#and minded their own business and sorted their own problems out instead of meddling like everyone else

[cupiare]

julius king from a fairly honorable defeat has got to be one of the messiest bitches ever written. got bored with his biological warfare research so he chose to insert himself into random peaceful ppls lives just to stir the pot and have a giggle. he’ll probably just fuck off after that and be a menace to society elsewhere. or die idk a lot can happen in 80 pages and no ones died yet which usually happens by this point

[rendy-a]

Hello there! 😆 It's always a pleasure to see you on my dash. (Also, did I mention that we're mutuals now? 👀 Because we are! 😆😆) I hope you're having fun writing for the Pet AU. Your posts are simply a delight to read!

Alright, I'd like to request for headcanons where Riddle, Trey, Silver and Sebek are bought by an owner that is unfortunately, very chaotic.

What kind of chaotic, I'll leave it up to you! Whether it be clumsy, unpredictable, spontaneous...There are so many ways to interpret this kind of owner! 😆

My first mutual, I feel so honored.  I’m glad you are enjoying my Pet AU stories.  They are so fun to write!

A Chaotic Master with Riddle, Trey, Silver and Sebek

Some say you are disorganized; others say merely whimsical.  You yourself just like to think that ideas like organization and plans are more of general suggestions than rules.  How will your pets deal with living alongside such a chaotic master?

Every morning Riddle starts his day with daily affirmations.  Give me the strength and patience to endure…well you.  As a star companion pet, Riddle is adept at making schedules and keeping to them.  And you are adept at breaking every well-wrought appointment and plan he makes.  Why yes master, I guess it is a lovely day for a walk, but these forms need to be signed.  Well, yes, I suppose we could do them later…  Please excuse the forced and awkward smile on his face, he is trying so hard to keep his temper in check.

There is also the…unique…way you organize your belongings.  Which is to say no organization.  Riddle tries to believe you when you say you have a system.  He tries so hard but it’s just a random jumble, what sort of system could there be?  NO! He must believe, you are the master and therefore always correct!  He is sure it’s a very…nice system…

With your poor organization and lack of commitment to your schedule, you cause yourself a lot of problems.  This is why you got such a highly recommended expensive companion pet like Riddle in the first place.  You know that sometimes you need help to dig you out of your chaos; and he does.

Riddle walks into your office to find you holding your head between your hands, gazing at a piece of paper in shock.  How could you have forgotten your taxes are due tomorrow?  Don’t panic!  Step away from the paperwork and go brew Riddle a strong cup of black tea.  Somehow, no matter how big the mess, he always manages to set your affairs in order.  He is just like magic!  Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far Master, but the sentiment is well appreciated.  He tries to sound unaffected, but you can see how his face is nearly scarlet from blushing at your praise.

You are simply no longer allowed in the kitchen.  One day, Trey had been baking cupcakes when he was not able to find an oven mitt to remove them.  You had decided to give the kitchen a bit of reorganization and things…got a little lost.  Eventually, Trey was able to remove the cupcakes from the oven with a dish towel but not until the whole place was filled with smoke and the smell of burnt treats.  After that, you mutually agreed to leave the kitchen as Trey’s sole domain.

Trey prefers to not meddle too deeply in your chaotic behavior.  He sees you making mistakes and letting your schedule get the better of you but who is he to interfere?  He prefers to mind his own business and let you make your own mistakes.  That’s part of life!  He thinks of you a tiny bit like one of his siblings; someone to watch grow from their mistakes and experiences.

If you have a bad day after missing a deadline or being unable to find something important, Trey is always there to lend you his shoulder to cry on.  He will listen patiently and offer you a tart when you are done.  Maybe sweets don’t fix everything, but they surely help!

Treats, snacks and meals; Trey always has them ready.  He has long since accepted that he can’t control your habit of spontaneously changing your schedule.  Instead, he has adapted his own menus to accommodate you.   If you suddenly decide that you need to see a movie instead of eating the chicken diner in the oven, well he has already bought ingredients to make it into a soup for tomorrow.  If you come home early from work and need a lunch right now, he can take a meal saved for this purpose from the freezer.  You are so impressed with how he always seems to be prepared.  Ask him his secret and he’ll tell you.  Oyster sauce, of course.  He is joking…probably.

Silver is a stray you have befriend in the park.  Whenever you are in the area, you like to stop by and see if he is around.  He often seems to be napping somewhere in the sun.  Your schedule is so erratic, Silver never knows when you might return.  He worries he might miss one of your visits and he has come to enjoy them very much.  On the other hand, he knows you might show up at any time at all.  Every time he awakens is a new chance you might be there smiling down at him.  Its such a pleasant thought it makes him want to nap right now…

Silver has noticed you have a habit of leaving things behind.  You tend to remove your scarf and gloves in one area before deciding to run over to play with him in another.  When Silver falls asleep during your game, you decide it’s a good time to go home.  Maybe you remember to go back and pick up your things and maybe you don’t.  Silver will notice them when he awakens and carry them with him for the next time he sees you.  He doesn’t mean to wear your things, but the scarf is warm and smells like you; it’s just so comforting!

Some days you think you’d like to try to officially adopt Silver, but you know it won’t work out.  He has mentioned another stray that makes up his family and would never leave him behind.  For now, you are happy to sit with him on sunny days, tell him stories and play games.  When he wakes up from one of his naps and sees you sitting there waiting, he gives you the softest smile.  I dreamed you were here and now here you are.  They say if you dream a thing more than once, it’s sure to come true.

Your ever-changing schedule is a challenge to Sebek.  How will he protect you if you are wandering away without telling him?  Sebek is beside himself when he returns to your office with a glass of water, and you are gone.  He dashes through the house shouting for you.  Wakasama! WAKASAMA!!! 

You have a tendency to lose your train of thought when writing up notes and lists for Sebek.  This can result in some pretty confusing directions for him.  Wash the socks, towels, and apples?  He doesn’t really get it but if that’s what the master wants, in the machine they all go!  He can’t question your orders, after all. 

Sometimes, if might be better if Sebek spoke up or challenged you on the things you do but instead, he seems rather impressed with your strange ways.  One day you invite him along to run errands with you.  You drag him around to a random pattern of stores, offices, and appointments; not an efficient way to accomplish the task at all.  In fact, you are only about halfway done with your list when you decide to abandon your errands and return home with the list half incomplete.  As soon as you arrive home and get in the door, it starts to rain; how lucky you made it before the storm!  You turn to see Sebek gazing at you in awe.  HOW FOOLISH OF ME NOT TO HAVE NOTICED YOUR PLAN!  THIS IS THE LEVEL OF WISDOM MY MASTER HAS!  I MUST KEEP TRAINING MYSELF!

[cookie-run-kingdom-story]

Black Pearl Islands Dialogue

Merchant Cookie 2: Hey! Have ya heard? They’re gathering volunteers that’ll explore the Black Pearl Islands! Merchant Cookie 5: Have you been living under a rock or something’? That was ages ago! Merchant Cookie 5: Didn’t you see a giant crowd on your way here? Adventurers are crawling all over the place! Captain Caviar Cookie: Listen up! If yer here to explore the Black Pearl Islands, get on that boat over there: the Silent! Merchant Cookie 2: So? What’s so special about the Black Pearl Islands?

Captain Caviar Cookie: Did I hear that right? “What's so SPECIAL?” Captain Caviar Cookie: Long story short, it’s no walk in the park. Even the most seasoned sailors will have a hard time stayin’ in one piece. Captain Caviar Cookie: Sea monsters at every turn and the winds beckon you to the roughest storms… Captain Caviar Cookie: Imagine all the splendor that is waitin’ to be discovered! Who knows what treasures hide within those waters! HA HA! Merchant Cookie 5: If you put it that way… No adventurer is gonna turn back! Captain Caviar Cookie: WA HA HA! Of course! How it ought to be! Captain Caviar Cookie: The fear of the unknown… Uncertainty of wandering in the middle of uncharted waters… Only those who are brave enough to endure it all can achieve GREATNESS! Captain Caviar Cookie: If you think you are a Cookie up to a task as such, get on board the Silent! Captain Caviar Cookie: We’ll be back with treasures and stories like no one ever has!

Suspicious Bottle: *rattle…* Suspicious Bottle: *rattle… RATTLE!* The Silent’s Sailor: (Ominous sounds can be heard from the bottle.) The Silent’s Sailor: (There’s some sort of black ooze inside. Or perhaps it’s some sort of miasma? It feels sinister yet something about it resembles the sea…) The Silent’s Sailor: (Perhaps it’s related to the legend of the Black Pearl Islands! Let’s try opening it!) Suspicious Bottle: *rattle… POP!* The Silent’s Sailor: (The dark miasma vanished. Instead, a coin as dark as the abyss fell out. But you could swear that you saw something alive…)

The Silent’s Sailor: To think that the Jelly Worms inhabited the Black Pearl Islands… Huh! The Silent’s Sailor: But this one looked… different from the others. It was as if… it was trying to tell me something… The Silent’s Sailor: Or, I’m just imagining things! Ha!

Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: HA HA! You can’t escape me now! Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: Not a single day has gone by that I don’t think about that time you gave me this scar! Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: I’ve lived my whole life in these waters! I have never lost to the sea, and I plan to keep it that way! Lantern Fish: *twinkle twinkle* The Silent’s Sailor: (It looks like that sailor is fighting against a sea monster… Should I help them?) Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: Oi! This is between me and that thing! Don’t you dare meddle around! Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: Argh, are you taunting me or what?! Enough with your silly light tricks! Don’t even think of escaping! I’m gonna get you! The Silent’s Sailor: (Wait… The monster is luring the poor sailor right into a whirlpool!) The Silent’s Sailor: Watch out! Look up ahead! Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: Didn’t I just tell you to mind your own business?! W-wait, whirlpool?! Bearded Mangosteen Octopus: I almost got swept away! Err… Well, I guess I owe you this time!

The Silent’s Sailor: Ha ha! Piece of cake! But is it just me, or this Ginkgoblin was much tougher than the land ones? The Silent’s Sailor: I can still hear the enginer’s roar! Ugh, the deck must be covered in their tracks… The Silent’s Sailor: …Huh? But it’s… spotless? Wait, but…

Wailing Whale: OooOoo… OOooo… The Silent’s Sailor: (It looks like that poor whale is entwined in seaweed!) Wailing Whale: Ooo… The Silent’s Sailor: (Let’s help it out!)

The Silent’s Sailor: VICTORY! It was a tough battle, but we made it! No problem-o! The Silent’s Sailor: We must be pretty deep in to the Black Pearl Islands. Definitely past the mid point*!

*actual text

The Silent’s Sailor: Alright! Let’s keep movin’! Riches and fame await us!

Starlight Coral Seahorse: What’s this? Who dares to enter these treacherous waters? Starlight Coral Seahorse: I’ve dwelled in these waters for many a year but I’ve never seen this many Cookies! Starlight Coral Seahorse: I can’t help but wonder what shenanigans you biscuit kinds are up to! Starlight Coral Seahorse: It’s simply astonishing…! Your ships are wrecked and you meet the most terrifying creatures, and yet…! You keep trying! Starlight Coral Seahorse: How far will you go? Starlight Coral Seahorse: Let’s see… Why don’t I grant you one of the ocean’s gifts? A small gift for the tiny brave adventurer. Take your pick!

The Silent’s Sailor: Now THAT was one possessed gardener… The Silent’s Sailor: But this doesn’t make sense. Why would there be a royal gardener in the Black Pearl Islands? The Silent’s Sailor: And it’s not just the gardener… All of those monsters we’ve passed by… They’re not from the sea. The Silent’s Sailor: And I’m PRETTY sure all this… haze and fog has gotten thicker. It’s as if the sea is covered with… malice. The Silent’s Sailor: It’s hard to see up ahead! Better take extra caution.

Shipwright in Distress: It’s been two years since I’ve become a shipwright… I’ve left everything behind to find the indestructible mineral of legends… Shipwright in Distress: Indestructible? Hah! More like IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND! How am I ever gonna get home?! Sigh… Shipwright in Distress: I have stuff to do! Dreams that need to come true! …I need to get back home! The Silent: *ship horn sounds* Shipwright in Distress: Huh?! IS THAT… A SHIP!? Shipwright in Distress: Here! Over here!! HEEEEEEELP!!! Shipwright in Distress: Y-you see, I’m a shipwright! If you help me out, I can fix your ship! What do you say?! Shipwright in Distress: You can trust me! I have like, 20 years under my belt! TRUST me, I got this!!

The Silent’s Sailor: Oof. Finally! We won! HA! Persistent, that one was. The Silent’s Sailor: I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before… Where did they come from? The Silent’s Sailor: Gah. Whatever. That… good-for-nothing, prickly shell! Just how many holes did it create…?! The Silent’s Sailor: There, another one here! …Huh? But… I swear I saw one… The Silent’s Sailor: I’m… I’m getting the creeps! It’s… like as if this place is haunted…

Ducky Tube: *squeak*... *squeak* Freezing Durianeer: Ugh… Urgh… It’s been so long since I got stranded… Freezing Durianeer: It’s so cold… Where exactly am I…? Freezing Durianeer: Not a single ship to be seen! How am I gonna steal one if there aren’t any!? GAH! What good is it all when I’m gonna freeze away… Ducky Tube: *sque.. eak…* Freezing Durianeer: Boss! Stink-Eye!? Any Durianeers out there?! ANYONE?!! Ducky Tube: *squee…* Freezing Durianeer: NOOO! Stay with me, Ducky! I need you with me…! I can’t have you freeze… Freezing Durianeer: OR I’M GONNA SINK! Freezing Durianeer: W-wait! Is that a ship I see?! IT IS! IT’S A SHIP!! Freezing Durianeer: Thank the heavens! Oi! OVER HERE!! HEEEEEEELP!!! Freezing Durianeer: Phew…! If it weren’t you, I’d be good as a popsicle! I’m never gonna set sail, ever again! Freezing Durianeer: Nope, no way, not this fruit! I’m gonna stay on land with my pal, Ducky! Right?! Ducky Tube: *quack!!*

The Silent’s Sailor: PHEW! So that’s the true identity of the Duskgloom Sea…! The Silent’s Sailor: It was powerful, alright! No wonder why they call it a disaster. No, I don’t know if disaster even does it justice…. The Silent’s Sailor: But it is I, who made it to the very end! The Silent’s Sailor: I don’t care if those monsters were ghosts or spirits! Who CARES! HA HA! The Silent’s Sailor: WA HA HA! Let’s head back home! I’ve got treasures and stories to share!

[plus-size-reader]

Something Wrong

Theo Raeken x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2901 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The reader follows Theo around like a lost little puppy, which rubs Stiles the wrong way

—————————————————————————————————

Stiles didn't like it. 

There was just something strange about the relationship you and Theo shared.

There was never a time that he wasn't dismissive and nasty to you, but you still seemed completely and totally devoted to him.  He had never seen you before, or even heard your name around here, but now that Theo was here, so were you. 

...And it wasn’t just that. 

Stiles was sure that he’d never even seen you without the male right by your side. It was like you didn’t go outside unless he was there to accompany you and in general, it just rubbed him the wrong way. 

It wasn’t natural. 

You should have been able to go wherever you wanted, or do whatever you wanted without his permission, but you just didn’t. You hardly even spoke when you were all together, unless it was to agree with whatever Theo was telling them. 

There was just something wrong, he could feel it in his gut. 

So, Stiles did what he always did, he decided that he was going to make it better. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how yet, or if you would even talk to him, but if something was wrong, he was going to find out. All you had to do was actually speak to him, and everything else would be his problem. 

Though, the speaking to him part was the part you would surely struggle with the most. 

Not only would Stiles have to get you to tell him what was going on, but he would likely have to get you away from Theo to do it which was much easier said than done. By this point, it really did seem like you were attached at the hip. 

There was no way you would just open up to him alone.

Not that Stiles thought that was too much of a problem. He always had a plan and this whole thing was just asking to be taken care of like everything else he did. First thing was first though, he had to talk to Scott. 

If there was anyone out there who could figure out what it was that was between you and Theo without having to actually ask, it was Scott. 

Before he went out and did something stupid or made a problem out of nothing, Stiles needed his best friend to tell him it was okay.

 After all, things with Theo were complicated as they were, and the last thing the pack needed was him making a problem where there didn’t need to be one. 

“Hey, you know what Y/N’s deal is?” he asked, out of nowhere as if it was no big deal. 

It was hardly his usual icebreaker, but thankfully, Scott knew his best friend well enough to know that he didn’t really think in terms of icebreakers and social constructs. Whatever it was he was thinking, it was just going to come out of his mouth. 

Today, he was thinking about you, apparently. 

“Theo’s Y/N? No, I don’t know what her deal is” Scott shrugged, hardly batting an eye at his weird little buddies antics. Eventually, he would get to the point, and asking follow up questions would just prolong the process. 

It was better to just let himself go, similarly to how you would a wind up toy. 

“You don’t think it's weird though? We don’t know anything about either of them, y’know” Stiles continued, clearly Scott didn’t get what he was getting at. 

There was something going on, something more than whatever it was they were supposed to believe. 

After all, the two of you certainly didn’t act like a couple, but you didn’t not act like a couple either. You were clearly hyper aware of whatever it was the other male had going on at all times, but he didn’t pay you any mind unless he wanted something. 

It just didn’t seem healthy.

Granted, Stiles had never really had a serious, long term relationship like the one  you shared, but it wouldn’t have been like that even if he had. 

You just seemed like the kind of person who deserved better, and that was just a general statement. It was no secret that Stiles didn’t like Theo, but this wasn’t that. 

This was something else, and he just couldn’t put a finger on it. 

“I don’t know man, they’re weird, but it's not really any of our business” the true alpha shrugged again, sort of hoping that Stiles would just let this whole thing go. Whatever it was he was getting at, it was coming out of nowhere. 

The last thing any of them needed to be doing was meddling into Theo’s business, not when they needed to be getting rid of him. 

Of all the things they needed to know about him, his relationship to you didn’t even crack the top ten. 

Though, Scott was perfectly aware that trying to get the other male to understand that wasn’t going to do him any good. All he could do was wait for Stiles to do whatever he was going to do, and once he realized it was fine, he would let it go. 

He had to. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right” Stiles decided, momentarily considering the fact that Scott may have had a point. 

This was hardly where he needed to be focusing his energy but that didn’t mean he was just going to let it go. 

He would just have to put it on the backburner for a little while, and if the opportunity arose for him to gather more information, then he would do something about it. 

Until he really understood this whole thing, it would be better that way anyway. 

~

The idea of having Theo over wasn’t exactly ideal, for multiple reasons, but at the very least, it would give Stiles a chance to further sus out what your deal was. 

As much as he understood what Scott was saying, he just couldn’t stop thinking about it. The whole situation was weird, and when he stopped to think about it, he knew that something had to change. 

One thing was for sure, if he didn’t get some clarification soon, he was going to drive himself insane. 

From the second you entered the room, Stiles kept his eyes on the two of you, his gaze only leaving your face to shoot a glance at Scott. He wanted to see if the other male was seeing what he was seeing, that this was weird. 

...but Scott was oblivious. 

Really, whatever it was that was going on between you and Theo, it wasn’t any of their business. Scott truly believed that, and he just wished that his best friend would do the same. 

What he’d said was true. 

They didn’t know anything about you or Theo, really, and making assumptions was hardly the way to fix that. 

If Stiles was so worried about it, all he had to do was get to know you and maybe that would make him feel better. 

After all, it was hard to not just write his suspicion off as a distrust of Theo. It was no secret that he didn’t like the new guy, and if anyone was going to be convinced that he was doing something bad, it was going to be Stiles. 

So, until he had proof, Scott was just going to leave him to his detective work. 

You didn’t say anything at first, sticking close to Theo just as you always did, your arms held tightly behind your back to avoid touching anything. 

You didn’t want to be here, something you had told Theo without hesitation before, but that didn’t mean much. 

Clearly. 

Building relationships with the rest of the pack was important to him, and he needed you to come across as less threatening than he would on his own. In his experience, bringing a pretty girl along made him easier to trust. 

