent a lot of time denying it to his brothers, but that was mostly because he didn’t want you to know until he got himself sorted out. 

That and he didn’t wanna risk his brothers ruining things for him. I mean yeah, he’s had some small crushes, but they never lasted long and none involved feelings this strong.

He just really, really didn’t want to fuck this up.

So he spent a long time keeping his feelings to himself; months easily passing.

Every time he saw you smile or when he heard you speak in defense of him with his brothers, he could feel his face go hot and chest tighten.

You really felt like his human when you did stuff like that. Still, no matter how many times he said it or felt it, it didn’t make it true; not officially at least.

One day, you both were hanging out in his room, studying together.

Well, you were studying. Mammon was just kinda half-assing it. He only agreed to this so he could spend more time with you after all.

Boy was getting all fidgety as he thought…maybe now was a good time to tell you?

You both were alone together, which made things easier. He definitely didn’t want to actually sit here and study either.

Not to mention, if he had to hide his feelings any longer, the poor boy felt as if he’d just burst.

“Oi, MC! I got something to say so you better listen up!”

Your eyes flickered up at him and then back down to your notes, searching for a specific section.

“I’m listening.” You say as you go back to skimming through the page.

Nervous boy looks away from you.

“So…the Great Mammon likes you, alright!” He told you, booming with fake confidence.

“I know.” You tell him, not even looking up from your notebook.

That’s…that’s it? You must not get it. His tone starts to falter.

“I…no! I don’t mean just like!” He leaned in closer to you. “I… I meant I love you!”

You lift your head and smile at him.

“I know.” You tell him before leaning in and kissing his cheek.

The Avatar of Greed’s brain starts to short circuit. Was it really that easy all along?

You laugh at how red his face gets and find it cute. You always had feelings for Mammon and honestly, as much as he tries to be otherwise, he is an open book. Not just you, but everyone knew he had feelings for you. It was just a question of when he would admit it and you had waited patiently for him.

Leviathan:

This boy struggles to even identify the feelings within him for the longest time.

When the feelings do form inside him, he starts becoming a lot more red in the face over the simplest things.

Blushy boy is overwhelmed by basically any compliment you give him.

“Holy–Levi, I was stuck on that level for past month!” You tell him, practically buzzing from excitement. “You’re amazing!”

Levi.exe has stopped working.

It’s not just what you say that makes his brain freeze up. It’s your sweet, excited tone, your smile. The fuzzy feeling in him that tells him he did good. All of it is too much for his brain.

Honestly thinks something is wrong with him when you fixed his tie for him one morning because it was messy and all he could think about for the next ten minutes was the fact that you touched him.

Wait, why did you fix his tie? He always wears it loose like that and you never commented on it before...

Otaku boy is very upset with himself right now.

Tries to avoid you for a while, but after a couple days of this, he heard you asking his brothers if you did something wrong and what you could do to apologize to him.

Poor boy felt bad that he was making you feel guilty when you didn’t even do anything wrong.

Invites you to watch anime with him so you can stop worrying.

He tries his best to act like his usual self with you and honestly, it was pretty easy with him getting so absorbed with the show.

At one point, he had to pause it to rant about something the protagonist just said. 

“I can’t believe it! They completely contradicted part of her character progression from season two! And have the gall to completely ignore that they did it!”

Boy was so annoyed until you stopped him. You pointed out a couple moments from mid-season three and one from season 4 that actually make the protagonist’s words very in character for them.

In the back of his mind, he’s really beating himself up for forgetting that one scene between Tsusaki and Momo

If it had been anyone else or if it was you, but at a different point in your friendship, he honestly would be livid to hear you make such a contradiction.

Levi has bonded with you for so long at this point though that he’s just impressed with your memory and character analysis ability.

I mean, he shouldn’t expect anything less from his Henry, but still, the boy is still loving this.

He’s found someone that not only enjoys the same nerdy stuff that he likes, but can actually have discussions about at the same level. You understand him just like you understand the anime on the screen and it’s characters.

At some point, he kinda got lost in his thoughts about you, checking out in favor of such thoughts instead of your words.

A smile slowly formed on his face as he thought about just how great it was that he found you. Or like, that you came to him, I guess.

He got so lost in all the good things about your friendship that he didn’t even realize at first when his thoughts were becoming words off his lips and had no time to censor himself.

“Man, this is great. This is why I love you.”

Silence.

Levi started panicking, realizing what he just said.

You sat in your seat, confused and a bit flustered.

After all, he interrupted you mid-sentence to blurt that out.

“Gaaah, I didn’t mean that!” He shouted. “Okay, maybe I did; I don’t really know, I just–aaaah I’m such a stupid, no-good–”

His words are stopped by your kiss. It only lasted for a second though because the boy quickly bounced back and covered his mouth with his hand.

You give a small chuckle at his reaction.

“Don’t worry so much.” You tell him. “I’m glad you told me.”

“H…Huh??”

“I…” You blush. “I actually have feelings for you too. I’m glad you said something first or I would have never been able to do… that.”

Levi is stuck wondering what the heck just happened, but as he starts to settle down, he decides he doesn’t really care; he likes how things have ended up.

Satan:

Is another brother that is not really good with his emotions.

Instead of panicking or getting overwhelmed with this new feeling inside of him though, he faces it with calm curiosity instead.

It’s hard for him to fully understand any emotion that is not anger, but he’s always trying to expand his knowledge on such things.

So when he starts noticing how small things you do cause his heart to race or a blush creep onto his cheeks, he’s not shying away; on the contrary, he seeks you out even more, wanting to spend time with you so he can analyze these feelings as they come.

He starts asking if you need some help studying more often since the answer is almost always yes. Study sessions with Satan are always very productive.

He starts lending books out to you even when you don’t ask. He brings you books that made him think of you as he read them, but doesn’t tell you that and presents them as a simple recommendation.

Always feels a sense of satisfaction when you accept them and come to his room later on to discuss them.

