#but it took so long for me to find a temple of a missing poster that I was just like.... nevermind!!

[dixidin]

[GORETOBER 22]

@zol1x guys.... I think we have a problem

If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Do not put my art in any ai or repost it as your own work. You are free to use this as a pfp as long as you credit. Any like or rebblog is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! -dixidin

[waffletheorist]

So, I wrote a sort of prequel/backstory thing for Hero of Simulation, just adding to his character, how he came to be the way he is, different stages of his life and some description. Might rewrite first meeting later as well because I just got so many more ideas for him that I want to add, and because I'm on the creative high right now, so I may as well write as much as possible and improve it.

TW, implied suicide.

Content below the cut.

"The Hero? He's barely a month old!" The woman cried.

"I know it might come as a shock, but that is his destiny. That mark right there on his left hand proves it." The old man replied calmly.

"I don't care what some goddess-forsaken triangle birthmark says, I will not be sending my infant son out on a quest!" The heartbroken mother screamed, cradling her son, who had not made even the slightest sound during this whole ordeal.

"I apologise, but we have no choice in the matter. It is what he was born to do." The wizened sage said gently, not seeming sorry at all.

"No. I refuse to accept this. You sages can go find a new hero. I refuse to let you turn this innocent boy into a weapon for the world. Get a capable adult, not my child."

"But miss-"

"No. I will not accept any argument on this. My son will live his life, far away from all this hero business, you hear me?"

"But only he can-"

"No."

The women stormed out of the castle, infant son in her arms, the mark of the Triforce glowing weakly on his hand.

Days passed, and all the soldiers and knights of the kingdom were sent out to find the fleeing family. There were posters in every town, and the two had a bounty on their heads. There was no place for the desperate duo to hide, even short rests at inns were risky when anyone could be looking to collect their bounty. But they always persisted on their path, the woman determined to keep her child from harm. The mother told the young boy stories every night, of how the Triforce could grant any wish. He had always loved his stories, the same as her.

"Maybe that could keep you safe. That accursed triangle on your hand that binds you to your fate, saving you from it. A bit poetic, don't you think?"

The child just stared, the woman letting out a tinkling laugh.

But, the women had an idea now, and she wasn't going to give up on it. While the Triforce of Courage rested in her son, the other two pieces remained in the Sacred Realm, the door to which was in the Temple of Time. But no regular person could open the Sacred Realm, as only the one who the Master Sword deemed worthy would be able to raise it and open the gate. While the woman herself wasn't worthy, perhaps her son would be, despite his age and size. That was what those insane sages said, wasn't it?

So, the mother picked up her child, a look of guilt, grief and sadness briefly crossing her face for what she was planning to do. She donned the armour she had stolen off of the poor Hyrulean soldier who had been guarding the path to Death Mountain in order to disguise herself, and carefully placed her baby into her bag. She didn't have to worry about him crying, he had not made even a sound since the moment of his birth. Her small campsite in the Kakariko Village Well was no place to raise a child, and she knew that. So, when the sunlight finally stopped reflecting off the water, she climbed out into the night. It was a long walk to Castle Town across Hyrule Field, especially when you add factors such as her heavy armour, needing to check on her son, and her decreased physical ability due to the sleepless nights spent watching over the entrance to the well, making sure nobody would discover them. The gate to the town was closed at night, but she knew that with all of these combined, it would take her until morning to arrive anyway. So, she walked, straining and struggling the whole way, until morning arrived and she was at the gates. She took a brief rest to catch her breath, she might be caught if people saw her struggling when she was meant to be disguised as a soldier. Helm concealing her face, she finally entered Castle Town.

"Ey, soldier! You're meant to be stationed outside Death Mountain! And what's in that bag of yours?"

The woman almost jumped out of her skin, her heart skipping a beat for a moment when she heard this. She thought she was going to be stopped. Deepening her voice as much as she could, which wasn't much due to naturally being high pitched, she replied.

"Just delivering a message, sir, I've got someone covering my shift until I return."

"Alright then. But I better not catch you slacking off, you understand?"

"Understood, sir."

The woman almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it so as not to seem suspicious. It was early in the morning, and not many people were up and about this time of day, which made things easier for her. She advanced towards the Temple of Time, not once letting herself break character, and finally went inside, arriving at the Master Sword pedestal. She gently removed her infant from her bag, and placed his hands on the Master Sword. They were small. Too small for this large duty imposed upon him. He could barely even wrap his hands around the hilt, let alone raise the sword and kill with it. But, the child's touch was enough, and the blade allowed them both to lift it together. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I knew there was something off about you. You're that woman the Royal Family is-"

The man was cut off, as the Sacred Realm opened, sending a beam of pure golden light upwards to tell the whole world. In front of them was an expanse of gold, bathed in the light of an eternal sunset. A beautiful realm. If this was the last thing she ever saw, she could die happily. She climbed the marble stairs in front of her, with her son, and almost as if he sensed what she was about to do, he cried for the first time, the Triforce glowing prominently on his small hand, begging to be reunited with its two other powerful and wise counterparts. Holding her son in one arm and the Master Sword in the other, she ascended to the top, and the Triforce was completed once again.

"Triforce, I wish upon you. Please, transport my son somewhere safe, far away from here, where he can grow up like a normal child. Please, let him live."

The Triforce glowed brightly, and the Sacred Realm changed around her as her son wailed and screamed. He was raised into the air, and in a flash of light, he disappeared, her wish granted. The woman was alone with the Master Sword and her thoughts. With one last laugh, she raised the sword high and pointed it towards herself, so that they would never be able to find out what she wished for.

Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, an infant was found abandoned in a field, seemingly having just appeared out of thin air. Nobody knew where he had come from, and he was eventually adopted by two expecting parents who didn't mind having another child with them.

Hylia was watching all of this from above, and she was not pleased with the woman's wish. It irritated her that she could not go against the will of the Triforce, even if it was for such a noble reason as needing the child back to save the Kingdom. However, the woman had only wished that he be allowed to grow up, he could still become the hero eventually if Hylia bent the rules, and she knew that. For now though, she couldn't touch him and would have to hide her time. But how to prepare him for his eventual duty when this world has not a monster to speak of, and the art of fighting is rarely taught? For three days and three nights, Hylia watched over this strange world with its advanced technology, until she discovered videogames. She was intrigued by these small virtual worlds, and saw their potential in teaching the hero. Nintendo games in particular caught her eye, they were the most popular in this world, and for good reason too. So, Hylia travelled back to the past of that world to bring the story of Hyrule to Nintendo. The people of this land used strange number codes to keep track of the date, and according to Hylia's knowledge, it was 1984. With her influence, the Legend of Zelda series began development, named after her mortal reincarnation.

Link was now twelve years old, and his younger brother was eleven. His brother hadn't cared much for the Legend of Zelda, but after being introduced to it by his father, Link had always felt a strange connection to the world of Hyrule, beyond just sharing a name with the protagonist. Today was another boring day of classes for him. His hands absentmindedly drifted to his ears. They had always felt... wrong, somehow. There was nothing abnormal about them though. Every time he checked, there was nothing strange about them. But, that feeling of wrongness never went away. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, they would seem pointed, out of the corner of his eye, even though he knew that was impossible, and it was far more likely that he just had a few screws loose.

"Link, answer the question."

The teacher said impatiently. He hadn't been paying attention again. He quickly looked at the girl beside him to see what question they were on.

"The answer is 17."

"Correct. But pay better attention next time. You're smart, but that doesn't mean you can get away with being lazy."

'Yes it does.' Link thought, but he held his tongue, as always. He was a well-behaved student to a bit of a worrying degree, his mother actually payed him to get in trouble, although it backfired on her when he demanded money for not doing his chores. He just nodded along like he was listening. "Smart.", the teacher had said. It annoyed him. Every Friday, a student was selected and every other student had to write one good thing about them for mental health or something. For him, it was always just "smart", "intelligent", "good at math", "good at spelling", with the occasional "nice", "kind" or "pretty" from the students that just wrote the same thing for everyone. He had liked it at first, but it was getting repetitive, and at this point, it felt like a bit of an insult. What about everything else? He didn't like being known for his smarts, he had other defining qualities he wished people would talk about. Is his academic skill all he has? Despite not being blood related, his brother was the same, as a result of his competitiveness driving him to try and beat Link, although it never worked.

The bell rang, and Link got out of his seat and packed his bags in a hurry so he could leave quickly. He was often made a target by some of the more annoying students, since he never fought back out of fear of getting in trouble for defending himself, and because his long hair, petite size and more reserved personality gave them lots to pick on. Luckily, he made it out in time, and walked home. His days continued on in a similar manner to this one for many years, with only a few notable events, such as starting horse-riding lessons and briefly trying out different martial arts.

When he finally turned eighteen, he decided to get a tattoo of the Triforce on his left hand. He had been planning to do this for quite a while, with the only thing stopping him being the law and the common sense required not to break it and end up getting an infection or a low quality tattoo. While his hair wasn't as long as it had been when he was twelve years old and refused to cut his hair, it was still reasonably long now, a little below shoulder length at the back. He spent even more time indoors than he did before, researching and working harder than ever, while still leaving enough time for videogames and writing by sacrificing sleep.

He was alright with the way he was living, but something still felt off. There was something he was supposed to be doing, he just couldn't figure out what. He got a part-time job, the feeling didn't go away, he studied harder, the feeling didn't go away, he applied for university, the feeling didn't go away. No matter what, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important. It had always been present, but now it was worsening. Every time he looked at his left hand, at the tattoo of the Triforce, it felt like it was trying to remind him of some long forgotten duty. Days were lost trying to figure out what was wrong, and he decided to go back to playing the Legend of Zelda games, his childhood favourites, and somehow, they seemed to dull the pain and stress even when nothing else did. He collected all the Golden Skulltulas, fused hundreds of Kinstones, found every Korok, and then did it again in speedrun form. Sometimes, he wrote theories as well, or streamed himself playing the games. He had a small following, but it was steadily growing larger as he became more of a known name in the community. Sharing a name with Link helped with that as well, it made him stand out.

After a year of this life, balancing his part-time jobs with his social media and online career, along with school, he lost more and more sleep and started getting burnt-out from all this work. But, on one late rainy night that he finally found out what he was missing.

[black-bentley]

WIP word search meme

I was tagged in this fun WIP meme by @dotsayers and it was an excellent excuse to go and rummage in my WIP folder to see what's gathering dust in there...

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

my words are: wonder, light, shadow, young, fear

Extracts are all from Biggles fics-in-progress (disclaimer: I make no promises about ever actually finishing any of these)

wonder

from a WW2-set Algy/Ginger longfic

"You've had an impressive career," said Raymond, flicking through Algy's file. "M. C., D. F. C., and more mentions in despatches than I'd care to count, both in this war and the last. Every officer who's served with you says that you're one of the best pilots—and one of the best men—they've ever run across. And that's before taking into account your inter-war service, to this country and others." He looked up expectantly.

Algy wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say, and so he settled on, "Thank you, sir. It's been my privilege." That seemed safe enough.

"I assure you, Flight Lieutenant, the privilege has been ours. It seems to me, however, that we have perhaps not acknowledged that privilege quite so much as we should. It seems to me," here Raymond paused, and looked Algy in the eye, "that an officer of your considerable talents shouldn't still be playing second fiddle at this point in his career. Not even to a man of Bigglesworth's calibre." Algy's heart sank a little. He'd suspected this day might come at some point—he and Biggles had even joked about it, debating whether they could reasonably share Ginger between them in the event that Algy was ever given a command of his own. "To cut a long story short," Raymond continued, interrupting Algy's thoughts, "there's a Spitfire squadron in East Sussex that will shortly be in need of a new C. O., and I wonder if you might take on the job. Promotion, obviously, to Squadron Leader—permanently this time—and all that that entails."

Raymond sat back in his chair, his sales pitch apparently at an end. When Algy didn't speak, he prompted him. "Well? Would you be interested? I do have a shortlist of candidates, but you ought to know that you're firmly at the top. All yours, should you want it."

light

Algy has the worst hangover of his life

A faint frown crossed Ginger's face. "Well. The party was fun. I had a nice time." He paused. "Didn't you?"

"Honestly, I've no idea," Algy groaned. "All I know is that I regret everything." 

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the time," replied Ginger, a little stiffly.

"Yes, well, we all make horrible decisions when we're drunk, don’t we? Nothing like the cold, or in this case far too bloody warm, light of day to—"

To Algy's astonishment, Ginger stood up abruptly and stalked away, slamming the door in his wake. Algy winced and rubbed at his temples, then took a mouthful of coffee, and all of a sudden wondered vaguely where Biggles had got to. As it happened, he didn't have to wonder for long; not ten minutes after he had stormed off, Ginger was back.

"Where did you—" Algy began.

"Skipper's missing," interjected Ginger, without preamble.

shadow

von Stalhein spends a long weekend at Chedcombe with Bertie

In the saddle, von Stalhein was transformed. Bertie knew himself to be a capable and sympathetic horseman but he, like most of his friends, had learned to ride rather informally in the garden and on the hunting field, under the watchful eye of first his nanny and then his parents' groom; as a result his own style was more practical than elegant. Von Stalhein, however, had been classically taught, and it showed. He sat upright but relaxed, his hands and elbows soft and yielding, and his heels falling naturally into perfect alignment. There was no trace of the uneven gait that he'd had as long as Bertie had known him, or of the slight hunch to his shoulders that had been in evidence since the events on Sakhalin. The hard years fell away and he looked, Bertie thought, like the proud Prussian soldier he must once have been.

It came as a relief. Biggles had assured him the man could ride, but it was one thing to sit a well-behaved horse on a Sunday stroll and quite another to pilot a fit, freshly-clipped hunter across unfamiliar country, especially on its first outing of the season. From what Bertie could see, though, von Stalhein and Sailor were going to make a nice partnership. The horse had, as promised, perked up as soon as his saddle appeared, and was clearly desperate to be off and running, jogging sideways along the road and spooking at shadows. Von Stalhein sat quietly throughout, occasionally rubbing the horse's shoulder or offering low words of encouragement.

Yes, thought Bertie, he'd do very nicely. He had intended simply to take the horses for a short ride, with perhaps a slow canter up one of the fields, but watching Sailor snort at imaginary monsters in the bushes gave him other ideas.

"Fancy giving them a bit of a leg-stretch?" he asked. Von Stalhein turned, and Bertie caught him smiling before his face rearranged itself into its usual neutral expression.

young

Algy and Bertie go hunting

Around lunchtime, Bertie confessed that he felt Nelson was beginning to struggle to keep pace a little, and stated his intention to hack back to the kennels. Algy was loath to see his friend ride off alone and offered to accompany him, although he felt Artemis still had plenty of running in her. She was a young horse, with plenty of seasons left to prove herself on the field; cutting one day short wasn't going to do her any harm in the long run, and perhaps it was better to take her home while she was still keen rather than tiring her out. They said their farewells to the master and whipper-in, and turned the horses' heads for home.

"I was sure it was this way," said Algy a short while later, standing up in his stirrups to try and see over the hedge into the next field. "But I definitely don't remember passing that big tree stump."

Bertie, further down the boundary, gave a holler and pointed through a small gap in the hedge.

"There we are! I can see the stable yard clock, just the other side of that park."

"So it is," Algy agreed, joining Bertie and following his pointing finger with his eyes. "The question is, how do we get there from here? It's a good couple of miles back round through the woods, and I don't fancy jumping this monster." He looked doubtfully at the hedge.

"There's a lower section just along there, old bean. Can't be any more than four feet, or I'm a Frenchman. I'm sure old Nelson here has one last campaign in him." Bertie patted the horse's neck lovingly.

"All right, if you say so," Algy replied. "Lead on, Macduff."

fear

a sort of AU fic that I desperately want to get finished, in which von Stalhein gets a glimpse of his future

Without asking, he knew where he was; it was what he had always feared, and what he supposed had always awaited him: an unmarked grave in some unknown province, unvisited and unmourned. He made to back away further, tripped over something solid half-hidden in the undergrowth, and almost fell. He crouched to examine it, and saw that his assessment of the grave as unmarked had not been strictly correct. Thrust into the ground was a rust-spotted bayonet, instantly recognisable to his well-trained eye as a British pattern from the Great War. Von Stalhein looked from the bayonet to Lacey.

