#and you can hear it in his voice. the barely perceptible shift. that he reached his breaking point

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

I have to put fresh sheets on my bed and make it but I've just been sitting on my bare mattress for the last 20 mins ranting to myself about this damn show

[lavendermin]

Not a request, but I just wanted to ramble about this thought I've been having for a while (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

Jing Yuan who is so in-tune with how his s/o acts that if they get kidnapped and someone impersonates them (even if appearances are perfect like Sparkle's ability), he's just like "ahaha you're not them, okay where are they" by the first few lines the impersonator says

I think this is such a neat concept to play around with and explore not only the relationship but giving the reader depth with exploring mannerisms and habits they may have with Jing Yuan.

He’s a perceptive man, of course he would tell when something is off with his beloved.

Take, for example, possession by a heliobus. You’re left with an out of body experience like you’re listening from within a dream as a heliobus possesses your body to try to get to leech off your energy and emotions. Of course your emotions are strongest with Jing Yuan. How could they not be?

The heliobus has unfortunately picked up on this.

cw | possession

There’s a knock at the door and Jing Yuan is faced with your bashful smile in the middle of the night. Right off the bat he can sense something is off.

“Evening, my love,” you greet with a shy wave. “I got, um, locked out of my place.”

“Again?” he inquires with a raised brow. “Come inside. It’s rather cold out.”

He’s got you seated in the living room as he brings a pot of tea and some cups. Your hands felt rather cold so this should warm you up, he insists. You take the drink with a sincere thanks, cheeks warm.

“You probably have not eaten since you were locked out. It was a long walk here I’m sure.” Jing Yuan returns with a small tray of fruits and an assortment of small snacks. It quickly takes up much of the coffee table and you anxiously reassure that he shouldn’t have to trouble himself over this for you.

The tea on your lips brings a delightful feeling of reassurance—belonging.

“Who are you, really?” Jing Yuan asks casually, a sharpness barely registering as he maintains his cool. “I know the person in front of me is my true beloved, however, one does not change overnight.”

Your body falters, and there’s a haze that you can barely hear Jing Yuan’s familiar voice through. The heliobus is struggling to maintain composure.

“What do you mean? I’m–”

“Eye contact.”

“What?”

Jing Yuan chuckles, something smooth and calculating. “She cannot hold eye contact for more than four seconds, not even with me most of the time. When you arrived, it was far too straightforward.”

He reaches over to pluck the teacup from your hands, turning it in his grip inquisitively. Your mouth is left agape, fingers slightly twitching as the heliobus struggles. There are slight lipstick smudges all around from where you (or rather, the heliobus) drank from it.

“You do not know her character. She is particular about drinking from only one area where her lips have already stained the cup. She is meticulous. You are not.”

“T-That’s not–” Your voice shifts as the heliobus begins to lose hold. It’s disorienting—feeling like you’re listening to a conversation within a dream.

“And lastly,” he continues, “she would not have knocked. She would have messaged me of her arrival.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Ah, right on time.”

Jing Yuan stands, the heliobus at a loss for words at such an overbearing energy he gives off. A silent rage flickers like embers with his piercing honeyed stare. The fear is raw as it courses through them—the feeling weighing heavily on you by extension.

The smile Jing Yuan gives is anything but sincere. You feel a shiver run up your spine. “It seems your time playing a part is now over. I would like my beloved back. Do give the Ten-Lords Commission my regards.”

[jobean12-blog]

Heart of a Wolf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Werewolf!Bucky)

Word Count: 746

Summary: Life without Bucky is unbearable but when he somehow returns to you, changed but the same, you hold on to all hope that it's more than just a dream.

Author's Note: Just needed to get this out and I love werewolf!bucky. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy🥰

Warnings: angsty beginning, mentions of grief, there is a lot of softness and love too

In the stillness of the night you lie awake. The shadows cast by the moon dance along the bare walls while the whispers of the wind linger. The darkness envelopes you, echoing the emptiness you feel inside. The only sound you hear is that of your own heartbeat, a slow and rhythmic reminder of what he left behind.

The world itself feels withdrawn and you’re left alone with the weight of your grief. Your tired mind plays tricks on you. The dimly lit corners of your perception hold illusions of color…blue like the ocean. Somewhere, deep down, you know these visions are mere remnants of your longing for a love lost.

The night, once shared in whispered promises and soft touches, has transformed into a vast void of emptiness and heartache. The profound silence is punctuated only by the ache you feel but you grasp at the fleeting solace found in the illusionary glimpses of his presence.

As the night deepens and your sorrow crushes you nearly to dust, you whisper his name, one last attempt, one last plea.

Silence.

But just as you close your eyes to succumb to the nightmare, the air thickens with an otherworldly energy, it’s presence felt in every corner of the room. It settles into your bones, warm and familiar.

The shadows stir, the darkness parting for something even stronger, something filled with a love and longing that transcends all else, even fear.

Your heart beats with new life and you search in the darkness, hope filling your soul.

“Bucky?”

“I have missed you more than life itself,” he whispers, emerging from the dark.

His eyes, though somehow more beautiful than before, still carry the same depth of emotion that connects your souls. His voice, a whisper that both resonates with the echoes of the past and the enchantment of the present, beckons you.

He extends his hand, a silent invitation that holds the promise of things you cannot begin to fathom but still somehow understand.

You rush to him, clinging to the softness of his skin and the hardness of muscle that ripples beneath. He captures you in his embrace, his hands wandering with a reverence over the curves he once cherished and finding new life in every touch.

“Bucky,” you cry, burying your face in his neck and combing your fingers through his long, dark hair.

His lips ghost along your jaw as he cups your chin and breathes you in.

“I have done everything to come back to you,” he murmurs before his lips brush yours. “And here you are. Waiting.”

“I’ve waited every night since,” you say softly.

His long fingers caress your skin and he draws your closer, pressing his lips to yours.

As the feel and taste of you consumes his senses he comes alive, his desire for you unbridled in its release.

Your name falls from his lips as his body begins to contort and shift. Fur grows like dark, silken threads, soft and lustrous in the moonlight. Bones groan and creak until he towers above you, his sharp teeth gleaming as his snout twitches with his deep breaths.

With a gasp you take an unsteady step back. He does nothing to hinder your retreat but you can see his long, sharp claws twitch at his sides.

“What happ…?” you start, choking on any other words.

With trembling lips you study him, some of your surprise and fear dissipating as he holds you captive with his gaze, one still familiar but filled with vulnerability and love.

“I made a choice,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “One I knew would bring me back to you.”

Your fingers reach out, delicate and unsure.

“Bucky.”

His whispered name holds finality and when your fingertips touch his fur your eyelashes flutter and your breath rushes out.

“Doll,” he breathes out, his own eyes closing as he gathers you against him, the tension in his body melting away.

The feeling of warmth and safety envelopes you and when you turn your face to his fur his scent is the same.

He bends over you, nuzzling your neck with his snout as he drags it along the delicate curve with a long inhale.

“Every night I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms again,” he hums against your skin.

Your fingers curl into his fur and you burrow closer.

“Please don’t let this be a dream,” you whisper. “If it is, I don’t want to wake up.”  

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife

[angelmatthew]

₊˚.༄ ginger tea - sung hanbin

this is very self indulgent because i was sick last week too :(( i can never keep sickfics short and sweet because i'm a sucker for whump, this is very soft whump though ! my writing's still a bit rusty but it's getting better (i hope). also, i'm still not sure about the layout for my posts so i'm trying out different things, i'll stick to one layout eventually!

🖇️request

↬hanbin x gn!reader ↬2054 words ↬fluff, soft angst, one shot ↬tw: mentions of vomit, a little bit whumpy, not proofread

your muscles were aching, your head pounding like a bass drum and you could barely breathe with your stuffy nose. you had to be in class in an hour but getting out of bed was a daunting mission.

you rolled over, clinging to the warmth of your bed, hoping a few more minutes might work a magic fix. and, before you knew it, you were out like a light.

you’re woken up two hours later by the sound of your phone ringing.

"hey, where are you sweetheart?" you picked up the phone without even checking the caller. once you recognize the familiar voice, you immediately snap into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"oh my god, bin, i’m so sorry i overslept," you confess. you hear background chatter and figure hanbin is already at the coffee shop for your study date. he promised to help you with your finals, despite his busy schedule.

hanbin's voice carries genuine concern. "it’s okay, your voice sounds tired, are you feeling alright?"

“i’m okay," you hesitantly admit, "just feeling a bit under the weather. i'm so sorry for making you wait."

you downplay your ailment, though you can never fully deceive hanbin; his perceptive nature sees through your attempt to minimize the situation. the guilt starts settles in.

"It’s alright, i'm coming over," he reassures you with his signature comforting tone. there's not a single trace of annoyance in his voice, even though he's been patiently waiting for you for the past thirty minutes.

"no! it's okay. I know you're busy, and you made time for me to help with studying, and—" you start to babble, but hanbin interrupts with a soft chuckle.

"my schedule's never too packed for you. plus, it gives me an excuse to escape practice." he speaks in that sing-songy voice you adore, prompting a genuine smile from you.

"well, in that case, i'm glad i could rescue you from the clutches of boredom."

he laughs, "exactly. I’m bringing some medication, tea and cuddles."

true to his word, a few minutes later, there's a gentle knock on your door. you’re greeted with a bear hug and whisker dimples.

“how are you feeling beautiful ?” you can't help but grimace at the pet name, your hair's a mess, you’re pretty sure there’s a toothpaste stain on your sweatshirt, and the fever's turned you into a bit of a sweat machine.

"i look awful," you grumble, stealing a quick glance at your reflection in the small corridor mirror. hanbin's eyebrows furrow, he's quick to interrupt your self-critique.

"you always look beautiful to me," he adds, a reassuring smile accompanying his words. he then, presses his palm against your forehead, seamlessly slipping into concerned-mom-mode. his eyes pop wide, and his lips pull a total 'o' move – the classic hanbin surprise face.

"you're burning up!" he exclaims, guiding you to the couch with a gentle urgency, concerned that standing might tire you out even more. your dizziness was palpable; even reaching the front door felt like a monumental effort.

"did you eat something since this morning?" hanbin questions while putting the grocery bags on the kitchen island, his focus shifting to the small pharmacy bag.

"no, i felt too nauseous," you admit, your voice laced with a hint of shame.

he pauses, worry etched across his features, but he swiftly transforms it into a warm beam, the last thing he wants is to make you feel bad. "no worries, love. let's get you cozy first,"

he disappears into your room, returning with a fluffy blanket and a pile of cushions. he arranges the cushions, making sure they cradle you just right. the blanket, soft and inviting, is draped over you, and he tucks its edges gently, creating a cozy nest.

you can't help but admire his simple yet caring gestures. there's a warmth in his eyes, a quiet assurance that makes you feel secure.

"better?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

“yes, thanks bin, you're an angel” you grab his hand, trying to convey your appreciation as best as you can — can’t risk a kiss in your current state. hanbin takes your hand in his, and kisses each of your knuckles softly, you feel like your heart might explode. in moments like these, you wonder how you got this lucky.

“no need to thank me, now, you need to take your medication…" he makes his way to the kitchen and rummages through the grocery bags, revealing an array of medicine.

he hands you a cup of water along with a few pills and another cup filled with a suspiciously white liquid. "i know it looks like a lot, but the pharmacist promised it should work wonders,"

you nod reluctantly, eyeing the medicine-filled cup. you take a sip of the chalky liquid, the taste makes your face scrunch up in immediate disgust.

"ugh, it's gross," you whine, hanbin chuckles at your distaste.

"you did it! now, the water to wash away the icky aftertaste," he hands you the water with an encouraging smile. "bottoms up!”

you manage a small grin, appreciating his encouragement, and with a final gulp, you conquer the medicine ordeal.

"now, about the nausea, how about a little snack, you can’t take more medicine on an empty stomach" hanbin suggests, you manage a weak nod, grateful for his attention. as he heads back to the kitchen, you can't shake the lingering discomfort; the idea of ingesting any food makes you feel even more nauseous but you don’t want to discourage your boyfriend.

he returns with a plate of crackers and slices of apple, “you don’t have to finish it all,” he hands you the fork with an encouraging nod then turns on the TV and puts on your comfort show, in the hopes that having distraction will make it easier for your stomach to handle the meal.

hanbin watches you eat with a mix of hope and concern, his eyes searching for signs of improvement. after a few bites, your stomach rumbles, and you reluctantly set down your fork. he doesn't want to force you to eat but on the other hand that the lack of nutrition might make you feel worse.

"just one more bite, okay?" hanbin insists, his voice soft. instead of waiting for your response, he picks up a piece of apple and brings it to your lips, offering it with a reassuring smile. "small bites. we'll take it slow."

you take a deep breath before taking another miniscule bite, but as hanbin's hopeful gaze meets yours, the nausea suddenly intensifies. without warning, you get up abruptly, rushing to the bathroom as your stomach rebels. your boyfriend follows, concern etched on his face. you wish he didn’t but he holds your hair gently as you vomit, the sound echoing in the small space.

“i'm so sorry," each retch is accompanied by a twinge of shame, intensified by the fact that fever has left you a bit delirious. you can't help but shed a few tears. yet, through it all, hanbin remains unwaveringly calm and gentle, rubbing your back soothingly.

"shh, it's okay” he repeats, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. he stays by your side, offering comfort as you navigate through this less-than-pleasant moment. as you finish, he helps you rinse your mouth, his touch gentle against the fatigue and fever.

guiding you back to the living room, he reassures, "take your time," and tucks you under the blanket. "if you're not up for eating, we can try again later."

you stare at his expression, he looks even more concerned than before, and you're not sure why but an odd inclination to cry takes hold. maybe it's because hanbin is right here, taking care of you, even handling the less glamorous parts without seeming annoyed or bothered in the slighest. your thoughts became a muddled blend of exhaustion, an overwhelming swell of gratitude, and an uneasy undercurrent of guilt,

as you struggled to fend off the fever-induced haze in your mind, you hadn't noticed hanbin quietly settling beside you, extending a glass of water. "small sips,"

you accept the glass, your body still tense from the earlier ordeal. "i'm sorry," you repeat while trying to supress the sob that threatens to escape your lips.

"hey, don't be sorry," he says, wiping away a tear with a tenderness that melts the tension, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "i'm the one who made you eat when you didn't feel like it. we'll take it one step at a time, okay?" his soothing voice intensifies your emotions, and you find yourself shedding a few more tears, feeling extra awful with your scratchy throat and stuffy nose.

being the empath that he is, hanbin seems on the brink of tears himself, but he doesn't succumb. instead, he gently rubs your back and strokes your hair, humming your favorite songs in an attempt to help you calm down.

"think you need some sleep," he whispers after a few minutes. you nod weakly, and he helps you shift into a more comfortable position, fluffing the pillows and adjusting the blankets.

"anything hurting?" he asks while tucking you in, his fingers gently ensuring the edges of the blankets cocoon you snugly.

"my whole body is aching," you murmur, the exhaustion evident in your voice. moments later, hanbin returns from the kitched with warm heat packs, their comforting weight carefully arranged on your body. as he tends to you, the furrow on his brow and his careful, deliberate movements betray the emotional toll it takes on him to witness you in discomfort. he refrains from asking more questions, not wanting to exhaust you or burden you; he still feels a bit guilty from the ealier nausea ordeal.

before he even gets the chance to check on you again, you've already drifted off to sleep. when you slowly open your eyes two hours later, hanbin is still hovering over you, changing the wet cloth on your forehead with a fresh, cool one.

"hey sleepyhead, feeling better?" he asks, gently stroking your cheek. you nod slowly, his cool hand soothing your warm face.

now that your mind is clearer and the fever has gone down, you feel the shame settle in — you've never been this vulnerable in front of hanbin, you know he doesn't mind taking care of you but you feel sorry nonetheless.

"thank you again, for taking care of me, i was a complete mess earlier," you shyly blurt out.

"it's what i'm here for my love," in response, he graces you with that infectious smile, reminiscent of fluffy clouds and blooming spring flowers.

hanbin leaves your side momentarily but returns with a steaming mug of ginger tea, its comforting aroma filling the room.