Starts reading more books on interactions between people to understand his seemingly strong awareness of you.

Like, why your finger tips brushing his when he hands you something or your shoulder touching his when you both read next to each other just sends an an almost electrifying feeling within him or when even the softest expressions on your face can make him smile.

Starts with mainly nonfiction books and slowly finds himself searching within the realm of fiction as well.

Despite what some people might think, he doesn’t really read fiction books much. When he does, it’s usually horror stories or the occasional sci-fi story (he finds how human picture the future to be fascinating, but also a bit silly).

He has very little experience with romance novels; he finds them to be pretty repetitive and predictable.

Still decides to read some since they do in fact focus on interactions between two people.

Finds that a lot of his experiences are mentioned in these books.

….he also finds his mind imagining similar situations with you.

This is…not the answer he thought he would get. ‘Love’.

So it was love that he felt for you? He honestly never gave any thought to loving someone in this way before. It simply was never a priority of his

But if that is truly what he is feeling…he wants to feel it to its full extent like the characters in his books.

Isn’t actually all that nervous when he decides to tell you. Like always, curiosity leads him through.

Not to say that he wouldn’t be hurt if you rejected him; merely that he wastes no energy worrying about such an outcome.

The day he decided tell you about this conclusion, you were sitting with him on his bed, backs against the wall, reading books.

He heard a little gasp to his right and glanced over to see you staring at your book, eyes wide, and whispering things to the page.

‘Oh my god’, ‘Why would you do that?’, and ‘Nonononononono’ were just some of the words you spoke into your book.

Satan chuckled, finding he scene to be cute.

You let out a groan, mildly annoyed with him.

“It’s not funny.” You whined. “He just walked away from her. Walked away! Right when she tried to kiss him! I can’t believe this!”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really! He–”

The blonde cut you off with a kiss, brief, but a bit fervent.

As soon he pulled away, you dropped your book and covered your red face. He quietly picked up your book and read the page that originally upset you.

“This is the same story I read yesterday.” He told you, hiding his own red cheeks within the pages. “The one that made me realize I wanted to kiss you.”

You lowered your hands and stared at the blonde, eyes wide.

“R-Really?”

“Yes.” He lowered the book to look you in your eyes. “Our protagonist may have failed you, but I’d like think that I just came through for you where he did not. Am I wrong?”

“N..No.” You mumbled, eyes darting away from him and to a stack of books. After a moment, you added. “C-Can you do that again?”

Satan chuckled softly and took his chin in his hand, guiding her face to look at him. He stared into your eyes for a minute with a teasing smile before doing just as he was asked.

The boy never actually said the words like he planned to, but it was obvious that his meaning got across to you.

Asmodeus:

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo is no stranger to feelings.

He had so many crushes during his time in the Devildom that he probably couldn’t even count them all.

They were always simple feelings though, flights of fancy that came and went, holding no real long term significance to him.

Don’t get him wrong; he finds a lot of fun/cute/sexy/beautiful people that he enjoys spending time with, but he sees them all as just temporary beings, coming in and out of his life without a second thought.

It’s still new for him to develop strong feelings for a person to the point that he actually thinks 'I never want them to leave’.

But with you, he does just that. Doesn’t realize he feels that strongly for you till you actually leave though.

It wasn’t anything unpredictable; the school year had simply ended. Everyone knew it was coming, but Asmo gave it almost no thought till it was here. 

Your absence hit him harder than he let any of his brothers know. Still, he did he did usual activities; shopping, partying, spa days (though he noticed that he needed those more often than before).

He called you as often as he could. Would have probably spammed you with texts and calls if Lucifer hadn’t set a limit on all the brothers with when they can talk to you.

There really wasn’t an ‘Aha!’ moment for him discovering that he loved you. The question for him wasn’t if he loved you; it was more like how much he loved you that he questioned.

After dealing with your absence, he got his answer: a lot.

When you finally came back for another year at RAD, the boy was ecstatic. 

Immediately jumps into hugging you, giving you little kisses on the cheek, and coming up with different reasons to keep you close.

Really clingy, but in a cute way.

Boy drops the ‘love’ word on you like it’s nothing.

Absolutely adores your blushy face after.

Is nothing but smiles when you said it back to him and wasn’t worried about it all.

I mean it is him we are talking about so of course you love him back.

Beelzebub:

Is slightly slow with the realization, but not the slowest of the brothers.

There was kinda already signs floating around about his feelings before he even knew it.

The other brothers suspected it, but unlike with Mammon, they just kinda left the big boy to handle it on his own and didn’t tease him about it.

Though he’s commonly helping all his brothers out with one thing or another, without even realizing it, he started treating you with the same level of care he usually only gives to Belphie.

He shares his foods with you and is always checking on you to make sure you feel okay (physically and emotional). Sweet boy knows how stressful it can be in House of Lamentation with all the arguing and his brothers’ shenanigans so he tries to makes sure it doesn’t bring you down.

He even once carried you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch after school. He felt bad you were so worn out from the day and didn’t want you to wake up with a sore neck from sleeping wrong on the couch.

Then there was one day when he managed to make you laugh--not on purpose, mind you, and the poor boy is still confused about what he did to this day, but the sound of your laugh filled with his cheeks red and the sweet boy couldn’t help smiling at it.

But once the moment ended and your laugh was gone, all Beel could think about was wanting to hear it again. He really wished he knew what he did the first time so he could replicate it.

He started asking around with his brothers about the moment that made him feel so warm inside and why he couldn’t stop thinking about you or that moment. They all waved him off with small smiles, telling him that he’ll figure it out on his own. Except for one.

Asmo was way to excited to follow the other brothers’ lead.

“That’s because you love her, silly!” He grinned at the redhead. “Now! When are you asking them out? I’ve been waiting foreeever to give you dating advice!”

Cue Beel’s brain buffering. And buffering. And buffering.

Ding.

Wait..love?

The boy smiled a sweet smile and walked away from his brother mid-sentence.

He kept walking till he found you in your room working on homework.

