#but he needed to be sealed in a way the box would accept

[spidori]

Ok, first thought that won't leave me alone is, who is the soul who got reincarnated to result in this embodiment of pure peace and joy? Now I'm normally happy to stay entirely in one universe unless the prompt specifically calls a crossover out, but I feel like this is too good a chance not to grab the thread and run with it when I already know you like xDP stuff @evilminji So I propose this is a spirit of the Infinite Realms is getting to experience the joys of life multiplied by The Force after suffering the endless, slightly fuzzy, obsession clouded, eternal half-existence of the Realms. In short, Pariah Dark is high on Life (TM).

Yes, that Pariah Dark. No, seriously, hear me out.

First, what do we actually know about PD? That he's an incredibly powerful spirit, a tyrant king, and has apparently spiraled ever deeper into power-madness over untold ages of bearing the infinitely heavy crown of the Realms? Call me crazy, but those things seem like they could maybe, just barely possibly, definitely be linked.

I mean, can you imagine what existence must have been like for him as a ghost whose obsession was apparently with power? In the Realms!? Power is, at least quite often, about control; control is about being able to change things to what suits you; the Infinite Realms DOESN'T CHANGE!!! So you have Pariah, a new ghost literally formed around their central core desire to amass power for the purpose of enacting change, what else is he to do but seek the crown? He fights, learns the powers of his new form, learns he has quite a lot of them, learns how to make himself even stronger by forming contracts as well as using his previous experience as a king in life to form alliances. In short, he rises to the ghost equivalent of nobility in pretty short (by Infinite Realms standards) order.

And when he goes to challenge the old Ghost King for the crown, what if it wasn't by combat? What if he was a bloody good king in life? The kind of king who sees kingship as the highest position of service to their nation, and themselves as the most glorified servant, and both of those as good things worth upholding. What if Pariah still radiated that earnest desire to serve and help as a spirit, and that's what allowed him to form so many alliances the way he did?

So when he goes to challenge the old king, it isn't with swords drawn. Pariah walks into the throne room with a document in hand, signed by an overwhelming majority of Realms nobility to indicate that he has their trust and support to be king, and hands it to the current king.

No anger

No animosity

No fighting whatsoever.

The old king smiles! They ask Pariah whether this is truly what he wants, to which he answers in the affirmative, then the old king offers Pariah the three things every holder of the title must pass on to the next inheritor.

They offer him the ring. He accepts it.

They offer him the Crown. He accepts it.

They offer him the Warning. He should have accepted it.

In the early stages of the endless age that followed, Pariah would often think to himself that he should have listened to the old king's warning as he faded away with a look of grateful if slightly bitter acceptance. "The Realm is infinite, and you are not. You may grow as large and as powerful as you please, it won't matter, the Realm will still be too heavy for you to shift, much less actually move to your desires. I offer my sincerest hopes for you to successfully learn to exist with that truth without it destroying you, and I offer the warning that- if you do manage it- you would be the first ever Ghost King to accomplish that feat."

That was the beginning of Ghost King Pariah Dark's torturous existence, fueled and driven by his obsession to rise to power in order to enact changes for the better, and cursed with the knowledge of the indisputable truth that there was nowhere higher to climb than the very throne of impotence from which he now 'rules.' No surprise he went thoroughly insane, but without anyone else worthy enough to be accepted by the crown there was nothing for him to do but continue to bear its weight until it utterly broke him.

In his mad bid to change something, ANYTHING, he attempts his crusade to claim the world of the living; he 'reasons' that the living can change in ways the dead and never-alive are incapable of, and that if he can claim them for his realm than his people too will be capable of the growth his obsession desperately craves as its whole entire point.

And we all know the story of what happens next; a bunch of his former friends and allies, or their successors, shove him in a box of endless slumber. One sticking point though, how can the box contain the most powerful spirit in the Realm so effectively when his barest whim channeled through the Ring and Crown could reshape the very Ectoplasm the sarcophagus is formed from to release him? The answer is twofold; first, make it so he doesn't wish to break free from the box; second, as a backup safety measure, separate his will from the Ring and Crown so they can't amplify his whims.

In other words, that's how his consciousness ended up in this universe; it's not a dream, more of a partial spiritual displacement where his awareness is extruded into the space of a living but otherwise empty body.

Apparently force burnout is a thing that can happen when one opens themselves up fully to The Force, so let's go with that; some ridiculously force sensitive child who wasn't on a force-limited planet like Tatooine opened themselves up fully to the force before they could handle it (probably before they were even born) and burned their self away, leaving a perfect vessel for Pariah to be slotted into. Now he gets to experience all the joys and fullness of LIFE once more, without the constant pain of an unfulfilled obsession, or the basal gestalt consciousness of the Realm itself droning through the crown, no shit he wouldn't want to force his consciousness back into that unliving hell!

On top of that, he's had an eternity of practice keeping an iron grip on whatever bare slivers of sanity he refused to relinquish to his torment. In other words, he has had practice maintaining a peaceful and meditative state in just about the worst possible circumstances, now that he's practically in paradise it must be almost impossible not to maintain equanimity.

Which brings us all the way back to where we started, with the newly minted Darth Vader walking up to this child on the steps of the temple, touching his mind in all of his Sithly fury, and having all of that fury drowned out by a sense of peace so vast it was as though he had tried to evaporate the oceans of Kamino with a life-day candle.

The thing is, that mental touch was a two way thing; Anakin meant to overwhelm the child who stood before him with the power of the dark side and got overwhelmed instead, but he did push visions of the power and fury of the sith through that momentary link. Which leads me to ask, Pariah Dark, once and Eternal King, driven by a desire to change the workings of his world to what he believes would be better, would he be a natural light side user do you think?

Can you imagine? This four year old, learning about the dark side of the force from the newly minted sith apprentice, and just immediately doing a total turn to the dark side? One important caveat though, he's still completely at peace at calm and enjoying himself and alllll of that. The whispers of the dark side still have nothing on what he's learned to deal with. So instead, he takes his new thrall apprentice, Darth Vader, who was ever so kind as to introduce him to the perfect tool for him to use (and also reminds him of his favorite Knight back in the Realms), and calmly toddles off to go murder the conniving bastard of a political hack who would get in the way of his rule of this lovely universe.

I just realized? But a Reincarnated Force Sensitive Soul?

In Star Wars?

Would have a HELL of a time. Like... for real... you would be? Higher then most satellites. Assuming of course, you had ACCEPTED you're death. Made peace with it. Which? The Force would probably knock out for you?? In like... 3-4 business days. Tops.

What with being Connected To The Heart Of EVERYTHING.

Taste-Smell-Soul-Feel the RAINBOW and be at PEACE, bitch! Your Vibes are transcendent and your crops sublime.

It's? Probably like if LSD had not down sides or bad trips. You are ALREADY Luminous. Barely connected to this fragile matter. What do YOU care? Why be upset... about ANYTHING? Isn't the fragile light of this nearby fern ENCHANTING? Watch as it grows. Let's sit here for hours. Miss meal time. Pass out from hunger and dehydration, cause we forgot the flesh of our form need support, and we are a toddler.

We were watching grass grow.

At one with the universe.

No, we aren't paying attention. We haven't been and probably won't be. We concern people greatly. It's a legitimate medical concern.

Cause like?? Born knowing you are to die again. That this is all a beautiful dream. Why pay attention? Get attached? Why not relax instead? Watch the starlight. Ponder the flow of the Force through the trees? Lay by the fountains and just... listen to the water. Know Peace. Give Peace. Accept that it will end.

Be somehow the MOST Jedi a Jedi has ever been AND a living testament to how it is unsustainable to be so. You connect to no one. Cling to nothing. You do not thrive, you HAUNT. Your serenity is peaceful, yes. But it is the peace of the dead.

Is this what they have become?

It'd be? Very interesting? To see Cannon change? BECAUSE a character accepts it. Decides to do... nothing. In fact, so PROFOUNDLY does Nothing. So COMPLETELY is at Peace with their Inevitable Death... it horrifies everyone around them into action.

Is the small child, at utter Peace, radiating Acceptance and Tranquility, on the Temple steps. Well beyond the Gaurds. Knowing EXACTLY why Skywalker is walking towards them. Not looking up. Not stopping their meditation. Just... small. Peaceful. Someone who has never hurt him and isn't armed.

All it would take... is one movement.

A single slash.

So.....so why isn't he? W-why? (Because they're small. Because Padme wouldn't want this. Because they don't feel scared or angry or...or... Force, when has he last felt such... such peace? He's so tired.)

I can imagine, they'd still TRY to protect the innocent. It's different acceptance of your own End and acceptance of another's. But? It'd be so sadly beautiful? Hushed. And they'd make such huge differences while changing nothing at all.

That's just what haunting my brain, at least.

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @mayfay @babbling-babull @hypewinter

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

[gjsatorus]

hey daddy !

summary: gojo comes back from the prison realm

— gn reader, established relationship, fluff, one suggestive joke, not proofread (i wrote this at midnight which is also why it’s all over the place sorry y’all 😭)

note: it’s been another week without satoru and i’m going crazy like i need him back soon bc i can’t live like this (remind me to write one for when he comes back to life too)

it’s been days, weeks even. since you last saw your one and only, gojo satoru. many people have probably heard of his name, many people knew him, many people agree that he’s the strongest. but to think that he got sealed in that stupid box was baffling honestly. (i hate you kenjaku)

so here you are, coming home from work, patiently waiting for him to come back home. you were getting worried as the days pass on. the lonely nights without him, the nights where you just want to feel his warmth again, to feel his arms around you again. maybe you took him for granted and he won’t ever come back.

19 days without him. you just came back from work, finished showering and everything. now you’re making dinner for yourself, that was until you heard a knock on the door. you freeze up, who could be at the door at this hour? you grab a frying pan for defense and went towards the door, you look out of the window and.. is that satoru?

you open the door immediately, greeted by the man himself however his appearance is different. gojo has became more buff and it looks like he has changed clothes in the prison realm? “baby..” he sighs out, his blue eyes softening once they meet yours. you felt your eyes glisten while hearing his voice again, “i miss you too since you couldn’t say it yourself,” satoru clicks his tongue playfully.

“t-toru..” you mumble out, voice slightly shaky. the frying pan you held drops to the floor as you pulled him into a hug. he gladly accepts the hug, wrapping his strong arms around you. your soft sobs were heard, you look up at him with a gentle smile on your face. “i’m glad you made it back home, toru,” you managed to say, burying your face deeper into his chest.

“i’m glad i could make it back to you sweetheart,” satoru grins, tears welling up in his eyes too, deciding to make the situation a little more lighter. he threw you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, immediately you protest, struggling to get out of his grasp. “put me down toru!” you choked out, “can’t hear ya sweetie,” he smacks your ass as he pretends not to hear your threats and continues walking into the house.

he places you on the couch, kissing your lips as you pull him closer. he pulls away despite your whines and lays on top of you, hearing out a small “oomf!” from you. “you’re heavy toru,” you tease, not minding it a single bit. “i knowww,” his words drag out of tiredness, “i miss you darling,” you sigh while massaging the back of his head. “told me that already,” he pouts and you lightly smack his head.

“ow! you haven’t seen me in days and you’re already abusing me!” he dramatically accuses you, “maybe that’s just my way of showing affection gojo satoru,” you told back, the pout still on his glossy lips. “i loveeee my baby so much! missed them so much too, miss how they would tease me all the time,” satoru suddenly started to leave kisses all over your face.

“i love you too toru, missed your touch, and missed this pretty face too,” you did the same thing to him, seeing his cheeks flush a bit. the both of you stayed silent, quietly basking in each other’s warmth. “so when did you have this whole makeover?” you pointed at his tight black shirt and glance at his muscles, “don’t worry about it baby,” he chuckled, leaning closer to you.

[wooahaes]

signed, sealed, delivered

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: mentions of reader wearing makeup. food mentions. temporary long distance due to work.

word count: ~1.3k

daisy's notes: imagine sealing em w lil heart shaped stickers tho...

“You should look outside our door.” 

Halfway through doing your makeup for the day, Jeonghan casually spoke up. When you gave him a confused look, he merely smiled at you. He had video-called you from his hotel room as soon as you responded to his messages, apparently relaxing in it after a long day of working with a foreign company. He had his dinner set in front of him, poking through it with the fork they’d given him, as he gave you this knowing look. Even from your bedroom, you could hear the loud knock on your door. You pushed away from your little vanity once you felt presentable enough to face someone, and made your way through the apartment. When you opened the door, Joshua Hong was standing there, waiting for you with this proud smile on his face. 

