#and that I’m allowed to exist!!! as a person!!!!! instead of being this decoration in someone’s room!!!!!

[kikithefox231]

KIKI I LOVE YOU!!! AND I AM SO PROUD OF YOU FOR KEEPING GOING AND FOR BEING HERE!!! YOU ARE SO AMAZING AND INSPIRING I HOPE YOU KNOW 💖💝💞💝 Holds your hands and gives you little flowers like this -> 🌼🌼🌻🌺🌺🌹🏵️💐🪻🌻 Mental health issues are rough and I am rooting for you the whole way

WAAAAAAAGHHHH????? YOURE SO INCREDIBLY SWEET THANK U SO SO MUCH!!!!! SO SORRY FOR NOT REPLYING TO YOUR MESSAGES YET BUT JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE AND IT MEANS SM TO ME!!!!!!! <333333

THANK YOU!!!!!!! Keeping the flowers safe in a lil vase forever 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 WAAAGH!!!!

Man, yesterday my mental health just completely snapped like a twig out of nowhere and oof o(-( dam of all my issues and problems just came rushing out!!! Yuh oh!!!!! O_O;

So so grateful that I’ve been able to reach out to others for support and that my medication helped me even allow that to be an option (body and brain doesn’t automatically reject any idea of getting external help??? INSANE‼️‼️)

Just taking things easy for now and making sure my head stays above water as I get through this!! It’s definitely rough but I know I genuinely want to get out of this bad situation and for things to change, even if only by a little bit. And I’m starting to genuinely believe that I deserve better and to be treated better!!! And that I deserve to treat myself better, because I do genuinely love existing and being a person on this earth. <333 I think I’m still a long way from getting to a point of being able to truly say that I love myself or can even tolerate myself but I’m choosing to let myself exist more, take up more space, talk more, etc because maybe the reason why I can’t stand myself is because I’ve never let myself truly exist without sanding myself into the most palatable and agreeable version of me

So!!! If I let myself live as a real person, maybe I can finally see and understand the full and real me and then start to really love myself <3

ANYWAYS!!! THANK U FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!!!!!! And thank you for sending this ask so I can use it as an excuse to journal and write down my self reflection stuff that’s been rotating in my brain for the last several hours LOL

THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE AND FLOWERS AND EVERYTHING!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖 MEANS SO SO MUCH TO ME!!!!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 HOPE YOUVE BEEN DOING WELL TOO!!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖

[adventuringblind]

Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Eight

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: Reader travels back home to see her family with Max and Oscar. Things escalate a bit more then intended.

Warnings: religious things/trauma, sucky parents, talks of sexual activity

Notes: As someone who comes from a toxic church… this was much needed

Masterlist

Normally, Oscar is not a smug person. He doesn't rub things in people's faces (unless it's Lando). But in this moment, he allows himself to be a little smug.

The trio had made their way back to the females home for a weekend of their summer break. The last interaction he had with her parents was in formula two when they’d come to watch a race and got a glimpse of her terrible partners and her kissing around the corner.

He had to hold back his anger when he saw how uncomfortable she looked. Then he expected maybe her parents to do something about it. Instead they ridiculed her. Berated her. Essentially told her the devil had invaded her life.

She just stood there and took it. To the point where he stepped in and pulled her away because she looked distant. Numb to the world.

He hadn’t seen them since, and neither had she. Though he knows they talk occasionally.

Max, on the other hand, has never met them. Oscar had tried to give him a few pointers, but he'd already seen the fire behind his eyes. This was going to be a long weekend if Max had already settled for being an agent of chaos.

The trio makes their way to where their car is waiting to take them. The car where her parent are standing and waiting for them. Oscar wants nothing more then to see them pass out over their daughter and how well off she is. How successful she’s become without them.

She hugs them both when they get to the car. They look uncomfortable with the other two being around. “Welcome home. I thought it was just going to be you?” Questions her father. Oscar and Max both smile and go to shake his hand to introduce themselves, but he doesn’t reciprocate. Instead he frowns. And turns his attention back to his daughter.

“I said I wasn’t coming without them. If that makes you uncomfortable then we can always get back on the jet.”

“It’s fine- just be… decent, please.”

Oscar can hear Max inhale sharply. A look of annoyance crosses his features.

The Aussie is shocked that Max even agreed to such a thing. The entire point in coming here is to go to church with her parents, prove they aren’t possessed (or something like that) then leave. and frankly, max doesn’t seem like the kind of person to try to hold his tongue about his opinion for an entire weekend.

Their things go into the back and they climb into the (smaller then imagined) car. It’s certainly not something they normally travel in, but it feels like cuddling since its the three of them. So- Oscar can hardly complain much.

The majority of the ride is awkward small talk. Max eventually starts animatedly explaining something and in the heat of the moment his filter slips.

“Sorry- we don’t normally talk like that.”

“Good thing I can swear enough for the both of us then.” Max chuckles and the other two in the back start wheezing.

Yeah… it’s going to be a long weekend.

~

The house is relatively standard. Definitely not what they are used to seeing. Or at least, that’s what the female thinks as they they enter the house.

Her room has been emptied. It’s a little heartbreaking since they didn’t tell her. It’s like any trace of her existence has been erased. The bed is bigger then her old one and the room is void of any kind of decoration.

“Home sweet home.”

Max closes the door behind him. “I’m shocked they are letting us sleep together. They aren’t going to attempt an exorcism are them?”

all three of them toss their bodies onto the bed. “You have no idea how glad I am your here. It would suck to do this alone.”

“So- anyone up for purposely being as loud as possible and making the prudes out there think we’re having sex?” Max looks entirely to innocent. But Oscar looks even more so.

“Why fake it when we can do the real thing?”

“You two are terrible.”

The next morning is what she is absolutely dreading. Waking up when it’s still dark outside is not something any of them are good at. Add in that it’s for a religious event- They are rushing around getting ready.

It’s also sucks when they step out of the room, ready to go, the strength to face the inevitable.

“You’re not leaving in that.” Her father looks her up and down and her jaw tightens. The nerve of the man. She’s a fucking adult!

“I mean- she could be naked.” Oscar shrugs. It’s Max’s turn to keel over at a comment made. In reality, he’s not wrong. She wonders if it’s the lack of leggings for a dress that brushes the backs of her thighs. Or maybe it’s that he can see her shoulders.

Her parents start on some tangent that she tuned out about two sentences in. She makes eye contact with both boys. One looks exasperated like her and on the verge of just leaving early. The other is seething. Entirely red in the face.

Max’s hand hits the wall with an unrelenting force. “Sorry, I was compelled by the spirit… of anger! What the fuck are either of you talking about? either we leave here to whatever cult event this is, or we go home. But let her wear what she’s going to wear.”

The car ride is silent. Though she’s glad, because her nerves pick up immensely when they arrive. Max and Oscar pick up easily on her shaky hands. The product ends with her in-between them, the two males swinging her back and forth. She feels mildly like a child, but it’s calming, so she could care less.

The church is dead inside. Only a singular office light on. One that she dreads as she spent many hours inside of it. “Please tell me we’re not here to meet with the pastor.”

Her worst fear are come to life. Sitting on the sofa between Oscar and Max. Her parents on the other side and the pastor in a chair staring directly at her.

“I didn’t think you’d be back, y/n.” The voice she hates makes her shiver when it says her name.

“That makes two of us.”

“Are these your… friends?”

Max clicks his tongue. “Boyfriends.”

“It’s impossible to have two partners.” He sighs. Dissatisfied with Max’s correction. “You can’t possibly have a good sexual relationship between three people.”

Oscar coughs. “I beg to differ.” He shrugs and the pastor eyes him suspiciously.

“And why’s that?”

“I mean if you really want the details- just remember that you asked for it.” Oscar sits up in his seat and leans over his elbows. His hands now clasped in front of him. “Me and Max have a game we play that usually ends up in some kind of unpredictable scenario. I wouldn’t say we fight for control, we just race for it. She’s a bottom through and through and will do anything either of us says so that part is pretty easy. Plus, not to brag, but my rope work is getting better.” There is a few breaths of stunned silence as Oscar sits back into the couch.

The pastor looks at her parents. “Can we step outside for a moment?” Then the three get up and leave.

“That was the most brilliant display I have ever seen.l Max finally lets out the laughter he’s been biting back. “Did you see their faces? Priceless!”

“I don’t think my parents will ever talk to me again after this.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing? All they do is make you feel horrible about yourself. It might not be a bad idea to cut contact for a while.” Oscar draws circles on to her thing. The pattern being one of comfort that he uses often.

“Can we call a cab or something? I am very ready to go.” She sighs.

“Great plan! But first I think we should really piss them off.” Max’s suggestive smirk can’t mean anything good.

~

It doesn’t take the three long to locate her parents outside of the office. They gasp when they see what she looks like. A few lovely hickies down her neck and shoulder. Her hair misplaced in all kinds of directions. They say nothing about it.

“It’s been nice seeing you, but we’re going to head back to Monaco now. Also, please don’t try to contact me again.”

They jump into some kind of lecture, but it’s to late. The trio heads for their ride that’s waiting for them outside the doors

Max, however, takes the opportunity to flip them off as they walk away.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Birthday Cake (Vil Schoenheit)

There's actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

“What’s this now, you little rascal?” Vil pokes the girl’s side in the hopes of hearing her sweet giggling. “First you make me stay past my bedtime, then you expose me to the cold, and now you try to endanger my sugar intake?”

(Y/N)’s giggles only get louder as she holds onto the cupcake for dear life so it doesn’t fall in her laughing fit. Vil can’t help his own laughter, gently poking and pinching her sides a few more times before allowing her into his arms once again, burying his nose in her hair. The plan for tonight was to stargaze, but it’s far too cold for them to be outside, so instead they agreed on laying in his bed with the windows open.

How his girlfriend managed to dissuade Rook from barging in his room at midnight to wish him a happy birthday is beyond him, but he’s grateful nonetheless. They’re both very busy people, which makes time alone hard to come by, so being able to share his birthday with her, just the two of them, is truly a blessing. He knows that later there will be a party that he’ll have to share with his dorm and schoolmates, thus this moment is to be cherished.

“It’s not very sugary, though,” she says once the giggling subsides. “Trey and Rook helped me find a low sugar recipe and decorate it.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I’m already endangering your skin with the late night and risking a runny nose with the window open, I can’t very well mess with your food intake, can I?”

They both know he’d absolutely eat the cupcake even if it was of pure sugar. Just today, though.

“So, here! Happy birthday, gorgeous~”

The cupcake is so beautiful, he can see the messy corners of the purple topping and how the golden candle is slightly crooked. Made of love. Made of love for his existence. Made of love he wishes they can forever share as he blows the candle. The wish leaves a sweet aftertaste on his mouth as he laughs at the happy face she makes when she pulls the candle out and places it on a napkin—not without licking the excess cupcake from it.

“Go on, eat! I swear it tastes good!”

“You should bite it first,” Vil offers the treat to her, kissing her nose softly. “Isn’t that how it goes in your world? The first slice goes to the person you love the most?”

And maybe he cheats a little and kisses her right after she takes a bite, the piece of cupcake sweetening their kiss, but, hey, how can he not love everything she does?

If Vil were to define a true blessing, one that isn’t dependent on consequence or condition, one that cannot be seen as a curse, then this moment right here would be it.

[object-headed-characters-yes]

Day 8- Role Swap

Click and RGB swap; Click regrets his decision. Very much regrets it (I’m still thinking about their interaction, so this one-shot happened.

(Some tags: role swap, resentment, angst, betrayal)

A possible to-be soldier in his old world, a hero in this one, yet denied the heroic end to his journey in this world of make-believe.

He refused to let this he end of his journey, as he’d been told it was. He refused to accept that this was how it ended.

Broken and bleeding, clothing in tatters.

Click thinks that he demanded another chance. A do-over, as it were, to change this outcome. It must have been allowed, for She was amused by his words (Click rankles at the amusement; he should have succeeded, not lost as he had). But Click was allowed to try again, but unlike before, he was not the hero. He was instead tasked with finding one instead, which was not what he wanted but what he got.

Click’s body was no longer human, either. It was a rigid, mainly inorganic body. A facsimile of a soldier; a tin soldier whose body was made up of weapons that he had used on his initial journey. As much as Click disliked being put in this position, he still existed, and that allowed him to attain the goal from before, just in a roundabout way.

First, he needed to find a hero.

He went back to the world he’d come from, and took his time choosing the person he would bring back with him. Click didn’t want to have to try again, especially if he may not have another chance from Her if the hero Click found failed as he had.

Click was drawn to an actor, who had flair and a presence on the set that brought attention to him versus the others. This man handled himself with a cool air of confidence and preciseness that would aid him well in the world of make believe. The longer Click watched the actor on set, the more he believed that this man could be a good candidate. Even more so when Click observed that the man appeared to do well at close quarters parrying and joking prodding with a bamboo cane between takes. This would mesh well with Click’s preferred long-range attack style. He would be able to avoid striking then man should he agree to what would likely sound absurd, especially coming from someone who looked as Click now did.

Most unfortunately, Click didn’t have time to follow the man around outside of the set to be sure of his assumptions; already Click had taken too much time to find someone to bring back with him. So, a few days after observing the man, Click followed the actor home. And once it was clear they were alone, Click made himself known to the man.

Click-click-click.

“I say, where in the dickens did you come from?!” The man practically yelped, putting a chair between himself and the tin soldier that was suddenly just there. He reached a hand to his head, fingers tangling through a short mop of wavy hair. “I’ve gone and hit my head, haven’t I?”

It was a rather entertaining reaction to something inexplicably appearing from out of nowhere when one thought they were all alone.

Click greeted the wary man with a tilt of his fake head, not bothering to explain that his eyes were the six golden buttons on his chest, and three mouths could spilt open along the trailing black decoration between the buttons with sharp teeth.

Later.