"You did this," he said. A statement, not a question, but Lacey nodded anyway. "With that?" von Stalhein gestured at the bayonet. He had no idea why he was asking, for the knowledge of his own demise would bring him no solace, but he felt compelled. Lacey shook his head and gave what looked like a snort of amusement. For a moment, it was as though von Stalhein could read his mind.

Tagging anyone who wants to get involved! Your words are: wait, link, basket, hard, caught

[insomniiyac]

Temptation

Jayce is reminded that all demons were once angels casted from Heaven.

Pairing: Jayce x Ekko

Warnings: nsfw (minors dni!), religion kink, blasphemy, corruption, dubcon

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Was slick obsessed with this AU and had to get it out. Enjoy!

Jayce Talis was a devout man who dedicated most of his life to the teachings of Father God and walking the righteous path. Many Piltovens looked up to him as the Poster Boy of their country and sought to follow his teachings as well. As Father Talis, he was able to extend his reach to teach everyone from all walks of life. Although he attracted many people who took his teachings to heart, his status also attracted some bad faith actors- one of which he had a sneaking suspicion was following him for about a week following an exorcism.

This suspicion came to a head tonight when the two wide doors to the church, which was locked, swung wide open. The air that passed him was unusually cold, goosebumps raising from his flesh. 

“ Demon ,” he half-mumbles to himself before setting the water pot to the side and adjusting himself. He turns to see a familiar small, cloaked figure walking the aisle. “It’s you.”

The figure stops short of the steps, reaching up to pull down the hood. Standing before him was a dark-skinned scowling demon with bright, glowing eyes with slit pupils. His hair was bleached and in locs, adorned with hair jewelry with an hourglass motif.

“You finally decided to show yourself.”

This little demon, the one that visited him every night and drained him little by little, may try to claim his life today.

A corner of the demon’s lip twitches upwards into a little smirk, his tail swishing behind him.

“Well good evening to you too, Father Talis.”

“Come to claim my life, I presume?”

That smirk dropped to a dark scowl, his red eyes piercing.

“I’m going to make you pay for what you did to Vi.”

Vi? Hm, so that explains it. That demon he exorcised must’ve been his friend.

“You can join her if you like.”

Jayce reaches for the holy water by the altar, but finds it missing much to his dismay.

There’s that smirk again as the demon holds up the bottle.

“ Looking for this old thing? ”

“Tch!”

Shit. He definitely planned for this. Normally he doesn’t advocate for violence, yet he found himself really missing his HexTech hammer. However, being a man of God, he begins doing what he always did whenever faced with adversity. He pulls his rosary from his pocket, holding his cross close to him.

“ Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name��� ”

The demon rolls his eyes.

“Oh Brother, not this shit again,” it groans before dropping his garbs and revealing a tight, black, shiny sleeveless halter neck top with a matching skimpy thong. He wore long, sleek, black fingerless gloves with thigh-high tights that were toeless as well. His fingernails and toenails were long, dark red, and shimmering. Curly, black goat horns hung by his temples, his slick wings stretching to its full span- a true testament to the fact that he was not from this realm.

Thump!

Jayce’s heart begins to pound. No… he wasn’t going to lose faith! He points the cross towards the demon who was now slowly approaching him. His mantra speeds up as he backs up, defensively.

“ Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven. ”

“I am going to chew you up… and shit you out, you disgusting pig,” he hisses, seemingly becoming more agitated by the second. “That’s after I drain you and that worthless body dry and watch you wither away before I drag your soul to hell to burn.”

“ G-Give us our d-d-daily bread… and f-f-forgive us our trespasses- ”

The priest finds himself stammering over his words, not because of fear, but because of a second voice that found its way into his subconscious:

< Come to me, Father Talis…>

A voice that was so sickly sweet that it could only be from one place… Hell.

“Get out of my head, demon,” he growls lowly.

“I have a name, Father,” he saunters closer before leaning in to whisper. “ It’s Ekko…”

“I don’t give a damn what your name is, demon!” he retorts, shoving the cross in its face.

It winces. There’s a flicker of malice in its eyes before it relaxes, reaching a hand up to move it out its way. It edges closer, looking up at the priest with doe eyes.

This incubus had a very pretty face and an attractive body, and he was going to use it all.

< Touch me… >

“Wh-what do you want from me?” Jayce stutters, backing up, nearly tripping on the steps to the altar.

< I want you, Father… >

He inches closer, his fingernails grazing the priest’s clothed chest. The little voice was getting louder. He grips the cross until his knuckles go pale, continuing to recite the sacred text.

“ Give this day our daily bread and forgive our trespasses as we forgive those- unghh~!!”

A shuddering breath escapes the priest’s lips as Ekko reaches down and grabs his bulge, his tail wrapping seductively around his leg. He drags his warm, long tongue up Jayce’s jawline and laps around his ear before whispering: “ Keep going… I wanna hear you stumble over those words, Man of God.”

“Who t-t-trespasses against us; and l-lead us not i-into temptation…~”

A long whine escapes Ekko’s full, glossy lips as he loops his arms around Jayce’s neck and rocks against his knee.

“ Fuck yes, ” he throws his head back. “Finish it, Father.”

Jayce groans in response, feeling his hard-on pressing painfully against his slacks. His hips instinctively jut against the other, begging for his body not to betray him like this.

“ P-P-Please… stop this ,” Jayce pleads in a whisper, dropping to his knees before the demon.

“Stop what , exactly?”

Jayce shakes his head, solemnly.

“Don’t make me pervert the Word of God even more. Just kill me… please ,” he clasps his hands together and begs.

This was shameful, but he couldn’t do it. He’d walk on hot coal for all of eternity before he’d ever stoop so low to recite the sacred text so sacrilegiously. The heat of Ekko’s stare burrows into his very core; he hoped and prayed that alone would end his life then and there.

Ekko smirks.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

Thump!

“Ekko… please… stop it… ” he pleads through shaky breaths.

“Oh? You remembered my name? How nice.”

THUMP!

He doubles over, clenching his stomach. Ekko barely touched him, but somehow he felt him envelop his entire body and mind. The air around the chapel became so heavy and thick, clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He was so focused on gathering his bearings that feeling Ekko’s nails caress underneath his chin made him flinch.

“Look at me.”

Jayce allows his head to be tilted up, still kneeled before him. The view of once was repulsive to him charmed him beyond understanding. The way the blood moonlight splashed across his skin and features made his dark skin glisten in such a delicious way that had him drooling.

Ekko straightens his posture with a smirk, raising a foot.

“Lick.”

He drops his rosary to the ground and takes his foot gingerly into his large hands, making sure to polish it thoroughly with each deliberate lick. Ekko hums at this, his tongue swiping against his teeth. He raises his other foot in which Jayce wastes no time in sucking each toe, slowly but surely making his way from his ankles and up his legs to his thighs. Father Talis could feel the heat radiating from between Ekko’s legs. He needed a taste… just a taste and he’d be satiated-

“Wait.”

“ Huh? ”

“Don’t good Catholic men say Grace before indulging?” he purrs, his tail swishing behind him.

Jayce nods, leaning forward and bowing.

“ Bless us, O Lord and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our lord. Amen.”

“ Amen, indeed ,” Ekko bites his lip before pulling his thong down, his nice above-average sized dick flying up.

The older man’s chest heaves, the sickly sweet smell of Ekko’s dick wafting through the air. He knew incubi and succubi had stronger smelling aromas, yet experiencing this in person was on another level.

Jayce leans in and laps his tongue around his balls, gently taking each into his mouth. He relished the sweaty, salty taste of it hitting his taste buds so much that he couldn’t help but sneak a hand down his own slacks.

“ Aht aht, don’t touch yourself, Father. Naughty boy~ ”

He whines, reaching up to grip his hips instead, moving up to take his dick into his mouth. Ekko lowly chuckles, encouragely raking his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t forget to kiss the glans, Father Talis <3.”

Jayce pulls back and plants wet, open-mouthed kisses on the pinkish tip. He had such a pretty penis, just as pretty as he was.

A deep, demonic groan rumbles from deep within Ekko’s throat. He really loved this, didn’t he? Gripping his throat, he pushes the priest onto his back before rising to his feet and hovering over his face.

“I wanna feel your tongue elsewhere, Father,” he growls, dropping onto his face and leaning forward to rip open the other’s slacks.

The priest grunts at this, reaching up and spreading the incubus’ hole and spitting in it. Ekko ass bounces at this, pressing it further into his face. His little asshole was winking at him- how could he ever turn away at this opportunity to give it the best tongue-fucking it will ever experience in this realm?

He keeps his ass spread as he flicks his tongue over the creases of that glistening hole. He could feel Ekko’s firm grip on the base of his cock before an unusual, very warm wet sensation of his mouth engulfing the head. His tail swishes back and forth almost like a wag from a dog who’s excited. Jayce wondered…

He grips the base of his tail and pulls it, finally shoving his tongue as far as he could.

“ NGH!?? ” Ekko’s ass clamps down on his face, his thighs tightening as his tail shoots upwards, stiff. He slides Jayce’s cock out of his mouth with a pop, looking back at him with a smirk.

“ Father Talis!” he mockingly gasps. “Or should I say… Daddy Talis,” he bites his lip before sliding off.

“Don’t call me that,” Jayce warns.

“Or what?”

He jumps up and grabs Ekko by the arm, shoving him onto the altar.

“ Oh? You’re gonna fuck me on the altar, Fath-?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The incubus blinked wide-eyed with an uneasy smile, his tail tucked between his legs.

“What’s the matter, demon? Oh, now you’re scared,” he mocks.

“I-I’m not scared!” he protests, red faced. “I will actually fucking kill you, so you better enjoy it while you still can-!” his voice cracks upon Jayce gripping his throat.

Despite his manipulation, Jayce could tell this demon was a weak one- opting to use his charm and intellect to take control of his victims and lead them to their deaths. It was why he was constantly visited and drained a little each day. Unbeknownst to Ekko though, he still had more than enough energy to punish it. He unbuttons his robes and tosses it to the side, leaving on nothing but his white tank top and his ripped slacks.

Using his free hand, he pushes Ekko’s leg up and angles his dick, pressing it against his hole. Ekko croaks as he tries to speak, fidgeting beneath him. He lightens his grip on his neck.

“What is it?’

“If you slide it in, you’re gonna be bound to me forever just so you know.”

A bead of sweat trickles down his temple. He may have had some semblance of control back, but was this really something he wanted to do?

“You’re warning me, huh? Isn’t this what you wanted in the first place? To bind me to you so you can continue to drain me until I die?”

“Y-Yes but-”

“Then I guess my soul is yours to take.”

“Are… are you serious- mghnn~! ” he throws his head back as Jayce slides all the way to the hilt. Ekko looks down at the cock that’s impaled him, then looks back up at Jayce in disbelief. “You’re crazy…”

“You made me this way, so take responsibility,” he grits his teeth before thrusting roughly into the other, the altar creaking with each powerful thrust as he slammed into the shocked incubus over and over and over again.

Ekko yelps, digging his nails into the other’s muscular, sweaty arms, drawing blood. Jayce hisses, leaning forward and fully enveloping the other’s frame beneath his with nothing but the sounds of their debauchery reverberating around the cathedral.

His dick slams against a spot that felt really fucking good, so good that Ekko bites down hard onto his shoulder. Jayce bellows a primal growl, burrowing his head into the other’s neck.

“ Fuck me… don’t stop. I’m gonna cum… ohohooo FUCK!” Ekko’s legs trembled as he cums loads in between the two. But Jayce wasn’t ready to let up yet. He slows down a wee bit to lean back, getting a full view of his little incubus doused in pure pleasure.

Ekko licks his lips, swirling his iridescent cum around his tummy, making a show out of it. He scoops some into his mouth then offers some to Jayce in which he leans in and laps up gratefully.

“Does it taste good?

“It tastes delicious. ”

“Your mine now, so you can keep fucking me forever.”

The priest lets out a shuddering breath at this, shamelessly indulging himself in this cheeky little incubus and the desires he locked away from himself so long ago. Ekko was no longer in his head, this was all him. Jayce’s hips twitch uncontrollably, he was about to cum. He wanted to pull out in fear that the other was going to take this opportunity to drain him, but the way his innards clamped onto him made it impossible to leave.

It was then that Jayce realized he made a grave mistake.

His eyes glows a sickening crimson, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as Jayce finally released deep inside.

“Hahhh~!!!” Jayce found himself washed with a sensation of pure bliss mixed with dread as he just couldn’t stop cumming. His hole just kept milking and milking and the priest was sure he could feel his life force being drained. He swore to God Almighty that he would never do this again if he was ever given a second opportunity at life.

His surroundings meshed together in one big fog as he falls forward, everything fading to black..

—————

Jayce springs awake in a cold sweat, quickly feeling around his own body. He looks to his right and sees his rosary and holy water sitting neatly on his dresser. He looks to the left out the window. It was still dark out. Just what was the time?

He looks at the clock.

4:32am.

Was it all just a dream? There was only one way to find out.

He crawls out of bed and trudges to the bathroom, turning on the light and looking in the mirror. He checks his shoulder, his arms and his back. All clear.

He sighs in relief.

He turns to leave the bathroom and searches for his rosary. He was going to need to repent, and repent soon.

< It wasn’t a dream.>

Jayce pauses before his dresser, holding his head.

No… this was impossible.

The voice laughs.

< Oh but it is, Father Talis. We’re bound now, remember? >

Jayce grimaces. No way, he should’ve been dead then. At least he hoped-

< I could’ve. But I like you, so I’ll look past you exorcising my close friend for now. Besides… >

The distinct cool air passes by as he feels a cold, familiar figure brush behind him, wrapping his arms delicately around his neck and leaning in to whisper.

“What fun would that be?”

[egcdeath]

finders keepers

summary: did captain america just steal your cat?

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, strangers to lovers

author’s note: it’s been way too long since i wrote some pure, self indulgent fluff. this has been quite the refreshing experience for me but i think it’s back to our regularly scheduled program after this ;)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Miso had an air of arrogance that you admired. She took the world by its kitty balls, doing whatever she pleased whenever she pleased. Your cat left the apartment for sometimes days at a time, and frequently led male cats to your door. To you, your cat was more like a roommate than a pet, hogging up most of your bed, standing on the counter while you attempted to make food for yourself, and leaving most areas dirtier than she originally found it. 

Okay, maybe you were personifying your cat a little too much. But after moving out to D.C., you were unspeakably lonely. Most days, it felt like Miso was all you had, and that you were all Miso had (save for her army of cat boyfriends). 

This made things all the more concerning for you when you’d realized that you hadn’t seen your cat companion in five days. Five whole days without the comforting vibration of her purr, her ungodly hours of wakeup calls demanding to be played with, or pet. The cherry on top was that the cat food outside your door appeared to be completely untouched.

In your frenzied realization of your missing cat, your mind raced with a thousand different terrible situations your dear Miso could’ve found herself in. You frantically clicked through pictures of her on an online album and attempted to find a photo that would capture her white fur with large blobs of auburn, and her vibrant blue eyes to put on your ‘MISSING’ sign. The longer you clicked, the more that you began to worry that she had been caught and kidnapped by some terrible person with bad intentions. 

You finally threw together the poster, sending it to your phone so that you could print it off at the OfficeMax down the street. Luckily for you, you didn’t make it that far, as the moment you began to lock the closed door of your apartment, you saw the unmistakable figure of your cat. 

In the arms of your neighbor.

Now, you’d never met Steve. He was an Avenger, Captain America to be exact, and you were just… you. You’d convinced yourself that attempting to introduce yourself to him would ultimately end in failure, and an embarrassing one at that. Maybe he’d scoff and walk away, or call Tony Stark in front of you and tell him about the crazy woman he just encountered. 

But none of that mattered. Captain America was stealing your fucking cat. 

“Excuse me, sir?” You asked, stepping away from your door and approaching the Greek God of a man to the right of you. 

“Oh, hey! We must be n-“

“You have my cat,” you said bluntly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve seemed to do a double take

“My cat, y’know, the feline in your arms.”

“Well, maybe we just have similar looking cats. This is Arabella.”

You nearly scoffed at this, shaking your head. First, Captain America kidnapped your cat, and now he’s trying to convince you that it’s not your cat? Yeah, you’d know Miso from a mile away. And what kind of name is Arabella?

“Arabella is a great name for her,” Steve retorted, pulling the cat closer to his chest. Shit, did you say that out loud?

“Well I think it’s time for Miso to come back home,” the cat’s ears perked at this, and she glanced over at you. The sight of you made her wiggle and hop out of Steve’s tight embrace, landing on her feet and trotting over to you. The damn cat rubbed her face against your calf and purred as if she hadn’t been cheating on you for long enough to have gained a new name.