You lifted you head and smiled at him, mid-greeting when he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You blinked in confusion, but hugged back.

“What’s this about?” You laugh from in his arms and the good boy loved the sound of it. In fact...

“I love you.” He said, smiling down at you.

It was a cute albeit random and unexpected moment for you, but also one of your favorite memories with him.

Belphegor:

Belphie was surprisingly quick with discovering his feelings for you.

He knew it was love, but tried pushing the feeling down inside of himself out of guilt.

Yes, you forgave him for using and killing you, but the boy hadn’t forgiven himself for doing it, which made his feelings for you just hurt him worse.

Sleepy boy tries his best to take care of you to make up for it, but feels like it’s not enough.

He’s always the first person to realize when you’re starting to stress out and pulls you to him for nap. Naps always help him take a break from stress and various other emotions that he doesn’t want to deal with and knew it’d probably help you too.

Nap buddy. That’s what you’d call him, causing him to blush and turn away from you.

With the poor boy feeling so complicated, it was actually you who confessed your feelings to him instead.

It was during one of your nap sessions, unsurprisingly. Belphie just stared at you, eyes wide in disbelief, before switching to a glare.

“You stupid--how can you say that after what I did to you?”

“Belphie...that’s in the past and you’re different now.” You tell him. “I love the person that lays next to me; he’s different than the man who killed me.”

Oh Lord Diavolo, the way your human mind works is so ridiculous to him.

Ends up rejecting you and finds a new place to take a nap. His anger quickly turns to sadness as he falls asleep.

Feels awful the next few days. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just wants you to understand that he doesn’t deserve you after what happened.

Eventually approaches you to explain himself, hoping you’ll understand and let go of your feelings for him.

Instead, you launch into trying to reassure him that it’s not like that and regardless of what happened in the past, your feelings still stand.

He still thinks you’re idiot and tells you as much...but admits that he feels the same.

During the first two weeks of your relationship, the boy is surprisingly tense, but eventually accepts where you both have ended up and just lets himself enjoy it.

~

Masterlist

[robbyswayzekeenes]

badass━ demetri (cobra kai) imagine

demetri x badass fem! reader 

requested by @klt123456​

i hope you like it! just a lil demetri with his badass gf and some making out in the dojo :))

It wasn’t uncommon for there to be competition between high school students. Typically, any teenagers would be warring over who was the most popular, or the most attractive, but something you never tended to find high school students fighting over was who was the toughest. Then again, West Valley High wasn’t like any other high school. Since karate had infested the Valley like it was 1980, people had been changing. It was no longer about who dated who, and who fucked who-- no, the priority was now who could whip the other in a full-blown karate fight. And whilst there was a lot of competition for the top spot; whether it was Tory, or Hawk, or Miguel, and sure, they were all in the running. But everyone knew that the toughest kid at West Valley High was Y/N L/N.

The h/c didn’t look like much. (Your height) and seemingly harmless, she was anything but intimidating. If anyone were to suggest to an outsider that she was the toughest kid in the Valley, they would be ridiculed, especially when compared to Eli’s mohawk or Tory’s resting bitchface. But the thing that made Y/N really badass compared to any of the cobra’s or anyone at Miyagi-Do is that, whilst had been training in karate for a year or so, the girl had been fighting competitively since she was eight.

Red Tigers Karate was the only dojo left in the Valley until Johnny Lawrence brought back Cobra Kai. It had started back in the 80s and was the only one left after they all closed down. It wasn’t particularly busy, not like the rush of people Cobra Kai had received after Miguel’s fight in the cafe, but Y/N had been fighting there since she was a kid. Karate was always the best way for the girl to relieve anger, and now everyone was doing it. Despite the different styles, it was no competition that she was by far the best. She wasn’t defensive and passive like the style taught at Miyagi-Do, and she wasn’t all aggressive and merciless like Sensei Lawrence taught at Cobra Kai. The girl’s karate style was the perfect combination of offence and defence, which made her practically unbeatable. Y/N was badass as shit. And everyone knew it.

Demetri was the opposite of badass. Lanky and skinny, with gimpy, out of proportion limps, karate was definitely not his strong suit. He’d taken many beatings, even before karate came back to the Valley, and for a while, these beatings were even coming from his best friend, Eli. Sure, he’d had his victories in karate, for instance, when he had kicked Hawk into the trophy case during the school fight, but all in all, he had not had many successes when it came to karate. However, Demetri’s biggest success was somehow winning the heart of the biggest badass at school; Y/N L/N herself.

The pair had somehow become friends in school, despite the dark haired boy being very much terrified of her. And from there, their friendship had blossomed into a beautiful relationship, and the pair were both incredibly happy, despite the fact that Demetri had no idea how he’d ended up with someone so far out of his league. Since the karate war had started, Y/N had begun training more and more at Miyagi-Do, helping Daniel train the students, and now, after Kreese’s latest attack, helping Johnny Lawrence and the former Cobra Kai’s learn to fight in a style that wasn’t all offence. Today, whilst Daniel and Johnny were outside separately training Miguel and Sam in order to prepare them for the tournament, Y/N was playing a little game.

“Okay,” The h/c grinned, hopping onto the mat and getting in her stance. “Let’s play a sparring game. Winner stays on. I’ll start.” Demetri could see the mischievous twinkle in his girlfriend’s eye, but of course the new members of Miyagi-Do were not aware of the girl’s capabilities. “I’ll take you on,” Mitch had said with a cocky smirk, and the boy was flat on his back in less than ten seconds. Y/N pushed one strand of h/c hair from her face, winking at Demetri who was trying overly hard not to look impressed. “Who’s next?” The girl grinned, exhaling sharply as at least five new sets of eyes marvelled at her. This was the first time the combined dojos had seen each other fight, and they wouldn’t be the first to underestimate the seemingly innocent girl.

