#and manages to hold on for a good while even when he has to dodge actual assassination attempts

[canisalbus]

@ the person who said Machete wouldn't have a cutie mark, I definitely see where you're coming from, but I disagree! Machete, against all the odds of his birth and existence, survived and excelled. His determination to continue would have earned him his mark.

In g4, at least, they're more than just a representation of a task you're good at. It's a reminder of who you are as a person, of a truth you hold.

I think Machete might have a fang or claw, a representation of the phrases 'with gritted teeth' or 'clawing your way up' or maybe a hoof reaching toward the sun

I also think a mark like that would seem strange and off-putting, and may have been a source of strife for him while in school. In MLP, it's not terribly uncommon for ponies with no cutie mark or a cutie mark they're ashamed of to cover it up with clothing, in the way canon Machete wears his outfit.

Idk just my two cents

[rqnarok]

summary: old man!logan finds himself having a breeding kink.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. heavy breeding kink. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names. not proofread. 

Logan’s younger self would not approve of this idea. 

Hell, it would not even cross his youthful, unbound, and liberated version. Younger Logan would have brushed off the idea - dodging it like a bullet - revolting against it. 

Having a kid? A noisy five-year-old child running around the house, screaming and kicking everything in sight? Yeah, fuck no. 

He’d even hate just thinking about it. 

But now that years have gone by and he’s almost hitting 200 years of age–a lot has changed in how he sees things, alright. Suddenly he’s not that idealistic-insufferable-annoying fuck anymore.

The heavy feels of his own body, his poor visions, his utter tiredness and wounds are slowly tended by settling down with you. Living in a small countryside home just outside Texas is the life Logan needed all along.

So he just can’t fucking help it when he sees how you act with those children at the Barbeque party. How you treat them with such care as if they’re yours. 

The smile plastered on your face after you give each one of them a cookie is Heaven sent for Logan. He’s too focused on being mesmerized by your acts that he almost does not realize how his trousers feel tighter.

He quickly hides his bulge whilst embarrassed of himself, thinking ‘M fuckin’ old for this shit. But who gives a fuck anyway? 

Oh, he in the past would not approve of this at all. 

“Fuck. You’d look so fuckin’ good with y’r belly swollen with my child.” Logan grunts out, thrusting his girth into you as his mind fills up with visions of you carrying his child. 

The images themselves make Logan go feral—growling when he feels how your velvet walls manage to clench around him.

“A-ah! Please!” The high-pitched noise you let out is almost humiliating as you bounce yourself on top of your husband, making the head hit your gummy spot every time you fall down.

“Hm? Y’want that, Little Missy? Want me t’give you a baby?” His calloused fingers rub shapes on your sticky skin, guiding your hips as he tries to search for the answer in your eyes.

You reply with a frantic nod, your mind feels empty as his tip deliciously kisses your cervix. The thought of being full of his seed, pregnant and giving him a baby—makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

With one movement, Logan manages to manhandle you to a new position, his cock never slips out from your heat, “Want this old man t’give you one? Make you a momma?” 

The sound of his full balls slapping against your ass makes you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Now clearly hearing the obscene moans emitting through the dim room, “Yeahyeahyea—W-wanna be a momma—”

While you wonder how he still has this much stamina at that age, Logan leans down to your ear and buries his face on your neck, “Pretty wife. Gonna make the cutest goddamn babies, y’know tha’?” 

His palms hold your thighs spread open to reach deeper inside you, “Let me fill ya’ up real good.”

Logan’s eyes flicker to watch your pussy swallow his cock in and out. The sight alone makes him throw his head and let guilt wash him over for a minute.

He feels perverted—corrupting you by plugging his cock to the hilt as if it is trying to mold your insides. A dilemma growing.

You could feel how his thrusts steadily became desperate, “L-Lo.” Whining out, your fingers crawl into his back to pull him tighter. 

He can’t fucking wait to have you round up. Shit. You’d be so dependent on him—need him at all times. And he’d fulfill everything you ask him to do. Logan would never even let you move an inch. 

Everything caught up to him as an acute wave, “F-Fuck. There ya’ go, baby.” Logan mutters - his hands shake slightly as they lose their grip on your thighs. 

His cock never pulling out, “D’ya think it takes, pretty?” You could feel him deep inside you—how your walls are painted by his thick ropes of cum. 

Logan gives lazy circles of his hips before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, whispering several ‘I love you’s’ before lowering himself so his face could level with your pussy.  

“Fuck.” The older man has never seen a far more beautiful sight than this. Watching his cum begin to leak out of you makes his cock twitches again. 

The scruffy feel of his beard scratches your inner thighs as he leans closer—dragging the tips of his fingers along your folds before plugging his digits back inside. 

“Logan-n!” 

A deep rumble comes out of Logan, “Shh. Be a good girl for your husband, yeah? Need’a to make sure it takes.”

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

im OBSESSED with demon slayer + ur work!!

could you pls do the hashira reaction to their s/o giving them lots of affection so they let their guard down, and then they suddenly start a pillow fight and tickle them?

This was funny in my head 😭

(HEY ANON! YOU’RE OBSESSED WITH MY WORK?? THAT’S CRAZY, THANK YOU SO MUCH. The kind words really mean a lot. Anyways I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day.)

Hashira with an Affectionate S/O

(Characters Included- All the Hashira)

(Warning: Fluff, fluff, fluff)

🦋Shinobu Kocho🦋

- Likes the affection you give her. Especially if you give her a massage after a long stressful day. She loves to reciprocate it back by tracing your scars or marks, giving you a quick peck on the lips, and etc.

- Unfortunately for you, if you decide to start any pillow fights, you’ll lose. Shinobu is very fast and can dodge your “attacks” easily. Having these silly little fights relieves her from the stresses of the world. She’s grateful that she can have these moments with you.

🐍Iguro Obanai🐍

- Not big on PDA cause he gets embarrassed but doesn’t mind small things like holding hands and the sort.

- Obanai was just enjoying the silence with you wrapped in his haori and saw you grab the pillow. He thought you were just adjusting it until it headed towards his face. He blocked it with his arm and before he could even say a word you tickled him. He flinched because he’s a little ticklish but managed to stop you. He was like “How dare you” afterwards, but secretly he didn’t mind this silly side of yours.

🍡Mitsuri Kanroji🍡

- Always accepts the affection openly. She’s big on PDA, everyone can instantly tell that you two are dating. Squeezes you in the biggest hug before letting you go to get oxygen.

- One day when you two were cuddling, you felt the need to choose (playful) violence. So you swiftly grabbed the nearest pillow and hit your girlfriend with it. When she felt a pillow hit her face it stunned her a bit but she quickly snapped out of it and fought back. Both you and her were laughing nonstop.

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- He thinks your affectionate side is admirable. Always reciprocates it when he can. Some of his favorite things that you do is when you surprise him with a hug and lean on him whenever you’re tired or sleeping.

- When you started the pillow fight he chuckled at it and asked if you’re challenging him. As soon as you said yeah he’ll be like “Alright then, prepare yourself.” And the both of you will just have a good time being silly together.

🔊Tengen Uzui🔊

- He always smiles or chuckles at the affection. Definitely would crack your back if he hugged you back really hard. Though when you’re hugging him, he mainly puts one hand on your back while the other is patting your head.

- You won’t be able to surprise him, he’ll hear the pillow coming from a mile away and grab it. Once he has it he’ll throw it at you while saying something cocky like “You thought that you could sneak in an attack against ME?”

☁️Muichiro Tokito☁️

- He is confused at first on why you were so affectionate but he doesn’t mind it. Might be a little tense though.

- You’ll definitely catch him off guard if you hit him when he’s zoned out. He’ll instantly snap out of it and start dodging the pillows. If you tried to tickle him he’d grab your hand and tickle your stomach as revenge. He would be laughing while you’re trying to get free.

🌪️Sanemi Shinazugawa🌪️

- Secretly enjoys your affection but he mainly reciprocates it in private when it’s just you and him instead of in public.

- When the both of you were laying down together, you suddenly ticked him and he quickly moved away. He wouldn’t even face you because of the embarrassment because he didn’t want you to find out that he was a bit ticklish. (He will still deny it even after the incident)

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- He gets used to your affection after a few weeks of dating you. Tries to reciprocate but it’ll take him time. Though he does get better over time.

- He was all relaxed until you suddenly hit him in the face with a pillow. He would be confused about the sudden pillow fight. He’ll just sit there and blink at you while he’s still getting hit. Then he’ll question if he did something wrong so you’ll have to reassure him.

🪨Gyomei Himejima🪨

- Gyomei enjoys your affection and tries his best to reciprocate it. Though he’ll be a lot more gentle than you, for example if you hug him really tightly he’ll hug back gently because he doesn’t want to hurt you.

- He’s not ticklish so if you tried to tickle him it wouldn’t have an effect on him. Though he will be smiling at you cause he thinks you’re adorable.

Masterlist

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

[timkontheunsure]

Tilla's circus act

Blitz doesn't move on muscle here.

The episode sets up alot of parallels in the ways Millie gets Blitz, and how she's comfort him in this episode.

She the one to give him back his mum's brooch.

She tries to pass on her own Mum's advice.

And is Millie give him a hug and holds his hand when he's upset. She set up to remind him of his mum in this episode.

But looks at what she does in their first fight/ interview process 😁. All the knives and blades..

Blitz uses a very showy spin to dodge. And guides her knife into hitting the wood of the chair back.

He's extremely confident and comfortable doing this.

He uses somersaults to get more space when needed.

Like he's extremely used to putting on a show while doing so.

He uses simple disarms on Millie, the sort you sort you might have taught a child.

There's something about this imp lady throwing knives at him that's making Blitz smile through a majority of this fight.

Millie even uses Blitz as a support to do a wallwalk cartwheel out of his hold. And Blitz just lets her.

Till their both enjoying the sparring match. 😁

When she grabs the darts Blitz reaction like it's expected.

And he's really happy about it.

He uses a back spring handstand into a flip to dodge the rest of them.

When he offers his hand; and she goes for another knife, he carefully keeps his stance and doesn't blink.