You squatted down and rubbed the back of your hand against her cheek, and shook your head at your pet, “you’re getting put on probation, young lady.” 

She didn’t seem to mind, pacing back and forth around you. You glanced up and saw Steve with a rather neutral expression on his face, as if he was masking whatever it was that he was feeling.

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Uh, maybe I’ll see you both around sometime,” disappointment coated his every word before he opened up his apartment door and promptly closed it behind him. 

You were surprised at how quickly he conceded, but you weren’t particularly mad about it either. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you never got your Miso back.

——

A whole day later, you’d been in your apartment typing up an email when a soft rapping at your door got your attention.

“Just a second!” you called, hopping up and hurrying to the door. When you opened it, Steve was standing in front of you, waiting with an oversized box in his hands.

“These are some of Ar- Miso?” he trailed off, waiting for you to confirm the name, and you gave him a tiny nod. “These are some of Miso’s toys. I just figured if she’s not staying at my place anymore…”

As if on cue, Miso strolled up to the door, and stretched her arms up on Steve’s leg, begging to be picked up. The man glanced at you for approval, and you gave a dismissive shrug before he set down the box, and held up the cat.

Steve frowned as he held her, and frankly, it pulled on your heart strings. You had to remind yourself that this man had been holding your cat captive for at least a week, and at most… who knows. 

She clearly had a connection with him, and that was what intrigued you most. Miso was a very picky cat, and it was only occasionally that she found someone that she genuinely liked, let alone wanted to be picked up by. If you continued to watch the display of affection in front of you, you might just cave.

“Uh, I left something in the oven for a little too long, so I should probably go get that. Thanks for stopping by.”

Steve nodded, understanding that it was time for him to exit.

——

You should’ve seen this coming the minute Miso was back in your home. You stepped out of the shower one morning to find your front door slightly ajar, and your animal nowhere to be found. 

You huffed, frustrated that just three days after you told yourself that your cat was completely indoor from that point on, she had escaped. She could literally be anywhere at this point.

In a whirlwind, you threw on a sweatshirt and pants, ready to go print out the missing posters that you had designed just a few days ago. As you slipped on sneakers, you realized something very crucial. She might just be at Steve’s place.

You groaned aloud, rubbing your temple as you thought of how difficult your cat was being. You were becoming a bit nervous to approach Steve, you hadn’t gotten off to the greatest start, and if your cat wasn’t there, things might just be awkward.

Regardless, you knew you needed to try, so you exited your own home, and knocked on the door of Steve’s.

A few moments later, he appeared with your cat in tow. 

“Hey!” he paused and trailed off, “I never got your name before.”

“That’s what you care about right now?” you glanced down at your animal. “It’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Hi, Y/N. Miso and I were just enjoying breakfast, if you’d like to join us?”

Was Steve shooting his shot? 

“I appreciate your offer, but I think I’m alright. I have to get back to work, and my cat is still in your custody,” your eyes flickered down to the animal who stood proudly by his side. 

“Maybe some other time,” he shrugged. “You work from home?”

You nodded, then squatted down to get eye level with your cat. 

“I’m jealous,” he chuckled. “Alright, I’ll stop bothering you now. Bye Miso, see you around, Y/N.”

You picked up your cat, who briefly dug her nails into the ground in resistance before submitting to her capture. As you brought her back home, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the right choice.

——

Ever since you’d discovered Miso, or Arabella’s secret life, it’s like you couldn’t stop noticing her connection to Steve. 

Some days, she’d be gone until the dead of night, when she’d meow and paw at your front door until you woke up. Other times she’d be laying in bed with you, and she smelled distinctly of your neighbor. Your cat had single handedly turned a stranger into a thoroughly integrated part of your life.

It was as if Miso was now your child, and Steve your ex-husband in a Cold War style custody battle, where Miso seemed to prefer her father. It was slightly disheartening. At the very least, you knew she was in good hands. 

You held a throw pillow to your chest while you watched a rerun of a sitcom on your television, procrastinating in your work for as long as you possibly could. The sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your trance, and as you peeked through the peephole of your door, you saw a slightly distorted Steve.

Opening up the door, you gave him just the faintest hint of a smile, “what’s up, neighbor? Need me to grab you some treats for Arabella, or something?”

“Kinda the opposite,” he gestured with his head down to the cat squirming in his hands. “I’m gonna be gone on a mission for the next week or so. I just wanted to let you know that if Miso gets out, she’s not with me.” 

Steve set her down on your carpet, and she happily collapsed at your feet, “keep her safe for me, alright?” 

——

You took a deep breath as you approached his door, hoping he hadn’t left just yet. You fiddled with the sticky note containing your number, and polaroid photo of your cat in your hand, considering turning around and scrapping the idea all together. 

It was silly to think that an Avenger would ever bother reaching out to you. You were probably overstepping anyway. Steve would think you were a freak and take full custody of your beloved Miso once and for all. 

Going against your better judgment, you set down the polaroid-note combo and quickly slid it under Steve’s door. Whatever happened happened.

The next morning, you were pleased to receive a notification from an unknown number. 

Send Miso pics?

You were more than happy to oblige. 

——

Over the course of Steve’s week-long mission, you’d sent several pictures and videos of your cat doing random things. Trying to get on the table, sleeping on top of your dryer, and even playing with one of the toys Steve provided.

Surprisingly, Steve wasn’t as dry of a texter as you thought he’d be. He was eating up all of the Miso content, and would occasionally even ask for you to send more photos. 

The final night of his mission, you were surprised when you received a FaceTime request, at first writing it off as a technical error (he was from a different time period, after all), but the follow up call demonstrated his intentions.

You cautiously picked up, the knot in your stomach growing as you did so, “hello?”

“Hi!” Steve greeted optimistically, the phone just a bit too close to his face. “Any Miso sightings?”

“Yeah, she’s actually sleeping on my foot right now,” you chuckled, flipping the camera so you could show her off in your dim, lamp-lit bedroom. 

“So cute,” he hummed, “how have you been?”

“Me?” you laughed quietly, “I’m not the one on a top secret mission in god-knows-where. But I’ve been fine. How are you?”

“Honestly? I’m pretty tired. Kinda can’t wait to get home and see you and Miso,” he said in a quieter voice. 

Your brain stalled out for a second. Steve was excited to see you? You hoped that you were reading this the right way, as you were more than willing to go with whatever it was that Steve was putting down.

“We’ll be expecting an immediate visit from you, then. I’ll let Miso know that she needs to start kneading a bread loaf for you as soon as possible. Any idea of what time you’re getting into D.C.?” 

“Probably late morning, but it really depends on when Natasha gets up.”

You had a moment where you realized that you were talking to a real life superhero, and he had just referenced his friend… who was also a superhero. You paused for a second. 

“Y/N? Hey, you still here?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I just zoned out for a sec. Well, you better get here safe or else someone is going to be very annoyed with you.”

Steve laughed softly across the line, and you adjusted yourself in bed, yawning softly.

“I’m sorry, I forgot how late it is over there,” Steve apologized.

“Don’t worry, I was up anyway. One of Miso’s boyfriends is pretty upset that he can’t come in here and spend the night with her.”

“Which one?”

“I think that grey one. I don’t really know what his voice sounds like, but she’s been leading him on lately,” you responded, eliciting a laugh from both you and Steve. 

“Try to get some sleep, okay? I don’t need you snoozing while I come to visit our girl.”

“You are something else, Steve Rogers,” you said fondly, adjusting your phone one last time as you hugged a pillow. “I’ll get to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You hung up, and cuddled into your pillow with a sigh. Calling your dreams that night sweet was an understatement. 

——

You seemed to be Steve’s first stop after his mission, stopping at your door with his duffel bag still attached to his arm, and wearing a slightly dirty and much too small white t-shirt.

Expecting his presence, you quickly got the door and gave him a toothy grin. 

“It’s so good to see your face without a screen,” Steve commented. Internally, you swooned. 

“I could say the same for you, Steve.”

Miso had been summoned by the sound of Steve’s voice, practically sprinting to the door and meowing at him on the top of her lungs. 

“Miso really appreciates you coming here to see her first,” you added as he lifted her up and quietly cooed into her wrinkly head. “Feel free to take her for the next few days. I’m sure she’s getting tired of me.”

Steve shook his head at you, and grinned, “that’s so sweet of you,” he briefly looked down at his wristwatch, and his brows raised.

“Shit. I have to go, but I promise to see you soon. I’m glad to see that everything is well. Take care, Y/N,” Steve began making his way back to his own apartment, and you watched him with the semblance of a frown. 

You really needed to stop longing for the unobtainable. 

——

You hadn’t heard from Steve in a few days following his return, and your brief interaction with him. Part of you wondered if he was avoiding you for some  reason. 

Your phone lit up the room as it went off, and you grabbed it to look at the notification you received.

A picture of Steve grinning with Miso sitting on his chest looked back at you with a simple message connected to it.

Wanna come over? :D

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader

Summary:

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!"

Warnings: Language, Canon typical Violence, Occasional Angst lets be real it's Jason we are talking about, Kidnappings..?

Word count: 1.6k

A/N:- I...should be studying right now buttt I had fun writing this and yes, I took the title from the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet, I think it fits this perfectly.

I wasn't going for a series but here we are.

Part 2, Part 3

•°•°•°•°

It was a quite night for Gotham. Every person was busy with their own work and so were you, even if it was a little different from what people down below on the streets were doing. As of yet, you had stopped two muggings, busted a few armed two-face goons trying to rob a bank and were currently running across rooftops.

'Maybeee I can get off easy today, go home, microwave the pizza that has been waiting for me in the fridge, get a nice, warm shower and then straight to bed'

You hummed to yourself at the delightful thought as you sat on a gargoyle overlooking the city. You were enjoying the feeling of the light breeze on your face. It was soothing in a way. Not long after, you were startled by your comms crackling to life out of nowhere as you heard Oracle's automated voice in your ears.

"Batgirl I am going to need you to check out the area near Gotham Central Park for any visible strange activity. There are several missing persons reports filed this week that I have tied up to that particular region."

'So much for a warm bath and a good night's sleep, way to jinx yourself (Y/N), you dumbass'

"Isn't that park under construction or something? You know after the whole Justice League fiasco last month?", you questioned.

"Yep but people still go there, in the mornings for walks and at the nights for certain activities."

"Of course they do, I swear, people here are on a whole different level." You sighed. "Alrighty then Babs, I am on it."

•°•°

After climbing up a couple of fire escapes and swinging off of numerous rooftops you finally reached your target destination. There was a deafening silence when your feet landed on the damp grass. You took in the misted surroundings and decided to look around for something out of the ordinary. There was a broken bright neon sign by the corner of the street which caught your attention, you could only make out the last bit, it spelled Parlor.

'That seems awfully familiar. Something about it is odd but I can't quite place my finger on it'

You were lost in thought when you felt someone move behind you, there was rather little time for you to react so you choose the 'hit first ask questions later' option. You clenched your fist, twisted your upper body and delivered a quick, staggering blow to the shady figure lurking behind.

.

"OWW!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

.

"HOOD?!"

Sure enough, Jason was on the ground clutching his ribs looking like a hurt puppy.

You moved your hands up and massaged you temples. You do not want to deal with him. Not today and if possible not ever. Even though you never let it show, you always avoided a run in with him. He may have become a part of the family again but you were far off from forgiving him.

You watched with narrowed eyes as he got to his feet and and dusted off the grass from his jacket.

"So on a Scale of one to Demon brat, how much do you hate me?", the smirk on his face and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at you almost made you want to smack him with a crowbar yourself.

"What? Dami?! I don't-- I don't hate Damian, he just gets on my nerves sometimes, something you do all the time.", you enjoyed, maybe a little too much, the way Jason's smirk turned into a small pout. You smiled a bit as you shook your head at his childishness.

"Before you start chucking batarangs at me I want to make this clear; No, Oracle did not send me here to be your backup or whatever, I just happen to be investigating the same thing which obviously led me here to you. So how about we work on this together and watch each other's back", Despite the uncertainty of your rejection, he sounded hopeful. It seemed as if he was ready to build the old, worn out bridges of your relationship back up again. It sent an unexpected warmth through your chest.

"Just like old times?"

"Just like old times.", Jason repeated as you both did a rather unsuccessful fist bump and grinned like idiots.

•°•°

You walked up to the seemingly abandoned building, Jason examined the door for traps whereas you decided on taking a look through the glass window.

"Hey! I see a vent inside, maybe if we get to the roof-"

BAMMMM

"Of course, just shoot open the lock and alert whoever's inside. What a great strategy! Why didn't I think of it?! Oh I know, because it's dumb!", you whisper shouted with a scowl. Jason just shrugged and tilted his head to the side, pointing towards the now open door.

"Ladies first, so lead the way, unless you're scared.", it was a playful challenge on Jason's part, one that you were more than ready to accept.

"Oh you're on Red."

You stepped inside and it was all business from there on. You took in the condition of the room; dusty desks, broken glass, oddly placed mannequins and footprints leading up ahead into a long hallway.

"They seem recent enough", Jason gave a slight nod at your discovery.

Considering the darkness of the hallway, you and Jason shared a look and switched on your night vision lenses. You both started taking cautious steps, the occasional soft thud of your boots being the only sound in the vicinity.

The end of the hallway was forked up and there were two rooms at the end of each passageway.

"How is this place so big! it didn't seem this huge from the outside", you could hear the exasperation in Jason's voice. You figured not getting to hit someone might be getting to him or that he was just bored.

"Look I will take the right, you take the left, our comms are already connected, if any one of us finds anything we tell the other and remember we do not engage in a fight alone. Am I clear or do you want me to write that down for you"

"Yes ma'am, but just so you know you are starting to sound like The old man", you rolled your eyes at his comment and went on ahead towards the right as he went the other way.

•°•°

You scrolled through the torn down bookshelf kept in one of the rooms and you were making a mental note in your mind that there were a lot of medical journals in the bunch, when your comms buzzed.

"I am sorry", Jason whispered in a soft voice and you froze for a spilt second, eyes widening.

'No (Y/N) don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he is saying, just focus on finding those missing people and get this over with'

With that thought you tried continuing your investigation as if you had heard nothing.

"I said, I am sorry (Y/N). I know you heard me. I also know you've been avoiding me, cutting me out and you don't have to reply if don't feel like it but...I just wanted you to know..."

"Now is not the right time for this Hood and...for what it's worth I am not looking forward to a forgiveness session with you...", you felt awful for cutting him out the way you did, your heart clenched at the harshness of your words as you clicked off your comms, but you refused to have this discussion right now. If you were being more honest to yourself you just couldn't bear the emotions it would bring, so you chose the easiest way; completely shutting him out.

It was few minutes after the highly uncomfortable talk with Jason that a wall poster had caught your eye. You moved your hand over it, somewhat wiping off the dust, there was something scribbled on it making it harder for you to read the actual text. You squinted, trying to make out the words

"The people need...perfection...and that is what Pretty Dolls Parlor strives to achieve."

You scanned the area near poster for fingerprints and clicked your comms back on.

"Hood, get over here, I found something and I think this is the make or break kind of information", you were waiting for scan to complete, concern creeping up your mind when there was no reply from the other end.

"Red Hood? can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Red?! Answer me Damnit!!"

A whole lot of Nothing.

As soon as you heard the chime of the scanner signaling its completion, you sped the other way towards the left corridor, towards Jason.

'Jay please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.'

By the time you reached Jason's location you were panting from the lack of breath and were already cursing yourself for bringing Jason along. To say that the man can take care of himself might be an understatement, he is basically a lone wolf, but still the thought of something happening to him while he was with you hurt like hell.

You looked around frantically and almost jumped out of your skin when you stepped on a gun. You heart almost stopped, it was Jason's. To make matters worse, there was no other sign of him or of were he went. You picked up the gun holding it securely in your hand. You could literally hear your heart pounding in your ears.

Suddenly, through the reflection from the glass window in front of you, you caught a glimpse of a man wearing a blank white face mask, you turned around, immediately switching to a fighting stance but that only did so much for you. A flashlight was switched on and shoved near your face, the night vision of your lens intensified the light, blinding you completely.

Before you could react, a metal pole connected straight with the back of your head and just like that you were lights out on the ground.

°•°•°•°•

Author's cute little extra Note:

*wiggling my eyebrows rn*

I might be a little too obsessed with the Arkham Knight game hehe.