"here, this might help you feel even better," he says, handing you the mug. the warmth of the tea and his comforting presence start to chase away the stiffness in your body.

hanbin settles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace.

"You know," he starts with a mischievous glint in his eye, "you owe me. i've been exposed to your germs," you chuckle and hanbin's relieved to see you laugh.

"i don't mind as long as I get to cuddle you like this," you say, sinking deeper into the embrace.

"even when I'm all sweaty?"

"you did it for me, i don't see why i wouldn't do it for you," you say, your tone light but filled with genuine affection.

hanbin seems a bit taken aback by your response. even though he spends his time taking care of the people around him, accepting the same level of care from others has always been a bit challenging for him. it's as if he fears it might compromise his dependable attitude. however, ever since you started dating, he's been gradually getting used to the idea and the same goes for you — taking care of each other even in the messiest moments felt more natural.

"you've got yourself a deal. just promise you won't judge the sweaty, sickly version of me too harshly."

you playfully roll your eyes, "bring it on, i'm ready for it warts and all,"

with a smirk, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i'll hold you to that."

[knoepfl]

Shadows of Fear

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) and Reader

Trigger Warnings: This story contains themes of fear, panic attacks, hallucinations, and emotional vulnerability, involving the effects of a fear-inducing substance. Please proceed with caution if these topics may be distressing.

Masterlist

Words: 819

The door creaked open as the reader stepped into Jonathan Crane's lab. The air was heavy, laden with the scent of chemicals, and an unsettling quiet enveloped the space.

“Jon?” she called softly, her voice barely rising above the stillness. An unease settled in her stomach as she glanced around the cluttered workspace, her heart racing at the sight of broken vials and scattered papers.

As she moved deeper into the lab, she spotted Jonathan hunched over a table, trembling violently. Panic surged through her, and she rushed to his side, concern clawing at her insides.

“Jonathan,” she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes shot open, wide and filled with terror, darting around the room as if he were seeing phantoms. “Stay back!” he gasped, his breath coming in quick, frantic bursts. “You can’t be here! They’ll take you!”

“Jon, it’s just me,” she said softly, her heart breaking at his distress. “You’re safe. You’re in your lab. Look at me.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. His gaze was unfocused, as if he were trapped in a nightmare. “No, no! I can’t let you—” His hands shook violently, and he gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white with fear.

“Jonathan,” she urged, leaning closer, her heart aching for him. “Please, just listen to my voice. I’m here for you. I’m real.”

He recoiled from her, eyes wide with terror. “You’re just a thread! A figment! You’ll leave me just like everyone else!” His voice was trembling, panic rising as the fear toxin warped his perception.

“No, I won’t,” she insisted, her voice steady and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone.”

He pressed himself against the wall, the fear consuming him. “I’m not worth it. I can’t lose you!” His voice broke, the desperation clawing at his insides.

“You’re not a monster,” she said gently, stepping closer but keeping a careful distance. “You’re Jonathan Crane, the man I love. You need to fight this.”

His gaze flickered toward her, confusion and fear mingling in his eyes. “But what if you’re not real?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“I am real,” she replied softly, locking her eyes with his. “I love you. Focus on that. I’m right here with you.”

Desperate to bridge the gap between them, she stepped closer, reaching out to cup his face in her hands, grounding him in the moment. “Look at me, Jon. I’m right here.”

The shadows in his mind began to shift, the fog slowly lifting as he searched her eyes for reassurance. “You love me?” he asked, his voice fragile.

“Yes, I do,” she confirmed, her heart racing. “I’m here, and I won’t leave you. You’re not alone in this.”

As he leaned closer, he faltered, tears brimming in his eyes. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his vulnerability laid bare.

“Always,” she promised, cradling him gently, her hands moving to embrace him fully. “You can trust me. We’ll get through this together.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him close, feeling the tension in his body begin to ease. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, whispering, “I’m real. I’m right here, and I won’t let you go.”

His trembling slowed as he leaned into her embrace, surrendering to the warmth and safety she offered. The fear that had gripped him began to recede, replaced by her steady presence.

“I’m so scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “What if I lose you?”

“You won’t,” she assured him, holding him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”

As he melted into her, the remnants of the fear toxin faded, revealing the man she loved beneath the turmoil. He took a deep, shuddering breath, finally feeling the weight of his fears lift.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You’ll never be alone,” she promised, cradling him closer against her, her heartbeat steady and soothing. “I’m here for you, now and always.”

As he gathered himself, a flicker of his usual cool demeanor returned. He straightened up slightly, trying to regain his composure, a hint of his trademark confidence shining through. “I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m fine now. Just a slight… mishap.”

She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “You know, I love this softer side of you, Jon. It’s okay to let your guard down with me.”

His expression faltered for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes before he smiled, albeit weakly. “Softness isn’t really my thing.”

“Maybe it should be,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “You’re allowed to be vulnerable with me. I love you just the way you are—fears and all.”

In that moment, surrounded by the shadows of his fears, Jonathan realized that the strength of her love had banished the darkness. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united against the fears that threatened to tear them apart.

[doiefics]

work can wait for other days

pairing: baekhyun x afab!reader

prologue: what could possibly surprise baekhyun more than discovering you at work on a typical day, but well, he's a gangster

genre: gangster!baekhyun +  established relationship!au + fluff + crack

wordcount: 1,000

warnings: pregnancy + very slight violence

It was a typical Thursday, late in the morning. The commute was rather sluggish, but perhaps it was nothing compared to everyone's speed at work.

They were not to blame, for any exciting thing, no matter how small or big, was always distracting enough.

You see, the brainstorming process starts even before the work at hand is done and dusted, maybe like already drooling over that tiramisu for dessert when your plate barely has starters on it. 

For the majority of people, it was a Friday's worth of waiting, but you were just as impatient and eager—but not because it was the weekend.

As you obstinately paced up and down the waiting area, you were fairly certain that you were irking the receptionist.

However, everything came to an abrupt stop even before the train of your flawless thoughts could reach the first junction.

It was "pretty loud for a hospital." You said these things to yourself in a low voice as you joined the other human meerkats, their necks reaching as far as they could and their minds unusually interested.

Your senses lately appear to be much more perceptive. 

An array of about half a dozen black cars, quick in speed and quick to hit the breaks, creating those overwhelmingly annoying screeching sounds, were to be seen.

Accompanied by a ridiculous number of men, guns appeared like toys in whosr hands. The next thing you knew, the front glass at the hospital was shattered, and even though it was both chaotic and intimidating, you watched this without a look of worry on your face because you were used to witnessing similar happenings. 

"What is he doing over here?" You weren't concerned until now, noticing a strangely familiar face amid the towering, intimidating, strong males. 

Before he could even take off his charcoal black Ray Ban shades, more men were at the scene, dressed in suits and shining leather shoes, wrists with expensive timepieces, you see, like any of those other rich men.

"This wasn't needed, we already negotiated that with you." One of them started pleading and rubbing his hands in front of the Ray-Ban guy, but you knew him too well to be able to predict his next action. 

He sighed. Dramatically. 

"Would be a shame if some killings were to happen at a place like this." He cursed, rolling his eyes and glancing around the hospital. The receptionist, who was in the middle of making a phone call, suddenly halted the process at his gaze. He smirked.

Okay, now that was unnecessary. 

The next thing you knew, he rolled the sleeves of his fancy blue shirt as his men basically yeeted away the other ones. You were sure more drama would ensue inside the closed chambers. Cliche power scenes like those in the movies.

"You really had to be here today, idiot!" You blurted it out, quietly, but not quite for the man's ear to miss it. The man would have been furious and snarky after hearing what you blurted out, but it all vanished at the sight of you. Considering that he was in the middle of attending to business, he was equally as astonished to see you here. 

"Y/N?" He was perplexed. This was the time one could normally find you at work. 

"Don't tell me you broke your phone again." You shook your head as his hands traced to his pockets, finding nothing but a severely cracked iPhone.

He signalled his men, with a flick of his fingers to continue with whatever they were here for. His eyes shifted like those of a five-year-old who just destroyed a pricey vase with his football as he turned back to face you.

"Don't give me that look." The scary man was scared of you.

To get the two of you to a more peaceful location quickly, you grabbed hold of his wrist. If you didn't, it wouldn't be long before gossip-hungry eyes began their customary camera recordings and active involvement on online forums. Picking up what seemed like a report from one of the desks. You had waited long enough. 

"This isn't time for paperwork, why are you here?" The man was chatty as usual.

"I told you about this hospital and its trashy director last week, right? Tough time extracting my money back from him." He went on.

"I didn't want any guns involved in the first place." And he never stopped.

"Really has the balls to come and plead at my face when it has already been about-"

"Baekhyun can you not keep quiet for a second, at least?" In his habitual pout, he attempted to cram his head within the papers before you hastily closed them, overwhelmed with unfamiliar feelings.

"I just hope your children don't end up being as chatty as you are." You crossed your arms and made every effort to keep your face expressionless. 

"Family planning all of a sudden?" Baekhyun was confused, again.

"You might be a big scary gangster or something, but did someone ever tell you you're just as dumb." You laughed at his bumbling expression.

"Wait!" His mouth was hanging wide, and his eyes were sparkling from the bliss he was experiencing. He simply wanted to be sure, and he wanted to be sure so much. 

"Are we.." He stopped. "We're having a baby," As he drew his body nearer, his hands instinctively sought your stomach.

"Well, not just a baby." You raised your eyebrow. 

"We're having twins?" He was basically screaming out of sheer joy.

"We are definitely not going to be quiet, right, guys?" He said as he bent down, placing a quick peck on your tummy.

"Don't worry, Mumma, you're gonna love us either way." He winked, standing up again, this time closer to your face, resting his forehead against yours.

Yet another rackety thud was to be heard, business was being taken care of properly. Baekhyun took a quick glance at the side.

"Maybe work can wait for some other day." 

masterlist please refrain from plagiarising, translating or posting outside of this platform

[llamagoddessofficial]

Not very Christmassy, but when inspiration strikes, what can you do? Here’s some more Bog God Skull.

---

The Black Bogs were a terrifying enough place as it was, in the day. Walking into the wall of endless fog that encased the land was something only the brave, stupid, and/or local could muster the mental strength to do. The sounds, the smells... unless you’d been through there yourself, entirely alone, there was no way to describe the horrible creeping dread that surrounded your being.

... But then the night. 

The lack of sound was the most frightening thing. At first. If you looked into the darkness too long... you would begin to see and hear things that weren’t there. Whispers, cries that you hoped were an animal, flickering lights of long-dead villages in the far distance.

You had to walk through the bog at night. You didn’t want to, but it was the only way to get home. Your little lantern was all you had to protect yourself from the oppressive darkness. You walked as briskly as you could, without tripping, shawl wrapped tight around you and eyes set forward.

...

There were sounds behind you. Barely perceptible. A gentle rustling, the occasional soft splash, easily mistaken for a lost frog or a shift in the land as the deep waters below buckled under the mud false floors. But... a keen ear would notice that the sounds were following you. 

They had been following you for the past twenty minutes.

... You came to a stop, taking a deep breath. As soon as you stilled, the sounds stilled too. Waiting for you.

... You turned around, lifting your lantern high and shining it behind you- immediately, in the near distance, the edges of a massive shape quickly but silently shifted back from the edge of the light, out of view.

You shuddered.

...

“... Is that you?” You asked, voice small, quivering. The sound wouldn’t travel far... but you knew it didn’t need to. He was close.

... Nothing. There was little akin to the horrible silence of this place. The only sounds were bubbling, rotting mud and muskeg. There was very little ambient life- few things could live there, and those that could would rarely dare.

“... Could... could you walk with me, instead of behind me?” You said, eyes straining to pick movement out of the darkness. “Please? It’s dark. I-I’m... I'm scared.”

...

It was quiet, for a few moments. You worried he didn’t want to show himself, and you’d have to travel the whole distance like this, all but being stalked. But you suddenly heard movement- then slowly, very slowly, his massive body moved into view.

The God of the Black Bog, in all his horrible glory. Teeth, jagged spine, hunched back, huge horns branching out like the hands of drowning men reaching for the sky. The light from your flickering lantern danced across him, warping and stretching the deep shadows in the crevices of his bones. Muck and lichen and shreds of matted fur clung to his heaving body, how could anything that existed be so big? He was a remnant of a long forgotten era, when creatures towered over the earth. He was walking in the muck beside the path, you didn’t know if it was the magic of his dominion over this place that made him immune to the dangers of the deep mud, but either way, he traversed it with little to no issue. He was so tall... drawing up beside you, you were barely the height of a single one of his stained tree trunk legs. 

There was a tiny bell, tied to the side of one antler. The source of the gentle noise that often was your final warning before a terrible fate occurred.

He didn’t have his signature red eye. Perhaps he extinguished it at night. But... you got the feeling he was looking at you anyway, peering out from those warping dark sockets high above you.

... But he just waited beside you. 

“Thank you.” You said, softly. You started walking, and so did he. Silently lumbering alongside you.

You didn’t know when you picked up this... 'walking partner'. There was no one incident, the feeling of being watched had just slowly mounted and mounted as the weeks went on, until certain parts of the walk through the bog would literally make your hair stand on end in terror. Especially when you heard that tiny, gentle bell, ringing out like a water droplet. You didn’t know when he’d first started following... but you definitely remembered the first time you saw him, his twisted silhouette in the near distance, burning red eye transfixed on you.

He wasn’t always there. At least... you thought he wasn’t always following. Some days, the feeling of being watched was so strong you couldn’t breathe, you were convinced you could hear his footsteps through the wastes and feel washes of his hot breath. And some days, you got nothing but a strange uneasy sensation in your gut. Maybe he tracked you every day? You’d never know.

... He very rarely walked beside you. He didn’t seem to want to be seen. The first time he’d walked beside you, you hadn’t said a word, utterly terrified by the casual presence of the God of the Black Bogs. He wasn’t exactly known for being benevolent, after all.

But the weeks went on, and nothing happened to you. No great misfortune befell you. In fact, by this point, you were the only person in your village who hadn’t had some kind of ‘incident’ out in the bog. Everyone else had stories of losing the path, nearly drowning after falling through a false floor, infected stings from tiny invisible insects and almost following a ghost to their death.

... You didn’t know what you’d done to earn it. But it seemed like, for whatever reason, you had his protection.

...

You couldn’t help but glance up at him, every now and then. His great skull wasn’t facing you. Since he so rarely showed himself, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to draw in his appearance.

...

... Then your lantern went out.

You let out a little surprised sound, as the pitch black swallowed both of you. Crap, you hadn't re-oiled it when you were in town, had you? You rattled the old thing, letting out a sound of frustration. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

"... Well. I... don't know how I'm getting home, now." You tried not to let your voice shake.

...

A sound left him. It made you jump- it was deep, and soft, breathy. Like a bear exhaling. It travelled through your whole body.

...

A light appeared in front of you. Just out of arm’s reach. You blinked, your eyes immediately focusing onto it- a tiny blue shape, wobbling as if it were made of water, small and sky blue but emitting an unearthly ultramarine glow. It made no sound, and emitted no warmth, simply flickering in the still air before you.

... Immediately, you knew what it was. Your eyes widened, sparkling in the ethereal glow.

“... A will o’ wisp.” You whispered, quietened by your awe.

It was beautiful. Like a ghost. Nobody knew if they were spirits, signs of a spirit, or just a trick of the eye- you never thought you’d see one, not without risking great danger. Will o’ wisps never came close to the path.

Another popped up, a few paces behind it. And another, just behind that. Another, more, and more... they came into existence in a way you could only describe as the opposite of a candle being blown out. Whipping lightly, then settling into softly flickering states. They trailed off, out of the nothingness, one after the other, illuminating the path with their phantom bodies. A seemingly endless row of little glowing ghosts.

... They... were on the path. Showing you the way to go.

...

You looked back up at him. He had seemed a stranger in the oil light, but his great body looked so at home in the ghostly blue glow.

“D... did you...?”

...

He began to walk. You didn’t waste time, or ask more questions, you just moved to keep up with him. The will o’ wisps extinguished as you drew close enough to touch them, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.