If nothing else, the pack had no reason to hate you. 

Stiles watched you with burning eyes, waiting for something to happen, anything that would warrant the pit in his stomach. 

He didn’t have any proof yet, but he knew it, deep down inside himself, that something was wrong. 

There was something wrong with this guy. 

You stood there for a moment more then, after Theo leaned over to whisper something in your ear, you nodded slightly, moving to take a seat on the couch. 

All in all, it seemed like more than enough to justify the suspicions he was feeling, but no one else seemed to feel that same way. Stiles had a bit of a habit, he was paranoid sometimes, and could really make something out of nothing. 

Maybe the relationship you and Theo shared wasn’t like what they were used to but nothing said you were in danger or anything like that.

It could have easily been anything else. 

“I didn’t realize you were bringing Y/N tonight, Theo” Stiles hummed, a strange tone leaving his lips that didn’t really fit in with the mood of the evening but if nothing else, it opened the door. 

Everything that left his lips in regard to Theo was hostile, but as per usual, the other male didn’t bat an eye. 

Instead, he smiled, that sly sort of knowing smile that he always wore when he knew just what to do. 

It was a confidence you had never had in your life, but that was part of why you stayed with Theo like you did. He always made sure you were taken care of, and you never had to worry about anything when he was around. 

He kept you safe. 

“Her being here isn’t a problem, is it? I mean, we’re sort of a package deal” he smirked, looking at Stiles in a way that could only be described as challenging. He wanted him to say something, here, right in front of everyone. 

He wanted them to know just where he stood, and that you weren’t any of their business. 

“Don’t worry about it, right Stiles?” Scott interjected, before the dark haired male could respond. Having Theo here was probationary, just to see if he knew anything that could help them, and the last thing any of you needed was a pissing contest. 

Tensions were high enough as it was. 

Theo seemed content enough with that, at least for now, when Stiles nodded but you know well enough to know it was hardly over. 

There was just something about them, they were never going to get along, and the last thing you wanted to do was get in the middle of it. 

It was much better to just sit where you were and let Theo handle it. 

Like you let him handle everything. 

A small “good” left Theo as he sat down beside you on the couch. 

It was little more than an acknowledgment of your presence but you didn’t mind it. Tonight would be over soon enough, and you would be able to breathe again. All you had to do was do as you were told, and this whole thing would work out just like it was supposed to. 

The interaction was meant to console Stiles in some way, to assure him that whatever you were doing here wasn’t any of his business, but it didn’t seem to be working. You could practically feel Stiles’ eyes on you,  not even paying attention to what was going on. 

...and, if the tight grip Theo had on your thigh was any indication, he had noticed too. 

Thankfully though, he didn’t say anything and just kept talking to Scott about whatever it was that was going on. You couldn’t have cared too much about whatever the true alpha had to say, because if Theo got what he wanted, he wouldn’t be alive much longer anyway.

You just had to wait this out. 

“I need to get out of here for a bit” 

Your words were little more than a whisper to Theo, who was still sitting ridgid at your side, deep in conversation with Scott and the rest of the pack. You could tell that he wasn’t happy with the idea due to the tension in his jaw, but you didn’t have a choice. 

If you sat here any more under Stiles’ watchful eye, you were going to lose your mind. All you could do was hope that a little fresh air was going to make the anxious fluttering in your stomach go away. 

You didn't want him looking at you anymore. 

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 16)

We've just seen a pretty stressful arc, and on the other end of this post is yet another stressful arc. Upcoming is little break from serious plotlines to focus more on relationship growth and introduce some concepts that may seem minor now but will be pretty important later (though that will especially be the case for Mikan's perspective).

I'm on something of a vacation right now so I don't have a lot of time to format and work on this. The editing might be somewhat limited so if there's more mistakes than usual (not that I ever make mistakes) then I'm very sorry.

Chapter Seventy-One

The next few chapters are a welcome respite from the stresses of two major arcs. We just had to deal with Natsume’s heavy backstory, Mikan’s near-death experience, and a lot of fighting. The next major arc is the Sport Fest, and that gets pretty heavy very early on. So having a short break like this is more than needed so that we can catch our breath and maybe foolishly hope that everything will stay “back to normal”.

We join Natsume, who is again looking wistfully at the little Christmas-wrapped bag. We still aren’t entirely sure what’s in it, reading for the first time, but we can surmise it has something to do with Mikan. But reading for the nth time, we know that it’s his alice stone, and he’s been keeping it with himself since at least New Year’s, but probably earlier as well.

Quick! Put that away, it's embarrassing!

He’s interrupted by Ruka, who is eager to spend time with his friend. They’re both able to laugh and joke with each other, which prompts Ruka to say that he knows Mikan helped Natsume get to the point where he can laugh freely.

It’s interesting, because, even though it should be, Natsume’s DA class life is not necessarily any easier. In fact, it’s harder. He’s going through more now than ever as a way to take all the punishment for the problems with the Hana Hime party. And yet somehow, despite all that, he’s still able to smile. He’s light-hearted. He’s at peace with his life, content simply to stand in the same vicinity as Mikan.

Natsume’s love for her is pure and innocent. All he wants is to keep her safe. Seeing her happy makes him happy. The fact that she considers him a friend is more than enough to keep him smiling. He is not morose that she probably doesn’t feel the same. In fact, in a lot of ways, he’d prefer she doesn’t, because he still can’t give much more than he already is.

So, yes, he can smile, despite his life not being much easier, all because Mikan is in it.

Ruka then points out another fact, that he knows Natsume stayed to protect Mikan.

Natsume confirms it. He says he’ll protect Mikan from anything that stands in her way, no matter what.

In the TokyoPop, he just says something like "no matter what" but here he just goes out and says it (sacrificing my own life...). Natsume's fate was obvious from the start. It was all leading to a specific outcome. It was always going to happen this way. He's just too eager...

This scene is a further example of how that scene from after the Christmas Ball has really changed their friendship. They are more open with each other. They have conversations. They laugh together. They communicate. There are still some topics Natsume won’t touch, but he can be open with Ruka about this.

Ruka says he wants to protect her too, because he also likes Mikan, and because he wants to keep Natsume smiling. After all, Ruka promised that if Natsume wasn’t smiling, he wouldn’t either, and now Natsume is smiling. That’s worth protecting, because it didn’t come easy.

There truly are no hard feelings between them about Mikan. They aren’t turning bitter, or arguing over her. There’s no resentment. They loved each other before they loved Mikan and ultimately they just want the other to be happy. And whoever Mikan chooses to love, if it even ends up being one of them, would be fine, because she’ll be happy too. Moreover, they both seem to be somewhat rooting for the other, and always have been, especially Natsume. He wants Ruka and Mikan to be happy, and because he’s aware that his life will be cut very short, he doesn’t think she will be happy if she chooses him, which would never happen, in his own mind. Why would anyone choose him over Ruka?

Ruka then reminisces on the day they both first met Mikan, where we get a full explanation of why Natsume tried to escape that day: not because of Misaki-sensei’s claims that Natsume was a repeat escapee, but because he was getting bullied and wanted a letter from his dad.

The story ends and they both notice Mikan crying, trying to find Hotaru. She finds Narumi instead, who makes a comment that he knew from the moment he first saw her that she’d save Natsume, and confirms that’s why he made her his partner. Now that Natsume is no longer such a troublemaker, and that he has done his job in helping him, there’s less of a weight on his shoulders. Of course, the wind is raging and she can’t hear him, but Natsume heard.

Who the fuck is Narumi calling a burden?

He’s angry because Narumi is right. He also finally knows who exactly pulled the strings to make them partners, and that he’s in love with her because of Naru’s meddling. So he jumps down from the tree and kicks him, causing Mikan, who was in his arms, to be flung far away.

That gives Natsume enough time to scold Naru for hugging Mikan in the first place, and also for having the audacity to say Natsume’s behavior was a weight on his shoulders. Essentially, stay out of my business, despite the fact that Narumi sticking his nose in Natsume’s business is exactly the reason Natsume is so happy right now.

But even when Natsume storms off and Mikan angrily follows him, and they’re both trailed by Ruka, Narumi can see the truth. He was spot on.

Chapter Seventy-Two

This chapter is a fountain of lore! There’s so much new information and the online scans have kept me ignorant to it for a long time! There’s a lot of text and info, so it might be daunting to have to translate it all and write it out, but the price of saving time is that fans who care will be at a disadvantage.

I wanted to share some of the information that I’d found lacking in the scans just in case anybody wanted to know: the more powerful a user is, the more control they have over a stone’s size, shape, and vividness of color. Thus, Tono, a powerful alice user, can make his alice stone look like an eggplant. You could imagine a powerful user making their stone heart-shaped, or more circular or ovular depending on what they like best. The color of the alice stone reflects the user’s personality and maybe even their alice, not necessarily their favorite color, which is how Ruka’s ends up being a cream/brownish color, and not blue like I’d imagined for years. Koko reads some color meanings from an aura textbook to help sort out what the colors in a stone might signify.

This is all brought on anyway by Mikan being followed by an aquamarine alice stone, which we can tell is probably Sakurano’s. Out of loyalty to Yuka, he has strong wishes of wanting to protect Mikan, hence the stone following her around and being aquamarine, which symbolizes feelings of compassion and care.

Natsume and Ruka are both confused about this stone--it’s neither of theirs, after all--but since Mikan has so many friends who care for her, even amongst the staff and upperclassmen, it honestly could have come from anybody.

Although everyone wants to see Natsume make an alice stone, seeing as he is the most powerful alice user in Class B, Narumi makes it clear that he’s already learned everything there is to know about making stones, and thus can do whatever he wants during the lesson, which is what Natsume had wanted. This is intriguing information, because Narumi says specifically, “There’s nothing more we can teach him,” which begs the question: how does Narumi know? Has Natsume shown the staff his alice stone? It’s unlikely he would’ve asked a teacher for help in creating one, since he doesn’t trust any of them as far as he can throw them. But maybe, in order to get out of doing the lesson, he showed a teacher his alice stone to prove that he doesn’t need to be taught anything.

Tono brings up one last tip before they all begin to make their first alice stones. For once, you’re not using your alice for your own use. Somebody else will be using your stone, so how you feel about the person will come out in the stone, whether it’s good or bad. Wanting to protect or harm somebody, whether you have concern or resentment towards them, it will all show up in the stone, so focusing on certain emotions is tantamount to getting the result you want. These feelings can also influence the color, like everything else.

Red is mentioned as being a color of passion and strong feelings, and although Natsume's alice stones are all red anyway, according to his personality, it's interesting that when he makes a stone just for Mikan, it comes out as such a vibrant red. He is very passionately in love with her and it shows in the color. He also only had to think of her to get such a huge stone, and although that's also due to the fact that he has such a powerful control over his alice, it's also impressive that just thinking of her yielded such results.

It is after this lecture that Mikan is finally made aware of the true meaning behind exchanging alice stones and the romantic significance it can carry. Anna and Nonoko explain that the romantic tradition is what inspires girls to give stones with their chocolates on Valentine’s Day, and that it can also connote a proposal of marriage.

Mikan freaks out now that she knows what she and Ruka essentially promised. Natsume can see that she’s freaking out, but because he saved himself this humiliation by rejecting Mikan’s stone, the only person he’d really be concerned for is Ruka, whose feelings he was initially protecting by not telling Mikan anything that night.

Before anything crazy can really happen, everyone starts the lesson and gets to work making their stones. Although Iinchou and Hotaru are more successful, making stones that can actually be seen and held without a microscope, the rest of Class B isn’t quite as skilled yet. They’re all exhausted from the effort, even if it only gave them pebbles as a result, and all somewhat embarrassed and depressed that they couldn’t make bigger stones.

So Tono suggests they play “Alice Stone in the Dark”, that is, that you find someone in the dark and when the lights come back on, you have to exchange stones. Class B only gets really into this idea at the concept of getting their hands on a useful alice to make the most of the possible combinations.

He has this expression for the whole scene. He's so cute when he's flustered.

Thus the game begins, and even Natsume participates, albeit reluctantly. He’s probably just trying to avoid other people and possibly being forced to exchange stones--because he’s not going to make one on the spot and he doesn’t want to give away the stone that rightfully belongs to Mikan.

It turns out luck is on his side, because someone grabs his hand and when the light comes back on, the person is Mikan! She smiles in relief that she was able to find him, and explains that she wanted to force her stone on him. She keeps blabbing on and he doesn’t say a single word the whole time, just standing there shocked because of all the people in the class, Mikan wanted to give her stone specifically to him.

He's never gonna lose that tiny pebble... this is one of the best things that's ever happened to him.

It’s tiny and practically unusable, but that doesn’t matter to him. This little pebble is enough for him. She wanted to give him her stone, because she cares about him, and that gesture is enough to finally spur Natsume into leaving her his alice stone by her bedroom window. It’s more or less anonymous, but he wants her to know that she is thoroughly loved too, even if she has no idea who loves her this much.

Chapter Seventy-Three

It’s Valentine’s Day, otherwise Hell on Earth for popular Alice Academy boys. The romantic and sweet ingredients for chocolates at a normal school are replaced with potions and chemicals and pranks. The more popular and beloved you are, the worse your experience on Valentine’s Day will be.

Mikan decides to give her chocolates to all her friends, but they make it clear to her that accepting chocolate from anyone less than your true love would be terribly risky and stupid, so even if she does give it to all her friends, they probably wouldn’t eat them.

Maybe I’m wrong, but Natsume, who’s looking through a Sanrio catalog, wouldn’t be all that bothered about being one of many to receive chocolate from her. She specifically selected him to receive her pathetic alice stone, after all, and he’s made peace with the fact that they can never be together.

He does get bothered later, however.

He’s hiding, because it’s Valentine’s Day and he’s incredibly popular. He has an overly passionate fan club and closet admirers from all over campus, so being out in the open is dangerous business. He stays in the vents for a while, and thus he witnesses Mikan giving Ruka some Valentine chocolate, asking him to be the first to accept them. They both escape the classroom, Mikan dropping a little baggy of chocolates as she goes.

Natsume drops down and decides that he will be the first to accept them, actually, and eats them. It’s not anything huge, and Mikan won’t even find out that he ate them until a year later, but for now, he’s just acting on his own. He can be selfish here because nobody else knows about it. It’s just a harmless little thing to make himself feel better, with absolutely no consequences. Besides, he finds the chocolate disgusting, so no harm no foul.

Natsume, she couldn't have asked you first, she didn't even know where you were!

The climax of the chapter happens when all the most popular boys in school: Tsubasa, Tono, Natsume, among others, are all running from a stampede of rabid and sadistic girls. They’re flinging chocolates willy-nilly, desperate to get a catch. One is heading right towards Mikan, so Natsume gets in the way, catching it just in time, right when a girl flings one into his mouth.

Natsume has just consumed a love potion chocolate, selflessly, for Mikan (this chapter is so silly), so of course he’s now infatuated with Tsubasa, who is terrified, because it’s embarrassing and because Natsume will be pissed when the potion wears off.

This is very romantic but very ridiculous. Natsume really does take protecting Mikan quite seriously.

More or less, since the love potion is like a pheromone extract, we can see how Natsume has changed in his reactions to such an alice. In the very first chapter, Natsume passed out entirely from the pheromones. Misaki explained that someone entirely inexperienced in romance would pass out immediately, but Natsume is no longer inexperienced, so there’s way more of an effect.

The chapter isn’t particularly important, especially compared to the alice stone one, but it’s a silly little break from the real drama.

Chapter Seventy-Four

The next two chapters are joint, forming the little “Elementary Graduation” arc. We find out that students are to remain at the academy until they are twenty years old, so Natsume wouldn’t have to just power through another seven years, but nine until he could truly be free, and that’s much harder to accomplish.

Anyway, Mikan has seen the senior graduation and is inspired to do something special for the elementary graduation. She doesn’t just want to sing a lame song, she wants to do a special performance! Thus begins the drama of Sumire bossing everyone around because she’s one of the only kids with any real musical talent in a class full of amateurs.

One such amateur proves to be Natsume, who confidently selects the sax to play. Everyone, so convinced that he is talented at everything, is shocked to see how horribly he plays his instrument. Class B gets more and more enraged with Sumire’s attitude, only in part because the only lackluster performer she won’t call out is Natsume, who plays the worst of all of them.

The class breaks in two, and Sumire decides that she will play solo with two other partners who are musically inclined, leaving everyone in the dust. They cheer up eventually, when Ruka leads the class in an impromptu playing session, where everyone prioritizes fun over sound. Even Natsume joins in with his sax, and he seems to be making progress.

It's not a mandatory project, but he wants to join in anyway. (At some point Ruka comments, "You've gotten quite attached to that sax, haven't you?" which is cute because it shows Natsume doesn't just want to fit in, he's also genuinely interested in that specific instrument. Anyway Natsume as a famous jazz performer--)

Natsume electing to join in is very interesting. He doesn’t have to do this, especially because he’s terrible at the sax. He’s choosing to have fun with everyone and learn something new, even if everyone can see how bad he is to start with. He’s finally allowing himself to make friends, not just with Mikan, but with the whole class. He’s in a different place than in the first few chapters. Sure, he still has a fan club and devoted followers, but instead of viewing them as vessels to pass the time at best and annoyances at worst, he now considers them his friends. He wants to spend time with them and have fun together. And, no it wouldn’t have happened without Mikan’s help, but Natsume had to accept the change. He helped go on a mission to save Iinchou and Hotaru, to help Class B, and ever since he’s been slowly getting more involved in class. His birthday in particular also highlighted that his classmates care genuinely about him, so it’s made him all the more willing to repay the favor.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Mikan wants the two rival factions to make up, specifically Sumire and Koko. Nothing she says is enough to inspire peace and she’s distraught that no progress is being made.

She sees Natsume and Ruka playing with fireworks for no reason. They can tell instantly that she’s still bothered about Permy’s falling out from the rest of the class. Last chapter, Ruka tried to help Mikan by cheering everyone up and starting a little music session. This chapter, Natsume gives her advice. He says all relationships have ups and downs, and Permy is just aggravating the situation because she’s a kid and doesn’t know better. They all care about each other; they just need time to figure it out. And besides, he says, it’s way more Mikan’s style to give them an excuse to make up rather than forcing them to communicate. This cheers Mikan up and she runs off to come up with an idea.

They haven't known each other for a full year even but he still knows her pretty well. How cute!

Ruka teases Natsume for watching her and being a stalker, and we can see that despite what Natsume said about all relationships going through fights every once in a while, Natsume and Ruka won’t be having a fight anytime soon, least of all over Mikan. They accept each other’s feelings and are just happy to be happy and crushing on a girl together.

And Natsume has been paying attention, clearly, because he always keeps his eye on Mikan. Of course, he does this to keep her safe, because she’s being used against him by the DA Class, but also because he loves her. He wants to know everything about her, and see her everyday, so naturally small things about her would click into place for him.

Later, when Mikan figures out how to make everyone make up, Natsume is one of the first people to step up and help Permy. He’s helping Mikan too, because what she wanted more than anything was for everyone to make up, and it will help give the rest of the class the courage to step up too. He loves her, so he’s willing to embarrass himself playing the sax to help her bring everyone together again.

Conclusion

Chapter Seventy-Six has almost no Natsume in it, and his few appearances are pretty unimportant. He doesn’t do or say anything, so I felt comfortable skipping it. Anyway, these little chapters showed just how much Natsume has changed since he met Mikan. He’s now involved with the class, willing to have fun and embarrass himself. He is much more like he was before the academy stole all his vivaciousness. Of course, he’ll never be that kid again. He’ll always be more mature and selfless than he should be, but at least he can smile and laugh with the others for now. In the next essay, we’ll see that happiness evaporate as the academy narrows in on Mikan.

I don't think I'll be able to post on Monday, sadly. I'll try to post next Friday instead to make up for it, and to keep up four-day-a-week posting. I don't want y'all to catch up to where I am quite yet, so I'm going to put in a lot of effort into writing as much as I can whenever I can over these next few weeks. Thanks for reading, beloveds.