“Good morning,” he smiled at you. “And,” he pulled a box out from behind him, Jeonghan’s writing on the lid reading to my love. “Happy birthday.” He slapped an extra envelope on top. “That’s from me—I know how you feel about gifts, so,” he nodded toward it one extra time, “it’s just money in there.” 

You slowly accepted it, looking down at it before growing a little more flustered. “How long has he been planning this?”

Joshua just smiled at you. “You look nice, by the way—”

“Oh, shut it,” you rolled your eyes as he snorted to himself. The only part of your face that was done were your eyes—you hadn’t even filled in your eyebrows yet. But Joshua knew he was one of the few people you’d let tease you in any way. But you stepped out, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. 

He bid you farewell soon enough, and you made your way back to your  bedroom after locking back up. You sat back down, setting aside the envelope as you looked at the box. “Hannie?” You didn’t look up, just knowing he still had that proud grin on his face. “What did you leave for me?”

He just rested his head in his hand, admiring you. “You’ll see. Open it.” 

Of course he wouldn’t just tell you. With a quiet sigh, you opened the box, setting the lid beside it as you picked up a note card that sat atop a selection of letters. In short and simple writing, the note card just said “For while I’m too far away.” You picked up one of the envelopes, each with a different date attached to them. They would span the entirety he was away from you now, some of them with different times for you to open them. The first one was marked for lunchtime today, and you looked back at your laptop.

“... Jeonghan?”

“You said you didn’t want any big gifts this year,” he said. “But we always go on dates for our birthdays. So…” He smiled at you again. “I’ll take you out when I come home. Until then, I wrote a lot of notes for you to read since we can’t talk as often right now.” 

Your heart softened at how much he cared for you. The day he told you he’d be away for work during your birthday, he’d held your hand and promised that he’d make it up to you. You had told him that he didn’t need to do anything special—the two of you could simply celebrate it when he came home again. But he kissed your knuckles and had that familiar twinkle in his eyes that told you Jeonghan already had a plan in place. But this? Little notes for you to read while he was gone? It made you a little misty-eyed, which was the worst thing when you were trying to get ready for the day.

Jeonghan had noticed, chuckling to himself. “Don’t cry,” he said, eyes twinkling as he admires you. “You can cry on me when I get back. You can do that thing where you bury your face in my shirt because you get embarrassed over crying—”

“Jeonghan,” you whined, pouting. He knew you too well, and he was always ready to tease you a little.

His gaze softened even further. “That’s my girl.” Then he straightened up, all too aware of how much he’d melted when watching you. “So,” he started, “what are your plans for—”

There was a knock on his door, and you saw Jeonghan turn in his chair. For a moment, he frowned, but he pushed away from his desk, calling out that he was coming. You could hear the door be unlocked, and the sound of Jeonghan conversing with someone before he came back over with a few of his coworkers following after him.

“Sorry, honey,” Jeonghan said as he turned back to you. “We’ve got a presentation tomorrow, so Jihoon wants to go over things—”

“Don’t blame it on me,” Jihoon said off-camera. “We were supposed to meet for dinner.” 

Jeonghan turned to him, face completely stoic. “It’s her birthday. Don’t blame her.”

A moment of silence passed. Jeonghan broke, chuckling as he glanced back at you for just a moment. Jihoon snorted, and then he stepped into frame.

“Right,” he said, giving you a quick, polite bow. “Happy birthday,” he paused, glancing at Jeonghan. “Sorry we’re stealing him from you.” 

“It’s fine,” you said with a hum, watching as Seungkwan came into frame in the background as he tried to set up his laptop. But he’d been stopped, as Mingyu had wrapped his arms around him, smiling into the camera as he waved at you. “We’ll talk later. Bye, Hannie! I love you—”

Jeonghan held up a hand, turning back to the others. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Seungkwan looked up, eyes widening before he realized. He waved to you. “Happy birthday! I hope you have a good day!”

Mingyu squeezed Seungkwan against his chest, jostling him slightly. He, too, waved, “Happy birthday! I’ll cook something for you when we come back!” 

With a giggle, you thanked them both. Jeonghan moved the laptop, angling it so that he was the only one in the frame now. 

“I love you,” he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow. Happy birthday, my angel.” 

The others immediately started to razz him in the background, but he just rolled his eyes before returning his attention to you.

“I’ll text you when I go to bed,” he promised. “Good night!” 

The call ended soon enough, leaving you to finish your makeup. By the time you finished your makeup, getting dressed, and eating a meal, you’d turned your attention back to the box of envelopes. It was a little too early to open the one for lunchtime today, but… It was your present, wasn’t it? You could open it if you wanted. So you plucked it out, sitting down on your bed to open it up. Inside was a note addressed to you in Jeonghan’s handwriting, and you curled up to read through it.

Have you eaten yet? I hope you have. You probably opened this early, knowing you—you get impatient when it comes to things like this. But it’s fine: I know this and I love you anyway.

I hate being away from you on your day. I know you said that you understood and it was fine, but I like getting to see you in the mornings, even if you’re always sleepy.

I don’t want these to be too long, so I’ll try to keep the rest shorter. Happy birthday, my love. I’ll make it all up to you when I’m home again.

You picked up your phone, snapped a picture of it and sent it to Jeonghan with a little heart emoji: I love you, angel. I can’t wait to see you again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @porridgesblog @staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[marlynnofmany]

Mystery Colors

Our first delivery after a bit of shore leave at the local space station, and it was a stealth mission. The client didn't say why they needed this delivery to be handed over without catching the attention of the authority figures at their work site, but they were paying extra for it. I wasn't part of the conversation. I don't know what other details Captain Sunlight got from them to make sure this was a safe risk on our account. But she was always smart about that sort of thing, and at any rate, she assured us all that we didn't need to worry. Flying in to an unpopulated area out of sight of the main science installation would be fine. 

We trusted that, but we were curious. And since the client was human, the rest of my crewmates volunteered me for the delivery in hopes of wheedling out some tactful details. 

I didn't object. I wanted to know too. 

So I got into my exo suit, checking all the seams and settings even though the safety gear was inspected regularly. This planet wasn’t even all that dangerous according to the readings — it was mostly terraformed to an acceptable standard, though the air wasn’t quite up to standard levels yet — but this felt like a good time to be careful. I wasn’t likely to be entrusted with any secrets if I passed out from lack of oxygen.

Paint was waiting for me with the box. “We’re almost there!” she said, scaly tail swishing behind her. “Best of luck!”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the box and wondering for the umpteenth time what was inside it. The logos were all from a megastore at the space station. Zhee had picked it up, and it was already sealed when he signed for it as official intermediary courier. The person at the checkout counter hadn’t known what it held either.

The engines made their usual landing hum. Since our ship had good landing gear and reliable artificial gravity, it would have been easy to miss otherwise. Paint scuttled out of the way while I walked toward the exit. Blip and Blop peeked around a corner, frills waving in curiosity. Zhee was parked in a cross hallway, not trying to hide.

He tapped one bug leg on the floor and said, “I hope to hear any juicy secrets first.”

Before I could answer that, Mur scooted by in a quiet slap of tentacles and put in, “I’ll be in the cockpit to see if Wio can eavesdrop with the sensors.”

I left Zhee to grumble about it and threaten to tattle on Mur for bothering the pilots. We all knew Zhee was just jealous that he was too big to perch in an out-of-the-way corner. At least he wasn’t Trrili’s size; she barely fit in the cockpit at all.

The door panel said the airlock was engaged, and the air outside was as expected. I stepped through the first door with the box held tight, letting it close behind me with a shush of air that drowned out the bickering in the hallway.

The outside door opened to let in bright sunlight, alien air, and distinctly less gravity. I didn’t notice that last until I stepped out onto the ramp and nearly made a fool of myself. Caught my balance, though. I tried not to leave finger-shaped dents in the box as I hopped awkwardly down the ramp and mentally kicked myself for not reading the briefing more thoroughly. I’d been focused on the air and hadn’t noticed that the gravity was lower than I was used to.

No time to worry about that now, though: a pair of human shapes in bright red exo suits were approaching from the edge of the flat rocky area. A metal roof visible over the boulders behind them was probably their own shuttle. Everything else in sight was rocks in a range of gray-to-orange colors. A hill in the distance held tinges of green that could have been plants.

“Hello!” said the human who was one step ahead of the other. She sounded a little younger than me. Her face wasn’t visible through the reflective visor. So clandestine. “Thank you for being prompt.”

I said, “We aim to please,” and managed to stop moving without smashing into either of them. They had clearly been working here long enough to get a feel for the gravity. “Here is your package,” I said as I handed it over, “And here is the payment tablet,” I added once my hands were free. I unhooked it from my waistband and passed it to the second human.

The first was busy ripping the box open like a kid with an anticipated present.

“Oh good, it’s the right kind!” she said in relief. She set the box on the dusty ground and pulled out something that I recognized as a turbo cleaning wand, the kind usually marketed towards the parents of small children. I’d seen artists use them too, both for cleanup and for making some neat inverted-color murals.

Not wanting to sound like I was doing more than making conversation, I said, “I’ve heard those are good ones.”

“They’re definitely the fastest,” the human said. “Lemme just see if they work on this particular ink.” She opened a thigh pocket with a rip of velcro, and took out what looked like a chunk of tile with deep pink scribbles on it.

The other human finished with the payment tablet and handed it back. “They’d better work,” he said. “If not, we’re toast.”

“How come?” I asked with concern in my voice, hoping that wasn’t too much.

I shouldn’t have worried. The first human activated the wand and wiped the tile clean in one swift pass, then laughed with clear relief. “Saved! We should have just enough time to get everything before the inspectors arrive. Now we just have to hope Julian didn’t leave any more of his rude notes somewhere we haven’t found. The shopping lists and tally marks would be bad enough, but his stuff would get all three of us canned immediately.”

I looked in the direction of the large encampment I’d seen from space. “Are you working this whole place alone?”

She laughed and put the tile back in her pocket. “Oh no, we’re just the only humans here. Everybody else is a Waterwill. Did you know those guys can’t see the color magenta?”

“Really!” I said. This was news to me.

She pulled a pen out of a different pocket. “These are completely invisible if you write on a pale surface. Which has been handy for keeping track of specimens when we feel lazy, and leaving each other notes by the door..”

“…But Julian took it a bit too far,” added the other guy. “With this gravity, he jumps and writes insults on the ceiling.”

“Ah,” I said. “I see why that might not go over well with inspectors. Who are not Waterwills, I take it?”

“Nope,” said the first human as she stowed the wand back in the box then picked the whole thing up. “But they’re not coming until tomorrow, so we should be able to clean it all away in time. Even if we have to do some quiet climbing around in the middle of the night.”

“Hey, what’s that?” the other human interrupted, reaching for something else in the box. He came up with a bundle of green cloth.

“Oh!” said the first. “That’s for Julian. I’m going to say it was at the bottom of the last food shipment as an error.”

When the guy unfolded it, the cloth proved to be a T-shirt patterned in green specks of multiple shades. The side toward me had black text that said “The Best.”

But the two humans were laughing about something on the back. When they saw my confusion, the guy turned it around.

Among all those green dots were a series of orange ones that spelled out “I’m colorblind! And also an asshole.”

The first human explained to me, “Julian is actually red-green colorblind. The magenta pens were for his benefit originally, since they don’t blend with the green ones like red does, and sometimes we need to chart things in color-coding. But—”

“But the Waterwills can’t see it at all,” the second continued. “So they were retired. Officially.”

“I see,” I said. “Well. Best of luck in cleaning up his messes!”

“Thank you!” they chorused. Once the shirt was stuffed into the bottom of the box and the lid was safely shut, they gave me a wave and bounded across the low-gravity rocks toward their waiting shuttle.

I made my awkward way back up the ramp to where my alien coworkers were waiting. I was considering an impromptu color vision test for them, just to see if something bright and obvious to me was invisible someone else onboard.

But then I realized that it would lead to a contest for smell-vision, and I was absolutely rubbish at that.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[galeorderbride]

👉🏼👈🏼 may you do headcanons for Rolan, Dammon and Wyll with a GN or Fem Tav that isn’t very physically strong, but an absolute beast with magic? I’m talking like, they’re breaking a sweat picking up a large battle axe, but casting spells is like second nature to them? Healing, debuffs, and attacking spells. They don’t make a show of it, but are quite proud of it. (My lil Tav is a bard and storm sorcerer, if that helps) (btw: I hope you have a nice day! 💖)

May you have a nice day too, anon! Thanks for this cute request! And also for your patience!

Tags: F!Tav (no appearance described), T rating, I went a little fluffy with these.