Well that ended well for you, didn't it?? Jason's gone missing and you get a nice concussion to garnish your anxiety level? No? Okay I will stop talking now.

Tell me if you want to be tagged for the next parts.💕

[hillnerd]

For the ship and word game: Harry/Ginny, snitch ♥️

Thanks for the prompt! Hinny as parents - James is twelve. :)

SNITCH

It was December and so it was a cold grey day. There was no other kind of day in Scotland in December.

Despite the rather miserable weather, Ginny was jubilant as she trudged through the snow towards the familiar Quidditch pitch, red sweater on under her thick winter coat.

James had sent a letter late in the night. It was barely legible, and mentioned something about Quidditch. The follow-up letter from Teddy helped clarify things. James was in the reserves for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and was getting to fly his first game thanks to a chaser getting a bad case of Fwooper Flu.

No one had ever come to her games at Hogwarts as her mother had never been comfortable Apparating and couldn’t spare the Floo powder, while their father was always busy at work. It wasn’t something she particularly resented, but looking back she would have liked them to see her and cheer her on for her games.

Harry was off on a mission, but Ginny could spare the time, and was happy to get a chance to see James playing his first ever game. It was strange being back at Hogwarts after so many years. She’d been back a few times for memorials back in the early 2000’s, but it had been over a decade since then, and much had changed. In some ways it was the same- the Quidditch pitch didn’t look all that different, but the pathways to it had changed, the seating, and she was having trouble finding the locker room.

“Ginny!” she heard a voice call, and saw Neville waving in the crowd. She enthusiastically waved and jogged over.

“Hey Nev!” She smiled and gave a hug.

“Here to see James?”

“Yes! Though, I’ve not clue where the locker rooms are! Where’d they move them to?”

“Ah! Those are on the South side now. The old ones had a lot of old spell damage and got torn out, oh, five year ago now?” he explained, leading the way to the locker room.

She could hear the sounds of teens excitedly gearing up for the game.

The team were mostly students Teddy and Victoire’s ages, if she had to guess by the look of them. James, by comparison, looked tiny and pale. He was bouncing both his legs as he sat at his bench, hands running through his hair. He was already with uniform and pads on, while the rest of the team were more languorous in getting their pads in place.

She’d been exactly the same her first match as a Harpie.

“Knock knock,” she said, fully entering the room. The teens quieted down seeing there was an adult in the room, while James shot to his feet.

“Mum!” James cried out with a smile, before carefully schooling it to a much cooler nonchalant look. “Erm, what are you doing here?”

“Came to see your first big game, of course,” she laughed.

“Oh wait- that’s Ginny Potter!” cried out an eastern asian girl. One of the tall teenage whipped around, a furious blush on his face, before shutting his locker that had an old poster of hers. She remembered the row she’d had with her mum over the poster and how she wasn’t ‘fully in her uniform’ for the shot. Another kid, Oliver Wood’s daughter she’d met a few times over the years, gave a quick wave.

“Yup,” she said with a winning smile. “Best of luck, to all of you. Go Gryffindor!”

She caught James’s eye and was surprised to find him looking rather cross. She gave a quick gesture with her head to the door and he joined her just outside.

“Excited for your match?”

“Well I was…”

Oh dear. She could feel the tween angst rolling off of him.

“Everything alright?”

“Why’d you have to come into the locker room? No one else’s parents did that.”

“You sure about that? Because I know for a fact Oliver Wood was there for the first few years of your Keeper’s games.”

James bit his lip, adjusting his rectangular glasses.

“You sure?”

“Oh yes. And he wore full regalia and painted his face, so you’re old mum isn’t too much of an embarrassment by comparison.” She had no idea if Oliver Wood had done this, but it was the first embarrassing thing she could imagine to make her look a bit less bad by comparison.

“It’s not that you’re embarrassing…” he said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground.

“Oh?”

“I just… I want them to be thinking about how I’m good on my own. Not because of you.”

Oh. She’d not considered that as being a thing, but completely understood the sentiment.

“Hey, I can leave if—”

“No… No, I want you here. I’m glad you came,” he said, before furtively looking around him then leaning in to hug her.

“You’re going to crush it, James,” she whispered in his ear. “Remember to really tuck in your heels and arms when you’re doing any hard sprints. And look farther down the field so you can get a big picture of the whole game and really slow things down. Oh, and ‘give to get’ on your tight turns so that—”

“I know, I know!” James said, putting a hand through his messy auburn hair. It wasn’t as messy as Harry’s, but she had a feeling he’d been running hands through it more than usual.

“Best of luck, darling,” she said with a kiss to his forehead.

He gave her one of his most confident smiles, flashing his straight teeth, and for a moment she could just picture what he’d be like when he was quite grown up, a thought that terrified her.

“See you after the game,” she said, giving his hair a ruffle as she went to find her seat.

She looked for Neville amongst the stands, but spotted a familiar head of dark hair beside him.

“Harry?” she called out. He turned and grinned at her, wearing a Gryffindor scarf and facepaint on his cheeks.

“Go Gryffindor,” he said with a grin.

She smiled back, loving that he’d somehow made it to the game. She also loved how mortified James would be later. She was the cool parent; today at least.

“Nice to see you in your old colors,” she said, taking a seat beside her husband. “Thought you had a mission today?”

“The great thing about being Head Auror is you can push those off on other people,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “Plus it’s his first game. I couldn’t miss it. It’s nice to have someone in the stands rooting for you when you’re taking on something daunting.”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yell super loud when James flies out. He’ll love it!”

James might act embarrassed, but she was sure he actually would love having his father there cheering him on.

When James flew out Harry gave a giant whoop, which made James show off with some loop-de-loops instead of going red faced like Albus would have.

The match was a good one, and James was keeping up very well with players years older than he. She glowed as he followed her advice to ‘give to get’- slowing down on turns so he could gain more smooth speed on the long runs.

He was a natural chaser and she couldn’t be more proud.

James was in a perfect tail slide transition with his Quaffle when a bludger was his his direction. Too intent on looking down the field, and with all the cheers, he missed her and Harry’s scream as their son took a Bludger to the back of his head and went tumbling from his broom.

There were a number of spells on the field to prevent a student from making impact with the ground (something they could have used back in her and Harry’s day). It did nothing to prevent the terror scraping at her insides seeing her little boy put on a stretcher with blood running down his temple, glasses smashed and laid on his chest. Harry’s jaw was set and he made an incongruous sight looking so grim while adorned in the bright face paint.

James was rushed to the hospital wing, and she and Harry stayed by his side the whole way there. All his cousins and Teddy came to visit, but they dispersed once they knew James would be alright, with the exception of Teddy who opted to stay.

James was healed and bandaged up by Hannah Longbottom. Despite knowing James was fully healed, they opted to stay until he woke up. Teddy nodded off in a nearby chair, his hair subconsciously turning the same color as James’s as he slept.

Ginny stood looking at James’s sleeping face until her vision blurred. She could picture him when he was just a tiny baby, his look of mischief on his face as he padded along the halls on pudgy legs, toddling after Teddy and Harry, wanting to be so grown up.

Harry took her hand and squeezed it.

“He’s alright, love.”

“I know,” she replied, swiping at her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking of him as a baby, for some reason.”

Harry gave a dry laugh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Is it just me, or is being a parent a bit like having a time turner? In the blink of an eye you can see your twelve year old as a baby or when he first walked.”

“Especially when they’re asleep,” she said, stroking James’s lightly freckled cheek. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too. He flies just like you, you know,” said Harry before standing beside her.

“I was thinking some of those loop-de-loops looked like you at that age.”

“Naw, all his brilliance is from his Mum,” he said, leaning in to gently kiss her.

“Eurgh…” James gave a grunt, squinting at them. “What happened?”

“You got a bludger to the back of your head. Same injury your dad had in his sixth year.”

“Wicked…” said James, before his eye went wide. “Who won the game?”

“Gryffindor, even though they didn’t catch the Snitch. You Chasers were that good!” said Harry, sitting beside James.

Ginny could picture James’s first broom ride, with Harry excitedly following beside him so he wouldn’t slip off the tiny broom.

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂｏｔｈｅｒ

📎Word Count: 2.2k

📎Warning/s: smut! minors DNI. mean!fuckboy!bucky x f!reader. unprotected sex. little to no foreplay, because, well, he just wants to get his dick wet. denied orgasm :( no aftercare too lol he’s an asshole in this one. messy facial! some heckin’ words.

📎A/N: jesus fuckiNG CHRIST okay this is one of my longer fics, i’m trying to get back into writing long fics again so, bear with me. fuckboy!bucky playlist to accompany you while reading this <3 

📎reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed! shower me with validation pls

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The bass line and the drumbeat made your heart pump in sync. The room reeked of cheap drinks and expensive perfume—sweaty patrons swirling, mingling around, keeping their drinks cold, their hearts warm.

Chatter peaked when the band finished the song, a round of applause rising the frontman’s ego. The spotlight shone brightly on him, the stage lights hitting his back, lighting up his silhouette with pinks and purples.

He beams with adrenaline. All perfect smiles.

Slinging his stickered guitar to the side, he speaks into the mic, “thank you all for coming. We’ve been The Commandos. Goodnight!” The frontman flashes his million-dollar, megawatt smile and bows, earning another applause from the audience.

The rest of the band slinked out the back, bowing, giving out air-kisses and waves. Another band piles onto the stage, waving hello to the gathering crowd.

You sigh, the bottom of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor of the bar. The overhead lights of the bar a bright yellow contrast to the stage’s red hue. The beer in your hand condensing, the tips of your fingers damp in the process. The warmth of the place piling on your impatience.

Pushing yourself off the bar, you make your way to the back, one thing echoing in your mind. Familiar faces crowd your vision, sending a polite smile their way.

A door stands in front of you, the wood stained with stickers and posters and autographs. You knock twice before turning the knob.

“Where’s Bucky?” You say, leaning against the door frame. The door slowly swings open.

A blonde man, what’s-his-face, looks at you and puts down a pair of drumsticks, “‘Dunno what to tell ya, but he’s not here.”

Your roll your eyes, sending him a mirthless smile, “yeah, obviously. I was hoping if you could tell him to meet me tonight.”

Steve—you suddenly remembered his name—eyed you head to foot, a smirk plastered on his face, “Sounds important. Why don’t you hang out with us while waiting for him?”

A chuckle escapes your lips, “no, thanks. I’ll meet him outside.”

Steve makes a face, quirking a light brow to the rest of the group. All of them sharing the same look, “alright. Suit yourself.”

The clock ticks just ten minutes after 11, your patience growing thin as a needle. A gaggle of drunk patrons stumbles out the door when you spot him—leather jacket, distressed, ripped pants.

“Where’s my ring?” Without missing a beat.

Bucky’s lips quirk into a smirk, “whoa, baby, we fucked once,” he made you come thrice, “and you’re asking for a ring already?”

A shiver runs up your spine, whether it’s from disgust or something else, it wasn’t clear, “you know what I meant. I left my ring on your nightstand.”

“Deliberately, or…”

Your hands curl up in frustration, your left shin itching, “c’mon. Do you have it or not?” 

His intentionally undone boots scuffed against the floor as he stalks closer to you, his perfume invading your olfactory senses. Oh, he smells good. 

“D’you wanna find out?” His voice dropping a couple of octaves, whispering into the shell of your ear. His thick arms caging you against the bar and the wall. Fuck, he smells really good.

A feeble attempt to make room goes unnoticed, your breath hitching in your throat, “If you don’t have it on you, I’d gladly receive it through the mail.”

Bucky licks his tinged lips, a vein in his temple ticking—the lighting reflecting in his blue eyes, “why would I mail it to you when you can pick it up from my place?”

A rational voice in your head echoes, fighting with your impulse. The closeness of both of your bodies radiating warmth and electricity.

“Fine.” You relented, impulsivity is what got you there in the first place.

The drive to the place shouldn’t take too long, the little shit deliberately took the long way to his place. 

While you sit on the passenger side of his car, he keeps sending you amused glances. As if he couldn’t believe you’d willingly go with him tonight. Well, technically, it really wasn’t part of your plan.

“You wanna get burgers first?” He offers, lowering the music coming from the car’s stereo.

“I wanna get my ring back, Bucky.” You say, reminding him—and yourself—of what your agenda for tonight is.

He dismisses you, as per usual. And pulls over a drive-through of a local burger place, ordering himself a meal.

Instead of getting back out on the highway, he parks the car, rolls down the window, and eats.

“Jesus- fuck, Bucky!” You exclaimed in frustration, “look, if you want to waste my time, then-”

“Then, what?”

“Then go fuck yourself.” You left in a huff, swinging your legs and slamming the car door shut. Hoping that he’d go deaf in one ear.

Making sure that you’re well visible and in a brightly-lit place, you pull out your phone to book an Uber. Only to find Bucky making his way to you for the second time tonight.

“Hey!” Didn’t even used your name to call you, great work!

“I do have it, it’s really back in my place. By the lamp on the bedside table.” The truth lingers out on the night air, waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You meet Bucky’s statement with a wary squint, he meets your rightful doubt with a smile.

“No more stopovers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky’s place is a liminal space for you. 

The familiar shadows and corners welcome you, the surfaces on where your bare skin sat hissed at you. You stood by the doorway, not wanting to prolong the journey.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s just me. Sit down.” Exactly, it is him.

You shake your head, leaning by the wall like a stranger, “I’m good. You’re not gonna take long anyway.”

But instead of retrieving your jewelry, his form retreats to the kitchen. A few seconds pass and you hear the crack and hiss of a beer bottle being opened.

“Y’know, I think I’ll just get it myself.” You toe off your shoes, placing them by the door. Your jacket still hanging off your shoulders.

You passed by Bucky, walking towards a love seat, two beers on one hand, “hurry up, then. Got a drink for ya.”

Hazy images play by memory the last time you were here, his damn cologne seeping into your nostrils.

Your head hanging by the edge of the bed as he laps your cunt like a man starved.

The headboard supporting your balance as you bounce up and down his thick cock.

Carpeting that gave your knees burn as he fucked you from behind.

Like an etch-a-sketch, you shake your head to get rid of the scenes that made themselves known.

A shining glint from the bedside table catches your eye, you swipe the ring and stashed it down your jacket pocket.

Coming out of the room with your ring, your slight smile falters as you saw Bucky lounging shirtless. As rightfully so, this is his home anyway.

You steeled yourself despite the heat that’s making its way up to your neck, “uh, I already got it. Thanks, Bucky.”

He shoots you a look—a lingering one. Like a predator about to pounce on prey. His stare chasing the goosebumps under your clothes.

“You sure you wanna go? It’s–” he glances at his phone for the time, “–past midnight.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” The setup.

“How about I take care of you for a change?” The trap.

And then just as sudden as your arrival, you find yourself pressed up against the wall. The agenda of the night has already been forgotten.

Bucky’s mouth finds its temporary home on your jaw, moving down your neck. His large hands already clawing their way under your shirt, the suddenness of the moment stirring the heat in your belly.

Rushed hands and panted breaths meet feverish lips.

The moment his tongue slipped into your mouth was the moment where you lost all inhibitions. Your hands fly to his nape, tugging his hair, effectively making him moan into your mouth.

“You know me so well.” He purrs against your lips. Hitching your legs up his hips as he presses you harder against the drywall.

“Lots of people know you so well.” You bite back, knowing for a fact that he sees others behind your back.

“True,” he’s murmuring against your pulse point and you sigh, “you’re my favorite though.”

Your jacket clutters against the floor of his bedroom, along with his pants and your shirt. A yellow stream of light emits from the living room.

Bucky tosses you on the bed, sending the pillows crashing on the floor. Though the room is darkened with curtains, your eyes adjust enough to see him as he pulls your ankles towards him.

His abs are chiseled like a Greek god, his skin tanned, decorated with tattoos. His left nipple adorns a stainless steel piercing. Like the last time, he grabs your hand, trailing it along his torso, letting you feel his deep v-lines.

A lewd moan escapes your lips as you cup his hardening cock through his boxers. Thick and heavy, a perfect fit.

“You like it?” Bucky taunts, jutting his hips against your hand. You squeeze him lightly, earning you a deep groan from the man above you.

His hand suddenly tightens around your throat, pulling your head towards him, “I asked you a question.”

Giving him a small nod and a meek yeah seemed to have sufficed until he flips you on your stomach and forces your face down the bed.