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[seventfics]

Autumn Birds

Written for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: We fell in love, but your previous lover reappeared/returned Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier (w/ past!Geralt/Eskel and past!Geralt/Jaskier) Rating: T Content Warnings: None Summary: They’d met just as the leaves were turning yellow. 

Read on AO3

* * *

They’d met just as the leaves were turning yellow.

Jaskier had heard of a witcher staying in town and, as was his prerogative since his acquaintance with a certain White Wolf, he’d ventured to see what the man was all about. It was not so often one got to meet someone of their caste. Why not have a little courage to break the ice himself?

The whispers spoke of a witcher with a terribly scarred face. Two swords strapped over his back, their pommels shaped into wolf heads. The women said he had a voice like a dog’s growl, so grave that when he spoke, it made children cry.

He thought that last bit was rather mean, and followed the trail of curses into a grimy tavern where a fight was about to break out.

“You promised fifty.”

“The best I can do is half.”

Jaskier’s hand freezes on the door. Whatever he’s come to doesn’t look good. The witcher’s back is to him, his padded shoulders raised with tension. The village’s alderman paces in front of him, fuming over a contract’s fee. There’s a few antsy people in the crowd too. The anger written on their faces makes him nervous.

He’s seen how this ends a dozen times. It’s gotten his own arse kicked butting into the middle of a witcher’s bargaining, actually.

“Now, now, gentlemen,” Jaskier interjects boisterously from the doorframe anyway. “This is no mood for drink and cheer. Calm your spirits with a little of the former—”

The alderman grumbles under his breath about merry idiots meddling in what they shouldn’t. “Shut up, bard. This here’s serious business. And I’m not about to be robbed by a witcher’s ridiculous high prize.”

“It’s not ridiculous. The contract says fifty, and,” the witcher stops to lift the bloody stump of a water hag’s head, “it’s already done.”

“That contract was up weeks ago. The reward’s gone down. You’re lucky half’s on the table at all.”

The witcher grunts—a familiar sound to Jaskier’s ears which translates to wordless annoyance—and drops the head on the floor. “You’re lucky the hag didn’t move closer into the village in that time.”

“Is that a threat?”

At the rising outrage in his tone, Jaskier slips closer to stare at the alderman over the witcher’s swordless shoulder. “Ah, I believe the witcher means more of your people would have died, had he not taken care of the problem so promptly. The reward hardly sounds like an unreasonable amount. I could get twice as much on a profitable eve of singing. In fact,” he flips to the witcher, who does not yet deign to look back at his unforeseen defender, “I could turn this place around and earn us both a decent share in one night. I’m no fop on the job!”

It’s then that the witcher looks towards him, but the bard only manages a quick glimpse of an incredulous set of eyebrows before the alderman starts shouting.

“Get out! Both of you! Out of my town or I’ll have the dogs chase you out!”

They both take that as their leave, Jaskier with a bit more speed in his jog.

At the outskirts the witcher turns fully, and at the sight of his whole face Jaskier almost gasps out loud. A long scar runs through his cheek, from eyebrow to jaw, and over his lips. It puckers the skin all around it, disfiguring half of his face.

Whatever caused that scar must have hurt a lot.

The witcher shifts in place, quiet for a long second as Jaskier does his best to hide his nerves. “I’m sorry to have involved you.”

“Oh, please, don’t be. I involved myself. Jaskier’s the name, by the way,” he introduces himself, hand extended in greeting.

The witcher scratches the back of his head. His lips twist to one side, bashful. One of his teeth peeks through the scarred tissue over his mouth. “Uh. Eskel.” He takes the offered hand and shakes it.

It’s the firmest handshake Jaskier has ever received.

“Well, Eskel. Are you short on coin? Because so am I.”

The snort he gets is—soft. Not at all like the gruff from before, with the alderman.

“I’m not doing too bad, I’d say. Just currently fifty short of what I expected to have at the end of the day.”

"How about I help with that? I wasn't lying when I said I could earn both a decent share, given the right crowd."

It's the sunset hour, and the leaves were falling on top of them. Everything is gold. The sky, the trees. Eskel’s eyes when they blink at him and he breaks into a genuine laugh.

Jaskier knows he’s a romantic. His heart flutters every odd day over strangers with pretty smiles. He’s just never seen such a shy, sweet smile on someone with such an intimidating facade.

Making him smile again became a personal quest.

* * *

At the next town over, Eskel speaks to the alderman there. This one is more reasonable at least, and up front about the sort of beast that lurks in the northern farms. Which brings up a whole new conversation as Jaskier doesn’t part from Eskel’s side despite the obvious danger.

Eskel grunts and sits him down, not unlike the times Geralt tried—and failed—to convince him to stay put. Jaskier just blinks his pretty blue eyes and says, “and how will I write a song of your prowess in battle if I am not there to witness it?”

“This is a dangerous contract, bard. It would be best if you let me handle it alone.”

“Oh no. No, no, I’ve heard that before a dozen times.”

Eskel pauses at that. “What?”

“I am perfectly capable of staying out of your way.”

The wyvern they encounter says otherwise.

To be fair, he had done a good job of staying out of the witcher’s way for most of the fight. It is only when the beast slams its tail into Eskel’s side on a backswing that Jaskier shouts in worry from his hiding place and brings undue attention to himself.

Wind whips around him for a split second, scattering dust into his eyes. It takes a moment to wipe them clean so of course he doesn’t see the great shadow flying at him. Doesn't realize the immediate need to hide or flee for his life until a giant claw snatches him by the bunched fabric on his back.

Jaskier's stomach plummets as he soars up. The ground recedes. His clothes start to rip. This is it, he panic-screams in his mind, this is his final day. Either as monster food or a blood splatter on a rock, his time has come.

A severe overreaction, and his own mistake for not trusting in a witcher's skill. He doesn't realize it in all, what with all his flailing about, but Eskel fires a crossbow bolt perfectly at the wyvern’s eye.

The beast screeches terribly loud in his ears. It flaps its wings once, twice, before twisting midair and letting him go.

They both fall, but Eskel catches him.

By the silence that follows after an earth-shaking crunch, he knows the witcher's won. Victory is not immediately on his mind, though. The way his sight spins and the sun paints a halo behind Eskel's hair, Jaskier dumbly thinks, oh—I've quite literally fallen in love.

“See?” he says instead, breathless with terror at almost having died, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Eskel raises a thick brow at him. And he's smiling too, the bard thinks. Could just be the scar making it look like a lopsided smile, but he wants to believe that he's made the witcher smile again with his foolish sense of humor.

“Are you alright? The tail,” Jaskier frets once his vision settles. Some of these monsters have poisoned stingers on the end of their tails. Are wyverns one of them?

But Eskel waves him down before he can consider the worst. “Relax. I cast Quen in time.”

“That’s a, uh, magic shield, right?”

Surprise colors Eskel's features. So it seems he's right. A point of pride on Jaskier's belt for remembering witcher signs.

Getting proof of a contract well done takes the witcher a good minute to collect. Wyvern skin is tough. The head would normally satisfy as proof, but it's too heavy to be lugging around town. He will have to make do with the wing tips. Should they question him, the remains aren't going anywhere.

“Come on, bard. Time to get our day's work done. And after that, we're going west.”

“'We'?” Something about the proclamation has his heart beating fast.

“'Course. I'm not letting you out of my sight now.”

He makes a show of bowing dramatically. “I wouldn’t want to be elsewhere.”

* * *

“You’re a friend of Geralt’s.”

Jaskier looks up from his notes.

Traveling with someone is always interesting—with a witcher even more so. So far he's learned that Eskel has far more routines than Geralt ever did, like counting his coin at the end of every week, and making sure he has two of every potion ready.

Jaskier quirks a half-smile. “I am. How did you figure? I never said his name.”

“Your song.” He points to the scribbled mess on his lap. “Or, I guess your work in progress. I see an expression he uses a lot, that he learned from me.”

“Oh?”

Eskel sits by him and nods, as if finally understanding Jaskier’s odd ease partnering with a witcher, and starts the story of where the expression in his handwriting originated from.

It’s funny at first, imagining a much younger, somehow more foolish Geralt together with this huge, frightening man who is not frightening at all to talk to. Eskel speaks so softly, so tenderhearted about the old memory—two boys, witchers-to-be, practically joined at the hip, making crude jokes. So he reciprocates with a tale of where he comes from, as destiny deigned to put them in each other’s paths.

As it happens, a lot of their first stories aren’t even their own, but Geralt’s.

And Eskel has many more over his. He’s more than happy to share them over camp.

Some of it leaves Jaskier’s throat aching. This is someone who clearly cares about his big grumpy friend. It's someone he can understand.

Then Eskel claps a bare hand on his back, his thumb and forefinger a hot press just under his nape, and oh, he’s more than a little foolishly in love actually, as his head is emptied of all reason at the small touch.

“Am I to become your travel bard,” Jaskier quips with an airy giggle. “I’m excellent entertainment at parties.”

“Not for long. It’s almost winter. Soon I’ll have to head north to meet my brothers.”

His heart sinks. “Oh.”

Eskel squeezes his shoulder with careful strength. “You better keep out of trouble while I’m gone, you hear?”

“Of course. I don’t go looking for trouble.”

“No, trouble just finds you.”

Well, if ‘trouble’ is a scarred, smirking witcher, he sure hopes that to be true.

* * *

They meet again when the trees are just beginning to color with spring blooms.

There is also a griffin tearing through the town's cattle, but that’s besides the point. Easily dealt with. Which is good, seeing as Jaskier had been near the scene and probably next on the menu. No one had told him about the griffin, so really. He's just as surprised to find Eskel as he is about the beast.

“You alright, bard?”

“I am now.”

Matter resolved, Jaskier walks in step next to Eskel. The town opens before them, welcoming the witcher not with smiles, but grudging gratitude.

“You sure? Trouble didn’t come knocking while I was gone?”

“Only a man with a lover’s grudge come to kick my ass out of a wonderfully luxurious establishment. Didn’t even get to enjoy the hot bath I paid for, which is such a terrible waste of hot water.”

A deep hum comes out of the witcher. “A lover’s grudge?”

“Just a past dalliance that won’t forget me.”

Eskel stops and shifts on his feet, like he wants to say something but he doesn’t know how to start.

Oh, witchers and their awkward conversation skills.

“You know what, I’m starving. I think a good, hearty meal is owed between us. What do you say we go collect your reward and we break fast at the alderman’s recommendation?”

“We don’t have to get the coin right now. I could go for some food.”

“First tavern we see then. Come on.”

Right as he says it, he wraps his arm around Eskel’s, and maybe he’s just being too obvious, too hopeful, but Eskel doesn’t shrug him off. They make their way to a large and welcoming tavern, him talking his head off about the barn smell that permeates the whole town and ignoring the dark looks people give them down the street, as Eskel listens, not a word coming from his mouth. It worries Jaskier a minute that he’s becoming more annoyance than the teasing meddler he wants to be. But Eskel is just scratching his chin, looking down and letting Jaskier lead.

When it becomes clear that Eskel doesn’t have any rented lodgings yet, Jaskier offers his own. “I’m sure the innkeeper won’t mind us bunking if we pay for two, at the end of our stay.”

Eskel doesn't say no. He also doesn't say yes. It takes them finally being settled in a table of their own, full of fruits, cheese and bread, neither of them taking the first bite to eat, for Jaskier to nervously ask, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” comes the too-quick response.

“If I overstepped in some way, please tell me.”

“It’s nothing like that, I—uh.” Eskel shakes his head, his expression scrunched up unpleasantly.

“Whatever it is, I won’t be offended.”

He's already writing a million apologies in his head for any of his imagined offenses, that he's not quite prepared for what Eskel says instead.

“You are...different from what I expected.”

Jaskier blinks. “How so?”

“I don’t know. You’re just. Human. You’re normal.” He makes a point of gesturing at the table, the people keeping their distance. “I don’t get why you do all this for me.”

It's slow-creeping, but once the pieces align, Jaskier starts to understand what he means. That confusion, he’s known it with Geralt. Why do you stick with me? What does a witcher have to offer a human that isn’t the service of a silver sword? What does a human want with a mutant when there are plenty of other ordinary, uncomplicated folk in the world to have for company?

“Because you’re a good man,” he tells the witcher gently. “Because you saved my life and I want to repay you in kind. Most reasonably of all, because we’re friends, and friends take care of each other.”

Of course there’s more to it than that, but if a friend is all Eskel wants, then a friend he shall be.

The rumble of the tavern fills the air as Eskel stares at him a little wide-eyed. Jaskier gives him a slight smile. As a close, he pushes the platter of cheese forward with an encouraging, “now eat your fill, my friend.”

Once Eskel returns his smile, he thinks that, well, that everything will turn out alright.

And they’re happy eating their food when Geralt shows up for the griffin that’s already dead.

At his distinct silhouette, Eskel stands up. “White Wolf.”

“Eskel,” Geralt calls back gravely.

They clasp arms and pat each other’s shoulders in sync. It might not seem like much to outsiders, but what a rare sight to behold—two witchers, two mirrored grins on both their faces.

Eskel is the first to part from the hug with a chiding, “You didn’t come for winter.”

“I know. I had a lot going on. Saw your handiwork hooked to your horse’s saddle.” Then he looks down, and spots Eskel's table company. “Jaskier?”

“Geralt.”

Their held eye-contact feels longer than it is. Looking away, Jaskier half expects the whole tavern to be staring at them, but as it turns out, no one cares to pay the witchers and their odd bard any attention now that the monster's been dealt with. It's just him, imagining his heart hanging out of his sleeve for everyone to judge.

And maybe Eskel senses something's up between them, because he leaves them with the excuse to collect his coin.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jaskier says after Geralt takes Eskel's abandoned seat. “Have you really been so busy that you couldn’t let your friends know you were alive?”

Geralt's silence is its own answer—a little shame, a little remorse. He remembers how Eskel had said that as time went on, Geralt just, lost touch. There had been something heavy in Eskel’s eyes when he said it, and Jaskier had felt it in his soul. Now he understands why. Him and Eskel, they'd both gone through the same impossible task of loving someone who doesn’t believe he can be loved.

By gods, he still loves Geralt, but Geralt's heart is a rusty cage, and neither of them can coax the old bird that lives in it anymore. Soft words and gentle promises have run their course.

“So,” the witcher starts, “you and Eskel? Didn't know you knew each other.”

“Maybe if you’d met either of us during winter you would have heard.” The phrasing's rough, but there's no resentment in his voice. He would have liked to know that Geralt had been safe in his wintering home, with Eskel.

“Yeah. I’m...surprised.” Jaskier raises his brow at him. Which just earns a quick shake of Geralt’s head. “He doesn’t make friends easily.”

“Neither do you, and yet look at us.”

“Look at us,” he echoes, staring at the empty plates.

“We missed a lot of opportunities together, didn’t we?” It doesn't make the truth any easier to swallow, but acknowledging the what-could-have-beens has always made him feel better afterward. Like closing a book, and getting ready to open a new one. He hopes Geralt knows that there's no bridges destroyed between them. Only those missed moments.

He still very much cares for Geralt, and he knows that Geralt does as well. They just have to come to terms with what's over—and what might come next.

“I won’t lie to you,” Jaskier adds more seriously. “I don’t want to miss any opportunities with him.”

The 'him' in question is unmistakable. Geralt nods. He looks down, one end of his mouth drawing up to dimple his cheek.

He says, like an olive branch offering, “His favorite flower is yarrow. Not because they’re pretty, but because they’re useful in the most surprising ways.”

* * * 

They spend the day catching up, all three of them, before Geralt is on the road again, taking his own path. Jaskier sees how it brightens Eskel’s spirits to have seen him off, and cheers up twofold. 

“I’ve known him practically my whole life,” Eskel tells him.

“I’ve known him half of mine.”

“So you understand.”

“That he’s a prat? Oh yes. Good at heart, backwards about verbalizing it. Cheeky when he wants to be. Oh by the way, here.”

From out of his little travel bag, Jaskier pulls a swathe of yarrows.

“Saw some at market street,” he explains, presenting them. “Thought you might find use in them for your potions.”

Eskel turns to him, his bright witcher eyes bouncing between him and the yarrows. Jaskier feels his heart climb up his throat, wondering what runs through Eskel's mind that makes him pause for so long.

Then Eskel takes them with one hand and with the other, he touches Jaskier’s face. It's big, warm, calloused against his skin. And sudden.

“‘Cheeky when he wants to be’, right?”

Jaskier stutters to say, “Well, yes, I mean, but this isn’t about him—”

He forgets how to speak after Eskel kisses him. It’s the lightest peck on the corner of his lips, so light that once he draws back, he wonders if he's not still dreaming back in their rented room.

“Thank you. I know just what to use them for.”

The yarrow gets tucked away with the other herbs in Eskel's saddlebag. A few glasses clink together as he moves things around so they don’t get crushed. And then, as Jaskier stands there, stupefied and slack-jawed, Eskel mounts his steed, a soot-black beauty that neighs softly at Jaskier’s face.

“Where are you headed for now?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere.” Wherever you’ll go, he thinks to himself. Wherever you'll have me.

Eskel grins wide at him, and it's the most beautiful sight, his smile, with all his teeth gleaming.

“That sounds like trouble.”

[ffxiv-angora]

Day 3: Scale

Tagging @liyeraaurel since she's mentioned <3

Angora let out a long-suffering sigh while staring over the top of her glasses at the small package on her desk. It was from Shria, one of Yera’s youngest. The girl had found something on her travels and requested her help in identifying it. There’d even been a small pouch of gil included in the deal. Angora hadn’t asked for any sort of compensation seeing as she was one of Yera’s brood, but she also had a feeling the payment was more to guarantee that this remains a private matter. As if Yera needed any more of her children doing questionable things behind her back. Just another reason for Angora to question her dear friend’s life choices when it came to having so many children. But that wasn’t her business.

The package didn’t even need to be opened for Angora to get a good idea of what was inside. Anyone aetherically inclined would be able to feel the anger rolling off its contents. It was one Angora had encountered before. She could spend her whole evening just staring at the parchment-wrapped bundle instead of confirming her fears. But it needed to be done. Might as well get it over with.

As expected, a few scales and even a bone fragment tumbled from the package once the twine was undone. Where had Shria even found these? Though...there wasn’t exactly a shortage of dragon remains to be found depending on where you look. Angora carefully picked up one scale that was larger and thicker than the rest. It likely came from closer to the back of the creature.

The aether still contained within them was a meager amount. The largest scale obviously held more within it along with the bone fragment. Angora cautiously reached out with her own aether to inspect them further. The back of her mind was immediately filled with ear-piercing roars and limitless rage. It had Angora blinking and pinching the bridge of her nose while it echoed. Whoever these had belonged to in life had not died in a peaceful manner. Their rage lived on long after death. Not exactly a surprise considering the source.

Despite this, it was nothing that could overtake someone like other draconic relics she’d been around. It’d give even the weakest of will a migraine at most. The problem was Angora had no clue what it was that Shria had planned. It was completely within reason to assume the curious girl had picked them up with the intent of just adding them to a collection. She always had all sorts of feathers and such in her possession.

Either way...it was not of concern to her. Angora had done what she was paid to do.

She would warn the girl of the danger, of course. Possibly even send word to her mother if necessary despite the gil she’d been given. But some lessons must be learned through experience. It’d be up to Shria on whether she’d heed the warnings.

Yera's children would be the death of her. A few had already meddled with the void. Now it was dragons? Twelve help her.

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Friendly Encounters- Chapter Eight

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Smut, Angst

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Racism, Yoongi and Jimin are angels, Graphic depictions of sex, really angsty

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 4.9k

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

Masterlist

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                         ______________________

“I’m gonna cum, I’m close!” Yoongi’s entire body shakes and shudders underneath you as you voraciously fuck him with all your strength. You aren’t going easy on him at all, using the lube and your hands to simultaneously jerk him off as well. The sounds he makes are delicious, absolutely delightful as your mouth waters at his small, high-pitched whines. Thank God you have pillows, but unfortunately you still had to keep the noise level to a minimum.