Headcanons below for Wyll, Dammon and Rolan (in that order):

Wyll:

Wouldn’t doubt you for a second! Since he joins Tav’s side as a companion, he’d see first hand how much of a beast she would be with magic. He might poke a little fun at her for struggling to move large rocks or missing a hit with her staff, but when she incinerates a goblin in one hit from a mere fire bolt cantrip, there can be no debate that Tav is a force to be reckoned with. Everything is all in good fun, and he’d become drawn to the little moments he’d see her playing with strands of weave to pass the time. Firelight glowing against her skin, cheeks blush from a glass or two of wine as purple strands flowed around her.

In between those fascinating moments, he’d take advantage of Tav’s lack of physical aptitude. Offering to pick up heavy objects for her, carry supply boxes to and from, chop wood for the fire (in hopes that she was in the sight line to be watching). For the first time, he’d feel useful without having to rely on his warlock powers. Simply labouring to help someone, and a person he grew to care about very deeply, at that. Seeing her smile and thank him every time was just a bonus.

His favourite moment was after fighting the Bullette in the Underdark. A particularly taxing beast, and one that took a sinister swipe at him as he got a little too close with his rapier. The creature left a large gash on his arm, blood pooling out of the wound and staining his shirt. Tav wasn’t a cleric, he accepted having to wait until arriving at camp for Shadowheart’s help. But he was wrong.

Tav sat him down on a broken tree stump and began to hover her hand over the wound. Azure particles of healing magic sealing the cut and cleaning off the drying blood. Wyll shivered at her touch, overwhelmed by both the feeling of sizzling weave and the intimacy between them. Foreign to him after so many years playing the Blade of Frontiers, avoiding the ire of Mizora. He inched a little closer to Tav on the log, sighing in relief as the agony of his injury disappeared. Left only with their faces inching closer.

“You are full of surprises,” he said.

Dammon:

He’s all about smithing, crafting tools and weapons with the heaviest, toughest metals. Infernal iron being the most interesting to him. Getting to know Tav had provided much needed motivation to keep with his work, as she’d allow him to information dump on his favourite kinds of elements, how much he learned in his time in Avernus, even showing her blueprints he created. She was simply a joy to talk to, and had fascinating things to say about all things magic. Reminding him a bit of Rolan, but not quite so proud of her gift.

Ultimately, he is charmed by Tav’s humility. Treating magic as a labour of love rather than a weapon or status symbol to behold. In perfection, there was imperfection, Dammon knew that well. And he was positively charmed when Tav tried to help him move a large battle axe out of the way, struggling to drag it to the nearest corner of his makeshift shop. Trying to hide the grunts and heavy breaths as she used both arms to slide the weapon back. Dammon grinned, stuck in how adorable she looked when she didn’t notice him noticing her. He blew his cover, laughing out loud when Tav swore under her breath and used a sending spell to drive the axe into the corner with a smack against the wooden bearing.

“Were you watching me just now?” She asked, brow raised in a cheeky expression.

He raised his hands in defeat. “Was a little difficult when you sounded like an ox in pain.”

She scoffed, containing her laugh, “Don’t you know how to compliment a lady.”

Dammon cleared his throat, masking the nervousness that still coated his face every time she did something even adjacent to flirting. Leave it to a sorcerer to render someone speechless, a charisma only championed by a witty warlock.

Tav smiled, patting his shoulder as she said, “Don’t worry, just joking around. You’re right, after all, I am the weakest link when it comes to strength. It’s either magic or endurance, really.”

“Well,” Dammon started with a careful smirk, “You certainly showed that axe who’s boss with that magic of yours.”

Dammon had a silent thought as the two of them eyed each other from across the shop. A potential, an idea he dared not think too hard about lest he jinx any chance of it happening. Maybe the two of them could make up for what the other didn’t have. She could bring forth a strong, admirable magic while he supplied the strength, the tools. He’d never be a Herculean warrior, but he could lift pounds and pounds of heavy metal after years of blacksmithing. And if she were ever in need of such services, he’d be there in a heartbeat.

Rolan:

Both him and Tav are casters, fascinated and intertwined with the magic of the weave. One might think that Rolan would find friendly solidarity with a fellow spell caster, but things are never that simple with him, are they? At first, Rolan might be a little dismissive towards Tav, especially if she’s a sorcerer rather than a wizard. He’d humour the times he’d see Tav do magic, acknowledging it to be impressive but unpractised. Ignoring the eye rolls from Cal and Lia who saw right through his ruse.

That ruse being that, deep down, Rolan felt a little envious of Tav’s abilities. Especially as the goblins closed in on the Grove, Tav and her companions fought alongside the tieflings atop the fortified gate. Her spell work was decisive, powerful. High level spells and cantrips wreaking havoc on the goblins below, a firebolt at the oil barrels causing an explosion. Followed by a skilled thunder wave to knock spiders off the platforms. This wasn’t to say he didn’t do his part, a detail oriented and savvy wizard. But as capable as he was, he also found himself with the nasty habit of comparing himself to others.

After the fight, Rolan sat on a pair of discarded boxes as Cal and Lia excitedly re-enacted the battle. Joking and horsing around with some of the tiefling kids while the adults began to pack up for the road. Tav was there as well, doing her part to contribute as always. Smiling and chatting with the refugees as she walked slowly up the path to the Grove. She ended at Rolan, standing over him with a soft grin, glinting in the dusty sunlight behind her. Hair moving in the little breeze, wafting with the scent of fresh water and florals. An aura that, somehow, left him calm. A feeling he’d been having since the party at her camp. When he’d managed to actually talk to her for a few minutes without trying to prove himself. He thought back to that a lot.

“Mind if I sit down with you?” She asked, seating herself on the box next to his when he nodded.

“I figured you’d be out there helping pack everyone’s wagon,” Rolan said, eyes shifting from side to side, unable to look her in the eye without an embarrassing blush not even his complexion could hide.

She chuckled, “Admittedly, I’m not much help. Bex and Danis did their best to humour me as I struggled to put a single box on the wagon. Hard not to give up after a minute.”

Rolan sighed, “I see. I’m not the strongest out there either. Not exactly a talent of most wizards.”

“At least we have our magic,” she said. “I enjoyed creating those little illusions with you at the party. Maybe we can do that again sometime?”

He thought back to that moment, when she caught him performing a little magic for Cal and Lia. She clapped for him, a blip of encouragement next to the teasing of his siblings. Tav and him walked off together, he wasn’t exactly sure how she convinced him to do that, and they did more illusory magic together. Creating different colours and effects, Tav even created a stag, saying he reminded her of the calm but confident creature. He was a nervous mess the entire time. Fumbling words, avoiding eye contact. Never gaining the courage to tell her how much he enjoyed that night.

He cleared his throat, shrugging off the lurching anxiety over what the right thing to say was. “If we manage to cross paths again. Perhaps we could.”

Tav smiled, knocking her arm against his playfully. “I look forward to it.”

[ritcchamadayo]

Hello, there! Heard that you're in need of some ideas in what to write/make. I've got one: some fluffy, romantic headcannons in which Leona Kingscholar's fem! s/o secretly sends him a love letter and some chocolates and Leona searches for the sender of the gifts. How will it end? Please and thanks!

hi there, thanks for sending in an idea~!

Leona would definitely be the type to quietly investigate, such a sweet idea~

Secret Admirer

Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader ; On Valentine's day, you decided to anonymously leave a gift for Leona. Leona, taking an interest in the little challenge, tries to find out who his secret admirer is.

"Hm? What's this?" Leona watches from his bed, one eye open. His green eyes glanced towards Ruggie, who was putting down a well-decorated box and an intricate letter on Leona's desk.

"Shishishi, someone left a message for you. I just thought I'd bring it back to you before any of the other students see~"

Leona stood up and walked over to the box, shaking the contents. It was an intricate box with a brown lid, tied with an elegant ribbon. Above it was a simple letter, with a wax seal on top. It smelled oddly like flowers, Leona thought.

"Who's this from?"

"How should I know, I found it out front."

Leona opened the box to see a few rows of chocolate neatly placed, each of them were carefully made and placed inside the box to ensure it arrives to Leona in pristine condition. Ruggie was already halfway trying to swipe a few chocolates from Leona when the lion slapped his hand away, rolling his eyes. "At least be more discreet if you're gonna pull somethin' like that."

Ruggie chuckled and shrugged, walking away from Leona. "Aight, I'll try again later~" Leona took the letter and laid back on his bed, opening the letter with a yawn. "I swear, if this is another weird thing from Falena..."

*To : Leona Kingscholar, Housewarden of Savanaclaw* It may seem a little silly of me to write a letter for you. I am just a simple admirer from afar, writing to you to express my feelings.

I've been in love with you for the past year, Leona. The way you move, the way you counter quick remarks, the way you're always so quick on your feet and wise.. I've fallen for you quite hard it seems.

You're probably wondering who am I, or why would I send you this letter along with the chocolates. Truth is, I couldn't hold back my feelings anymore, but I'm too much of a coward to tell you in person. Please accept my gift and my letter. Perhaps, you can come find me if you wanted. *- Signed, your secret admirer.*

"Hoo, ain't this interesting." Leona smirked, eyeing the letter. It seems like the letter has piqued his interest, as he flipped the paper back and forth looking for more clues. The faint scent on the letter smells oddly familiar to him, further piquing his interest. "Alright, I'll take you up on this little detective game."

---

The next morning, Leona starts his move.

"Oi. Jack." Jack, coming back from his morning jog, approached his senior. "What's up, Leona-senpai?"

Leona waved the letter in his hand, showing it to Jack. "A little visitor seemed to have sent me a gift yesterday... Did you see anyone from outside the dorm enter recently?"

Jack scratched his head, trying to remember. "Um.. I think I remember a few. Like, people who wanted to play around with their Savanaclaw friends. I don't recall seeing anyone coming in to send a gift to you." Leona nodded. "Oh, so that's what the ruckus was yesterday. Just a few herbivores looking for amusement."

The beastman went on to ask a few other people from the dorm, with most of them not knowing anything. He knew he couldn't have asked Ruggie, even if it seemed like the Hyena knew something. Leona considered asking Rook, for one- but he'd rather not have to deal with his eccentric way of speaking.

Perhaps he'd have to go back to more... primitive ways of finding the sender, so to speak. Beastmen do have quite the sharp sense of smell.

Leona simply pretended to go about his day normally. With every passing student, he quickly manages to identify their scents. Some students smelled like a faint hint of flowers, mostly the residents of the Queendom of Hearts. Some students smelled like sweat, meanwhile others smelled like the "tacky and unnecessary" perfume that Vil wore. (Everyone else would beg to differ if he had said that out loud)

"..Hn?" In the midst of walking through the hallways, Leona caught the same exact scent from the letter. He glanced around discreetly, observing who might be around him. It's definitely not coming from the Scarabian students loitering around the hall, and it's definitely not the blonde 3rd year calling him "Roi des Lions" from afar...

Leona's eyes locked onto you, walking past him with your little group of friends. "Hoo... Interesting turn of events. I'll begin my chase then, Herbivore."

---

You had no idea what's going on, but Leona seemed to always be around the corner, trying to chase you down. "W-was it the letter..? Did I say something wrong..?" You thought, but Leona doesn't seem like he's angry or anything.

Leona himself wasn't trying to pull any moves. He kept observing you quietly, every time you pass by him he'd double check if the scent was correct, and he'd steal glances at your notebook to match the letter's handwriting.

Until one fateful day, where Leona finally decides to corner his prey for good. "Hey, Herbivore... Did you know how Lions hunt?"

Leona corners you in between the wall and his body, putting his arms beside your head so you can't try to slip out. "You see... We stalk our prey for a while, cornering them..."

Leona puts his finger on your chin, lifting it up so you'd gaze into his eyes.

"...And after that, they'd pounce for the prey." He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. You gasped in shock at first, before melting into the sensation and kissing him back. "Thanks for the little gift, Herbivore. Quite bold of you to think I wouldn't find out, though..."

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lute Headcanons: HER EGO!!!

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter. This one is Lute and her base headcanons as a yandere! So Good Luck :D I hope you all enjoy this chapter here!] 

(Disclaimer:  Lute is not yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lute From Hazbin Hotel- 

.Lute is Adam's Lieutenant and man oh man is she one of the most sadistic angels. 

.She appears to be heaven-born like Sera, Emily, and Vaggie she does not have ears, but Adam does. (and we know he was human) Or she was made in heaven like how Razzel and Dazzel were made in hell? 

.Lute is truly sadistic that she says take Vaggie Cunt mouth out of her ass. or something along those lines. 

.It is so sadistic that Adam is a bit uncomfortable and tells her to chill. 

.She also cut out Vaggie's eyes and cut off her wings. Forcing her to fall. 

.She is an elitist and maybe a bit racist as well. At least with hating ANY Demon. 

.If you are a demon she would see you in one to two ways. 