Your skirt joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your panties do too.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Bucky taunts, one thick finger swiping the wetness between your folds. Spreading it around as preparation. A muffled confirmation made him chuckle as he pinches your clit with intention.

Taking his leaking cock out of his boxers, he swipes the bead of precum from his angry-red tip. He takes his sweet, sweet time before even thinking about pushing into your pussy.

Bucky drags the head of his cock up and down your fold, earning a needy moan from you—coating his entire length with your wetness.

After seemingly an eternity on your side, the sheets already imprinted their impression on the side of your cheek. Bucky finally, fucking finally, pushes into you. A short, white-hot burn shoots through your nerves, making you whimper.

His hand stays on the back of your neck, pushing you further down the bed as he moves. Your pussy lips gripping his dick like a vice, “so fucking tight. God.”

Bucky’s chest swelled up with pride as he notices your fingers digging into his sheets, “no one can fuck you this good.”

The bed squeaks with both of your weight shifting as he reaches around you, his fingers working around your bud. The pressure of his upper body makes you gasp with every thrust of his hips.

He continues to work you—his fingers circling tightly on your throbbing clit, his cock nudging the soft, spongy spot in you. Your toes curl with red heat as your orgasm begins to burn up your legs.

“I’m gonna-- ‘m so close,” your pleas fell on deaf ears as Bucky chases his own high. His balls slapping against your skin, his hips stuttering as his cock pulsates inside your velvet walls.

He curses, grabbing your shoulder and flipping you upside, kneeling before you. His hand pumping his dick continuously as it twitches—the veins even more prominent.

“Open your mouth, I’m gonna cum in it.” Bucky orders and you obey. Your fingers finding their way to your abandoned bundle of nerves—your climax threatening to fade away.

Thick ropes of cum shoot over your mouth, painting your lips and chin white as he misses.

“God, fuck, look at your mess.” Bucky sighs, he’s already tucked back into his boxers and handing you a shirt—presumably to clean yourself up.

“You got your ring? Anything else?” The annoyance in his tone is evident. The clock ticks half past midnight.

You dangle your purse in front of him as a gesture, the wind picks up and your shoes are loose on your feet.

“Alright, well, you could wait for your ride here, I guess.” Bucky dropped the act the moment he got his dick in you.

“Yeah, he’s just around the corner. Thanks for the, uh, ring.”

He hums, looking at his phone. His thumbs dancing over the keyboard, “Try not to bother my friends again when you wanna reach me.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or to smack the phone out of his hands, “yeah. Tried calling you but I’m pretty sure you blocked my number.”

A curt laugh echoes out from him, “‘m sorry. Out of habit. You know how it is.”

“Right.” And an awkward beat falls over the both of you.

A black car pulls up by the street and you silently thank the stars. By the time you turn around to at least do the right thing and bid Bucky goodnight, you find yourself facing a closed door.

[abbyilr1967]

Making Up for Lost Time - Tetsuro Kuroo x Reader

Summary: The reader and Kuroo are getting ready to graduate, he meets her back at the volleyball clubhouse to confess some things he’s been holding in for years.

A/n: Wow, my account really is feeding all my weebs out there. Also, there’s really no plot to this, just kinda wanted to write this cute, fluffy little thing cuz I love my baby Kuroo. As per usual, here is a link to my Masterlist.

Warnings: swearing (like a little).

Word Count: 1.3k

The spring breeze flows through your hair as you climb the steps to the volleyball club’s clubroom. Walking in you’re faced with the memories you made over the past three years as their manager. It all started because your friend from middle school, Tetsurō Kuroo, thought that you would be a good replacement manager after the third-year manager graduated. You had your doubts in the beginning but never thought volleyball would become a huge part of your life. 

Kuroo was always energetic, and it was contagious. 

The best years of high school were spent with the Nekoma Volleyball Club, and you made some incredible friends along the way. Especially with Kuroo. You’d known him since middle school and had always had a bit of a crush on him. So when the third-year manager said he’d suggested you as a replacement you were a little surprised. But you are grateful he did because now you stand in the clubroom reminiscing. 

You go around the room, looking at all the things the boys had left around. Obviously, they haven’t come round to pick up their stuff before the summer. You, however, were there to collect your things for the last time. You and the other third years on the team are graduating in a few days, and with your final exams all done, there was nothing left for you to do except wipe your existence clean from the school. 

As you were piling your belongings into the small box you brought, you are interrupted by the spiky-haired captain himself. Although I guess former captain is more fitting now. 

“Hey Y/l/n, whatcha doing?” he asks, leaning against the door frame. 

“Hey, I’m just gathering my things,” you say, turning from the box to face him. “I’m gonna miss this place after graduation.” You and Kuroo stand in silence for a moment, admiring the posters, medals, and plaques that adorn the walls. He pushes himself off the doorframe and moves to help you pack up your things. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” he responds. 

“Are you going to continue with volleyball?” you ask. 

“I’m gonna play in university, not sure if I want to go pro though.”

You hum in acknowledgement, continuing to pack away your things.

“What are you going to do?” He asks in return. 

“I’m going to college locally, didn’t want to go too far from home yet.” You finish packing your things away and turn back to Kuroo. He looks surprisingly awkward, which is unusual for the suave and confident man. 

“Well,” you grab the box full of your things. “I guess this is it.” 

You extend your hand out to Kruoo, offering him a handshake, afraid to do any more than that. For a split second, you swear he looks almost sad. He takes your hand in his and gives its tight squeeze. 

“I’m gonna miss you Kuroo,” you say, letting go of his hand reluctantly. 

“I’m gonna miss you too.”  You turn and make your way towards the door, a little disappointed with yourself that you were too nervous to say more. 

As you walk down the hallway you get lost in all the memories of the times you spent with Kuroo. All then stolen glances, all the lingering touches, and all the close shoulders during team huddles. You were never going to forget him. 

“Y/n!” Kuroo shouts, running to catch up with you. “Stop!” 

“Kuroo?” 

He approaches you, huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, you set the box on the ground behind you. 

“I don’t really know how to start this,” he wheezes, hunched over on himself. “But I’ve got to get something off my chest.” He straightens himself back to his full height, looking down on you with a glint in his eye. 

“Kuroo I—” You glance away from him, heart beating out of your chest when he takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“I like you Y/n,” he starts. “And I’m pretty damn certain I love you. But I’ve liked you ever since the end of middle school, and being back in that clubroom made me think of all the time we spent together, and all the time I want to spend with you in the future.” 

Your lip trembled slightly, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you. Slowly, you bring your hands up to hold his wrists, needing something real to ground you in this moment. 

“Do you know why I recommended you as the replacement manager all those years ago?”

“No,” you say, trying not to stutter, but failing miserably. 

“Other than the fact that I knew you would be perfect for the job, which I was right,” he jokes. “But I wanted to spend more time with you.” 

You unexpectedly start giggling, smile so wide it almost hurts. 

“What’s so funny?” He removes his hands from your face and rests them atop your shoulders. 

“Kuroo,” you’re slowly starting to get yourself under control. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school, and when the old manager told me you recommended me my heart was beating out of my chest because I thought you never noticed me.” Your emotions get the better of you and one stray tear falls down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” his thumb brushes the tear away. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“It’s a happy tear I promise,” you say, running your thumbs over his knuckles. 

“Can I,” he hesitates. “Can I kiss you?” 

Your heart leaps into your throat, and your palms become heated. Unable to speak through the lump in your throat, you lightly nod at him in response. You let go of his hands as they move to cup your face, and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours, sweet and supple. Your hands find their way around his neck, pulling him in closer. The kiss becomes more demanding, and against better judgement, you pull back. 

He rests his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your face as you both catch your breaths. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say anything,” he breaths, pulling you into a tight hug. He’s buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you do the same. 

“I’m sorry I never said anything too,” you whisper, snuggling further into him. 

“C’mon, my car is just down there. Let’s go,” you suggest. 

“Where too?” he asks, wiggling his eye brows at you. 

“Anywhere, we’ll drive until we find a spot. Some place we could call ours.” 

“I like that idea very much,” he says, placing a quick kiss to your lips. He steps past you, grabbing the box from the ground. 

“Lead the way.” 

~ 

You park the car, practically pushing Kuroo out so you could show him the spot your remember from childhood. 

“This is the end of a walking trail my family and I used to walk on when I was a kid. I haven’t been here in years,” you’re practically pulling him behind you as your excitement gets the better of you. 

“See, beautiful isn’t it.” You look out across the city. The sun had begun to set by this time, so the city lights were becoming brighter by the minute. 

“It is, but I still think you’re more beautiful,” his arm snakes around your shoulder, pulling you in so he can kiss your temple. You bury your face in his chest, trying to hide your blush from him again. “Tetsurō,” you whine. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’m just trying to make up for lost time.” 

“I know,” you whisper. “I know.” You and Tetsurō watch as the sun begins to set over Tokyo, watching as the people continue about their lives while your’s and Tetsurō’s stay still. 

“I love you, Tetsurō.” 

“I love you too, Y/n.” 

[dragon-of-dreams]

Puzzling

My Masterlist

Part 5 to Cracking a Code

1;  2;  3;  4

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching, caregiving, but like by Steve, so not really, self-harm references (previous chapter, not premeditated), discussion of eating

Summary: Steve takes you home to “take care” of you.

A/n: I’m not super happy with this chapter… and maybe I’ll redo it sometime in the future, but I just wanted to give you an update. Sorry, that everything takes so long!

Word count: 2,300

The rest of the drive passed in a blur. Steve’s hand hardly left your thigh and you let him. You were so exhausted, you didn’t have the energy to fight him off anymore. You felt yourself retreating into your body, away from the reality of being groped in the fancy sports car of America’s bravest hero.

Steve helped you up the steps to your apartment. You’re entire body was shaking, leaving you on unsteady feet. If you didn’t know better you’d say you were coming down with a fever. But the reason for the shivers coursing through you was so much larger. Not something a few pills could fix. Steve gently led you into your home, almost as if he owned the place, deposited you on the couch, and covered you in a blanket. As he tucked you in, his hands respectful and his touch kind you surfaced for a brief second out of the hole of despair his comment in the car had put you in.

“There you are, angel.” Steve smiled as he noticed how your eyes started to focus a bit. “I’ll make you something to eat. I’ll be right back.” With that, he leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, before retreating to your kitchen. You watched him rummage around in the tiny space adjoining your living room. He looked at ease, at home, and oh so loving. Did yesterday really happen? you wondered. There they were again. Those thoughts you had to brandish all day yesterday as well. You started to stare off into the middle distance; once more slipping away from reality and the physical pain left in your body. You heard Steve tut slightly, the fridge door opening and closing, then the same sound from a bunch of your cabinet doors. Just as you wanted to call out to him, to ask if he needed help, a robotic response drilled into you by your mother, Steve appeared before you almost as if out of thin air. His gait as silent as any other predator’s.

“Darling,” he sounded concerned, “did you eat yet?”

You looked up at him, doe-eyed. “I.. uh… I must have. I have some overnight oats in the fridge, so if there are only three glasses in there, then yeah.” To be honest you couldn’t remember, nothing made sense.

“There’s four, darling… You really gotta eat breakfast! It’s important to keep your strength up, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah… I usually do. I promise” Why do I not wanna make him sad? Why do I want him to be proud of me? You thought bewildered, as you looked into Steve’s worried eyes before all semblance of structured thought left you again to the tide of confusion washing over you and pulling you under.

“Ok, babe, I trust you. I’ll make some now, okay? You just sit tight.” All you could do was nod. It was like it was all happening to someone else. You weren’t really here. You were so far away and so present at the same time that it hurt.

As Steve left you your mind went to war with itself.

Steve wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t the hero on those posters, was he? But he was making you breakfast, he tucked you in. He sent Bucky to check on you. No… No, he sent Bucky to make sure you didn’t go to the police. Right? Right.

You could feel your mind shut off, drawing you down with it. All that happened, Steve’s non-linear behavior pushing you over the edge. Nothing made sense.

You barely noticed as Steve fed you breakfast, bite by bite, all that registered somewhere deep within you was his calm, deep guiding voice: “One more bite, there you go, good girl” all his encouragement mushing together in your brain, a soothing sensation flowing through your pain-addled brain.

After breakfast, you could feel Steve manipulate your body, as he wrapped himself around you and put on your favorite movie. As you lay there engulfed in the arms of this giant man, accompanied by the sounds of the movie you had watched a million times, you slowly started to become aware of yourself again. The body heat was so soothing and Steve’s deep humming voice pushed the fear that had kept you paralyzed further and further away. Making way for a seething rage, fickle but growing. As you tensed and readjusted your limbs Steve leaned forwards and kissed your temple. “I knew you were still in there, angel. I made some tea. It should still be hot. I put it in a thermos. Let’s talk okay?” Steve carefully helped you sit, every touch his, stoking the anger burning through you. Then, oblivious to the shift in your mood, he got up to grab the tea and cups as you looked around as if you were seeing your place for the first time. It no longer held the feeling of safety that comes with any good home. All you could see was Steve controlling you, in the TV that was slightly turned, the smell of his cologne on your couch, the dirty pans in the sink.

When Steve came back, your head was much clearer and you carefully reached for your cup and made sure to keep your distance from Steve as subtly as you could. Whatever was to come, was going to be important.

“You know darling, you will have to be nicer to Bucky. He’s only trying to help when I can’t be there. New York is dangerous, always has been. No one knows that better than me and Buck. He texted me, saying you were really rude on the train this morning, and quite frankly, darling, I’m disappointed that I even have to say this, but you have to appreciate what we do for you, okay?” Steve’s voice is calm, collected, and rational. There is nothing but honest concern in it for a moment it disrupts the anger building within you. “It’s time to play nice with Bucky now, okay? Be nice to him, maybe even as nice as you have been for me, understand?”

It’s the last sentence that sets you off, Steve’s expectant gaze, belittling you, that makes you blow your lid.

“What? What are you talking about? Play nice? I wasn’t being nice to you! I don’t want your protection or your attention, or Bucky’s for that matter!” Your voice is rising, as you grip your cup of tea so tight its heat sears your palms. “Get out of my life!” you yell. Then like a bucket of cold water realization sets in. Every muscle in Steve’s body tightens, you see his body expand with the change, looming over you, blacking out the window. You expect Steve to yell, beat you up, but when you dare to look up at his face, it is almost passive, but there is danger burning beneath his façade.

“I understand this is difficult for you.” Steve’s voice turns harder with every word. You notice the missing pet name like a slap to your face. “But I am getting pretty tired of this conversation. You need to rain in that attitude of yours, okay? Because I won’t tolerate you being a spoiled brat who doesn’t see what’s best for them. I’m looking out for you here, taking care of you, something you apparently struggle with,” with that Steve gestures at the remnants of your breakfast, the one he had to make for you, “and all I expect in return is some gratitude, towards me and towards Bucky. This is not up for discussion. And if you can’t behave, you’ll have to deal with the consequences, young lady. Is that understood?” By the end of his speech, Steve has risen to his feet, towering over you, his voice booming to fill your apartment, while you cower into the sofa. Your breathing is shallow and you are petrified. It feels too much like last night. When you didn’t have a choice either. And everything he was saying was making sense. New York was dangerous. And you really were terrible at feeding yourself correctly… Those oat thingies were just the newest thing you were trying in your never-ending quest to live more healthily… Usually, your job took preference over clean living. And Bucky hadn’t done anything to you either. He’d just been there to watch out for you… Steve, well… Steve really had done that, but he also held you today, when your brain shut down and made you food. He could have just left you at work, where you surely would’ve gotten nothing done or even caused trouble if you fucked up your work…

Shakily you nod and watch some of the tension leave Steve’s body and he crouches down in front of you. “Good, I knew you were smart like that. Now we can either go have a bath and soothe your body or you can freak out again and then I swear I’ll make you bear the consequences of your behavior for real this time. So what’s it gonna be, princess?”

You stare at him for a second. How is he so rational? Why does this all make sense? Authority has always been your weakness, and so you just nod because what the Captain says goes, and you learned that the hard way, and let Steve lead you to the bathroom. Maybe you will get to lay in his arms again and hear him praise you. It felt so good when he held you on the couch. You were safe in his arms. All you want is to be back in his embrace. Where the harsh reality can’t hurt you. So you allow Steve to strip you down, as hot water pours into your tub.

Suddenly Steve’s grip on your hip tightens painfully, as yanks your jeans off of you. You look down, scared, and find him staring at the bruises you must have caused yourself in the shower this morning when you were trying to wash the night away. “What is this? Explain, now!” he seethes and turns his scorching gaze towards you.