If and when it was necessary for this would-be hero before him, should the actor choose to play along.

Click-click-click.

“Is that normal for you to be making that noise?” The man asked. “It doesn’t seem natural, you know. How is it that you’re moving? Is this some kind of new hazing within the studio?”

More chatter than Click had seen from the man when he’d been in the studio, as the actor had mentioned.

No matter.

There wasn’t enough time to pick someone else, now that Click had shown himself to the man. Before the actor could ask even more questions, Click spoke.

“Do you want to be a hero?”

~

Click had regrets.

Many, many regrets, really.

But choosing this current hero?

The biggest regret of Click’s entire life (or death, whichever way one wanted to look at it).

This hero was not who he appeared to be, this hero.

Click should have known better than to choose someone based off how they acted on the job, versus how they acted when eyes were off of them.

This hero was utterly insufferable.

The man ran his mouth ceaselessly, whether or not Click had any answers in-between. Despite wanting nothing more than to hate this hero who had taken on the role Click had held before, this hero was frustratingly capable of getting through dicey situations (at times with intervention from Click himself when the tin soldier deemed it necessary). Click had gotten some grim amusement out of the first time he used his rifle made up of his arm to fire on some Fears that had surrounded himself and his hero.

The hero?

“I say, that was quite a shoot of a surprise.” He just laughed (nervously) and tipped his boater hat to Click in thanks. Then the hero tapped his bamboo cane to the ground alongside the remnants of the Fears shot down. “What good aim, too. Though I don’t suppose we could be a tiny bit more careful about possible ricochets?” The hero lifted his suit coat out to the side to proffer the hole that had gone through the fabric during a dodge.

“I missed you, didn’t I?” Click responded indifferently, as his arm shifted back to an arm, metal hand flexing. “With all of your scrambling about as well, I might add.” Smoke finished curling out from his multiple mouths on his chest, and out the mouth of the fake head. Click’s mouths twisted in ire when the hero came closer, the man not having to stoop to look at Click’s golden button eyes.

“That you did, and for that, I’m grateful.” Swinging the cane up over his shoulder, the hero hummed thoughtfully. “Where did you say we were headed before that interruption?”

“…the Market.”

“I see. And from its name I gather that there are goods to trade and such?” The hero looked around, then turned back to Click, a frown slipping across his face. “Something the matter, Click?”

“Nothing.” The three smiles twisted into cooked smiles when the hero’s eyes studied him closely. “All is well, with the Fears dealt with.”

“If you’re certain…” The hero replied dubiously, staring at the immobile tin soldier’s face, before falling into step alongside him as Click continued on whatever path that apparently would lead them to the Market.

~

This hero made it to the Market after all.

What a surprise.

Click wondered how much longer this hero would last, with the close calls that had been had on the way here. Yet onward they travelled, until something became clearer than ever before that Click felt he’d noticed but hadn’t really paid much heed to.

This hero was a damned coward, the bravado, the confidence a front to hide a crippling fear of inadequacy to fulfill the role of ‘hero’ he had agreed to when he accepted Click’s offer.

But infuriatingly, luck was on the hero’s side, though it was through Click’s weapons and precision at shooting the enemies that helped the hero be that lucky. Click could count a few times where, had he not intervened, the hero would have been overtaken, and fail as Click had failed. This hero would be doomed to be twisted to fit this world’s inhabitants, no longer human, but something else.

Maybe even a monster.

Already the hero had lost his suit coat, the braces over the dress shirt fiddled within an inch of its life. The cane was twirled absently through the dark journey to the market (hitting Click several times; it didn’t hurt, but it was rather irritating).

Click was uncertain how much longer the hero could go on should the tin soldier choose to stop assisting him, stepping in to prevent injury and schisms. But if this hero could get to the end, Click believed that he could cut in last minute to fulfill the role of ‘hero’ that had been denied to him.

Time would tell…except Time wasn't easy to pin down with how often Time moved about.

After a visit for new amour (and surviving the hero’s inane chattering about the logistics of it all), they were off from the relative safety of the Market. The hero would have to last until the end, and it was to be seen if he could manage it without Click’s continued interference, and the knowledge that the hero’s bravado and calm was false.

It was simply too much to deal with, Click decided, coupled with the hero’s incessant chattering that continued on, that led Click to his decision not too far from the safety of the Market. With an excuse of needing to gather more material than intended, Click backtracked to the Market with the unwitting hero.

The hero only realized what was going on when he suddenly noted that he no longer had his guide.

Where had the tin soldier gone?

Onward without him?

From the shadows nearby, Click watched dispassionately as his hero was slowly overwhelmed by Fears and Doubts. Turning away, Click waited until the deed was done. He doubted that there would be much left of the human that had come here to the world of make believe with him.

Click waited, until a shiver ran through him as a shadow loomed over him. Click kept his golden button eyes forward in the dark as he spoke.

“He wasn’t the hero I thought he would be. A coward of an actor who hid behind a grandiose guise and ceaseless chattering like a telly someone left on. His cool and calm demeanor in the face of danger was a lie made manifest here time and time again.”

A twinge of guilt that rose was crushed when Click saw the former hero collapse nearby after being seen to by Her. Seeing as he was in one piece, Click assumed this meant he would be allowed to find another hero, since he was still standing. Click stared down at the former hero, unbothered by the static pleas that rose from the now-television headed monster that lie on the ground near the Market entry, a trembling hand held out toward Click.

The tin solider turned away, abandoning the former hero behind him to whatever fate this world would bestow upon him from that point forward, as there would be no returning to his old life. Click needed an actual hero and not a coward; Click needed who the former hero had been when he was acting.

The next time Click passed through the Market with a new hero, his former hero now went by the name ‘RGB.’ Click avoided him, and told himself that it wasn’t guilt that kept him away from RGB.

It was better that way, for both of them.

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Over the weekend LOCATION: Forzen Yogluck PARTIES: Elias and Regan SUMMARY: After Elias and Regan struck out last time they got froyo, they decided to try one more time. The place got rave reviews!

“Like licking the nightmares of a thousand clowns. 10/10 would question reality again.”

“Tried the chocolate abyss flavor, and now I can see colors that don’t exist. My taste buds are in a constant state of existential crisis. Highly recommended!”

“It reminded me of my childhood, which led me to weep until closing. I’m going back again tomorrow.”

“I tried the Neapolitan, and now I hear the whispers of my ancestors.”

Their last outing had been a mixed success. Regan emerged victorious with a dead rat (and the cat, finally, courtesy of Marcy), but Elias had decided his frozen yogurt was no longer palatable. They needed to fix that. Regan told herself it was her simple desire to see if dead rats were a theme at frozen yogurt shops, but annoyingly, part of her wanted Elias to be able to have some damn froyo. Humans should be allowed simple joys in their short lives. And Elias was a good human. A good person. He deserved a treat. 

Forzen Yogluck looked like an interesting place online as she’d skimmed the reviews, and it was even more interesting in person. The exterior of the shop was painted in a vibrant color that Regan couldn’t describe. It was kind of pink? But also blue, and orange. But not brown. Huh. She squirmed in her long winter coat, which was horribly unseasonable, but she needed to make due without her necklace for now. She turned to Elias to share a nervous glance. Why was the shop eliciting a strange foreboding?

Regan pushed open the door, revealing a space that was both inviting and eerie. The interior of the shop was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting shadows on the walls. The air inside felt heavy, and something about it all made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, like she was cold despite being swaddled up in an arctic-grade coat. The frozen yogurt machines, instead of being neatly aligned in rows, were scattered haphazardly around the room. Some were turned on, churning out frozen treats with a mechanical whir with no one there to collect the puddles of yogurt, while others sat silent and dormant, covered in a layer of frost. Disappointment struck Regan when she realized what was missing. “No rats here.” She mumbled.

As soon as Elias met up with Regan, the first thing that struck him was that she was wearing a long winter coat in the middle of the summer. “Are you uh, sick or something?” He immediately asked her upon walking up to her, pointing to her rather strange choice of outerwear on a July evening. He had been slightly relieved they hadn’t come across any rats on their way there, much to Regan’s dismay he was sure. Maybe if he came across dead things, he should give it to her? He shook his head at his thoughts, no that was way too strange. 

The store itself was a lot to look at, the colors that decorated the exterior of the shop were enough to make anyone experience serious color overload. He couldn’t quite name the color, which he found really bothered him more than it should have. Pink? Orange? Blue? Blinkge. He decided on, all of the above. As Regan gave him a nervous glance, that same feeling hit him too on first staring at the place. “Well, no going back now. I need to know why someone would have an existential crisis over the chocolate abyss flavor.” Elias insisted, and then they were walking in.

Following Regan into the shop, Elias suddenly felt a chill in the air. But it didn’t quite hit him like a temperature chill. It was almost a to the bone chill. A soul chill, if such a thing could exist. Part of him was almost disappointed when Regan uttered out that there were no rats, because he certainly felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to get out of there as soon as they possibly could. But if rats wouldn’t be the answer, he wasn’t sure what would be. “Regan, I’m scared.” He whispered to her, giving her a side-eye before slowly making his way over to the cups. He was almost afraid to touch it, as if the depths itself would open up in the bottom of the cup and swallow him whole. Finally, he picked it up. No swallowing up occurred. Well, that was a good first step. 

Walking over to the machine that was labeled “Chocolate Abyss,” he nervously pulled down the spigot and watched as the dark brown frozen yogurt came out. He found himself pulled closer to the yogurt, as if it whispered unknowable secrets of the universe within them. They called to him, reached out to him in a puzzling tongue! Then he blinked, and it all stopped. He gave out a nervous giggle to himself, unsure what to make of the strange experience.

Pfft. Of course Elias was scared. That was so typical of his kind. Regan shook her head and brushed away his concern with a flick of her hand. “Fear is a useless emotion and should never be indulged. You have nothing to fear while in my presence.” She was a storm, a force of nature, and there was no such thing as an obstacle to a hurricane. But… she was a storm who couldn’t figure out how to get started with her yogurt. The machines had no order to them. How was she supposed to find the death by chocolate? Or even the vanilla? She tailed Elias for now, picking up a cup after he claimed one of his own. 

“Ah. The one you said you wanted.” She could be pleased for him, couldn’t she? Yes, she was pleased. This was good for Elias. But something was off, and he seemed to almost be listening to his yogurt, his ear pressed up to the cup like it was a conch shell discarded by the waves on a beach. “What are you hearing?” She asked. “Cows?” He seemed to shake out of it just as quickly though, leaving Regan confused. She tilted her head and gave him a small nudge to check his mental status. “Hello?”

“Have you noticed there’s… no one here?” Regan asked him, looking from machine to machine, trying to find any hint of a place where they were supposed to pay. Her grip on the empty cup in her hands grew tighter, and she knew she needed to do something with it lest she never make a choice at all. She found a machine in the middle of the store labeled “Midnight Morgue” and decided that was about as fitting as anything was going to get. As she held the button down, dark purple froyo came squirting out of the machine, and the harsh scent of formalin hit her nose. Familiar and pleasant, but strange and unexpected here.

“PAYMENT IS DUE.” A deep voice boomed from nowhere, yet everywhere. Regan hadn’t even tried her froyo yet, and now her spoon was frozen in her hand as she tried to understand the voice. It rattled her mind and made her whole body coil up tight. “Where did that come from?” She glanced at Elias, who was probably equally perplexed. It returned, even louder. “WHAT WILL YOU OFFER?”

Elias took a second to recover from the whispering, blinking a few times after Regan had poked at him to get his attention. It grounded him, if only a little bit. He turned toward her, nodding his head as he frowned. “I swear that the yogurt…” what was he going to say? That it was whispering to him? No, not a chance. “Never mind.” He amended, narrowing his eyes at what he now saw as nefarious froyo. He looked around the room filled with haphazardly placed yogurt machines, not sure what to make of the whole experience. He didn’t see any topping bar, which kind of bummed him out. How else would he load up his sunday like he was ten years old? Oh well, he thought to himself with a shrug. 

He watched as Regan walked over to a machine, selecting her own flavor. It smelled like… hm. Strange. He decided not to think too far into what it smelled like. He opened his mouth to make a joke about how she chose the death flavor, but then the voice boomed over them. It came from nowhere, but yet it echoed through him like it was all around him. He immediately hated it. 

When she asked where it had come from, he simply shrugged his shoulders while shaking his head, having no idea. “WHAT WILL YOU OFFER?” The voice asked again, and Elias began to dig through his pockets, pulling out a ten dollar bill. “Money can be exchanged for goods and services…” he quoted, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Where are you?” He then asked the voice, turning himself around to come face to face with a hooded figure, darkness where his eyes should be. He jumped a mile out of his skin at the sight. 

The hooded figure wore a long, deep blue cloak with golden embellishments, and thin, gangly fingers clasped together in front of him. “What…” the being began to say again, “will you offer?” The hooded figure turned their attention to Regan, tilting their head to the side with a cracking of his neck. A chill ran through Elias at the sound, and he took a step backward, closer to Regan. “I’m starting to understand that existential dread that person talked about,” he whispered toward her.

It was a good thing Regan was wearing her ungainly winter coat because the mysterious figure who appeared seemingly out of nowhere made a fierce chill jump between her vertebrae. Elias seemed shaken too. Actually, if he jumped any higher he probably would have hit the ceiling. But… she looked up, expecting to see a ceiling at all, and there was only an expanse of darkness. They really needed better lighting up there. She could barely discern the face of whoever was under that robe. “Strange choice of uniform.” She remarked to Elias, not caring that the figure heard the comment.