“... Thank you.” You said. “They’re beautiful.”

No response.

...

It took a few, silent minutes... but soon, you reached the end of the wisp trail. The lights of the town were in clear view, warm and orange and alive. Just like every time, there seemed to be an invisible line in the ground that he refused to cross... he stopped at that line, watching you walk on. Perhaps he could feel where his magic began to thin.

... You turned, after a few paces, looking back at him. Staring into the endless black sockets that drew in your very Soul. His jagged, terrible silhouette, bones and rotting fur... he didn’t seem part of the living world. He seemed made for that bog, that place of death and sickness, a part of its horrible landscape.

He was its God. But was he the bog, or was the bog him?

“... I... like when you walk beside me. I like seeing you.” You said, voice carrying much further now that the mists were receding at the fringes of his territory. “I hope that’s okay.”

...

His skull lifted. A fraction. Surprise? There was no possible way to tell. 

...

... He turned around, lumbering back into the wall of fog. In a few steps, he was gone... a great whale instantly disappearing into the deepest, darkest ocean. 

You faintly heard his bell.

... You turned back to the town, continuing on your journey home. The ground began to harden underfoot, and colour returned to the grasses. Soon, the path was gone, and you were back in the world of humans.

...

You hoped you would see him again, tomorrow.

[beechbloom]

Seeing A Heart

Pairing: Dazai x gn!reader

Word count: 0,7k

Cw: Dazai sadness :(

Dazai is a beautiful thing in your life, and you want him to see that

You’d felt rather down today. As for why, you weren’t sure. It simply seemed sadness had decided today was a good day to take ahold of your heart.

Trying to escape said feeling, you decided to go for a quiet stroll around a less busy part of the city. The river stayed your companion as you passed trees, benches, and the occasional person – all tinted with the soft orange of the sky. You stopped by a railing, looking out upon the water. It felt lonely, yet strangely fulfilling, spending time to take in what you normally took for granted.

“What’s a lovely something like you doing out here all by your lonesome?”

You smile, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Admiring the things I’ve been given in life.”

Dazai shifts, letting his thumbs rest in his pockets. “Hn, then perhaps I should leave you be?” he ponders. “The sin a man like me carries would surely be enough to taint your view of the world.” You can hear the humor he attempts to paint his words in, yet it doesn’t reach them fully. If he didn’t believe what he said, would he not be leaning on the railing beside you?

Your eyes meet his frame, and despite his words, you see nothing that could taint your vision. The wind gently plays with his wavy dark hair, and the sky – now bright with color – outlines his body so elegantly that you’d sooner say you were in the presence of a man carrying God’s blessing than a sinner. There is nothing ugly in your view, though there is sadness in those eyes. A deep pool of melancholy trying to hide behind the quirk of a lip.

"Quite the opposite. I believe you enhance it.”

He blinks at you before an airy laugh leaves him. “While I know my outside can be rather appealing, I believe my inside... fails to match it.” An almost unreadable look crosses his eyes. “You of all people should know that.”

A sigh leaves your nose. He’d bore his truth to you before, revealing a dark past riddled with iniquity. He worked hard to build up a persona free of it all, yet in quiet moments like this, he showed you his thoughts – the threads in his head that tied him down. You know that if he didn’t want you to, you wouldn’t see a thing. And yet here he was, uncovering them in this moment so you could. It was a sign of trust. And so, you figured it would only be right for you to give him your honesty in return.

You take a step toward him, gently letting one hand cradle his. The other goes to one side of his face, barely touching it. «If you believe there is something wrong with people seeing the beauty in you, then I suppose there must be something wrong with me.” There was a sense of vulnerability in sharing something like that, making your cheeks flush a shade of red. Still, you continue, voice firm. “Because I see it plain as day.”

He takes a moment to processes what he's just heard. While you wish to give him time, there's only so much silence you can handle before your embarrassment swallows you. Just as you begin to pull your hand away from his cheek, he gently grabs ahold of it. There’s a small smile on his lips as he sighs, thumb stroking the back of your hand. “You truly are good, [Name].”

You smile, an amused huff leaving you. “Good is about perspective. And from mine, I’d say there’s some in you too. Seeing as you happened to show up here when I was sad and lonely.”

A laugh escapes him. “My, aren’t you perceptive?” He gets closer, face inches from yours. “And what if it truly was coincidence, hm? Can you prove it wasn’t?”

You grab both his hands, grinning. “Either way I’m happy you’re here, so it’s a win for me!”

Your words seem to catch him off guard, face turning thoughtful for a second as he studies yours. Then his expression changes, and you’re graced with something beyond valuable.

A genuine smile.

“Come, I'll escort you home."

You’d seen his truth. You’d seen his thoughts. Yet now, with that smile of his, you felt you were seeing a glimpse of something even more precious.

You were seeing his heart.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Pt. 7

Lydia escapes the house early the next morning, the sun is barely up. Dew on the grass. She needs to think seriously. She's taking a walk around town seeing how far she can get before she gets tired and turns back. The problem is she doesn't think she'll get tired. She thinks she could walk forever, she hasn't had a tour like this before of the town her parents grew up in. The quiet before the storm. She has a relatively normal remembrance of her childhood. Everything after age 10 was what every normal kid did.

She feels like an outsider since this is her first run in with the upside down. She still remembers when she was sat down at 15. When she couldn't take the lies anymore and needed to know the truth of what happened to her dad. She went through all the stages then, she thought they were lying, she felt abandoned by Steve.

But could she blame him? For choosing the world over her?

When her Aunt El lifted her in the air her whole world's perception changed.

She comes across a clearing that is filled with trailers. There's a worn sign on the edge of the block she can't quite read. She picks one at random and decides to sit. She figures they won't be up yet and she needs the rest.

She's zoned out when she hears the deep rumble of a truck snap her into reality. She watches the truck park and a man steps out coming towards her. She puts her head down hoping he isn't going to acknowledge her.

She watches the boots get closer to her until they stop directly in front of her.

"Can I help you with somethin?" A gruff voice asks.

She looks up and is face to face with her favorite person. "Wayne?" She's shocked. Out of all the trailers in all the shitty small towns...

"Yeah? Who are ya?"

"Oh! Um. Um. I'm a friend! Of Eddie's! He um told me I could come here if I needed to."

"Huh," he huffs. "A friend huh?" He rolls his eyes. "Look kid I don't just-"

"I'm Steve's cousin! Steve Harrington. Um I was with both of them and I needed some space."

"Steve huh?" He looks her over. "I can see the resemblance."

He reaches around her and unlocks the door. "Well? Get up. Are you coming in or not?"

She scrambles to her feet.

"Yes! Ok! Thank you!"

She misses the soft smile that crosses his face.

----

She's sitting on the mug drinking some coffee wrapped in a blanket. She feels cozy in here. Pictures of her Pa littered around the place. Pictures she's seen growing up around her own house. She wonders if Wayne would notice her sneak into Pa's room. She needs that blackmail material.

Wayne clears his throat.

"You ok kid? I don't think I've seen you blink once, your eyes are just darting around and it's creeping me out."

"Sorry. Sorry for bothering you too."

"I was gonna drink the coffee anyway. Night shift and all that."

He looks her over again.

"What's wrong kid?"

"Um...well...I've been separated from my parents and the rest of my family. So I came here. Um...it's really complicated. It's just uh- UGH" She pulls her hair. "Have you ever felt like you're losing your mind?"

"Only everyday."

"I just need to get home but it's more complicated because it effects other people. I'm the outsider here and I can't afford to make any wrong moves. I just want to do what's right."

"Well...it sounds like you're doing ok so far. I mean you're thinking of others, you have good intentions. You know what you'd like to do you just need the push to finish it. You're a good kid Lydia."

She tries not to tear up. "Thanks Wayne." She stands up and heads toward the door. "I should head out before anyone notices I'm gone." He walks her out, giving her a pat on the head. She's a little down the lot when she turns around and runs to him. She gives him a big hug.

"Thank you Wayne." She squeezes him tighter. She missed him more than she realized.

"No problem kid." He sends her a soft smile.

-----

When she heads back to the Wheelers she sees Steve and Eddie on the front porch. They're huddled together frantically waving their hands. When they see her they run to her grabbing her into a giant group hug.

"Hey what's all this about?" She laughs.

Steve leans back and hold her chin in one of his hands. Eddie's hand is on her shoulder.

"I woke up first," Steve says. "I went around checking on everyone and I couldn't find you. I woke Eddie up and he didn't know where you were either."

Eddie's hands tightens.

"We thought you got zapped back. We didn't get a chance to say goodbye," his voice is so soft like he is trying not to be upset.

"I'm sorry," Lydia says. "I just wanted to go for a walk. I didn't even think about writing a note or anything."

"Buddy system ok munchkin?"

"We just don't want to lose you, we just got you." The two stare into each other's eyes. Lydia thinks they would forget about her if they didn't have an iron grip on her.

"Right." Lydia says, watching them with fond eyes. "We'll stick together, as a family."

"Right," Steve says.

"As a family." Eddie completes the sentence. Bright smile on his face.

----

AN: guys! Here's the treat I mentioned earlier! I love Wayne so I had to write him. And am I purposefully writing more fluff so I don't have to write the dark stuff which means ultimately the end of the fic? Maybe.

I'll see if my brain wants write more today.

PLEASE comment. Everyone who comments gets a big smooch. Legally by law.

Tags:

@tinyplanet95 @jaytriesstrangerthings

@bookworm0690

[maplesyrupandgt]

Gladiator AU

Giant!Childe + Tiny!Zhongli soft m/m vore story

Silly little Gladiator au ish I've kinda had bouncing around my brain for a while.

Warning for vore under the cut and very mild injury mentions (unrelated to noms)

I will be posting this to my ao3 in a couple days, but this isn't beta read at all so feel free to lmk if you see grammatical errors and stuff ^^

This contains soft romantic stuff at the very end so if you aren't here for ship, you can skip everything after the single dash "-"

5.8k words, complete

Childe stirs with a soft groan, lifting a hand to rub at his cheek. Weird texture. There’s a murmur of voices both surrounding and distant and he sighs as he stares up at the sky. Why is he outside? He definitely fell asleep in a bed last night. He lifts his hand above his face to block the sunlight, squinting at the unfamiliar fingerless glove and bracer he has on. More murmurs, like tiny surprised gasps echo around him and he looks toward the sound, turning his cheek to rest on dusty ground. This is all going to be in his hair-

Huh.. Childe squints a bit, observing the stadium stands. They look familiar, the architecture classically old, like those of the abyss. And they’re packed with people. All a little too far away to make out the details of their faces, but they’re all shifting and making noise. The weirdest thing about it is that he can't tell how far away they are. They seem incredibly distant from his perspective, yet his depth perception reveals just how close they are. Suddenly, a voice rings out, some kind of announcer.

“The Titan is awake!!!” It rings in his ears, echoing through the stadium and Childe’s brows pinch together. He shifts some, listening to the tiny oos and aas from the crowd. Are they responding to him? He sighs, beginning to sit up and listening to the gasps ripple through his audience. With eyes closed, he shakes his head, trying to get all the dust from his hair. “It moves with unprecedented speed!!” The announcer cries and he finally peeks his eyes open again, only to be met with open air.

“Huh..” He says it aloud this time, but his gaze is drawn down when he hears a tiny scream. Oh. And there are the stands, barely coming up to his shoulders now that he’s sitting up. Looking around reveals he’s in some kind of tiny colosseum. A perfectly detailed scale replica- audience included. The inclusion of the people makes Childe think about the first announcement regarding the titan and things start to click into place now.

He laughs in giddy surprise, looking back down over himself. The outfit he wears is familiar to him as that of some ghostly fighters he witnessed in the Abyss. He’s some kind of gladiator then. His vision still sits on his belt and he assumes that’s why he lacks a weapon now. “Who am I fighting?” He murmurs, half to himself as he looks around. He’s expecting another ‘titan’ or some monstrous beast. He scans the stands, then around the dusty floor of the arena.

“May the first challenger enter the ring!” There’s a clanking of a gate being lowered and Childe’s expression falls a bit when he sees it’s one of the tiny doors around the floor of the arena. He’s still seated, but he knows if he were to go stand next to that thing, the door might only come up to the top of his foot. His ankle at most. He leans back on his elbows again, shutting his eyes to relax. He isn't very worried about who his challenger is. But then a tiny familiar voice rises up to him.

“Master Childe?” His eyes flick open and he straightens up, gaze locking onto the one and only illustrious Mr. Zhongli. He’s just as small as the other audience members, yet Childe can see him clearly, decked in similar garb to Childe but with more gilding.

“Zhongli-xiansheng!” He laughs and then he gets the odd sensation of watching the tiny man flinch at the sound of his voice. It's fun to watch the swirling sands at his feet shift with the vibrations of his very speech. He reaches forward, intending to scoop up the tiny being, but Zhongli raises his polearm in a confident move, holding it up in a warning not to touch. “Don't be like that Mr. Zhongli.” He pouts, mindful to lower his volume just for the ‘consultant’.

“I do not wish to be handled. I fear you may underestimate your strength.” The small man replies, squinting against the harsh daylight as he looks around the colosseum. “I suspect they have pitted me against you?”

“You suspect right. Honestly, it's a little disappointing though,” He watches the brunette’s expression pinch, “I wanted more of a challenge.”

“You do not think I can pose a challenge for you?”

“...No offense Xiansheng, but you’re hardly as tall as my little finger.”

Zhongli’s frown deepens, and the little man stands up taller. “Do not forget so quickly that I have fought gods and monsters of great variety.” Childe wonders which of those two categories he falls into. “I will take up this challenge, if only so that they may release me.”

Childe tilts his head at that, but then the miniature version of his friend lifts his wrists up and Childe grows aware of a nearly imperceptible gold chain which binds them, leading back to the door Zhongli came from. In a blink, he can no longer see the chains. “Oh? Why don't I just break us both out of here?”

“I am afraid that would be a fruitless affair. One of us must win for our chains to be dissolved.” Childe looks down at his ankle, feeling a ghost of a weight on it now for a flash before it’s gone again.

“May the fight between the titan and the golden god commence!” The announcer cries and Zhongli lifts his polearm again, resuming his defensive stance. Childe sighs, wondering how quickly he can get this over with then. What is the best way to incapacitate someone so tiny without killing them? He doesn't exactly want to see old Rex dead. Would pinning him down count?

He registers Zhongli is moving toward him now and it's kind of adorable to watch. He doesn't cover ground very quickly, giving Childe plenty of time to review strategies in his mind. The Liyuen is just nearing his hip when Childe decides to make a move. He lifts his hand, summoning a small wave with a flick of his wrist. Zhongli does not pause, summoning a shield with a slash of his polearm that Childe’s hydro flows right around. The ginger frowns, recognizing Zhongli getting near to him. He sends more water, but that tiny shield holds strong. So maybe Zhongli does have some power to back up what he was saying.

Childe doubts the tiny man could manage to kill him so this whole fight is just an effort at incapacitation. The tiny audience is silent, clearly paying close attention to their ‘fight’, but Childe nearly forgets their existence. Zhongli’s near enough to come to a stop and he seems poised to throw that polearm of his.

The giant brings his hand down, slamming it into the ground. Zhongli, shook by the force of it stumbles, a look of surprise taking his expression and then it steels into something more determined. There’s shouts of surprise from the audience with the resulting earthquake and Childe leans his weight onto the hand, finally pushing himself up to a stand. Like this, he simply dwarfs the colosseum. It doesn't even come to his hips in height and all the tiny gasps and cries fade into nothing at this height. It feels like he could stretch up and touch the clouds.

Looking down reveals Zhongli, gazing up at him in some awe. Childe feels a little flutter in his gut and he grins down at the tiny man. He was right about the height; beside his foot, Zhongli doesn't reach his ankle in size. Probably six centimeters tall at most. The man backs away a few paces and Childe wonders how light he is right now. He can't weigh any more than a mora. Even a cicin would dwarf him.