As Yoongi cries under you and shudders once more, you lower yourself slowly, spreading his cheeks with your hands. You both were sweaty, horny, and so very exhausted. Yet with the feeling of your strap applying pressure to Yoongi’s boy-pussy, he knows that he doesn’t want it to end so soon. Him and Jimin had spent hours together, playing in bed. Why couldn’t you have the same? Even if you had sex in the cabin and you spent a lot of time together anyways.

There was always something lacking, and that was the sexual intimacy between you and Yoongi. You knew it was a matter of time before you found a dynamic that worked for you.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum on my fingers, I want you to feel good too.” You start acting like you have a dick too, as Yoongi moans loudly into the pillow once more, his release building up as you shift again, your pussy drenched completely from seeing him all vulnerable like this.

“I want you to cum too,” He’s puddy in your hands, as you stroke his arms and press the softest kisses to his shoulders. “Cum with me kit-AH Y/N!” He’s writhing in pleasure as you pump his cock between your hands, and with him hunched over on the bed it makes it even easier for you to lean forward and brush your dildo across his throbbing hole. Despite removing it earlier, his puckered hole is still wide, and so ready for penetration.

You tested him first with a finger before taking your vibrator and bringing it down to the base of his cock.

“Damn, I think you’d cum right now if you saw your ass. So fucking perfect, round and squishy. No wonder Jimin moans so much with you.” You both groan as you decide to stop playing around and actually fuck him again, this time, tightening your belt before rolling your hips against his soft cheeks.

“You’re so sexy, and wonderful. I love you, Y/N.” You softly kiss his lips before pulling out and surrendering to sleep. You need a lot of rest, after that intense workout.

“Love you too, Yoongles. Also, Jimmy’s gonna kill us tomorrow but that’s fine because you looked so hot submissive like that and I had fun. I never thought a fake cock could make me feel so powerful.” His giggles are like music to your ears. You were starting to get used to the sound.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I play dom most of the time. It’s a hell of a lot more fun when I get to play with you two and I get to use my cock as death.” It’s your turn to laugh, as he makes it sound like a weapon or power move of some sort.

“I hope you aren’t in too much pain, I got a little carried away.” You sigh, rubbing your thighs together anxiously.

“What? Nah, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but I think I’ll be able to sit. Let’s just say, if I can’t sit, it’ll be considered a win for you.” Your blond boyfriend gives you a wink as you reply with an, “Okay, I’ll take that. As long as we get to do this again, and maybe I can even fuck you in the tub!” Yoongi cringes at your words.

“Let’s not get too ambitious. On three let’s say it together, 1,2,3: Let’s not get too ambitious.” You both giggle the rest of the night away, concentrating more on each other than cleaning up your mess made of dildos, lube, and straps. You were too lazy to get out of bed, and Yoongi was keeping you busy, so you didn’t really have a reason to, other than cleaning up.

“Oh, aren’t you guys going back to work tomorrow?” You ask, as Yoongi pulls you in for a tight hug.

“Sweetie, we used up pretty much all of our vacation days with you. It doesn’t mean we won’t ever get time off from work again, but officially, we’re back on full-time duty.” You had forgotten how much older your boyfriends had been than you. You were so close with them that the age difference slipped your mind.

It wasn’t like they were in their mid-thirties, you could understand their problems, since they had no other way of making money. Plus, they were dating their landlord’s daughter, they didn’t want to feel indebted because of you.

As easy as they make the relationship seem, you still feel uncertain at times. Actions speak louder than words, you were thinking of doing a large gesture for them. Something to let your boyfriends know you appreciate them.

“I know you like working at the café, but wouldn’t you like to be a music producer, Yoongi?” Your boyfriend wraps a towel around you before throwing his boxers back on and checking if the hallway is clear first before pulling you towards the bathroom.

“I already sold one of my songs. It gave me quite a bit of money, so I think I’ll keep doing it.” Your heart fell at that statement. You were really hoping your boyfriend was making his own profits from releasing his own albums on spotify, but it seems that he did the opposite, not even getting credit for his own tracks.

“That’s not right. Those people won’t even credit you, now that you sold the rights of that song to some heavily produced company. It’s like some crappy teen drama, where everything is forced instead of being introduced and built on. You can’t just sell your music and expect it to resonate with them.”

“Slow down, I don’t recall telling you who I sold the music to. Don’t jump to conclusions without learning all the facts first.” Yoongi snaps at you before folding his arms together, as you check the water in the shower to make sure it’s warm enough for you to step in.

This wasn’t your first time showering together, you already had that experience back in the mountains, during your first and only romantic getaway with your boyfriends. You felt comfortable being naked in his presence now, enough to trust him to retain a little bit of self-control when he’s in the same position.

“Fine, I see your point. Who did you sell your music to?” You turn around, making sure your hair gets wet too. Yoongi had some shower gel in his hands so he was currently lathering your arms and shoulders. He was saving your more sensitive areas for last, since he saw your nipples harden when you stepped into the water.

“J-Hope. I actually made the beats for Outro: Ego.” Your eyes widened at this new bit of information. Yoongi never bragged about it, or bought it up. Even that time you were actually at that concert, listening to that same song. How did he fail to let you in on something so important? Did he think that telling you was a waste of time?

“Yoongi, that’s amazing. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have supported you regardless.” He sighs, looking elsewhere to take his mind off his thoughts of work. Music was a hobby of his, one that he was good at. He just wanted to make a profit without worrying you. 

He knew if he told you about the side projects he was working on, you would get very worried and then go way over your head before having the entire thing explode in your face. You weren’t the most graceful girl in the world, you were clumsy and that’s why Yoongi fell for you.

Your “I can do it,” attitude had its setbacks, as you often got too serious about simple things and overcomplicated in your head, he knew you were currently doing just that. Your perseverance was admirable, though.

“I’m gonna tell you this just once, kitten. You might have not noticed it but you have a bad habit of meddling, and when you do that, it makes trouble for others. Please understand that I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to stick your head in it. It’s my music, and I know what I want to do with it.”

You weren’t offended. Your first thoughts were, ‘Oh, he’s telling me to drop the subject. I can do that,’ but as time progressed, you found yourself growing anxious. You knew Yoongi deeply cared for his songs, and the little free time he spent with you was taking away from his hobby. You wanted him to focus on his career, and become a better artist.

So, you decided to get Yoongi a whole setup using your birthday money. You were saving up to buy something big, but it seems that Yoongi needs your help more than ever.

You go to amazon, adding foam panels and lots of tech equipment to your cart. You spent exactly $228 after everything and you still had about $300 remaining in your birthday cash. You got $500 from your Grandma.

You yawn before crawling into bed for some sleep. Since you spent your day focused on Yoongi, you failed to remember that you hadn’t seen one of your boyfriends the entire day.

                ༻• Thursday, At School •༺

School took a toll on your mental health. You needed a break, even though you just started. The public education system was seriously messed up, making you work double of what you had to do over break. The only thing that made it bearable was your group chat with your boyfriends.

You lock your phone, uneasiness washing over you like an ocean wave. You wish you could go to the beach. Spring seemed neverending and all you could think of was fucking your boyfriends like a bunny in heat.

School passes by slowly, and just as you’re on your way to the café, Jaehyun stops you.

“Jae, hey what’s up?” He looks bruised and battered. You can tell something is horribly wrong.

“The cops arrested my buddies, it was horrible. If you know me, you know I’m not a bad kid. Those guys weren’t either, they were just chilling in my living room, vaping, when a cop busted my door down and arrested like six of my friends. They were all 14, 15, and 16. Not even legal adults, what the fuck is wrong with the justice system?”

“Do you know where they are?” You don’t ask many questions, immediately getting your phone out to text your boyfriends and mom about the situation, since they all knew your daily schedule. Jaehyun was an old friend of yours, too, you couldn’t just leave him.

“They were taken down to the local police station on 95th street. Oh, it was terrible Y/N. They beat me up and I was actually just asking them what my friends did wrong. After that, my parents kicked me out for good. So now I’m homeless.”

“I thought you said you moved out a long time ago?” You help lower him to sit on a bench so he can calm down.

“I-I did, but then those guys were dealing drugs. I didn’t want to be friends with them anymore. So I moved back home.” He starts crying, tears flowing down his cheeks. You had never seen Jaehyun so sensitive in such a long time, that was probably because you made the wrong assumptions about him. 

“Alright, I’ve texted my mom and two other roommates of mine to let them know the situation. Yoongi and Jimin should be here any minute.” You continue comforting your crying friend as your boyfriends pull up to you and Jaehyun. You help him into the car as Jaehyun looks at Jimin with confusion written all over his face.

“Hey, aren’t you the pervert who tried coming onto my girlfriend?” Yoongi mistakes him for Jungkook, as he gets a bad view of him from the front seat.

“No...and what do you mean your girlfriend? You’re dating that guy, right?” He points at Jimin, confusion apparent on his face.

“We’ll explain later. For now, just tell them what you told me. Jimin, full speed ahead to the police station on 95th street.” 

You arrive at the local police station in ten minutes, despite the traffic being horrid. Jimin stepped on the pedal and managed to reach where you needed to go.

“Officer, where are the three young men you arrested from his house?” Yoongi asks, as soon as you reach the police station.

“Oh, those thugs? Yeah, they vandalized private property so we had to jail em. Bail is $200. You can go see ‘em over there.” Jaehyun runs ahead of you to the temporary holding cell in the back of the room.

“Oh my god, guys. Thank goodness you’re okay. I hope they didn’t beat you up too bad?” A tall dark male with some visible tattoos and jet black hair stands up, putting his hand through the cell to hold his friend’s fingers through the bars. You could tell from the grim expression in his eyes that he was used to this. The horrible treatment from the authorities because they assume they’re bad guys. It’s no coincidence that they’re targets because of their dark skin color. Fuck racists, these guys deserve better.

“Nah, we’re fine. We’ve been through worse, right boys?” 

“But still, this is wrong. It’s illegal! They can’t just-”

“Move aside. We’re setting you free, since your brother who’s a district attorney has connections. Just don’t repeat it, okay?” The boys don’t even make a sound as the police officer lets them out of their holding cell and they walk out with their hands behind their heads.

“Are you really used to it? Getting arrested just because some cop thinks you’re dealing drugs or something?” Yoongi’s curiosity gets the best of him, as he asks the boy who spoke to Jaehyun earlier.

“Yep. It happens all the time. Like Marc here was playing basketball out in the driveway once when he was 10 and before we knew it this cop had him pinned down on the ground with his hands over his head. He said the ball looked like a weapon and gave a half-assed apology to us after our neighbor who saw the commotion came outside and told the cop to let go of him. It was really awful, but he got tougher from the experience.” 

You couldn’t imagine a young boy at the age of ten going through something so dramatic and traumatizing in a quaint little town. Even now, the boy standing before you was just a teenager. He had torn jeans and a stylish leather jacket, but you could tell he was a little younger than the rest of the boys in the group.

“That shit ain’t right.” Jimin shakes his head as another boy smacks his arm in agreement.

“You can say that again. We’ve been through some things but it’s not mentally scarring or anything. You can’t beat those racists, huh?!” You bite your lip. You hated bringing up the topic of racism because it is the root of all evil. You hated how parents taught it to their children and it became engraved in humans. Skin color doesn’t determine a person’s worth.

“I guess you’re right. I was the only asian kid in my class in the fifth grade. No one else in that town had a fleck of gold on their skin, they were all pasty white kids. I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently their parents fed them lies and I was never invited to pool parties because they thought my skin was “dirty.” Racism starts at home, man. It doesn’t just appear out of thin air.”

That was the first time you’ve ever heard your boyfriend recite a story from his past so passionately. You had no idea Jimin experienced such shit, especially after going through everything with Jaehyun and his buddies. You’ve never seen high school students look so calm even in the presence of police officers. It’s obviously because they knew they were innocent from the get-go.

“Well, this is where we part ways. I gotta take this uber to my house, catch you later!” You wave as the guy named Marc hops into a taxi and disappears off into the freeway.

“What about you?” Jaehyun gives his friend a puppy-eyed stare as you can tell he wants him to go with him. 

“I’ve gotta go too, bud. It was nice seeing all of you, thanks again for driving down to the station even though we didn’t need your help.”

“Wait!” You stop him before he can get in the waiting taxi. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jaehyun’s.” He gives you a small smile before winking at you.

“I’m Duval. Nice to meet you.” 

                                   ༻• Thursday, At Home •༺

You were back to freaking about your graduation again. Your entire life in school was a waste since you were single, you never hung out with friends, and you spent all your free time doing homework. You wish you could go back and rewind time but you would gladly go through it all again if it means you could meet Jimin and Yoongi again.

You’re so in love with them that you might just marry them. You were at least hoping you could have a commitment ceremony so that you didn’t have to worry about being legally bound to one man when you could be equally committed to both. The problem is, your wallet is more empty than your belly when you aren’t shoving food down your throat.

You dedicated all your time to school that you forgot about the outside world. And now you want to spend it on your boyfriends. Ah, when will the pain end? You needed to start working fast before anything else. There was only two weeks left till your graduation, and your anniversary with the boys was coming up as well.

The very much less anticipated arrival of your father was approaching as well, and you were trying to figure out a way to tell him that you were in love with two boys who you also thought of so fondly that you were ready to give your life to them in exchange of a future of happiness and the fact that you weren’t keen on dating or marrying any of the men your father picked out with wealthy backgrounds.

“Babe, will you stop pacing? It’s making me dizzy.” Jimin sinks in your swivel chair as you walk back and forth in the little space between your bed and the table. Thanks to Jimin’s comment, you were even more antsy, biting your nails out of habit until Yoongi bursts into your room with good news.

“Hoseok said he had a singer friend who heard one of my songs and he loved it!”

“That’s great news, now why don’t you come sit and talk to us so we can get our kitten’s mind off school?” You grimace at Jimin’s attempt to switch topics so nonchalantly as Yoongi excitedly makes his way towards you, cornering you into your own bed as he informs you of his day’s events.

“He said he wants me to go over and play a demo for another song since he’s gonna be in town for a couple more days. Hobi said he got lucky because the guy happened to be in town for his own concert and he was on tour so he would only be here until Sunday evening. It’s a three-day concert.” 

This was great! All the pieces were in place and now all that was left to do was wait for Yoongi’s little surprise to arrive. You were keeping an eye on the online package, since you ordered quite a few items.

“Great, so I’m guessing you’re gonna head on over there after work tomorrow?” You ask, unaware of their current situation.

“Actually, since we took all our time off during your spring break, Jin decided to be extra mean and make us work a double shift on Friday. There’s no way I’d be able to leave in between, even if Jimin covers for me. That’s the only day we can meet, since he planned this on such short notice too.” You stand up, banging the palm of your hand flat against the soft cushion on the swivel chair, Jimin’s head just inches away from your arm.

“I’ll do it!” Your boyfriends stare at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“No, are you crazy?”

“My grades are fine, plus this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. You should go, Yoongi. I’ll take your place in work. How long is a double shift anyways?” You want to so desperately express your love for your neglected boyfriend that you’re willing to go through such lengths. That, and you’d be killing two birds with one stone since you could also spend more time with Jimin. Work is work but mixing a little love won’t hurt anyone.

“If you’re sure. A double shift is 14 hours. You’d have to work 6 hours after school, you think you can handle that?” Right on cue, you get a text from your mom. She’s doing the night shift so she probably wouldn’t notice your absence. You’re a good daughter, though, so you text her to make sure she knows what your plan is. She knew about the little setup you were planning for Yoongi, and she supported you in virtually everything you did. Except for your sex life, she definitely had no clue that you had actually gone further than second base, that’s for sure.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll have you too.” Jimin gives you an endearing smile before pulling you down to his lap. You snuggle into his warm chest, breathing in his sweet scent. You loved your boyfriend with all your heart. The mochi hits differently.

“I’m just gonna...go back to my room.” Yoongi awkwardly makes an exit as Jimin continues nuzzling your neck affectionately. You couldn’t help but feeling a bit guilty, since your other boyfriend seemed a bit troubled and you were sitting here, fooling around with Jimin like some teenage slut.

“He’s more awkward than usual today, you wanna go ask him what’s wrong?” He seems to already know what you’re thinking, as you shift around in his lap and you stay silent for an abnormally long time.

“Normally, I would just give him space but he seems to have a lot on his mind. I hope he isn’t too stressed. The opportunity presented itself and I feel like I forced him to do it.”

“No, baby, what are you saying? Yoongi never does something because someone told him to. He really wanted that deal, you know how long he’s been producing as a hobby? So many people have taken advantage of him in the past but this is the real deal.” You didn’t want to ask Jimin to elaborate, as he shifts in his seat and you feel his body heat rising. He’s sweating as well, so you decide to climb off his lap and onto the bed once again, sitting with your legs and arms crossed when you do.

“I know, that’s why I told him I’d work his shift. He can go visit this producer guy on Saturday and blow the hats off those guys while I flaunt my temporary barista skills.” 

“Honey, if you think I’m letting you anywhere near a coffee machine, you’re dead wrong.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yours and Jimin’s playful banter carries throughout the walls and onto the next room, where Yoongi hears every little exchange between the two of you. To be honest, he’s never felt more insignificant in his life than he does now. With his partners laughing and having fun without him...he felt so self-conscious.

He loved you and Jimin dearly, but sometimes his self-doubts would get in the way of his love for you. He couldn’t trust you because he couldn't completely believe himself. He knew he was in love with Jimin fully, but was he really in love with you? He remembers that very first day when you walked into the coffee shop and openly flirted with his boyfriend. That “friendly” exchange led to something more, something unexpected. 

He never thought he would be the one to initiate the first sexual encounter, but it seemed his fingers had a mind of their own. He developed a little crush on you shortly after you became friends with Jimin, but then his body betrayed him once again when he found out you were living in the same house as him.

He jerked off to the thought of you every day after that, to be honest. He felt dirty, but it felt right. He started getting confused only after you all started dating. You and Jimin were closer than him and Jimin, and him and you. Out of all the combinations, yours was the weakest. 

Sure, you had music in common, but did that really mean anything? Physically, you were more compatible than a glove with a hand, but emotionally, you were distant. He wanted you to follow him out of the room and climb over his back, he truthfully wanted Jimin to kiss his worries away like he always does, and when you were finished, he wanted to be the one to wake you up in the morning just in time for school. He was bad at social interactions, so any dreams of affection were just imaginative unless you took the initiative, or if you were at the right place at the right time.

“Yoongz, I know you better than I know myself. What’s going on in that handsome brain of yours?” His boyfriend is always spot-on when it comes to his emotions. Unlike Yoongi, Jimin excelled at expressing himself and interacting with the world around him. He was like Yoongi’s mouth, at some point. Yoongi had gotten arguably better at expressing himself, though, after meeting you he always put himself out there, just talking to you about whatever was bothering him directly. Of course, Jimin knew this happened only 60% of the time. It’s still a huge improvement for him, Jimin was happy either way. He knows it’s only a matter of time before Yoongi opens up to you completely. A full 100%.

“What if my love for Y/N is just an illusion and my body is addicted to her but my mind is not attracted to her?”

What the fu-

“Think about what you just said. Think about it again, long and hard, imagine her body this time.” Yoongi does exactly as Jimin instructs, feeling his worry melt away instantaneously just by thinking of you. He feels more at ease and a little bit floaty as well.

When he opens his eyes, Jimin is staring at his crotch deep in thought, probably pondering what he just said. Yoongi honestly has no clue anymore. He’s gotta be in love with you, he just knows.

“Just as I thought. You’re craving her again. Go ahead and get her, you dog.” Jimin lets out a short howl before spanking his boyfriend’s ass. Yoongi tries to protest but Jimin simply shoves him towards the direction of your room.

“She’s not some food item, you know? You can’t just say I’m “craving” someone and just walk away.” Yoongi rolls his eyes before knocking on your door.