Like it's a lesson that got drilled into by someone he trusts, and always wanted to help out.

It was always interesting that Blitz and Barbie can fight using their Circus skills; but Fizz can't.

He's a juggler and acrobat, but can't fight for toffee.

Barbie Wire has the same easy way for dealing with knives in a fight.

I think it's really likely that Tilda's act was knife thrower and combate demonstrator.

As Millie says there's a lot imp assassins in Wrath. Might as well find a different use for those skills you're good at, and capitalise.

We know Cash's job was Ring Master, they don't normally do anything. Just announced the acts, and hype at the crowd. (Management never really dose alot do they lol).

We don't see who the knife thrower is at the circus, but lot of time is spent on the knife they throw.

[always-just-red]

HIIIIII congrats on 200 followers!! Can I have a Zayne smut fic pleasee?? Like the reader sees him wearing scrubs for the first time and she finds him hot or (reverse) him seeing the reader in uniform for the first time? Thank you!!

Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this! '200 followers' is like a punch in the face reminding me how long this has been in the queue haha, but thank you so much! ❤ I don't write smut I'm afraid but this is a quick lil build-up to a cliff-hanger, so if any of the talented smut writers out there wanna write a part 2? Go for it! And tag me so I can read it link it here for everyone to enjoy!! Smut writers, I summon you!!! ✨🔥✨🔥✨✨

Professionalism

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You love a man in uniform! Or... well, scrubs or whatever.

Genre: Suggestive (not smut sorryyy)

Warnings/Additional tags: still PG i guess since it cuts off before anything happens? gn!reader, established relationship, inappropriate workplace behaviour (shame on you Dr Zayne!!)

| Word count: 1.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You’re not quite sure when this game started, but you’re going to win.

It was unassuming at first— harmless, even innocent little acts that slipped into something else altogether, as they so often do. Almost like falling in love: it snuck up on you. Coincidences— a chance meeting in the park, an accidental brush of two hands— become suddenly calculated. You take the reins from fate; you walk in the park where he takes his lunch, and he takes his lunch in the park where you walk. How fortunate it is, that you’re always running into one another.

Yes, this has been like falling in love. And neither one of you is naïve.

It’s dark outside the hospital. The stars are contesting the scattered, infinite lights of Linkon and you watch them through a window, finding meanings and shapes. They’ve a warmer glow than the cold, white, clinical lights in here.

“Could I get you something while you wait?” Yvonne asks, peeking over the top of the reception desk. She sounds anxious, and you can make a pretty good guess as to why.

“I’m fine. Thank you, though, really,” you smile cheerfully back.

She humours you with one in return. “I’m sure Dr Zayne will be along shortly,” she titters nervously, trying to fill the quiet. “He was with his last patient of the round when I spoke to him. It shouldn’t have been too much trouble, he must be— ah! Dr Greyson!”

The man was just passing through, face buried in a clipboard, but he stops at Yvonne’s greeting.

You lift a hand. “Hey, Greyson.”

“Hey!” He squints at something he’s read. “What a coincidence! I was just saying to Zayne it’s been a while since you paid us a—” he looks up and loses his train of thought. 

“Visit?” you finish.

“Umm… yes,” he chuckles, with the kind of reluctance that tells you he can’t decide if he’s falling victim to some prank. It’s the same anxiousness you’ve inflicted on poor Yvonne. He tests the waters with a: “Rough day at work?”

You beam at him. You’re sat with your usually pristine uniform marred by swathes of half-dried blood, too dark to be human. Not one bit of it is yours. By some miracle, you managed to perfectly dodge every swipe of that Wanderer’s claws today. Rolled out the way of every flying piece of rubble. “You should see the other guy,” you say, then double back, “well, the other thing.”

Greyson gives a stiff grin, still sceptical, but you’ve almost won him over. Nonchalantly, you reach for one of two brown paper bags at your side, then hold it out to him. “Here, for you!”

He tucks his clipboard under his arm, then comes over and takes it. There’s a soft crinkle as he unfurls the top. Sneaks a glance inside. His face lights up. “Thank you,” he enthuses, his hand diving in to retrieve a large chocolate-chip cookie— one of many. “Yvonne, would you like—”

She holds up her own paper bag. Greyson chuckles again, tucking into the treat. Like Zayne, he’s prone to working through his breaks, and you know he’s so often starving. Midway through a bite, he looks up at you, frowning. “Is this a bribe?” he mumbles, cheeks so full you almost can’t make out the question.

You smile at him pleasantly.

He chews slowly— connecting the dots. “No questions asked?” he guesses with a raised eyebrow.

“No questions asked,” you nod.

It’s a fair trade. The cardiac surgeon thinks it over, his eyes narrowed at you behind his glasses. He takes another suspenseful bite of the cookie. Chews. Swallows. Then there’s the broadest grin you’ve seen yet. “Works for me! I don’t want to know.”

With a nod to Yvonne, he carries on down the corridor, shooting you a knowing wink as he passes. You adore that man. Hell, half the hospital staff feel like family. You’d lay down your life for them, but you also delight in having them wrapped around your finger, albeit, with the help of a cookie or two.

You’re so busy watching Greyson leave that you don’t notice his absence has already been filled. Not at first, anyway, but then you feel it: hazel eyes on you.

You turn to meet them. Zayne stands, one hand curled around a small stack of paperwork, the other retrieving his glasses from his face. He tucks them into his breast pocket. “What a pleasant surprise,” he says, and the enthusiasm has been carved out of his words and replaced with suspicion.

“Hey, doctor,” you tease, lifting the last of your care packages from the coffee table. “Thought I’d join you for your break before I head home. Do you mind?”

His gaze flits over you, and it isn’t the honourable inspection he’d claim it to be if you dared call him out on it. He’s trying not to look again. “Of course not.”

This would usually earn you a sheepish smile, or a kiss on the cheek, but you’re angling for something else today. Victory. Look at him: he knows.

Like you said, neither one of you is naïve.

…

All right— knife to your throat?— you have an inkling as to how this started.

It was a more honest version of this: you’d stopped by the hospital, a few months ago, to boost the morale of a certain doctor and his hard-working team with some coffee from down the road. The machine in the staff room was broken, and by multiple accounts: made shitty coffee, anyway. So you often found yourself, hot drinks in hand, trying to catch Zayne on one of his few breaks.

(You miss that old coffee machine. They’ve replaced it, now.)

One morning, you were a little too late. Zayne had been called on to assist with a surgery, and you almost clashed in the corridor— you hadn’t recognised him at first. He was out of his usual attire: dressed head to toe in his medical scrubs. Despite the rush he was in, he made time to flash you a gentle smile. Said you could wait in his office; he wouldn’t be long.

You never did give a coherent answer. There was something about seeing him like that— so professional, so in his element. Off to save someone’s life, probably. Gods, he was amazing, and he just looked so, so good. 

Zayne knew from the start, of course; he’s so perceptive when it comes to you.

You used to feel guilty— positively sinful— until you caught that look in his eye, one day after work. You’d gotten to his place, kicked your boots off while he watched from the couch, enamoured, but you hadn’t noticed. You’d been complaining about a Wanderer. You were a mess: your hair, your uniform.

You remember looking up, and there it was. A flicker of something dark in his gaze.

He was quick to disguise it. Always quick to disguise it, because he’s a gentleman.

It’s been an unspoken war of attrition since then, and you’re both determined to outlast the other. You pick and choose your battles; there are times Xavier tries to drag you to the Association’s medics for surface scrapes and bruises, but you turn him down: you have a doctor at home, thank you very much.

Zayne tends to every wound with tight lips and steady hands. You’d feel bad, but…

He sometimes turns up to your dates still wearing his lab coat. (He left his regular coat at home again, and it’s cold outside, isn’t it? A lab coat is better than nothing.)

Last week, he really pushed his luck. He was demonstrating a new experimental technique in the operating theatre, and Greyson insisted you come along to watch. It was so innovative, he said. Zayne was working something of a miracle, he said.

So here you are, fighting back.

“Well?” Zayne asks. He’s sitting back in his chair while you ‘straighten’ his tie.

You’re perched on his desk, not listening. “Hmm?”

He catches your hand gently, using it to pull you closer, so you’re forced to meet his eyes. His tone is low. “What did I just say?”

You glance down again. Chuckle: “Something about responsibility?” 

A finger lifts your chin, tilting your gaze back up. “It’s inappropriate,” Zayne says.

“What’s inappropriate?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“No,” you mutter, and the finger on your chin can’t keep you from staring at his lips. You speak a whisper of enticement: “Tell me what I’m doing.”

Will he do it— say it— after all this time? Put it to words so that it might finally be acted upon? Break, you will him, looking into his eyes, because the last stunt he pulled pushed you over the edge, and you can’t hold on much longer. It’s starting to hurt.

All in. You are going to fall, so you’ve got nothing to lose by trying to bring him down with you.

“It’s just a uniform, Zayne,” you smile innocently. “But if it bothers you that much… I could always take it off.”

Your doctor stares at you, his expression refusing to melt. Then he lets out a sigh. In the beat of a heart he’s up out of his chair, striding away from his desk, away from you.

“Zayne?”

Now he’s not listening. He’s by the door, taking his lab coat down from a hook and threading his arms through the sleeves. He fixes the cuffs, straightens it, but that’s where the motions of habit end. His fingers don’t make it to the buttons, and of course you notice; you’re not naïve.

Zayne turns to you, and there’s no disguising that look in his eyes and its common counterpart: a rare, inevitable smile. Complete surrender. He locks the door with a click.

Ha.

You were always going to win, weren’t you?

[yan-lorkai]

Heyyy! I hope you are doing well! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

I would like to request something!

Yan!Crowley with a darling who is his secretary! I hope you're comfortable with writing romantic stuff with the staff. If not then please ignore this request. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Stay safe and don't forget to stay hydrated! Byeee ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: This is my first Crowley request so I hope I wrote him right. Enjoy ~

Working as Dire Crowley’s secretary is a whirlwind of chaos, exasperation, and somehow endearment. On the surface, he’s an eccentric, bumbling headmaster who constantly piles his endless workload onto you while waxing poetic about how invaluable you are to him.