“Alright, Y/N, I’ll take you on,” Hawk said, stepping forwards, his scar twitching as his face twisted in determination. The red haired boy climbed onto the mat, and though he would never admit it to his girlfriend, Demetri was worried for her. He knew full well what he was capable of, and he had the scar on his arm to prove it. However, the brown eyed boy was wrong to doubt, as in thirty seconds, Y/N had Eli in a pin. “I win,” The girl breathed, one of her h/c strands falling from her bun. Eli got up with a huff and walked to the edge of the mat again, taking his spot next to Demetri.

As training went on, Y/N took every student on, working her way around everyone except Demetri and every time being victorious. “Holy fuck, she is badass,” Bert breathed after being thrown to the floor less than five seconds. He was the penultimate student, and still no one had managed to beat Y/N. Demetri let out a steady breath as he knew the time had come for him to get his ass handed to him by his girlfriend, and certainly not for the first time. Hawk smirked playfully before whispering to his best friend; “If it took her thirty seconds to get me down, I reckon she’ll have you in three.” “Actually, last time it was two,” Chris chimed in, earning a playful laugh from the others which caused Demetri to blush. However, it was at this moment that Sensei LaRusso chose to step into the dojo alongside Sensei Lawrence.

“Training’s finished for today, guys,” Daniel spoke, and Demetri was hesitant to let out a sigh of relief. As much as he loved Y/N, he would rather not have his ass kicked in front of the other teens, even if she had done the same to the rest of them. “You got lucky, Met,” Chris grinned, clapping the dark haired boy on the back as they began to file out the dojo. “Great training today, guys.” The h/c haired girl smiled, though Demetri’s brown eyes caught the mischievous glint in her e/c ones, and his eyebrows raised. “Sensei, if you don’t mind, I wanna train with Demetri a little longer. We didn’t get to finish today.” As soon as those words escaped her lips, the boy knew he was screwed. “Sure thing, Y/N. Thanks for all your help. It’s good to have someone round here who knows karate but also knows what it’s like to be a teenager.” “No problem,” The girl smiled, her eyes meeting Demetri’s with a smirk. “Yeah, and it’s good to have someone round here who’s an actual badass, too,” Sensei Lawrence chimed in, earning a disapproving look from Daniel. “I”m badass as fuck, I’ll have you know,” The man argued, and Y/N chuckled, closing the dojo doors and forcing the men to take their childish bickering somewhere else.

Demetri exhaled deeply as his girlfriend turned to face him. “Didn’t think you were getting out of a fight, did you?” The girl asked with a smile, causing the boy to roll his eyes. “Gee, anyone would think my girlfriend enjoyed kicking my ass.” “Maybe I do,” Y/N grinned cheekily before pressing a chaste kiss to the tall boy’s lips. “Now come on, in your stance.” Reluctantly, Demetri planted his feet and lifted up his guard, quirking an eyebrow at the girl who adjusted her hair where it sat atop her head before saying; “Ready? Hajime.” The h/c pounced forward, throwing a kick to Demetri’s head which he barely managed to block. She then threw one, two, three consecutive punches, but the boy shielded them all. She’s going easy on me, Demetri decided as not one of her shots landed. Scoffing slightly, the dark haired boy threw a feeble punch, but it was intercepted. “Come on, Demetri. You can fight better than that.” “So can you,” He pointed out, causing Y/N to smirk. The girl threw another kick, but he blocked it with the palm of his hand and retaliated with the same kick. A stupidly predictable move, even when she was taking it easy.

Y/N caught the kick under her arm, leaving the boy fighting for balance as she rotated their stance before forcing Demetri backwards, never letting go of his leg. His back hit the wall of the dojo with a crash, and the boy winced slightly. “Oops,” The h/c said, but she didn’t seem at all apologetic. “That was technically not a karate move,” The pedantic boy pointed out as Y/N finally let his leg drop to the floor and stepped inside his guard. “Neither is this,” She whispered, taking the collar of his shirt and pulling him down into a bruising kiss. Demetri was quick to reciprocate, much happier to be kissing his girlfriend than fighting her. Y/N’s hands snaked up to the boy’s dark hair as they continued to kiss, Demetri’s back pressed against the dojo wall. His hands slotted themselves inside the gaps of the girl’s vest top, setting them on her bare waist and making her shiver. “This,” Demetri mumbled in between kisses, “Is much better than fighting.” “We both know I could still beat you at this,” Y/N responded, pulling herself even closer to the boy so that their chests were flushed together. The two continued to kiss until they heard the opening slide of the dojo door, and hurriedly jumped apart.

“What are you- really, guys?” Sensei Lawrence asked as he stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised. “Sensei,” Y/N breathed, though it’s not like either of them could deny it with their bruised lips and Demetri’s messy hair. “I don’t wanna know,” He interrupted, before glancing at Demetri; “Good going, kid.” The boy blushed a deep red as Johnny went on. “I won’t tell Daniel if you won’t.” Both teens nodded aggressively, knowing full well how Mr LaRusso felt about kids making out in his dojo. “But if you’re gonna fuck, at least clean the mat afterwards.”

[mandoclan]

FEEL LIKE HOME // Javier Peña x F!Reader

A/N: 1.4k. I got emotional while watching s2:e4 of Narcos, so enjoy. No spoilers.

Warnings: emotional Javi, angst, fluff (happy ending y’all), mentions of drinking and prostitution, violence (this is a Narcos fic after all)

Three loud, consecutive knocks to your door woke you. Only one person knocked like that and you cursed as you made your way to the door. The knocks came again before you could unlock it and open the door for Javier.

You and Agent Peña had been “friends” for lack of a better word, for a few years now, both having transferred in from DEA offices in the US. He’d come from Texas, and you from a different office, but you’d bonded over the lack of good barbecue in Colombia. You worked different cases, not being able to stomach some of the nastier things you faced within the Search Bloc.

The door swung open and Javier stood there, eyes bloodshot and unfocused.

“Javi?” You asked softly, getting his attention. He let out a shaky sigh as he moved from the doorframe, and almost collapsed in your arms. “C’mon, I’ve got you.”