Now that the figure was close, his voice was different – gone was the commanding boom and in its place was a scratchy and sinister croak that managed to elicit the same crawling feeling. And he seemed to be speaking to her directly. “I–” She sunk her hands into the puffy pockets of her coat. There was a chapstick in there from last winter, and a couple of tissues. Aside from money, which he didn’t seem to want, Regan didn’t have much of anything. But – oh. There it was, a small tickling against her fingertips as they brushed over something precious. Her hand emerged with a couple of tiny, delicate rib bones. “I believe these to be from a shrew.” She explained, offering them on her palm, and sparing Elias a quick glance to see if he enjoyed seeing them. “Will this suffice? I would prefer it to cash, too. I understand.” She didn’t want to part with them, but if someone valued the bones more than money, she trusted that they would be appreciated and well looked after. 

“Yes, yesss.” The man extended his spindly fingers and plucked the ribs from Regan’s hand. A chill rolled through her. He brought the ribs to his face and seemed to be giving them a careful examination, maybe assessing for something, though Regan still couldn’t see what he truly looked like. Then, the bones disappeared. And she heard a crunch. And a second crunch. Her heart felt like it had been devoured along with the ribs, mouth dropped open in shock. “You– but those– did you just–” The hooded figure turned back to Elias, and seemed almost… pleased. “That was her payment. What do you have for me?” His long fingers combed over Elias’s hand, and he had that assessing look about him once more. “That’s a nice pinky.”

Elias swallowed as the man took the bones from Regan as if it were the correct answer to give. He didn’t have bones on him, what the hell was he supposed to do? “So you don’t take money, then.” He spoke dumbly. The hooded figure simply stared at him, long finger continuing to pet his hand. “Listen, I really like my pinky and would hate to lose it.” He replied with a face that read ‘please leave me alone, for the love of God leave me alone.’ He rubbed his free hand over his face, then began to rifle through his pocket. “I’ve got my wallet that has money in it,” he spoke, really hoping the guy would finally just take his money. “I’ve got my phone, a pack of gum…” He looked to Regan, beginning to panic that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this without losing a finger. 

Then, he remembered what he had picked up on his way to meet Regan here. Some bone from an animal he’d seen on his hike earlier. He had planned to give it to her, but figured if this dude liked bones, this was a good chance to get him to leave his bones on his body. “I have this!” He then exclaimed, holding out the animal humerus to the man. Long, slender fingers stretched outward toward the bone, inspecting it for a long moment before bowing his head slowly. “Payment has been accepted.” He spoke, taking a step backward, no more like he floated backward. 

Elias finally took a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding, chancing a glance over to Regan with a weirded-out expression. “Do you think he’ll let us leave?” He asked her, afraid to try to leave with his ice cream. He suddenly found that he was terrified to even eat the frozen yogurt he held in his hand. If the guy that worked here unsettled him that much, then he couldn’t imagine what the frozen treat would do. “Well I mean… I bought it.” He mumbled to himself, as if trying to reason with himself about why he should just go ahead and eat it. 

The man under the robe hemmed and hawed for a moment, a long drawn out hmmmmmmmm as he appraised the bone Elias had handed him. That had surprised Regan, and she jolted up when he showed it off. Elias had a bone? Good for him! But he didn’t have it anymore. There was another crunch from beneath the hood and once more Regan’s heart sank below her knees. It sounded so much like chewing. “Hey, wait. What did you do to the–” But darkness clouded the shop, a thick black like the bottom of the ocean, and as it cleared away as quickly as it came, there was no one left standing there. Just her and Elias and two cups of frozen yogurt that were paid for in bones. Bones that might have just been unceremoniously eaten by a disrespectful– “I, um, think he went out the back… maybe…” She shot a glance behind the counter but there was actually no staff door there.

She was starting to think there was something off about this place.

“We should, uh, eat the yogurt. And leave. I think. I mean, you did buy it.” Regan agreed, staring down at her own purple swirls. They still smelled strongly of formaldehyde, and for a second, she thought there was a black mist hovering over her frozen yogurt, like the one that had clouded the hooded figure before he’d vanished. Well, she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. “Let’s try them together.” Regan spooned up a bit of the frozen yogurt and scrutinized it. Nothing suspect about its appearance other than its deep purple color. Slowly, she lifted it to her mouth and let the coolness come over her; kind of refreshing given how hot she was underneath the coat. But she paused, recognizing something about the yogurt. “This tastes like… decomposition?” She hesitated, staring down at the rest of the frozen yogurt. Then ate another spoonful. “Hm. Do you want some?”

She turned to Elias as he seemed to be investigating his own yogurt. “So… want to tell me why you had that humerus?” Regan raised a brow. “I thought you didn’t care for bones. That was most certainly a bone, and it was in your pocket.” 

Elias continued to look down at his chocolate abyss yogurt, hesitant before he finally took a bite. Tasted like chocolate. He blinked, and he saw a great, terrible citadel bathed in darkness, and a single figure with tentacles and a thousand eyes. He opened his eyes, and it was gone. He frowned. Blinking again, and the figure had moved closer toward him, tentacles stretching out to envelop him in– alright, he’s not blinking anymore. Unblinking, he looked over to Regan. “I uh… may or may not have picked it up to give to you.” He explained awkwardly, shifting his eyes to look away then back to her, really trying not to blink.

Finally, he had to blink. His eyes were dry and hurting. The tentacles were back, they were covering everything in his vision and his body felt as if it was being constricted. He gasped and opened his eyes, and the feeling went away. Not wanting to experience the sensation anymore, Elias simply dropped the yogurt cup onto an empty table and shook his head. “This place is…” he didn’t have words for it. How do you explain that you’re being constricted by a tentacle monster every time he blinks?

“I think my ice cream is bad.” He said simply, making a face. “Once you’re done we can leave, yeah?” He blinked again, and the feeling of being squeezed returned, a dark and evil laughter filling his head. He opened his eyes once more, gasping for air. “Something’s really wrong with that ice cream.” He whined out, wrapping his arms around himself, the sensation of being wrung out like a wet rag remaining.

Regan tilted her head, lost in thought for a moment. The taste of decomposition was a thick coating in her mouth but Elias’s sentiment was sweeter still. “To give to me?” Her lip trembled, daring her to smile, but she would not. “That’s very kind of you. It seemed like a nice specimen. I would have appreciated it, but it’s not your fault that it needed to become currency.”

Nothing was really going right here. “I thought maybe this time you would be able to engage in a positive frozen yogurt experience.” Two strikes, then. Her frown deepened. She was about to simply suggest that he discard the frozen yogurt, but something wasn’t… right. Elias looked almost sickly as a pallor gripped his face and he hunched over, as if tormented by something unseen. Regan narrowed her eyes. What was happening? What was he reacting to? Was it really just the froyo? Regan approached Elias slowly, as if she might frighten him away, and looked the long way up into his eyes. “Elias? What is it? Are you… are you alright?” 

Concern, disgusting concern, tainted her voice. She scrunched up her nose and looked away, though not without purpose. She would see what Elias could not. Regan called upon the asfís bháis. She glanced around the shop, and it didn’t take long for something to jump out. 

Everything was covered in eerie, dark waves, like a black tide was lapping through the shop. She couldn’t feel any death, so what was this? She stared at the waves, trying to make more sense of them, and an inky tentacle breached from their crests, first one, then dozens, squiggling out from the abyss and about to converge right on – “No!” Regan shouted, grabbing Elias’s shoulder, and forced her vision back to normal. Her slow heart pounded against her sternum and she looked to Elias after blinking away the black. “There was – I thought I saw – they’re after you. Come on. We’re leaving.” Panting. She was panting, practically out of breath. Pathetic. Regan tucked her hair behind her ear, realizing how clammy her forehead became in just the last second. “Move it.” She pushed on his shoulder.

Surprised at Regan’s concern, Elias looked up at her with wide eyes. That was a new one. “I can’t blink.” He tried to explain, squinting his eyes to combat the fatigue they started to feel the longer he kept them open. Then, he was being grabbed at. “Okay, okay we’re leaving, alright.” He responded, making toward the exit. He blinked again, he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, the squeezing was back. He let out a pained cry, forcing himself out the door of the shop, hoping that leaving the threshold of the place would sever whatever the fuck was happening to him. It didn’t make sense, but he had an instinctual feeling that leaving the building would help him. 

Once outside the shop, he blinked again, nothing. He then turned to Regan, brows knit together in deep confusion. “What the fuck just happened?” He wondered aloud, knowing that she wouldn’t have a better answer to give him. “It felt like… like I was being constricted.” He tried to explain, squeezing his hands into fists to illustrate the sensation. “And I saw a… a giant creature with tentacles and… and a citadel!” He exclaimed, staring back to the building, the windows were now pitch black, as if the shop were closed. It gave him an eerie feeling, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“I think I’m swearing off frozen yogurt forever,” he decided with a worried expression. “Or I’m leaving town for it.” He then added, frowning. “Between you seeing weird skeletons stealing bones and me experiencing otherworldly horrors that looked suspiciously like Cthulu…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m never bored here. That’s for sure.” He looked back to the yogurt shop one more time, frown deepening. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Regan did not like the sound Elias made. Or the confused, tormented look on his face, like he just crawled out of a pit full of vipers. Or saw something much worse. She shuddered, thinking of the tentacles. If she summoned her vision back, would she see them even now, coiling around him? “I, um…” She didn’t know what to say as they pushed through the door. Fresh air never felt so good. “I saw tentacles. Around you. You’re not, uh… crazy.” A citadel, though? What did that even mean? Regan shook her head, wanting to shake away the memory of Forzen Yogluck with it. 

“Are you intact?” She asked him, casting a cautious eye toward Elias from head to toe. He looked more or less okay. Traumatized. Sweaty. But physically unharmed. He said he felt like he was being suffocated. “How is your breathing?”

The thank you churned in Regan’s stomach more than the Midnight Morgue. Accepting it was out of the question. That made her wonder if Elias was deeply in debt to those he worked with at the bar. He clearly wasn’t watching his words. Or he trusted her. Which was even more disturbing. “I warned you against saying that.”

She couldn’t blame Elias for never wanting frozen yogurt again. She was just about to swear off of it herself, though she could still taste the decomp on her lips. And it was comfortingly familiar. “Maybe next time we should get ordinary yogurt. At an ordinary yogurt shop. Refrigerated, not frozen.” She paused, realizing just what she had said – what next time meant. And the way she’d ushered him out. And even now, checking on him. Her chest squeezed, her lungs along with it, and it felt like a warning. “I mean, um, I might as well. If I’m already out looking for rats. And you happen to be there.” She cleared her throat, eyes searching left and right for somewhere they could escape to. No, she needed to escape. Regan started dashing away, calling out an excuse. “Speaking of, I must go find… rats. Urgently. Away from here. No thank you. Stay away from strange citadels. Call me if you think you’re dying. Goodbye!”

[soulfulempathy]

Brother of Mine - A Drabble

As blood pooled around him, its source a deep stab wound in his stomach, Yuki lay motionless on the concrete. It sounded so cliche, but he felt cold. With each passing second, he could feel his body shutting down. First his fingertips, then his arms, his legs. Each breath was getting slower and slower. Black encroached on the corners of his vision, threatening to take him over.

Eventually, without meaning to, Yuki’s eyes closed.

When they opened, there was no pain. There was feeling in his body again, and his hands touched where the wound used to be on his stomach. He was alone. When he finally looked at his surroundings, though, he felt his heart stop.

It was clean except for some toys, a game console and controllers on the floor, in front of a big, boxy TV. Pictures everywhere in pretty frames. A blue couch with two decorative pillows sitting on each end. Yuki crossed the room carefully, as if everything would turn to dust if he moved too fast, and picked up a picture of his family.

This was the living room in his childhood home.

“That was Mom’s favorite, right?”

Yuki jumped and whirled around. And when he saw a tall teenage boy, with dark hair and warm brown eyes, smiling at him, Yuki lost his grip on the picture.

In a flash, his brother was there to catch it.

“Careful,” Mamoru chided playfully. “You always were clumsy.”

Yuki’s eyes burned as he stared. “Mamoru?” he asked, his voice breaking.

Mamoru reached out to put a hand on Yuki’s shoulder, and in turn Yuki’s eyes closed, not fast enough to catch the tears that fell. He could feel it. The warmth of his brother’s hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture he’d done a thousand times.

Mamoru didn’t say anything for a moment. His smile was gone when Yuki opened his eyes again, replaced by a concerned frown.

“How many times are you going to do this?”

Yuki blinked. “What?”

Mamoru gave him a look. “You don’t value your life, Yuki. Why?”

The question hit him hard. Yuki didn’t bother to wipe his tears away. He was standing in front of the one person he could never hide from, after all.

“…I don’t have anyone,” Yuki finally admitted. “I lost you, and everyone else. I’m just…existing.”

Mamoru tsked. “Impatient, as always,” he said, squeezing Yuki’s shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking. You can’t reach Isen, so you want to see us instead.”

Yuki grit his teeth at the mention of Isen. “Is that so bad?”

“Yes, my idiot brother. You have no idea who’s waiting for you. They’re counting on your survival, Yuki. Do you think we want to see you throw your life away?”

“I…”

Mamoru rested his other hand on Yuki’s opposite shoulder, looking him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to have to come kick your ass,” he said. “You’re not allowed to give up, and you’re not allowed to let Isen kill you. Understand?”

Yuki swallowed and nodded slowly. “…Who is waiting for me?”

Mamoru smiled, and Yuki felt his heart twist painfully. “Why ruin the surprise?” He released Yuki and stepped back.

“Make us proud, Yuki.”

“Wait—“ Yuki reached out. “Please don’t leave.”

“Clear!”

Yuki gasped awake, two paramedics above him. One of them held a defibrillator, and the other kept Yuki from trying to move.

“Breathe, you’re okay,” said the paramedic. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Yuki,” he croaked. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst out of his chest. He was being maneuvered onto a stretcher now.

Over the paramedic’s shoulder, he saw his brother smile at him and walk away.

Happy birthday, Mamoru.