He often forgets appointments, dodges responsibilities, and somehow manages to create more paperwork for you with every half-baked plan he devises - it's like you are the headmaster and he is your secretary.

And yet, despite the frustration, you stay. Maybe it’s because you’ve grown used to the rhythm of his antics, or maybe it’s because he always finds a way to charm you into sticking around. He praises you endlessly, often with overly dramatic flair, declaring that no one could ever replace you. At first, you thought it was just his usual theatrics, but as time went on, you began to notice the subtle possessiveness behind his words.

Crowley has a way of making you feel both indispensable and trapped. If you so much as hint at being overwhelmed or mention needing time off, he panics. He flutters around you, begging for forgiveness and insisting he couldn’t possibly survive a day without you.

"What would this school do without my brilliant secretary?" He laments, clutching his chest like you’ve just stabbed him thirty times. "No, no, no! You must stay! For the sake of the academy and my sanity as well!"

His behavior grows more suffocating the closer you get to him. He begins to rely on you not just professionally but personally, pulling you into his orbit with every request and manufactured crisis. It’s not uncommon for him to call you into his office for “urgent matters” that turn out to be little more than an excuse to chat or keep you near him.

Despite his shortcomings, Crowley is remarkably attentive when it comes to you. He knows your favorite tea, the way you like your workspace organized, and even small details like how you tap your pen when you’re frustrated. He uses this knowledge to ingratiate himself further, always appearing with a solution or a grand gesture at just the right time.

The turning point comes when he starts making subtle comments about your interactions with others. If you spend too long talking to a student or a staff member, his demeanor shifts. The usually jovial headmaster becomes uncharacteristically quiet, his golden eyes watching you intently. Later, he’ll casually bring up the encounter, his tone light but his words carefully chosen to sow doubt or guilt.

"Ah, I see you’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Trein lately," he’ll say, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "I do hope you’re not neglecting your duties with me, dear secretary. After all, no one understands you like I do."

Over time, his antics escalate. He begins orchestrating situations to isolate you, ensuring you spend more time with him and less with others. The line between professional and personal blurs further as he starts calling you by affectionate nicknames, brushing off your protests with a laugh.

"My dear, you work far too hard," he coos one evening, handing you a cup of tea he made himself. "Allow me to take care of you. After all, you take such good care of me."

Though his behavior is overwhelming, there’s a strange comfort in his constant attention. He’s unpredictable and demanding, but he’s also fiercely protective and utterly devoted. And as much as you might want to escape the suffocating hold he has on you, a part of you wonders if anyone else could ever match the intensity of his obsession.

[lloovvv]

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL - how they celebrate it with you - multi x reader - headcanons

characters: Kamisato Ayaka, Wanderer, Furina, and Xiao

——————————————————————————————————

KAMISATO AYAKA -

• Ayaka adores the serene beauty of winter, so she might invite you for a stroll through the snow-covered streets of Inazuma or the Kamisato Estate gardens.

• She’ll hold your hand shyly, her cheeks dusted with pink as the two of you enjoy the frosty air.

• She would prepare special dishes like dango or miso soup with seasonal ingredients to keep you warm.

• Ayaka would put a lot of thought into her gift for you. It might be a hand-sewn scarf or a calligraphy piece with a heartfelt poem.

• She would be just as excited to see your reaction as she is nervous that you might not like it (though she tries to hide it).

• Despite her usual poise, Ayaka has a playful side. She might challenge you to a snowball fight, laughing sweetly when you surprise her with a sneak attack.

• If there’s a frozen pond nearby, she’d guide you through a graceful ice skating session, showing off her effortless elegance but cheering you on if you struggle.

• At the end of the day, you two would be lying in the comfort of her bed.

• She’d wrap a blanket around both of you, finding peace in the quiet intimacy.

• This is when she’d open up the most, expressing how much your presence means to her.

• She’d hum a soft melody, creating a memory she’d cherish forever.

——————————————————————————————————

WANDERER -

• Wanderer isn’t the type to actively embrace festive holidays, viewing them as frivolous at first.

• However, if you’re excited about Christmas, he’d begrudgingly go along with it—grumbling about how “pointless” it is while secretly enjoying your enthusiasm.

• His gifts would be unexpectedly thoughtful but wrapped in sarcasm. For example, he might gift you a warm coat, teasing you about always complaining about the cold.

• When you give him a present, he’d act indifferent, but the faintest smile would betray how much it means to him.

• If you insist on decorating together, he’d mock the whole process but still help out—often making snide comments like, “Why do humans like hanging shiny objects everywhere?”

• You’d catch him adjusting the decorations to perfection when he thinks you’re not looking.

• Wanderer isn’t big on crowds or loud celebrations, so he’d prefer to spend the evening with just you.

• He’d sit by the fire, occasionally tossing in witty remarks about holiday traditions, but his eyes would soften when you share your holiday memories.

• If you try to drag him outside for a snowball fight, he’d initially refuse, saying it’s beneath him.

• Eventually, he’d relent—and once he does, he’d be annoyingly good at it, dodging every snowball you throw and smirking the whole time.

• Despite his teasing, he’d let you win in the end, though he’d never admit it.

• Christmas would bring out a reflective side of him. While he’d never say it outright, he’d hint at how he cherishes having you in his life.

• In rare moments of vulnerability, he might let you see his softer side, admitting that spending the holiday with you makes it bearable—even enjoyable.

• If you suggest cooking together, Wanderer would scoff, claiming he doesn’t need food, so why bother?

• But if you persist, he’d eventually help — albeit with sarcastic comments.

• By the end of the day, when everything is quiet, he’d let down his guard and show a genuine smile—a rare and precious sight.

• “You’re lucky you managed to drag me into this,” he’d say, before adding quietly, “But I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

——————————————————————————————————

FURINA -

• Furina would insist on making Christmas a grand event, full of flair and drama. She’d plan an elaborate celebration, complete with a beautifully decorated tree, ornate lights, and a luxurious feast.

• She’d take charge of the preparations, even if she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing, because she wants it to be perfect.

• Furina would constantly seek your attention during the holiday, making sure you notice all the effort she put into the decorations or her carefully chosen outfit.

• “Y/N, doesn’t this outfit look dazzling? Of course, it does—only I could pull off such elegance on Christmas!”

• She’d turn gift-giving into a contest, wanting to outdo you with the most extravagant and meaningful present.

• Her gift might be something over-the-top, like a rare jewel or a custom-made piece of art that reminds her of you.

• She’d act smug when you open it but would blush when you give her something heartfelt in return.

• Decorating the tree with Furina would be a theatrical affair. She’d dramatically declare that she should place the star on top because she’s “the brightest star in Fontaine.”

• If you challenge her, she’d make a big fuss but secretly enjoy the playful banter.

• Furina would love the idea of ice skating, insisting on showing off her “graceful moves.”

• In reality, she might stumble a bit, but she’d laugh it off and pretend it was all part of the show.

• She’d be thrilled if you held her hand to guide her, though she’d make a big deal about it: “Oh, so you want to hold hands with me? Very well, I’ll allow it.”

• A snowball fight with Furina would feel like a grand courtroom battle. She’d declare herself the “Supreme Commander of Snow” and make every throw with flair.

• If you manage to hit her with a snowball, she’d feign a dramatic fall, claiming you’ve “betrayed the Hydro Archon.”

• Furina would insist on staying up until midnight to celebrate the official start of Christmas Day. She’d drag you outside to admire the stars and make a wish together.

• “If you don’t wish for more time with me, I’ll be very upset,” she’d tease, though her eyes would betray her sincerity.

• Furina might decide to bake Christmas treats with you but would approach it with overconfidence, leading to chaos in the kitchen.

• Even if things go wrong, she’d laugh it off and blame the recipe, saying, “Clearly, it’s not my fault. Who writes these instructions anyway?”

• At the end of the day, Furina would pull you aside for a private moment. She’d hold your hands, her usual theatrical demeanor softening as she says, “I’ve had many performances, but this one, with you, might be my favorite.”

• She’d make it clear, in her own unique way, that you’re the highlight of her holiday.

——————————————————————————————————

XIAO -

• Xiao isn’t one for holidays or celebrations, finding them unnecessary distractions.

• However, if you express how much Christmas means to you, he’d agree to participate—though his discomfort would be obvious at first.

• Xiao wouldn’t understand the point of extravagant decorations, but he’d help you set them up if you asked.

• He might hang a single ornament on the tree, stepping back and saying, “That’s enough, right?” You’d have to gently coax him into adding more.

• Xiao wouldn’t think about getting a gift until the last minute, but he’d put his heart into it. It might be something simple yet meaningful, like a handmade talisman for your protection.

• When you give him a present, he’d be flustered, not knowing how to react. “You didn’t have to do this,” he’d murmur, though his softened expression would show how much he appreciates it.

• Rather than actively celebrating, Xiao would focus on ensuring your safety and comfort during the festivities.

• He’d stay nearby, silently keeping an eye on you while pretending he’s not part of the celebration.

• Xiao would prefer to spend Christmas in a quiet, serene setting. He might take you to Wangshu Inn, where the two of you could enjoy the tranquil view of the illuminated landscape.

• If you try to get him involved in a snowball fight, Xiao would initially decline, saying, “That’s not necessary.”

• But if you’re persistent, he’d eventually join in, using his speed and precision to effortlessly dodge or land snowballs.

• He’d let a rare smile slip when he sees you laughing, though he’d quickly compose himself.

• Xiao isn’t big on physical affection, but he’d make sure you’re warm and safe, buying and silently placing a scarf around your neck or pulling you closer to his side if it’s cold.

• If you thank him, he’d look away and mutter, “It’s nothing.”

• Xiao would be hesitant to try Christmas treats, as he’s not used to indulging in such things.

• If you insist, he’d take a small bite and offer a neutral comment like, “It’s… acceptable.” But if he secretly enjoys it, you might catch him sneaking another bite later.

• At the end of the day, Xiao would admit in a quiet voice, “I don’t understand these traditions… but if it makes you happy, I’m glad I could be here with you.”

• He’d linger by your side, taking in the peaceful atmosphere and silently cherishing the moment you’ve shared.