.As a pet for her enjoyment and to keep by her side. 

.Or the ONLY Demon worthy of redemption and or heaven. 

.If you were an angel she would see you as the good you are and she would never let you fall. 

.Now either way she has fallen for you and she needs to have you in her life. 

.She will move heaven and hell to get you by her side. 

(side note for YouTube/Tumblr ask box, if you want to see specifically how she would treat a demon sinner or hellborn or an angel comment in the ask box on Tumblr and look for a vote on my community page coming soon.) 

.She is very controlling of you and very hostile to anyone and every rival or possible rival. 

.You are hers and that makes you good. 

.She is very possessive and protective. 

.She also would most likely share you with Adam. 

.If anyone tried to hurt you, they would get an angelic spear to the eye. 

.If anyone tries to take you from here, oh look another angelic spear to the eye. 

.If anyone tried to make you theirs. Ah, Another Angelic spear to the eye. (LUTE GIRL I think you have a thing for removing someone's eyes! Three times is too much!) 

.She is holier than thou so she knows that she is the only one good enough for you. 

.She would slaughter everyone in her way, especially if they were demons, she does not even care if they are hellborns she will kill them as well. 

.She is not afraid to put you in your place as her property and future partner! 

. Especially if you are a demon. (again remember to put in the ask box or vote) 

.She deals with rivals by threatening them, harming them, and if those do not work, killing them. 

.Of course, she rarely has to kill them, also she is the more so coolheaded one at times. 

.But she can be pushed to snapping and when she snaps no one is safe. 

.She would stalk you for months before telling you how she feels about you. 

.Most likely cornering and manipulating you. 

.If you accept her love you have sealed your fate and she will have you moved in with her, and have you with her at almost all times. 

.Of course, if you say no, she will let you go for now... 

.Eventually, she will kidnap you in the dead of the night and lock you away. 

.She is going to break you, she will start with emotional and mental, and if that does not work she will hurt you. 

.Not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to make you see that you are hers. 

.Leaving quite and few scars for sure. 

.Do not worry if she causes more damage than she tends, she will fix you and make you love her. 

.After all, she is an angel and she was the best you would ever get so you might as well say yes, and be hers! 

.The ego on this yandere and that Angels cannot make mistakes even though she does when she is trying to break you? 

.Yeah she cannot see the bigger picture as she does not see her flaws and only sees that you and her are meant to be! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy!] 

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Medicine

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You told the boys you'd been waiting on medicine from home. You just didn't tell them what it is. Warnings: Chronic pain, discussions of marijuana Series Masterlist

The anticipation gnaws at you, a constant hum in the back of your mind. You've been waiting for this package—no, not just waiting—hoping for it, counting down the days until its arrival.

When it finally comes, it's unassuming: a small box wrapped in plain brown paper, sealed with a simple wax stamp. It could be anything, really—a care package from home, perhaps, filled with sweets and reminders of the muggle world you left behind. But as you peel away the layers, revealing the stasis box within, you know better. This isn't just any care package; it's salvation.

Inside, nestled among soft padding, are several tightly rolled joints, their scent faint but unmistakable. Marijuana. A familiar wave of relief washes over you, followed by a pang of guilt. It shouldn't have to be this way, sneaking around, relying on illegal substances to manage your pain. But what choice do you have? The wizarding world may offer many wonders, but it has yet to find an answer for the chronic ache that plagues your body.

You've mentioned it to them, of course—James, Sirius, Remus—that you're awaiting medication from home. What you haven't specified is the nature of that medicine, and for good reason. How could they understand?

It's not a matter of trust; you know without a doubt that they would keep your secret, guard it fiercely against prying eyes and wagging tongues. No, it's something else entirely—a fear that they might see you differently, that this revelation could somehow change things between you.

Marijuana is not something wizards deal with, after all. With their potions and spells, they've likely never had to consider the benefits of such a mundane, muggle remedy. And while they've accepted your quirks—the love for technology, the fascination with things they deem ordinary—they have yet to face something like this.

The sun dips below the horizon as darkness blankets Hogwarts. The faint murmur of students studying or whispering secrets before curfew fills the Gryffindor common room. Upstairs, away from prying eyes, you and your friends have gathered for a much-needed break from reality.

James lounges on one end of your bed, glasses perched precariously on his nose as he flips through Quidditch Through the Ages. Across from him, Sirius is sprawled out, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. Remus sits quietly by your desk, engrossed in a muggle novel that you lent him weeks ago.

Despite the comfort offered by the roaring fire and the companionship around you, there's a gnawing sensation in your bones—an ache that has grown more persistent over the past few days. It serves as a reminder of the package tucked away under your bed, unopened but never forgotten.

"You alright, love?" Sirius asks, catching sight of your grimace out of the corner of his eye.

"Just a bit tired," you reply, forcing a smile onto your face.

His grey eyes study you for a moment longer before nodding, seemingly satisfied with your answer. But the concern lingers, etched into the furrow of his brow—a silent testament to the bond formed between you all.

You push yourself off the bed, wincing slightly as your feet touch the cold stone floor. Winter is fast approaching, and with it comes the bitter chill that seeps into the castle walls—a constant reminder of the season's change—despite the numerous charms used to keep it at bay.

"Where're you going?" James questions, glancing up from his book.

"I need something," you say vaguely, moving towards your trunk at the foot of your bed. You crouch down and lift its lid, revealing various bits of clothing strewn haphazardly inside. Underneath them lies what you've been waiting for—the stasis box containing your mother's latest shipment.

Your fingers brush against the cool metal, and for a moment, you hesitate. This isn't how things should be—you shouldn't have to hide, shouldn't have to sneak around just to find some relief. But the throbbing pain coursing through your veins leaves little room for doubt.

It's time.

With a determined set to your jaw, you pull out the box and rise, placing it on your bedside table. Your heart thuds heavily in your chest, not from fear, but from the anticipation of what's to come—the promise of respite after endless days of discomfort.

"Care package from home?" Remus asks, looking up from his book. His voice is casual, but there's a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface.

"Something like that," you respond noncommittally, peeling back the tape securing the box. Inside are several smaller packages wrapped neatly in brown paper. At first glance, they seem innocent enough—bags filled with crisps and biscuits, even a few chocolate bars—but you know better.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap one of the parcels, revealing a stack of homemade brownies. Their rich, chocolatey scent wafts up, mingling with the subtle aroma of something more potent. Beside them, another package holds a collection of pre-rolled joints, each one meticulously crafted.

For a moment, you simply sit there, taking it all in—the familiarity of the items before you, the sense of normalcy they bring. It's a sharp contrast to the world outside your door, where magic reigns supreme and potions cure ailments. Yet, here in this small corner of Hogwarts, you grasp onto a piece of the Muggle life that once was.

"Your mum really does send the best stuff," James comments, reaching for a bag of crisps. He pops one into his mouth, crunching loudly as he watches you with interest.

"Yeah, she does," you agree, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. There's comfort in the routine, in the knowledge that this part of your life remains unchanged—even if everything else is different now.

"Are those... brownies?" Sirius asks suddenly, sitting up straighter. His eyes are fixed on the stack in front of you, curiosity piqued.

"They look amazing," Remus adds, leaning over to get a better view. The corners of his mouth turn upward slightly as he takes in the sight before him—a hint of longing hidden beneath layers of restraint.

You nod, carefully setting aside the brownie plate and unwrapping another package. This time, it reveals pre-rolled joints, their distinctive scent subtle but unmistakable.

James' brows furrow as he takes in the new items, clearly puzzled. "I thought you said you were waiting on medicine?"

"This is my medicine," you reply quietly, picking up one of the joints and studying it closely.

"You can't be serious," Sirius scoffs, earning himself a round of eye rolls from the others. Despite his playful tone, there's an edge of genuine disbelief in his voice. Marijuana isn't exactly common in the wizarding world—most wouldn't even recognize it if they saw it—and yet here it is, resting on your lap like the most natural thing in the world.

But while James and Sirius seem taken aback, you notice Remus watching you with a thoughtful gaze. Of everyone in the room, he might understand best—he was raised by a Muggle mother, after all.

"Yeah," you say, meeting Sirius's incredulous stare with a calm one of your own. "In the Muggle world, it's used for pain management among other things."

"But why?" James asks, his voice laced with confusion. "I mean, there have to be other potions that—"

"Can help," you finish for him. "But they don't always work as well as this does. Especially during the winter months when everything is worse."

The room falls silent again, save for the crackling fire in the hearth. You can feel their gazes on you, heavy with unspoken thoughts. But rather than shy away from them, you meet each one head-on. This may not be the typical wizarding way, but that doesn't make it any less valid—or necessary.

"When I take this," you continue, gesturing towards the box, "my muscles relax. The constant ache dulls until it's almost nonexistent. It's... peaceful."

For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes, leaning back against the cool stone wall behind you. The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, if only because you've finally said what needs to be said. When you open them again, both Sirius and James are staring at you—not with judgement or disbelief, but something akin to understanding.

"I'm not doing this for fun," you clarify, a hint of defiance creeping into your tone. "And I won't judge those who do—it's just... not why I use it."

"So, these," James starts, pointing at the plate of brownies before gesturing towards the joints, "they're all... medicinal?"

"In my case, yes." You nod, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers over the neatly rolled paper. Each one represents relief—a temporary reprieve from the relentless cycle of pain.

"And some people use it recreationally," Remus adds quietly, drawing everyone's attention to him. His expression is thoughtful, almost contemplative. "Muggles have been using cannabis for centuries, both medicinally and otherwise."

"That's right," you agree, grateful for his input. While you knew Remus would likely understand better than most, having his support still means more than you'd like to admit.

You sit back, letting the silence stretch between you once more. There's a certain heaviness to it now, charged with the weight of new understanding. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, you feel seen —not as just another student, but as someone navigating two worlds, each with its own set of rules and expectations.

"I never knew Muggles used plants like that," Sirius says, his voice low and filled with curiosity. His grey eyes dart between the box on your lap and your face, searching for clues to a world he's never fully understood.

James leans forward as well, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's fascinating," he admits. You can see the gears turning in his head, perhaps realising for the first time how different—and yet similar—your lives truly are. There may be no magic in marijuana, but it holds a power of its own.

"Is it something we could try?" Sirius asks suddenly, glancing at James before shifting his gaze back to you. The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications neither of you have fully considered.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Of course, they'd be curious—it's in their nature to push boundaries, to seek out new experiences. But this isn't just about rebellion or novelty; it's about understanding a part of your life that has remained hidden until now.

"I suppose I could share a little, but not tonight—at the weekend," you concede, reaching into the box to retrieve one of the joints. "But remember, this has to last me until Christmas. That's when I'll get my next batch."

"Understood," James responds, his tone serious despite the excitement flickering in his hazel eyes. He glances at Sirius, who gives him a curt nod in return—their silent agreement echoing through the room.

"Thank you for telling us, Y/N," Remus says softly, his brown eyes meeting yours with a warmth that belies the coolness of the room. "I... I can't pretend to understand what you're going through, but I appreciate your trust."

You give him a small nod in response, grateful for his understanding. He's always had a way of making people feel heard, and right now, you need that more than ever.

"Of course, Moony," you reply, using the endearing nickname that seems to fit him so well. "And if it could help..."

Your words trail off as you glance towards the box on your lap, its contents suddenly seeming even more significant. You've shared this part of yourself with them, and perhaps there's an opportunity here—to not only bridge the gap between two worlds but also bring relief to someone you care about.

Remus is different from the other boys—not just because he's quieter or more reserved, but because he straddles the line between the wizarding and muggle worlds in a way few others do. His father is a wizard, yes, but his mother is a muggle, and that dichotomy has shaped much of his perspective. It's why you believe he might be more open to trying something new, especially if it could ease some of his pain.

"After the next full moon," you begin, your voice barely more than a whisper, "if you want to try some... I think it could help."

The air in the room grows still, every eye turning towards you and then to Remus. It's no secret among the Marauders—or anyone who pays attention—that Remus' monthly disappearances align too perfectly with the lunar cycle. The toll it takes on his body is evident in the days that follow: the pallor of his skin, the shadows beneath his eyes, the stiff way he moves as though each step causes him pain.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his brow furrowing slightly. There's a cautious note in his voice, one that suggests he's weighing the potential risks against the possible benefits.

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't," you assure him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder gently. "We'll take it slow, okay? Just see how you feel."

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air once more—each of you lost in your own thoughts, considering the implications of what's been said.

But you don't need to speak to know what they're thinking. James and Sirius are grappling with the revelation that their friend suffers more than they knew, while Remus is contending with the possibility of relief—a prospect both tantalising and terrifying after years of enduring the unbearable.

"You don't have to decide now," you tell Remus, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just... think about it."