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

This is a drabble from a story that I think I might want to flesh out into more. I have an idea where I could take it. I always really enjoy when stories give bits of the older characters still in high school. Seeing the dynamics play out before they became our beloved fruity four.  I’m open to any constructive criticism or suggestions anyone is willing to offer.    It was a stupid wish, something so cliché and absurd that she couldn’t even believe it had crossed her mind. There would be no reality with it being true. No one could hear the thoughts spiraling through her mind. Still she continued to kick herself for it. How much easier life would be if she could have just been a boy. What would she be like? Would the lack of experiences she’d had as a woman change her? Morphing her into an almost unrecognizable form. Would she be just like Steve Harrington? A boy who in the eyes of the people of Hawkins could do no wrong. Praised for his mistakes, rewarded for anything that could be argued provided growth to his person. No one seemed immune to his charms. Age was just a number. Sexuality didn’t seem to exist. It was entirely frustrating. An airheaded pretty boy with the world at his fingertips, capable of stranger things than anyone might ever believe. What gave him such power? How did he do it? Command enough favor to leave even the brightest, most bold and independent women swooning. This had nothing to do with her crush on Nancy Wheeler. Crush? Wait no… No, she had no crush on the Queen of Hawkins herself. Robin understood her place in the world, a wallflower that offered the illusion of people. A supposed faithful servant to those who ran the town. Nancy Wheeler. She sat only a space over from Robin in their English class, close enough that Robin could smell her perfume. Warm vanilla. Not the cheap vanilla that Robin could grab a bottle of at Melvalds. - No matter how she knew that information or that she knew Nancy’s signature scent was one of Coco Mademoiselle from the Chanel counter.- She definitely hadn’t considered spending the outrageous price tag on the bottle just so she could drown herself in it at home. So all of this might have been because she liked ms. unattainable. There was no point in admitting it to herself. Nancy was happily making heart eyes at the jerk, Steve, the happy couple going on a year at the end of the month. It was wrong to be so jealous. Not only did she have no shot in hell, but Steve actually seemed to make an effort for his and Nancy’s relationship. There were rumors that he was going to decorate the halls for their big day. Recruiting the art hall to create the decorations that would be hung to broadcast their year together. She was surprised he hadn’t come to recruit the band to play songs to serenade her highness as she graced the hallway Friday morning. Steve had been making his rounds through the school to set up his plans. She swears she even saw him talking to Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson the other day. If involved him, it must have been huge. The King dawning the door of the theater closet where Hellfire was held. Practically unheard of. Eddie had a thing for Steve almost as bad as she had it for Nancy. The two of them never properly spoke, Robin and Eddie, but she could just tell by the way Eddie looked at him. Eddie only dealt with the likes of Tommy Hagan and the rest of Steve’s friends, supplying the goods for their parties, because it earned him the presence of Steve. That cursed Harrington charm… Why couldn’t she just have a little piece of that? Robin loved being a girl for everything except it being the key piece that ensured she’d remain single forever. Girls loving other girls just wasn’t allowed in this holier than thou town. She’d be the town pariah for something she couldn’t control. Cast out to be ridiculed and harassed, disowned from her parents. Wishing she was straight… that she liked men instead of women. It gave her a sour taste in her mouth. Who she was interested in wasn’t the issue. She felt no shame in her sexuality. Sometimes she just wondered how much easier her life would be as a male. Robin knew she wasn’t the problem, but changing herself still felt easier than changing the minds of those around her. She just wanted a chance to live to the fullest extent, and just not feel like she was supposed to be hiding.

[inkytrails01]

The Ultimate Guide to Gratitude Journaling with Inkytrails

Gratitude journaling is more than just jotting down a few good things that happen during your day. It’s a transformative practice that fosters positivity, enhances mental well-being, and cultivates mindfulness. With premium gratitude journals from Inkytrails, you can elevate this experience, creating a space to reflect, grow, and thrive.

Why Start a Gratitude Journal?

Life’s fast pace often makes it easy to overlook the small joys and blessings around us. A gratitude journal serves as a gentle reminder to pause and appreciate life’s little wonders. Here are some benefits:

Boosts Positivity: Regularly recording moments of gratitude helps rewire your brain to focus on the positive aspects of life.

Reduces Stress: Taking a few minutes each day to reflect can lower stress levels and foster a sense of calm.

Enhances Mindfulness: Gratitude journaling keeps you present, allowing you to savor each moment.

Improves Relationships: Recognizing and appreciating the good in people strengthens bonds and builds meaningful connections.

How to Start Gratitude Journaling

Starting your gratitude journaling journey is simple, especially with Inkytrails premium gratitude journals. Follow these easy steps:

1. Choose the Right Journal

Select a journal that inspires you. Inkytrails offers beautifully designed premium gratitude journals with thoughtful prompts and ample space to pen your thoughts. The right journal can make the experience more engaging and personal.

2. Set Aside Time

Dedicate a specific time each day for journaling, whether it’s in the morning to set a positive tone for the day or at night to reflect on your achievements.

3. Start Small

Write three things you’re grateful for each day. They don’t have to be grand; even simple moments, like enjoying a cup of coffee or receiving a kind word, count.

4. Be Specific

Instead of general statements, be detailed. For example, write “I’m grateful for the sunny weather that allowed me to take a peaceful walk” rather than just “I’m grateful for the weather.”

5. Reflect and Review

Revisit your past entries regularly. It’s a great way to see how much you’ve grown and to relive positive experiences.

Why Choose Inkytrails Premium Gratitude Journals?

Inkytrails is dedicated to creating premium stationery that blends functionality with elegance. Here’s why their gratitude journals stand out:

Thoughtful Design: Crafted with high-quality materials, these journals offer a luxurious feel and durability.

Guided Prompts: Each page includes prompts to help you focus and dive deeper into your reflections.

Ample Space: Designed to accommodate your daily entries, no matter how detailed you want to be.

Eco-Friendly: Inkytrails journals are made with sustainable materials, so you can practice gratitude while being kind to the planet.

Tips for Staying Consistent

Make It a Habit: Link journaling to an existing routine, like your morning coffee or bedtime ritual.

Create a Gratitude Corner: Dedicate a quiet, cozy spot in your home for journaling.

Personalize Your Journal: Add stickers, doodles, or other decorations to make it uniquely yours.

Use Prompts: Stuck on what to write? Use prompts like “What made me smile today?” or “Who’s someone I’m thankful for and why?”

Conclusion

Gratitude journaling is a simple yet powerful practice that can transform your outlook on life. With Inkytrails premium gratitude journals, you’ll have the perfect companion to embark on this journey. Whether you’re a beginner or looking to deepen your practice, Inkytrails offers tools to help you express your gratitude meaningfully.

Start your gratitude journey today with Inkytrails, and experience the joy of appreciating life’s blessings, one entry at a time.

[dailytatsu]

Hello! I saw request were open so i was wondering if i could request some headcanons of the Archons and/or the Adepti meeting a God reader who is the God of Chaos and destruction. The reader is not a Archon tho and travels all over Teyvat cuz small bits of destruction were ever they go. They're pretty mischievous and somewhat smug but despite how they act they're actually a good person. They dont mean to cause problems(most of the time anyways) chaos follows them were ever they go. Idk if you have a character limit but if you do please tell me so i wont make a mistake again. And if there is you can just do Zhongli and Xiao. Optionally could you make them a dendro user, there not a lot of dendro content and if not thats fine. I understand. Could you make the reader Gn or Non-binary they/them pronouns please? If not male reader is totally fine. Im so sorry for the long post and I hope you have a good day/night!

Ohmy, it’s my first time just writing headcanons! I’m use to write a lot, so let’s hope I did it right (^ ^' )7

Thanks for the request! ✨

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

[HC] God of Chaos! Reader and the Archons + Xiao

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Venti, Shogun Raiden (Ei).

Gn! Reader

I tried doing it with everyone but I’m no still that confident to try writing with some characters ＿|￣|○

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

Second part ->

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

VENTI

To be honest, he didn't notice your presence at first. He had other concerns on his mind that day to perceive the chaotic (and slightly threatening) aura that Mondstadt was infected with that day.

Barbatos is a person of habit, so he couldn't help but be curious when the crowd in front of him began to look a little agitated instead of seeming to enjoy his lyre and his songs.

But then a series of domino events appeared in front of his very eyes.

The purity of the chaos was such that he felt overwhelmed, even without the white-haired boy around, if it wasn’t Bennett fault, then how was it possible for everything to be ruined in such a short time?

His patience ended when, out of nowhere, the strings of his lyre jumped close to his face as they snapped. Making that awful noise that couldn’t mean nothing good.

Okay, enough, who is messing around in here? No more joking in his nation!

He concentrated a little, a faint but unique presence kept his nerves on edge, as if he was being watched from afar. He moved away from the busy areas and then chased that ephemeral energy to the highest point of the church, where the bells were ringing in an irregular and stressful way.

Then he found you. Snoozing against one of the columns, somewhat tired because the trip you made to reach Mondstadt.

Surprisingly, Barbatos understood you since the first exchange of words. A god of chaos who was also a free spirit, you followed no rules ever written in Teyvat, and you had no plans to apologize for the mess you made.

Both of you were Zhongli’s worst nightmare, but that’s another story.

He managed to through your arrogance and your teasing nature that you, in fact, were a lonely spirit that liked to witness the life from above of everyone.

The difference between teasing someone accidentally and committing a crime was really visible, but he still couldn't help but feel like he should scold you after your mere presence messed up with the guild's baskets full of fish.

But hey! He also enjoy the company! Venti tried to teach you how to enjoy the calm and the whisper of wind, music can also contain chaos, feelings, old stories waiting to be told again, expressions and desire united, in a wonderful piece of-

As you yawned his lyre broke up again. Making clear the message.

Okay, not even God of Freedom and Wind can control chaos. Anyways, what a tragedy, but there’s nothing a simple bard can do, smh.

“Do you like kids, don’t you?” He said once, after a nice day of hearing him sing before your chaos reached his little concert. Again watching everyone from above on the hands of the statue, with your attention caught by some kids playing tag.

“… I don’t know what do you mean.” Once discovered you had no choice but to remain defensive, pretending to be disinterested.

“Heh, you aren’t a good liar.” It may not be the wisest thing to make fun of someone who could destroy the place where you were resting, but Venti was confident that he knew you well enough to know that you were not so explosive. “You know!, I just have some pieces, but I think it’s because they are little walking concentrations of pure and innocent chaos, am I wrong?”

He wasn’t, no at all. But you would never confess something that embarrassing.

This guy wrote a ballad about the days when Mondstadt got immerse with that strike of bad luck. Kind of an apology of not being able to handle the situation.

Now there’s the rumor that says that, every time somebody sings that song, something unlucky will happen in front of you.

The song is cursed.

One night when the moon was shining on the Cider Lake his well tuned ears distinguished a melody that was broken from time to time by the accidents of his performer, distracting him of his way to look for you.

It could be painful to listen to, but Venti could certainly feel the dedication of the one who was playing the imperfect song.

The ballad of the god of chaos, hummed like a lullaby that instead of making you sleep makes you question the events of the day. Wishing for the slightest thing to be different after an exhaustive week of peace and tranquility.

A lonely spirits cursing their existence, sitting in the highest point of a stranger’s palace, where you can reach the sky by only rising your hand.

The next day, Barbatos invited you to drink some wine, this time near Windrise to avoid accidents in the city.

As he almost dropped the bottle when a lot of slimes were attracted by your presence, he confirmed the theory about that the way to spend time with you would not be his personal definition of hanging out.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

ZHONGLI

Okay, there’s only two scenarios that could happened when you set a foot in Liyue.

Old man has a soft spot for you for being a relative young deity.

Or he’s always lecturing you for not having control of your aura and powers.

How u dare bringing chaos to the nation of order? It’s that a death wish?

Jokes aside, you’re not really a threat. And he could sense that after he saw how you tried to avoid having direct contact with the city. Rex Lapis found your silhouette jumping and crossing through the mountains until reaching the fairest point that allowed you to enjoy the view of the streets that were filled with life and light as the sunsets.

He even noticed how you sighed in frustration when a storm started out of nowhere. A rain dedicated just for the arriving of the God of Chaos. Not even bothering of getting shield, you stayed in your place to look at all the people who were getting back to their places.

The rain seemed to stop over your head, for a second was enough to stop you from being cruelly swamped by the very weather you had created. An elegant umbrella covered you, the long awaited surprise you expected from someone as outdated as Morax.

You looked up, and found his expression calm and attentive, watching you. As if he had made a great discovery that he could not believe

“May I have a moment of your time to keep you company? Letting out your sorrows in the middle of a torrential storm is not what I would recommend as way to spend a good day.”

“… What are you talking about? Get in your own business, old man.”

“Well, you should know that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.”

Next time you knew was that he was helping you to dry your hair with a towel once you let him guide you to his place.

Zhongli picked you up like a abandoned cat that day. Even if having you near meant to deal with new the roof leaks.

Also kept you away from Hu Tao, if you two ever get along for being partners in crime he would seal himself underground-

For all the time you spend exploring Liyue, there he was. Like a little kid showing his treasures. But also like a worried father looking after his child for them not to stumble making their first steps.

Look at you! Almost crushing those Treasure Hoarders when a bunch of rocks fell down after you jumped at the edge of the cliff.

Wait, no- come back here! You should verify the surroundings and be aware of the weight of your power if you’re going to explore in that bold way. You, chaotic brat.

Another one who believed fervently that your mood was to blame for the constant chaos you caused. He also tried to show you the wonders of peace and calm, teaching you how to prepare tea while listening to the storyteller (also both being a little far away from the rest of them, just in case).

He couldn’t help but sigh when the teapot arm broke as soon as you tried to serve the tea. What a waste, he thought.

You apologized to him, kind of stressed with yourself after you took all the pieces with your bare hands to run away with them. Leaving a confused Zhongli behind.

Next day you were back, with the teapot repaired and just like new.