Seeing him down there next to his sandal, Childe realizes that he could end the match very quickly. All it would take was a shift of his weight, a half step forward to take the victory for himself. But he doesn't really see the need to kill Zhongli. Just pinning the tiny man should be good. It would be like stepping on a bug, just light enough not to crush him. He can see the second Zhongli reinforces his shield, arms spreading out at his sides and a tiny breeze of geo shimmer washes over Childe from about his mid calf down. It tickles.

He starts taking the step forward, lifting his foot over Zhongli. The announcer’s voice returns narrating his moves, but he pays it no mind, starting to lower it down. Surprisingly, he doesn't see Zhongli attempting to run away. Instead, crackles of a dust storm gather around his shin and then out comes a meteor. It petrifies his leg from the knee down and Childe’s left with the eerie numbness.

“Woah-” He laughs brightly again, and now he can see Zhongli dashing out from under his sandal. He sets his foot down anyway, feeling how heavy it is. It takes a few seconds for the feeling to fade and by then Zhongli’s thrown his polearm. Pain spikes into his calf and Childe hisses softly, looking down to see the splinter of a weapon embedded in the skin. It doesn't feel that bad. Nothing more than a scratch, but now he looks at the small man, a frown in place. “Come on Xiangsheng. I was gonna go easy on you.”

“I will not back down,” Zhongli looks fierce, ponytail whipping when he moves. Childe bends down, pinching the polearm to tug out of his calf and then snapping it in half. It's easier than breaking a toothpick.

A hush falls over their audience as a growl rings through the air. Even Zhongli’s expression shifts, and he seems a bit unsure hearing it. Childe blushes at the sound himself, horrified at the timing of it.

But then he thinks about it. “...You know Xiansheng, I’ve just thought of a new way to win.” He notes softly, dropping down to his knees. His weight falls quickly enough to cause an earthquake on impact and he gets a small thrill as watches the very god of geo fall to the ground with the force of it. Zhongli is still pushing back up to a stand when Childe’s hand snaps out.

In a flash, he has grabbed Zhongli. And this time without any possible opportunity for interference. His audience gasps again and Childe is quick to lift Zhongli up to his eyeline. He holds him gripped in a fist, fingers concealing everything from the shoulders down. He can just feel the tiny squirming efforts against his fingertips, but there’s no way Zhongli could break the giant’s hold. Childe knows he hasn't had enough downtime to summon another meteor either.

“I yield.” The small man goes limp in Childe’s hold, apparently deciding some kind of polite draw is necessary here. Childe pauses at that, sighing softly.

“Really?” He looks around, waiting for the disembodied announcement about his victory.

“Truly. You have this win.”

“But that’s so boring.” Childe sighs and Zhongli is about to speak again in defense of his decision judging by his facial expression when the announcement finally comes.

“Victory goes to the Titan!!!” And the crowd bursts into cheers, but Childe is all too aware that the chain on his ankle still binds him. He frowns, uncurling his fingers and holding Zhongli flat on his palm.

“Are you free?” He ask softly, squinting at those tiny wrists. Zhongli is busy catching his breath, but eventually he lifts his arms, showing off the golden cuffs still imprisoning him.

“I don’t understand.” The Liyuen’s expression is tender with confusion and a bit of betrayal, “I was told a duel would be the way to freedom.”

“Titan, you must go to the empress with your victory!” The voice instructs before Childe can reply and he raises a brow, looking back to the stands for a moment when he is directly addressed.

To his surprise, he spots a small platform containing a small throne and seated on it is yet another familiar face. He stares for a few seconds before shuffling closer. He feels out of place for the first time here, knelt before this tiny little platform with Zhongli still held in his hand. He was right about how weightless the man is, barely heavier than a grape. All these tiny humans around him and they probably collectively weigh less than Childe at the moment.

Zhongli is rubbing his brow upon realizing who the ‘empress’ is.

“Zhongli~ That was so impressive!” Hu Tao claps delightedly, kicking her feet some. They don't reach the floor. “I didn't think you’d really be able to take on Titan Tartaglia!” She says the title like it's something renowned. Childe certainly has never heard it before and he somewhat hates the alliterative choice.

“Miss Hu, I thought I would get my freedom.” Zhongli’s tone has taken on a sincere weight, tired and used to the antics of his boss.

“Oh, but that was only guaranteed if you won! Mr Mountain here won, so now it’s up to our audience what happens. Or me~” She giggles, “The giant-”

“I have a name.”

“...ahem. The giant won the spar, but the fate of his prey will be decided by the empress and audience.” She speaks with confidence and Childe frowns deeply, watching Zhongli flinch at the word ‘prey.’

“And how do I get free?” Childe asks.

“Well you’ll have to fulfill the judgment of the audience of course! You gave them some pretty creative ideas for how you might deal with your opponent, so between you and me,” And she cups her hands around her mouth like she’s sharing a secret before speaking with just the same volume as before, if not more, “They’ll probably want you to finish him.”

“Excuse me?” Zhongli says at the same time as Childe mutters, “What!?”

He forgets his volume and though Hu Tao’s grin remains in place, the tiny woman lifts her hands to cover her ears.

“Sorry big guy, I don't make the rules.” Hu Tao shrugs, and Childe is sure that she, in fact, does make the rules.

Childe guesses he really was gonna go through with eating Zhongli if he hadn't chosen to yield, even if he hadn't said it before so he can’t blame her for such brutal rules in place. Maybe he would have halted once Zhongli was in his mouth. What would that have felt like?

His small opponent is now actively standing on his palm, walking to the edge of it to jump off onto the platform. Hu Tao seems amused by this, and before Zhongli can even get near her, guards rush out, gripping the tall adeptus by his shoulders and holding him still.

“What is the audience’s judgment?” He asks and Zhongli gives him a pleading look, as if begging him to take back the question.

“Oo, let's find out!” Hu Tao claps again and the crowd goes silent. It’s eerie how quiet things are. “What do the people want our victor to do?” She asks and the question is echoed by the announcer. It's quiet a few seconds longer before he hears a cry.

“Eat him!” It’s one voice, followed by another shout somewhere else of, “Show him mercy!” “Crush him!” Then the crowd's cries grow louder until it's a roar of opinions, some inventive and horrible. One particular chant of freedom emerges yet Hu Tao’s eyes seem to be growing wider, sparkling with amusement this whole time.

“Well,” She says softly, and the crowd falls quiet instantly, “I’m thinking we have a winner Mr. Titan.”

Childe bites his lip, wondering if he will have to debate any of her wording. It is the thing that will gain him his freedom and he has a deep feeling that things will work out just fine. Zhongli is fighting to tear out of the guards’ grip, but they hold him strong, marching him to the edge of the platform. Raising a brow at this, Childe looks back to Hu Tao.

The tiny undertaker sticks her hand out, then gives a thumbs up. Childe sighs in relief, starting to sit up, but Zhongli’s response is quite erratic. The tiny man lifts a shield and the two guards on him are forced away. Hu Tao clicks her tongue, waving Childe back down.

“Don't you know colosseum etiquette silly?” She asks, “Thumbs up is bad! It means you have to finish him~” She pumps her fists dramatically as she speaks and Childe immediately objects.

“But the people's vote ruled for his freedom?” And Zhongli is nodding adamantly. Up on this platform, he can't jump down without injuries it seems. Childe lifts his hand, aiming to help, but Zhongli twists to glare at it, lifting a newly summoned polearm up to wave at him. Childe had wondered why he hadn't objected, but he can now see the slim gold collar preventing him from being a part of this conversation.

“Ah, but the judgment is decided by the audience and the empress!” Hu Tao shakes her head like this is clear. “Zhongli’s fate is sealed, right in there!” And she points to Childe’s core, which decides to growl just then.

The man curls on himself, eyes wide. “So you made that decision all by yourself.” He glares at her, but she is fearless.

“Well, not really. At least a three eights of my people wanted it to go this way!” She shakes her head, “And my vote counts as a fourth of theirs.”

“You were the deciding vote Hu Tao.” He deadpans and she giggles again, waving to her guards to grab Zhongli again when the consultant’s shield fails.

“I guess I was. But you were planning to eat him anyway~ Isn't this just perfect? You get a snack and your freedom!” Childe wonders if the woman is crazy.

“If I crushed your precious audience, you’d have a lot more funerals to arrange,” He threatens or maybe just negoriates by her standards, and she tuts at him. He’s at least thirty times her size and she tuts at him!

“Nono. You wouldn't be allowed to do that. You can just take your prize and leave.” Childe groans, dropping his forehead down to rest on the platform. From here, he can hear Zhongli’s growls of frustration.

“You have to free him first.” He finally mutters, lifting his head again and bringing his palm up in front of the platform for Zhongli.

The Liyuen man turns to view him with wide eyes, and he seems tired again. Hu Tao hums as she thinks about it, then she looks up to meet Childe’s gaze.

“You pinky promise you’ll eat him?” She asks, holding out her tiny hand, pinky extended. Childe frowns at the words.

“I take a pinky promise very seriously Empress. You know me well.” He grumbles, but he reaches out and Childe knows if Zhongli had a tail right now, it would be lashing furiously. The snezhnayan ends up hooking his pinky over her whole forearm, but she shakes it up and down and when he’s pulled his hand away, he gets to watch the empress skip over to Zhongli. She reaches up to pinch his cheek before she reaches down to his neck. She slides her fingertips across it and in a poof of golden dust, the chain around his neck is gone.

“Hu Tao, this is unreasonable.” Zhongli begins immediately, angry at her antics. She ignores his words as she lowers her hands to his wrists. Two more small poofs and the chains are fully gone. Zhongli rubs his wrists, continuing his speech the whole time. “Our deal was that I should be freed if I fought him. You cannot ask him to eat me, that is signing my very death warrant. Have I not an amicable employee?” His words go on even as the guards walk him to the end of the platform and he’s only silenced with a soft grunt as Hu Tao quite bodily shoves him off the platform. He drops the couple feet down onto Childe’s palm, finding himself on his hands and knees and more than a little shaken.

Childe can feel the nearly imperceptible shivers wracking the man and he does feel a little bad. Maybe he can make it gentle for Zhongli. Even if the Liyuen did stab him.

“Eat up, big boy!” Hu Tao calls, settling back onto her throne and Childe cringes at that title. Her creative nicknames are particularly grating. He lifts his ‘prey’ up to his face, looking over him.

“Childe?” Zhongli’s tiny golden gaze is desperately imploring him to rethink this, but they both know it’s a sealed deal.

“Sorry Xiansheng… I made a pinky promise.” He shrugs, bringing his palm to rest the side against his lips. Zhongli’s shivering increases and Childe curls his fingers a bit before he pulls his hand away again. “How do you want me to do this?” He asks, hoping for the smaller’s preference. He doubts Zhongli wants him to do this in any way, but he knows the smaller is a constantly thoughtful man and will have processed some best idea.

Zhongli is quiet for a few long seconds, glancing between Childe’s lips and eyes. “Perhaps you merely need to hold me in your mouth. That is how you eat sweets, no? I am certainly about as bite sized to you as candy I’m sure.”

Childe wants to agree, but he’s sure Hu Tao wouldn't qualify that, “Those get swallowed eventually when they melt.” He replies, watching the little wilting reaction, “You don't eat gum, just chew it. And I doubt you want to be chewed.”

“That would certainly be a swifter way to finish me.” Zhongli sounds morose now and Childe pouts, lifting his free hand up. With a precise and gentle touch, he rubs the tiny god’s spine. He can feel just how the man leans into his touch and the inkling of guilt returns. At least the peanut gallery is silent for once.

“I won’t be chewing you Zhongli. But, I probably shouldn't take you in dry, so I’ll need to lick at you some.”

“I have decided I do not enjoy being your sweet-heart in this way.” Childe can't help but laugh in surprise at the pun. “Will you wake up soon, love?”

“What was that?”

“It's nothing.” And in fact it feels quite like that. Childe can't quite remember what was spoken after the pun.

“Hey, Dragonspine!” The little empress shouts and Childe glances back down, remembering her presence. “You made a pinky promise. Give the people what they want!”

There’s a nearly automated return of sound to the stadium, tiny cheers crying for his final move.

“Oh hush. I’m getting there,” He huffs.

“This isn't supposed to be a tragedy! It’s a drama! Give us action! Fear! Intimidation!” Hu Tao calls valiantly, and a roar of cheers comes back. Childe glances to Zhongli again and the man seems to have composed himself with some tiny deep breaths. “If you don't do well enough, you might have to stay longer.” Ugh.

“Any preference?” Childe asks one last time, and the adeptus shakes his head, closing tiny golden eyes and surrendering to his fate.

Well, if it's what the people want… Childe shifts, halting his petting and instead lightly pinching Zhongli’s sides. The man’s eyes flash open and he starts to protest but Childe lifts him off his palm, bringing him up above his face. He can feel the tiny racing pants, but this time, he ignores the small guilty voice in favor of leaning into his predatory side. Childe feels the very second the tiny man regrets his submission.

“Wait!” Zhongli objects suddenly, smacking tiny open palms against Childe’s fingertips. Things aren't moving at his pace at all anymore.

Childe smirks at him, listening to the roaring cheers as he brings the little squirming body up above his face. He tilts his head back, opening up his mouth and sticking his tongue out to catch the little form. He releases Zhongli, dropping the tiny man down.

Childe feels the miniscule hands slap against his lip before gravity wins, pulling the golden god inside his mouth. He levels his head, feeling the small weight distinctly on his tongue. Zhongli must be disoriented for a second, but Childe feels him turn and start to crawl along his tongue, fighting for a chance to get back outside. The titan is slow to close his mouth, letting Zhongli get as close to his teeth as he safely can before he clicks his teeth shut.

Soft cries of frustration make it out past his lips before he seals those shut too and he looks down to give a grin to the empress. She’s on the edge of her seat, clapping gleefully. At least, she’s enjoying the show.

Childe has never had a mouthful fight back like this, and it's kind of thrilling. He can feel Zhongli’s hands desperately applying pressure to his teeth and the little man’s fingers explore around Childe’s gums in the dark as he seeks a way out. Childe shifts his tongue, hearing the little yelp of shock in response. He can hear Zhongli’s voice quite clearly and he wonders if that’s normal for sounds produced inside the mouth. It's not as though he’s ever had something inside to know before.

“Childe, I implore you to rethink this!” He pleads and in response, the ginger shifts his tongue again, sliding it forward to pin the small body against his front teeth. He laps at him this way, letting his saliva pool some to soak Zhongli. The little Liyuen seems to be making an effort to struggle, but Childe barely notices. He creates gentle suction in his mouth, pulling the small body onto his tongue once more and pressing him up against the point where his palates meet. The feeling of Zhongli squirming there tickles and Childe scrunches his nose so that he doesn't sneeze. Zhongli tastes lightly of vanilla and silk flowers.

He can feel just how small the brunette is in this way. It shouldn't take more than one firm swallow to get him down. Childe tilts his head back again, easing his soaked prey back toward his throat.

“Ajax- Childe, please slow down!” Zhongli begs again and something stirs the guilty little voice again. Sighing slowly through his nose, Childe relaxes his tongue. He keeps his head tilted back and he can feel the wet little form sliding down the slope of the striated muscle. Zhongli is still out of breath, and Childe feels the odd sensation of fingertips digging into his taste buds to hold the morsel in place. He’s a bit impressed at Zhongli for managing that.

Everything is quiet for a few beats and nothing but the tiny heaving breaths really hold Childe’s attention. He can feel the smaller starting to calm so he flexes his tongue, relaxing his throat at the same time. Zhongli gasps as he loses his grip, sliding down the rest of the way. He’s so small that he starts slipping into Childe's throat right away. The wet flesh kneading at his tiny legs as the two centimeters of his body sink into the passageway. It will indeed only take one thick swallow and Childe inhales and exhales three shallow times before he wills himself to.

It's effortless. Zhongli doesn't cry out this time, and in fact he barely squirms as he's drawn down into the hot depths of Childe's core.

Childe feels the little weight drop into his stomach and he lifts a hand to press against it. It growls in response and he can feel the little form inside startle at the noise. He rubs lightly at Zhongli and though the touch is hesitant, he can feel the smaller push back at him.