Javier breathed your name as you settled him on the couch and made to grab him a glass of water, but he refused to let you go.

“Stay, stay please.” He murmurs, those beautiful dark eyes staring right into your soul. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t, Javi, I won’t.” You settled in beside him and maneuvered him so he was lying down on your couch with you behind him, effectively spooning him. Fingers brushed through his hair and he sighed contentedly.

You didn’t push him to speak, knowing that the return of Carrillo likely meant tactics Javier didn’t agree with. You didn’t agree with them either, hence why you took the sidelines in many operations. You held him in silence for a long time before he finally croaked out a word you didn’t catch and started crying.

He turned in your grasp and held you close to him, crying openly into your shoulder. Javi didn’t cry often. You knew that. So whatever made him like this had to be bad.

You shushed him softly, allowing him to cry and get his emotions out. He rubbed his nose into your shirt, getting his snot and tears all over it, but you didn’t mind.

“Carrillo, he—”

“Shhh, you don’t have to tell me.” You mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t tell you what the man did.

“I won’t go with him anymore. I won’t.” Javi babbled into your shoulder, and you kept your fingers buried into his hair. He leaned into it, grateful for the comfort you provided. He didn’t speak much after that, just shuddered into you and kept crying. But his tears eventually turned into broken sobs.

“I’m honestly surprised you came to me, Peña.” He turned his face to look up at you, confusion gracing his features.

“Why?” he croaked.

“When you need to forget something, you smoke a cigarette, drink at least two glasses of whiskey, and sleep with some woman who won’t ask too many questions. You have a routine.” you stated calmly. He didn’t respond for awhile, just watching your face as you looked at him.

“I didn’t want anyone but you.” he whispered, “I watched him do something awful tonight, and all I could think was that I was glad you weren’t there to witness it. All I wanted to do was come home to you and hold you. I’m done with that shit.”

“Done with what?” you asked shakily, hoping he wasn’t saying he was leaving you alone in this country with Murphy. You hoped he was saying he was done with—

“The girls, the booze, all of it. It doesn’t help and it only makes me tired. I just want you, hermosa. I just want you.” And then he’s surging forward to kiss you, his face still wet with his tears.

You’re too shocked to kiss him back. Javier had never kissed you. In fact, when you’d first met him and heard the tittering of all the secretary girls and other women in the office talking about how well he’d fucked them, you told him you wouldn’t sleep with him, so he’d better get that off his agenda.

After about six months of working with each other, you’d become friends at best. You’d go to the bar with him, and he’d leave with some girl who fancied a jaunt with him while you made your way back to your shared apartment block. You’d hear Javier’s keys in the door of the apartment next to yours sometime in the early morning, and that was the extent of your relationship.

But then you started talking through failed missions and even trash talking Murphy when he came down to work with you, and you’d become confidants. When a mission went bad, before you ever thought to take yourself off of field work, he’d come knock on your door with a bottle of cheap wine and another bottle of whiskey and offer to drink with you. Then it was watching crappy tv shows on the couch with his arm slung around your shoulders, accidentally falling asleep together, and hugs whenever either one of you was upset. All of this leading to today, now, where Javier is kissing you and insisting he wants you.

You pulled away from him, and the man sobbed even harder.

“I don’t understand, why don’t you want me?” he gasped out, and you frowned.

“Javi, you just witnessed something extremely traumatic. We can talk about this in the morning, okay? C’mon, let’s get to bed. It’s late.” You reassure him, and he nods weakly. You know he’s upset by your apparent rejection, but you want to have this conversation in the light where you can gauge his emotions.

Ten minutes later you’re both curled up in your bed, him having stripped down to just his boxers and he’s just now noticing you’re in one of his old t-shirts, one he’d left there at some point when staying over.

Despite his earlier distress, the sight causes him to blush, his entire chest heating up as he pulls you closer to him. He only relaxes once his arm is wrapped around your waist and his head is pillowed on your chest. You’d quickly learned that this was Javi’s favorite sleeping position, but it’s not like you minded.

“Sleep, Javi. When you wake up, we’ll talk, okay?” you murmur, fingers brushing through his hair. He hums in response and you press a kiss to the top of his head to soothe him more. And soon, he’s snoring, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your sleep is fitful, thoughts swirling in your head about whether or not Javier meant what he said, if he really wants you, and how this could work. You’re terrified that his tears are the only reason he’d said what he did. You’re also worried he’ll wake up with nightmares, as he’s been prone to do when seeing something no human should.

You’re still sleeping when Javier wakes, feeling rested as he always does when he’s slept by your side, and he spends the time in the early morning light to just look at you, peaceful for once. You’re both in the same positions you fell asleep in and Javi trails a finger over your face, causing your nose to scrunch up, your eyes blinking in surprise to see him staring at you, face still smushed to your chest.

“Morning.” you whisper.

He doesn’t answer with words, but scoots forward enough to kiss you again, hoping against hope that your response is different than the night before. He’s relieved to find that you kiss him back, fingers tangling in his hair and he presses a hand to your cheek.

He breaks away and swallows nervously, Adam’s Apple bobbing. You give him a moment to collect his thoughts, a soft smile directed his way.

“I love you.” He finally says. “I want you only for the rest of my life, and fuck, I think it will kill me if you say you don’t love me or want me too. I’d give up anything for you, everything for you, if you’d just say the word. I want you so badly, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, Javi.” you murmur, eyes misty. “I want you too. I love you.”

He can’t believe his ears. He knows there’s much to talk about, but right here where he can kiss you again, this feels like home. And he thinks he could get used to it.

[joonkorre]

letters and words

@drarrymicrofic prompt: love letter

was thinking of tgcf’s hualian playing around with the supernatural and. it hit me.

just a quick one since i have a ton of WIPs to take care of. enjoy. AO3

“He says to take better care of yourself now that he's not here.”

“Of course,” Narcissa says, dignified in her hollowness. She merely looks at his face, her curiosity in his rapidly moving hands having faded long ago.