He let out a lot of thankful words, some flattering and a lot more cheesy things that you never had received before.

With that unexpected affection you couldn’t help but react flustered; then a cat that was chasing a bird jumped through a lot of decorations and merchandise, almost starting a fire as the chained events kept going.

Yeah,, uh, Zhongli got some useful mental notes about you and your chaos that day.

Hey, before you go, want to make a contract? You won’t regret it!

But as the wandering spirit you were you had no problems in reject his offer, but also promising that you would visit Liyue if he wanted you to.

Of course he wanted! But.. maybe next time you should stay in Huaguang Stone Forest instead of roaming near the city,,

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

XIAO

Tried to kill you.

I mean, your aura is threatening and full of a destructive energy, how is possible that you weren’t a demon to eradicate??

Sorry, but he had a point.

Your first met was on your way to reach Huaguang Stone Forest along with Zhongli for introduce you with the Adeptus.

Xiao, in the other side, thought that you were about to attack Morax from behind, so he just struck against you. With his polearm near to go through your chest, just stopped because you felt him before.

Lifting your hand at his direction, summoning chaos, this time, on purpose. The wind gained a wrathful nature and the biggest roots that were hiding under his feet rose to caught him.

And when you were about to hit each other Zhongli’s shield appeared just in time to separate both of you. Preventing a real catastrophic event.

Now stop fighting and introduce to each other.

Nice(n’t) to meet u.

What if you tried to awake Azhdaha to bring chaos and destruction to Liyue? What if you wanted to summoned Osial? What if… ?

Zhongli had to confirm and promise to him that those cruel possibilities won’t be a near future for respecting the real reason of your travel.

No matter if he wasn’t comfortable with your presence, it wasn’t his decision to allow you to roam freely, so he had to get use to it.

He immediately knew after hearing about your nature that was your fault that lately there were a lot more demons and monsters. Even his karma was getting more painful than usual.

(If you ever meet Hu Tao, please think twice before doing Xiao a prank)

You both didn’t interact a lot, and being honest, it was better that way.

He hadn’t a single intention of talking with you again until the day you were practicing the song that your Anemo friend taught you. By the other hand, Xiao noticed that the melody had the same nature as the one he once heard before being consumed by the karma.

It wasn’t a flute, but a worn lyre that was still in one piece after weeks of being repaired again and again.

“That song… ”

“Do you know it?” Xiao just nodded, staying in silence, being your very first audience even if you still have a lot to learn about playing a lyre.

It wasn’t as effective as the original, but was still… nice, kind of nostalgic.

Next morning, the Yaksha called for you. Made you stay still in the middle of a plain and then he disappeared of your sight.

He abandoned y- wait, what’s that? Why those monsters has that weird dark aura?

You were about to defend yourself until Xiao appeared back just in time to defeat them.

That day you became his personal bait for demons and monsters. Naturally you attracted chaos, so anyway you were, there will be also something to fight.

I guess this is your way to pay for all the troubles you made for him and his duty, so no complaining about it.

If you ask for a unexpected experience to Ganyu she would said that once she found both of you fighting along against the catastrophe, looking after each other’s back and almost having a perfect synchrony.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

SHOGUN RAIDEN; EI

Also tried to kill you.

Well, the puppet tried to.

And then Ei tried when you had the opportunity of facing her.

But since killing a god just mean the releasing of a lot, pure, energy she couldn’t afford that risk, much less considering your “speciality”.

Who knows what would happen to Inazuma if your vital energy burst across the nation. Just like that old story about Sal Terrae and their goddess.

She just defeated you. Letting you rest and recovering in the midst of the plane of her reality within her mind. Your inert body in the middle of the battlefield as she kept meditating.

When you woke up she ignored your presence, but also denying your complaints about letting you go out back.

In her words, you were a burden, another enemy of eternity. Something as unpredictable as you and your “accidents” couldn’t get along with her utopia.

Ei could banish you from Inazuma, but she knows your type. Stubborn and not accepting the most simple orders to obey.

She knew that you would found a way to be back.

It’s better like this.

And in the hypothetical case of you being freed when she trapped the traveler (kicking you out) and then having a chance to see her again after the end of the war, then things would be somewhat different.

There’s not that much of civilization on some islands, so she allowed you to explore as much as your heart wanted. But if something serious happen, she promised that would end her work in the middle of the sea so your remains never be found.

Okay, message clear. Just do chaos near monsters and bandits, got it,,

Even if she wanted to spend some time with you and telling you some stories about Inazuma and other gods she couldn’t found the right time to call you at her presence.

As the current ruler of Inazuma she was busier than the rest of Archons you have meet. Maybe just some letters now and then like a way to keep a logbook, but not really a face to face talk.

Until she got the opportunity of a day off, just to found you messing around near some ruins. Trying to solve a puzzle before your speciality strikes in. The structure fell down after your fingertips reached the stone.

When the dust dissipated, you discovered her figure judging you from the other side of the remain ruins.

Give her a good reason for not errase you from the map, I dare u.

You felt the worst was about to come when Ei ordered you to follow her after a long sigh. Crossing her arms and starting to walk away from the bunch of old and worn rock.

Plot Twist, she actually invited you to rest under a tree, asking in her serene voice the reason for your journey and your origin. In such a direct way that it seemed more like a sentence than a talk to get to know each other better.

You answered what you could remember and then the silence stayed like the only way of interaction between you two.

Ohno, you know this pattern. Something’s about to happen-

“There is some strange beauty in the chaos, it may be the calm after the storm, but the catastrophe itself is seen as a necessary evil to appreciate the stillness. How much it would last until the lighting hit the valley?”

“So I arrived to keep order between the humans?”

Well yes, but actually no.

“… You see, if there is nothing but order and a lack of problems, mortals are likely to create them on their own. Their minds feels the need to be tested, to prove their worth, so I guess some of your chaos may be part of the history.”

“… then shall we take a walk in Inazuma?” You did not know if you were right, but you thought you saw a faint smile through his lips in the same way that lightning can be seen in the sky.

“I’ll allow it.” She said.

Her only condition was for you not to approach the huge boxes of fireworks down the street.

[maroonfairycherry]

I wish that transness wasn’t reduced to a “feeling” by white people

pre colonization 2spirit elders would help guide you to figure out your gender/ sexuality and your role in your community and what that meant to you, boundaries existed so that the nuances of gender diversity were always respected by the community , no-op was a lot more common back than because people knew themselves better, and If you didn’t have integrity and were just changing gender / gender roles for all the wrong reasons there was someone there to Correct you. NOT enable you.

NOW white trans people think that preferring the opposite white supremacist gender role is a good enough reason to IMPULSIVELY multilate your body and they often times regret it in the end and make a go-fund-mes guilting people into co-signing their self hatred and instead of doing anything to work on their psyche/personalit, they encourage others even more vulnerable than them to do the same; I’m so SICK of qu*er theory and toxic trans ideologies being so pervasive that they’ve now infiltrated indigenous spaces!!!!!! detransitioning shouldn’t be as common as it is but it’s the reality in a society that hyper fixates on “feelings” rather than honoring who you really are, it’s an obvious indicator of how people in western society habitually care more about how they’re PERCEIVED over unabashedly connecting with your souls truth, and it’s WHY transphobes now think they’re in the right for calling transness a mental illness, because mentally Ill white trans people make their own insecurities everyone else’s effing problem!!!! especially since the modern mainstream trans community is often ANTI no-op , constantly exclude , intersex and non-binary people and is habitually led by white/ toxic AMABS who choose to physically transition in some way BEFORE they mentally or spiritually transition and then accuse afabs of bigotry when we call them out on them taking shortcuts to womanhood without doing the real work of unlearning patriarchy and putting us in danger in the process , Which is SO stupid because no matter what they identify as, they still have sizism and patriarchy working in their favor even if they don’t subscribe to those ideologies they still benefit from it and no-op afabs like myself are always percieved as “privileged” when in reality we’re so not. Sizism is the root of sexism and white supremacy and even trans men who are afab, still are abused by those two systems. The trans rights movement being led by privileged non indigenous people was a mistake and I know we’re regressing because no one is ever allowed to accidentally misgender white trans people anymore without being publicly bullied , or even “canceled “ even though cis people of color are still habitually misgendered, by white trans people, because colonial gender roles was ALWAYS intended to exclude us. That’s why black and brown women can be women and non-binary at the same time! we’re already denied of womanhood for not being pale skinned which is often required to be granted feminity under white supremacy , and even skin color aside our natural attributes such as jawlines, and strong personalities are always read as masculine to y’all , because the (2) gender roles for white supremacy is decorated flesh-light with a womb to make aryan children, or big bodied soldier to enable bigotry. That’s it. It’s why cis people of color get genuine gender dysmorphia, because men of color while they can still be toxic aren’t supposed to be as repressed as they are! White patriarchy considered colors feminine, and things like colors and long hair are inherently non-binary to POC. MOC being so repressed is why they become abusive IE… women of color aren’t supposed to be abused as we are!!! This all not okay and I’m so tired of seeing the weakest links being fake woke and being enabled by everyone to publicly self victimize at the expense of us! I can’t stand it anymore! I hate q*eer theory so much for allowing this to happen, the insanity and the performative transitioning that I was almost peer pressured into just so I wouldn’t get accused of being transphobic in lgbt spaces is SO bad, that I’d rather be in the company of cis-straight people now days , who I’m not truly safe around , but I’d rather take my chances with potential old fashioned bigotry rather than whatever toxic , fake woke , neo-liberal , covert racist BS, y’all have going in the lgbt spaces now a days… I have not once ever felt genuinely safe in lgbt spaces , because for a community that claims care SOooo much , about “ progress” they’d rather PERFORM liberation than live it!

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || we will meet again

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

proof read: N/A

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

Back in the day, when Jujutsu Sorcerers were at their prime, lived a Cursed Spirit who goes by the name Sukuna. Once a human Sorcerer himself, he had somehow managed to create himself into the Jujutsu world's most feared Cursed Spirit. He was dubbed 'the King of Curses' and rained terror over the human and jujutsu world; with super natural powers and a sadistic personality to match the title. Everyone who has crossed him shook in absolute fear.

That was, of course, before he met a particular princess.

She was a beautiful woman; the daughter of one of the then king’s favourite concubines. Born with the alluring beauty of her mother, and a heart of gold, it was hard to ignore her presence when she walked into a room. 

She was brought up in the palace, where she was given the title as princess; but she will never sit on the throne of the kingdom her father rules over. As only the King’s wife is allowed to bear the heir that will sit on the throne. She didn’t mind, she had never desired such power to begin with. Even if she was going to be married off to one of the many foreign princes asking for her hand in marriage, she didn’t care about titles. 

Since she was never destined to sit on the throne, her father had given her quite the freedom to do as she pleases. With all her free time, she tends to use it connect to the people of her kingdom; helping the needy during their time of need, always purchasing things from the local vendors and merchants that have travelled long and far. She is beloved by the people, and shines a light on the royal family that makes them more human instead of the godly image that is projected onto the royal family.

Anyone who meets her would fall in love for her - and apparently not even Cursed Spirits were the exception.

The princess have always love spending her time out in nature - horse back riding with a few of the guards in training, swimming in the river that her brothers love to hunt by, learning about the different plants and herbs from the doctors that go out foraging for medical herbs. So it came to the surprise to no one when Sukuna stumbled onto the princess by accident on the riverbed.

Sukuna had not expected to see any human about as he goes about his walk deep in the woods. It was one of those rare moments to himself where he does not necessarily have anything he needed to do on hand, and also the few rare moments where he does not have a mob of sorcerers up his ass. He was just enjoying the sounds of nature and the soft wind blowing against his kimono when he heard what sounded like a human's laughter coming from the river near by. At first he was curious, since no human usually ventures this deeply into the woods. At the same time, he had wanted to ignore it, since humans are just a pain in the ass to deal with even if they can't see you. However, there was something so alluring about that soft giggle that had him wanting to see just who this annoying brat was. So, without even him realising what was happening, his feet quietly walked towards the river and before he knew it, he had pushed the last branch aside to peek over at the river bed curiously. Sitting before him on a flat rock by the river was a woman with flowing hair, her small feet dipped into the running water below as her hands reached forward to play with a few of the fishes that swam by. The pink fabric of her furisode laid behind her like a pink halo, showcasing the intricate sakura trees and flowers that were sown into the fabric. The aura around her was relaxed and peaceful, and somehow just seeing her brings him a sense of peace. As if she could sense his stare, the woman suddenly pauses before she turns to look over her shoulder curiously; bright and seemingly glowing eyes meeting his red ones head on. Sukusa felt the world around him come to a stop as the eyes of the princess before him trapped him on the spot, causing him to loose all train of thought from before. "Oh - were you wanting to sit here too?"

"Huh?"

The casual way she just asked him that question definitely threw him off. The woman actually just lets out a soft laugh at his dry answer. "It's alright - we can share the space if you don't mind." She commented, a teasing tone taking over her voice as she patted the free spot beside her. "I promise I don't bite."

If she had known just who this man was, she might actually understand how ironic her sentence was. But Sukuna decided not to comment on it as he quietly makes his way towards her, sitting down at the spot beside the princess whose eyes had already returned to the river before her. "The water feels extra nice today. And there is more fishes then usual." She conversed with the man casually, causing Sukuna to wonder if she is pretending to be as dense as she is right now. "How are you so calm right now? I mean, do you see a 10ft tall human with four arms every day or what? Your reaction is sort of dull." 

The princess pauses in thought as she thinks, looking far too relaxed by his side. "I have always been able to see...odd things." She started off with a soft hum, glancing over at the man beside her with a soft smile. "I have asked people around me before, and after realising that I am the only one who can see them, I decided to ignore them." She admitted, running her dry hand through her hair softly. "But if I am being honest, this is the first time one has actually ever spoken to me."