There's raucous applause from his audience and Childe looks back to them now. The voice of the empress rises up again calling his name (finally) and Childe turns his gaze to face her.

“Happy?” He gives her a flat look when she beams at him, waving him down to her.

“Let me take a look,” She requests, “Gotta be sure there's no Mr. Zhongli hidden away in that cave!”

Childe rolls his eyes, but obediently opens his mouth up. He sticks his tongue out and lifts it at her command, turning his face slightly so she can inspect all angles and eventually mumbling, “You're welcome to go down and check. There's plenty of room.”

“Ah! An exciting offer Titan, but that will have to wait for another day.” He looks expectantly at her, waiting for the freedom he’s been guaranteed. She blinks up at him, wide eyed and nearly innocent- or forgetful maybe. “Oh right!” She claps her hands together. “Okay! Stand up and I’ll release you.”

He’s quick to obey this also, shuffling close as he safely can to the platform so she can reach out to wave her hands to make the chain evaporate. She waves away the large cloud of golden dust, looking high up to meet his gaze.

“So sad.” And suddenly the colosseum seems to be growing rapidly- Or he’s shrinking!? Hu Tao reaches out her hand, pulling Childe up onto the platform with her as he finally lands at his typical height. Panicked, he rests a hand against his gut, feeling the now, well, minuscule form still sprawled within him. “Well, you’re free now.” She sighs, shaking the hand she’s been holding.

“Wait, what do I do about Zhongli?” He asks, looking for a solution to this. Hu Tao, knowingly, gives no answer.

“I like the gladiator version of you. Very impressive.” She giggles again, picking at the white fabric layers of her own toga. “You’re always welcome back here! Maybe next time I’ll let you pick your prey from any of the champions you know~” She offers before pointing to a door behind her throne. Childe swears it hadn’t been there earlier.

“I- Thank you?” Childe feels disoriented but the guards start leading him out and he looks back just in time to see something very confusing. It’s himself on that titanic scale, still out there sleeping relaxed like he was before the match. Hu Tao turns toward him, lifting her finger to her lips and giving him a wink before she turns away to officiate once more.

Is that how big he had been? Damn.

He steps out through the door and he’s met with a wicked falling sensation.

–

Childe sits up with a gasp, blinking in the moonlit room.

“Baobei,” Zhongli’s voice calls softly to him from his side and Childe turns to face the man with wide eyes. “Come back to me, Ajax.” The man seems a bit ruffled himself, but his voice is honeyed with sleep.

Childe sighs, lifting a hand to rub at his cheek. He slowly lowers himself to lay again, scooting closer until he can lay in Zhongli’s hold.

“Mm… Had a really interesting dream.”

“I know.”

“Oh?”

“You pulled me into it quite swiftly, Ajax.” The old god chuckles softly and Childe’s cheeks warm at the realization.

“Oh celestia, I just ate you!”

“With relish.” The other man agrees, pressing a kiss to soft ginger curls. “I did not know you wished to devour me so.” His laughter is warm and Childe relaxes into his hold.

“So, you’re not mad?” He asks, closing his eyes.

“With you? Never.” Zhongli confirms, “Your imaginary Hu Tao, on the other hand, was quite a menace. I never wish to see her in a position of unrivaled power.” Childe can’t help but let out a soft laugh at that and then he gives a long sigh.

“Mm… Is that what it would really be like?” He receives a confused hum, “I mean swallowing you. I could taste you.

“Ah,” Zhongli’s hand shifts where it’s curled over Ajax, gently rubbing his stomach. It feels nice. “I cannot say for sure. I am sure that thanks to our bond, the sensations were indeed more realistic than they would otherwise have been, but I cannot guarantee that is the precise experience one could ever have outside of a dream.”

“That makes sense.” Childe nods, yawning softly. “Did you have to enter that dream though?” He asks, flustered again.

“Ajax, your thoughts bled into my own sleep, prayers that I would be in attendance. How could I resist a glimpse into your private fantasy when you asked so nicely?” The flush gets worse and Childe turns to bury his face in the pillow.

“Oh my god,” The younger man mumbles in embarrassment.

And he receives a very amused, “Yes, that’s right,” as Zhongli continues to pet his core. Childe reaches to pinch Zhongli’s arm in response. “What’s this?”

“That’s for stabbing me.” He turns back out of the pillow, looking over the way moonlight catches on a small glass figure on their bookshelf. A tiny warrior.

“I was quite sure you had already repaid that wound tenfold, Ajax.” Zhongli pulls Childe a little closer and he goes willingly into the hold.

“Maybe,” The ginger admits. “If you knew it was a dream, why were you so scared?” He’s unable to resist the question despite knowing this could be a conversation that will bleed over into the morning.

“Hm. You are quite the torrential force Baobei.” Zhongli’s answer is unexpectedly short.

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine I were thirty times your size and intended to consume you. That my actions from the start showed no mercy.”

“I think I would find that hot,” Zhongli doesn't seem at all surprised by this response.

“Now, imagine you knew I -as your titanic lover- wanted prey that would squirm.”

“You were acting!?” Childe shuffles to try and pull away, intending to roll over and face Zhongli to read his expression. The adeptus does not allow him such mobility, pulling him back close. Begrudgingly, he settles into the hold once more.

“Perhaps that is the case. But I will say, I was certainly leaning into the excitement of things.”

“But I felt guilty knowing it was you!”

“You did not act very guilty, Ajax.” The man behind him hums in amusement. “You may have the peace of knowing I would willingly do anything you asked of me.”

“What if I had killed you, Zhongli!?” The former ‘titan’ glares at the opposite wall, unable to direct the look back to his lover.

“Do you truly think something as mundane as one mortal’s digestive process could take me out?” Zhongli seems amused that he could think that and that gentle touch returns to rub Childe’s stomach. “Be at peace, Baobei.”

And he is. Zhongli somehow has a way of addressing every issue in the most avoidant and direct way possible. He’s soothed all Childe’s dream specific anxieties with patience and affection. “Alright, Xiansheng.” He sighs, yawning once more.

“Sleep. I will keep your dreams at bay,” Childe knows he will. The young man shuts his eyes, allowing his breaths to fall into pattern with his partner.

“Good night Zhongli.” Another kiss is pressed to his hair.

“Goodnight Ajax.”

[sentimental-idiot25]

It was Sakura's first full day back at the hospital after her long mission with Sasuke. This time, she was returning for an entire day's shift, not just rushing in for emergencies or major crises. It also meant leaving Sarada and Sasuke at home, which made her feel a mix of anticipation and longing.

Over the past year, Sarada had grown and achieved new milestones. She was walking and expanding her vocabulary, although her sentences remained incomplete. Despite that, Sasuke and Sakura always understood what she was trying to express.

As Sakura gathered her belongings near the door, Sasuke picked up Sarada from her play area, and they all gathered by the exit.

"Are you all ready to go?" Sasuke asked.

Sakura sighed and replied, "Yeah, I think so." She lovingly cupped Sarada's cheeks, using a baby voice, "But I'll miss you!" She planted a kiss on Sarada's cheek, prompting giggles as Sarada buried her head in Sasuke's shoulder. Turning to face Sasuke, Sakura extended the same affectionate gesture, cradling his face with her hand. "And, of course, I'll miss you too," she said, leaning in to give Sasuke a gentle kiss on the lips.

Finally, Sakura turned around, her hand gripping the doorknob to the exit. Glancing back at her beloved family, she couldn't help but feel a bittersweet pang of longing. "Alright, I'll be back home late... I love you two!" she declared.

"Love you, Sakura," Sasuke replied.

"Wub you!" Sarada exclaimed, reaching out for Sakura.

Sakura's face beamed with the widest smile, cherishing the moment as it was Sarada's first attempt at saying "I love you" or something close to it.

"I love you!" Sakura joyfully replied.

"Lob you!" Sarada repeated, reaching out even more for her mother.

Unable to contain her overflowing emotions, Sakura let go of the doorknob, clutching her heart. "I LOVE YOU!"

Sarada playfully pushed Sasuke's face away with her two little hands and nearly leaped out of his arm. "I LOB YOU!"

"Oh!" Sakura held her face, pretending to be taken aback. "Sasuke, how am I supposed to leave?" She walked over to the two and held Sarada tightly. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she said, "It's not like I can take you to work...unless--"

"No, Sakura," Sasuke interjected.

"You're no fun Sasuke,” Sakura teased, showering Sarada with more kisses all over her face. "I love you!" She exclaimed one last time before reluctantly handing her back over to Sasuke, who was pouting, “What’s with the face?” She asked laughing. 

“Nothing,” He said stoically. 

“You want kisses too?” She asked playfully with her eyebrow raised. 

Sasuke blushed slightly as he pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. 

 Sakura couldn't help but laugh at Sasuke's stoic response. She playfully nudged him. "Oh, come on, Sasuke. Don't be shy. I know you secretly want kisses too."

Sasuke's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, but he tried to maintain his composure. "It's not necessary. I'm fine."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Are you sure about that? I have a feeling you're just holding back your inner romantic."

Sasuke let out a barely perceptible sigh, his resolve weakening. He pursed his lips and nodded ever so slightly, unable to hide his desire for a kiss.

Sakura grinned triumphantly. "Ah, I knew it!" She leaned in closer, her lips tantalizingly close to Sasuke's. "Well, if you insist, I suppose I can spare a few kisses for my ever-brooding husband."

Unable to resist any longer, Sakura planted a series of quick, playful kisses on Sasuke's cheeks, leaving a trail of warmth and affection. Each peck brought a subtle smile to Sasuke's usually serious face.

Sarada watched the exchange with wide eyes, giggling at her parents' playful interaction. "Mama lob papa!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

“I don’t know…” Sakura said, “Does Papa lob Mama?” She asked Sasuke with a smirk. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a small sigh, “Of course.” 

 “Glad to hear it,” Sakura said, “Oh look at the time! I have to go!” She said after looking at the clock on the wall.

 “I love you both!! Be good!” She said as she exited through the door. 

[minisgatewaytoinsanity]

Mood: Woke up the other night to thoughts about shapeshifting!Dream - and with words ready and asking to be written down...

Hob drifts back into awareness, slowly, bonelessly content, utterly relaxed and warm. He sighs. There’s a solid weight on his chest, loose limbs wrapped around him, and he sighs again. Dream’s still here. He blinks his eyes open but instead of meeting blue he encounters fathomless black, barely a star in sight. All of Dream’s beautiful, painfully familiar form is a bit fuzzy around the edges.

“What are you doing?” Hob whispers.

Dream solidifies, eyes turning silvery blue. “Nothing.”

“Please,” Hob murmurs, carefully touching two fingers to Dream’s now slightly furrowed brow. The frown’s barely perceptible but Hob knows it’s there. He reaches further up, into impossibly messy raven strands, in further disarray after what they did earlier – in the Waking for a change which is still, always a wondrous thing, Hob’s hands in Dream’s hair, bodies intertwined, fervently touching and coming together. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Dream wears that expression that very clearly says, ‘Humans, chimneys, playing cards, self-driving cars, chat bots, still hoping for world peace and a cure for all ills’. Not convinced then.

“You know I don’t mind, right? Whatever form you choose.”

Dream’s eyes turn black again. “What if I don’t choose?” And he shifts.

Hob cannot describe what he sees. Words fail him, his thoughts tumbling in wild disarray. Dream’s so beyond human comprehension tonight. Hob has watched him change into a lot of different things by now, dreams and nightmares alike, monstrous and beautiful, strange and alien, but this is, it’s – more somehow. It’s not a solid form. It could be a concept of sorts, a fleeting moment of something, anything, everything. It’s ever-changing or maybe simply never-ending.

The best Hob can come up with are some ideas and associations, absurd and chaotic. They appear to him in one second, gone, null and void in the next. There’s an ancient tree, its roots far and wide in damp earth, fog rising from warm soil after a thunderstorm. It’s a laugh, careless and free, elicited by a moment of pure, easy joy, celebrating life and its wonders. It’s a star blinking into existence in the vastness of the universe, gone again in a moment of time, in a white-hot fiery explosion, billions of years conflating to seconds.

There’s a feeling of freedom, tainted and strengthened by confinement. He glimpses a nebula, winding through space, a mountain lion, poised on a ridge, ready to strike, an otter, gliding through a lake, droplets of water sparkling in its fur like diamonds, a grain of sand in a desert. It’s the desert itself, hot and hostile, gorgeously cold, covered by a blanket of stars. The images keep changing faster than Hob can perceive them. There’s hope and compassion and pain. It’s too much and never enough.

Whatever it is, it’s Dream, and it coils around Hob, caressing and stroking and petting. And he did not expect it to be this gentle, this tender. He imagined it to be a blizzard or a hurricane, a tsunami perhaps, something he could barely endure. Instead it’s all soft and sweet. It’s so ancient and powerful and yet it decides to worship him. He wants to reach back, but it’s impossible, there’s nothing to touch, not for him, nothing humanly palpable, so he lays there, drowning in happiness, hoping that Dream can hear his thoughts, feel what he feels.

“Hobsie,” it echoes in his mind, and it should be amusing – he hasn’t heard this in centuries, certainly not from Dream, occasionally from himself, in a moment of self-mockery, rarely in fond memory. It should be funny. It’s not. It makes him choke up and need and want.

“Dream. I love you so fucking much,” he manages, voice raspy and raw, laid bare.

There’s a solid weight on his chest, loose limbs wrapped around him. 

“Hobsie,” Dream says again, eyes blue but with a hint of starlight, before he leans down for a proper kiss.

Read it on AO3: What is your substance, whereof are you made by Mini

[thebardisabird]

Hey sorry if this rq is too specific. But could I have matsus with a s/o that has a bad perception of love because of how their family raised them? They think they have to reach certain expectations in order to still be loved? Like they have to work their absolute hardest or else people will stop loving them? If they make a mistake they freak out and try to overcompensate for it because they’re scared matsus will leave them because that’s what they’re used to. (Sorry this is LONG aaaa)

You're totally fine, Anonym. If this is for cathartic reasons, I hope this helps you in some way. I only had the energy to really do choukei here, I apologize. Enjoy either way:

Osomatsu is not exactly privy as to why you're so adamant on working extra shifts. He's concerned when he sees how tired you are when you come home. While he was initially excited to have some extra money in his pocket to go play pachinko, he hated that he barely saw you as a result. The first time he brought it up you had immediately shut him down saying you didn't mind at all and as long as he was happy you were more than happy to do it. So when you gave him ten thousand yen to go play pachinko, he realized he'd had enough. "I don't want it," he refused, handing the bills back to you. It was then he saw it - the sheer panic on your face. You'd begged him to take the money and go play, tears starting to form at your eyes. He's taken aback, but he realizes that you're scared that he refused. You two end up talking about your past and how you were always taught to do better, be better in order to be loved and appreciated. “That’s stupid,” Osomatsu huffs out bluntly, and the criticism stings a little. You think he’s directing that frustrated grunt at you for not knowing better, but he dials back once he sees your downcast eyes, “Sorry - I mean that’s stupid that you were told to believe that…now I don’t really know a whole lot about love, I’ll be honest, but I know that’s definitely not it.”

He takes your hand, eye softening as he scans your face , “I want you to be real with me. Listen to what your gut tells you, not some bullshit idea your parents made you go through so you could win their approval - it’s how you truly feel inside that matters, nothing else.”

-------

Karamatsu catches you crying over his guitar one afternoon. The instrument is polished and pristine in your hands, which if deduction served him at all, would not constitute a reason for your tears. He knocks a the open doorframe, “Darling, what’s going on?”

Immediately your tears fall tenfold, your hands clutching the neck of the thing in fear, “I-I’m so sorry, Karamatsu! I’ll pay for it, I promise! I’ll buy you a new guitar even just please…!” The panic in your voice worries the second son, and he can see by your eyes that’d you’d been crying for some time now. He kneels to the floor with you, “Easy, my love, easy - what happened?” his voice is gentle, his eyes looking over the parts of your body visible to him for any signs of harm. When he doesn’t see that you’re hurt he affirms, “I assure you, whatever’s wrong would never have me cross with you…talk to me.” There’s a struggle in finding your words at first, but you take a few breaths and apologize. Unfurling your hands you show him the issue - a broken guitar string. You sniffle, “I was just trying to take care of it…you love your guitar so much and I ruined it,” your head lifts; tearfully you beg, “Please let me buy you a new one, I know I’m a terrible partner for damaging your guitar, but I’ll do whatever I can to fix this!”