With gentle hands, you fold the brownies back into their parchment paper and tuck the joints away in their small tin box. The stasis charm on it ensures they'll stay fresh until needed—something that you brought in Diagon Alley.

The boys watch your movements, each one processing what they've just learned. This isn't a secret shared in hushed whispers behind closed doors; it's an open acknowledgment of something that's been part of your life for years.

There's no judgement in their eyes, only understanding. They've seen you manage your condition with dignity and practicality, even when the world outside these walls offers little support or empathy. But this revelation brings new depth to their respect for you, and perhaps, a glimmer of hope for Remus as well.

The room seems warmer, more intimate, filled with the silent promise of trust and acceptance. Even the flickering candles cast a softer glow, illuminating the corners where shadows once lurked. It's a moment suspended in time, marked by the steady tick of the clock and the faint rustle of fabric as you adjust your position on the bed.

"Let us know if there's anything we can do, Y/N," James finally says, breaking the silence. His voice is low, almost reverent—as though he understands the gravity of what you've shared.

"Anything at all," Sirius adds, his grey eyes meeting yours with uncharacteristic seriousness. "We're here for you."

"I know," you whisper, your throat tight with emotion. "I love you guys."

[daisynik7]

A Bento for Kento

Chapter 5: The Rules

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.0k

cw: Nanami angst (this poor man needs love), language

Summary: Gojo offers Nanami words of wisdom. You fry some chicken. Ren has something up his sleeve.

Notes: This chapter’s bento inspired by this: Karaage Bento. Links to the recipes for the rice balls and tamagoyaki are also included there! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are super appreciated, thank you!

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A Bento for Kento Masterlist

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Friday’s note has Nanami momentarily stunned.

That can be arranged ;) Happy Friday, Nanami.

He re-reads it again and again until he comes to a conclusion: This is flirting. Not playful, pretend flirting. It’s real, tangible, right-there-in-his-face. Her offer to make him a ham and cheese sandwich every day is already suggestive. The winky face seals the deal. Where does he go from here?

Nanami is not an inexperienced man by any means. When he was a stockbroker, he went on his fair share of dates. It was easier meeting people in that type of environment. It was stable.

Since changing his career, he swore to himself that he wouldn’t get married while he was still a Jujutsu Sorcerer. This job is dangerous. He puts himself at risk during every mission and he’s willing to do so. Why would he share a life with someone when he treats his own so expendably? He has convinced himself that in order to live this way, he has to be alone. For his sake and that of others. To protect his heart and prevent heartbreak.

Because that’s how the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer will end. Heartbreak.

He doesn’t date, because why bother? He can’t risk meeting someone and falling in love when there’s still that slim chance he will die on the job. He won’t allow himself to experience happiness, affection, or love from anyone because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s made his choice. Now he must accept the consequences. This is how it has to be. He’s harsh on himself because if he’s not, he’ll give in to moments of weakness. 

Moments of weakness, like this. 

It’s right there in front of him, and he can’t do anything about it. He won’t. He shouldn’t. He has to end it here before it begins. That’s the only way to move forward.

Kento Nanami is a grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer. Kento Nanami is a professional. Kento Nanami is a serious adult. Kento Nanami is alone.  

This is the way it has to be.

He pockets the note and eats his sandwich in silence. After he’s done, he closes the bento box and hands it over to Ren.

He does not write a note.

~~~

You stare at the empty Hello Kitty container, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You really screwed it up this time, thinking you could get away with being cheeky and cute. He didn’t even bother to respond, probably convinced you’re a grade A creep.

Why’d you have to include that winky face? What adult women passes notes to a man with a winky face on it? You’ve never met this guy! And now you’ll probably never meet because he’s already put a restraining order against you. By midnight tonight, you’ll be arrested for harassment. Great.

As your thoughts escalate to a ridiculous scale, Ren microwaves the popcorn in preparation for your Friday movie night. “Hey sis, are you okay? You’ve been standing there and staring at Hello Kitty for a while now.”

You turn towards him with a smile. “I’m all good! Just thinking about…work.”

It’s an unconvincing lie. Everybody knows you never think about work once it’s the weekend.

“Work? C’mon, what is this really about?” He takes the bag of popcorn from the microwave and opens it, letting some steam escape before tossing a few pieces into his mouth.

You contemplate what you want to tell him. Should you be honest? He’s been so open with you; it wouldn’t be fair to lie to him.

On the other hand, he’s a teenager, your younger brother. Why in the world would he be interested in any of this?

You make a split-second decision to tell him the truth. Basically, you explain to him that ever since you learned that his mentor has been eating the other box, you started to leave personalized notes for him, teetering on the flirtatious side. You recite each note said and Nanami’s responses. Then, you inform him about your latest message and how he didn’t respond.

You end your little rant with, “So what do you think?”

Ren’s face, which was amused at first, is now contorted into a grimace. He has since stopped eating popcorn and is clutching his stomach, like he’s in pain.

Concerned, you urge, “Ren, say something.”

After a few more moments, he yells, “Ewwwwwww!” You’re startled by his outburst, but you continue to listen.

“If I knew that you were going to flirt with my mentor, I would have never told you about the bentos! Gross.” He fakes a gagging reaction.

“C’mon, you’re overreacting!”

He ignores your comment. “And if I knew that he was going to flirt back, I definitely wouldn’t have given him the bento to begin with! Freakin’ gross.”

You rack your brain, processing what he said. “So, you think he was flirting back?”

His face goes back to normal, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I’ve only known the dude for a month, but I can tell you this. He would not send you a smiley face if it didn’t mean something. I mean, Gojo told me that he never uses emojis. Like, ever.” 

Ren strokes his chin, as if contemplating, then continues. “Also, he’s been acting weird all week. Maybe he didn’t know what to do about your little love letters to him.” He fakes a gag again.

You hunch over in defeat. “So I creeped him out. God, I’m such a loser.” It was all supposed to be playful and fun. But now you took it too far and ruined it. 

Ren walks towards you and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, you’re not a loser. Maybe he’s not used to women flirting with him and he didn’t know how to react?”

“Please, I’ve seen his picture. I’m sure lots of women flirt with him.”

Ren’s jaw drops. “Wait…how…? How have you seen his picture?”

“I did a search on him when you were still not telling me about Jujutsu High! I needed to make sure this guy wasn’t a cult leader!”

“So you Googled my teacher, and you think he’s…hot?!” Ren takes his hands off you to cover his ears. “I can’t listen to this anymore; this is too much.”

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have brought this up! You’re only making me feel worse!” You bury your face in your hands, wishing this whole scenario is some strange nightmare you could wake up from.  

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to flirt with my teacher!”

You ponder for a minute before declaring, “You know what? Let’s forget this whole thing happened. It’s not like I ever have to meet him. We’ll all move on, and I won’t send him anymore notes.”

You can’t tell if he’s concerned or still disgusted. After a little while, he finally speaks. “For what it’s worth, you wouldn’t like him anyways. He’s so serious and boring! He’d probably take you to a bookstore as a date.”

That actually sounds fun, you want to say. But instead, you just laugh.

Aware that Ren has had enough of this odd conversation, you start your movie night without bringing it up again. While your brother watches, you stare at the TV, lost in thought.

There was never any reason to meet Nanami. That’s why you were so bold with your little notes. But you still can’t help but wonder what he’s like in person. Is he as serious as Ren describes him to be? Is he as handsome in person as he is in that picture? Does he really love bread that much?

Now, given the circumstances, there’s no way you’d ever want to show your face to him.

~~~

Nanami feels like shit.

Gojo convinced him to go for drinks Friday and Saturday night. Then again for brunch on Sunday. Now he’s paying the price Monday morning.

Ironically, Gojo hates alcohol, but still likes going out. A typical night for them involves Nanami consuming liquor while Gojo indulges in all the mocktails he can handle.

To be fair, he didn’t resist his friend’s invitation. Drinking meant he could temporarily forget about the loneliness that is his life.

He groans into his hands as he realizes how dramatic he’s being. Why is he thinking like this all of a sudden? His life has always been this way. Why is he questioning it now?

As he continues to grumble in bed, he flashes back to his conversation with Gojo on Saturday night.

They went to a bar after dinner. After Nanami’s fourth beer, Gojo said, “Hey, I didn’t want to bring it up before, but I will now. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You seem grumpier than you usually do.”

“Stop over analyzing. I’m fine.”

“Nanamin, just let it all out. I can tell you have something on your mind.”

He blames the alcohol and Gojo’s persistence. He decided to ask Gojo, “Are you happy?”

“Yes, because you’re paying tonight.”

“No, you idiot. I’m asking if you’re happy with your life.”

“Of course, I’m livin' my best life, baby!”

“But are you happy being a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”

Gojo paused for a moment, then replied, “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you ever get lonely? Not being able to date?”

Nanami could tell that Gojo was taken aback by this question. “Huh? Who said I can’t date? Was it Utahime? She’s always been so possessive of me, that wily minx…”

“What? No. I meant that we’re not supposed to date as Jujutsu Sorcerers.”

“Who says that? The hell, Nanamin? What kind of fucked up rules do you live by? No wonder you’re so grumpy all the time, you need to get laid!”

Gojo ordered another round of beers for Nanami at this point and two Shirley Temples for himself. Then he asked, “Why do you think Jujutsu sorcerers can’t date?”

“Because we shouldn’t drag anyone else into our lifestyle. It isn’t fair.”

“Fair? We risk our lives every day to make this world a safer place. We deserve to be happy. Who knows how long we have in this life? It wouldn’t be fair to us if we deny ourselves of being happy or being in love. What’s the difference between us and firefighters who also risk their lives every day? What makes Jujutsu sorcerers any less deserving of living a full life?”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“Nanamin, we already do all the right things in this world. Why should we suffer because of it? Why are you letting yourself suffer because of some unwritten rule you have? If you like someone, go for it! Why deprive yourself? It’s depressing.”

At this point, Gojo downed his drink and started ranting on about his will-they-won’t-they relationship with Utahime. Nanami pretended to listen as he consumed three more beers that evening while he contemplated what Gojo said.

Their conversation wasn’t mentioned the following day at brunch, which Nanami was thankful for. He’s had two nights now to let Gojo’s words sink in. He lies in bed, reflecting.

Nanami hates admitting it, but maybe Gojo is right.

Today is the last week of Ren’s lessons, which means it’s the final round of bento boxes. Could this be his only chance to connect with her? He wants to meet her, to see what she’s like in person. Does she have that same smile? Is she as sweet as Ren describes her to be?

Even if Nanami continues to follow these “fucked up rules”, as Gojo bluntly stated, meeting new people isn’t prohibited. Nanami is simply curious about the woman behind the bento.

It’s curiosity, that’s all it is.

At least, that’s what Nanami is telling himself.

~~~

It’s the last week of lessons for Ren. You decide to make this week’s bento special: Chicken karaage, tuna mayo rice balls, and tamagoyaki. A feast for your younger brother.

And for Nanami too, but you’ve been trying to keep him off your mind all weekend.

You eat breakfast with Ren that morning after preparing both lunches. “Have you heard anything about getting into Jujutsu High?” you ask him as you both eat cereal.

“Nope, not yet. I’m going on missions today and Wednesday. Friday, Nanami is going to do some sort of final review. I guess from there, the committee decides on my fate.”

“Well, good luck. And be careful on those missions. Do you have a weapon?”

“Not yet, but Nanami and Gojo are bringing a couple of items for me to try today.”

“Gojo is the guy who recruited you?”

“Yep. He’s the one who wears a blindfold all the time. He’s cool,” Ren comments, taking a bite. He gazes at you and smiles. “It’s nice talking to you about this. I felt like I had to hide it from you before.”

You smile back. “I’m glad you told me. Even though most of it goes over my head.”

“You’re catching on pretty quick though! I’m just happy I can talk about this openly with you. It’s nice. It makes me feel normal.”

“Well, I’ll always be here if you ever need to talk. When you start living on campus at Jujutsu High, I’m always a phone call away.”

Saying it out loud makes it real. Ren will be moving soon, assuming he gets into the school. While you’re proud of him, you can’t help but be sad about him leaving. This summer has been a great one because of him. You’re not ready for it to be over.

You’re not ready to be alone again.

~~~

Nanami arrives to the office earlier than usual to wait for Gojo to bring the weapons. They are going on a small mission where Ren will practice exorcising a low-grade curse. Gojo agreed to bring some cursed tools for Ren and to also tag along on the mission.

“Nanamin! Good morning!” Gojo exclaims as he lays down a box of weapons on one of the desks.

Nanami simply grunts and takes a sip of his coffee.

Gojo smirks and asks, “Heh, still hungover?”