“Oh, hey Yoongi, you want me to suck you off?” Well, that was easy.

“Really?” You stare up at your boyfriend, looking up from your phone in a bored manner.

“I finished my homework early so I think I deserve a reward, plus I’ve been craving that dick ever since I fucked you. Oh gosh, did you even mention it to Jimin? I don’t think I told him yet.”

“Tell me what?” You and Yoongi both jump back in surprise. Your blue-haired boyfriend is directly behind Yoongi, smiling at you with those half-moon eyes. You love the way Jimin’s face looks when he smiles, it’s simply adorable.

“I threw on a strap and I fucked Yoongi. I’m not joking, I really did.” Jimin’s eyes darken with lust as he stares between the two of you.

“Can you do it again and let me watch this time?” 

[ibijau]

Deathbed Wedding pt3

Nie Huaisang meets with his friends, and gets to ask about certain rumours he's heard

Also on AO3

Even though he had probably left earlier than anyone else, Nie Huaisang was still late to reach the meeting point, and the last one to arrive. That, of course, was not exactly unusual. Wen Chao looked as annoyed as ever about it.

"You didn't bring anyone?" Wen Chao snapped at him in lieu of greeting. "What's even the point of inviting you if you don't also bring some competent people with you?" 

"Some other business came up," Nie Huaisang lied. "The others had to stay behind to take care of it, but I asked to still come here. I didn't want to disrespect you." 

"I wouldn't even have noticed your absence," Wen Chao retorted. 

Nie Huaisang only smiled politely. They both knew that was a lie. 

Wen Chao liked to organise grand Night Hunts for the young masters of other sects to join. With an older brother as talented as Wen Xu, it was an easy way for him to distinguish himself and make sure he didn’t fade into obscurity, which his personality wouldn’t have borne. Sadly, that same personality made it difficult for anyone to put up with him. To make it worse, there were a number of grudges on-going between the young masters of their generation, and while Wen Chao liked to boast he had the heirs of all the Great Sects coming to his Night Hunts, he lacked the diplomacy to make everyone really work together.

Meanwhile Nie Huaisang was desperately in need of joining every Night Hunt he could, and he had the skill of getting along with anyone, no matter how much he disliked them. Besides, living in an environment like Qinghe Nie had taught him early on how to deal with personal conflicts, and he was pretty good at stopping fights before they could start (or at making them worse if it suited him).

Unless Wen Chao wanted to deal with Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan's constant arguing, or with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji's silent feud, or with everyone’s dislike of him, then he needed Nie Huaisang at his damn Night Hunts. 

And since Nie Huaisang was there at last, they could finally head out toward the location of the actual Night Hunt. Although he had many questions for Lan Wangji, and a few for Jiang Cheng as well, Nie Huaisang decided to fly next to Jin Zixuan. The conversations he needed to have with his other friends would likely have been too intense, and he wasn’t sure he could have mustered enough focus to continue flying his sabre at the same time, not when he was already a little tired. Jin Zixuan, thankfully, always appreciated a little silent companionship, and did not mind that Nie Huaisang barely said ten words to him the entire time.

It took them a good half day of flying to get where Wen Chao swore the monster they’re going to hunt has made its den. He refused to give them any details about the creature in question of course, because Wen Chao thrived on surprising people with his Night Hunts, even if it sometimes got a little dangerous as a result… but that was part of why they all came back. Wen Chao was a prick, but he always organised such good Night Hunts.

This one wasn’t off to a great start though, with Wen Chao telling them they needed to start looking for a cave somewhere in the mountain they’d just reached. It was unlike him to not know more precisely where the creature they were after had made its den, but he hyped it so well that nobody really minded. Nie Huaisang personally would have loved to rest a little first, but since nobody else seemed tired, he simply couldn’t start complaining. It was a good way to work on his endurance, he decided. 

As everyone divided in small groups to look for that cave, Nie Huaisang dumped Jin Zixuan who he’d been flying with, and went to join Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

“Can I search with you?” he asked innocently, trying to match their fast walking pace. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of you, so I thought we could catch up.”

“You saw us not two months ago,” Wei Wuxian retorted with a grin. “How are your ribs, by the way?”

Nie Huaisang pouted as he fell in step with them, and patted the right side of his body.

“They healed quite nicely, and da-ge never realised they were cracked instead of just bruised.”

Of course, Nie Mingjue had still scolded him a lot, even for what he’d thought to be only a minor injury. Which was very unfair, even Jiang Cheng had said it had been bad luck that day, and Jiang Cheng never said anything nice if he didn’t mean it.

Lan Wangji, who in some respects was a lot like Nie Mingjue, slowed down and frowned upon hearing of that injury.

“Nie gongzi was hurt?” he asked. The ‘again’ was left out, but so heavily implied that Nie Huaisang still heard it.

“Just a little, nothing to worry about,” Nie Huaisang replied with a bright smile. “I’m doing better and better on those Night Hunts, and everyone gets a little bruised here and there, especially at first. It’s all very normal.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened, and Nie Huaisang thought it better to quickly breach the subject that actually interested him before he had to deal with a lecture on safety. He hadn’t left his brother’s home just to be bothered by his friends as well.

“So, Wangji-xiong, how is your brother these days?”

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Lan Wangji’s expression hardened, while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian exchanged a nervous glance. Nie Huaisang noticed it, and forced himself to continue smiling as if he couldn’t see it.

“I do hope he’s well,” he said lightly. “And your uncle too. Your father as well, I suppose,” he added with a small laugh. “I haven’t had much news from Gusu lately, how sad. Won’t you tell me what’s happening in the Cloud Recesses?”

The other three boys tense further, avoiding his eyes. Nie Huaisang felt his cheeks start to hurt from the effort of keeping his smile on, but he refused to break. He refused to ask if the rumours were really true.

He didn’t need to ask when their faces said it all. 

He didn’t want to ask, but he wanted to hear the answer anyway.

“Nie-xiong, don’t play that game,” Wei Wuxian snapped, poking him in the side, eliciting a slight grimace. His ribs were almost fully healed, but still a little sensitive. “You know it’s annoying when you pretend not to know things. You’ve heard already, haven’t you?”

“Only fools listen to gossip, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang, fighting the impulse to take out a fan to comfort himself. “What am I supposed to know?”

Wei Wuxian, in a rare moment of good sense, bit his lip to stay silent. He looked at Jiang Cheng, even more uneasy than himself, then at Lan Wangji, who was visibly uncomfortable as well.

It was Lan Wangji who broke first. Gusu Lan’s rules demanded honesty, after all.

“Father has been going to Lotus Piers recently,” he announced. “There is discussion of an engagement between xiongzhang and Jiang guniang.”

Nie Huaisang stumbled against a tree root and would have fallen face first if Jiang Cheng hadn't caught him.

Even if rumours had reached him, to hear it said so plainly from Lan Wangji was more than he truly felt really to handle. It shouldn’t have surprised him though.

Back then, Qingheng-Jun had made it clear that he wasn’t willing to let his sons marry just anyone. Ideally he preferred for them to have a spouse who would bear them children (which almost had made Nie Huaisang laugh when he’d heard it: Lan Xichen might agree out of duty, but good luck getting Lan Wangji to obey). He was not entirely opposed to a sterile union though, as long as that spouse agreed to the presence of concubines to continue the line (Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen, who had already discussed the issue before even asking for that engagement, had already figured it would be required). 

The real problem though, the issue that had been a deal-breaker for Qingheng-Jun when Nie Mingjue had approached him on behalf of his half-brother, was that he believed his sons should only marry someone of great cultivation skill, as he was convinced that an unbalanced match could only lead to trouble down the line.

Nie Mingjue had argued that it would be a good political alliance, that Nie Huaisang brought other skills to the table, that the two young people had been deeply in love for close to two years at that point, but none of it had mattered. Qingheng-Jun had rejected the engagement, because Nie Huaisang just wasn’t good enough.

For months now Nie Huaisang, furious and humiliated that the qualities he did have were overlooked, had worked hard to improve himself and show Qingheng-Jun that he was worthy of Lan Xichen. He was getting there, he knew he was getting there, if only he could get a little more time, a few more Night Hunts, another couple of chances to prove that he could be a real cultivator when he just bothered...

“It’s nothing certain yet,” Jiang Cheng remarked when Nie Huaisang remained silent for too long. “My mother is interested, but my father is saying he didn’t break off the engagement with Jin Zixuan just to push my sister in the arms of another boy who wouldn’t favour her.”

“Xiongzhang is unwilling,” Lan Wangji agreed. “There have been arguments. Xiongzhang raised his voice against father.”

Nie Huaisang managed a weak smile. Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort to stand up against his elders, least of all against a father who rarely meddled in his sons’ lives but expected total obedience when he did. This situation was less than ideal, but Nie Huaisang felt a twisted sort of joy upon hearing that in his own way, Lan Xichen too was fighting for their future.

Still, even if negotiations with the Jiangs didn’t work out in the end, it was clear now that Qingheng-Jun was looking to marry his son, and there would be plenty of candidates. Nie Huaisang really needed to step up and do something extraordinary, and he needed to do it soon.

“Let's keep looking for that cave,” he said, a new spring in his step. “I don't want Wen Chao to find it first, you know he's just going to be insufferable if he does!”

The other three agreed, and redoubled their efforts, though they also all kept an eye on Nie Huaisang who, for once, didn't notice it. He had bigger things to worry about.

That monster Wen Chao had promised them had better be something truly legendary, because Nie Huaisang had a father-in-law to convince.

[eevee-haze]

Aight so It's... not news to literally anyone that I like Ink sans a lot as a concept, and his birthday is today, so I figured what better way to celebrate his birthday than to make a brand new AU (or at least post the info for it)! Or I guess three since I'm working on Swap and Fell variants for it as well.

One of my main questions about the Underground was "how do they handle seismic activity" which was how this AU started forming. It's probably not at all scientifically accurate in the least, but oh well. I call it Rifttale. Cause the earthquakes cause literal rifts in the mountain lmao. I'll put the rest under a read more since this'll get long.

The idea of Rifttale is that Mt Ebott is located on a fault line, and all the hollowing out the monsters had to do made the mountain extremely unstable, and that problem only increased the more the underground's population grew. It's pretty dangerous underground in Rifttale what with the constant threat of cave in due to poor structural integrity and the fact that they don't really have much to work with to make their homes and businesses quake resistant. A fair portion of houses get rubble rained down on them and something always needs fixing.

All four sections of the underground remain, but the layout and placement are different. (And probably larger scale) For example, Snowdin is located near the top of the mountain since snow from the peak falls in through the cracks left in the roof of the cavern, and Hotland is at the very bottom of the mountain, where lava has surged up from the seismic activity. Both Waterfall and New Home are around the mid section, but are separated by a thick wall of rubble that followed a quake that happened maybe days before Frisk fell.

Sans

The man of many jobs adds two more responsibilities to the list rather begrudgingly in this AU. As one of the only Monsters capable of gravity manipulation and teleportation in Snowdin, he and his brother are tasked with being emergency responders in case of an earthquake as well as assisting with any initial construction steps in order to make bridges across newly formed gaps. Sans often gets called to other regions for his services too, but he really doesn't appreciate it.

Frankly he's convinced the mountain's going to crush them before they get the final soul they need, which is part of why he agrees to keep Frisk safe so easily. He doubts anything will change about their predicament with or without them. A No-Mercy route in Rifttale would see him saying things like "Couldn't have waited for the mountain to get us?" Or "I think I would have preferred a cave-in."

Something Rift!Sans doesn't really tell people is that he's blind in his right eye. When he and Papyrus were little, he shielded Papyrus from falling rocks during a quake, and one of them got him good just above his right eye. Most of the injury healed but it left a nasty crack in his socket which prevented him from actually being able to see. He can light the socket, and does so strangers don't needlessly worry about him, but it can't light up all the way like his left does.

Papyrus

Ah yes the sunshine boy. Personality wise he's not that different in this AU. He still wants to be in the guard and he's still confident and friendly, but sometimes he gets a little subdued and worried about Sans since Rift!Sans is much more obvious about his emotional/mental struggles. Another notable part is that he's being kept out of the guard mostly because he's more useful in the emergency unit. He's strong and capable enough to be a guard, but he's too soft, so they gave him a job that was helpful while playing to his strengths.... though like a silly he doesn't see the admirers he has and still hopes to become a guardsman one day.

Frisk & Chara

These two are interesting in this AU. Chara was around 13-14 when they died and spent years underground with the Dreemurrs before their death. They have a strong distaste for their own kind for several reasons, among which being the way they were treated (that led them to run away in the first place) and the fact that they forced such nice creatures into what is essentially a death trap.

They're a bit of a gremlin, but they're certainly not all bad like they consider themself to be.

Frisk on the other hand is a quiet child of roughly nine years. Adventurous and curious, but also blind. They hadn't seen the hole when they were exploring and ended up falling down. They rely on Chara to lead them around the more treacherous parts of the underground since they can't see it. (Chara is able to touch Frisk and tends to tug them by the wrist when guiding them.) Chara starts off really unhappy about guiding them, and depending on the route will even refuse to do so, not that it matters in a No-Mercy route. That's because in the No-Mercy route the Player is more of an active component. Frisk physically can't fight back on their own, and Chara would never help them do so. Essentially the Player is just an entity used by us creators to manipulate Frisk into a No-Mercy route since it wouldn't happen otherwise.

Asriel & Flowey

Personality wise the two really aren't all that different. Asriel is the slightest bit more skittish thanks to his timid nature and the uncertainty that comes with the constant tremors, and Flowey is the slightest bit more bearable. He still doesn't have much in the way of emotions, but it's pretty obvious their situation is bleak without him making it worse (As such, while he has tried No-Mercy in the past, most of his runs were seeing what effects smaller changes had. The volatile environment made it interesting regardless).

Though he's notably far more annoyed about losing his save and reload powers in Rifttale because he'd been in the middle of trying something when Frisk fell.

On the more technical side, Flowey doesn't tend to get around much when there aren't bridges over the chasms. While he can cross them himself, its a pain if they're too awfully wide. This means that the severe quakes tended to impede him a lot.

Toriel & Asgore

As a result of the meddling Flowey was doing, Toriel reclaimed her place as Queen and has been talking things over with her husband about everything that happened. Stuck in the ruins she hadn't gotten the news that Asgore amended his statement later on to say that they would only take the souls of humans that fell if they were hostile or after they died of natural causes. None of the children who fell were killed by monsters. (Many died in partial cave-ins or from falling into lava or the like, though so a quick death from a monster likely would have been preferable.)

Toriel still thinks that going out and just collecting the remaining souls they need would be faster, but Asgore argued a few points on that such as doing so likely angering the humans and giving them a further negative bias as well as the fact that whoever went to get the souls may well die like their children did.

They're still working things out but it's better than how it was before.

Toriel still spends a lot of her time in the ruins, but now its more out of a sense of duty since most of the children fell into the ruins first. She actually guides Frisk up until they meet Sans where she passes escorting them to him since he is more capable of ensuring their safety, and she needs to hurry ahead to make preparations for their stay and inform Asgore.

Alphys

Predictably not much different personality wise. She's actually one of the safer monsters since she never leaves her lab and it's reinforced to withstand rockfalls to some degree, not to mention the basement level with the true lab in it (though its hot as heck down there cause of the magma nearby.) Her primary goal is more geared toward keeping the underground as stable as possible so that they can hopefully last until they get the last soul. That's not to say the amalgamates don't exist, they do, but she's at least been looking busy as sort of an excuse why she hasn't answered back any of the letters. No time for mail when she's trying to save people, after all.

Undyne

Captain of the Royal guard, still. The guard does still exist, it's just less numerous and has more focus on recruiting strong members. After all they exist in case a hostile human arrives instead. So naturally Undyne is even more of a badass than normal, and she's ready in the event of a No-Mercy run. Even in a pacifist playthrough she's a bit wary of Frisk, notably not wanting to leave Alphys alone with them in case they were hiding their true intentions. This means she's the one who ends up escorting the human through the first little bit of Hotland after Waterfall, whereupon Mettaton would take over.

Mettaton

Considering a Human-killing robot was no longer needed, he was created with maneuverability in mind. The idea was that he could help others when needed, much like the emergency rescue portion of the guard, but Mettaton much preferred to focus on his career of course. He’s part of the reason Sans keeps being called to help out in other regions which gets him a healthy amount of resentment from the older skeleton.

Gaster

No major story involvement, but he does have plot importance. Gaster was the Skelebro’s father, and while he made them artificially, he did care about them a lot. Not much about him still remains and very few remember any details about him since he was quite a reclusive skeleton. He was close friends with the Riverperson however, so that’s who ended up essentially raising the two skeletons after Gaster fell into the Core. They provided for them despite being gone a lot.

Misc. Details

Children that stayed for an extended period were often called the “New Hope” a term coined when Chara first became a part of the Dreemurr family

Not all children opted to stay with the royal family, hence their belongings being stored in different regions

There were hostile humans that fell as well, but most met their fate in the lava and their souls were burnt up before they could be retrieved.

Frisk had fairly negligent parents. They weren’t outright abusive, but they really didn’t pay much attention to them.

Portions of the Waterfall part of the Underground have large nets bridging the gaps to catch the garbage that falls down that way nothing gets wasted falling into the chasms.

The Delta Rune on Sans’s coat is a reflective sticker. They told him he needed to wear something reflective for visibility’s sake and because he wasn’t willing to mess up his jacket, nor go without it, he cheated the system.

Papyrus wears a battle body just like normal, but he hot-glued some of the reflective material from human clothing that ended up falling down onto it so that he could both look cool and follow rules

Despite being a very neat and cleanly skeleton, Papyrus often ends up dirty as a consequence of his job. Because of that he takes care to meticulously clean both himself and the house before they go to bed.

[patsdrabbles]

Down in the Underground

Title: Down in the Underground Fandom: Good Omens & Labyrinth (1986) Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 4675 Summary: Ten minutes after he had been given the basket with his charge and short but clear instructions on what to do with it, Crowley pulled his car over and panicked. There had to be another way. There had to. In which Crowley wishes the Antichrist away to a not very thrilled Goblin King. A/N: @szappan wrote an amazing fic about Crowley being a Bowie fan (please do check it out, it’s great! ❤) and it made me wonder what would happen if Crowley and Aziraphale met the Goblin King. Which I then just had to write because Good Omens and Labyrinth are two of my absolute favourite books/series/movies. Thank you so much @blue-ravens for the help with editing this fic! Please enjoy ❤

AO3 & a drawing I made for this fic

Ten minutes after he had been given the basket with his charge and short but clear instructions on what to do with it, Crowley pulled his car over and panicked.

There had to be another way.

There had to.

*

Sometimes, the ideas we have when under distress, later on prove themselves to not be among the brightest we have.

*

“This child is not from the Aboveground.”

Jareth held the baby a bit farther away from himself and looked at him with curious eyes.

“Wha– Of course he is!”

The Goblin King gave Crowley a wary look.

“He reeks of a strange kind of magic.” He pondered Crowley with narrowed eyes for a moment and Crowley felt himself shift, wanting to slither backwards under his scrutinizing gaze. “As do you, for a fact.”

“Well, ha.” Crowley shrugged. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to conceal what he was from another powerful being, shouldn’t he? “Comes hand in hand with fallin’ from the skies above, I guess.”

Jareth stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment. Then, Crowley could practically hear the cogwheels turn in his mind and his gaze darkened.

“So this is–” Jareth paused and held up the baby a bit, so that he could look into his eyes. “This is him then, isn’t it? Remarkable... If he didn’t smell just like his people, I wouldn’t even have noticed that he was different.”

He turned back to Crowley.

“I cannot give him back as the Labyrinth’s rules forbid me from doing so, but I do not wish to take him in permanently. I’m sure you understand that I don’t want my kingdom to be destroyed by his powers or... for it to eventually be overrun by folks from Heaven and Hell, when it comes to it.” He sighed. “Do traverse the Labyrinth and take him back, demon. Otherwise, we might be faced with a far greater measure of destruction than is already likely to follow him Aboveground.”