Karamatsu is taken aback by your crying. To hear you so distraught over his instrument both touches him and breaks his heart. Carefully he faces his palms out, “Here, let me show you something.” When you hand him the guitar you prepare yourself mentally for anger and outrage, a reflex you’re accustomed to due to your past. But it never comes. Instead, you find Karamatsu quietly turning the tuning peg and unraveling string. It comes undone in a cinch to your subdued amazement, and he sets it aside. At the opposite end, with some gentle force, you watch him pop a small pin from its place, which allowed him to pull the other half off. "There," he finishes, setting aside the broken string, "It's a simple fix, my love. They're replaceable and easy to remove. No harm done." He lends you a gentle smile, though you can't tell if that makes you feel better or worse. It's hard for you to look him in the eye at the moment, so you settle instead for looking at the guitar. "You're not upset?" came your apprehensive question. He shakes his head, "Not at all, sweet dove, I've broken many myself...though, I have to ask - are you alright?" His hand reaches out to gently tip your chin upright Your vision is blurred by tears once more, but you can make out the furrowed brow of your boyfriend, "I've never seen you react that way..." You shudder at the idea of what you're about to tell him, but you continue, explaining your childhood consisted of heavy punishment for even the smallest mistakes. In your family there was no room for error or imperfections in the slightest...and you remember being on the receiving of a lot of that negative feedback. When you finish, the tears you shed throughout your explanation flow silently. You can tell by the look on his face he's stewing with some heavy emotions, and it makes you feel awful for dumping something so emotionally substantial on him. But in Karamatsu fashion, his response is to simply wrap his arms around you, placing a hand at the back of your head. You inhale deeply, stifling the sob that threatens to leave you. His fingers gently tangle in your hair, "You're human. We are not perfect people, my love...and I would never be so quick to anger rather than talk to you first." He says it with such sincerity that it almost doesn't feel like he's said it all. Yet his embrace and the vibrations of his chest remind you that it is - and you shake loose that breath, relief seeping into you like a sponge takes water with the realization that everything truly was okay after all.

[hunting-songs]

After a hard day at work, Kurapika smiled softly to himself when he found Senritsu. He hesitated for a few seconds, but then finally made up his mind. He wanted to relax for a moment and have fun, trying to put the day he'd had behind, and with her he felt comfortable and felt like he could be himself. Approaching from behind, he leaned slightly, getting closer to her ear with a soft but slightly deep tone and simulating a gentleman's tone "Is this seat taken? Please, tell me, miss, ��� do you believe in love at first sight or should i walk by again? ❜" Letting out a soft but honest laugh, Kurapika took the seat next to her, winking at her in amusement to make her understand that he was joking. "Sorry, ❛I have had a really bad day and it always makes me feel better to see a pretty woman smile. So would you smile for me?❜" Reaching her hand, he approached to kiss its back, but as soon as his lips made barely perceptible contact with her skin, he smiled and moved away slightly.

The autumnevening made long streaks of warm, deep golden sunlight fall into the small hotelkitchen. It was quiet, the staff had finished their shift for today, the streets outside were yet not screaming with the evening-rush-hour and when Senritsu walked barefoot into the kitchen and took a beercan out of the freezer, her fingers nimbly openign it was the only loud sound she was hearing in the building. When she had finishd her own shift, Senritsu had slipped in the baggy band-t-shirt and shorts she usually wore for sleeping and for a few moments that felt like paradise she sat in that kitchen by the table, with the cool beercan in her small hand, the quietness of the kitchen stroking comfortably around her ears, and the warmth of the sunlight warming her back that made her feel like a lazy cat laying contentedly purring in the sun. For a few moments the woman just sat there quietly and enjoyed it to the fullest. Senritsu looked up from her now halfempty beercan, when she heard Kurapikas footsteps on the corridor coming towards her. She heard the tentativeness in his tiered heartbeat and couldn´t help a worried frown drawing a long line between her big eyes over that. Then she listened as this tentativeness turned into a careful, so careful, playfulness when he eventually approached her by the kitchebtable to start his little game.

Her short fingers tapped a sweet little melody against the top of the beercan, while she listened with a amused shimmer in her dark eyes to Kurapikas smoothly delivered pick-up-lines. The young woman bit her lips to not burst out into laughters, instead she played along with his joke just as smoothly: "Mhmmmmmmm My, how radiant must be my beauty to attract such sweet words from a handsome strangers lips. How could I not smile for this handsome stranger. Trouble never looked so fine, indeed. But to my shame I must say- I do not believe in Love at first sight, in fact I do believe that Love is a decision one has to make." Senritsus melodic voice was nothing but a sweet purr carassing along th mans ears like loving fingers. The Music-Hunter knew what she was doing with her voice, and she knew what she was doing when she slightly leaned forward. Her fingers carefully shoved the beercan away over the table and the hand Kurapika had been holding gently moved around, holding his hand while her thumb stroked as light as a feather along his skin with just enough slight pressure so her nail left a line of a alluring tickling sensation on his skin. The womans dark grey eyes, shimmering like polished silverjewelery in the low sunlight, found his : "And right now, I think I just made a decision, what a sweet coincidence for both of us. After all, as you said you had a bad day so if you’re feeling down, i can feel you up." The Musician lasted exactly half a minute before little chuckles started to break through her melodic humm of a voice and she looked to the side giggling with laughingtears in her big eyes. [ @skarletchains ]

[mystic-bookshelf]

The Soulmate Train

Chapter 4: voice

AO3

“Marinette…”

…

“Marinette, are you there?”

That voice… God, it’s so dark, I can barely make out anything.

“Oh, Marinette… Where are you now?”

Where am I? This isn’t the train, this… why am I moving so slowly?

“How I wish you came back…”

Where are you? Where are you calling from? I don‘t see you. 

“Why did you leave, Marinette?”

I’m fine… or am I? I have to say something… anything… 

My throat feels like it's closing… I can’t breathe.

“I miss you… We miss you. We miss you so much. Come back…”

I can’t, I don‘t know how.

“Please, Marinette, come back… Don‘t leave. Stay…”

…

“Stay…”

Marinette jolted awake in a cold sweat, her chest heaved with each heavy breath. As she sat up, her hands found the lamp on the nightstand, bathing the cabin in a warm light and chasing the echoes of her nightmare away, until the only two things she could hear were the train and her thundering heart.

She rubbed her eyes. She didn‘t remember much of her nightmare, the pictures in her mind were a big blur. But it left her with a weird sense of danger and despair looming over her, like a premonition. Like she needed to be careful.

The feeling accompanied her into the dining car, where she was instantly met with a tense atmosphere. The usually laid-back feel of the dining car was gone, the passengers seemed uneasy, alarmed even.

Marinette spotted Alya at one of the tables, before her a half-finished plate with scrambled eggs. From a closer distance, it looked less like she was actually eating and more like she was moving it from one side of the plate to the other.

“Alya,” Marinette greeted her friend. “What is going on?”

Before Alya could answer her, the ringing of a bell caught their attention. “Dear guests, if I may have your attention, please?”

All eyes wandered to the front, where the two conductors were standing, with serious looks on their faces.

“We’ve reached the ocean,” Pierre announced. “That means we’re now moving through dangerous territory for the next few days. We might’ve already been noticed by sea creatures and as you should know, they’ll try to infiltrate your mind by whispering your deepest fears to you. This can lead to a distorted perception of reality, like hallucinations for example. So if you notice anything unusual, alert us immediately.”

Luka spoke up next. “On top of that, it’s extremely important that you keep the curtains closed under any circumstances, as they shield you from the voices to a certain extent. We also strongly advise you to stay in groups and look out for each other. While Pierre will attend the usual work on the train, I’ll stay here for now and look out for everyone so that you’ll all stay on board. That’d be all for now. You may come to us if you have further questions.”

Luka ended the speech with a bow and the passengers almost immediately started whispering and exchanging fearful looks amongst each other.

Alya shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “This is… unsettling,” she said. “No wonder the atmosphere seemed so gloomy this morning.”

But Marinette wasn’t listening as her eyes were glued to Luka, who was immediately surrounded by a scared group of passengers. Even now, he didn’t let that deter him. He kept his usually composed demeanor, answered everybody’s questions and concerns with his calming voice, and she could see that the passengers immediately seemed less fearful.

She couldn‘t help but feel a strong sense of admiration as he consoled everybody and conveyed them hope. Strength. Like a rock in the midst of a storm. Even just by looking at him, she could feel her entire body relax a little. 

It had been her plan to talk to him today. The previous night, before bedtime, she had given it another shot and had ended up with a decent enough apology written down. No excuses this time, she wouldn‘t even let some stupid sea creatures stop her. She just needed to wait for the right moment.

When he looked over to her, she realized she had been staring at him for the last couple minutes and quickly tore her gaze away. Across the table, Alya looked at her with a lifted brow. “Are you going to call him over?” 

“W-what?” Marinette tried, and failed, to play it cool. “W-why would I?”

Alya shrugged. “You stared at him and I thought he might come to give us some encouraging words as well. I mean… all of this is kind of coming out of the blue and…” She drifted off, her eyes fixating on the table. She tapped her fingers on its surface.

Right, from all the passengers on the train, Alya was the last one who had boarded the train. This was merely her second day and already she had to deal with the sea creatures everyone else had spent at least a little time mentally preparing for. God, what must this be like for her?

Marinette rested her hand on Alya’s shoulder. “We’re going to make it to the other side of the ocean safe and sound, I’m sure of it.”

Alya gave her a thankful smile. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know, at least a heads up would’ve been nice. Before boarding the train, I mean.”

Marinette nodded in agreement, remembering her discussion with Pierre about the curtains on her first day.

“That would be extremely stupid though, don’t you think?”

The two women turned to a familiar redhead at the table next to them. He had his head resting on the seat back cushion and stared at the two women with a weirdly bored expression. Marinette had a feeling this was more of a facade than anything else.

“What do you mean ‘stupid’?” she asked.

Nathaniel huffed. “What would that even look like on the ticket? ‘Meet your soulmate now! All you have to do is stare at the same stupid walls for weeks on end and not get devoured by some weird creatures'? Or how about ‘We’ll get you to your soulmate, if you manage to not freaking die ’? Be honest, if you had known about the dangers of this journey beforehand, would you have boarded?”

A little perplexed, Marinette blinked. She… probably wouldn’t have… right? Knowing that she might not make it. But she did this for her soulmate, her other half, her perfect person, someone she wants to meet, someone this trip is worth taking for. Someone she had no other way of ever meeting. That was why she was on this train, after all. This person meant something to her, otherwise she wouldn’t have taken the sacrifice of leaving her home. She had no other choice.

But… potential death? That was a whole other story. Would a soulmate trip really be worth a potentially deadly trip?

“Of course!” Alya exclaimed. Nathaniel turned his head to her, eyeing her with raised eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I wouldn’t let some sea creatures scare me away from meeting my soulmate!”

“You only say that because you can’t turn back now. We’re already in the middle of the ocean.” Nathaniel scoffed. 

“That’s not true, I know I would do anything in the name of true love!” Marinette flinched when Alya pounded her hand on the table. Even Nathaniel widened his eyes in surprise. 

“Oh wow, someone’s passionate,” he mumbled.

“Well, obviously. Who isn’t passionate about their soulmate?” Alya asked. “This is why we’re on the train in the first place: to find our destiny. I know now the road won’t be easy, but knowing that one day, I’ll be united with my soulmate gives me strength to fight and to endure. I know I will make it through this because I won’t doubt that destiny doesn’t exactly know which path is right for me to take.”

At some point during her speech, she had gotten up from her seat, fists clenched, and smiled confidently. The nervousness from earlier had disappeared. “Love is always worth fighting for! So yes, I would have boarded the train even if I knew about the creatures. It’s not about this journey, it’s about the destination.” 

Nathaniel blinked at her a few times, seemingly impressed by her speech. But he immediately switched to a bored expression. “The saying is the other way around, you know?”

“You know what I mean.” Alya rolled her eyes. “What’s your deal, anyway? You sound like you don’t want to meet your soulmate.”

“That’s not what I was saying. I’m just talking about the circumstances!”

“We’ll deal with them!”

“Or we don’t and we die!”

“Thanks, you genius, I’m aware!”

“Guys, please. This discussion is pointless,” Marinette tried to intervene. “Let’s rather focus on getting through this.” But both of them completely ignored her and kept yelling at each other.

She sighed, trying to figure out how to get them to stop, but then Luka caught her attention again. He was still surrounded by a group of passengers talking to him, but there was a short moment where his gaze met hers and held it for a moment, causing Marinette’s heart to speed up.

If her friends were too busy ignoring her should she try to talk to him now? Now was a better time than ever, scary sea creatures be damned.

You practiced, now’s your chance. No running away this time, you got this!

She took a deep breath and got out of her seat. Neither Alya nor Nathaniel noticed her slipping away and making her way towards the conductor. Her feet practically moved on their own as the distance became smaller. When she was halfway there though, she suddenly felt like her head was spinning, causing her to stop and lean against the seat next to her. The dizziness lasted for a few seconds before she looked up again and walked towards the conductor. Her heart was still beating a thousand miles per hour and her shoulders tensed up, her mind automatically repeating the “You got this!” mantra over and over again, until she stood before him.

Luka hadn’t taken his eyes off of her the entire time, brows slightly raised as he blinked at her a few times, seemingly surprised about her approaching him after days of doing the opposite.

But he didn’t comment on that, instead he gave her his usual gentle smile. “You seem worried. Need some comforting words?“

As if nothing had ever happened, his voice was calm and welcoming as always, like an invitation to tell him all her secrets and deepest fears, because they’d be safe with him. That she’d be safe with him. For a moment, she wondered if her apology speech was even necessary.

No, it is! Better to clear the air than ignore it especially after the last few days.

“I‘m okay,” she mumbled, scratching her neck. “I was… uhm… I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you?“

“Anytime, Marinette, what’s the matter?”

She smiled. Had the way he said her name always sounded so pretty?

“You see, it’s about… well, I wanted to… uhm…”

Crap, she hadn’t even gotten out one sentence and was already fumbling her words. 

Come on, you don’t want him to judge you even more, right? 

Of course not, but her brain had seemed to have turned into soup, only this nagging voice deprecating her. This was so stupid, she was an adult woman who should be more than capable of communicating with other adult people and yet here she was, unable to put two words together!

That is incredibly sad, Marinette. 

Luka tilted his head. “Are you feeling unwell, maybe? Should I—”

“I’m feeling fine, really! No voices or anything like that yet,” she assured him. “I just wanted… to…”

This would be so much easier if she had her sketchbook with her…

Her sketchbook… of course! 

“I wanted to ask you if you could accompany me to my cabin? I forgot something there, but I’m too afraid to go by myself since you said we should stay in groups.”

Luka smiled and nodded. “Of course! After you, Marinette.”

She could honestly pat herself on the back. It didn’t go quite like she had imagined, but getting to talk to him in an area without any other people actually seemed like a smart move. No distractions or anything.

Luka held the door open for her and she stepped through. 

Good job, Marinette, I knew you could do this!

She smiled to herself, she wasn‘t exactly used to her inner voice being so supportive of her. The door fell shut behind her and her eyes were glued to the floor as they walked through the aisle, Luka just behind her. She didn’t quite feel confident enough to look at him.

“I‘ll just quickly grab something, it won’t be long!“

“We can take our time.“

As they reached her cabin door, Marinette stepped in. Her sketchbook laid right on the night stand and to cover up her peeking inside of it, she pretended to rummage through her suitcase.

“So… I have a feeling there’s something you want to say to me?” She heard Luka‘s voice from behind her. “Care to share what it is?”

This is the moment! 

“Yeah, it’s… look, I know I kind of avoided you these last few days,” she began. “You see, I need you to understand that it doesn’t have anything to do with me not liking to be around you or anything like that. I just felt awkward. What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for acting that way, but… since I feel like you don’t really mind that too much anyway, maybe we could go back to… being friends again?”