——————————————————————————————————

[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Jude Jazza END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

When I reached out, it was Jude’s hand I took.

Jude: If ya let go of me, I won’t letcha off.

Kate: Okay!

He makes me stand up, and kicks away all those attacking me, one after the other.

Jude: Tch, what kind of management do they have to be so hated like this?

Kate: Should YOU be the one to say that about other people?!

Jude: Don’t say unnecessary things!

The ones who attacked me were thin, and looked very poor.

They’re people who’ve lost something very important to them through gambling.

Even if I do sympathize with them a little, it’s never an excuse to draw deadly weapons.

Jude: Run!

Punching and kicking, he defeats his enemies one after the other, pulling me along strongly, and as we head for the door, we dodge bullets in the thick black smoke.

As we left the casino, explosions sounded behind us.

We kept running until we reached a nearby port.

Jude: I’m havin’ a real shitty day.

Kate: Is it okay now?

Our fastened hands were easily released, and the warmth of my right hand cooled quickly.

Feeling a bit lonely, I opened my mouth to gloss it over.

Kate: In the end, we didn’t collect any evidence.

Jude: There’s evidence.

Kate: What?

I’m not sure where he got it from, but holding a thick ledger in his hands, he handed it to me.

When I looked inside, I saw things other than money that had been wagered in the casino so far, and a list of customers who received them alongside Viscount Smith’s signature.

Kate: When did you get this?!

Jude: Took it from that damned Viscount when the explosion happened.

(I couldn’t see because of the smoke, but I guess that’s what happened.)

Based on the overwhelming evidence, the casino will be brought to justice before her Majesty the Queen.

Just as I was feeling relieved over completing the mission, I suddenly remembered something.

Kate: If I had known that I was being used for collateral, I would’ve bet….

(I knew that Jude would win…..)

Then he made a disgusted expression…..

Jude: Our princess doesn’t seemta understand why she was prohibited.

As we stood facing each other, the sea breeze blew through his hair.

Jude: Ain’t no way someone who shows their emotions so easily could win.

Jude: Imagine how much a young woman without much money would hafta pay if she lost?

(Ah…..)

I recall the words of Viscount Smith and realize.

(Selling my body, experiencing atrocious things, the worst case scenario….)

A chill ran down my spine as I realized how naive I’d been.

The client list had records of women and children being sold, and I finally understood those repeated words had been for my sake.

(Jude said that he’d protect me.)

Feeling mixed emotions of his kindness and my own naivete, i bit my lip and looked down, but when his shoes came into view, I looked up.

Jude: Really, cantcha say thanks to the person who saved ya?

Kate: …! Thank you.

When I expressed my gratitude to him, who is foul-mouthed but kind,

Jude: Seems like Crown’s Fairytale Keeper has grown attached to the admirable Vogel.

Jude: Kissin’ the winner. I think ya wanted that bad personality.

Kate: That’s something Nica said on his own,

Jude: Such good friends that yer on a first name basis. (Jude’s angy face.)

His raised voice and pouty expression, seemed to indicate he was in a bad mood.

Jude: I mean, is the princess even bold ‘nuff to kiss a man herself.

Upset with his making fun of me, I confronted him.

Kate: It’s just a kiss, I can do it.

Jude: If so, then I’ll betcha won’t.

Kate: If I can kiss you?

Jude: I’ll do anythin’ ya say. Probably impossible anyway.

He’s so confident I can’t do it despite my enthusiasm.

We faced and stared at each other for a while,

(Where should I kiss him……) T-T on the lips.

I looked at his lips, but didn’t have the courage, so I felt conflicted,

Jude: ….Ridiculous. (I’m with him on this one.)

He turned on heel and walked away.

Kate: W-wait a minute!

I quickly grabbed his arm and stood on my tip toes as he looked back at me,

Jude: Huh?

I kissed his forehead.

Kate: ….I kissed you.

Kate: Now, please listen to what I have to say.

He put his hand to his forehead, his eyes slightly open,

Kate: I’m Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, not Vogel’s Fairytale Keeper!

Starting to feel embarrassed, I ran past him.

Kate: That’s why I’m going home!

A few seconds later, with the sound of him turning around, only one word was heard.

Jude: Kid.

(He’s making fun of me again…..!)

When I turned to say something back, I saw the softest expression on his face.

Kate: Huh……

It was as warm as sunlight, and it was the first time I’d seen it.

It felt like time had stopped for a moment,

Jude: What kinda dumb look are ya makin’?

His grumpy face returned immediately.

Jude: Hurry ‘n go home.

He started walking and I followed him quickly.

Kate: Please wait!

Perhaps the reason why I didn’t stand next to the swinging jacket that was a step ahead of me, was because the excitement I felt still hadn’t gone away.

[Master List] [Jude Epilogue]

Heh, jelly Jude. Pouty Jude. More of that please.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

[sungjinwoouff]

hard to impress, i. | sung jinwoo

where you fail to catch his attention countless of times.

pure fluff, harsh words, may be a tiny bit ooc.

note - not sure if this has been done yet, but i sincerely apologize if it has.

you were an a-rank archer, often working with other high rank hunters in raiding various gates. getting a chance to work with the most famous hunters of south korea wasn’t a rare event, although you haven’t gotten your rise in popularity yourself. you didn’t mind though, because you enjoyed the more private and personal life without having to worry about what the public thinks of you.

you’ve once had the chance to raid a dungeon with the usual team of b to a-rank hunters — only this time, you were being supervised by the famous 10th s-rank hunter of south korea, sung jinwoo. being the hardworking archer that you are, you promised yourself that you would at least impress him with your skills.

it was a normal raid, fighting hobgoblins and taking whatever loot you could find, leaving the rest to the mining team. during the battle with the dungeon’s boss, you managed to land multiple arrows on the cold-blooded hobgoblin’s head, no doubt dealing the most damage to said boss. you had hoped that was enough to gain praise from sung jinwoo himself, but to your dismay, he had said nothing. granted, he was fighting a mob of the boss’ minions himself, so he might have not noticed your great achievement. still, it disappointed you just a little, making you realize that maybe jinwoo was hard to impress.

that maybe, you needed to do that more than once for him to notice you. but how? you thought you’d never meet him again after that raid had ended.

you were yet again proven wrong when you were called in the following week for another raid. as always you didn't think much about it, until you caught sight of a familiar face talking to one of the hunters joining your raid. your heart started beating quicker than usual, your determination growing as you realized that you had another chance at impressing someone so intimidating and prestigious.

the group entered the dungeon and it went as smooth as it could have, with you contributing to the most damage given to the boss. you felt proud of yourself, gaining praises from your comrades, but nothing from jinwoo.

upon leaving the dungeon, one of the higher-ups from the surveillance team was standing there waiting for them, or at least that's what you thought.

his eyes immediately landed on jinwoo as he exited the gate last out of all of you. the man walked over to jinwoo and talked quietly to him about something, with jinwoo muttering a few words in response. you watched their conversation from afar for a while before turning around and heading home, tired from the raid.

weeks turned into months and you've done countless raids, which was not surprising, since you are a high ranking hunter. the odd thing was that sung jinwoo happened to supervise every single raid you've been called to.

in the beginning, you thought that maybe it was just a couple of coincidences in a row. though after a while, you realized that there must be so many more raids going on all throughout seoul, so there really was little to no chance for you to meet him so many times. what's worse, he seems to never take notice of you, no matter what you do. not even when you narrowly dodged an attack from the boss, not when you continued giving your all despite being injured, not even when you were able to defeat enemies quicker than your peers. nothing seemed to gain his attention, let alone his praise.

you're beginning to think that he's just an arrogant asshole.

—

"hello?" you answer into your phone that's been ringing only for a few seconds, as you already read who had been calling — a higher-up from your guild.

you purse your lips and hold back a sigh, hearing the words you already guessed you would hear. you were called to yet another raid. it's a good thing you had just finished your lunch, because then you'd be filled with energy for the whole raid which will no doubt last a couple of hours.

you had a strong feeling jinwoo would be there again, but this time, you aren’t determined to impress him like before. you have chosen to give up last night when you were eating dinner while watching a movie. you feel it was useless, as anything you did failed to gain the s-rank hunters attention.

who were you kidding, you are just a mere a-rank hunter, of course sung jinwoo wouldn’t bat an eye at you.

letting out a sigh, you grab the coat hanging behind the front door to your apartment and put it on before leaving. the gate you're heading to requires you to take the underground subway through a few stops, but you don't mind. it's a peaceful ride as always, with most people already at their offices, working. the peace gave you time to ready yourself, mentally preparing for the worst-case scenario, thinking through backup plans like you usually do.

you finally reach your station, immediately hurrying out of the car, tapping your card on the gate, and rushing up the escalator. upon reaching the surface, you could already see the crowd of hunters waiting to enter the gate, including sung jinwoo himself.

you approach the group, smiling as they greet you cheerily like they always do. though this time, unlike before, you feel eyes on you. you scan the area around you while continuing your conversation with the other hunters, but you don't see anything or anyone odd.

"come on, we're ready to go in now." one of the hunters nearest to the gate called out, cutting your conversation short.

you take a deep breath and nod, following the others, being the second to last one to enter. sung jinwoo was right behind you, watching quietly as always, but you paid him no mind despite feeling your heartbeat rise in pace.

the dungeon is a snowy forest, meaning you had to fight some ice bears, something you were familiar with.

that feeling of familiarity quickly disappeared though, as the atmosphere suddenly changed drastically, sending shivers all throughout your body — and it wasn't because of the cold.

"something's off," you call out, earning sounds of agreement from the other hunters.

you open your mouth to continue your words but you're stopped abruptly by a harsh wind blowing against you, making you nearly lose your balance. you quickly recollect yourself, realizing that the gush of wind was caused by jinwoo, who suddenly appeared right in front of you in a protective stance, seeming to hold something right in front of his face.