Harry sighs inwardly. When he first started this career, he had expected his Master of Death status to be enough for clients to believe him. As it turns out, it usually takes about ten sessions and an expensive investment in the Scale of Truth for them to even start looking at him with something other than polite indulgence. His work has spoken for itself, though, and to his contentment, the number of skeptics is dwindling by the day.

One Narcissa Malfoy remains unimpressed, however. Strange, considering she’s the one who wrote three letters consecutively to plead for a moment of his time like he wouldn’t readily accept.

Death is unbiased. It doesn't discriminate, only takes and takes. If he doesn’t grow to be unbiased himself, how can Harry even dare to approach its throne, let alone work with it?

Still, Narcissa pays the Scale of Truth no mind and agrees with his statements as if she anticipates everything he says, like he’s a fraud. Either way, Harry doesn’t really care. He’s here to do his job and give this woman peace of mind. So, his eyes never leave the planchette.

It darts from one letter to the next, Harry so used to each one’s placement that he can generally tell what the spirits want to say before they even finish.

“He asks if you know he loves you,” Harry says. His head is bent down and focused, missing the slight twitch in Narcissa’s fingers. “Do you know he loves you?”

If it’s not for the flickering of withering candles, the room might as well be completely silent. Narcissa pauses, before:

“Interesting question for a mother,” she says. “‘Do you know he loves you?’”

Harry looks up. The way she phrases the question doesn’t make sense; it's like she’s asking someone else. That is, if there’s any other person in the dusty, hazy room except Harry. The planchette quivers then, jackrabbiting across the board.

“Better answer him,” Harry murmurs as his eyes are pinned on the little wooden heart. It makes no discernable word, then stops altogether. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Narcissa stirs her tea absentmindedly. She stares at him. “May I have a question for him in return?”

Harry gives the same answer he’s been giving her every time she asks him this question: a nod.

“Am I the one he loves?”

Harry shoots a glance at the woman. What kind of question is that?

“He hated Lucius, you see,” she explains, “and held no love for his peers. They’ve either abandoned him or died, and he couldn’t find it in himself to dwell in their memories.”

“So, logically, you should be the one person he loves?”

“Indeed.”

Harry nods.

“Hmm,” nods again. “Okay. Alright.” Not weird in the slightest.

Harry repeats the question and the planchette draws a decisive line toward the word ‘Yes.’ Something clinks. The two occupants of the room look in its direction at the same time.

The Scale of Truth tips heavily to one side, the peacock feather apparently way heavier than the obsidian orb on the other side. The spirit has lied. A lot. Harry frowns and prepares himself for the oncoming fit of jealousy.

Instead of shouting or even a hint of biting snark, Narcissa smiles her first smile in the five sessions they’ve had. It doesn’t reach her eyes, but it does make her look a few years younger. Good genes, Harry notes. Wonders that if her last relative was still here, the age-regressing effect would also be noticeable on that pinched face.

“He let go of love so easily, that boy of mine. I had hoped for him to let go of what little he had left before he went, at least, to make his journey less full of burdens,” Narcissa sips her tea, pausing for a moment.

“On the contrary, it’d seem that it’s only grown,” she continues. “That boy of mine. My boy. He had never been one to keep his emotions in check very well.”

Harry can’t deny that.

“Is another question alright?”

A swift turn to the ticking clock on the far wall, and Harry can tell they have but a few minutes left of today’s session.

“Yeah, sure. Please make it quick, though,” he says.

“Of course,” Narcissa nods. Then, staring at the planchette, she asks, her voice softened. “Who is the person he loves, then?”

Harry hums. Good question. Even better if there’s a reply. But, well, even after two repeats of the question, the planchette only lies there.

Minutes pass. Harry is more than happy to wait it out for a little longer just to ensure that Narcissa’s question is answered. But if no answer comes, then he’d have to finish the ritual and make both of them wait until next week for another session. Many clients drive themselves spare when situations like this happen, and while Harry thinks Narcissa’d rather eat mud than be associated with those people, it doesn’t sit right with him that an old woman would have to wander the lonely halls of this forgotten mansion, wondering what her son might have said. But since they've just been sitting here, waiting...

“Alright. Seems like we're gonna have to continue this next time,” Harry concludes, moving the planchette toward the ‘Goodbye’ carved in the bottom of the board. “Good-”

Something brushes against his cheek. A press. Soft and fleeting, then it’s gone.

“-bye.”

Harry almost throws the planchette on the table and risks the consequences for such a disrespectful act, but he refrains from doing so. Setting it down without a sound, he leans back against the squeaking armchair, leaving his equipment unpacked. Hesitant fingers against a stubbled cheek, Harry catches Narcissa’s eyes.

“Did he do something?” She asks.

“Yeah.”

“So he did,” Narcissa peers at the yellowed windows as if she can clearly watch the overgrown garden. “How do we know if a spirit is at peace?”

Harry pulls his hand from his cheek to rub his chin, eyes still a bit glazed over. “When they no longer respond to the ritual’s call.”

The clock ticks on.

“Well,” Narcissa says. She smiles once more, her eyes now curving along with it. “Thank you for what you’ve done for me, Mr. Potter. For him.”

“Oh, that’s, that’s just, I’m just doing my job.”

“And you did it perfectly.”

Uncrossing her legs, Narcissa strolls to the fireplace with an effortless glide that's been startling in its absence. The pouch she retrieves from the mantle is generous, nearly bursting with coins. When the lazily floating candles extinguish themselves with a hush at the wave of her wand, Harry snaps out of the fuzzy fog that's permeated every corner of his head.

“Mrs. Malfoy, your second payment isn’t due until—”

“You have no need to burden yourself with us anymore,” Narcissa pushes the pouch toward him. “He’s done what he’s yearned for all these years. He is free and finally at peace, and that is all I ever wanted for him. Another session is not necessary.”

She smiles kindly.

“Thank you.”