She held her breath. The words were out, she did it! A sense of relief washed over her. It felt so good getting it out, finally facing that uncomfortable situation that had haunted her for days now and giving her a chance to rekindle her friendship with Luka.

Luka, who had stayed awfully quiet.

Her stomach clenched. Why… Why wasn’t he saying anything? Her hand fisted the page of her sketchbook with the apology written on it.

Luka wasn’t… rejecting her apology, was he? 

“L-Luka?”

He would understand… right?

She winced when she heard a loud sigh.

“Awkward, you say,“ he repeated, his voice sounding… oddly bitter. 

“W-well—”

“I get it,“ he continued. “Must be hard having someone like me around you. Someone so different, someone… weird. Having no soulmate is so painful and yet you’re acting like you’re the one who deserves pity for being around me.”

Marinette frowned. “Wait, no, you misunderstood me! That now what I—”

But when she spun around to face him… no one was there. Just her open cabin door squeaking. No Luka in sight.

“L-Luka, where are you?”

“You’re really mean, you know that?”

She jumped up to her feet, looking around the room, but she was still alone. The death grip on her book tightened so much that her knuckles turned white. If she was on her own…

No, it couldn’t be.

Marinette carefully approached the door and stepped out of the cabin. She looked left and right, but the conductor still wasn’t in sight. The aisle was completely empty.

This… this entire time, she had been completely alone, talking to nobody?

Or rather talking to…

“You just had to make such a big deal about it,“ Luka‘s voice rang in her ear. This time she did notice that it sounded off. “As if it’s not hard enough for me already.”

“No. Nononono…” Marinette gripped the door knob to steady herself. “No! Get out of my head!“

“Seeing all those soulmate couples get together, while I can never have that…”

Marinette pressed her fist to her forehead. “Stop it,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Maybe not everyone is deserving of a soulmate. Tell me, do you think everybody deserves to have a soulmate? Do you deserve to have a soulmate?”

“I SAID GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

The sketchbook landed with a thud on the floor, Marinette shortly following. Head between her arms, she rolled herself into a tiny ball. Hot tears streamed down her face.

“Shut up… shut up…”

None of this had been real. How hadn’t she realized it sooner? Just how strong was the voice’s power to trick her into a full conversation with nobody?

She laid on the wooden floor for several minutes, hands shaking, heart beating, hot tears streaming down her face. Her mind stayed silent.

“H-hello?” Her voice came out weak and shaky. But she didn’t receive an answer. 

Marinette slowly sat up. “Are you still there?” she asked again, and still received no answer. Even until she had fully stood up, clinging to the door for support, there was an almost deafening silence surrounding her, only briefly interrupted by the train’s rattling. 

That was… how did everything feel so real? How had she not noticed much sooner that she was alone? That she had never been in Luka’s company.

Luka! She had to tell Luka what just happened! He still had to be in the dining car… or maybe on his way to follow her. She had to find him.

A panic rushed through her as she ran to the door and sprinted through it into the next cabin car. Her entire body felt tense, her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, her head hurt. How could this happen? How could she let any of this happen? This was all her fault…

She threw the door open, expecting to step foot into the dining car, but instead there was another cabin car. She frowned. Her cabin was in the second cabin car, she should’ve reached the dining car by now.

She jumped into the car behind the door and sprinted to the next door. This had to be it.

But once again, the door led to another aisle of a cabin car.

What was happening? Were the voices powerful enough that they had added new cars? No, that's ridiculous, but then how…? Was Marinette even running, or was all of this a hallucination?

“This can’t be.” More tears ran down her face as she ran through the next aisle, not knowing what else she could do. God, why did this one feel so much longer than the previous ones? What kind of sick mind trick was this?

She hesitated when she reached yet another door. “Please, be the dining car…”

Shaky hands wrapped around the door knob and the door opened with a click to reveal yet another cabin car. Marinette fell to her knees. 

“What is this? W-where am I?” She sobbed. “I need help. Luka, help me! Where are you?  Please help me!”

No answer. She hid her face in her hands and kept crying.

“Marinette?”

She lifted her head to blink up at the conductor.

“Luka?” Her voice was full of disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“You didn’t wait for me,” he said and reached out for her hand. She winced when his cold hand touched hers. “You can’t just walk off all on your own, Marinette.”

Her lips formed a relieved smile and she held her hand in front of her mouth to suppress the sobs. “Oh, Luka, I’m so happy to see you. I need help, the voices… they were in my head and I talked to them, thinking it was you and… I’m so scared, Luka, what should I do?”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he whispered. “You’re going through a lot, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I guess I am? I just feel so guilty for—”

“For not saying anything sooner?” he finished. “I understand. Leaving your family for your soulmate must’ve been so hard for you, Marinette. You’re handling that pretty badly.” He tilted his head and smiled a tad wider. “Do you think you made the right decision coming here?”

“I… I d-don’t…” she stammered. “I don’t know, there’s so much on my mind. The journey has been so stressful since the beginning, I think it’s getting all to me. And then there’s me avoiding you because…”

Luka sighed. “Tell me, would you say that you think everyone deserves a soulmate, Marinette?”

She halted. “W-why would I not think that?”

“Do you think you deserve a soulmate?”

Marinette blinked confused. The dawning realization came over her. “Y-you’re still not the real Luka! Get away from me!”

There was a loud slap sound, her hand was pulsing as she moved away. The conductor slowly lifted his hand to his reddened cheek. Even that had felt too real… had she made a mistake?

“I-I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “You say sorry so much, it’s getting frankly annoying. No wonder you basically have nobody on this train.”

“That’s not true, I have Alya! And Nathaniel… sort of.”

“And me,” the fake Luka said. “The lonely conductor who’s doomed to never find love, ever. While you do, despite everything. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

Marinette blinked a little perplexed, but didn't know how to answer. 

Luka continued. “You said so yourself, I’m kind and sweet and deserving of love. But what about you? You haven’t been sure about your soulmate ever since you stepped foot on this train, have you? You’ve just been whining about your precious little family.”

“Do not bring them into th—”

“You’re so miserable because of them all the time. Meanwhile you don’t waste a single thought on your soulmate. It’s so sad. I can only imagine their disappointment when they get to meet you, because they’d know you’d rather be with your family. it’s written all over your face.”

Her head hurt. It hurt so badly she had to lay on the floor again and cover her ears. “This isn’t true…”

“I pity that soulmate of yours, I really do. Maybe they would be better off without you…”

That made her look up again and stare at Luka in disbelief. “W-what? No, I do… I do want to meet… my soul…” She drifted off. Didn’t he have a point? Wasn’t that literally the first thing she had confessed to Luka on her first day? How she wasn’t sure of everything and felt like she might’ve made a mistake?

What would her soulmate think of that?

“You can’t escape the truth forever, Marinette,” the fake conductor continued, his voice still ringing in her ears as clear and unmuffled as before. “Think about it, what if you were right? What if it were better if you stayed with your parents? Your poor and lonely parents who have nobody to help them in their bakery anymore. Wouldn’t you want to go back to them?”

“I… I can’t…”

“What if I told you you can?” The fake Luka leaned forward. “The train hasn’t traveled that far until now. You’d maybe have to swim back to land a little, but nothing you couldn’t do. For your parents, of course. Come on, make at least one good decision today and run.”

Marinette shook her head. “I can never return, even if I wanted…”

“Marinette?”

The woman shrieked at the new voice and turned around. That sounded like… like…

“Maman?” Marinette blinked through the tears. 

“Oh, honey,” her mother said. “We miss you so much. I can’t bare to see you suffer like this.”

Oh, how gentle and caring her voice was. Had always been. Marinette could immediately feel how her whole body relaxed, a feeling of hope spreading through her. “Maman… I miss you, too. So much. And Papa as well.”

“ Mon chouquette ,” her father’s voice joined in. “How I wish you’d never left. The days are so dull without you.”

She sobbed. “I’m so sorry I did. I should’ve never gotten on this train… I only bring harm to others.”

“Then go back to them,” the fake Luka urged her. “It’s the only way you can fix all of this. Leave the train.”

“Leave the train. Leave the train,” the voices sang in unison and Marinette couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. She didn’t belong on the train. 

She never did. 

Her soulmate would be better off without her.

Luka would be better off without her.

How had she not realized that sooner?

“Marinette…”

“I’ll go,” she announced with a weak voice. “I’ll find a way out of this train. Maman, Papa, I’ll be on my way.”

“Marinette…”

“I should’ve never left. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

“Marinette, do you hear me?”

“Be quiet, Luka! I’m on my way!”

But as she tried to get up, she realized she couldn’t move. Like something was holding her in place. She looked down at herself to see Luka’s arms wrapped around her.

“Marinette, please hold still.”

“You just said I should leave. Let me go!”

Panic rose in her chest once again. “Why are you holding me back, goddamnit!”

“Marinette, please listen to me,” he whispered, his voice sounding different than before. Not harsh at all, but sweet. Understanding. Caring. A stark contrast to the voices chanting at her to leave the train.

“Marinette, focus on me, okay?”

~~~

Marinette was a much stronger woman than he had anticipated. It was hard to keep her in place as she tried to wiggle herself free from his embrace.

“LET! ME! GO!” she yelled.

“This is going to be tough,” Pierre mumbled. He was kneeling next to Luka, holding Marinette by her shoulders. “How in the world did this happen?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Luka replied. “I didn’t see her lea—”

He was interrupted by Marinette trying to jump up to her feet. Luckily, he could react fast enough, leaning over her to keep her from moving away.

“Marinette,” Luka whispered, his hands fisting into her sweater. “Listen to me, whatever the voices have told you, it’s not true. You have to snap out of it, please.”

Behind him, he heard Alya trying to hold back her sobs. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Alya, stay calm,” Pierre told her. “We’ll fix this. It seems like she can still hear us, that’s a start.” He turned back to Marinette. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, you have to try and reject the voices.”

“I have to go! I HAVE TO GO NOW!” Marinette’s voice cracked at the “now,” followed by loud sobbing. “I-I have to go back. I don’t belong on the train… I shouldn’t have come here.”

Luka blinked, realizing how his own eyes became watery. “Marinette…”

He couldn’t cry. Not right now, even though her pain was so palpable, he’d feel it himself even if he weren’t an empath. Seeing her scream and cry in his arms, trying her hardest to get away from him, broke his heart.

“I don’t deserve to be on this train… to meet my soulmate,” she said bitterly. “They deserve someone who’s sure about themselves, who doesn’t keep questioning everything, not someone so weak and pathetic like me.” With every word, her movements became less and less, her voice getting weaker, until she sank into his arms like a deflated balloon. “I only bring harm to others. By disappointing my soulmate even before having met them, disappointing my parents by leaving them behind. By disappointing you, Luka.”

Luka bit his lips upon seeing Pierre’s confused look in the corner of his eye. “Luka, what in the world is she talking about? What did you do?”

He decided to ignore his superior. That was a conversation for later. He had to focus on the girl in his arms right now.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “This is all my fault.”

“Stop. Talking,” she interrupted him. “Stop saying that! Stop blaming yourself for things I did… You’re the kindest person I know. I never meant to hurt you… I should just stay away from you.”

She tried escaping again, but Luka still held her in place. His approach wasn’t working, he couldn’t just hold her like this hoping she’d randomly snap out of it. He’d have to try something else.

“Marinette,” he tried again. “You’re not a bad person, you didn’t inflict pain on anyone, least of all me. Why would you think that anyway?”

“But… you said so yourself…”

“Those were the voices, not me,” he explained to her. “They made you feel guilty for things outside of your control when you shouldn’t feel this way.”

Her movements slowly became less and no longer resisting his touch. That was it, he just needed to talk her through her feelings.

“I can’t even begin to imagine the guilt you must be feeling right now. There’s a lot of it, right?”

“... so much. I feel like it’s eating me up…”

“Oh, Marinette.”

He pulled her closer to him. He rarely ever was this close physically with travelers, but in this case, it felt like the right thing to do, judging by how the scared woman more or less melted into him. He smiled and one hand moved to the top of her head, gently stroking her hair. “You didn’t hurt me, Marinette, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like you did. Your uncertainty isn’t something bad or hurtful, it’s something natural. The only thing that hurts me is seeing you doubting yourself like that.”

She was still silently sobbing, but her breathing seemed to get more steady.

“That’s it. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out.”

Marinette followed his instruction, inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. After a few cycles, she let out more sobs. “I feel so stupid and weak.”

“You’re not weak, Marinette, and even if you feel that way now, you’re not alone. Okay? Now keep breathing… keep breathing. Now tell me, what do you see, Marinette?”

She blinked a few times, slowly looking up to the ceiling. “The stars.”

“What do you feel?”

“Your hand…”

“What do you hear?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “...Nothing.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like this, Marinette pressed against his body, slowly relaxing further, until her sobs had completely died down. She moved her head and blinked at him slowly. “Luka… please tell me you’re real.”

A wave of relief washed over him. “I am. You’re safe now.”

His heart made a jump when she gave him a weak smile. 

“Marinette!” Alya had rushed to their side, falling to her knees to take her friend's hand and gently stroke it. “Marinette, are you okay?”

Marinette slowly turned her head to Alya and smiled at her. “I’m so happy to see you… I… I…”—her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head against Luka’s shoulder—“I’m exhausted.”

“That’s understandable,” Pierre pointed out. “I suggest we let her rest in her cabin for now, I’ll keep an eye on her. Miss Cesaire, since you’re friends with Miss Dupain-Cheng—”

“Yes, I’ll stay with her,” Alya exclaimed. Pierre nodded approvingly.

“Then it’s settled. Luka, you go back to the front. And this time, make sure no one leaves the dining car.”

Luka winced at Pierre’s harsh tone, but did as he was told. 

“Take good care of her,” he mumbled as he handed Marinette over.

~~~

When Marinette finally opened her eyes again, she was back in her cabin.

Despite having slept for… how long had she been asleep? She still felt so… energyless. Like every muscle in her body had given in at the same time and weren’t going to do work ever again.

“Marinette?”

Someone shifted on the other side of the bed and when Marinette carefully lifted her way too heavy head, she saw Alya sitting on one corner of her bed. When their eyes met, Alya’s tense shoulders immediately dropped.

“You’re awake,” she breathed with so much softness in her tone, as if she was afraid to hurt Marinette if she spoke any louder. 

Marinette rubbed her eyes. “My head still hurts.”

Alya bit her lips. “But no more…”

Marinette gave her friend a weak smile. “No more voices.”

Alya exhaled like she had held her breath. “That’s a relief. I was so scared for you… and the things you said…”—Marinette winced when she heard Alya sob—“you were so mean to yourself. About leaving your family and not being deserving of… of…”

Before Marinette could really register what was happening, Alya had already lept into her direction and pulled her into a tight hug, hiding her face in her shoulder. Her hands fisted into Marinette’s shirt as if she’d run away otherwise.

“I don’t know what had led to you thinking that way, but those things aren’t true, Marinette,” Alya said. “It’s like that for all of us. We leave home in search of a love greater than anything else in the world. It’s scary, I know. But just the fact alone that you’ve boarded the train, that you’re willing to go through all that for your soulmate shows just how much you care. And that alone means you’re more than deserving of them. You’re a wonderful person and they will love you dearly.”

Tears pricked in her eyes as Marinette wrapped her arms around Alya as well. “I’m so sorry, Alya, this is all my fault.”

“It’s not. The voices took advantage of you. Meanwhile I was too busy arguing with Nathaniel to even notice you getting away. Which was so dumb, Nath and I weren't even really opposing, both of us were just frustrated with each other and with the whole situation.”

“I was going to talk to Luka. I had spoken to him, asked if he—”

“You never got to him,” Alya explained. “We had noticed you missing when he had come over to ask about you. The voices must’ve tampered so much with your mind at that point, you only imagined speaking to him.”

“O-oh…”

They stayed like this for a while, Marinette enjoying the warm embrace.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused.”