"ice elves," he muttered. "it's a red gate."

you couldn't even register the fact that that was the first time you've ever heard jinwoo speak up close, fear and panic coursing through your veins. never in your life have you stepped foot in a red gate, playing it safe. you've never seen what an ice elf even is, yet by the way it had shot that arrow without you noticing as an archer yourself, you know for a fact that it must be at least a s-rank monster and could kill you in one shot if it wasn't for jinwoo protecting you.

wait... protected you?

another rush of arrows attacked the group, but you didn't have time to see anything before the arrows shot toward you were suddenly cut in half. this time you see jinwoo with a dagger in hand, and you immediately knew that he is the one who cut them before they reached you.

"is... is everyone okay?" you call out, peeking from behind jinwoo's tall frame to see some of the hunters crouching, while the others stand with fear, seeming to have just barely dodged the arrows.

"they're okay," jinwoo answers you on their behalf, turning his head slightly to look at you. "are you?"

your eyes widen as the stare back at his, you feel the heat rushing to your face but you brush it off. "i-i am. thank you."

you could swear you see the ghost of a smile appear upon his features just before he returns his attention to the trees in front of him.

"i'd suggest you close your eyes." he says, right before his entire body emits a dark purple glow. you gasp, watching as multiple shadows arise from the ground and form the shape of knights and hobgoblins, of everything you have ever fought before.

you ignore his suggestion and watch in shock as the shadows you saw finally move, moving so quickly they practically teleported into the trees, to which you assume is to defeat the ice elves that were hiding. screeches of those intelligent yet sly creatures were heard soon after, alerting everyone yet again.

jinwoo turns, facing you. he sees the way you stare into the trees as the shadows eliminate the beasts, not a single trace of fear seen on your face. he felt something as he admired you, something approaching him quickly from behind, but as he moves to slash at whatever it was, an arrow hit it before he could.

a thud was heard as the ice elf's body hit the ground, an arrow in its head. jinwoo returns his gaze to you, who is holding your bow with a small smile on your face.

"hunter sung," you breath out, "i just saved you."

jinwoo let a small laugh out, a grin pulling at his lips. your moment is disrupted when suddenly a hunter screamed, and as you both turned to look at him, you realize some ice elves had escaped jinwoo's shadows and started attacking your group.

"we'll continue this later." jinwoo says, glancing at you before charging at a group of ice elves himself.

you watch him go before finally regaining your composure and focus, counting on your newly found bravery to fight higher rank monsters, proving your worth as an a-rank hunter.

—

by the time you and the other hunters step out of the red gate, the moon is well above your heads, but a small crowd had formed. you realize that they are hunters from the association, probably sent to monitor the gate while you were all inside and to standby as back up if they were needed.

your squad leader had let you all leave as he reported to the hunter's association representative, and you were all too ready to head home and call it a day — but a certain tall ebony-haired hunter had placed his hand on your shoulder.

"excuse me," he says as you turn around to face him. "if you don't mind, i'd like to talk to you some more."

your heartbeat quickens as you listen to him.

"are you perhaps free tomorrow afternoon? i'll treat you to lunch, if you'd like." he continues, a warm smile decorating his usually-cold features.

your eyes widen the slightest bit, not believing that the person you've been trying to impress this whole time is practically asking you out on a date.

"um... yeah, sure," you lose your composure and confident tone for a bit, but you don't mind. "i'd love to."

jinwoo's smile widens.

"great, i'll see you tomorrow."

[itstimetojellyfish]

Rest, I’ll watch over you . ( Jiyan x reader)

so….. this is another fic! I really hope you enjoy!

You have to run .

The Tacet Dicords are increasing in waves .

No, why would you run? Don’t you have people to tend to? The soldiers need help , you are the only medic on filed . You cannot run . You must help others .

So you do , you bolt around , dodging Tacet Dicords lunging at you . You continue to help others , tugging them ,holding them , healing them .

After the same cycle repeats over and over again , you get used to it , settling in .

That was a mistake .

You weren’t so lucky now . The Tacet Dicords came upon you in waves , you struggle weaving around them trying not to get injured . You manage to survive for a while , but too soon , your legs collapse and the world goes black , the only thing you saw was every monster out for your blood .

Was it a peaceful dream? Did you have a dream? You can’t remember.

You drift in and out of consciousness, voices talking constantly. Yet , in your haze , you can always hear that voice , always . The warm , soft gentle voice you always heard when they would comfort you , or hold you in their arms , or praise you . Who was it? It’s on the tip of your tongue…..

Ah …. Now you remember…. It’s your lover , Jiyan ….You could never forget his teal hair and warm voice . How could you?

But…. This doesn’t sound like him … he sounds worried… that’s not good…. Why? Is it because of you?… How sweet , but he doesn’t need to worry .

Deciding that you’ve been keeping him distressed long enough , you attempt to open your eyes and stop studying the back of your eye lids .

That didn’t turn out well .

You were greeted with a blinding light that sliced through your nerves and left you defenseless against the searing laser that burned your eyes.

You groans and tried to move your hand to block your face and save you from the searing light , but to your surprise, instead of your hand that covered your eyes , a hand clad in gold armor covered your face for you .

You looked around to see soft honey eyes looking back at you with such worry .

You reach for him only to be met with a burning pain . Wincing you look at your arm , only to almost puke .

Burned to a molten red with multiple scars around it , some flesh poking out while the rest curled in unnaturally . You looked away immediately. Would Jiyan not like you anymore?…..

As if he knew what you were thinking , he gently rubbed his hand across your arm , avoiding the wounds , as he kissed your forehead , gently murmuring sweet nothings .

“ Dear… please don’t worry , I’ll love you no matter what , if anything , I love you even more for attempting to help others . “ His voice was sweet at first , but then it hardened . “ However , I will not allow you back onto the battlefield. Your arm has retained multiple damages and it’s likely your nerves will not work properly… You can’t ever do that again . “

His voice wavers as he gives in and places his head on your collarbone . “ You made me worry so much ….”

Your eyes soften .

“ I’m so sorry for worrying you …” You attempt to soothe his nerves but then he raises his head and places his lips on yours .

“ It’s okay, just please… don’t ever do that” He nuzzles your neck gently , careful to avoid touching any wounds as he pampers you in affection.

Soon enough, you begin to tire as your body gives up because of how much time you’ve spent awake .

Your lover notices your eyes threatening to close and reassures you . “ Don’t worry , rest now . I’ll be here when you wake up .“

He gently takes hold of the hand that isn’t injured and kisses it . He then pets your head and gently kisses your cheek .

“Rest , I’ll watch over you “

————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this thing! I really don’t have anyone to proof-read this and give any opinions on it so critique is welcomed!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skellys with s/o who’s constantly cold, so they’re Always cuddling up to them

Undertale Sans - He barely lifts his head from his napping spot to see what's going on, pats your head, and goes back to sleep. You'll probably wake up with Sans's butt on your face though, he moves a lot when he sleeps. At your own risk.

Undertale Papyrus - He is actually really happy as Papyrus doesn't like to be too far from his S/O. It makes him feel safer to have you close so he knows where you are. Though he has to cook so he kinda picks you up on his back like a koala sometimes. Sometimes, you have to share his back with Sans too. He's not too happy about you taking his favorite cuddle nap spot you know.

Underswap Sans - He whines and wiggles out of your reach every time. If he's in a good mood, he might throw you a blanket or yeets you to Honey but that's his max. He doesn't like to cuddle for too long, he has too many things to do during the day for that!

Underswap Papyrus - Please yes! Honey is cold all the time as well so hanging in his bed under three blankets is like his dream date. You can watch a Disney movie and eat things Blue forbids you two to touch together! Honey is a giant cuddler so he will never say no to that.

Underfell Sans - He rolls his eyes at you as you cling to him but he doesn't make any gesture to push you either. He will grabby grab your butt or your boobs at some point though, be careful. Too much temptation.

Underfell Papyrus - He stiffs completely as you grab him, then hisses at you. Your hands are COLD! Now he's cold too! How dare you do that to him. He was relaxing just fine! Now his rest is ruined! He leaves dramatically, then comes back two seconds later because he forgot his cat, then leaves again dramatically.

Horrortale Sans - He starts the purring machine, moving a little to give you more place. And once you're settled he's kidnapping and locking you in his hoodie so you two can cuddle for long hours. Be careful of the head butts. He loves to head butt his S/O to show affection.

Horrortale Papyrus - He scolds you for joining him in his medical bed but he's glad you're here to cuddle actually. Willow nuzzles against you and holds you close, feeling safe. It's rare to see him fully relaxing.

Swapfell Sans - It depends on the moment of the day. In the morning, he will growl at you and push you away, but in the evening after a long day of work, Nox is just melting against you and nuzzling in your neck. He's craving for affection, but when he decides it.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's always up for some cuddles. However, do not forget that Rus gets bored really fast and that when Rus gets bored, he can cause some mischief to not get bored anymore. Like drawing on your face while you're sleeping. Or bury you under a mountain of plushie. Or fill your pockets with random rubber duckies... At your own risk.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He gives you the bombastic side eyes every time you're getting too close to him lol. Don't even think about it. He hates hugs. He hates being too hot because people are hugging him as well. He throws a blanket at your face before you have a chance to touch him. If you manage to dodge, he's going to throw his hand in your face to keep you at a safe distance lol. You can't pass his defenses, sadly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You swear he makes the room colder on purpose because every time you shiver, you find him already in bed, looking super excited, under a warm blanket, waiting for you. That's way too suspicious.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Changed some numbers for this AU but yeah, ALL LITTLE SIBLINGS ARE NOW OLDER AND THEY'RE TND OPERATIVES!!!

Penny's there too because I say so. :3

Roles:

#363: Leader no one can stand, but at least he knows what he's doing... for the most part. Still, everyone wonders how he managed to get into the TND in first place since no one wants him around... welp. Older brother of Numbuh 362. The two can't stand each other and Rachel avoids him like the plague. He always screams at her.

#T: 2x4 technology expert, pilot and hacker. He knows any technology around. Sometimes you can catch him play some games when they have nothing to do. Never leaves without his C.E.L.L.P.H.O.N.E. (Compact Electronic Line Linking Pathway Holds Outer Network Expansion). Mostly silent, very chill, keeps to himself. Can't stand Mushi more than Harvey, if you can believe that.