"Well, I'm not the everyday curses." He said with a slightly proud tune in his voice, to which the princess beside him looks up at the taller man with interest. "Every day curses are small things, I am basically what people in my world call a Special Grade Curse." He continued, and for some reason, when he saw how her eyes were staring up at in him awe, he looked away with a light blush on his face. He doesn't even know what was about her that drags out these human-like emotions from him - he had never felt like this ever before.

"Special Grade Curse?" She echoes back with curiosity, to which the man beside her just nods softly as he leans back to rest on the free arms, the other two crossed across his chest. Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes shining so brightly with excitement that it caused Sukuna to squint a little. "Can you explain just what you are to me a little more?"

One question was all it took to have Sukuna falling, and if he was being honest - he actually didn’t mind spending so much time on this little human. From sharing stolen nights in her bedroom in the royal palace, to sneaking out to just go to the riverbed where the met for the first time; they even spent time just wandering about his domain. It was actually during these small explorations of the world around them that created a special bond between the two.

For her, he was her escape from the restrictive and repetitive routine of royal life. For him, she was his utopia, a person he can turn to whenever he feels like just killing everyone around him. Soon though, these emotions sprouted into something deeper and more personal. It was jarring at first, falling for a human - but he knows that she was worth it all.

He remembers the way her eyes shone brightly with a constant look of innocence in them, yet she is mature and realistic enough to know that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. He remembers the way she carries herself, her warm and loving smile, how content he felt whenever she wrapped her arms around him. He loves the feeing of her soft hair that tumbles around her face in soft waves, how it feels like silk whenever he runs his fingers through them. How with just one glance, she can fill the void in his heart that he didn't know existed.

Yet they were never set to happy ending to begin with.

It was during just what started off like a normal day when the town the princess was in was suddenly invaded by a rival kingdom’s army. Their goal was to conquer and take over the kingdom with any means necessarily; meaning that the royal family had to go.

Uraume had entered his hideout, panting with wide eyes as they told Sukuna of the town now plunging into chaos. Within seconds the Cursed Spirit was up and sprinting towards the royal palace, great fear and anger gripping him from within. Entering through the destroyed doors of the grand palace, he ignored the screams of anguish of the others around him as he ran straight towards one of the buildings - the building where the royal sleeping chambers were located.

When he finally found her room, he felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest at the sight before him.

The once beautifully crafted shoji doors with panels decorated in a beautiful forest scene now laid in tatters, the furniture inside looking as if though a huge scuffle had happened. Rushing deeper into the room, he felt his heart sank to its stomach when he saw the splatters of blood leading towards the small room where the princess would sleep in.

Entering the back room, his red eyes scanned over the many splatters of blood about the room, the red handprints of the princess smeared across the ornate walls whilst the body of the princess laid on her futon; the sheets now soaked in blood. "No, no, no.." Sukuna managed out in horror as he quickly made his way to his lover's side, pulling her bloodied body into his arms immediately. "Flower, open your eyes. Please.."

Slowly her eyelids begin to move, and Sukuna felt his heart break when he saw how her now dull and tired eyes shifted to look up at him, taking a moment to truly process just who he was. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna mumbles out through a small voice as he pulls her closer, trying his hardest to press his hands against the gashing wound on her abdomen. Since the wound was inflicted by a non-sorcerer, there was no trace of cursed magic on her; meaning that there was no way he can save her to begin with. "I-If only I had known..."

"Shh...it's okay.." The princess whispered out in a soft but pained tone, her bloody hand reaching up to cup his tattoo cheek ever so softly. The familiar touch brought another wave of emotion through Sukuna as he tries to blink back his tears, pulling her closer to his chest as he shifted his posture so she was sitting in his lap. He barely even acknowledge his own kimono that was slowly being soaked in blood. "Y-You didn't know this was going to happen...no one did...don't blame yourself..."

With watery red eyes Sukuna marvelled at how even though she was on death's doorstep, she still tried to put on a smile for his sake. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna manages through a pained tone, tears now sliding down his face in thick streams whilst the woman just gave him a loving smile, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't be.." She mumbles softly, forcing the man to look down at her as she gave him the same smile that had him falling for her from the beginning. "You know that...it takes more than this to get rid of me.."

The teasing words caused Sukuna to let out a soft and pained laugh, remembering the times where he would tell her how annoying she was whenever she would cling onto him and tease him relentlessly. He would trade anything to go back to those moments once more. "Brat.." He manages through his silent sobs, to which the woman just lets out a soft laugh as her fingers slowly traced along his features. For a few moments it was just silence, but the next time she spoke, Sukuna knew that the end was coming.

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

"I promise, my love." Sukuna mumbles back quietly, resting his forehead against hers when he noticed how much effort it takes for her to blink. "No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you." He told her firmly as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead. "No matter how long it takes.." She echoes quietly, to which Sukuna just press a loving kiss on her head just as he felt her soft hand slowly slide down his chest, falling limply on her side.

For a moment Sukuna just held her against him, quietly crying into her hair. His entire world was in his arms, and just like that she was taken away from him. From that sadness came anger, and he soon found himself with the deep desire to crush whoever took her away from him.

Thus started the true rein of terror under the King of Curses, his anger fueling him to chase for bigger goals. Whilst he strive to rid of this world of dirty humans who took his flower away from her, he kept the vow that they promised one another - that they will wait for the other no matter how long it takes.

Because he had promised you so, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[thesunicarusfellfor]

hear me out yandere god Wilbur falling for Reader who is a dancer and even though Reader is a dancer they don’t worship the god of music Wilbur but instead a different god (whatever god of your choice)

Ughghg Gods make the brain go brrrrr I sweaaaarrrr I love writing possessive gods. It's so great. I want to see more God AUs of MCYTs.

Pretty lame compared to my normal writing tbh

Dance for Me (Yandere!God!C!Wilbur x GN!Dancer!Reader) Headcanon/Fic

(Hints of Yandere!God!C!Dream x Reader)

He wanted more parties.

He wanted any little excuse to see that little dancer again.

It didn't matter how much he hated Dream, if inviting him to his parties meant he brought that dancer over, by gods he would beg Dream to stay longer.

When Tommy told him he was invited to a massive peace treaty banquet, he dreaded going.

He hated so many of the other gods and honestly, it didn't seem worth the migraine.

But there was wine.

He must've been close to downing his fifth cup when he saw the most lovely figure he's ever seen.

They twirled around Dream in a perfectly rehearsed pattern, the green fabrics of their clothing swiping through the air with delicate grace.

He was pissed, seeing how the God was skillfully ignoring you to talk to George, missing the beautiful display you were putting on.

"I'm going to hate every second of this..." Wilbur murmured under his breath as he pushed open the door, a few of his dancers and servants in tow behind him, one holding his beloved guitar as instructed.

The massive golden room with a long grand table standing in the centre. Placed strategically around the dark oak table were dozens of thrones, styled to suit each god that was likely attending. There were quite a few dancers dressed in their gods' respective colours, as well as a few servants standing behind their gods' thrones, waiting for commands.

Giving a sigh, he dragged his feet towards his throne that was decorated to his liking and plopped down in it, immediately grabbing the glass of wine that was placed in front of his blank plate. Beside him, his father who was sitting on a black-feathered throne, chuckling to himself, "Long day, mate?"

"I hate here..." He mumbled bitterly into his glass, downing the scarlet coloured liquid as quickly as he could to make this event more bearable, "Why would I want to be in a room with Tommy AND Dream?"

Philza chuckled quietly and have him a pat on the shoulder, "Yeah, yeah, trust me, I know." He shook his head before adjusting his hat, "It'll go quickly, just focus on the wine and dancers. You'll be fine."

Once he got a refill on his glass, he began downing it again as people began to party and celebrate. Honestly, he couldn't chug the glasses of wine down fast enough, the party just got more and more annoying. Anything from Tommy's breathing being slightly too loud, to Techno's usual snippy remarks, even Dream's very existence, everything was filling him with unnecessary anger and annoyance.

By his fifth or sixth glass, he was about to stand up and leave, until the flowing of green fabric brushing past his vision caught his attention. Normally, he would just ignore it, as he was used to fabric always flitting around him (albeit his dancers were dressed in tans, golds and yellows) but the movements were so... different.

He lifted his head completely and stared in shock. There was an elegant figure twirling around Dream in a perfectly rehearsed routine, their lime green silken and chiffon fabrics with diamond and white gemstones tied perfectly around their smooth (s/t) skin. Their soft (h/l) (h/c) hair was neatly styled out of the way while perfectly accenting their flowing movements.

Wilbur's mouth parted slightly in shock as he watched the beautiful dance, which is more than Dream was doing. The idiot was ignoring such a beautiful dance to talk to George, which made him realize that Dream didn't need such a skilled dancer in his court. Wilbur wanted them in his court, and by the gods, he would worship them as if they were a god and he was a mere peasant. Whether they wanted him to or not.

Time must've passed very quickly because, by the time he had shaken himself out of his stupor, he saw Dream staring at him from across the table with a knowing smug grin and his hand on the dancer's mostly bare hip.

"Stunning, aren't they?" He smirked, looking up at them, "This is my lead dancer and my personal favourite of my worshipers. Introduce yourself to him, Doll, let the other gods know who you are. And how you belong to me."

Wilbur was almost trapped in a state of awe as they hurriedly went around the table before stopping at the side of his throne, immediately dropping into a bow, "(Y/n) (L/n), Lead dancer of Dream's temple. Thank you for allowing me to be in your presence. How can I please you, God of Music?" While their lines seemed a bit robotic and possibly more rehearsed than their dances, the God found himself melting at the sound of their voice.

"Please, continue dancing, and enjoy the party to your heart's content."

You honestly were quite tired from dancing all day and all night, but such is life.

Dream definitely wasn't the most merciful god.

But the praises you received from the harsh god made your heart soar. It felt nice to be treated so sweetly by someone who was considered cruel.

The banquet was filled with laughter and joyous music, dancers in different outfits and colours expertly twirling around their gods in an attempt to appease them and hold their attention for long enough.

You briefly glanced over in time to see the God of Music staring at you with his mouth parted in shock.

The amount of pride that filled you as you realized you had another gods attention was almost overwhelming.

Unconsciously, you found yourself dancing more elegantly and passionately, determined to keep his attention on you, and you only.

Your movements stopped immediately once you felt a calloused hand place itself around you and land on your waist.

Keeping your head down respectfully, you tried your best to ignore the murmuring of the two gods, but couldn't help but bite your lip at the praise Dream was giving to you.

After introducing yourself to Wilbur, Dream told you to follow his orders and continue enjoying the rest of the party.

"Name your price for them." Wilbur turned to Dream the second the dancer left his side, "Anything. Everything. Now."

"Eager, aren't we?" The man smirked, adjusting his position to lean forward slightly, "Is your attention that easy to grab, Wilbur? A mere dancer with skill and a tiny bit of green fabric?"

Hiding his growl in a sip of wine, the music god rolled his eyes, "They have immense amounts of skill, they should be worshipped rather than worship. Name your price, Dream, I want that dancer and I will do anything it takes to have them in my grasp."

"Hmm... I'm not sure... They are very good at their job, and I quite like their presence around my temple. Isn't your temple's independence enough? Or are you not satisfied? Always wanting more and more..." He shook his head in mock disappointment, "I'll give them to you... But just know, you owe me one of your dancers and a favour. Where I can ask for anything I want from you."

"Deal," Wilbur smirked, barely thinking about it. He would lay down his entire temple for that single dancer. With a quick motion, he signalled one of his best dancers over and told her that she now belonged to Dream, and in response, Dream called the lead dancer over and told them the same thing.

While the two dancers were surprised, they knew not to disobey orders and went around the table to meet their new gods more personally.

The second (Y/n) got close enough, Wilbur pulled them into his lap and held them close, gently holding their chin so they would look at him, "Hello, (Y/n), you're going to be worshipping me from now on. Now, let's get you out of this... Awful colour..." He gently grabbed at your lime coloured clothing, turning it into a golden hue after touching it.

Upon seeing their shocked expression, he smirked.

"Only gods are supposed to wear gold, my darling, and you fit the bill quite well."

[bffsoobin]

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension 

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts. 

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway. 

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment. 

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand. 

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head. 

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas. 

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh. 

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating. 

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.” 

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again. 

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?” 

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.  

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word. 

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically. 

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.” 

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach. 

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours. 

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips. 

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee. 

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls. 

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully. 

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking. 

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?” 

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently? 

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather. 

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!” 

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates. 

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table. 

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table. 

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-” 

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force. 

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate. 

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you. 

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter. 

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder. 

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close. 

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin. 

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger. 

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time. 

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets. 

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense. 

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand. 

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop. 

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment. 

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu. 

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him. 

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool. 

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables. 

Not a single soul moved. 

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you. 

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with. 

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project. 

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-” 

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched. 

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater. 

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead. 

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment. 

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up. 

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath. 

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room. 

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again; 

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl. 

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.” 

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms. 

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night. 

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste. 

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold. 

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu. 

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second. 

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one. 

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes. 

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly. 

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!” 

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!” 

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms. 

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands. 

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. 

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath. 

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury. 

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation. 

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-” 

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside. 

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.” 

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you. 

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware. 

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible. 

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart. 

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm. 

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book. 

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?” 

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed. 

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.” 

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.” 

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.” 

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise. 

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours. 

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night. 

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table. 

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool. 

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment. 

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you. 

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand. 

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically. 

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment. 

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class. 

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care. 

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested. 

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you. 

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.” 

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.” 

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?” 

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk. 

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-” 

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap. 

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period. 

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the   measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year. 

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise. 

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought. 

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second. 

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh. 

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.” 

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year? 

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing. 

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?). 

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people. 

“So you know that I said...” 

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment. 

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.” 

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.” 

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.” 