Crowley, who had found the grass at the tips of his shoes especially fascinating the last minute or so looked up sharply when the Goblin King sighed loudly.

“Think about it, demon. You still have thirteen hours from now to come and claim him back. Trust me that I will make your life living hell in new, creative ways if you don’t.”

Crowley hadn’t been listening to everything Jareth had said, too busy still panicking about the impending end of the world while wondering several times why the Goblin King looked so familiar, but he had heard the last part.

He gulped and forced himself to smile.

“Sure. I guess I’ll think about it. Uh... See ya!”

He gave a wave of his hand as he turned and sauntered with dangerously shaky steps back to his car.

He’d have to call Aziraphale. Aziraphale would know what to do.

In hindsight, maybe he should have called Aziraphale before wishing the boy away.

Oh well, it was too late for that line of thought now.

As Crowley drove away (in search for the nearest phone booth), Jareth kept holding onto the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness and scowled.

He had planned to relax today, maybe enact only two boggings (the goblins in question had taken the chicken tossing too far and had hit him square in the face the other day. They had escaped but Jareth had found out their names, which would be enough). He had planned to have a Good Day.

This however? This didn’t look like it was going to be one.

*

The world wasn’t, as most people would have you believe, influenced by two great powers.

The lack of knowledge about the third wasn’t all that surprising, given that it had itself wished to not be involved in Heaven’s and Hell’s meddling with humanity or get tangled in their “weird kind of codependency”.

The third of the powers that be was neither good nor evil – much rather, it was a wild sort of chaos that was able to be precisely just what you imagined it to be.

And when you knew the right words, you might just be lucky enough to call on it.

*

“You did what?”

To say that Aziraphale sounded flabbergasted was an understatement like calling the melting polar caps a minor problem of Earth.

Crowley ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair, not noticing that he ruffled it up.

“I wished away the Antichrist. Sent him to the Goblin Kingdom.”

The voice on the other end of the phone call remained silent for a long moment.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale’s voice now was much more quiet and had an almost desperate edge to it. “You can’t just– wish away the Antichrist!”

“But I could, couldn’t I? I did, in fact, and now he’s being babysat by the Goblin King himself until the time’s up.”

“Crowley! You don’t even know what might happen after– even during those thirteen hours! We have no idea how his powers might react to wild fae magic! It might just bring about the end of the world faster than originally planned for all we know!"

Aziraphale was starting to sound frantic and Crowley’s hand was, by now, shaking noticeably as well.

“Alright, so what do we do now?”

“Go get back the Antichrist, I suppose.”

*

“You realize I can’t change the rules even for... people like you, do you?”

“I guess I can see why, yes.”

Aziraphale nodded and nudged Crowley’s arm when the demon didn’t respond to the Goblin King’s question.

Crowley, however, had been deep in thought, resulting in him asking the one question that had been on the tip of his tongue since he had first seen the Goblin King about an hour ago.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like David Bowie?”

The Goblin King didn’t reply, just gave him a terrifyingly wide smile in response as he held the Antichrist in his arms.

“Alright, the child. The Antichrist.” Aziraphale tried to get their attention back to the urgent matter at hand. “I’m aware that the rules give us thirteen hours to–”

“Twelve hours and ten minutes by now.”

“—solve the Labyrinth and get back the child you have taken. Right.” Aziraphale cleared his throat as the Goblin King continued staring him down.

“Uhm.”

“Usually, only the one making the wish gets to run the Labyrinth, but as the rules aren’t very clear on this, I can twist them somewhat. You may run together. Let’s hope for all of us that it’ll help.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who had remained silent after asking his strange and out of nowhere question.

“I don’t want Hell’s Antichrist here any more than you do,” Jareth continued, sounding vaguely annoyed despite continuing to calmingly rock the baby in his arms.

“So you better make an effort – a successful one – and take him back.” He looked at them both, individually, before adding: “I’ll be waiting in my castle in the center of the Labyrinth.”

With that, he disappeared.

“Well, that didn’t sound too difficult.” Aziraphale smiled nervously at Crowley. “We can do this, we’re an angel and a demon, after all! What is a magical labyrinth to us, right?”

“...”

Crowley didn’t meet his gaze, instead looking out over the vast expanse of the Labyrinth in front of them. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his own stupidity.

Wishing the Antichrist away like a nervous teenager unwilling to babysit their baby brother.

In the oddest sense of the word, he supposed, that was exactly what it was.

He was only pulled out of his thoughts when a warm hand grabbed his and Aziraphale smiled at him reassuringly.

“Come on, Crowley, let’s get the boy back.”

Crowley managed a weak nod and followed Aziraphale, who clearly was doing better at trying to convince himself of the upsides of their current situation.

“Come on, feet!”

Crowley sighed but couldn’t resist a tiny smile at the comment.

Together, they made their way downhill.

*

Glitter.

The damn glitter was everywhere. On his jacket, his shoes, his glasses...

Aziraphale either didn’t notice or didn’t mind the light silvery glitter making him shimmer in the light as they walked down the seemingly endless corridor.

Crowley sighed but refrained from commenting on the obvious.

*

“’ello!”

“Oh, hello there, my friend!”

Aziraphale crouched down to be on eye level with what appeared to be a little blue worm.

“We’re trying to cross this labyrinth, but we can’t seem to find our way out of this corridor.” Aziraphale smiled at the tiny worm, who looked at him with big blinking eyes.

“Oh, you should come inside an’ meet the missus. The tea should just be ready.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale looked at Crowley, somewhat at a loss. “We’re a bit in a hurry right now, I’m afraid ...but maybe on our way back?”

Crowley nodded, although there were more important things than tea dates with magical worms on his mind right now. Such as finding the Antichrist in order to ensure his own continued existence, for one.

“Lovely!” the worm exclaimed. “You two are the first who didn’t outright decline the offer, the missus an’ I do appreciate that, really!”

Crowley nodded again and gestured for Aziraphale to get on with it, becoming impatient.

“Uhm, the exit to this corridor, kind sir?”

“Ah yes, the exit! You aren’t looking for a door an’ you will have to look from the right angle to find it!”

Crowley nodded and, without another word, turned into his old form.

“Oh, fancy that skill!” The worm commented and nodded in approval.

Crowley slithered along the wall, turning his head this way and that way, until the wall seemed to give way beneath him. Or rather, disappear.

“There’sss another pathway right here, angel.”

He turned back into his human form and went to take Aziraphale’s hand in his to pull him along when he didn’t move.

But Aziraphale didn’t budge even so.

“We don’t even know what direction to take yet, Crowley!”

Crowley sighed heavily.

“Alright, Mister Worm, what direction should we take?”

“Take a turn to the right, this should fit your purpose. The path to the left is filled with grave dangers!”

His eyes widened comically and Crowley grinned at him.

“What dangers might those be?”

Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hand twitch in his own and became aware of the heat rising in his cheeks when he realized that he was still holding the angel’s hand.

“The path to the left ...it leads straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”

Aziraphale turned sharply toward Crowley.

“Then the path to the left is the one we need to take!”

“But–”

“Thank you again, kind sir. I will keep your offer for tea in mind.”

Crowley turned toward the new path and felt, just as he was trying to let go of Aziraphale’s hand unnoticed, that the angel held on tighter to his own. Unsure what to say – or if he should say anything in the first place – he continued on, Aziraphale by his side.

The worm looked torn as they left, unhappy to see them choosing the more dangerous of the two options. But they had asked the right question and gotten their answer.

In the castle, the Goblin King nodded at a crystal sphere in satisfaction while rocking the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. They might very well make it in good time.

*

“Crowley, I’m starving!” Aziraphale was wailing and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“You can’t starve, you’re an angel.”

“But still, I very much feel like I am.”

Crowley got distracted by something to his right rustling in some sparkling bushes, so he didn’t notice Aziraphale moving on ahead and looking around the corner of the pathway.

He didn’t see Aziraphale’s delighted facial expression at the sight of an apricot tree that was yielding a lot of beautiful, ripe fruit.

He also didn’t see Aziraphale’s plucking an apricot from the tree or how he pulled out a handkerchief to quickly clean it.

And he didn’t see Aziraphale take a bite of the apricot or the moment of realization he had, mirrored in his widened eyes.

He did hear Aziraphale’s physical form hitting the grassy ground beneath his feet and was running toward him before he could even see what had happened.

He felt the panic rise in his chest.

“Aziraphale! Aziraphale, what happened?”

When Crowley reached him he still hadn’t gotten a reply or any other reaction, so he let himself fall to his knees to take a better look at the angel.

He was still breathing, which... Wasn’t a requirement for a heavenly being, but at least seemed to indicate that, albeit unconscious, Aziraphale hadn’t been discorporated... or worse.

Crowley frantically looked around, trying to figure out what had happened.

Then he saw it and froze.

Lying on the ground not far from Aziraphale’s outstretched arm and clearly bitten into – a peach.

Crowley growled in frustration.

They should’ve brought sandwiches.

A clearly magical sphere floated by him and Crowley managed to get a glimpse at the translucent image it showed.

It was Aziraphale, looking confused and kind of lost, in a ballroom, surrounded by ballgoers whose faces were covered with masks.

The people were staring at him, making it hard for him to pass through the mass. Then, music must have started playing, because several people started dancing and Aziraphale’s eyes lit up in delight.

“Damn it, angel,” Crowley hissed to himself.

A second glance into the sphere showed him Aziraphale dancing among the crowd and... a very annoyed looking person who could only be the Goblin King himself, albeit disguised with a mask. When said Goblin King turned to stare up at him through the magical sphere, Crowley cursed again and took a step toward the apricot tree.

They were all round and ripe, the perfect apricots. Since they would all hopefully lead to the same thing, however, he plucked one at random. 

He hissed in his best snakely manner at the fruit he held with his fingertips and reminded himself that he was doing this for Aziraphale. So that after that, they could continue searching for the Antichrist.

Damn hell.

He took a bite and felt himself falling.

Damn all fruit trees.

*

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was that the world seemed brighter than before. Looking around, he decided that hundreds of candles seemed to be to blame for that. Second, things seemed rather... peachy. But not in the all-is-well kind of way, but in the way that the taste of the godforsaken peach he had eaten was still lingering on his tongue, coating his mouth and, quite oddly, also affecting his other senses, almost... clouding them.

He didn’t like that one bit.

He continued down an already quite crowded hallway and reached a big double door that presumably led to the ballroom he had seen. He pushed it open and shuddered momentarily at the sight in front of him. There were way too many people attending this ball for what he considered to be his comfort zone, if one were to ask him. But since nobody was asking him, he went on inside, hoping to find Aziraphale as fast as possible.

People were laughing and giggling almost manically as he made his way through the crowd, having to push more than a few of the ballgoers aside when they seemed to intentionally block his path or hold onto his sleeves.

He was getting rather annoyed by the time he spotted Aziraphale, standing rather lost in the middle of the ballroom. The spark Crowley had momentarily seen in his eyes in the crystal was gone and he looked rather worried as he unconsciously fussed with the hem of his coat sleeves. When his eyes met Crowley’s, however, they seemed to light up again and he started to make his way toward the demon.

Crowley felt relief wash over him when he came to stand in front of Aziraphale and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Don’t. Don’t ever just do something so stupid ever again! I thought you had died or something for a moment!“

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened and he looked so sorry and–

“Aargh, stop it, angel! I know you’re sorry, let’s just. Find a way out of here.”

Crowley turned around and started looking for the ballroom door, just to find it was ...gone.

“What in all seven –”

He turned back to Aziraphale when he felt the angel’s hand gently on his shoulder.

“It’s gone, Crowley.”

“What do you mean, it’s gone? It was right over there mere minutes ago!”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“I checked after I appeared here, as well, but the door was gone again moments after my arrival.”

“So what do we do now?”

Crowley was starting to feel antsy. Things were not developing in their favor.

Suddenly, music began to play. There were no musicians to be seen, except for–

“I’ll eat a damn hat if that isn’t the Goblin King himself.”

Aziraphale followed his gaze to the other side of the room where Jareth the Goblin King was standing in an inexplicable beam of light and, by all appearance, was about to start to sing.

The two of them were so surprised by his appearance, however, that they noticed only too late that the crowd had started to close in on them, pressing in from all sizes and leaving them surrounded by a slowly moving circle.

“I’m sorry, Crowley. If not for me, we weren’t stuck in this mess of a situation.”

Crowley took a sharp breath when Aziraphale reached out and held his hand.

He obviously didn’t mind holding the angel’s hand, but he also feared the treacherous color that rose to his cheeks the last few times it had happened.

Aziraphale must have noticed his intake of breath, because he let go of Crowley’s hand all of a sudden, a quiet sadness overtaking his eyes.

“There’s such a sad love,

deep in your eyes...”

Jareth was, in fact, singing now, and Crowley felt awful. They were running out to time to fix the mistake he had made and now they both were stuck in this place with Aziraphale looking like Crowley had kicked him.

Crowley remained quiet for a moment, lowering his gaze to the ground when he noticed Aziraphale turning away his gaze.

The Labyrinth was a place full of riddles, going by what Jareth had told them at the beginning. So maybe being stuck in a ballroom meant...

He looked up with an apologetic smile and held out his hand to Aziraphale.

“There’s such a fooled heart,

beating so fast in search of new dreams,

a love that will last...”

“Come on, angel.”

Aziraphale was looking at him and then at Crowley’s extended hand. He looked back at Crowley and, after a moment of hesitation, took his hand and let himself slowly be pulled in.

“Maybe this is gonna fix things.”

Aziraphale frowned slightly and Crowley let out a small nervous laugh, his breath brushing over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“...maybe it’s not, but it seems worth a try, right?”

Aziraphale met his gaze and nodded.

He looked back at the ballgoers surrounding them, a sort of dancing carrousel by this point, and frowned in thought.

“Perhaps we’ll manage to get closer to the Goblin King, that way. We should try to ask him what to do.”

Crowley nodded and felt warmth rise in his cheeks when Aziraphale squeezed his hand and took a step closer.

“I’ll paint you mornings of gold...”

“Let’s dance, my dear.”

“I’ll spin you Valentine evenings...”

Crowley nodded and took the first step.

And they danced.

*

While they were slowly swaying to the rhythm of the music, the ballgoers around them were still talking and pointing and moving around them.

Crowley tried to focus on the warmth that Aziraphale was giving off and not on ...everything else. He hoped that this would work. Things had obviously gone too well previously and...

“But I'll be there for you... as the world falls down.”

...Aziraphale was holding him, not letting go.

They made their way across the room in a slow pace, the crowd around them letting them move as long as they continued dancing.

“Falling... Falling...”

“It’s working,” Aziraphale breathed out in astonishment when he realized what was happening.

“Falling...”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed quietly and held on for dear life.

“Falling in love...”

*

By the time the song ended, they had also reached the Goblin King, who was giving them a long, contemplative look. In one hand he was holding a ball mask, which he made disappear in exchange for another crystal. He let it run up and down his hand as he looked at them a moment longer, before this gaze fell to their still joined hands again.

“You’ve made it all the way here. What do you want?”

The astonished look must have been similar on both their faces.

“We want out, obviously,” Aziraphale stated.

“Are you certain of that?” Jareth asked. “Even if out of here and out there might mean a less pleasant life for both of you?”

Crowley cocked his head in inquiry.

“The whole doomsday situation. And–” Jareth nodded toward their joined hands. “–that, perhaps, even more.”

Crowley saw Aziraphale blush and look away out of the corner of his eye, but the angel didn’t withdraw his hand.

Somehow, confidence at last got a hold of Crowley and he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand as he grinned at the Goblin King.

“We’ll figure it out.”

To their surprise, the Goblin King threw the crystal up in the air.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Jareth grinned back at them and around them, the world fell down.

*

After that, finding the castle in the center of the Labyrinth was a piece of cake.

They ran into a bunch of goblins and other fae folk, but for the most part, the direction they had to take was clear and their path free of dangers.

They had talked some and both realized that they were “absolute morons”, as Crowley had put it, smilingly. Aziraphale had returned his smile, equally radiant in its nature, and had gently squeezed his hand. They would talk about this once they had left the Labyrinth (‘this’ being their strong mutual affection that they both had previously been too nervous about to realize that it was reciprocated; ‘previously’ being the past four thousand years, give or take).

They also talked about the Antichrist and what they would do once they got him back from Jareth.

“Bring him to his new parents, of course.”

“Yes, of course, but what... what about his upbringing?”

“You aren’t suggesting...?”

Aziraphale nodded and, as they continued walking, they formed a plan.

*

They still had more than enough time to spare by the time they entered the castle together, only letting go of each other’s hands for the first time in hours to push open the big front gate.

They found the Goblin King and the baby in a big room at the center of the castle.

“At long last, here you are. And here ...you are.” Jareth grinned a toothy grin as he handed over the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness to Crowley. Then, he let himself fall back onto what appeared to be a fairly uncomfortable big chair that, on a second thought, seemed to function as a throne.

“You did it, great! And with four hours to spare, on top of that!”

As he shifted the Antichrist in his arms, Crowley heard Aziraphale exhale in relief next to him. Quite frankly, if the end of the world weren’t as immediate as it unfortunately was, he would have gladly spent the next two decades sleeping.

“So– any further... life-changing happenings or the like since you left my ballroom?”

When the two didn’t reply immediately, Jareth flashed a grin that only lasted for a moment, before being replaced by a more neutral expression.

“I have been told that it seems to be somewhat of a common experience among runners.”

Aziraphale turned a lovely shade of red and Crowley found himself rather tempted to just ...Ah, to hell with it.

He took Aziraphale’s hand in his as gently as he could while not jostling the baby on his arm and felt Jareth’s gaze on them even as he finally allowed the love he felt for Aziraphale to show when he looked at the angel.

When he looked back at Jareth, the Goblin King was smiling.

“So, there’s hope for you lot yet.”

*

With the Goblin King’s help, the three of them reappear Aboveground somewhere in the outskirts of Tadfield a short time later. The Bentley stood waiting for them a couple of meters down the road.

“Well, here we are.” Aziraphale looked down at the basket that was now, once again, holding the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness.

“Here we are...,” Crowley mumbled, when, suddenly, the thing that had been nagging him at the back of his mind for the past few hours finally surfaced.

“Oh, crap, we’re late for the birth of the other baby!”

Aziraphale paled and Crowley felt the panic rise in his veins.

“I’ll have to reorder time, though I don’t know if I can manage to turn back all thirteen hours, but I’ll have to try and–”

“Perhaps I could help with that.”

An owl sitting on a nearby tree branch turned into Jareth casually leaning against said tree’s trunk.

“Time is easily affected by my magic, Aboveground and Underground.”

A clock appeared in the air next to him, as if required for the impending demonstration.

The Goblin King snapped his fingers and for a split moment, Crowley and Aziraphale felt air and time rush past them. Then, it was night again and the clock on Crowley’s watch – just like Jareth’s flying clock – indicated that it was still 11.24 pm, mere minutes after Crowley had originally left Hastur and Ligur at the graveyard.

“Well, go then!”

Jareth made a shooing motion with his hands when the two others just continued staring at him for a moment.

“In that case... Thank you.” Aziraphale smiled and looked like he wanted to step forward and shake Jareth’s hand before coming to think better of it.

“Yeah, thank you, I guess. Spared us a lot of trouble if that had come out.” Crowley gave him what he hoped looked like an appreciative nod.

“Nevermind, I’m glad he’s not going to grow up with me. I have enough on my plate as it is.” The Goblin King sighed and shook his head.

“You still look like David Bowie, though,” Crowley couldn’t help but mention again.

Jareth just grinned at that and, within a blink of the eye, was gone.

Aziraphale sighed as they began walking toward the Bentley.

“You just had to point that out again, didn’t you?”

“Well, he does look an awful lot like David Bowie! Don’t blame me for stating the obvious!”

They continued their friendly bickering as they approached Tadfield, smiles on their faces and a plan for the upbringing of the Antichrist in the works. It was bound to go wrong, of course, before it would go right again, in the end.