Older brother of Hoagie Gilligan, aka Numbuh 2. The kid loves him and wants to hang out with him more but, as any teenager would, Tommy keeps him away from himself and his stuff and his room. But Hoagie knows he will know ALL his secrets, one day! Let's hope he doesn't find out he's also a TND spy in the Teen Ninja lines (he gets info from Father and passes it to KND, not a real bad guy!)...

#001: Second in command, everyone would prefer her to be the leader but... well. Very active teen, a bit of a tomboy, she's in charge to come up with plans and put them into action. Kids sometimes mistake her for a kid in a teen body.

Loves to skate, play videogames and dance. Works as a mermaid actor at the aquarium in the weekends. Dating Joey Beetles. Sometimes babysits Nigel Uno, who trusts her enough to ask his parents to adopt her so they can be siblings. She... actually loves the idea... but it's impossible.

#40: Weapon and combat expert, especially for sport related actions. Can't talk at all and speaks using his V.O.I.S. (Vocal Operator Imitating Sounds) to speak. Thanks to that, he can use any voice he manages to sample, kind of like an AI.

Very active, plays many sports and he's good at all of them, especially dodge ball. Dating Penelope Doe.

Older brother of Wallabee Beetles, aka Numbuh 4. The two used to be inseparable, but since Wally joined the KND, he kind of drifted away because "teens are the enemy". It broke Joey's heart but... what can you do.

#30: Spy extraordinaire and camouflage master. She can turn anyone into a different person in a make-up session. Someone might say she's too good at that... like she's hiding something.

She's the school queen, a cheerleader, everyone wants to be associated with her. She's also very intelligent and good at art. She's perfect! But somehow, Tommy doesn't like her. Nerds...

Older sister of Kuki Sanban, aka Numbuh 3. The two seem to be very close, playing together and sharing everything, from make-up to clothes (well, those that fit...).

Sometimes Kuki accidentally reveals her KND plans to her, eheh, so silly! Mushi always has a good laugh telling them to her team!

No, I'm not talking about the TND...

No one suspects anything. Not even Tommy, since she never revealed her face while working for Father.

[goodlucktai]

the soft animal of your body (1/3)

rise of the tmnt daemon au word count: 4k title borrowed from 'wild geese' by mary oliver

this au is the brainchild of myself and my dearest meeks, @gibbouslunation on ao3, @mykimouser on tumblr. it's inspired by 'his dark materials' but we're playing fast and loose with canon so please dont take it too seriously <3

the daemons so far !

read on ao3

x

“Mikey,” a persistent voice says, “wake up!”

“Mmmmno,” he mumbles, rolling over. “Five more minutes.”

The mattress gives beneath him with a bounce and a furry body wriggles its way close, shoving a wet snout against Mikey’s cheek. He giggles despite himself and tries tugging the blanket over his head, but it’s caught carefully in a set of teeth, and a game of tug-o-war starts immediately. 

“I thought you wanted to make Raphie and Teddy’s favorites for breakfast this morning! If you sleep in there won’t be time!”

With a start, Mikey remembers the significance of the day and shoots upright. A second later, his arms are full of a very enthusiastic Border Collie. Helianthus is always excited to see him in the morning, like she didn’t just see him the night before. She’s always excited to see everyone, and Mikey both understands her and loves her with his whole entire soul. 

He gathers Sunflower’s head in both hands and kisses her firmly between the eyes. She holds as still as a statue until the deed is done and then explodes into action, licking his face like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, entire body wagging from the force of her happy tail. 

Dodging her affections and untangling himself from the blanket, Mikey manages to climb out of bed. He’d wanted a hammock when he was little, but when Sunny settled, it didn’t make sense to have a bed that was so tricky for her to get into and out of. 

She was the first of all his siblings’ daemons to settle, even April’s. She knows exactly who she is, and always has. 

“Breakfast!” he reminds her.

“Oh, right!” she says, and shoots out of the room like an arrow. 

A startled squawk in the kitchen probably means Donnie and Terror are up already, which probably means they pulled an all-nighter. And if they’re awake, their twins definitely are.

Leo’s relationship with sleep is hot and cold on a good day, but there isn’t a force on earth that could persuade him to lay around in bed while his counterparts were getting into trouble somewhere without him. 

Sure enough, Mikey rounds the corner to find the four of them clustered around the kitchen table. Lucky perks up when she sees Mikey, and waves with one of her tiny paws, and he takes that as full permission to swoop in and steal her from Leo. 

Leo smiles into his coffee mug and lets his little daemon be the one who says, “Good morning, Angie!”

She rubs her face against Mikey’s cheek, as outwardly affectionate and sweet as Leo likes to pretend he isn’t. 

“Good morning, Lucky girl,” Mikey tells her, giving the ringtail an extra squeeze before letting her climb nimbly up his shoulder and perch on the lip of his carapace. 

With his daemon already smothered in love, Leo leans into Mikey’s hug immediately, none of that new reluctance they’re all trying to maneuver present in any inch of him. That’s how you game the system. 

(April was surprised by it when they first met. She was nine years old at the time, and absolutely fearless about following her new friends to their subterranean home. She greeted Splinter with the brisk, unbothered attitude of any native New Yorker and was an order of magnitude more impressed by Yumemi, who landed on August’s head in greeting as gently and prettily as a snowflake. 

Mikey had been pretty sure that nothing on earth had the power to surprise this girl. 

But less than an hour into her visit, Terror had gotten into trouble, as usual. She was scampering up the cabinets as a red-knee tarantula, because she’d made a bet with Lucky that she was just as fast climbing as she was flying. But when she was little, Terror tripped over her feet constantly no matter what form she was in, and eight legs was way more than she was used to keeping track of.

A panicked little squeak was their only warning when Terror slipped from the top of the cabinet, and maybe she would have thought to shift in time not to get hurt or maybe she would have kept scrambling to catch herself. It didn’t matter either way, because Raph reached out with both hands and caught her in the cup of them, safe and sound. 

April had sucked in a startled breath, but the twins and their daemons all chorused, “Thanks, Raphie!” as he stood on tiptoe to place Castor carefully back in the spot she’d slipped from. And the spider raced off again, lesson totally unlearned. 

“It’s okay, she won’t fall again,” Mikey had piped up, six years old and completely misunderstanding April’s reaction. “Terror is super clumsy but after their game she’ll probably turn back into something that flies!”

“It’s not that,” April said, looking between Raph and Mikey and Teddy and Sunflower like she had just discovered something besides their green skin and turtle shells that made them very strange to her. “Didn’t it—feel bad? To hold someone else’s daemon?”

She hugged Augustus to her stomach like the thought of anyone getting too close to him was enough to upset her. 

But Raph tilted his head in confusion and Teddy, a fluffy baby cow at the time, tilted hers with him. “It felt the same as holding mine,” he said. 

Any silly scampering part of Donnie was a part of Raph, too. Obviously. 

They hadn’t known it was anything strange growing up, as insular as their family was. Of course, they hadn’t known about their ninpo back then, either—that secret mystical connection they inherited the second Splinter became their father, that tied them all together, that made their souls neighbors to each other. 

And only a few years down the road, on a random summer afternoon in a busy comic book convention hall, when the big crowds were causing Teddy to shrink into a miserable little ball on Raph’s shoulder, April would say, “Come here, baby.” 

She wouldn’t overthink it or second-guess herself when Theodora crawled into her arms, even though a random kid in the crowd who clocked the exchange would do a comical double take. She would just scoop her little sister up and make her feel safe, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Because by then, April would be Hamato, too.)

While Leo’s occupied, Terror hops across the table and dips her beak into his cup. He clocks it and sighs deeply but doesn’t wave her away. 

Terror can get away with most things by virtue of being able to out-talk literally anyone, or by simply flying around like a maniac until her siblings get tired of trying to scold her and move onto damage control instead. 

“It’s not my fault your coffee tastes better,” she complains, feathers ruffled. “Donnie’s still trying to pretend like he likes to drink his black, and it’s gross!”

Sunflower laughs out loud, then tries to pretend like she didn’t. Donnie’s head snaps up from where he had it buried in his phone, an expression of theatrical betrayal painted across his face. 

“Castor!”

“Buy my silence! Use some syrup and creamer!” the hooded crow screeches back. 

Leo is giggling too, slumping down in his chair so he won’t be Donnie’s next target, and Pollux springs from Mikey’s shell on his way past the table to rejoin her person. She has her own little cup of coffee but she dips her weasel-like snout into Leo’s instead, because whatever Terror does, Lucky wants to do. 

“Good morning, Michelangelo,” a melodious voice greets him as he ties his apron on. 

Mikey beams at the little moth perched on the upright handle of a wooden spoon and says, “‘Morning, Emi. Did either of those bozos make you tea yet?”

The moth hums, an amused, affectionate sound. “Yes, my dear. They’ve been awake for an unfortunately long time already.”

“Ugh, that’s what I was afraid of,” Mikey grumbles, but his heart isn’t really in it. There’s no sunlight in the lair, but the company of his dad’s daemon is warm and bright all on its own. 

Yumemi is all the parts of Yoshi he doesn’t know how to express. Even back when his bad days could turn into bad weeks and he couldn’t muster the strength to get out of bed, his children never had the opportunity to question his love.

Not when Yumemi remembered all of their favorite things, and oversaw meals with watchful eyes to make sure everyone was eating their vegetables, and woke them from bad dreams with lullaby soft Japanese that needed no translation. 

Of course dad loved them. His soul was proof. She told them every day. 

Since he’d prepared the batter the night before, Mikey makes a decent headway on breakfast and has a tall stack of thin, flaky crêpes to show for it by the time Raph and Theodora wander in. 

They look surprised and then pleased to see everybody waiting for them, smiling at the lively chorus of “good morning”s and “happy birthday”s they’re accosted with right out of the gate. Terror is quick to flap around them at speed, talking a mile a minute, and it detracts from the weird bit of tension between Raph and Leo that still exists in the margins. 

Lucky quivers eagerly where she’s perched at the corner of the table, uncertain of her welcome and waiting on a cue. But the second Raph puts his hands out for her, she’s leaping into them. 