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

[kamotoshi]

safe [chōsō x reader]

pairing: chōsō x fem sorcerer! reader

genre: fluff with (seriously faint) hints of angst

warning(s): contains manga spoilers for chapter 62!

word count: 2.3k

overview: after spending many years as a sorcerer, you’ve believed certain things to be true. but a chance meeting with a curse that’s developed into a deeper relationship changes your perspective.

notes: want some listening music? here are two songs that helped me write this: summer fling by kang + effervescent by toonorth

A quiet, but gasping breath fills your lungs with a pocket of cold air when you wake from a dead sleep with a start. Instinctively, your hand flies in front of you, directed towards the doorway to obliterate whatever intruder you automatically assume has roused you from your deep slumber. However, much to your surprise, you’re completely alone. Rubbing your eyes, you turn your head towards the alarm clock on your bedside table to check the hour.

Ah, it’s that time again.

With a gentle sigh, you slide out from beneath the warm covers, causing your skin to break out in a wave of goosebumps at the chill in your room that you throw on a sweater and pants to combat before heading to the kitchen of your small but cozy living quarters. Sleep refuses to relinquish its grip, and you ungracefully bump into a few surfaces in the process of preparing two, hot cups of tea and finding a blanket to drape around your shoulders.

The rush of crisp air that greets you when you finally make your way outside of your abode livens you up a bit, though, and you wrap your arms around yourself to retain as much warmth as you can. Following the stone path decorated with glowing lanterns brings you to the front gates of your school—a place you know to visit whenever you wake up with such a start in the dead of the night. The drinks in your hands radiate heat that staves off the bite of the cold as another gust of wind howls past you.

In the darkness of the night, only lit ever so faintly by the twinkling stars in the sky and the waning moon, your eyes search for the visitor who seems to have fallen into a habit of making their presence known around the same time on every odd evening. Sure enough, the thumping of heavy boots against the stone walkway winding near and through Jujutsu High’s campus draws your attention to a tall figure wandering around nearby. The baggy cream clothes draped over his body beneath a vest the hue of blood instantly give away his identity, along with the dark, spiked hair gathered neatly atop both halves of his head.

Before his name can leave your mouth, he turns around to face you, as if he senses your presence the same way you sense his on the nights that he chooses to visit. It’s almost as if he uses some unseen force to disturb you from your sleep so he can steal away anywhere from a few minutes to hours of your time. Of course, this possibility would seem at least the slightest bit insane to an average person, but, for you—a jujutsu sorcerer—it cannot be discounted for the sole reason of what your visitor is: a special grade curse.

Wordlessly, the man you’ve come to know as Chōsō after a twisted event that led to many more spontaneous encounters such as this approaches you. His dark gaze skims over your figure before settling on your own, making your heart thud gently in your chest. Placing his hands in his pockets, he glances at the drinks you’re holding and asks, “Will you come on a walk with me?”

As a sorcerer, it should be second nature to meet the request of a cursed spirit with a no followed by a prompt exorcism. However, in all the times that he’d come to visit, he hadn’t appeared to do so out of ill will or inclination to get some sort of revenge. He’d always sat on the outskirts of the campus or walked around the lush forest surrounding it with you, making as much or as little conversation as you’d liked. In spite of how powerful you knew he was and the nature of his being, you didn’t feel particularly put off by him. In fact, you often found yourself thinking about him and when he’d stop by next more than you probably should.

Slowly, you nod, passing him one of your mugs so the two of you can be on your way. “Thanks.”

The sky above is surprisingly clear, given the school’s location in Tokyo, aside from a few, lingering clouds that float past the moon on their way around the part of the world you call home. It’s oddly peaceful considering your company for the evening. But you’d never really felt uneasy in his presence to begin with. And you certainly don’t feel threatened now, with the way he only seems focused on trying not to spill any of the tea you’d so kindly prepared for him as the two of you traverse a dirt path near the school’s grounds.

It's also a bit ironic, you think, that the route you seem to have fallen into the habit of taking leads you near one of the many, small shrines—gems hidden amongst the forest’s depths—but he appears to have just as much of an affinity to the location since he never suggests going elsewhere.

Beneath the gentle, pale glow from above filtered through leafy branches extending over you, Chōsō’s features take on a soft, almost peaceful appearance. He seems to bask in the symphony of crickets singing as he takes a deep breath and sits down on the grassy hill directly beside you. His dark eyes dipping down to the lip of the mug in his hands before shifting over to meet yours catches you off-guard since you hadn’t realized you’d been watching him so attentively.

“Hmm?” he wonders and takes another sip of his tea. His voice and your own pounding heartbeat are the only things you can hear above the sea of noise.

Inquisitively, you ask him a question you’re sure he’s used to hearing: “Why do you keep coming here?”

He sighs and glances at the grass beneath the two of you before answering, “I get overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” you echo.

His head bobs in a slow nod as he tilts it up towards the sky once more, making his dark eyes twinkle in spite of the hint of sadness that seems to be lingering behind his gaze. “I’m always expected to do things. To pay the price of being granted my life here. And sometimes, all I wanna do is just sit and look at the sky.” There’s a small, but undeniable ache of empathy in your chest as you allow your eyes to flit over every feature of his face, searching for the words he’s not saying. But with his straightforward, unabashedly honest manner of speaking, it’s unlikely for him to leave you wondering.

After taking a drink to fight off the chilliness, another question leaves your lips. “You could go anywhere to cloud watch or stargaze, though. Why come all the way here?”

“I want to.”

Your fingers tap against the ceramic of your mug. “But being here puts you in a lot of danger. Why would you want to go somewhere like this to escape?”

Without a hint of hesitation, his dark eyes find your own once more as he states, “Because you’re here.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you filled with the ceaseless chirps of crickets during which you attempt to mask any effects of your racing heart and the heat crawling up your neck at his confession. However, the shock that strikes you like lightning must be written on your face, since his eyebrows furrow slightly with confusion at your reaction, and he adds, “I thought I made it clear I come here to spend time with you.”

For a few seconds, your lips make quivering, unsuccessful attempts at forming words your vocal cords won’t allow you to voice before you direct your attention to the mug in your hands filled with tea, instead, and try to regain your composure enough to speak. “W-Well, I knew that, but why?” is all you can inquire with a quiet murmur.

His chest rises and falls in a deep, shuddering breath as a cool gust of wind whistles through the trees. At first, you wonder, with the slight glossiness to his eyes and his sudden inability to meet your gaze, if his emotions are the source of the tremors you notice in his jaw. However, the realization that he’s cold soon reaches you at the sight of his arms folding across his chest. Wordlessly and without thinking, you close the little distance between your bodies and drape part of your blanket around his broad shoulders.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, uncrossing his arms so one of his hands can hold the side of the blanket you’ve given him while the other plants itself on the grass behind you. The unexpected warmth radiating from him that seems to engulf you in the tight space you’re now sharing makes it hard to resist the temptation of resting your head on his shoulder.

“I miss my brothers,” is the gently spoken truth that leaves his lips, “I wanted to give them a better life. My failure to fulfill my role as their older brother is something that weighs heavily on me, even though I know they’d tell me they forgave me if I had been there in their final moments.”

Following his moment of vulnerability, the two of you find enough courage to make eye contact, and you struggle not to lose yourself in the seemingly endless depths of his midnight-colored irises. With your faces mere inches away, you’re granted a closer look at him than you’ve ever had before, and it seems, from the way he’s watching you so intently, that you’re not the only one enjoying the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

The muscles in his neck tense with a thick swallow before he continues, “But when I’m here with you, I feel like it’s okay that I’m still alive even though they’ve passed. You don’t look at me with hatred in your eyes or expect anything from me in exchange for my existence. You accept me as I am.” Another gentle breeze dislodges a few strands of hair tucked behind his ear that you naturally move back into place for him before your hand warm from the drink you’d been holding comes to rest against his cheek. “Why?”

His fingertips ghosting along your own neck and cheek leave sparks of electricity on your skin in their wake. But you manage to organize the thoughts threatening to escape your mind at the tenderness of his touch enough to whisper, “When you fought with me instead of against me, I realized that maybe the way I’ve been taught to view the world we live in isn’t entirely accurate. You risked your life to save mine. You defied the rules about the world I once thought were true. And because you showed me that you cared about my life, I want to do the same for you.” A hint of a smile playing at his lips brings a warmth to you that you don’t think even the heaviest of blankets could provide. Taking a deep breath to slow your heart—which had been racing since he’d locked eyes with you—you ask, “Is that why you want to come here?”

“Hmm?”

“Because you care about me?”

He nods earnestly as his thumb skims over your cheekbones, and the adoration glimmering in his eyes like the stars in the night sky above brings your face closer to his. With a timidness you wouldn’t have expected from him, his lips meet with yours in a short, fleeting kiss, as if he’s testing the waters. The way you chase his after they separate, though, serves as a silent confirmation and has him deepening the kisses your lips return to his to share. Given his relatively blunt yet quiet personality, you’re pleasantly surprised by the slow, sensual manner with which his lips move against yours. You’re sure the two of you could remain in this secluded part of the woods forever, under the cover of the shadows masking you from the pale moonlight as you lose yourselves in the moment, but the reality of the situation marks its painful return when you pull away.

“I care about you a lot, and I want to see you more often,” he breathes, “But the last thing I want is to put you in danger. That’s why I’ve been visiting every once in a while and in the middle of the night.”

Moving your hand to his shoulder to rub it gently, you murmur, “I know; I want to see you too, Chōsō.” In an instant, his arms are around you, pulling your body flush against his, and the action fills you with a bittersweet feeling, since this is only the first time you’ve been so close to him, yet you’re unsure of when you’ll get to share more affectionate moments with him like this one. “We’ll find a way to make it work,” is the promise you whisper into his neck while he nestles his face in yours.

After a few, long moments of silence have passed during which your mind exhausts itself by tirelessly attempting to form solutions to an issue you never could’ve imagined you’d have in your lifetime, you start to relinquish your grip around Chōsō. He, however, isn’t ready to do the same, and refuses to budge.

Instead, he answers your curious hum with, “I’ll let you go back to bed soon, but is it okay if I hold you for a little longer?” Even though fatigue is starting to settle in, you consent and wrap your arms around him once more, resting your head against the side of his and nestling your face in his hair as you let your heavy eyelids close. “I’ve just never felt this way before.”

“Which is…?”

Your heart flutters against his chest in cadence with his own against yours at his answer.

“Safe.”

[willowcrowned]

Star Wars Time Travel AU - Flavor: Anakin and Obi-Wan, from ROTJ to TPM

I asked, you guys answered. Here it is: Obi-Wan and Anakin get sent back to TPM after ROTJ, and proceed to confuse everyone. In everyone’s defense, Anakin and Obi-Wan have a lot of confusing trauma.

The thing about being dead is that it’s not quite as restful as everyone made it out to be. 

Oh, Obi-Wan is sure that if he’d done the irresponsible thing and ignored Qui-Gon and passed properly into the netherworlds of the Force instead of following his bloody Path of the Whills, he would be perfectly happy floating along as part of the larger universe. And alright, he doesn’t regret doing it because Luke desperately needed the help, what with Yoda’s isolation having made him only more reticent, but it’s still annoying. Because even though he watched Anakin toss Sidious down a reactor shaft and die peacefully in his sons arms before moving on, the next phase of existence looks a whole lot like the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple forty years ago, and he’s being stared at by one very alive-looking Mace Windu.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan says, because being dead is no excuse for being impolite. “Whose idea was it to decorate like this? I find it rather gauche.”

One also very alive looking Vokara Che sends him a warning look. “Large windows and pale colors are beneficial to the health of patients.”

“Oh, I think we’re rather past the need for worrying about our health,” Obi-Wan jokes.

Vokara just gives him a confused and suspicious look. “Are you alright, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan feels hysterical laughter bubble up inside him. He’s dead. He watched the Jedi fall, felt their deaths like they were his own and heard the Force crying out at the pain and wrongness of it all; he disfigured— attempted to kill— one of the few people he had ever loved, fully and unconditionally, and felt the attempt rend him further apart in the process, and then he watched as that person twisted themself into a horrible facsimile of what they once were; he hid for twenty years on a desert planet while slowly detaching himself from his physical body so he could train and advise a child on whom he pinned nearly all his hopes; he was killed by Vader, and then watched Luke save him— save the man Obi-Wan couldn’t— and saw Vader kill Sidious, and then die. And now— now— he has finally passed on, expecting rest and peace, only to wake up in the healer’s ward of a temple that was destroyed.

Obi-Wan laughs, sharp and harsh and slightly deranged. “No,” he says, “I am not.”

“Yeah,” says a voice from next to him, “I get that.”

Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin— wait, no. Obi-Wan turns to see an unharmed Anakin— well, not quite. Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin, alive, unharmed, whole... and all of nine years old.  

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, surprised. He’d assumed that this odd make-believe healer’s ward was a result of the Path of the Whills— a journey that Anakin had decidedly not undertaken.

“Yep,” Anakin says crossing his arms. “So, this is what being dead is like? I’d assumed it would be less, uh,” he searches for the word, “medical.”

“It could be a construct,” Obi-Wan suggests, “while our consciousnesses slowly dissipate— a waystation of sorts. Of course,” he frowns, “that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Excuse me,” Mace Windu says, very on-edge, “but what exactly are you two talking about?”

“Ugh,” Anakin complains, lying back, “why is he here?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, acerbic, “I wonder why he could be here, what with that fall you gave him.”

Anakin flushes, embarrassed. “Fair point.”

“So,” Obi-Wan turns to Mace Windu, “where are we exactly?”

Windu raises an extremely suspect eyebrow. “You’re in the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple on Coruscant.”

“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan says, a touch exasperated, “but where are we?”

Windu frowns at him.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, “I don’t think he knows what you mean.”

Windu casts an evaluating glance at Anakin. “No, I don’t.”