Harry vaguely feels himself say, “You're welcome,” then averts his eyes. He doesn’t look at the Scale of Truth. He doesn’t look at the board nor its planchette.

He doesn’t look at anything at all.

[cosmiclatte28]

Nightmare (Mark x reader)

Angst, major character is terminally ill (no need to proceed if you’re not comfortable with this, head to masterlist and see other works instead)

a/n : I swear this started as just a fluff or comfort for mark with a bad dream, but it took a toll and I ended up with an angst.. but ofc the end is not sad. I tortured you enough with the storyline. 

warning : language and illness

Prepare to slap me with keyboard smash as I once again tried to make an angst but it’s not enough to make you cry...

tagging @neopalette 

-- here we go --

“Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream,” you shush your first and last as he shakes under the moonlight clinging into your shirt for dear life. “None of it was real Mark.” You run a hand on his hair while the other rubs soothing circles on his back.

His shoulder stops shaking but he’s still sobbing and controlling his breath.

“Sorry, I am so sorry.” He buries his head into his palm and sobs louder. You feel your heart aches as you see your love just cries there because of another bad dream for the fourth time this week but you cannot help him other than calming him down.

You’ve known Mark for six years, lived with him for three years and this is something you’ve never seen before.

“Calm down, follow me breathe Mark,” you squeeze his hand to get his attention to start copying your breathing.

“There, there.” You pull him to your hug and he leans into your shoulder like he really is afraid something will just snatch him away from you.

“Drink first?” you bring him a glass of water you kept on your bedside and Mark slowly gulps the water down.

“Thank you-“ he whispers with his croaky voice hoarse from crying.

You want to ask him what is it about, four consecutive nights with Mark just waking up in the middle of the night crying because of his dream. You know better not to ask for he will answer you and that will make him harder to sleep.

“I am messed  up, sorry (y/n),” he looks up to you with his red eyes and you see fear in them.

“It’s just another nightmare Mark, don’t give it a damn.” You smile and half lay down your body on the pillow before pulling him to rest his head on your chest so he can listen to your steady heartbeat. His eyes are open, piercing to the ceiling. Your fingers still run over his hair as you calm him down.

“I am afraid,” he murmurs after some time of silence.

You hum, so he knows you’re still awake and attentive.

“Afraid of what? You prepared a lot for your comeback, you’ll do great.” You smile feeling proud whenever you remember how hard he works for the coming project.

Mark’s lips tremble, for the last four days he always sees the same scene playing in his head. Something that makes him cry and jumps up awake lately.

There in his dream he vividly remembers you being snatched by a white light while he is forced to leave with a black shadow dragging him away from you even when he tries to take himself off and hold on to you, he can’t. He feels himself dragged into a dark pit where he can’t see you and before he knows what happens next, he always wakes up crying and panting. Then you would wake up and do the same cycle, calm him down, give him water, and stay up with him until he sleeps.

“Let’s get married.” Mark impulsively says and you shoot your eyes open, before giggling “What kind of joke is this again? Is this April fools?” you stop playing with his hair and instead runs your hand slowly to hug his waist.

Mark shakes  his head as he moves his body so he is facing you and your eyes. He scoots closer and you can see his eyes glassy “I said, let’s get married.”

You shake your head “We can’t,”

“Why?” he cuts you in before you can say anything.

“Because-“ you bite your lips. No, you cannot tell him why. He won’t like it. You look down to the sheets between you.

“Why? Why (y/n)? We’ve been wanting this since forever!” Mark frantically touches your face so you can keep your eyes on him.

“You just woke up from a bad dream Mark, we’re not talking about this now. Please go to bed. You’re not in your right mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You break your eye contact and turn your back on him

Mark freezes on his spot when he sees how your small shoulder looks weak and starts to shake slightly. Did he make you cry? His hand longs to touch your hair and rakes them like you did to him, but he remembers the day you told him you don’t feel comfortable with it. So he pulls his hand back.

He tries to reach for you but you pull the blanket to cover your body more before he had the chance.

Mark finally falls back to sleep after trying to figure out his dream which he gives up after ten minutes.

You cry in silence, afraid that Mark will see you sobbing alone. No, Mark should never know how much time you have left.

--

“Doctor, can I skip today’s session?” you quietly make a call to someone early in the morning on the kitchen before Mark wakes up.

“I have something more important to do.” You lied. Well you have no plan, you just don’t feel like taking in more chemicals into your body despite the experts saying it will saves you by some months.

“Please, I’ll be back for the next session. Promise.” You close your eyes as you feel your head spins again.

“Thank you-“ you say before quickly pushing the phone off and taking several pills into your mouth and pushing them with water.

“Honey? You okay?” Mark asks when he sees you gripping on the sink in the toilet with your phone on the floor.

You shake your head and fake a smile and look at Mark from your blurry vision full of tears “I am okay. Just washing my face.” You quickly pretend to splash water to your face.

“Oh, okay. Just let me know if you need anything.” He gives a small smile before leaving you alone.

Mark glances one more time to the pillow you slept on tonight, that’s an unusual amount of hair loss. Are you stressed? Why did he find a lot of hair falling on your side of the bed?

“I’ll be home for dinner.” Mark says before tucking on his shoes.

You nod “What do you want to eat? I don’t really want to cook maybe we can go out?” you ask, hoping he has the time.

Mark thinks for a while “Sure, I can do that. Where do you want to eat?”

You smile “Our first date place?”

Mark giggles “Sushi? You love that so much! Okay book a place for two for seven?” Mark asks and you nod. He presses a kiss on your lips before raising his hand to ruffle your hair only to pause mid-air when he remembers you also asking him to not play with your hair.

“See you, love you!” Mark kisses you one last time and then disappearing behind the door.

You finish your breakfast and gulp some more pills. “For Mark,” you whisper to yourself as you refill your medicine box with pills.

--

“It’s the same nightmare hyung-“ Mark shares his thought again to Taeyong today when the leader notices something off with their Mark.