“I, when I showered, I, I just wanted to get clean…” you stammer.

“Clean? Clean! You hurt yourself! Jeez! How dare you do something like that to yourself? I really can’t let you out of my sight for one second, can I? Gotta watch you like a little kid!”

You feel a pang in your heart. You weren’t trying to be bad! You want to tell Steve, but he just turns off the water, grabs your upper arm, and drags you from the bathroom into your bedroom. As you stumble after him, you try to figure out what is happening.

“Steve?” you plead as he sits down on the bed and puts you over his lap.

“No, darling, not anymore. I have been way too kind to you so far, but apparently, the nice approach doesn’t work with you. So discipline is what you get.” He thunders, and then his hand is hitting your bum with enough force to make you scream. It happened so fast that your head is spinning.

As you lie across his lap everything felt like it’s wrapped in cotton. So much skin-to-skin contact fries your over-worked and touch-starved brain into submission as Steve’s hand is raining down on your ass, painting it crimson. You burst into tears without any control over yourself. “Steve,” you sob, “Steve please, I didn’t mean to, I swear, Steve!” and just as those words leave your mouth, he stops, picks you up, and hugs you close. Your nerve endings sing at the close contact and you sag into him, all tension leaving your body. His hands draw soothing circles on your back as he holds you tight.

“I got you baby.” Steve whispers as he settles you on the bed, “I know that hurt, but I needed you to see, you know?”

You cry and nod, burrowing into his hulking form hovering over you.

“I’ll make it better baby, I’ll make it all good, now,” Steve murmurs, as he leans in to kiss your forehead, while his right hand comes down and starts to play with your clit. “Oh darling, look at you! You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Only then do you register the slick coating your thighs, embarrassed you want to turn from him, but Steve cages you in. “It’s okay babe, no reason to be shy about it. There is nothing wrong with wanting your man. Really, it just shows that you understand my discipline with you. I’m real proud of you, angel, real proud.” He mutters as he spreads your lips and slips two fingers in. You can’t help but moan and arch into him.

Steve is nothing but kind and soft with you as he readjusts both of your bodies until he sinks into your heat, and you both moan in unison. “There we go, darling. See how good I can be for you? There we go.” As he starts moving, slow and deep within you peace settles over you. “I’ll make you forget all that pain, babe, it’ll all be gone in just a minute now.” His fingers are rubbing circles around your clit while he keeps murmuring sweet encouragements into your ears as you climb and climb towards an orgasm that is so deep that it leaves you boneless in Steve’s arms until he finishes with a broken grunt deep inside of you. As Steve settles you in his arms after you can’t remember the last time you felt this sated, as you drift into a deep sleep with Steve’s spend slowly trickling out of you. For a split second, before you fall asleep the horror of what is happening to you is clear in your mind, but then, thankfully, once more your exhaustion pulls you under.

[missdawnandherdusk]

No Place Like Home

Draco X Hufflepuff!Reader

An Alternate Reality (read the entire series here)

Summary: In a world with no such thing as magic, or wars, or potions, what happens when you find yourself in a muggle school with an equally confused Draco... and your very alive father? It’s a perfect world... but it’s not home. 

A/n: So, I watched WandaVision, and well I have a few things to say. Anyway here’s out Hufflepuff darling in the same situation and me toying with what she would choose on a much shorter time line. Let me know if this hurts you as much as it hurts me. 

“Miss Y/l/n!” The loud voice woke me from my slumber, and I sat up abruptly. “Please sleep on your own time and not in my classroom!”

“Sorry, professor,” I rubbed my eyes, blinking.

The room was a bright cream color with vibrant posters on the walls. The desks were a cheap knock off wood and the chairs were plastic and metal. The floor was tile. The projector showed... chemistry. The notebook under my arms was filled with chemistry notes all done in pencil. The kids around me weren’t in uniform. They were... muggle.

I was in a muggle school.

Internalizing my panic, I started to think furiously about how in the world I had ended up in a muggle school. I should be at... and I should be with... and I had a... with... and I was planning...

A splintering agony surged through my head. I gasped and pressed against my temples, trying to ease the pain.

“Miss Y/l/n! If you are going to disrupt my class, then please remove yourself!” My eyes flashed up to a stranger. I didn’t know a face that surrounded me.

I stumbled out of my seat and out of the classroom into the hallway. Again, the floors were tile and the walls an awful plaster painted an off-white. A bulletin board gave information about school spirit and upcoming events. All of the paper was an obnoxious neon color that did not aid my headache. My hand went to my bag to get out a... I frowned. I normally had them on me. They... they were...

In my painful fervor, I ran into someone. My headache subsided at the sight of him. 

“Draco!” I sighed in relief.

“Yes? Do I know you?” He raised an eyebrow at me, a cold look on his face. I took a small step back my brows furrowing. My hand went to the hollow of my neck where my locket normally hung, but it was gone.

“Draco,” I couldn’t believe it. “You don’t.... you don’t know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around school, but no.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know you knew my name,”

I know a lot more than just your name, I thought in vain. I worried my lip, trying to find the best course of action. There was no answer for me.

“I’m... Y/n,” I spoke slowly, to be sure of my words. “Could you... help me?” 

“Are you alright?” He almost scoffed.

“Uh... no not really,” I admitted. “I have a terrible headache and it feels like the room is spinning a bit,”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright, I’ll take you to the nurse,” I didn’t expect his kindness. I don’t think he expected it either judging by the furrow of his brow and the indignation in his eyes.

As we walked along in the hall, I attempted to memorize the route, or even find some sort of marker that differentiated one hall from the next but there was nothing. It was a maze of mundane.

The only comfort I had was walking by Draco’s side. There was still something off. I yearned to reach and hold his hand. The longer we walked along the quicker my headache subsided. I had glimpses into memories of laughing with him. Dancing, walking, kissing, smiling, fighting...

I looked down at my hands and for the blink of an eye they were covered in blood. I gasped and the pain in my head intensified.

“Hey, woah, are you okay?” Draco asked, steadying me.

“No,” I screwed my eyes shut. “Something... something’s... Merlin I wish I could remember!” 

“Did... Did you just say Merlin?”

“...Yes,” I dared to open my eyes to see curiosity in Draco’s.

“Who in the world are you?” He was mystified, reaching out to steady me. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, everything came into perspective.

A thousand memories came flooding back. Train rides and magic. Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Harry Potter and Quidditch. Wands and short hair. Robes and castles. And Draco, a thousand times Draco. In every memory, woven into every part of my psyche. It always came back to him. It always centered on him.

“Draco, something is wrong,” I stressed, pacing the hall, the pain in my head gone now that my memories returned. “This... this isn’t right,”

“Well of course it isn’t right,” His words sparked a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all. “I shouldn’t be here. We should both be in class.”

“But you should be here!” I raised my voice. “How can you not remember me, Draco! How can you not remember everything we went through together!? Why does no one remember!? Where are we!?” My hands went to my hair to run through it anxiously but the perfectly done updo constrained me. “Oh this stupid hair!” I started to pull out the pins and ties that held it into place and muss it up until it was falling at odd angles around my shoulders. “Oh, I wish I had my wand so I could chop it all off!”

Draco’s eyes flashed to mine at my final statements, something familiar in his eyes. The Draco that I knew. The one who I loved. But it was soon gone replaced by the caring ditz of a schoolboy.

“No,” I refuted, wanting that look back. “Wait,” I paused, going to him. “You remembered something. I know that look,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He stood, turning his back to me.

“Draco Malfoy,” I snapped. “You remember! Merlin all it took was me shouting at you! You arrogant egotistical little twat!” I was giddy with the fact that Draco remembered.

“I don’t—” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I... I can’t see it all. Just... flashes. Brief glimpses... then it’s gone,” He turned to me, his brows knitted together. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “There’s just... there’s something off. Something missing. There’s supposed to be magic. And wands, and something called Hogwarts... and... Voldemort,”

Draco hissed and glared at me. “Don’t you ever say that name!” He pinned me to the hallway wall.

My eyes widened in shock at his outburst, but it was a brief moment because suddenly Draco was struggling to stand, staggering over to adjacent wall to steady him.

“Draco?” The concern in my voice was evident.

“I... I think I need to lie down,” He choked out.

“You do remember,” The revelation quelled my old fears but brought on new ones.

“I... my head hurts,”

“I know,” I comforted softly, reaching out for him. “Let’s get you to the nurse,”

“You have no idea where that is,” He muttered, leaning against me as a crutch.

“Not really,” A smile played at my lips.

“I liked your hair shorter... I can almost see it...” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why do you remember fully, and I can’t?”

“I don’t know...” I mused. “I don’t know if I’m even supposed to remember anything. This has to be some sort of spell... a curse.”

We had found our way to the office, Draco conscious enough that he remembered the way. The receptionist eyed us, but Draco with his usual schmooze, lied elegantly. It made me smile, knowing that he was still just as clever here as back... back home.

“Alright sweetie,” The receptionist clacked on her computer and smiled sweetly. “I’ll just call your dad and have him come and get you,”

“My dad? You’ll call my dad?” I stammered out, leaning against the raised front desk for support.

“Or I can call your mom if it’s too much trouble,” The receptionist smiled kindly. “Are you sure you’re alright dearie?” The nurse asked.

“She’s had a long day,” Draco held my shoulder, giving a tight smile. “It’s her migraine. It throws her off the rest of the day, hence our reason for coming.”

The receptionist smiled kindly and made the call... to my dad. Draco and I waited for a while in the lobby, near a fake Ficus that had no hope to flourish in the florescent lighting. He held my hand the entire time and let me lean on him for comfort and strength. I didn’t doubt that he could feel anxiety rolling off me in waves. Merlin, I wish I had a potion or two on me! It would allow me to think straight even for a moment.

“Is that my little sunshine?” The voice made me jump out of my skin and turn.

“Papa?” I gasped and broke free from Draco’s grasp and ran into my father’s arms, tears stinging my eyes.

“Hey there pumpkin,” My dad chuckled. “You haven’t called me that since you were two... you feeling alright sunshine?”

I drew away, staring... memorizing him. Photos didn’t do the kindness in his eyes any justice. And the warmth of his hold was intoxicating. It was everything I ever wanted.

“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” I whispered without thinking.

“Of course, it is,” He smiled, petting my hair softly. “Everything is going to be just fine,” 

“Dad?” I asked. He looked at me expectant. “I love you,”

“I love you too, sunshine,” His smile reached and lit up his eyes. “Now let’s get you home. You’ve had a long day,” He looked over my shoulder, to Draco. “Thank you, son, for taking care of her,”

The look in Draco’s eyes told me how much those few words meant to him, and how much Draco remembered.

“Hang on, dad,” I paused taking a step toward Draco.

It was a choice before me. Draco and a life of magic and danger and true love and battles between good and evil. Or my father and the chance at a normal, magic free life at a muggle school with no danger or fears that Draco could be a part of... that my dad could be a part of. The gravity of the situation made me reach to my locket for comfort but was met with the tangled waves of my long hair.

“This isn’t right,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t make me choose,” 

“Let’s go home, sunshine,” My dad spoke as if I hadn’t. As if I weren’t crying. I looked back at him one last time.

“I’m sorry,” I was really crying now. “But this isn’t my home. I love you, dad,”

Tears blurred my vision, but I felt Draco stand firm and ready beside me. My hand reached for a wand that wasn’t there.

“You couldn’t just be happy?” A voice echoed in the now vacant office. Draco hovering beside me, my breath quickened. “I tried to give you everything! A happy ending! Couldn’t you just be happy!?”

“...Mother?” I blinked rapidly, clearing my tears. “What did you do!?” I shouted at no one, at the disembodied voice.

“Just once, couldn’t you be happy? And play your part?” She materialized in front of us. “You could have been happy, my darling,”

“This?” I gestured around me at the white sterile scene and florescent lighting. I glanced up at Draco. “I’m not happy if I’m not where I belong,”

“In the middle of a war?” My mother sounded desperate. “As the leader of all of Hogwarts? In danger!? Fatherless!?” I flinched at that.

“With Draco,” I took his hand in mine. “And my friends. And... Abby.” I gasped, suddenly recalling. “And...”

“Pansy,” Draco breathed out, struggling to form more of the memory. 

“We have to go back,” There was no denying that. “This isn’t right,”

“If you want them, they can be here too. Anything you want.” She was desperate to make me stay, “You could be happy here. Walt... Your father could be here, no one could hurt you,” There were tears in her eyes. “You’d be safe,”

“I want to go home,” I choked out.

The world changed around me, and I felt a weight off my shoulders. Quite literally. My hair was short and cropped again, and a familiar weight hung around my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers over my locket.

“It isn’t safe, but it is good,” I murmured.

.

masterlist

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more like this:

hufflepuff series

the serpent beneath

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[ikingsley]

Ina x MC: My Star

Ina x MC: My Star

Summary: Ina and Luna take their relationship to the next level.

Warnings: Fluff! So much fluff.

Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1​ @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @kaitlynliaofanxx (Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)​

Author’s Notes: Events after the gala in QB Ch 16. Unfortunately, I have been busy with school and work, but I’ve still been writing. I’ve been working on a new series, one that tells about Ina and Luna’s future together. Here’s the start to their future relationship.

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May 3 @5:42 PM

Ina: Hey. I have a little something for you. Do you want to swing by my place and pick it up? Maybe stay for dinner too?

Luna picked up her phone, reading the message. They had been together officially for a few months now, but the gala had in a way halted their progress. It’d been a few weeks since Ina and Luna had truly been together for a date. Conversations through texts and FaceTime calls that lasted well into the night did occur frequently, but nothing of the romance the two had grown used to. Neither one knew how to approach the delicate situation they found themselves in. 

Luna: I’ll be there.

Luna walked quickly to her dorm, grabbing a hoodie. She trudged over to Ina’s apartment and waited patiently on the other side of the door. Ina opened it and gave her that million-dollar smile. 

“Hey,” Luna breathed out, her breath hitching after seeing Ina physically after weeks.

“Luna. You’re looking as radiant as ever. Come inside.”

Ina’s glance to the outside world did not go unnoticed. It was if she was searching for someone watching her. Not finding anyone who caught her attention, Ina closed the door and bolted it as she welcomed Luna inside.

“You know, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You finished your first year at Belvoire. I think that deserves some celebration.”

Luna looked around, taking in Ina’s apartment once more. Then she smelled it.  She looked around the kitchen and saw the oven light on.

“Is Ina ‘I-Burned-Pasta’ Kingsley cooking?”

“Well, attempting to. I have some chicken in there.”

“Color me impressed. Does that chicken happen to be for me?”

“No,” Ina chimed in, turning around to attend to her food. “It’s for a twin sister you never knew you had that I also happen to be going out with.”

Luna only rolled her eyes at Ina in reaction, but reached forwards to hug her from behind.

“I missed you,” Luna whispered into Ina’s ear.

Ina spun Luna around and stared intensely into her eyes. “And I, you. Our FaceTimes weren’t enough for me. I don’t know what happens next with my future at Belvoire, but I know I want my future with you.”

Ina pressed a kiss against Luna’s temple. The timer went off and Ina pulled the chicken out of the oven.

“Me too. I-” Luna stopped.

Ina stopped and swiveled around waiting to hear those three words. “I…what?” Ina questioned. And how she longed to hear those words uttered from Luna’s mouth. Ina heard them frequently from Lilian and Charlotte, but she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d heard it from a partner. Excluding Luna, it’d been so long since she’d felt that kind of intimacy.

“I…I wonder what we have to accompany this chicken!” Luna diverted.

“Oh. I forgot to tell you. I have some broccoli in there too. Maybe I have some…wait- this went bad.” Ina dumped the rotten spinach in the trash. “Yeah, only broccoli.”

“That’s perfect.”

Soon, Ina placed a full plate in front of Luna and settled beside her. They took their first bite and surprised was only one way to describe the taste.

“This is uh…interes-” Luna remarked as she politely forced herself to swallow a portion of the food.

“You don’t need to-”

“Thanks.” Luna ejected what was left of the chicken from her mouth like it were a toxin.

“So, pizza?” Ina said and sputtered out the chicken. It was bone dry and there was too much seasoning of all sorts. Too many things had been combined.

“Please. No offense.”

“None taken. It’s the thought that counts, no?”

“You’re improving every time I see you cook, so let’s call it progress,” Luna smiled as she patted Ina’s shoulder. She stood up to grab her phone and order pizza.