Obi-Wan gives him a curious look before turning back to Anakin. “Perhaps he’s part of the construct.” He pauses. “Speaking of, why have you chosen to look like that?”

“Like what?” Anakin blinks confused.

“Like—” Obi-Wan huffs. “Does anyone have a mirror?”

“There’s one in the fresher,” Vokara Che says.

Anakin hops out of bed, and after a moment, Obi-Wan follows him to the fresher.

“Oh sweet stars and suns,” Anakin breathes, looking at his ten year old face. “I really used to look like this?”

Obi-Wan looks in the mirror as well, shocked to find that he looks as he did when he was twenty, padawan braid and all. “You know, I’m actually very glad that I’m never going to have to try to unpack the psychological implications of this,” he remarks.

Anakin snorts. “Yeah, why’d you choose to look like that?”

“I... didn’t,” Obi-Wan realizes. Before, he’d been able to change his appearance to living beings. He hadn’t for Luke, partially because Luke probably wouldn’t have taken very well to a thirty year old Obi-Wan, and partially because there wasn’t a point, given that Force ghosts didn’t get creaky knees.  

“Weird,” Anakin says.

They head out of the fresher to see that Vokara Che and Mace Windu are looking at them as if they’ve grown second heads.

“So let me unpack this,” Windu says, “you both think you’re dead.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan look at each other.

“We have reason to believe so, yes,” Obi-Wan replies, amused. “Are you going to try to convince us that we’re not?”

Windu raises one very unimpressed eyebrow. “I would think that even a padawan would be able to look into the Force to see that they’re not dead.”

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin, who shrugs. It seems that neither of them have allowed themselves to be very connected to the Force. It must be a force of habit— Obi-Wan had been careful on Tatooine to never let too much of the outside filter in, for fear of Vader finding him, and for fear that the dark currents in the Force would sweep him away. Perhaps Vader had done a similar thing.

“Shall we?” Obi-Wan suggests to Anakin. At this point, it’s likely that this is the construct telling them both that they need to connect to the Force to finally relinquish their consciousnesses.

Anakin shrugs. “Can’t make things worse, right?”

Obi-Wan snorts. “On three?”

Anakin nods.  

“One, two, three.”

Obi-Wan drops his outer shielding, letting the Force filter through.  

What he feels isn’t the ethereal, ineffable currents of the Force, calling him to drift among them as they had during his time as a Force ghost. What he feels is thousands of bright lights, sparks where there should be void, and a darkness that has surrounded everything but not yet consumed it.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathes. “Anakin, I’m not sure we’re dead.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything back, and Obi-Wan turns to see him crying.

“They’re alive,” Anakin whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, face frozen in wonder and horror and guilt. “They’re all alive.”

Obi-Wan can feel them— every single one— and a lump rises in his throat. “It’s—” he starts, but he can’t finish the sentence. “We—”

Anakin nods, face still frozen. “How?”

“I—” Obi-Wan shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“We were— you were—”

“I know.”

“And now they’re—” Anakin takes a deep breath, small body shuddering, and Obi-Wan instinctively gathers him up in his arms, holding him close.

“It’s impossible,” Obi-Wan says. “You were dead. I was dead. I felt it.”

“Luke,” Anakin chokes, “We—”

“We’re alive,” Obi-Wan says hoarsely. “The Jedi are alive— none of it has to happen.”

“Mustafar,” Anakin adds, hoarse. “Padmé.”

“The Death Star. Alderaan.” Obi-Wan says in a dark undertone. Then, louder, “I will be very cross if I get chopped in half again.”

Anakin frowns at him, momentarily distracted. “The blow didn’t hit. I should know. You have nothing to complain about.”

“I have nothing to complain about?” Obi-Wan replies, indignant. “I was on Tatooine for twenty years!”

“You cut off my arms and legs!” Anakin shouts.

Obi-Wan huffs. “Only three!”

“I was stuck in a stupid life-support suit for twenty! Fucking! Years!” Anakin retorts. “Do you know how much that sucked? I couldn’t eat real food! I fucking suffocated just because I took off my helmet to see my son in my last breaths!”

“You killed me!” Obi-Wan shouts indignantly.  

There’s a cough from beside him, and a silence as Vokara Che, Mace Windu, and several very nosy padawans stare at him.

Obi-Wan looks at them, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. “I got better.”

Anakin looks at Obi-Wan, the rage in his eyes not Vader’s, but Anakin’s, and then slowly, slowly, it dissipates.

Anakin snorts. “Fuck, we made a mess of things.”

A small, sad, smile creeps on to Obi-Wan's face. “We really did.” He sighs. “I suppose we’ll have to fix everything.”

Anakin shrugs. “Well, Sith Lords are our specialty.” He sighs. “And then I’m retiring on Naboo and learning to fish.”

[demonicheadcanons]

Obey Me Undateables / Side Dishes and Little Affections

AN: The last post for the brothers was ridiculously popular and this was requested so! Here we go. Just little ways the undateables are affectionate to the MC. Romance-coded but not for Luke bc he’s baby. I did this on mobile so forgive me for any formatting issues, and for the lack of a read more!

As you may have seen, I struggled a lot with Solomon because I really view him as being indifferent. I’m sorry if his is a little underwhelming! I also wrote this differently from the last one because I forgot how I formatted it, sorry ;u;

.

Diavolo

- He’s busy all the time. Like truly, this man rarely gets a break, and even when he does, his mind is still tick-tick-ticking away. Crawl into his lap and hold his face in your hands and he’ll finally relax, you can see the clouds clear away from his eyes. He kisses your forehead and holds your face in return, shining again. It only takes a few moments for him to settle completely, to shut off all his worries.

- He really just,,, likes to pick you up? So long as you’re not absolutely terrified he’ll completely randomly walk up to you and lift you up and carry you around with him or just hold you there. Bonus points if you wrap your arms around his shoulders and / or bury your face into his neck. Extra bonus points if you kiss or nuzzle against his cheek. His grin is so wide and bright it could light up the whole Devildom. Additionally, if you run and jump at him he will drop everything to catch you, no matter what. He has not and will never fail to catch you, and it makes him laugh so hard you can feel it in the way his arms and chest shake as he holds you.

- He likes to lay down beside you and link pinkies. It’s so soft, such a delicate little thing, and yet you trust him enough to let him do that. The minimal contact makes it feel even more special to him, there’s no pressure there. You’re close and he has a reminder of your presence beside him and it’s enough, it’s enough.

- With Diavolo, if you decide to teach him cute human things, you might regret it later, because he remembers them all. You put your palm out once, telling him that he’s supposed to rest his chin there, and from then on he’ll do it immediately. He will also expect you to do it too, and his timing is completely random. You’ll be talking to Barbatos and he’ll hold his hand out and wait for you to rest your chin in it. When you do, he pokes at your cheek with his thumb and walks off again.

- Please play cute games with him. Farming games like Stardew Valley or things like Terraria and Minecraft, or the Sims, or anything like that. He also doesn’t mind matches on more competitive games, but he likes to relax and make a house or a farm with you, and his reactions to everything is adorable; you two make Sims and he cheers when they get married, and even if they’re not representing you two and are just random Sims, he jokes about how you should do that too someday. He’s amazing at games that are strategy based, but prefers to play anything else so he can relax and not think for a while.

.

Barbatos

- Random tickles. It’s completely unexpected and he is very sneaky - the first few times it’ll catch you heavily off guard, and even after that it’s hard to predict when you’ll feel his gloved hands brush against your sides. He’s an expert at guessing where someone is ticklish, and abuses that power when alone with the people he loves (namely you!)

- Food fights but on a small scale. He’ll walk past you in the kitchen and brush flour across your face, disguising it as him simply being affectionate as he passes by, a reminder that he cares about you and is thinking about you even as he works. His movements are graceful and confident as always, to the point where it’s actually quite hard to even realise what he’s done. He will consider telling you before you leave the kitchen. He really will consider it.

- Similarly, if his hands are wet, just before drying them off he’ll flick water in your direction and then act like he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask if he just did that. Really, MC, why would he do that? He’s been so busy cooking, and you’re accusing him of doing something so childish?

- He quite likes just, holding you up and carrying you around but in a different way to Diavolo. Instead of Princess carries, it’s more like if you jump onto someone and wrap your legs around their waist and your arms around their shoulders? He loves carrying you around like that. Cling onto him! He’s not fond of having you cling to his back, but his sides or front is fine.

- Barbatos tends to keep an eye on you and it’s really hard to tell, but if you’re in the same room as him he’s keeping tabs on what you’re doing. You could swear he has eyes on the back of his head, because he always seems to know what you’re up to. In reality, he really just likes seeing how you look when you’re focused, or, alternatively, when you’re completely zoned out and off in space, thinking of something completely random and irrelevant to the current situation. He’ll come up and tap your forehead and smile at you when it looks like you’re back in the room again.

.

Solomon

- Solomon isn’t super affectionate and he’s not really an acts of kindness kind of guy. The most important thing for him is proximity; he doesn’t need you pressed up against his side all the time, but he likes having you in the same room as him as often as possible. You spend your evenings in his room in Purgatory Hall, laying or his bed or working at his desk, as he busies away with some new spell or writes down results of experiments with different potion ingredients. He doesn’t bother thinking too hard about it and just accepts it, but the reality is that it’s very calming and comforting for him. He’s also not someone who worries much about being judged or anything, so regularly having another person around doesn’t bother him.

- He asks for your input a lot. Simply put, he wants to hear you talk, and he’d love to know what makes you tick and how your brain works. “What do you think of this?” “How do you think Satan would react if...” and so on. So many ‘what if’ questions that it might make your head spin, because he’s always playing a game in his head of ‘what would happen if...’ despite rarely following through with it outside of experimenting with his magic and potions, and he wants to involve you in it too.

- Solomon doesn’t mind holding hands, and likes to play silly games when you are. Things like having thumb wars, or he’ll tangle his fingers up with yours and watch, amused, as you try and fail to pull your hand from his grip. Afterwards he’ll hold your hand with both of his and run his fingers and thumbs over it to soothe you. He also likes to just rest his hand on top of yours when you’re sitting beside each other.

- He’s going to try to be affectionate if it’s something you seem to want, and just out of curiosity. The one thing that sticks is that, if you’re cooking for him (because he’s not allowed to) he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and hug you from behind, his chin in your shoulder as he watches whatever you’re doing. He’ll blow air at the side of your face or at your fringe / bangs if you have them, so long as you’re not doing anything too dangerous and aren’t at risk of getting seriously injured.

- Bonus: If Solomon calls you and says “try this” or “drink some of this” don’t do it. Or at the very least, ask about any possible effects first. Moreso for food than for potions; he’ll find a way to reverse the potion, but the memory of eating his food will be stuck with you forever.

- Bonus bonus: Solomon loves giving you squishy hugs but he will squeeze you too tight and he will laugh even if he feels your spin click against his arms as you yelp. He won’t hurt you, but he will squeeze you hard enough that breathing will be difficult for a moment. You can tell from his smirk that he doesn’t feel guilty at all.

.

Simeon

- Simeon likes having you play with his hair. The way you twirl strands of hair between your fingers and try and fail to make a mess of his soft locks, which always return to their place no matter how hard you try to stop them. Bonus points for innocently wandering fingers that brush down the sides of his face, thumbs and fingers that ever so lightly brush along his cheekbones or around and under his jaw. He relaxes into your touch, eyes fluttering closed before he opens them just enough to smile at you, silent but oh so visibly delighted.

- If he knows it won’t make you sick and it’ll wipe off, he actually quite likes to draw on your hands and arms. He’ll let you do it in return, of course, but simple doodles and patterns, hearts and diamonds and sweet little reminders you’ll see later when you have to wash them off.

- Laying on your stomachs with your sides pressed together on a thin, soft blanket, knees bent and legs swinging in the air as you both read the same book. Simeon always finishes the pages first and so you take charge of just turning the pages, until he mumbles that he had lost focus - he’d been too busy watching your expressions, almost lulled to sleep by listening to your gentle breathing and wondering if you were enjoying the story and what your thoughts on it were, trying to piece it all together without disturbing you.

- You pass him at RAD or out in the Devildom and you don’t necessary stop, but he always waves, and god is it impossible to ignore how he lights up. His eyes gleam and he looks so, so happy just to see you and be reminded of your existence and if you’ve been unsure before about how truthful he’s being when he says he loves you and adores being around you, that look on his face will erase all your doubts. He’s beautiful and he’s glowing and it’s because he saw you!

.

Luke

- It’s an obvious one but baking together! Making cakes and decorating them. Letting stress out as you knead bread, experimenting with making different types of pastries. One time you make a batch of cupcakes and decorate them to look like dogs and he feels really sad when people eat them but he’s proud all the same, and he likes that he gets to feel proud around you.

- He acts like he’s indifferent, but he quite likes when you call him your brother. If you call him your little brother, he’ll protest because he’s hundreds of years older than you in reality, but he allows it after a while. So long as he can call you his big sibling in return, it’s worth it. If any of the brothers tease him over being the little brother, he remarks that at least you trust him and care for him so much as to call him your brother. None of them can really respond to that.

- Pat! Him! On! The! Head! Adjust his scarf! Fix his hat! He doesn’t understand why he enjoys it so much, but then Simeon points out that it probably makes him feel cared for, and that’s absolutely it. No teasing works or harsh gestures, just little acts that show you care about him or are thinking about him. It makes him feel so safe and happy.

- He always remembers things on your schedule for you, from little reminders that you might forget about to big important events. The only other person he does that for is Simeon, so it’s really a big deal for him - he shows enough interest to listen to you and remember all the little details you tell him, and then to reach out to you and make sure you remember or just to say he hopes you have a good time. If it’s something stressful, he might not message beforehand, but he’ll show up when it’s over with some treats and act like he just happened to be baking today and had some to spare.

Tag list: @katsukis-sad-angel