“Happy birthday Raphie, Teddy! We picked out the best best best presents for you!”

“We helped!” Terror interjects, incapable of being sidelined, or silent for longer than thirty seconds. “It was a team effort!”

“With all four of your heads together, I bet it’ll blow us away,” Raph says, gentle in that particular way he saves just for little siblings. 

To his credit, he doesn’t hesitate at all to pull Leo into a sidelong hug at the same time as he does Donnie in the opposite arm, and Leo sinks into it readily. Things have been a little weird and different, but not necessarily bad. 

When you can hold each other’s hearts in your hands on the regular, it’s hard to miss how loved you are. 

(About a week after Splinter’s abrupt announcement two years ago, shifting the leadership mantle from Raph, who had always held it, to Leo, who had never given indication he even wanted it, things were tense, to say the very least. 

Yumemi was downright chilly with her other half in a way Mikey hadn’t witnessed since the disastrous flu incident when they were kids, that time Donnie’s fever had to officially break 101° before Splinter could be convinced that Something Was Wrong.  

And unfortunately for dad, Leo had decided he was fully not on board with the decision, being his most contrary, uncooperative self at every turn. You have never seen malicious compliance until you’ve seen Leonardo with a point to prove. 

It all came to a head in a big blowout argument that really everyone should have seen coming. 

Looking back, Mikey doesn’t remember what started the fight, but it had been festering for days. Raphael was frustrated and his feelings were hurt. He’s been replaced out of nowhere, and his replacement didn’t seem to care about the job one way or another. 

And to make matters worse, Leo almost seemed to be baiting him. He had his arms folded and his hip propped in the doorway, a mean little smile on his face that Mikey almost didn’t recognize—he had never, ever seen Leo smile like that at Raph before. 

“Can’t you take something seriously for once in your life?” Raph said, fists clenched at his sides. “This is important and you’re acting like you don’t even care.”

“I think it’s safe to say you care enough for both of us,” Leo replied blithely, unmoved. 

Mikey felt a sharp spike of worry from Sunflower, who was reading all the high emotions in the room like a book. Teddy was still trying to mediate, but her soft voice got shouted over. 

“What if you goof off and one of your siblings gets hurt, huh?” Raph yelled, at his limit. “What if somebody gets killed cause you couldn’t bother to just grow up!”

Leo’s expression didn’t change at all, every inch the irreverent, unbothered teenager fully prepared to breeze past everything his big brother had to throw at him. 

But Lucky burst into tears. 

It drew everyone up short. The entire room just froze, like someone took an ill-timed screenshot. The only sound was Lucky crying, and then the scrabble of nails on concrete as Sunny raced across the room at top speed to comfort her, and Terror clicking her beat anxiously, all puffed up to twice her size. 

Raph looked like someone punched him in the stomach. Leo didn’t look at anyone at all. At least his mean little smile was gone. 

“Okay, boys and girls,” Yumemi said suddenly, startling them all out of the tense tableau. She was perched on the back of a kitchen chair, having observed the argument for who knew how long. Long enough, probably. “Family room, now.”

She was using the no-nonsense mom voice that got everyone moving. Seemingly between one blink and the next Mikey found himself on the sofa, Sunflower pressed into his side and panting anxiously. 

“I won’t pretend not to know what this is about,” the moth says. “Yoshi has certainly spent the last few days hoping it would resolve itself before intervention was necessary, but that clearly isn’t the case, and I’ve let this go on for too long.”

She wasn’t scolding them. She had a soft spot for her turtles and their daemons that was a mile wide on all sides. But she clearly expected to resolve this issue right then and there and wouldn’t tolerate the usual time-wasting tactics. 

Beating everyone to the punch, Terror bated her wings and blurted, “They don’t want to be the leaders, duh.”

After a beat of silence that felt extremely loud, Donnie added, “I would have thought that was obvious.”

Raph seemed shocked and Mikey felt that way too. Their whole lives together were a multi-part series of Leo stepping up and smoothing things over when they got out of hand, convincing his brothers to wait half a second instead of diving right in, scheming a way to get them out of trouble—or into trouble, as the situation called for it. He always seemed to live for it when a plan went off without a hitch. 

Mikey had never thought about it before, but now that it was laid out in front of him, it was weird. You’d think Leo would jump at the chance to lead. 

“It’s not really my bag,” Leo said instead. He had a hand on Pollux, almost hiding her completely. “All that extra work and responsibility, and not even a decent pay raise? No thanks. Besides, Raph does a great job. Why fix what isn’t broken?”

He refused to bend, sticking to his story. Knowing she was the weaker link, Lucky pressed her face into his plastron and wouldn’t answer any direct questions. Raphael looked like he was afraid to even breathe too loudly in their direction after making his littlest sister cry, and nodded rapidly when Yumemi asked if he was alright with things going back to the way they used to be. 

“Yeah. Of course. Whatever—whatever’s best.”

The moth sighed, but not at any of them. 

“Very well. I will speak with your father. He was wrong to handle this the way he did. Any future changes will be discussed beforehand, as a family. As for right now, Raphael is the eldest and he will continue to lead you.” 

Leo was out of his chair and out of the room so fast that Mikey wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t teleport. Donnie followed right behind him, their regular roles flipped. Raph didn’t move at all, hands squished between his own knees as if he didn’t trust them. 

Teddy was talking to him in her gentle voice. It was always so obvious to everyone who knew him why Raph’s soul took the shape it did, this soft thing that carried around a love so big it was better suited to someone ten times her size. 

Mikey couldn’t hear what Teddy was saying, but it wasn’t for him to hear in the first place. He couldn’t bear to leave his big brother like this, but he couldn’t bear to leave another brother hurting out of sight either.

Their bond pulsing both ways with white-hot worry and impatient, leaping love, Mikey could tell when Sunflower absolutely couldn’t wait another second. She hopped off the couch and circled around to where Raph was sitting and laid her head on his knee. 

It was delayed, but still a knee-jerk reaction for their biggest brother to give her the attention she was begging for. After a few minutes of petting her soft glossy fur, it was Raphie’s turn to cry. 

Lingering, still not entirely willing to leave them and feeling torn in two about it, Mikey looked at Yumemi. The moth waved her antennae at him gently, an unspoken assurance that she would stay and make things right. 

So Mikey left his heart behind to work her magic, and followed the twins from the room to work some magic of his own. If he could wheedle at least one smile out of each of them by dinner, he would call it a win. 

That evening, when everyone had been dragged to the table not quite kicking and screaming but close to it, Splinter stood up awkwardly and apologized to the far wall for how he had handled the situation. From his expression, Mikey wouldn’t have been that surprised to find someone holding a gun to his head. 

“The important thing is that you are a team,” Splinter went on, the formal stiffness fading from his tone and something more natural, more rueful and affectionate, replacing it. “You have always been a team, and a very good one at that.” 

Yumemi fluttered from the table to his hand, wings opening and closing slowly in approval. Splinter took strength from her, and added, “It does not matter who leads and who follows, as long as you remain on each other’s side.”

Leo darted a quick, sidelong look at Raph, who met his gaze hopefully. Some line of tension in Leo’s shoulders went slack and he said, “Where else would we be?” and smiled as easily as if the last handful of hours had happened to somebody else. 

Forever the more honest of the two, Lucky crept across the table inch by inch until Teddy could draw her into a tight hug that lasted well into dessert.)

Now Sunflower hops down from her padded bench and scrabbles like crazy around the counter for Raph’s attention. She’s such a good girl for waiting when all she ever wants to do all the time is run right to the people she loves as soon as she sees them. 

Raph scoops her up as easily as April can scoop up August, a full size Border Collie dwarfed in his big arms. She shrieks gleefully and bellows “Happy birthday!” loud enough for all of Manhattan to hear. Mikey smiles as if her joy is his own and carefully flips the next crêpe. 

“What do you want to do after the party tonight?” Donnie asks, setting his phone down. “The world is your oyster, Raphala.”

“But no patrol,” Terror pipes up. “It’s an important holiday.”

“It is an important holiday,” Sunflower agrees, tilting her head to the side so deeply that her floppy ear matches the upstanding one. “So are we going to the arcade? The movies? The park? New Jersey??”

“Hey, watch your language,” Leo says faux-sternly, causing her to yip with laughter. 

“I was thinking ninja tag,” Raph says. He crosses the room to Mikey as he speaks, and wraps both arms around him from behind to lift him off his feet in a big bear hug, spatula and skillet still in hand. Mikey giggles and holds breakfast as steady as he can. “We haven’t done that in ages,” Raphael adds. 

It’s an activity that rides the thin line between training and play, but if that’s what Raphie wants to do on his birthday, then that’s what they’re doing. Leo falls in line now as agreeably as he did two years ago—maybe even moreso. There’s some whining and complaining when the situation calls for it, but no more than any of the others are prone to; average annoying little sibling stuff because it’s good for Raph’s constitution. 

Mikey thinks the biggest difference is that Leo doesn’t really suggest his own ideas anymore. He doesn’t test Raphael’s authority the way he used to, even when sometimes they could really use his voice of reason or his lateral thinking. He so adamantly does not want to lead them, for whatever reason, that he won’t do anything that might give someone the right idea he’s leadership material. 

It’s something Mikey desperately wants to bring up, but every time he starts to, he can’t help but remember that uncomfortable family meeting and at that point his courage always deserts him. 

The last thing he wants is for Lucky, that easily hurt part of Leon’s heart that walks around unguarded outside his body, to feel small or sad because of something Mikey said. He doesn’t know if he’d ever recover from that. He doesn’t know how Raph did it. 

Two years ago, Leo would have thrown up his hands and said something like, “Ninja tag? For your eighteenth birthday? Come on Raph-a-doodle, think big! We’re hitting the Cheesecake Factory and then your favorite karaoke club. We can play ninja on the way home, how about that?”

Today, Leo stretches his arms above his head and then folds them, leaning back in his seat and telling Raph in his good-natured teasing kind of way, “Whatever you say, big guy. But don’t think I’m gonna let you win just ‘cause it’s your day.” 