“Let’s just wait for Ren in silence. I’m not in the mood for your antics today.”

Gojo looks at him curiously. “Is it because of the booze or because of our conversation Saturday night?”

Nanami glares at him, remaining silent.

With his hands up in surrender, Gojo retreats. “Okay, okay, I’ll take the hint. Just answer me one question: Who’s the girl you’re pining for?”

Nanami ignores him again.

“Is it Ren’s sister?”

At this, he chokes on his coffee, spilling it over his tie.

Gojo grabs a handful of napkins on Nanami’s desk and starts helping him wipe up the mess. “Shit, sorry Nanamin. I was just teasing you. I didn’t think I’d actually be right…” He adds that last part under his breath.

After cleaning up, Nanami asks, “How…?”

Gojo smirks. “Lucky guess. I found out from Ren that those bento boxes are made by his sister. And everyone knows the way to your heart is through food.” He leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “So, are you dating her? What’s she like?”

Nanami hesitates, turning his head away, embarrassed.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t met her yet? Dude, how can you be pining over a woman you haven’t even metyet?!”

“I’m not pining over her. It’s not like that. I want to thank her properly. For the food.”

“And those little notes?”

“How do you know about that?” Nanami asks, scandalized.

Gojo points to his own face. “Six Eyes, man. Never fails. Also, Ren showed me his note when you were visiting Jujutsu High, so I figured you were getting some love too.” There’s that shit-eating grin again. 

“You really are awful, you know that?” Nanami slouches against his desk and sighs.

“Is this why you were freaking out on Saturday? Nanamin, it’s not wrong to meet new people and make new friends. Surely, there’s nothing in your dumb rules against that.” Once again, Gojo is right. Nanami hates it when he’s right.

He glances at his watch, then at the box of weapons. “Ren will be arriving soon, so let’s put these on display.”

“Got it. Just one more thing.” Gojo gets his phone and points the camera towards Nanami. He hears the distinct ping of the recording button.

“Tell me I’m right. I know you’re thinking it. I just need to hear you say it so I can record it and never forget.”

“You really are the worst, you know that?”

~~~

Gojo and Nanami go through the variety of weapons as Ren inspects each one carefully. They range from daggers, double edged swords, katanas, spears, and the oddest of them all, a skateboard. Specifically, a long board.

Ren spends a while studying the long board. “Why did you include this one, Gojo?”

He smiles. “Remember the first time I met you? You were trying to take on a curse using your skateboard. Long boards are bigger and faster, making them more dangerous.”

“I can use this as a weapon?”

“Well, it’s been infused with cursed energy, so technically, yes. Also, to be frank, I spent a long time looking for this, so I will be disappointed if you don’t use it.”

Ren smiles wide, holding onto it with both hands. “This is awesome.”

Lunchtime comes and Gojo leaves to grab a quick snack before heading out for their mission. Ren rummages through his backpack for the bentos.

Nanami is excited for this week’s meal to be revealed, then he remembers Friday. He never replied to her message from last week. He wonders what her note will say today.

“Whoa, this is heavy today! She spent all morning preparing a bunch of different stuff. It’s going to be a feast for our last week!” Ren exclaims as he hands over the box to Nanami.

“Whatever it is, I know it’ll be delicious. Your sister is a wonderful cook.” He clears his throat. Was that weird to say? Ren gives him a look but doesn’t respond.

At his desk, Nanami opens the container, excited to see the food and the note. As always, it’s glorious. Chicken karaage fried to perfection, large onigiri with a filling that is sure to be delicious, and tamagoyaki that resembles golden pillows. He inspects the cover of the bento box, turning Hello Kitty over twice, then a third time. He searches the sides of the bento. Then, he lifts the box up to look underneath.

Nothing.

Nanami can spot Ren from the corner of his eye, observing him with an uneasy expression.

Maybe it’s hidden underneath the food. He inhales his meal, stuffing pieces of chicken and egg into his mouth, with bites of rice in between.  He finishes in record time only to find that the entire box is completely empty. There is still no note.

His heart sinks. What does he expect? He didn’t respond to her. He focuses on the empty bento, disappointed, sighing loudly.

“Are you looking for something?” Ren’s voice startles him. 

“Huh?”

“Are you looking for something?” Ren repeats. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but is there a tinge of venom in his voice?

“I, uh…No. The food is delicious. Thank you.”

Ren scoffs. “Well, it’s not like I made it. My sister did. You should be thanking her.”

Nanami is not familiar with the current tone his student is using. Is he upset?

“Well, then, please tell your sister thank you.”

Ren gets up abruptly and turns his back towards him. “Tell her yourself.” He starts walking towards the door. Nanami hears him mumbling about getting a drink from the breakroom as he leaves. To his surprise, he hears him mutter “ungrateful bastard” in the hallway.

He and Ren have always gotten along well. This sudden outburst throws Nanami for a loop. Does his student know something that he himself is not aware of? He watches the door until Ren comes back. He’s not sure exactly what to say, but he starts apologizing. “Nakamura. I’m–”

“I’m sorry,” Ren interrupts. “For my outburst. I guess I’m just feeling nervous for today’s mission. There’s no reason to take it out on you. I’m sorry.” He gazes down at his shoes as he speaks.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” Nanami isn’t quite sure what he’s apologizing for, but he does feel sorry.

Gojo walks in and for once, Nanami is grateful for his intrusion. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Ren grabs the long board from the table, avoiding Nanami’s gaze. They all exit together, Ren in leading as the two adults trail from behind.

“What’s going on? I sense tension,” Gojo whispers to Nanami.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Ren suddenly turns around and yells, “I have no idea where I’m going! Someone else go up front!”

Gojo and Nanami chuckle as they catch up to him.

~~~

“Karaage isn’t as good when it’s not fresh,” Ren mentions.

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers, you little punk.” You are treating a cut on Ren’s cheek. He sucks in a breath when you apply the ointment.

He arrived a few minutes earlier, fresh out of exorcising a curse in his first mission. He is mostly unscathed, except for the gash on his face. You put a bandage, smoothing it over the wound. “There. Better.”

“Thanks.” He runs his fingers over his battle scar, proud. “I kicked that curse’s ass!” He summarizes the details of his mission as you listen attentively, impressed by how he used a long board to defeat the curse. His mentor’s name is mentioned a few times, as expected. You still can’t help being a little embarrassed about last week’s fiasco. It’s time to move on. Nanami clearly doesn’t care; he’s carrying on with his life as usual.  

“Going back to the karaage. I have an idea. Maybe Wednesday, you can fry it up right before lunch and then delivery them to the office.”

“What? That’s so extra, why would I do that?”

“I’m just saying! Karaage is way better when it’s fresh out of the fryer!”

You eye him suspiciously. What is he up to?

“Also, maybe you can meet Nanami too.”

There it is.

“Why are you bringing this up? We promised we would move on from this!”

“Listen! I gave it some thought, and I don’t think it’s so bad if you and Nanami date. It might actually be great. I give you my blessing.”

“Okay, first of all, we are not going to date. Second, I don’t need blessing in any of this! I told you; we are going to forget and move on.”

“C’mon! Maybe if you date him, he won’t be so stuck up all the time! You could mellow him out, y’know?”

“You are really being a punk right now, booger.”

Waving you off, he continues, “Anyways, you have a chance to meet him on Wednesday. Just fry up the chicken around lunch time and hand delivery the bentos! Then you can meet him.”

“I’ll go ahead and fry up your karaage and deliver them to you. But I will not step foot in that building. I’ve humiliated myself enough.”

“Fine, but I have a feeling you’ll end up meeting him anyways.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because you think he’s hot,” Ren teases, smirking.

“Seriously, I will burn all of your karaage if you keep talking like that!” Ren laughs as you give him a hard poke on his shoulder.

“Can you at least think about it? He’s been a big help throughout this whole process. It’s important to me that you meet him. You don’t even have to stay long! Just say hi! That’s it.” He gazes at you with those puppy dog eyes.

You tilt your head back against the chair and groan, staring at the ceiling. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Yay!”

You roll your eyes at him as gets up from the table to give you a quick hug. “Maybe he has something he wants to say to you,” he suggests, walking towards his bedroom.

“Wait, what do you mean?” you yell back to him. But he shuts his door before you can get an answer.

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Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @st-444-rgirl @hughugh20 @lucyrocks86 @bloompompom @vampyra-needs-food @extrasugafree @deepcloudspyhairdo @invisible-mori @justnamuaf @syynnaaah @unknownspecies @goldencattto @maqqiekwon @batafuraikisu @pxppetmxster @jesstuff @27th01

[ladylilithprime]

Day 31: Hall🎃ween/Costumes

(Set in the same continuity as and after Day 16.)

IT HAD ALMOST felt like tempting fate, putting in an offer when the old farmhouse a quarter of a mile from the Men of Letters Bunker came up for sale. Walking through it, taking stock of what was there and what would need fixing or updating, was just a bit like stepping into someplace both new and achingly familiar. From the way Dean had looked around, his eyes tracing over parts of the building like he recognized it or expected to see something he wasn't consciously looking for, he felt it too. It had felt like a dream when their offer was accepted, and the whole time leading up to the official closing and paperwork signing part of Sam kept waiting for the dream to become a nightmare.

It never did.

The first time Castiel visited them after the sale closed and they were officially home owners, he had looked around the house with a curious head tilt and a spark of recognition. He had let Sam ramble a bit about the areas that needed repair, still, and patiently listened Dean gush about the various upgrades he wanted to make to the bathrooms and replacing the windowbox fans and standing heaters with central heating and cooling, and then simply asked, "How can I help?"

Turned out there was quite a bit that an angel could help with when it came to home renovations. Installing the central heating and cooling system without needing to rip up walls or floors, for one thing, and replacing the old boiler in the basement with a newer model that had a larger water tank and a stronger pump. Repairs to the outside of the house needed to be done the long way to avoid drawing too much attention, but Castiel gamely volunteered his time and efforts sealing up cracks in the windowframes around the box fans and the doors, and patching the hole in the roof with new wood and shingles before snapping away the water damage and black mold that had started growing in the attic.

With a firm home base and official physical address that wasn't a secret bunker no one was supposed to know existed, Jody was able to start shipping them boxes and boxes of stuff that Bobby had kept in storage or that had been rescued from the smouldering wreck that had been left of his house and salvage yard. Things like weapons had to be hauled personally, which Jody and the girls had used as an excuse to come down and check out Sam and Dean's new digs, but other things like books and old keepsakes could be shipped. Much of the time that Dean and Castiel spent repairing the house, Sam spent unboxing things and figuring out which of their new and old belongings they should keep in the Bunker and which could be moved to the house when it was livable. He had actually dithered a bit over whether or not to move the herb garden before Castiel had asked him why he couldn't just have two, one for the Bunker and one for the house.

Frankly, considering the acreage that had come with the house, having a decent sized garden felt almost sensible to Sam. Dean rolled his eyes, but surprisingly agreed so long as Sam was willing to put up with him getting a couple of chickens and a rooster for eggs. Building a chicken coop and fox-proofing it was another adventure, and had eventually resulted in Castiel and Sam putting their heads together and creating a new set of warding stones they could lay down around the coop's boundaries. Further tweaking and they did the same for the house itself, and then for good measure they had added warding to the walls inside the perimeter under fresh paint and stapled thin plastic tubing filled with salt beneath the mouldings on the doors and windows.

The thing about the house was that there were technically four bedrooms and three full bathrooms, but two of those bathrooms were attached to bedrooms, one upstairs and one downstairs. The one upstairs had a walk-in closet attached to it, which made the walk-in closet inside the bedroom itself almost redundant. That closet got turned into a small meditation and spellcasting room for Sam after Dean claimed the "suite" on the main floor closest to the kitchen, especially when Castiel had noted the wooden shelving as "more suited to books and spell ingredients which are part of your personal collection rather than communal as the ones in the Bunker are meant to be". And it wasn't as if it would be needed to be a closet, since the closet in the bathroom was more than big enough to hold what clothes he and Sam had between them.

It hadn't been until Sam was online ordering two new California King mattresses, box springs, frames and linens that he had realized how much of a forgone conclusion it seemed to be that Castiel was moving in with Sam.

"Of course he's moving in with you," Dean scoffed. "I ain't sharing a bed with him! So unless he's decided he wants to lay claim to one of the other two rooms upstairs, just don't make me see or hear anything I shouldn't or wake me up with a thumping headboard!"

"The headboard wouldn't wake him up anyway," Castiel had assured Sam when he had reported what Dean had said. "No more than his headboard hitting the wall would disturb us. I added sound dampening wards around all the bedrooms when we lay down the protective wards before painting."