A barn owl followed the Bentley down the street for a minute before disappearing in a light shower of glitter.

[nakhama-a]

little impromptu zodiac study, ft. ieiri shouko.

with the revelation that shouko is a scorpio sun, i have decided that the major placements in her chart are as follows: capricorn moon, scorpio rising, virgo venus, and capricorn mars. now let’s take a look at what that means.

scorpio sun:

scorpios are known for their intensity. they are determined folk that absolutely throw themselves into whatever they do — but getting them to commit to something is rarely an easy task. in fact, it’s better not to even try to “get them” to do anything. solar scorpios absolutely have their own mind. and, their primary motivation is unlikely to be prestige, or even authority–it’s real power. their power can absolutely be of the “behind the scenes” variety, just as long as they have it.

to others, scorpios seem to have plenty of willpower. they probably do. scorpios do know what they want, and they won’t go out and grab it at the wrong moment. they simply sit back, watch (quite expertly), and then get it only when the moment is just right. this apparent patience is simply their powerful skills at strategy at work.

scorpio isn’t afraid of getting their hands (their bodies, their minds) dirty. the darker side of life intrigues them, and they’re always ready to investigate.

scorpios simply never give up. they have tremendous staying power. they’re not in the slightest intimidated by anybody or anything. confrontations are not a problem. in fact, talk to any scorpio about their lives, and you’ll probably be in awe at all they’ve gone through. trauma seems to follow them wherever they go. when scorpio learns optimism, instead of expecting the worst, they’ll find that they possess amazing regenerative powers — the power to heal, create, and transform.

this doesn’t really sound like our resident apathetic-and-tired doctor, though i’ve bolded what does or may apply; shouko is not an intense person, she does not seem to have much willpower, and she most definitely is not confrontational. we see that all the way back in the hidden inventory arc where she runs away when geto and gojo are about to fight.

and also when geto defects, she doesn’t even try to stop him. scorpio would absolutely make an attempt.

so scorpio alone might seem a bit out there, but in combination with her other placements...

capricorn moon:

calm, cool, and collected—these words sum up moon in capricorn natives well. messy emotions and “leaky” souls are a bit frightening for most with this position of the moon. truth is, they can have plenty of mood swings and some dark emotions now and again. lunar capricorns are often quite hard on themselves, and would benefit from letting their guard down once in a while. they quickly garner reputations of being mountains of strength, and they easily hide their sensitivity behind a sarcastic manner.

you may have read that moon in capricorn natives are a bit cold and calculating. the fact is, they are unlikely to be any less emotional than the other 11 sign positions of the moon—they simply aren’t comfortable “letting go” when it comes to emotions. they keep their emotions under control. wherever capricorn is found in the chart, there is a desire for structure and control. capricorn is the sign of organization and efficient management; so, when the moon is found in the sign, the world of emotions are well-managed and handled in an efficient and practical manner.

thiiiiiiiiiis is much more in line with shouko. the moon is the sign that involves emotions, habits, reactions and instincts; so this cold, calculating, sarcastic, in control persona - that’s our girl ! i’ll talk more about how these two work with each other in a sec.

scorpio rising:

scorpio ascendant people have a lot of presence. there is something about them that tells the world that they are not to be pushed around. their manner commands respect, and in some cases, fear. scorpio rising people can be quiet or loud, but they always seem powerful and determined.

you either love or hate scorpio rising people –they are rarely people who go through life unnoticed. in fact, some of them are confused when faced with the fact that they get such strong reactions from others. they seem to look right through people, seeing through superficiality. this can be quite intimidating to some, and intriguing to others. scorpio rising people, in their dealings with others, look for answers by reading between the lines. surface details are discarded when they are getting a feel for people and situations around them.

scorpio rising people value their privacy so much, it can border on paranoia. they have a strong need to control their environment and are experts at strategy. rarely people who will blow their chances with impatience, they plan out their moves carefully and deliberately, relying on their awesome ability to feel out others and situations.

the ascendant / rising sign is the facade shown to others, which is why i think scorpio suits her well here; the first time we meet shouko, and particularly in the anime, she’s incredibly self-assured and a bit off-putting. like, look at this shot.

in combination with these lines?

yeah. scorp rising. 100%.

so now, let’s see how her moon and rising combo with her sun !!

scorpio sun / capricorn moon ( this is a long one oops ):

people with their sun in scorpio and their moon in capricorn have a natural instinct to protect themselves regardless of how kind they may seem when interacting with others. they will never allow money to rule them. they want security and to support themselves, but they don’t insist on getting rich. they are the most mature scorpios in the zodiac. wise and disciplined from a young age, these guys are also calm and approachable. while they seem very grave and composed, they don’t think of themselves as being like this. private and secretive, they don’t want all the attention to be on them. when they happen to be in the center of the stage, they prefer to keep things low key.

people will always like them because they’re responsible, cerebral and humble. they give a lot of importance to honor, ethics and the law. it doesn’t matter if it makes them unpopular to stick to their own beliefs and to being honest, they’ll continue to do it. discipline and management characterize them a lot. others know they are the most reliable and serious people ever. not to mention they can control their emotions when a situation becomes too difficult. it’s possible they will not be able to hide their feelings and become aggressive in some cases. but this won’t happen too often. these guys know what people and groups think because they are fine psychologists.

their main goals in life are gaining other people’s respect, having a good reputation and making a good living. it doesn’t matter how warm they seem on the outside, they will always look for these things. if they would be able to recognize their authoritative presence, it would be easier for them to deal with people.

scorpio sun capricorn moon individuals have high standards and aren’t very tolerant of people who don’t act the way they think it’s correct. but they should respect others as much as they want to be respected. just like all the scorpios, they have a high libido and can make anyone go crazy. they will use others in a subtle way and get what they want. when they see helpless people, they simply don’t know what to do. not to mention how scared they are of seeing their weaknesses in others.

while confident and sure of themselves on the outside, these scorpios are anxious and confused on the inside. they don’t believe in empty compliments and if they won’t explore their emotions and spirituality, they’ll remain these cold characters with whom few can get along.

whew. okay. that’s long. but i think it highlights how the two work well together. it’s also pretty self explanatory so ontooooooo...

scorpio sun / scorpio rising:

double scorpios function best when they’re left alone to do things their own way. and that works, because no one can keep up with them anyway. plus, they’re intensely self-motivated, mostly because their guilt level soars if they don’t do the best job possible. so there’s really no need to supervise them. the sorts of hands-on management and direction that other people might find helpful or even reassuring is apt to be considered by double scorpios as needless meddling. they don’t take well to what they perceive to be an invasion of their turf. they want enough space and privacy to go about their business in their own unseen way, and when things work to their advantage they use their investigative skills to quickly build a body of knowledge and otherwise hard-to-come-by data that affords them a great deal of job security. what’s happened is they’ve worked themselves into a position where they’re absolutely indispensable. they simply know too much, and they’ve got the goods on everyone. whether it’s at home, at work, or at the pta, these scorpios have ferreted out the useful information that everyone else needs.

also pretty self-explanatory - shouko is literally indispensable, she prefers to do things on her own, and doesn’t like when things get in the way. this all seems much more in line with what we’ve been shown, and for the sake of this post being long as fuck already ( if u read all this i’m kissing u ), i’ll save her mars and venus for another time !

[fcted]

my newest boy under the cut! 

full name: Kent Nelson

face claim: Cillian Murphy

age: 112, Appears 40

gender & preferred pronouns: cismale, he/him

MBTI Type: INTJ

occupation: Surgeon

aliases: Doctor Fate

affiliations: Justice League 

1. Is your character human, mutant, metahuman, alien, inhuman, or other? If other, please elaborate: Other

He’s a human, technically, but enhanced by magic bestowed upon him by an ancient diety and through mystical items such as his helm.

2. What are your characters powers/special abilities, if any?: 

Magic: His magical powers have been described as “conversion of matter into energy and energy into matter.” He’s an interdimensional being, meant to maintain order within and between universes, and his magic reflects that. In order to use this magic, however, he has to be wearing the Helm of Fate. He’ll also get tired from using his magic too much, and will need time to “recharge.” 

Immortality: The powers bestowed upon him by Nabu have extended his life indefinitely. 

Invulnerability: In the comics, the only forms of attack that affect Kent are gas attacks.

3. Please provide three headcanons for your character:

1) Kent thought about becoming an archaeologist like his father, but the thought of sitting around doing research all day rather than doing more hands-on work was stifling. 

2) Kent spends most of his time in the Tower of Fate, which exists outside of space and time. 

3) He tries not to get too involved with the order of things within a certain universe, but with the way things have been going in the universe our game takes place in, Kent is finding it more and more difficult to remain neutral. As an agent of the Lords of Order, he’s supposed to be completely unbiased, but what’s right is so clear to him here, he’s started to disobey that edict.

4. List four personality traits (two positive and two negative) and explain how they influence your character. 

+ balanced

kent sees things from a very balanced and multilateral point of view. since he’s seen a lot of variations on different events from different universes, he has a more complete idea of the scope of different decisions. 

+ methodical

kent is precise and rational, and approaches problems the way he approaches his whole life: in a meticulous and detail-oriented manner. 

- self-righteous

he pretty much always thinks that he is right, and he tells others that he’s right all the time. he thinks that his moral viewpoint is the only correct one, and that others have clouded judgment. 

- aloof

kent doesn’t connect with people very well, instead spending time wrapped up in his own mind. 

5. Provide three potential plots you’d like to explore. The admins will do our best to accommodate your plot ideas, but we can’t guarantee all requests.

I would love to have Kent team up with other magic users in the game, and maybe even mentor them since he’s been using magic for a gazillion years. 

Something that would be interesting is if there are characters now or in the future who are time-displaced or something similar, that Kent could work with them in trying to solve the mystery of how that happened and get them back to the place/time they’re supposed to be. 

I just desperately need Kent to annoy all the members of the Justice League in game by being the dry, ironic, self-righteous ass he normally is. 

character bio. 

At the beginning of the hero ban, Kent thought that it would blow over quickly. He had seen plenty of similar universes try to institute similar bans, but it never worked, the heroes always garnering enough support and pushing back against the machine hard enough to get rid of any sort of ban. However, as the years passed and it became clear that the ban was going to be here to stay, Kent decided to spend some time in other universes to try and figure out what he was supposed to do to maintain order in this universe. 

He was advised by Nabu, the ancient deity that gave him his powers, not to interfere with the business of countries and governments in this universe, not to meddle with the natural order of things, so he spent most of the past 5 years hiding out in the Tower of Fate, trying to reconcile his morals and ideals with being a truly neutral agent of the Lords of Order. It was more difficult than he ever wanted to admit, and he spent time in universes that had overcome their hero bans in order to feel a little better about the fate of this universe. 

Now that it has become even clearer that the ban is going to stay for the long term, Kent has shrugged the neutrality that he had become known for in the years he had spent as Doctor Fate. There is something terribly wrong with this universe, and he is determined to fix it.

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

Galapogos [B. Hargrove x you]

Summary: Billy’s temper always causes him problems, but luckily he has Max to talk just a bit of sense into him.

Inspiration: Galapogos by The Smashing Pumpkins & Lost Stars by Adam Levine (Begin Again Soundtrack)

Word Count: 2875  Warnings: profanity, angst, and mentions of abuse.

Written Date: 07/20-22/2019    Posted Date: 7/23/2019  

[PART 1]< >[PART 2]

Billy hadn’t meant to push you.

It wasn’t your fault your ex-boyfriend David had started hiding a liquor flask inside of his varsity jacket because he hated the presence of the new girl who clung to his bicep. It wasn’t your fault David the Douche couldn’t hold his alcohol and wanted you back. It wasn’t your fault that he had chosen the school parking lot to stumble into an already irritated Billy who had just minutes to pick up Max and get home because Mr. Hargrove had already gotten on his case the evening before.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Just hours ago in the blue Camaro with a half-eaten sandwich on your lap, you’d told Billy you had plans with your yearbook classmates. Something about a new comedy film down at the theater that everyone’s been psyched to see. Billy’s never been too good at remembering certain details. Either way, after everything he has been through, Billy should have known that plans never go as planned.

He hadn’t meant to push you. Especially not in front of the entire student body.

But, there you had been in your new skirt, now tainted with black stains from the new cement Hawkins had promised with that tax raise, with tears threatening to spill down your doe eyes. The pang in his chest tells him that you’ll never wear that skirt again, not without freshening the sting in your scraped palms or the incessant pounding just beneath your rib cage.

And yet, he couldn’t bare to see the familiarity of hate finally poison the only form of comfort and affection he’s had since his mother left him or keep up his appearance by finishing the fight your stupid ex-boyfriend had started.

Billy cannot remember the space of time between then and the vibrations through the cool leather under his thighs as the Camaro roared out of there. Out of everyone’s accusing eyes—even the piece of shit Tommy H. had nothing to say. And as he sits on his unruly bed with his head in his hands, Billy cannot even tell what’s worst: the fact that he ran away with his tail between his legs or the fact that he left behind the only girl he’d ever taken seriously.

The sound of skateboard wheels aggressively running over cracks and bumps in the pavement go through one ear and out the other—there’s no room in Billy’s loud head for the outside world to settle. Not the creaks from the stubborn doorknob. Not the slamming of the front door nor the stomping of size five Keds as they approach his bedroom.

Everything is dead to him until the thirteen-year-old he barely tolerates stands at his doorway with her hands on her waist and a scowl on her freckled face.

“What?”

Billy’s dirty blond locks hang over his face in the fashion of a veil as his hands act like a mask. He hasn’t looked up from his position on the bed nor has his favorite mirror caught a glimpse of his vanity. He’s avoiding the very face he was gifted, afraid to finally see the monster that had frightened you.

“Do you have brain damage or something?” Max’s voice is too loud compared to the silence that’s embraced him for the past ten minutes. “You were supposed to pick me up, and don’t dare try to say I was late—”

“Leave me alone.” His voice is muffled.

Max’s blue eyes scrutinize Billy’s pathetic form. His hair’s a mess and she can tell he hasn’t lifted a single weight since he got home—the faded jean jacket still hangs off his broad shoulders. Her next set of words are far more gentler, yet still carries the same edge: “Did somebody die?”

“No.” His shoulders slump just a bit lower. “Go play with your stupid dolls. I don’t care.”

“Ew, you know I don’t touch that shit.”

Billy’s hands smooth down his warm face, and she sees it. The sensitive skin around his eyes are tinged red. “Go away,” he waves her away as he digs for a stray cigarette in his pocket.

His trembling fingers manage to grasp the tip of the cigarette he knew he had hid and shoves it between his lips, suckling on the dry stick as if he were dying of thirst. And before he even knows it, he’s patting himself down for a lighter.

As the trusty lighter remains incognito, the feeling of ants crawling over his taut muscles amplifies. Then he remembers, there’s a shitty spare in his bedside drawer under some wrinkled school assignments marked with grades his father wouldn’t approve of. But as he shakes, flicking the flint wheel over and over again hoping for just a spark, he remembers he never went down to the liquor store to refill its fluids.

“Fuck!” Max flinches as the cheap plastic crashes against the wall wisps away from her head. “What the hell?!”

“Shit…” Billy collapses against his bed in tune with the breath in his lungs. “Sorry.”

Max faces her dirty tennis shoes, sucking on her bottom lip as a million scenarios in which how her step-brother could have fucked up past through her mind. Every sweeping thought involved you somehow, and she actually kind of liked you.

“Go find her.”

The ceiling stares down on him, every groove and every indent. Good thing plaster and paint don’t have a conscience to judge him, despite always being the witness of Billy at his worst.

“What?” Billy’s not sure he heard right, especially when Max never meddles in his business.

A Ked nears his bed in a tentative step forward. “Go fix whatever happened.”

The lines embedded in his forehead loosen up like the curls that frame his face. All anyone ever does is automatically point the finger at him. It started with his father until even Billy started to believe that maybe he was the fuck-up his father said he’d always be.

“Prove to her that everyone in this shithole is wrong about you,” Max keeps her gaze settled on him, watching for any sort of cautionary reaction, “or whatever.”

Billy takes a deep breath. “Why should I listen to you?” he scoffs, “You’re thirteen.”

If there’s anything that Max knows about her step-brother is his loose temper. Living under the same roof as him taught her that Neil had long since snapped the leather of Billy’s leash in half, despite the older man pretending it was the fault of the dog’s breed rather than his own treatment of it.

Her legs are ready to run to her room, but her feet have found the courage to stand on the stained carpet. Max swallows some of her insecurities, “Because you’re scared.”

Besides you, Max is the only other person who can read and solve him like a simple math equation. It’s the only thing you two have in common, and it’s irritating as fuck.

Blue eyes snap to her for a moment as his shoulders straighten. “Hey! I’m not scared,” but then his eyes trail to the bikini-chick poster taped to his closet door and the energy keeping his frustration together disintegrates. “I have to babysit you, brat. There’s a difference.”

“You can.” A sigh leaves her chapped lips when Billy gives her a confused look. “I’ll call Neil, tell him I asked you to take me to the arcade. Not a big deal.”

It takes a moment before the lubrication reaches the rusty gears in his brain. He sits up and runs a hand through his locks. It’s not like he’s never gone behind his father’s back. “Where are you actually going?”

Max shrugs, “None of your business.”

 ~

The drive there is only possible due to muscle memory, an acquired reflex after driving down this familiar neighborhood so many times while all his senses have been locked on you. Complex guitar-solos screeching through the speakers, yet your sweet-as-honey voice always managing to seep through the noise. His hand reaching out to where it belongs—on the flesh of your thigh. Girly-scented shampoo invading his nostrils as your lips focused on his neck. Half-lidded eyes painting murals across the windshield, of your bedroom, ruffled sheets, and how he wanted to ravage you.

Except now, his sweaty palms cling to the steering wheel as the road ahead looks the same as the school’s parking lot—smooth, with a seal-coat. His favorite metal tunes for the evening is the gasp that left your lips when you hit the ground. The scent of your shampoo is replaced by David’s breath, reeking of cheap whiskey as he purposely bumped shoulders. His artistic eye tries to imagine a chance to win you back, but all he gets is hacked images of your locked front door.

The only thing that isn’t different is the fact that the rules of the road only ever came second to Billy’s mood. Third, after he met you.

When he’d first found out they were moving to buttfuck Indiana, he thought his life was for sure over. Or, at least the beginning of a count-down until his eighteen birthday when he’d be legally free to move back to California. When they’d finally arrived at Hawkins, it was even worse than anything his mind had conjured. It smelled like manure and the girls had nothing on Californian babes.

The town only became a little bit more tolerable once he beat his only competition, Steve Harrington, and was crowned the new king of Hawkins High. But, even then, livestock droppings still wafted in the air and the girls he had one night stands with resembled cows to the point that he was having sex with his eyes closed for the first time in his life.

That is until he bumped into you months into the fall semester.

You had been carrying one of the expensive cameras that belonged to the school, walking as you inspected the piece crafted by Greek gods themselves. In the seconds you had collided with a hard body, you were sure you’d have to kiss goodbye your monthly allowance for the heartbreak that was just about to happen.

The camera never made impact with the linoleum. Instead, it was nestled in the palms of the new kid you had vowed to never interact with. Especially not when the stories you’ve heard around school said that he was just a replica in spirit of your cheating ex-boyfriend. But you had snorted out of disbelief, and the hideous sound out of your bare lips had been enough to capture Billy Hargrove’s interest.

Soon, the promise of never giving another badboy the time of day was snipped with a pair of scissors as you found yourself in his passenger seat, glancing out of the window with a fresh coat of mascara on your virgin eyelashes. Him being new to the town, he had no idea where to take you for your first date together. Benny’s diner had been the destination. Bless his heart.

The standard date had awkward pauses, and even more awkward jokes from Billy’s end. French fries were shared and your fingers kept brushing together like a magnetic pull. You had been sure at the moment that it had to have been the attraction between the rings on his fingers and the ones on yours. It wasn’t the gleam in his bedroom eyes nor the inviting scent of his cologne nor the smooth skin that was revealed by a couple of loose buttons.