Ina sighed and flopped on the couch. She so desperately wanted this night to go well. She herself was nervous. Ina had spent the previous nights tossing and turning. It finally had dawned on her that she was in love with Luna. Ever since she met her she’d slowly been falling more and more under Luna’s spell. Now she was completely enraptured by her. The simple facial features that morphed into an infectious smile. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed at Ina’s horrible jokes and witty banter. The way Luna caressed her face as she swept her into a kiss. Everything had been coming together.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Luna asked while she sat down next to Ina indicating she had just gotten off the phone for pizza delivery.

“Just...contemplating everything surrounding us. I’ve come to understand what’s truly important to me, which ultimately boils down to Lil, Charlotte and you of course. I don’t dislike my job, but maybe this is an opportunity for me to try and search for a more research-based career rather than actively teaching.”

Ina stood up, grabbing a small, elegantly wrapped rectangular box.

“I care for you too, Ina,” Luna smiled. “You so did not wrap this by the way.”

“Hey! I’ve gotten better at gift wrapping.”

“Not this good-”

“Oh hush, you. Open it.”

Luna meticulously pulled off the wrapping. Inside was a small framed poster. The poster had a big circle right in its center with some stars in it.

“Ina, this is beautiful. Is this-?”

“The stars on the day we met.”

“I don’t know what to say, babe. It’s...it’s perfect. I love you. I mean, I love it! Yeah! I love it.”

The silence that followed was highly drawn out. Both - who could talk a mile a minute when they were excited or passionately ranting - were dead silent. Ina replayed the moment in her head over and over. Had she heard right?

Luna was more bewildered with herself. She’d been too used to toxic, quickly-ending high school relationships. But as more time passed since she’d let the cat out of the bag, the more she realized that this somewhat spur-of-the-moment confession had more truth in it than anything she’d ever said before. She did love Ina. She loved the way Ina would tell her about her day, getting particularly loud during both the best and worst parts of the day. She loved the way Ina made her laugh or actually kept up with her nerdy discussions. She loved the way Ina would leave anything she was doing if Luna needed something. She loved the way Ina cared for Luna during her stressful finals and tended to her every need. She loved the way Ina balanced her so well. 

But deep down, Luna was scared. Scared of being hurt again. Scared of loving someone who only loved her if she acted in a certain way. But that someone wasn’t Ina. She’d found more of herself through Ina. And she’d found something she deserved in a relationship - a mutual respect.

“Can I crash here? I’m pretty tired.”

“Yes, but Luna...”

“Good night!”

“Wait-”

Ina’s urgency made Luna swivel around and she finally met Ina’s eyes. They were full of admiration, love, happiness.

“Did you mean it, Luna?”

“Mean...what?”

“You know.”

“Well, words are a tricky thing. After all, there’s a whole branch of anthropology that focuses on linguistics. It’s very complex!”

Ina hummed softly. “Yes, well...good night.” Ina pressed a chaste kiss on Luna’s forehead and Luna began to turn around to the bedroom. “I love you, Lu.”

Again, Luna stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“I love you, Garcia,” she grinned. “Come here.”

Luna ran towards Ina as she swept her in her arms. Luna jumped into Ina pressing her lips against Ina’s. Ina carried Luna’s small frame and paraded her around the apartment, often breaking their kiss with more admissions of love.

“I love you, Ina. With all my heart. You know pieces of my past and so I was scared to say it. I know we haven’t officially been together for long, but what I feel for you, it’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. I am...deeply in love with you, however scary it may seem.”

“Read the caption under the stars, my love.”

Quietly, Luna descended from Ina’s arms and picked up the poster she’d just been gifted. Under the stars was a small quote. 

I love you, what star do you live on? - Conrad Aiken 

Ina Kingsley and Luna Garcia

The Day the Stars Aligned. September 6, 2020 | 4 AM | Dreams Diner, New York 

“I love you so much you big nerd,” Luna beamed and wiped away the tears that began forming at the corner of her eyes. “I love you, Ina Kingsley.”

“Sol.”

“Sun? My name, Luna, means moon in Spanish. But I guess I’m your sun too.”

“You are. By the way, I know that, Lu.” Luna gave her a ‘really? are you sure about that’ look. “I am fluent in Spanish thank you very much! I learned it before English!”

“As did I,” Luna retorted.

“Right, well. My middle name. It’s Sol.”

~

A few months later...

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Ina laughed.

“Honestly, same.”

“What? You basically coerced me into coming!” Ina exclaimed. “I thought we were going to the museum.”

“We will after if you’re up to it. And you would’ve come regardless. You love me too much.”

“Touché.”

“Such a little simp.”

“And?”

“No, nothing,” Luna said quickly. She proceeded to whisper simp once again under her breath.

A strong, tatted man opened the dark curtains, letting the establishment soak in the sunlight.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“We’re here for tattoos!” Luna said happily.

“Yes, well, we are at a tattoo parlor,” Ina retorted.

“Sorry. Don’t mind her. She’s just grumpy all the time.”

Ina made a face at Luna, her brows furrowed in frustration. Just through that look, Luna knew not to pester Ina once more. She gave her a ‘you’re in trouble when we get home’ look.

“You both are willingly getting tattoos?” the man asked. It was definitely more directed towards Ina.

Bashfully, Ina nodded. Never in a million years did she think she’d do this. A tattoo. Jesus Christ. Luna was right. If she pulled out a Merriam-Webster dictionary, she knew she’d find a full page photo of herself next to the word simp - a word they’d specifically added just for her.

“What are you guys looking for? Something small, something big? Something plain, something colorful?”

Who was this man? Dr. Seuss’s son? Ina thought to herself.

“Just something small. Maybe on my hip or something,” Luna answered for the both of them as Ina nodded in agreement.

As fun as this little bonding activity was, both women were professionals. Nothing could be too blatantly obvious. Potentially hypothetically, Ina couldn’t have her students ask her about her new tattoo rather than anthropology.

“Do you guys have any designs you want me to copy?” the man asked as he put on gloves.

“Umm...I didn’t have anything in specific in mind. Maybe her name or something that reminds me of her? A rose maybe?” Luna began rambling as her thoughts took over.

The two women stood aside in silence, pondering what they would get. It was unlike them - they were always prepared for everything.

“Hey, Luna,” Ina turned to face her partner. “Why don’t we get a sun and moon?”

“Aww, Ina,” she smiled.

Goddamn those heart eyes, Ina thought.

“Okay, why don’t you get a moon and I’ll get a sun,” Luna said. “That way I’ll always be reminded of you, and you me.”

“I’d like nothing more, my love.”

And after being called a baby multiple times by Luna and a few blaring yelps - mostly on Ina’s part - they were permanently linked by ink. 

“I love you but I am never ever doing that again, Luna.”

[eretzyisrael]

In the week of Rabbi Sacks zt"l's matzeiva (stonesetting), it is very fitting and a sheer coincidence that his Covenant & Conversation essay on this week's parsha of Nitzavim is entitled 'Defeating Death'.

In the essay, pasted in full below, Rabbi Sacks wrote the following:

"How then do you defeat death? Yes there is an afterlife. Yes there is techiyat hametim, resurrection. But Moses does not focus on these obvious ideas. He tells us something different altogether. You achieve immortality by being part of a covenant – a covenant with eternity itself, that is to say, a covenant with God. When you live your life within a covenant something extraordinary happens. Your parents and grandparents live on in you. You live on in your children and grandchildren. They are part of your life. You are part of theirs."

How true that has proven to be over the past nine months since Rabbi Sacks passed away. The outpouring of love for him, his teachings, and the Judaism he taught and personified has been so moving. 

As we approach Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when we each take stock of our own lives, we can look to his example of what it is to live a life of meaning and purpose and to embrace, and be embraced by, the Shechinah.

On behalf of The Rabbi Sacks Legacy Trust, we thank you for your continued support and wish you and your families a Shana tova u'metukah.

---

DEFYING DEATH (NITZAVIM 5781)

Only now, reaching Nitzavim, can we begin to get a sense of the vast, world-changing project at the heart of the Divine-human encounter that took place in the lifetime of Moses and the birth of Jews/ Israel as a nation.

To understand it, recall the famous remark of Sherlock Holmes. “I draw your attention,” he said to Dr Watson, “to the curious incident of the dog at night.” “But the dog did nothing at night,” said Watson. “That,” said Holmes, “is the curious incident.”[1] Sometimes to know what a book is about you need to focus on what it does not say, not just on what it does.

What is missing from the Torah, almost inexplicably so given the background against which it is set, is a fixation with death. The ancient Egyptians were obsessed with death. Their monumental buildings were an attempt to defy death. The pyramids were giant mausoleums. More precisely, they were portals through which the soul of a deceased pharaoh could ascend to heaven and join the immortals. The most famous Egyptian text that has come down to us is The Book of the Dead. Only the afterlife is real: life is a preparation for death.

There is nothing of this in the Torah, at least not explicitly. Jews believed in Olam HaBa, the World to Come, life after death. They believed in techiyat hametim, the resurrection of the dead.[2] There are six references to it in the second paragraph of the Amidah alone. But not only are these ideas almost completely absent from Tanach. They are absent at the very points where we would expect them.

The book of Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) is an extended lament at human mortality. Havel havalim… hakol havel: Everything is worthless because life is a mere fleeting breath (Ecc 1:2). Why did the author of Ecclesiastes not mention the World to Come and life-after-death? Another example: the book of Job is a sustained protest against the apparent injustice of the world. Why did no one answer Job to say, “You and other innocent people who suffer will be rewarded in the afterlife”? We believe in the afterlife. Why then is it not mentioned – merely hinted at – in the Torah? That is the curious incident.

The simple answer is that obsession with death ultimately devalues life. Why fight against the evils and injustices of the world if this life is only a preparation for the world to come? Ernest Becker in his classic The Denial of Death argues that fear of our own mortality has been one of the driving forces of civilisation.[3] It is what led the ancient world to enslave the masses, turning them into giant labour forces to build monumental buildings that would stand as long as time itself. It led to the ancient cult of the hero, the man who becomes immortal by doing daring deeds on the field of battle. We fear death; we have a love-hate relationship with it. Freud called this thanatos, the death instinct, and said it was one of the two driving forces of life, the other being eros.

Judaism is a sustained protest against this world-view. That is why “No one knows where Moses is buried” (Deut. 34:6) so that his tomb should never become a place of pilgrimage and worship. That is why in place of a pyramid or a temple such as Ramses II built at Abu Simbel, all the Israelites had for almost five centuries until the days of Solomon was the Mishkan, a portable Sanctuary, more like a tent than a temple. That is why, in Judaism, death defiles and why the rite of the Red Heifer was necessary to purify people from contact with it. That is why the holier you are – if you are a Kohen, more so if you are the High Priest – the less you can be in contact or under the same roof as a dead person. God is not in death but in life.

Only against this Egyptian background can we fully sense the drama behind words that have become so familiar to us that we are no longer surprised by them, the great words in which Moses frames the choice for all time:

See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil … I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that you and your children may live. (Deut. 30:15, 19)

Life is good, death is bad. Life is a blessing, death is a curse. These are truisms for us. Why even mention them? Because they were not common ideas in the ancient world. They were revolutionary. They still are.

How then do you defeat death? Yes there is an afterlife. Yes there is techiyat hametim, resurrection. But Moses does not focus on these obvious ideas. He tells us something different altogether. You achieve immortality by being part of a covenant – a covenant with eternity itself, that is to say, a covenant with God.

When you live your life within a covenant something extraordinary happens. Your parents and grandparents live on in you. You live on in your children and grandchildren. They are part of your life. You are part of theirs. That is what Moses meant when he said, near the beginning of this week’s parsha:

It is not with you alone that I am making this covenant and oath, but with whoever stands with us here today before the Lord our God as well as those not with us here today. (Deut. 29:13-14)

In Moses’ day that last phrase meant “your children not yet born.” He did not need to include “your parents, no longer alive” because their parents had themselves made a covenant with God forty years before at Mount Sinai. But what Moses meant in a larger sense is that when we renew the covenant, when we dedicate our lives to the faith and way of life of our ancestors, they become immortal in us, as we become immortal in our children.

It is precisely because Judaism focuses on this world, not the next, that it is the most child-centred of all the great religions. They are our immortality. That is what Rachel meant when she said, “Give me children, or else I am like one dead” (Gen. 30:1). It is what Abraham meant when he said, “Lord, God, what will you give me if I remain childless?” (Gen. 15:2). We are not all destined to have children. The Rabbis said that the good we do constitutes our toldot, our posterity. But by honouring the memory of our parents and bringing up children to continue the Jewish story we achieve the one form of immortality that lies this side of the grave, in this world that God pronounced good.

Now consider the two last commands in the Torah, set out in parshat Vayelech, the ones Moses gave at the very end of his life. One is hakhel, the command that the King summon the nation to an assembly every seven years:

At the end of every seven years …  Assemble the people – men, women and children, and the stranger living in your towns – so that they can listen and learn to fear the Lord your God and follow carefully all the words of this law. (Deut. 31:12)

The meaning of this command is simple. Moses is saying: It is not enough that your parents made a covenant with God at Mount Sinai or that you yourselves renewed it with me here on the plains of Moab. The covenant must be perpetually renewed, every seven years, so that it never becomes history. It always remains memory. It never becomes old because every seven years it becomes new again.

And the last command? “Now write down this song and teach it to the Israelites and make them sing it, so that it may be a witness for me against them” (Deut. 31:19). This, according to tradition, is the command to write [at least part of] a Sefer Torah. As Maimonides puts it: “Even if your ancestors have left you a Sefer Torah, nonetheless you are commanded to write one for yourself.”[4]

What is Moses saying in this, his last charge to the people he had led for forty years, was: It is not sufficient to say, our ancestors received the Torah from Moses, or from God. You have to take it and make it new in every generation. You must make the Torah not just your parents’ or grandparents’ faith but your own. If you write it, it will write you. The eternal word of the eternal God is your share in eternity.

We now sense the full force of the drama of these last days of Moses’ life. Moses knew he was about to die, knew he would not cross the Jordan and enter the land he had spent his entire life leading the people toward. Moses, confronting his own mortality, asks us in every generation to confront ours.

Our faith – Moses is telling us – is not like that of the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, or virtually every other civilisation known to history. We do not find God in a realm beyond life – in heaven, or after death, in mystic disengagement from the world or in philosophical contemplation. We find God in life. We find God in (the key words of Devarim) love and joy. To find God, he says in this week’s parsha, you don’t have to climb to heaven or cross the sea (Deut. 30:12-13). God is here. God is now. God is life.

And that life, though it will end one day, in truth does not end. For if you keep the covenant, then your ancestors will live in you, and you will live on in your children (or your disciples or the recipients of your kindness). Every seven years the covenant will become new again. Every generation will write its own Sefer Torah. The gate to eternity is not death: it is life lived in a covenant endlessly renewed, in words engraved on our hearts and the hearts of our children.

And so Moses, the greatest leader we ever had, became immortal. Not by living forever. Not by building a tomb and temple to his glory. We don’t even know where he is buried. The only physical structure he left us was portable because life itself is a journey. He didn’t even become immortal the way Aaron did, by seeing his children become his successors. He became immortal by making us his disciples. And in one of their first recorded utterances, the Rabbis said likewise: Raise up many disciples.

To be a leader, you don’t need a crown or robes of office. All you need to do is to write your chapter in the story, do deeds that heal some of the pain of this world, and act so that others become a little better for having known you. Live so that through you our ancient covenant with God is renewed in the only way that matters: in life. Moses’ last testament to us at the very end of his days, when his mind might so easily have turned to death, was: Choose life.

[1] Arthur Conan Doyle, “The Adventure of Silver Blaze.”

[2] The Mishnah in Sanhedrin 10:1 says that believing that the resurrection of the dead is stated in the Torah is a fundamental part of Jewish faith. However, according to any interpretation, the statement is implicit, not explicit.

[3] New York: Free Press, 1973.

[4] Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Tefillin, Mezuza, VeSefer Torah 7:1.