Well, that didn't precisely answer the question that Sam didn't quite know how to ask, but if Dean was making jokes about the headboards and Castiel was adding soundproofing to the bedrooms, it probably didn't matter too much right just then. The other two bedrooms got set up as guest rooms for Jody, Claire and Alex, or whichever of their friends and fellow hunters stopped by needing space to crash for the night, and that was that.

The house was ready to move into fully just in time for the weather to turn and the new heating system to get its first workout as Autumn kicked into high gear. Their neighbors in Lebanon still didn't quite know what to make of "the Campbell brothers" and "that Novak fella" who very clearly all lived together in the fixed up former Bethswaite farmhouse, but they were mostly friendly and welcoming. It seemed like Sam and Dean were finally getting the chance to actually put down proper roots for the first time since Sam was six months old.

Of course, putting down roots and having a permanent address meant other things as well.

"TRICK OR TREAT!"

"You'd think this place would be too far out to get kids tromping around looking for free candy," Dean grumbled as Castiel once again answered the doorbell, the porch light bouncing off the silver tinsel halo he wore on a wire headband to go with the black feathered costume wings strapped around his shoulders.

"You're just mad because you thought those giant bags of candy we bought were gonna be all for you," Sam rolled his eyes, reaching up to adjust the large curving black horns that were barely held on by the elastic string. "Dunno why since tomorrow it's all going to be half price."

"And picked over for the good stuff!" Dean complained. "Why'd you even get dressed up, anyway? Thought you hated Halloween."

"Thought you didn't want to hear about it," Sam deadpanned, eyebrows jogging up pointedly. He wasn't about to admit that Castiel and Claire both had made puppy eyes at him until he caved and dressed to match Castiel's angel costume, so letting his brother infer something else entirely was the order of the day. From the face Dean made, he bought it.

"Well, now that that image is in my brain, I need another drink," he groaned, leveraging himself up off the couch and heading for the kitchen. "And I'm going to bed. Don't forget the rules, bitch!"

"If you haven't heard anything yet, you ain't gonna, jerk!" Sam called back, smirking as Dean flipped him off.

The couch dipping beside him wiped the smirk from his face to be replaced by a blush, and he cautiously glanced sideways at Castiel. The angel's expression was placidly amused, eyes on the door through which Dean had just retreated.

"He still doesn't know about the two bags of candy you have kept in reserve to surprise him with tomorrow?' Castiel murmured, low enough that Dean was unlikely to overhear him.

"He never goes in my workroom, even if he's still coming into our room whenever he pleases," Sam murmured back, eliciting a small hum from Castiel.

"At least he has finally learned to knock when we have the door closed," he offered, to which Sam could only nod. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

Whatever Castiel was going to ask was interrupted by the rapid thump of tiny feet followed by the doorbell ringing again. The angel sighed and moved to get up when Sam put a hand on his knee to stop him.

"My turn, angel," he said and, steeling his nerves, brushed a kiss to Castiel's cheek as he stood up and headed for the door. He hoped that the flow of kids to their door would stop soon so that he and Castiel could continue their conversation up in their room.

He had a feeling that it had been a long time coming.

-Trick or Treat?-

[tornrose24]

(If TGAMM had Amphibia’s plot): Seeing posts about this, I’m quite intrigued. I do have two questions, though:

1. When Molly, Libby and Andrea first become ghosts, do any of them immediately assume they’re dead, and if so, for how long?

2. If Jinx and the Chairman are still the Big Bads here, how do their roles play out in this AU?

So to answer the first question, I need to clarify once again–because of how this AU’s Calamity Box works, anyone who gets sent to the ghost world is turned into a ghost, but they are still alive. However, in order to be part of a Calmity Trio and obtain the powers, you DO need three people.

Anyway, the girls all assume that they are dead at first, but that length of time varies with each girl-

-Andrea assumed she was dead the longest. She got to a point where she just accepted that was what happened and tried to make the best of her new ‘afterlife.’ Though she does secretly miss her parents even if she doesn’t show it that much. She doesn’t realize that she’s actually still alive until she reunites with one of the other girls (haven’t figured out if it’s just Molly or both Molly and Libby, because Molly and Libby reunite, only to get separated once more before we get to the capital/‘season 2’ stuff.)

-Libby was the second longest since she was on her own for a long time, and she was upset about leaving her mom alone. When she explained things to The Traveler/Adia upon meeting her, Adia–who had been doing her research about the box–was quick to assure Libby that she’s still alive. However, if the box sent her and two others, then that might complicate things…

-Molly was the quickest to discover her actual fate because a part of her was optimistic that she couldn’t have died that easily. What proved it? Well, during the first few days she met Scratch, she tried to get him out of a tricky situation and momentarily tapped into her powers as the Heart part of the trio–which also was able to briefly turn her back into a human for a super brief time. (This is a nod to that ‘it wasn’t an error regarding the eyes’ in the first Amphibia episode). This cues her in on the fact that she and the others are actually still alive.

(I also want to add something in case this raises curiosity since I mentioned Adia and Scratch has experience with the box. She found it during her travels and despite several warnings, she took it to Brighton to show Scratch and then things went horribly wrong. Since there wasn’t a third person, they didn’t get the powers. Adia doesn’t assume that she’s dead, based on her research, and her determination to ‘right the wrongs’ is what’s motivating her to find the box. Meanwhile Scratch assumed the worst and was resigned to his fate until he found out that Molly was still alive, which had to mean that he was still alive as well, though it would take awhile before he knows for sure that he DOES want his life back. I imagine Adia would have been aligned with Wit and Scratch would have been aligned with Heart if he wasn’t such a ball of anxiety and depression at the time.)

2. Oh this took a while to figure out, but I do see Jinx and The Chairman as the Andrias and Core equivalents.

See, the previous Calamity Trio were the ones who defeated The Chairman and imprisoned him in such a way that you need the powers of the Trio to free him–in fact, you might need all three. As a final precaution, the box was sent somewhere to the Living World and the barriers between worlds was sealed to keep any ghosts from trying to find it. Over time, the box became a legend and while the ghosts were happy to be free from The Chairman, they were a bit bummed out that they could never revisit the Living World.

Jinx–a loyal follower of The Chairman as per usual–was none too happy for a long time. However, when she found out through Andrea about the Calamity Box and Molly and Libby, she realized it was likely the box returned to the Ghost World. The council were none too pleased about this and wanted the box destroyed (and sent others after it). Jinx secretly played Andrea like a fiddle–tell her to let her friends find the box and bring it to the captial so that all three of them could go home. And because everyone else had their reasons to find the box, they didn’t realize something was wrong until it was too late, when Jinx had the box in her posession.

Though she made the dumbass mistake of harming a lot of people Molly cared about–especially Scratch. And this activated Molly’s powers long enough to face off against Jinx who quickly realized just how much of a threat Molly–and the other girls–could be.

While Jinx was able to keep the box, she wasn’t too keen on letting the girls or Adia and Scratch leave and tried to prevent them from escaping. While she was able to capture Andrea, Scratch and Molly were able to escape back to the Living World–Libby and Adia would have gone with them, had they not been stopped/pulled away in the last few moments. And as a final attempt at a ‘screw you’ Jinx tries to attack Scratch again in some fashion, and this is what ends up causing him to have the problem of having his soul too easily detachable from his human body upon returning to the living world.

Jinx does succeed in freeing the Chairman, but he has to possess Andrea since he is currently too weak to regain his form and full power. Though his return is also what starts to weaken the barriers between the Living and Ghost Worlds.

[cuddlepilefics]

Carsick Seonghwa (short)

Since I don't always have the time or energy to write a full fic, I'm experimenting with some shorter stuff...

Please let me know what you think<3

Seonghwa's POV.:

Today's schedule had been incredibly long and I knew that I wasn't the only one feeling tired after such a day. Why did the others not get quieter as their energy ran out? I've been nursing a headache for most of the day and thought once the kids have tired themselves out, they'd surely stop fooling around but nope- I was wrong.

We were currently on our way back to the dorm and I had the misfortune of ending up in the same van as San and Wooyoung. They had connected Wooyoung's phone to the speakers and had an intense karaoke session, screaming their heads off. If they continued like this, the drive would be a long drive indeed. Yunho sat next to me and at some point met my eyes, shaking his head the tiniest bit. 

Why did Hongjoong have to ride with Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho? Sure, one of us in each car but why did he get the calm kids? "Hyung, I'm pretty sure my ears are bleeding", Yunho whispered with a wince. I only nodded at that, feeling the same way. Rummaging through my bag, I produced a box of earplugs and quickly put some in my ears before offering a sealed pack to Yunho. There wasn't much use in telling our dongsaengs to be quiet, they'd have to blow off steam eventually otherwise they wouldn't be able to sleep and too tired to get through tomorrow's schedule. 

Yunho gave me a grateful smile as he put the earplugs in and leant against the window, closing his eyes. I should probably do the same. Ugh, my head was killing me. I tried to follow Yunho's example but found the position extremely uncomfortable, plus, the movement of the car was slowly making my stomach feel funny. No, I don't really get carsick but driving while not feeling well does get to me occasionally. Breaking into a sweat, I took off my hoodie and bunched it up to use as a pillow. It felt nice to rest my head and close my eyes for a bit. 

Unlike Yunho, I wasn't able to fall asleep though. Every turn of the road caused my stomach turn turn along with it and closing my eyes wasn't really helpful either. Sighing, I sat up straight again and massaged my forehead. San had turned to me and I saw his lips moving. I clumsily picked one of the earplugs from my ear and muttered: "Wha'?" - "I asked if you're okay. You look really pale, hyung", San repeated, causing Wooyoung to turn to me too. "Uhm, I have a bit of a headache but I'm okay", I assured them but was I? I didn't know. 

"Could you- could you ask the driver to pull over?", I breathed, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. While Wooyoung talked to the driver, San frowned: "What's going on, hyung?" I could only shake my head. My mouth was watering already and I was afraid to speak. Pressing a fist to my lips, I swallowed and drew a shaky breath. My head spun dizzily as we hit another turn and I tightly gripped the seat in front of me. "We'll stop as soon as we get the chance to pull over", Wooyoung informed and I could only hope I'd last till then, already feeling sicker by the second. He made eye contact with San before asking: "Do you need a bag?" Nodding urgently, I squeezed my eyes shut. "How long have you been sick, hyung?", Wooyoung asked and I heard the crinkle of a plastic bag being dumped out in a hurry. 

As soon as my dongsaeng handed it to me, my stomach lurched and I barely managed to open the bag in time. A steady hand appeared on my back. San had poked Yunho's leg till the boy had woken up and removed his earplugs. I was glad when Yunho wrapped one arm around my shoulders, steadying my as I choked up the small dinner I had forced down earlier. My throat was on fire as I kept coughing. While Yunho patted my back, San uncapped a water bottle. "What's going on, hyung? Haven't you been fine earlier?", Yunho asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. I accepted the water and after sipping some, I rasped: "Had a headache and when I tried to sleep, the motion of the car made me queasy." - "You get carsick?!", San asked in utter shock as it never really happened before. Well, it had happened before. "Only when I have to drive while not feeling my best", I whispered and couldn't help the blush spreading on my cheeks, "I used to throw up as a kid but it usually just makes me really nauseous nowadays." 

Wooyoung handed me a tissue and I dabbed the sweat off my forehead before wiping my lips. We were finally pulling off the highway and into a gas station. After opening the windows to air out the car, we got out and I shakily tossed the bag into the closest bin. It felt nice to have steady ground under my feet and the cold night air helped ease my stomach too. "You want some gum?", San offered as I sat on the pavement. The minty flavor rid me of the vile taste and I muttered a soft: "Thanks." Drawing a deep breath, I was surprised when someone plopped down next to me. "We decided it'd be best to take a ten to twenty minute break, give you some time to get your bearings before we continue home", Yunho informed, "You wanna rest your head on my shoulder and close your eyes for a bit? You look tired." I thanked him quietly as I leant into his side, whispering: "Where are the others?" - "Getting a late night snack from the gas station", he told me with a soft laugh. "Ugh, food", I groaned, covering my facer. "Yeah, no idea how they can eat right now either but hey, it's quiet now", Yunho laughed and despite feeling wrecked, I couldn't help but laugh along.

[wooahaes]

run & hide

pairing: non-idol!bang chan x gn!reader [mentions of non-idol!changbin x gn!reader]

genre: horror. ready or not au.

word count: 1.3k~

warnings: multiple mentions of marriage. adopted!chris into changbin's family. mentions of chris having a wife & kids in the background. blood mentions, mentions of death & curses. ending ambiguous as to whether chris dies or not. reader marries changbin (and probably regrets it in this fic--if u are familiar w the movie, u will understand). gun mentions. very vague mentions of chris drugging cups (not involving reader).

daisy's notes: hey i rly like this movie :)

Chris had seen this story play out before as a kid. And dear lord, he’d wished you got any card other than hide and seek, because that meant he knew exactly how this story ended.