It’s a change you have to squint to see. But Sunflower told Mikey in a whisper one night that she missed how playful Pollux used to be. She missed the little ringtail who used to want to be everyone’s friend and solve everyone’s problems, who used to run around in circles trying to be helpful and good, never worrying about making herself a nuisance because she knew better than to think her family would love her any less for it. 

“Maybe she’s just growing up,” Mikey had whispered back, stroking Sunny’s soft ears and ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach his own words put there. 

“Maybe,” Sunflower said, but she didn’t sound very sure either. 

[kurishiri]

n.4 . . . “ the dangerous promise between the hunter and the intelligent yakuza ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— thanks again to @ndoandou and @drachonia for helping me look over the jude lines!

— cw: blood and injury, smoking.

Jude: Speed up n’ get stitchin’ ya quack of a doctor.

The man named Jude was stabbed pretty badly, and was nearly killed. That was how reckless he was on a normal basis.

Every time he stumbled in the clinic, I would take him in, treating him in secret.

Roger: It’s not every day I run into people who have made so many enemies in their life. Well, show me your stomach.

R: Ohh, you managed to dodge it pretty well this time too. It won’t be too hard to suture. You have my praises.

Jude: Ah? The hell are ya doin’, stickin’ a needle in me n’ takin’ my blood?

Roger: It’s needed for the treatment. I thought that was obvious?

Jude: Ya damn quack, don’t go takin’ my blood if yer gonna dilly dally like that!

J: Ya braindead or somethin’? My blood’s already spillin’ from my stomach, now yer drainin’ me dry.

(...Tch, he found me out. Well, at least I can have the blood I already drew out.)

Roger: I get that you’re Cursed, but I can’t help but wonder if you’re Cursed by a fairytale if you’re just cursed with a sharp tongue.

R: Ah, as I thought, Ellis is the only good kid around here, being such a kind person and all.

Jude: Yer eyes must’ve gotten worse, ‘cause I think ya mean man’s clearly got a screw loose.

Roger: Okay, I get it, I won’t take Ellis away from you. Though honestly, I could use an assistant.

Jude: Ow—!

J: Oy, ya wanna get drowned? Don’t go stabbin’ people with needles without a warnin’ ya quack!

Roger: Yeah, I make it a rule of mine to not listen to someone who can’t quit smoking a single cigarette.

Jude normally kept a pack of cigarettes in his pockets, and no matter how many times I told him to stop, he didn’t even try.

(I heard that he had problems in his bronchial tube, so that’s why he came to see my dad, but was all that a lie?)

But, my doubts would be flipped over on a certain night.

Jude: ...Gegh—*cough* ...Hah—

Roger: Was that an asthma attack...

Ellis: I went to collect some debts, but there in the basement, there was tobacco smoke everywhere…

Jude: …Ah, bloody hell…

(So my dad wasn’t wrong about Jude in his medical records?)

Roger: Jude, I’m gonna make you feel better as soon as possible tonight.

I had given Jude some medicine a bit on the stronger side, and so by the time he awoke, it was the next morning.

Roger: Awake now? …Ah, looks like your breathing has stabilized too.

Because of some side effect of the medicine, somewhere in his gaze seemed a bit hollow.

Jude: What of Ellis…

Roger: Said he was gonna finish up some stuff for work at your company.

R: He figured you’d be worried about that when you woke up. Ellis really is a good right-hand man.

Jude: …Hah… that stuff’s the bottom line.

Roger: Hey, Jude.  You really should quit smoking.

R: As far as I can see, you don’t seem to be smoking because you like to do it. In which case it’s better to just not smoke at all.

R: And if you’re doing this because of your work…

Jude: It ain’t just my work.

Roger: ………?

Jude: The smell when I smoke reminds me of that stuffy ass room.

J: All the smoke n’ the fumes, n’ the gloom in the air would make me cough up a lung.

From within those hollow eyes I could clearly sense loathing.

Jude: …Every time I remember that, it makes me bloody seethe to the stomach.

J: N’ that’s when I thought…

J: All the ones who looked down on me, n’ the ones who tried to look down on me…

J: …Ain’t no way I’ll kick the bucket ‘til I make every last one o’ those shits fall to the pits of Hell.

Then, one night, I chanced upon Jude by his lonesome on a street corner.

While holding a cigarette in his mouth, he was gazing up at the moon with a vacant look.

Such a look was reminiscent of having given up on something, just like that���

If anger and loathing was the fire that Jude needed to live, and smoking was that fuel—

Roger: …Jude. I will always be against smoking.

R: But in the end, you can do what you want, and how you want. That’s all up to you.

R: Ahh, and also—

R: If you’re about to die again, then I promise I will save you. If you’re willing to pay a steep price in turn, that is.

Jude: Don’t go throwin’ the words “I promise” around so willy nilly.

J: If I end up suddenly droppin’ dead ‘cause yer a quack, I’m gonna have Ellis kill ya.

Roger: You got yourself a deal. If that happens, we can enjoy a drink in Hell, the two of us.

Jude: …Hah, now that one’s for the birds.

J: Somethin’ like yer favorite beer probably ain’t gonna be down in a place like that.

—— Present time ——

(…I just keep thinking about the old times today.)

Scattered about before my eyes were the medical records of the Crown members.

Their ways of living and personalities were all over the place, but there was one thing they all had in common.

And that was the fact they all were Cursed with a “tragic fate” they could never escape from.

I sucked in a breath unconsciously.

(At this rate, they can’t die with a smile on their faces.)

(And maybe, if they weren’t Cursed, they could be living more freely than they do now.)

Roger: Jeez, since when did I feel such things? It’s not like me.

——is what I said, when footsteps sounded outside the door.

They resembled the steps of a puppy, and they seemed to be in a hurry.

(It’s Kate.)

Before I heard the knock, I called out to her.

Roger: You can come in.

Kate: Roger, there’s trouble…

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@rosekillermicrofic june 11 — memory — 860words — aka baby rosekiller in canon universe 🪄

The first memory Barty has of Evan is from second year.

Looking back Barty knows he’s noticed Evan before, in their first year. A blurry morsel of a sequenze, hazy moving pictures of white blonde curls—two heads more often than not—and smooth tan skin disappearing under violet shimmering robes and crisp dress shirts. He’d known from his father where to sort in the name Rosier, one of the Sacred 28, after all.

But the first distinct memory is from DADA class, second year.

It had been sometime late spring, early summer. June, maybe.

A sharp breeze filtered in through the open window of their tower classroom but the air had been warm, tousling Barty’s hair as he levitated his chair to the side of the room as they’d all been asked to by their Professor. Today’s topic: dueling practice.

Barty’s grin had been razor sharp.

Their Professor makes the Slytherins and the Gryffindors have a go at each other first, which is as much entertaining to watch as it is boring as Barty stands to the side and fiddles with his blue tie, waiting for his turn. In retrospect, he should have tried observing the classmates that were soon to be his opponents but for a 12 year old Barty it had been much more fun messing with the Professor’s talking raven.

Once it was his turn, Barty won the first few rounds easily. Even back then he’d already had a fair ensemble of mean jinxes and curses memorized. Bones were turned back to solid, students were picked off the ground, stiff like Honeyduke’s teeth breaking candy and deposited on the tables and classroom equipment was fixed from being shattered only moments prior.

Then Barty was faced with Evan Rosier.

And while Barty was pretty bloody good, Evan was offensive. The second the Professor gave the go Evan was firing something at him. Barty deflected the spell just in time but he was so stunned for a moment that he almost forgot to start attacking as well. Though Evan taking another step forward and waving his wand had done the trick. Barty jumped into action. He fired off two in a row and then another at Evan’s feet. Evan spelled a protection shield and then returned with three curses as well.

A laugh tumbled out of Barty when he recognized the spells. Impressive. Evan Rosier really doesn’t hold back, huh?

Barty twisted, dodging the spell. But Evan was quick and he managed to fire off another that grazed Barty’s shoulder. Something hot and stinging. His aim was incredible—still is, of course. Barty hissed in pain but he managed to hurl two more jinxes in Evan’s direction nonetheless. Evan deflected and then he caught Barty, hitting him square in the chest with something that threw him back several feet.

Barty landed on the floor with a dull thud and he groaned. He was about to scramble back up when Evan hit him with something that made Barty’s body spasm, the muscles in his limbs seize.

It was like electricity shooting through Barty’s veins and for a moment he couldn’t do anything but laugh, stars dancing in his vision.

Barty managed to prop himself up on his elbows, arms still shaking, just in time to see Evan move his wand again, and what rendered Barty immobile then wasn’t the result of another spell but rather the sharp grin on Evan’s face.

And Evan always smacks him when Barty says it but, well, if that wasn’t love at first sight what else is?

Whatever foul curse Evan was hurling his way though gets redirected away and to the side, hitting the stone wall with a green spark. Barty didn’t know why a slight wave of disappointment washed over him.

“That’s quite enough, Mister Rosier,” their Professor said.

Evan nodded once, giving a curt hum in response before pocketing his wand.

Barty stood up and shook his arms out, shuffling around on the spot to get rid of the tingling feeling in his body.

Their Professor called out two names and Evan walked to stand on the side. Barty followed.

“You’re good,” Barty stated, inspecting Rosier’s side profile. His nose is small and upturned, like a doll. And his lashes are dark and long.

“I am,” is all Evan replied.

“You gotta teach me that last spell you hit me with sometime,” Barty said, nudging their elbows together.

Evan turned and simply scowled at him.

Barty’s grin widened, “I feel like I’ve been bitten by a Swedish electric Grindylow.”

“A Finnish electric Grindylow, you mean,” a high voice chimed behind him. Barty turned and stared into the same face. The same button nose, the same brown eyes, only framed by longer, wavy hair. Pandora Rosier. She’s pretty. She looks just like her brother.

“But I like your comparison.” The girl tipped her head sideways, blinking at Barty, before breaking out into a big, close lipped smile, eyes crinkling. “He’ll show you,” she announced in her twin’s stead.

Evan had only grumbled but he hadn’t denied it. And a few days later (after some relentless bugging from Barty and more fauxly sweet nettling from Pandora) he’d taught Barty the spell.