“Don’t apologize,” Alya insisted, unwrapping her arms from Marinette. “You fell victim to the voices, this isn’t your fault. From now on, we’ll be more careful. I’ll look after you, you can look after me, and together we’ll make it through this. Okay?”

Marinette smiled. “Yeah, okay. Thank you for being there.”

“Of course, that's what friends are for, right?”

“Oh, and also, I picked up your sketchbook,” Alya mentioned, and Marinette immediately tensed up. Had she read her apology?

“Relax, girl. I didn’t peek,” Alya winked. Marinette let out a relieved sigh. 

“Oh, thank god.”

The two women chuckled, then there was a knock on the door.

“Alya?” Luka’s voice penetrated the door. “Just checking in, is everything okay in there?”

“Marinette woke up. Still a little shaken up, but okay,” Alya answered.

“Oh, I’m glad,” he said, his voice sounding relieved. “Marinette, is there anything you need right now?”

Alya turned to Marinette. “Uhm… I also meant to ask, what is it with you and Luka? You also apologized to him several times.”

Marinette froze. She couldn’t tell Alya the truth. “Oh, I… me and him had a small… fight, I guess you could call it?”

Alya tilted her head. “A fight?”

“It’s… personal, I’m afraid. Please don’t ask further…”

The journalist didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, but lucky for Marinette she chuckled and got up. “You’re making it so hard when you’re being so secretive. But you had a hard day, so I’ll let it slide. Should we let him in and you can talk in private?”

Marinette smiled. “That would be great.” This was it, for real this time. He had already saved her from the voices today, so that’s the least she could do for him.

Alya nodded and opened the door. “Please enter,” she told the conductor and he obliged, stepping into the cabin after Alya winked at Marinette one last time before leaving.

Luka met her eyes and despite giving her a kind smile, Marinette could tell that beneath that he felt nervous.

“Marinette,” his voice was soft, “how are you feeling?”

Marinette made a so-so movement with her hand. “I’m still exhausted, but I’m happy to be back to normal. That was quite… well… an experience.”

“I know, I was there.” Luka let out a bitter chuckle.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah… I’m glad you were, I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Luka smiled. “You were the one battling the hallucinations.”

“With your help, mostly. Just take the credit.”

Luka sighed and shook his head. “It wouldn’t have come this far if I had just been more careful,” he said in a serious tone. “With so many travelers asking questions and needing comfort, I ultimately failed to take care of everyone. You left the dining car and I didn’t even notice that until it was almost too late. For that, I am so sorry. I failed you, Marinette.”

He bowed to her, his eyes lowered, as if he didn’t deserve to even look at her. Like he was ashamed.

“Luka, please don’t beat yourself up over that.” Marinette reached out for him, resting her hand on his arm. “You still saved me. Even if you made a mistake, you fixed it.”

“I should’ve prevented it in the first place,” Luka argued back, but Marinette shook her head. 

“This is a thing of the past now, we can’t change what happened. You’re the last person I want to blame for today, but if it eases your mind, I forgive you.”

He slowly looked up again, his shy eyes meeting hers, and when she gave him a smile, he returned it. “I was so relieved when you came back,” he said, his eyes seemingly sparkling. It made her hide a chuckle behind her hand. How could anyone be so sweet?

“Luka, there’s something else,” Marinette said after a short while, pulling her knees to her chest and patting an empty space on her bed, inviting him to sit. “I… I also want to apologize to you.”

Luka blinked at her confused as he took a seat. “You don’t—” 

“I’m not talking about the voices,” Marinette interrupted him. “I meant… you know, the thing… uhm...”

Her hands were fisting the blanket. Here goes nothing.

“You… probably noticed that you were part of my hallucination. A big part, actually. I thought you were behind me when we… I walked to my cabin. I was preparing to apologize to you, and then you… or the voice that was imitating you…”

Tears pricked at her eyes again. God damnit, why was this always so hard? Why couldn’t she just say what she wanted to say?

Luka had immediately moved closer to her and wiped the tears from her face. “Hey, it’s okay, just breathe, Marinette. You’re safe.”

The gentleness in her voice made her cry even harder. He was so kind. So caring. So wonderful.

His hands were comfortingly warm against her cheeks. The way his thumbs gently stroked her cheeks had her weak with how intimate this suddenly felt. Her eyes flew wide open, staring at him. He blinked a few times before removing his hands and looking away.

“Ah, s-sorry…”

“No, It’s…”

“I just…”

“I know, yeah…”

Marinette did what Luka told her. Despite her heart heavily pounding in her chest, she took a deep breath in, deep breath out, until she felt like she was relaxing again.

“Look, whatever this hallucination told you isn’t true, Marinette,” Luka calmly explained. “They just twist your fears and doubts into—”

“That’s not the point,” she cut him off and he actually flinched at her abrupt words. “Sorry… I mean that… the point… or like, part of the point, uhm… What I’m trying to say is, I wanted to apologize about our talk that we had. Where you told me that you… don’t have a soulmate.”

Getting the words out felt like a burden was immediately lifted from her shoulders. 

Luka immediately tensed up a little. “O-oh, that.”

“It’s just…I reacted poorly when you told me. And the following days I was too much of a chicken to even look you in the eyes. I felt so awkward about it. Well, not directly about you not having a soulmate, that would be extremely weird, but just… in general…”

She blinked up to him. His expression hadn’t changed, he just looked at her with patient eyes and gave her a small nod, indicating that he was listening. Not like the version the voices had created at all.

“I guess… none of this would’ve happened had I not gone to you and talked about not knowing whether my soulmate might like me or not. I wasn’t able to really deal with my own emotions, and in the process I did more harm than good for both of us. And afterwards, I… I was afraid that you might’ve felt backed into a corner, like you had to reveal something about yourself you didn’t want others to know. And I just… I didn’t know how to deal with that either and—”

Luka shut her up. He gently put a finger on her lips.

“I appreciate the apology,” Luka said, “I really do. But you don’t have to say sorry. For that, I also am the one who owes you an apology.”

That made her stop altogether. “F-for what?”

“For making the conversation about me. We were talking about you and how you were getting used to everything, how you were feeling insecure and I just threw that in, completely unprompted. I don’t even know what came over me that I blurted that out.”

“But—”

“Please, no buts,” he said, “I had made the conversation about me instead of you and then  quite abruptly had walked off. That was extremely unprofessional of me and I’m incredibly sorry about that.”

“Luka…”

“And I wanted to talk to you about it, to ease your mind, and instead, I even failed you in that regard. I wasn’t able to comfort you or help you with your anxiety. Instead I just caused you more distress, and today, you almost paid the price…”

He had averted his gaze, his blue bangs falling into his face. Marinette lifted her hand to brush them off, but he moved away. It almost seemed like he was even more ashamed than before.

“I’ve said it before, this isn’t your fault, Luka! You still protected me. Besides, I was the one avoiding you because I felt too afraid to face you. So I didn’t exactly do anything to make your job any easier.”

“But I—”

“It’s not your fault,” Marinette repeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You still saved me in the end.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. “God I… I’m so glad I managed that at least. I would’ve never forgiven myself if anything happened to you! Or…”—was he blushing?—”any other passenger, for that matter.”

Marinette chuckled. “You know, I really admire that about you. Everyone came to you this morning after the announcement, and your presence alone was helping people to ease their minds. That’s an incredible talent and you should give yourself credit for it, especially when they’re as difficult to deal with as I am.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You’re not difficult.” Luka rolled his eyes. “Just anxious, and a little confused. But it’s okay to feel that way, really. I need you to understand that your feelings are valid and you should never feel guilty for ever opening up to me about it. And I hope that in the future, you’ll still feel comfortable enough to come to me if you need somebody to talk to. Obviously you don’t have to...”

“I do feel comfortable around you, Luka,” Marinette said. “And I’d want you to be able to come to me, too. I’m probably not as good as you in that sort of stuff, but that goes both ways, right?”

His smile grew wider. “That’s still my job, but thank you for the offer.”

“So, are we okay?”

Luka smiled. "Sure. As long as you don’t see me in a different light because of the whole no soulmate thing. I know I’m an anomaly in that regard. It’s weird for others, and many give me pity over it, which is why I normally keep it to myself, but it’s not the end of the world or anything. I mean, it kind of was when I found out, but I learned to live with it. Everybody is their own person, with or without a soulmate. I’m still Luka, soulmate or not. I have my destiny, just like everybody else and it’s to unite people with their soulmates.”

For a second, she wondered if he explained that to her, or more to himself. Admittedly, there were a thousand more questions Marinette wanted to ask, but she held herself back. Instead, she leaned closer and found the courage to wrap her arms around him and pull him into a hug. He froze for a second, seemingly caught off guard, but then quickly relaxed.

“I’m glad I can travel with you as my conductor. For what it’s worth, I think you’re great at your job. I feel safe when I’m around you.”

Luka chuckled. “That’s sweet of you, thanks.”

She tightened the embrace a little, just to remember the feel of him being in her arms, his head resting on hers, before she released him and pulled away. But the way he looked at her with gratitude and maybe a little adoration made her heart swell all the same.

“You should probably get some rest,” he said after a while, but she stopped him.

“Actually, do you mind staying a little longer? You don’t have to, you’ve already done so much for me today—”

He interrupted her with a chuckle. “I don’t mind staying a little longer, if it means you’re feeling safe. It’s my job, after all.” He winked at her and Marinette almost regretted asking him to stay with how the warmth crept up her cheeks almost immediately. 

“I think it’s admirable how serious you take it, despite having to deal with people like me,” she laughed. He shook his head. “You’re not hard to deal with, we've been over this. I’ve been doing this job for two years now, I know when a traveler is hard to deal with.”

Marinette rested her head on her knees. “Two years only? Did you know before that that you…” She drifted off, then violently shook her head. “No, nevermind! Forget what I just said, you—”

“Do you really want to know?”

She blinked at him. He looked at her with a serious expression, biting his lips repeatedly. It seemed a little like he might’ve wanted to take the words back, but he didn’t.

“Uhm… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

His eyes wandered around the room, from the door to the lamp to the paintings on the wall. Then he let out a sigh. “You already know one of the most important secrets about me. I don’t mind telling you the rest, if you’re willing to listen.”

Marinette straightened up and moved closer to him.

[sariahsue]

Jealousy

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?" "Please, chaton," Marinette said. "Don't do this to yourself." "I just want to know." Softly she said, "It would have been so easy."

***

Marinette leaned into Chat Noir's side as she stared at their abandoned Uno cards (she had won three rounds in a row). They were on the floor in her room, surrounded pink fabric and dim twilight.

"Hey, Bug?"

"Hm?" It was strange, how easily she'd gotten used to him knowing her identity. It had been an accident, but she wouldn't change anything now.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice rumbled through her.

"Aren't you asking something now?" She'd expected a laugh or at least a resigned sigh, but he said nothing. Marinette pushed a wild card with her toe. "Sure."

"If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?"

Every point of contact her body had with his seemed suddenly electrified, her head on his shoulder, her arm against his, where her knee brushed his leg, and she shifted away to give herself some breathing space.

Her walls were bare. He'd asked permission to visit her at home, and she'd taken down almost every picture of Adrien. Evidence of her crush on someone else was not something she wanted to push on him every time he came over. He didn't deserve that.

"Um... do you want to play another round of Uno, or should we do something else?"

"Marinette, I'm serious. Would you have?"

Chat Noir wasn't often serious. If he wanted to go down this path, the best she probably could do was make his pain quick.

She shrugged in response. "Maybe, I guess. Video games? I have UMS 4."

"Really, that's it? You guess? That's not a real answer."

"Please, chaton. Don't do this to yourself."

He slid closer, closing the tiny gap between them that she'd opened up. "I just want to know."

Twilight was slipping into full dark as they sat. The streetlamp outside her window blinked on. He wasn't going to back down on this, was he? Fine. As quickly as she could, then.

"You're kind and compassionate. You're reliable. You're funny." Again, she waited for some reaction, a laugh, a self-satisfied "I knew it!" but he only waited for her to finish. "We have such a strong connection, and I trust you with my life. You're brave. You're my best friend." Softly she added, "It would have been so easy. That's the real answer."

The room was quiet enough that she heard how fast his breathing was. They were so close together that she swore she could feel his pounding heart. Or maybe that was hers. Sitting side-by-side made her feel like a coward. It was too easy to avoid his eyes.

How badly had she hurt him?

"So why haven't you talked to him yet?" Chat Noir asked.

"What?"

"If you'd pick him over all that, then you must like him a lot, but you aren't together. And I can't imagine anyone rejecting you, so you must not have asked him out yet."

Maybe she should have added perceptive to the list, but to be fair he'd never been so devastatingly accurate before.

At least this was something they could laugh at together. "I'm... very awkward around him. I'm pretty sure I make him uncomfortable sometimes."

"I doubt it," he said. "So who is he?"

Marinette got up. She suddenly needed some movement. Time to think. More space. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate this!" Marinette turned to face him for this first time that night. "I hate hurting you every time you bring it up."

He leaned back like he was unconcerned, but he didn't return her gaze. "I'm only curious," he said. "I just want to know what type of person attracts Ladybug. That's all."

"I'll tell you under two conditions."

He stopped studying her mannequin to peek at her from the corner of his eye.

"One, you stop asking about it. Two, you don't laugh at me."

He finally turned to her completely. "Laugh? Why would I laugh?"

Part of her wished that he would. His laugh would be a welcome sound right now.

"Because you're going to think it's a celebrity crush, and it's not."

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

Marinette groaned. Nothing to do about it now except get it over with. "Adrien Agreste."

Chat Noir was on his feet so fast Marinette almost didn't see him move. "Plagg, claws-"

She didn't hear the rest of his sentence over her shrieking "NO!" but did she see the flash of green light behind her eyelids. "What are you doing? Put your suit back on!"

"No."

"I'm not going to look at you."

Where were the kwamis? Why weren't they telling him this was a bad idea?

"You have to retransform." Marinette backed up until she hit her desk. What on earth was he doing?

"No, not until you look."

"You'll have to," she said. "You can't walk out my front door and let people see you. You'll have to leave the way you came in."

"You're just going to keep your eyes closed for the rest of the night?"

She nodded.

Soft footsteps walked toward her. It wasn't the normal tap of boots that she was used to. It sounded wrong. Another reminder that one mistake from her would put his identity in jeopardy. He stopped right in front of her, circled his arms around her loosely and waited. It wasn't until she let herself sink against his chest that he tightened his grip.

"I'm not opening my eyes," she said.

"Then please just listen to my voice," the boy who was Chat Noir said. "I won't tell you my name, but please just listen?"

She nodded, her face buried in his neck. Even if she did open her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see him.

"When I'm not transformed, I'm much quieter."

"A quiet Chat Noir?" Marinette asked. "What must that be like?"

"I don't show off either. I try to avoid attention, actually. I get too much of it."

As he spoke, his voice started to change, matching the quieter, more gentle picture of himself that he painted for her. It sounded like... like...

"Did you know that we know each other outside the masks? We go to the same school."

With each sentence, Marinette began to realize that his voice was achingly familiar. He still sounded like her partner, on days that they were just talking or when they'd share sad stories. But he also sounded like someone else, someone whose voice she'd thought she knew by heart.

He stopped talking, letting her figure out the truth in silence.

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't. But her fingers could wander. They found his ungloved hand first, then moved up to his wrists. His forearms were bare, and as she expected, his sleeve had been rolled up above his elbow. Her fingers skimmed his upper arm and across his shoulder to his neck. She found the buttons of an open overshirt with a soft cotton tee underneath. If she wanted to, she could have reached up to touch his hair or trace her fingers over his nose and cheeks and eyelids, everything his mask usually hid. He would have let her.

Instead she leaned into his neck and felt his head drop on top of hers. Marinette finally opened her eyes. The overshirt was white. The tee underneath was black with colored stripes. Exactly how she remembered.

"You're kind and compassionate," he said. "You're brave and creative and amazing."

A tear slipped across her cheek. She was crying. When had that started?

"It was so easy to fall in love with you, Marinette."

Her hands left his shoulders to wrap around him and pull him closer to her. "I love you too, Adrien."

***

A/N: Written for Marichat May 2021. Prompt: Jealousy. @marichatmay