His own wife had lucked out on getting checkers the night after their wedding. Now that meant he had two miserable kids that his wife had raised him the way that his parents always wanted to raise him. He was too soft sometimes, not business minded enough to take over the family company… not that he ever wanted to run it to begin with. He’d been adopted into this family, he didn’t believe in whatever bullshit they were buying wholeheartedly into. His adoptive parents had played old maid the night of their wedding, and it was this joke that he never got. And now that his adoptive brother, Changbin, had married you in an extravagant ceremony… You’d been the unlucky one that night when they brought you downstairs and given you the family box. All you had to do was accept the card it gave you, and your fate would be sealed. And, of fucking course, it was hide and seek that popped up. 

Chris gave you one act of mercy earlier in letting you go when he caught you, the ugly feeling of looking like a predator to its prey leaving bitterness everywhere within him. He’d get hell if he didn’t mention seeing you, so he gave you a head start. A fighting chance to run away and hide. His uncle gave him shit for it anyway, but he could live with that—the same way he could live with the stony glare from his wife. He’d started to fall out of love with her years ago, and the flame extinguished this morning. 

“Do you think they’ll get hide and seek?” She had said, fixing her pearl earrings as casual as could be. For anyone else, it sounded like she was discussing the weather. “I’ve always wanted the chance to prove myself to your family…”

Disgusting. He fucked up by telling her about that when his adoptive sister got married. He’d already removed his wedding ring when he saw her later that night, congratulating one of their sons for trying to kill you with a pistol that threw him to the ground when he shot—his little body too weak to take the recoil, especially as someone who barely understood how a gun worked. 

That was what led Chris to find you. He needed to get you out. Even if he dropped dead with the rest of his family once it was all over, you would be safe. He was sure of it. He’d loosened his tie by now, jacket lost somewhere along the way as he kept his steps as quiet as he could through one of the passageways. Changbin had shoved you into one earlier, no doubt you had returned to try and get your bearings. 

Trying to get an advantage over him, you had swung down the back of the pistol you carried, barely giving Chris enough time to catch you and shove you away. “It’s okay! It’s okay,” he had said immediately, “I”m not—I’m not working with them anymore. We’re gonna get you out, okay?”

“Yeah, fucking right!” 

Unfortunately for you, Chris also easily overpowered you. Gym days with Changbin gave him the strength to, and he’d learned a few things living the life he did with this family. He’d drawn back, holding his hands up to show you he meant no harm. There was blood staining the white of your wedding getup. Yours? Or someone else’s? He hoped it was the latter, but he was sure he saw bandages peeking out from underneath your sleeve. Slowly, he lowered himself down to the ground, setting down the gun before taking another step back.

“I mean it,” he said. “I’m not gonna catch you.”

He saw the way you stared him down, fearful of whether this was a trick or not. 

“There’s a way out through the kitchen,” he said, reaching into his pockets to pull out his car keys. “You can take my car. If the gates are shut, you can hide in it—the windows are tinted so no one can see inside, and no one else has keys to it.” 

You said nothing, pressing yourself further against the wall, breathing quietly. After a moment, he watched as you reached out, snatching the keys from his hand and holding them close to you. “And what about you?”

“I don’t care what happens to me to this point,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever curse is on us isn’t going to affect you. It’s either-or. Either we sacrifice you, or we blow up. You’re… an external factor in this situation.”

You clenched your jaw, staring him down before glancing down the passageway—head jerking all too quickly, as though you heard something. He never did, and Chris had pretty damn good ears. If he thought you were in danger, he would help. Then you turned back to him. “Chris?” Your voice was quieter than before, and you picked the pistol back up after taking those few steps forward. “I want a divorce.” 

“So do I,” he chuckled, extending a hand to you. “Fuck this family.”

“They’re your family—”

“Only in name,” he said. “I’m adopted.”

He heard a soft chuckle emerge from you. He knew you’d grown up in foster care, too: that was why you were so ready to marry into this family. Maybe one day adopt kids with Changbin, save people from the life you lead for far too long. You slipped your hand into his after a moment, and he guided you forward, mentally making a map of where the two of you were. One of these passages led into the kitchens, and he was sure you’d be able to sneak out as soon as he disengaged the locks in the security room. He’d need a back-up plan, too, to deal with his family. 

One thing led to another and to another… And Chris had to make the decision. He spiked the ritual cup with a non-lethal dose of hydrochloric acid (enough to incapacitate all of them for now) as he broke you free from your bonds. He’d shoved you ahead of him on the way out, hoping to protect you until he got you outside… And it was then that he felt something slice through his neck, sending him crumpling to the ground. He watched as you disappeared down the hallway, not looking back. Good. Don’t look back. If you looked back, you would care for him. There was good in you that he needed to protect before the curse of this family destroyed it.

“Chan!”

Felix’s voice rang down the hall as he rushed to where he’d crawled away, trying to find a safer spot to die than in view of anyone else. The butler was a new hire, a nervous one when it came to game nights like this, and he fell to his knees next to him.

“It’s okay,” he said, over and over as he tried to stop the bleeding with hands that were slick with sticky red all too soon. “It’s okay, Chris,” he sounded as though he were making a promise. “We’re—We’re gonna get help. I promise—”

Felix only left his side when he was forced away. They had managed to catch you again, and Chris let his eyes drift shut as he cursed himself. Fuck. He’d seen the sun rising in the windows: surely that was supposed to mean you won and the fucked up demon that had given them their fortune would lose. He breathed shallowly, only opening his eyes when he heard a sickening splatter from the other room. Except… It wasn’t you. It was his adoptive family that were screaming. The matriarch, the parents, the sister… He shut his eyes when he heard his wife scream, too, trying to run away with the boys before they disappeared, too. At least death would embrace him soon.

He smiled to himself: you won. Take the family’s bullshit fortune that’d fall to you and run.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm

[dozing-composing]

I'd love to hear more romantic OrpheusxReader headcannons!

Do you have any in mind for how he might propose?

(And really lovely work btw! You're really providing us vbros fans with much needed crumbs 🤣)

OhMyGod Thank You! I Noticed There Wasn't Much VBros Content In General And Thought That Needed To Be Changed Lol. Everyone In The Fandom Has Been So Sweet. I'm So Lucky Y'all Accepted Me And My Mediocre Writing 😭

P.S. I've Looked At Your Account A Couple Of Times And I Love Your OC! The Way You Draw Dr.O Is *Chef's Kiss* 🙌❤ Your Art Style Is So Beautiful Too!

ɴᴇᴄʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄɪɴ' ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄɪɴ'…

✦ As I've said before, if you went to the dictionary and looked up the words "hopeless romantic," his picture shows up right next to it. ✦ He's devoted to you. He worships the very ground you walk on. You're his light, his muse, his everything. Anything you do is perfect. ✦ He gives little monologues. There's barely any words that can describe how much he loves you, but he's willing to make an attempt. ✦ He makes sure to remember every moment you share. He dabbles in the art of scrapbooking, writing down what happened and the date it all happened on. He places each keepsake on each page with tender care. If there is none, he does his best to draw it out. ✦ His love for you knows no bounds. The way he'd show this to you is when he makes you officially his. ✦ His proposal to you is what seals the bond he shares with you. He goes the whole nine yards. This has to be perfect. I could see this going one of two ways.. ▸ Either he'd cook your favorite meal and have rose petals scattered around the place. Red wine sits on the table that's set for two, a bouquet of roses sits as the centerpiece. He's dressed up real nice in his tux. After you two are finished dining, he'll make his way over to you and get on one knee. With your hand in his, he gets all poetic, tears forming in his already glistening eyes as he expresses his need for you to become one with him. Then comes the ring encased in a velvet box. OR ▸ He'd have you go on a little scavenger hunt with a bunch of pictures from his most prized memories of you, leading you outside to him with his hands behind his back. There's a trellis covered in vines and various flowers. Fairy lights are hung around. A tall white bedsheet hangs behind him, held together by two posts. He'll then give a speech, reflecting the times you both share. Each memory displays on the sheet with an unknown projector. Then, he'll kneel, and he'll bring out what he's been hiding behind his back. A ring. Your ring. ✦ There will be a lot of tears if you say yes. He's more than overjoyed. He'll slide the ring on, grasp you by the waist and dip you into a passionate kiss. You'll then slow dance with him, the first dance of many on this new journey of yours. ✦ I believe the ring would have an engraving on the inside of it. Probably some quote he thought of while thinking back about your love for each other.

[cheese-ducks]

TWRP ORIGINS

Chapter 6: Adapting to Connection

Main master list

Previous Chapter Next chapter

Warnings: (mild swearing)

"Greetings, nerds. I trust no one has tried to kill anyone in my absence." Sung shot a glare at Meouch as he entered the room. 

"You can fuck all the way off your damn high horse, ya piece of shit." Meouch shot back. 

"Enrichment for those who want it, then." Said Sung as he set a large bag on the floor. 

"It has come to my attention that I haven't been the most attentive heroic leader,"

"Ya fuckin' think?" Meouch murmured. 

"So I brought various Earth items that I just thought were cool." 

"There is nothing in that fucking bag that could change my mind about you, cone boy." 

Sung held one of the items pinched between his thumb and index finger and tossed it to where Meouch was sitting. "Just know I'm doing my best despite your attitude, Commander." 

The sealed red bag of meat landed on the table and nearly hit Meouch in the chest. 

"Now we're talking!" He wildly tore into the bag and ate the contents, much to Phobos and Sung's disgust. "Even though I still think you're a stuck up, self righteous idiot with fucking oxygen for brains." 

Sung turned to Phobos. "And for you my lord, I've brought something for you to study." 

Was that a backhanded gag or a genuine attempt at being thoughtful? Phobos couldn't tell, but nevertheless he accepted the gift. It was a small glass container filled with a dark green wax-like substance. As he picked up the gift he noticed the pleasant smell coming from the substance. It was strangely comforting. 

"You haven't even seen the best part." Sung added. He grabbed Meouch's lighter and lit the wick of the candle. "Not only does the pleasant smell get stronger once it's ignited, it also just looks nice." 

Phobos simply stared in awe. He wasn't used to fire, it couldn't even happen on his home planet. Some of the old ships he saw in research books used a fuel conversion process that utilized fire, but all of the ships he'd ever piloted were advanced beyond that. He was extremely concerned the first time he saw Meouch smoking. There's absolutely no reason anyone should be inhaling fire like that, but it made him look cooler somehow. He decided not to question it, especially after Meouch growled at him for staring. Phobos grabbed his notebook and wrote Thank you as he walked into the control room. Sung was sitting at his small workbench, writing his own notes with his helmet off, but he managed to see the note out of the corner of his eye. 

"No problem, friend." Sung replied sincerely. 

As Phobos went to his room to stare at the candle Sung debated giving Havve Hogan his enrichment item. Sung was still disappointed in him due to the sneaking out incident. He'd been trying to fix the robot's irrational craving for violence in a variety of ways, some working better than others. Drumming was the only consistent fix. Sung couldn't necessarily blame him though, it was literally in his code. He was created for nothing but to kill. He felt like the antithesis to Sung's cause, yet Havve stayed and Sung let him stay. Were they friends? Neither of them truly understood the concept but they did get along well. They liked each other's company, they knew a lot about each other's lives, was that all it took?  If Sung wanted them to be friends, he would probably need to stop trying to save Havve from his violent tendencies. Friends don't try to control each other like that, that's just mean. He took a deep sigh and got Havve's item. 

Sung set a mini fridge on the ground in front of his friend. "I want you to destroy this." 

Havve's eyes lit up their intense red. He grabbed the box and began ripping it apart, crushing the pieces in his metallic hands. Jack had mentioned that the small metal box in the corner of his room, that was supposed to be capable of storing food, had broken about a year prior and he kept forgetting to dispose of it. He figured there was no harm in taking it for this, even if Havve was now breaking it beyond repair. Sung could sense he was overjoyed at the carnage. Being a robot, Havve didn't feel emotions in the way Sung could read but he could emote in other ways. 

This felt good, doing things for other people. To be more specific doing nice things for other people that he actually knew and saw often. There was an impersonality to his usual good deeds. The people he saved rarely knew his name, let alone enough to insult him as in depth as Meouch did. Personal connection was never on his radar, until he met Havve, and since then it's been an incredibly interesting journey. Finding out how friendship worked was fascinating to him. Jack would definitely be a crucial resource in figuring out personal connection, after all humans are social creatures. All four of them had been alone most of their journeys, but they didn't feel alone on this journey of rock and roll.