When he dropped you off in front of your house, he had admitted that those corny jokes were in hopes to hear that ugly snort one more time. Offense had turned to flattery when he poked his head out the driver’s side window and asked you out on another date for the following day.

You cannot believe you had fallen victim to his charm. A spell the heartbreak over David had taught you to avoid. But, you felt worse knowing that most of the shedding tears are for the death of what was the best you had felt in months. You have had first-hand experience of learning that rollercoasters are not escalators, yet you fooled yourself anyway.

You had thought that expressing loving attention was enough to extinguish a firecracker that’s ready to explode on the Fourth of July. Who knew you’re arrogant enough to think that you possessed that sort of power over anyone, especially a rough-around-the-edges type of boy like Billy. A boy who clearly needs a damn therapist instead of some soft teenage girl with an ugly laugh who’s capable of whispering sweet things into his awaiting ear during sex.

You don’t know how long you’ve been under the comforter with a teddy bear clutched in your arms, staring at your reflection from the floor-mirror in the corner of your room.

Your parents are currently away for their anniversary in some tropical island, sipping on margaritas, while your brother has yet to show his face in this fortress. The telephone has been ringing on and off since Nancy Wheeler had offered you a ride home.

Riding with Nancy was the safest bet. She’s nice, knows when to keep quiet, and doesn’t know you enough to bombard you with questions. Unlike your best friend, who without a doubt always has your best interest in mind, but is too comfortable to give you enough space to mourn. Judilyn talks more than she listens, and you know that half those calls are from her just to tell you about how sorry Billy will be once she gets her hands on him.

You know you should be begging God to turn back time, for another opportunity to change the outcome. You would have been paying attention to where you were going; you wouldn’t have invited him into your little world with your laugh. And you definitely would have kept your arms securely crossed over your chest as the only shield you had against cupid’s arrow.

But, you aren’t. Because despite the shove that sent you sprawling on the cement and the scowl on his face that was so deeply rooted in hate, you’re still madly in love with him. The boy who offers you his jackets when you’re shivering in the howling winds of night. The boy who combs his fingers through your tresses as your naked chests rest as one. The boy who doesn’t care that you don’t try to hide the slight bags beneath your eyes nor any blemishes on your skin you may be battling for the week. The boy who wanted you to express your flawed laugh when, previously, David would have made fun of you for it. The boy who who throughout it all, had been trying his best to show you just how beautiful you, the yearbook girl who hides behind the camera, really are.

 ~

You don’t realize you’d fallen asleep until there’s a couple of suspicious sounds outside your window.

The sun casts a golden hue across the sky, seeping into your second-story bedroom and stretching out the shadows of your furniture. You don’t care for the picturesque beauty at the moment; all you want to do is tell Judilyn, who sometimes climbs up your window when you’re ignoring her, to leave you in peace.

The comforter slides off your shoulders as your feet sink into the plush carpet. You’re still in your ruined skirt and the scuffs on your palms haven’t been washed yet, but that has yet to cross your mind from your sleep-roused state.

You slide the window open with every attempt to send your best friend away. “Judy, I thought I made it clear I want to be left a—!”

His mullet shows up first before his glazed cerulean eyes. His cocky voice is nothing but a whisper: “Hey.”

To be continued.

A/N: So, this is the first Stranger Things fic I’ve ever written! I feel pretty accomplished. Let me know what y’all think. I’m down to do more, especially since I’m so mad by what happened to Billy. I can’t promise I’ll be quick because I’m currently balancing a work-heavy summer course, a job, and my own novel.

[alarriefantasy]

Howdy ! Hope you’re doing well. Just wondering if you have some fics where either H or L are superhero’s :^)

Only if you update Good of Mind, Body and Eye (Anselmet) 😜 Lol! Just kidding (kinda), although I do really love the beginning of that fic!!!! And yes, of course I can rec you some!! Hope you find some you like! :)

                                         Superhero Fic Rec

restore me, restore life the way it should be by softambrollins

Words: 3k

Superpowers!AU. Loosely based on Sky High.

Close Your Mouth I Just Wanna Hear Your Body Talk by Phillipa19

Words: 3k

Harry is a superhero who cares too much. Louis isn’t happy coming second after Harry’s need to protect the city. Harry needs to persuade Louis that he is definitely his top priority.

Of Heroes and Villains by larrymylove

Words: 6k

Superhero AU. Louis is a Superhero. Harry is an Evil Villain (who happens to steal flowers). They’re also flatmates who maybe sort of have crushes on each other - when they aren’t either driving each other crazy or beating the snot out of each other.

Won’t You Love Me? by Halos_Boat

Words: 6k

Where Louis is Spider-Man, Harry is oblivious, Liam has a problem with communicating his feelings, Zayn is frustratingly handsome and Niall has a pet turtle.

Whatever A Spider Can by Stylinsob

Words: 7k

And yeah, things weren’t perfect, they weren’t even close. And it would probably take a lot of sleepless nights and painful sobs for Louis to get through this (Harry would be there to dry his tears though. He always was) and Harry would probably have to try harder to keep Louis safe and they were going to have to talk about what happened.

But right now, wrapped in each other’s arms in a dirty bathtub in some cheap city house, all they needed was each other.

(Or a fic in which Harry is SpiderMan and Louis is his Mary Jane)

Isolationist by anomalation

Words: 8k

A Sky High AU where Harry can fly, Louis is shocking (literally), and Zayn really wishes Harry would stop thinking details at him during every spare moment.

We’re mesmerized (we’re fire and ice) by larrycaring

Words: 11k

Louis and Harry have fire and ice respectively as superpowers. Everything opposes them, and yet they’ve never been so close.

under me, you by hazzafrazza (colberry)

Words: 12k

Or: Harry wants a lot of things – fame, glory, Louis – but that last one is particularly hard to get when everyone thinks you’re dating your secret superhero alter-ego and suddenly you’ve become your own worst cockblock.

lost my senses (i’m defenseless) by bradleyxconnor

Words: 13k

-the one where louis’s a technology genius who uses his powers for bad instead of good and somehow doesn’t know his enemy is also his roommate.

Weaker without you by Tita

Words: 14k

Louis and Harry have superpowers but that doesn’t really define their lives. What does is meeting each other, and school and prom and life and bullies. But they get through that together because they’re harryandlouis and they were meant to be, right from the start.

Or, the one where they have powers and grow up together.

The Knight of London Is A Huge Jackass (And Harry’s Boyfriend) by orphan_account

Words: 17k

Louis neglects to tell his boyfriend that he’s also a superhero on the side. Oops?

hope is like a drug in this wild wild world by 5sexualhomos

Words: 21k

Louis is a mutant who has been on the run for months, from Sentinel Services, the branch of the government responsible for catching mutants and torturing them. He prefers to stay alone, but when an accident exposes him and a friend. He must team up with an underground group of mutants to fight for what's right.

Something Just Like This by kiwikero 

Words: 31k

Newspaper intern Harry Styles can’t believe his luck when he goes from fetching coffee for his boss to writing about London’s own superheroes, One Direction. Even better, he gets to spend time with the unfairly handsome Freefall, also known as Louis Tomlinson. Louis, who is way out of Harry’s league and far too busy for a proper relationship—so how on earth is Harry supposed to tell him they’re expecting?

Don’t turn away now by Tita

Words: 34k

If a year ago you’d told Harry he’d team up with a gang of semi-criminal mutants to save his ass and the world while falling in love, he would’ve laughed in your face but, alas, it’s exactly what he’s done.

My Love is a Fortress (My Love is a Louvre) by zimriya

Words: 51k

Harry likes to think he’s juggling the whole part-time uni student, part-time superhero thing rather well, strictly speaking, because despite the fact that he has absolutely no social life outside of uni lectures and clandestine, midnight crime fighting, at least no one’s gone and died on his watch. Yet.

A Superhero AU.

Bye Bye’s Are Not For Legends (I’m Forever Young) by kikikryslee

Words: 51k

A Superhero AU where Louis, Liam and Niall are immortal and have superpowers - Liam can clone himself, Niall can inflict pain at the drop of a hat and Louis can kill with the blink of an eye - and want fellow immortal Harry, who puts a twist on the term ‘mind control,’ to join their group in order to save the world.

we’ve got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry

Words: 54k

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn’s love life, though, that they don’t notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

Yellow by 13ways

Words: 84k

The city of Gotham turns blood red with a new, mysterious criminal element, a beautiful woman named the Blind Cupid.

She threatens to tear the fabric of the city apart, aided by her deadly protégé, the Cat.

Can Batman stop them?

Will he resist the bewitching allures of the Cat?

A Batman/ Catwoman AU

Boy Falls From the Sky by fookinloosah

Words: 107k

Superheroes. America is full of them — complete with masks, nauseating pseudonyms, and neon spandex suits. There’s none of that nonsense in Britain, thank you very much…until Harry Styles’ X Factor audition takes an unexpected turn, and Britain’s first hero is born.

Also featuring Louis as a man of many masks, Zayn the rebel comic artist, Liam as Britain’s counter-attack to Justin Bieber, and Niall the trusty guitarist.

Supernova by Star55

Words: 172k

It’s hard being a teenager. It’s hard being a teenager and at a new school. It’s hard being a teenager, at a new school and also gay. It’s hard being a teenager, at a new school, gay and a mutant. It’s hard being a teenager, at a new school, gay, a mutant and who has no idea that he’s meant to be the world’s next super hero. It seems like Louis has a lot of catching up to do.

[caiminnent]

glass houses [Shaun & Lucy with mentions of one-sided shaundes & deslucy, rated T]

Prompt(s): sleep deprivation (BTHB, 2/25) + 14

Summary: “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Tags: College AU, Bonding, Pining, Unrequited Crush

2.3K || Also on AO3.

Forty three—no, forty two minutes left to have lunch, get his essay printed and rush to Leonardo’s office on the other side of the campus—and Rebecca is still droning on and on about the part next Saturday, because clearly the life he doesn’t have is more important than the grade he won’t be getting unless they pick up the pace already. Murder on school grounds would probably get him expelled, among other things, which is why he’s only contemplating it; but an under-slept, under-caffeinated man has his limits and he is approaching his fast.

“No, Rebecca,” he repeats on a deep sigh as they finally get in line behind a couple in matching PJ’s, seemingly having a heated argument through sharp looks and contained gestures in that way only couples can. “I do not want to come to the party, thank you very much. I’m not even invited, remember?”

“I could ask Lucy,” she offers, unfazed. “We’re having lunch with her anyway, I could mention it then—”

His stomach drops.

“—I’m sure she won’t mind. I mean, the more the merrier—”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, “We’re what?” he cuts in. The Couple glance over with raised brows and pursed lips, as if he sullied their petty issues by having his own.

She frowns. “What?”

He just shakes his head. Lunch with Lucy, Christ. Today just keeps giving. “You won’t ask her to invite me,” he says, pinning her with his I Mean It, Rebecca look. “Or don’t even hope for a single page from my notes ever again.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll swear on anything, Rebecca.”

Fishing her phone out of her pocket, “Whatever,” she throws, fingers already dancing on the screen. His own remains suspiciously silent in his bag. “What’s your beef with Lucy anyway?”

The Couple aren’t even pretending not to listen in, half-turned in their direction as they are. He glares steadily at them until they get their noses out of his business and back into their own, although some of those meaningful looks are probably about him this time. Hell if he cares.

“I don’t even know Lucy,” he points out, rubbing at the throbbing spot over his brow—not that that’s ever helped. “Why would I have a problem with her?”

“You get weird whenever I mention her, man. Coulda thought you had a thing for her if I didn’t know better.” Pockets the phone again, shrugging a shoulder at his look. “It’s either that or hate.”

Oh for the love of— “I don’t hate her, either,” he says—the truth, too, no matter the disbelieving face she makes at him. He has no real reason to hate Lucy. He just... doesn’t prefer to share space with her if he doesn’t absolutely have to.

If he sometimes goes out of his way to make sure he doesn’t, well.

By some miracle—more likely, because they’re finally within reach of food—she drops the subject, shoving a tray into his hands and grabbing one of her own. His stomach curls into itself at the sight of half the containers, the other half he can’t even recognise beyond had it before and didn’t die.

He accepts a serving of each and trails off after Rebecca.

Once they push past the growing crowd towards the tables, scanning the sea of heads, “You should try to get along with Lucy, you know,” she pipes up—because Rebecca leaving anything alone would’ve been too much like good luck to happen to him. “You know who she’s friends with.”

“Rebecca.”

“I’m just saying. Sheesh, someone’s touchy today.”

And whose fault is that, he’s about to snap when he spots Lucy off to the side, dumping an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee—from Creed Coffee, no less. His first stop as soon as he drops off his essay; he’s earned a treat.

Because it’s just that kind of day, Lucy chooses that moment to look up and catch him staring like a buffoon. She beams at him like there was no one she would’ve been happier to see, waving them over.

“There she is,” Rebecca says, taking a sharp turn in her direction. He follows suit, squeezing between tables she breezes through and almost spilling his chow all over people on three separate occasions until they safely take their places across from Lucy.

To his credit, when Lucy smiles at him again, he does try to return it. His face muscles ignore the command entirely.

The women have already jumped into conversation on nothing he particularly cares about; he tunes them out for the most part and buries himself into his ‘food’ instead, fielding Rebecca’s attempts to lure him in with one-word responses and the occasional grunt when he can get away with it. About twenty minutes left; he can make it if he hurries. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Ignore him,” she stage-whispers to Lucy—with ‘him’ sitting right next to them, thank you very much. “His coffee machine broke last night.”

The audacity. “She means she broke it,” he clarifies around his spoon. It’s not grumbling if he’s right.

“Semantics,” she waves it off, reaching for her coat. “I’ll fix it when I get back, promise.”

“Wait, where the hell are you going?”

Raising her brows, “To turn in our papers, like we talked?” Rebecca says, confusion so thick in her tone that he almost doubts his own memory—except he could recognise that glint in her eyes anywhere. “You’ll keep Lucy company while I’m gone, right?”

That meddling little—

“Right,” he says for Lucy’s benefit, who is glancing between them with polite curiosity, doing his best to convey you owe me so much for this with one look. “Of course I will.”

Rebecca dares to grin at him, dropping the pretence altogether. All of three seconds and she’s off, leaving only an unused fork behind.

Without her around, the table has gone alarmingly smaller, Lucy everywhere within his sight unless he stares straight down at his tray. Had he ever been alone with Lucy before? Alone alone, within speaking distance, without anything or anyone to hide behind?

He doesn’t even have coffee to hide behind now.

One slides in front of him.

Raising her hands, “You look like you need it more,” Lucy explains, that too-warm smile on her lips; he feels shittier the longer he looks at it. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He did catch a sight of himself on the way here—not his best moment.

The polite no, thank you he should say is on the tip of his tongue—almost impossible to get out with the warm temptation is sitting right there in front of him, right under his nose, smelling—well, sort of like a unicorn exploded in there and caramel. Not that he can afford to be picky.  

Besides, he’s survived vending machine sludge; it only goes up from there.

“Come on, take it,” she insists, honest-to-god batting eyelashes at him. “So that I can feel a little better about asking for your ComLit notes next week.”

He snorts and accepts the bribe, only too eager. It’s syrupy to the point of nauseating, not unlike those energy drinks Rebecca fills the dustbin with, except with a lot less immediate kick. He doubts there’s any caffeine in there, even.

Magic might be involved, however, given the way he’s already feeling a tad closer to human.

He nods his thanks. She returns it.

“You know, Shaun,” she starts slowly, with an odd sort of caution—or maybe he’s just not used to people who think before they speak anymore. “I don’t know what Rebecca threatened you with, but you don’t have to sit with me just to be nice. I know you don’t really like me.”

He can’t help a wince—then a deeper one, when it hits that this was probably among the worst ways he could’ve reacted to a statement like that. Leave it to him to put his foot in his mouth without even opening it.

“It’s fine,” she adds, saving him from himself. “I mean it. Not everyone has to be friends.”

That’s not it, not at all.

Thing is, under different circumstances, they could’ve been friends, he and Lucy. He doesn’t know her, not really; but by the electives they keep coming across each other in and the books she carries, he doesn’t doubt they could find plenty to talk about if, if, he could get his head out of his arse and get over—

Well. He obviously can’t tell her all that.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not you,” he allows, the closest thing to an explanation he can afford to give.

“It’s okay,” she says gently, those huge, impossibly blue puppy eyes of hers trained on his. “I know.”

Blood freezes in his veins.

It’s a simple phrase. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond the face value. There’s no reason for it to; he’d been careful—more than, really—but that smile, all sadness and sympathy—

He swallows against the bitter taste in his mouth, a light burn all the way down his throat, pooling in the pit of his stomach. “You do?”

“I do,” she confirms, jerking her head somewhere to his far right. He follows her gaze to—

Oh, hell. She does.

“He doesn’t know,” she answers his unasked question, lowly enough that the rush of blood in his ears almost drowns out the words. “Don’t worry, you’re not obvious about it or anything.”

Clearly he is, if she noticed.

He risks another glance—he is sprawled on his seat with an arm resting on the other one, laughing at whatever bollocks story Cross might be telling, that stupid one-strap bag of his sitting on the table.

“You’re sure he doesn’t?” he has to ask, heart both at his feet and racing in his chest somehow.

She nods. “Positive. He’s the worst when it comes to this sort of thing, you wouldn’t believe it. He won’t notice unless you come at him with a brick that says I like you.”

Something at the back of his mind prickles like static.

See, past the initial shock, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’d gone wrong. As far as social circles go, his and his are on different planes entirely. They don’t have mutual friends beyond the tangential; they don’t frequent the same places unless Rebecca drags him out to Bad Weather; they hardly talked enough for him to develop this… thing he’s been saddled with, even. He’d thought—as long as he kept to his corner of life where he doesn’t have to face them, he’d thought he could pretend his feelings away.

It had never even occurred to him that someone might notice him not looking. That someone might have reason to care why.

He’s fairly certain of the answer when he asks, his stomach heavy with dread, “Speaking from experience?”

Her face goes carefully blank. It’s as good a confirmation as any.

He takes a deep breath, locking the irrational sting of disappointment down and away, where he can pretend it doesn’t exist, either. What does it matter if she is the competition? He had decided not to pursue that line of thought long ago. What does it matter if he’d already lost?

“You’re not obvious, either,” he tries. She smiles, if that rueful little curl can be called one. “He doesn’t know?”

She shrugs, too nonchalant to actually be that. “Or doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. I dropped, like, a lot of hints; no one’s that oblivious.”

Would it be awkward if he kind of sort of maybe wants to give her a hug?

It would, wouldn’t it.

What even is his life.

“Anyway,” she sighs, glancing at her watch. “Time to leave. Vidic’s class.”

Ugh. That he doesn’t envy her for. “Good luck,” he offers, reaching for the cup again—a bit sorry to have taken it from her, now.

She makes a face. “Thanks.” She drops her spoon on her mostly full tray, Rebecca’s abandoned fork with it. “By the way, it’s his birthday next Saturday. We’re having a party at our place; you should come.”

He almost chokes on the next sip, saved by a stray half second. “Me?”

She raises a brow, a perfectly arched duh.

His brain stutters. Why does she—why would she want him there, if she knows? If she—

It makes no sense.

Lucy is still seated across from him, calmly waiting him out like there’s nothing odd to this. Just two friends making casual weekend plans.

Not all that sure it’s not the exhaustion fucking with him, he licks his lips. “So you’re fine with…”

“That you’re on the same boat?” She shrugs again, zipping up her jacket. “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”

Huh.

Digging into her bag, she comes up with a blue marker, reaching for the other cup. “My number,” she says as she writes on the sleeve and puts it back, written part facing him—all neat, efficient lines, because of course. “Let me know if you make up your mind.”

He nods blankly, for lack of a better response. She smiles, standing up with her tray.

She’s already halfway to the door when he remembers: “I’ll bring the notes!”

She winks at him over her shoulder, fixes her bag and disappears into the crowd.