“Have you tried asking her? Maybe she knows something about the dream?” Taeyong tries his best to help his brother. Seeing Mark sad and frustrated is hurting him.

“I can’t, she is also weird lately. Look, she doesn’t even want to answer my invitation to get married.” Mark suddenly changes topic and their leader is shocked about this.

“Woah that was fast. Maybe she wants a romantic one, not an impulsive one like what you did.” Taeyong shrugs his shoulder.

Mark nods “Maybe, you’re right. I’ll do it rightly. Thanks hyung.”

“Anytime Mark.” Taeyong forces a smile before burying his face to his palm after the guy is out. Did you really not tell him about your condition?

“(Y/n), as much as I love to cover up for you. You have to tell him. He’s your lover, he deserves to know it” Taeyong calls you the second he assures himself Mark is not around to eavesdrop.

“I will hyung, thank you just wait for some more time.” You bargain.

“Okay, just… I am sure he will be sad if you never tell him the truth.”

--

“Where is Mark?” Taeyong asks when he gathers the member to evaluate today’s practice.

“Gone to buy a ring.” Johnny shrugs his shoulder and Taeyong just lets him be.

Meanwhile Mark is rushing through the mall to get a diamond ring you’ve once mentioned to him. Taeyong’s right, he thought. You’re not answering him because he is not holding a ring. How silly of him.

You put on your first date dress, style your hair slowly and you put on your smile before finally taking a cab to the sushi place you first met Mark.

He was already seated in your reserved place. He looks stylish in his light blue shirt and his hair styled nicely.

“Hey, sorry for waiting.” You take your seat across him.

He doesn’t mind waiting for you. Both of you start talking about what happened today. Mark tells you about the practice and you just tell him you’re staying at home enjoying your day.

“I have something to say-“ both of you confess at the same time and stop at the same time “You first-“ both of you say that again and chuckle in embarrassment.

“You go first-“ Mark lets you have the chance and you contemplate. Should you tell him the truth? But if not now, when? What if time is cruel to you?

You take a deep breather and open your eyes “Mark, I am so sorry.” You start off.

He looks at you with a questioning face, “Sorry? What for?” he suddenly feels nervous, is this the part where you’ll confess you don’t love him anymore or maybe you cheated on him? Or he sees you walk with someone else and accuse him of cheating and then breaking up? Is this it? Mark has so many in his head but he’s nervous as he sees you also nervous to confess.

“What for sweetie, tell me..” Mark tries to reach for your hand but you hide them in your lap.

You close your eyes and spit the truth, (here goes nothing, you thought) “I am dying Mark.”

He opens his eyes wide, mouth shutting and opening like a fish, are you joking right now, is this a payback

“What? No- you’re-“ he stutters when you pull out your medicine box and show him your arm you’ve been hiding under long sleeves shirts.

Mark reaches out for your hand and examine the traces of needles on your skin. He shakes his head, is this what he is seeing in his dream? Is this the answer to the nightmares?

“I am so sorry-“ you weep, trying your best to not break down in front of him, but you can’t… not when you see how broken he looks like right now.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks softly, still remembering how you don’t like to get yelled at.

You feel tears falling, “I knew them too late Mark, stadium 4.” You try to smile from your pain but you can’t stop crying not when Mark starts to cry too.

“No baby, no  no you-“ He squeezes your palm when he sees you cry louder

“You can get treated, come on we’ll find the best doctor.” Mark already stands to your side and sits on your empty spot and hugging you close and tight.

He feels how skinny you’ve changed and his hand brushes your hair before noticing them falling down. He curses at himself for not noticing this sooner. You suddenly avoiding foods, not wanting him to touch your hairs, the fallen hairs on your bed side, your morning routine in the toilet. Your constant disappearance when he has tight schedules or tours. You must’ve been on the hospital when he has tours. That’s how you are always homed when he is home.

Mark feels his world falls apart. How come he did not know this. How come he lets you walk through this alone.

“How long baby?” he asks and you whisper “Last year I was diagnosed.”

He curses in his heart “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You were fighting alone? If I know, I’d fight with you honey.” He tries to stop his crying but his tears can’t stop falling down.

“Sorry. I am so sorry Mark. I love you, I don’t want you to worry.” You hug him tighter.

Mark pats your back “Hey, you not telling me just makes me worry more. I even got bad dreams about this.” He shakes his head “Honey, tell me you’re doing something to cure this?”

You nod “I did, but they can’t. I just have months Mark.” You cry louder and that hurts Mark’s heart more than getting scolded by his trainer.

“Hey, don’t say that. Miracles happen. We’ll get through this. You’ll have more than months. I am here for you always.” Mark squeezes your shoulder as he sucks his tears in. No come on mark you got to be strong.

“I am not going to lose you honey. Tell me what we can do, I’ll do it with you.” He pulls back to see your face.

“Stop crying, we’ll get through this okay?” he wipes a tear that falls from your eyes.

You nod, though you know there’s not much left and nothing else can be done… you nod so Mark lee can be happy again.

“Now, as a promise. I will give you this.” He pulls out the box of ring he bought earlier, and you gasp “No way,” you close your mouth.

Mark smiles “Come on, I got the ring.” He pulls out the perfect diamond ring and slip it into your finger “I promise to be by your side as we both fight together.” He kisses you knuckles, and you cry louder. He pulls you to another hug “I heard people survive this when they have hope, faith and supports from their loved ones. Let me be in your survival story, I want to cross out our bucket list we made together.” He squeezes your hand, and you force a smile to your face. Mark totally makes you feel better. You will be ready even if you have to die now.

“I don’t deserve you, Mark.” You murmur.

He shakes his head “You deserve me, I deserve you. We are made for each other. Now, we will promise each other to walk together through storms and rainbows side by side. Don’t leave me and I won’t ever leave you, my first and last.” Mark kisses your temple, and you melt into his touch.

He is indeed something you’d never trade for in this world. Even if someone offers you a longer life, you will not ever trade it if Mark is not there.

end.

epilogue??