The Rabbi Sacks Legacy Trust 

[raibebe]

Soft core

Genre: Fluff(?) Words: 11,4 k holy shit this is insane Prompt: Jaehyun in his vampire bdsm outfit he wore in the Punch era but make it sfw Warnings: mentions of blood, brief mentions of member x member relationships, brief descriptions of a panic attack

A/N: This was written for Aimee who loves Jaehyun with her whole heart, happy birthday Aimee 💖 I hope you had an amazing day and like this little something. I know you deactivated but I already started writing this a month ago and I’ll post it anyways in the hope you’ll see this someday and a couple of others will enjoy this as well. I have mixed and matched their outfits and tattoos from both the concept photos and the live stages. Also I’m sorry Johnny, but you fit the role of the shameless flirt so well… Bonus points for anyone who spots all cameos. Special thanks to @burtonized​ who made me keep going with this and listened to all my complaints.

To say you were nervous before starting your first shift at your new job in a reasonably shady bar not too far from your apartment was an understatement. You seriously questioned your own sanity and why you had even applied for the job when you had seen the offer on the beat up wooden entrance door next to an old motorcycle license plate and a bright green neon sign that illuminated the word ‘open’ a couple of days ago. The blue haired man behind the bar had given you a questioning look after you had entered the bar because you couldn’t have looked any more out of place with your soft sweater between the old wooden interior and the leather the barman and a handful of customers were wearing. It had cost all of your courage and a reminder that you needed to find a job for the weekends to walk up to the bar to ask the barman about the job offer. He had asked you a couple of questions like whether you had already waited tables before, which you had (at a place that was lit far better than this one but how different would it be?). The man who had introduced himself as Kun and honestly seemed like a big softie on the inside despite his serious look (it had to be the intense eyebrows) had agreed to hire you on the spot because he had the offer up for a while and no one had come in to ask about it and he couldn’t keep bullying his apparently very chaotic roommates to keep covering the shifts on the busy weekends anymore.

That’s how you found yourself here, a couple of days later on a Friday night, staring at the wooden door yet again (now missing the job offer and not yet illuminated by the neon sign).You took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the bar, this time not looking as out of place as you had before, wearing black skinny jeans and a simple grey v-neck. Kun looked up from where he was wiping down the counter, shooting you a smile. Today he had styled his hair up, exposing his forehead and was wearing a black button up shirt with a bunch of white details that was missing quiet some buttons at the top. “You actually came,” he grinned, “You can put your jacket and bag into the back room.” He pointed to a door with the label ‘staff only’. “We’re opening in half an hour. I’ll introduce you to the others once they decide to arrive.” Nodding you rushed to put your stuff away. You were pleasantly surprised by how clean it was in the back. The beat up interior from the main room was nowhere to be found. So it really didn’t seem too bad if it was only shabby for aesthetic purposes.

After taking a couple of more deep breaths in front of the mirror in the staff room, you felt as prepared as you would ever be and emerged back into the main room of the bar. Next to Kun behind the counter was now another man, clad in the tightest pair of leather pants you had ever seen and a loose, see through black blouse, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, showing off a variety of piercings in his ears that were reflecting the low light of the neon signs. When both men noticed you, the blonde flashed you a bright smile and quickly wiped his fingers on the towel he had used to dry some glasses and held it out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Ten. Kun told me he had finally found someone willing to help us out on the weekends but he missed to tell me how cute you are. Don’t worry the customers are all nice and if anyone gives you any problems, weird stares or makes inappropriate comments, just tell me immediately and I’ll throw them out,” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the image of this petite man throwing drunken men twice his size out of the bar. “Thank you,” you answered before introducing yourself as well. “Would you please wipe down the tables in the back?” Kun asked, handing you a cloth, “The other waiter should be here any minute, so he can walk you through the process.” “You’re all males working here?” You asked shyly while starting to wipe the tall round tables closest to the bar. “Honey, there’s not many woman brave enough to even set a foot in here even though about eighty percent of our regulars and hundred percent of our staff are big softies hiding behind leather jackets and tattoos,” Ten chirped, disappearing beneath the counter to check the tubes of the beer taps.

Speaking of the other staff, as if on queue the door slammed open to reveal a ridiculously tall man with the biggest brown eyes you had ever seen, his platinum hair swept back from his forehead,  a huge grin plastered on his face. “Yooo, the poster with the job offer is gone, did you finally find someone?” The man all but shouted, excitedly bouncing up and down on his way to the bar, shucking off his leather jacket and carelessly throwing it on one of the bar stools to reveal toned arms and a strong chest straining his short sleeved black shirt. “Xuxi, indoor voice please,” Kun groaned, massaging his temples. “Oh sorry,” the other man - Xuxi - answered, flashing Kun big puppy eyes. “We did find someone, please don’t scare her off,” Ten answered Xuxi’s initial question, emerging back from under the counter, smashing the door shut, which caused Kun to groan again. “That thing has a handle for a reason,” he sighed. “It keeps opening itself back up otherwise,” the smaller man shrugged, leaning against the now spotless counter, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Wait, her?” Xuxi asked, eyes wide in either excitement or amazement, “As in she? A girl?” “Yes, hello,” you quietly introduced yourself, stepping out from the corner where you had been cleaning the tabletops.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Xuxi said instead of a proper introduction when you walked over to where the three men were standing. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, tinting them a rosy color. Sighing, Kun took the dirty cloth from you and rinsed it in the sink. “This is Xuxi, the other waiter for tonight. As you might have noticed he doesn’t have much of a filter, but i swear he is harmless.” “Just call me Lucas at work, it’s easier,” the man in question grinned, not even bothering to correct Kun and extended a hand for you to shake (needless to say because he was unnecessary tall, his huge hand could almost cover your whole fist). “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he beamed and even though he had just called you cute, he was definitely the cutest person currently in this room. “Thank you,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips because Xuxi’s grin was really infectious and you felt your anxiety disappearing.

In the remaining time before the bar would officially open, Xuxi taught you everything you needed to know. From their system and how you’d take the orders and which tables you would serve to special drinks that weren’t on the menu and what to do if any customers would give you trouble. “There’s probably not much to do for the first two hours or so”, Xuxi concluded, running a hand through his platinum blonde hair, making his muscles dance beneath his shirt, “Like that you can get used to it before it gets packed. Fridays are always busy and there’s a bunch of different people coming. Did any regulars call in before?” He asked the last question to the general direction of the bar. Flipping through a book next to the cash register, Ten nodded. “127 are coming in, they got that big table in the back but other than that, no one called.” “What’s 127?” You asked curiously because that was one of the tables you were supposed to serve. “They’re a group of guys our age, but I’m not really sure what exactly they are to be honest,” Xuxi laughed while fixing the belt that held his wallet before handing you your own one. “I think they are bikers,” Ten supplied, turning around to reorganizing the bottles behind the bar for the third time tonight, “At least some of them have bikes and they sure look the part. Have you seen Johnny’s new tattoo the other week, Xuxi? That must have hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I saw the post with his chestpiece on his Instagram. That man is ripped.” “Well, you’re one to talk,” you murmured under your breath, organizing the contents of the belt to your liking. Laughing out loud, Ten slapped Kun on the chest. “We need to keep her, I like her,” he giggled and Kun just shot you a slightly pained smile, rubbing where Ten’s hand had come down. “Oh come on, old man. I didn’t even hit that hard.” “Stop calling me old, I am literally just two months older than you,” Kun groaned, softly shaking a grinning Ten. Unbothered by the bickering of the two barmen, Xuxi called over from the door: “I’ll switch on the sign!”

Your anxiety came back at full force when the bar started to fill up one hour after it opened. Resisting the urge to hide behind the bar, you approached yet another group of shady looking men to take their orders. Like the other people you had served before, they gave you a weird look while looking up and down your frame once before asking if you were new here. You just nodded and smiled politely while writing down their orders before walking back to the bar where you took out one of the trays and put the note with the order on top so Ten or Kun could put the according drinks on top. “Here, have a little drink, the night is just beginning,” Ten grinned and pushed a glass into your hands before completing the order while somehow also dancing fluently to the music that was playing through the speakers now. You eyed the drink suspiciously, the deep orange color throwing you off a bit. “It’s not spiked, no need to worry,” Xuxi told you, suddenly appearing next to you, placing his own tray with empty glasses onto the counter, winking teasingly before grabbing a colorful bottle to pour a bunch of shots, so Ten and Kun could focus on the other, more complicated drinks on the orders. You drowned the sickly sweet drink quickly and put the glass next to the ones that needed to be rinsed. You mouthed Ten a ‘thank you’ when you picked up your order and he blew you an exaggerated kiss, making you giggle and feel a little more at ease. It was like he had known you were being nervous again.

After checking in with your other tables and earning a big tip from some truckers that actually had been really nice, you made your way back to the bar to help Kun with rinsing the glasses that had been piling up. “You remember those regulars that were coming in tonight?” the blue haired barman suddenly asked, “That’s them.” He nodded towards the door where a group of men were coming in. For a moment, your breath got caught in your throat because Ten hadn’t been wrong earlier when he said that those 127 guys looked like bikers. Honestly anyone of them could have been a model for the leather clothes they were wearing while standing in front of a Harley Davidson or thrashing something with a baseball bat. (Also was one of them wearing a metal harness beneath his leather vest?) “They’re all nice people, no need to worry,” Kun calmed you down, shooting you a reassuring smile before taking the beer glass from your hands that you had started to grip so hard, your knuckles were turning white. “How many are they?” You asked him curiously while eyeing the group as they made their way over to their designated table, greeting other regulars as well as Lucas (one of them was apparently just as incapable of having an indoor voice as him when he loudly yelled ‘Lucas’ before hugging the taller male tightly).

“Yooo, Johnny’s chestpiece looks even more sick in real life,” Lucas said with wide eyes when he came back to the bar. “Also he gave me 20 dollar so I would ask Haechan and Mark if they were even legal when they would order something alcoholic,” he grinned, “I’ll share if you do it.” “How am I supposed to know who to ask?” You asked because even though you were shy, 20 dollars were 20 dollars. “That’s the spirit,” Lucas grinned and threw an arm around your shoulders to turn you in the direction of the table where the men had sat down, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You see the one with the purple hair sitting next to the tall one with half his chest exposed? The purple haired one is Haechan and the tall one is Johnny. Mark is the one on the stool to the left, just ask Haechan for his age first, Mark will be the one to laugh the loudest,” he quickly explained. “You know them quite well,” you said, trying to fight the heat spreading across your cheeks because it didn’t happen any day that you were in such a close proximity to a handsome man like Lucas. “I went to school with Mark,” he shrugged, letting you go when Kun yelled that his order was ready.

Before walking up to their table you took another deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart, repeating in your head how no one had been mean to you yet and that all your coworkers kept on telling you how nice they were supposed to be. “Hi everyone,” you greeted them when you arrived at the table, “Have you already decided what you want to order?” Seeing the chaos that the group was already in, half of them probably didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the table. “Guys!” The pink haired man wearing the harness type thing scolded the others that were bickering in the back of the little booth on the couch. “I’m sorry, they usually behave better,” he smiled and his big eyes combined with his pink hair made him look like he came straight out of an animation. “I’m Taeyong by the way,” the pink haired man supplied, flashing you a genuine smile, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Today is my first day,” you nodded, cheeks heating up under the gaze of the handsome man, nervously playing with your little notepad. “Let’s order, guys!” Taeyong said, the others slowly turning their attention towards you. How all of them were this handsome was beyond your imagination. Shyly you introduced yourself as their waiter for the night for the second time and asked for their orders. One after the other they either ordered plain beer or some really extraordinary cocktails that you had never heard of before. When the purple haired boy, Haechan, ordered his cocktail, you took a deep breath before putting on your best poker face. “Could I see your ID to check your age first?”

As soon as the words had left your lips, the whole table fell dead silent and the boy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But before you could lose your courage to mutter an apology, the boy that had greeted Lucas loudly before, burst out in laughter, that the others minus Haechan quickly joined and even you couldn’t hold back the grin that spread over your face. “Now that I think about it, could I see yours as well?” You followed up and asked the dark haired boy with the infectious laugh, whose eyes immediately turned into saucers, his mouth wide open while the others couldn’t hold their laughs anymore, the purple haired boy joining in now. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, turning to the last man to order when they all had calmed down, using the napkins on the table to exaggeratedly wipe their tears. “What can I get you?” When the man with the dark hair that was elegantly swept back from his face turned towards you, you could swear that time stilled for a moment. His dark eyes that were accentuated with a bit of eyeshadow fixed yours and you were captivated, unable to look away. When your eyes dipped lower for a second you could see the black ink of a tattoo on the pale skin of his neck. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite tell why. Maybe you had seen him around on campus. But even then you should have been able to tell because that tattoo really wasn’t subtle at all. Briefly you were wondering if he could ever work a normal job with something like that. “I think I’ll just start with a beer as well,” he spoke softly, his voice a deep rumble, tearing you from your thoughts. After you had definitely stared at him for way too long than it would have been acceptable, you tore your gaze away from him, quickly scribbling down his order as well, repeating what you had written down for the others to confirm.

“Great, then I’ll be back in a bit with your drinks,” you smiled, after one of them had insisted that they should get a round of shots as well. “Can’t wait,” the tall one with the eagle tattoo on his chest said with a smirk on his lips, adding a cheesy wink that made you way more flustered than you would have liked. You quickly turned to hide your heated face, speed walking back over to the bar to put their order down. “Did you do it?” Lucas eagerly asked, bouncing up and down in excitement where he was helping to dry some glasses behind the counter. “Where’s my money?” You grinned, holding out your palm towards him. “Waaa, you really did it,” he grinned while bouncing up and down excitedly and you could barely hold in the urge to coo at him. He really did resemble an oversized puppy. You barely knew him for more than a couple of hours but he already had wiggled his way into your heart.

“Lucas, you didn’t tell us such a pretty girl would be serving us tonight,” a smooth male voice suddenly interrupted. When you turned around, the tall man from the 127 gang (Were they a gang? Did they do illegal stuff?) came walking up to the counter, leaning against the polished wood. “She’s new here, I didn’t know either,” Lucas pouted, already grabbing two shot glasses to put up on the bar top, putting the third one back down when you shook your head. You weren’t going to drink on your first day of work even though it seemed to be normal when you watched Lucas fill up the two glasses with a shady looking liquid from an unlabeled bottle he had grabbed from below the counter. Clinking their glasses together both men drowned their shots and while the tall biker didn’t even flinch, Lucas broke out into a whole body shiver, squeezing his eyes shut. “This stuff is really fucking disgusting,” he grimaced before refilling one of the shot glasses again, shoving it in front of the other man again, “I don’t know how Ten manages to make these concoctions.” Grinning, the man in question suddenly appeared and snatched the shot glass from below the other‘s fingers, drowning it himself. The blonde only grimaced a little. “I gotta say, I’ve made better stuff but also definitely worse. Lucas, we need a new keg of beer, can you please get one from the back, you’re so much stronger than I am,” Ten pouted, batting his lashes at Lucas and rubbing one of his hands over the other’s muscled arms. “Be nice to her,” Lucas told the man with the big tattoo on his chest and quickly disappeared to the back.

“I’m Johnny by the way,” he introduced himself, running a hand through his dark red hair. “So you’re the one who asked Lucas to embarrass your friends,” you remembered, your eyes getting caught on the intricate feathers of the eagle that spread its wings over Johnny’s broad chest. He smirked when your eyes came back up to meet his. “That would be me. You like the tattoo?” “It looks nice,” you mumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring, “It’s not something you see every day.” “I have some other ones that are pretty interesting as well,” he winked. “Su-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up for what must have been the millionth time this night. “You’re cute,” Johnny laughed, the sound bright and inviting, his eyes turning into little crescents. “What did you come over for? Did I miss something on the order?” You tried to move the conversation in a direction you were a little (a lot) more comfortable with. “I just thought I could put my muscles to use and help you carry our drinks, we ordered quite a lot. Also I still owe you money for pulling that prank on Mark and Haechan. Even though their faces were priceless.” “How old are they anyways?” You asked him because you didn’t actually ended up looking at their IDs and Haechan especially did seem quite young. Digging out his worn out wallet, Johnny fished out a twenty dollar bill and teasingly held it up between two fingers. “They’re both of age, don’t worry, they just have baby faces.”

Snatching the bill from his hands, you quickly stuffed it in your pocket. “Thank you,” you grinned, relieved that it really had just been a prank between friends. “How old are you then?” You heard yourself asking after you had glanced at the tray that Ten had been filling up, but a couple of glasses were still missing. The weird cocktails seemed to take quite some time to make (Why there was celery swimming in what looked like tomato juice was a mystery to you). “Let’s pretend I’m in my early twenties,” Johnny grinned, his long fingers playing with the cherries that were stuck to the rim of one of the cocktail glasses. “Pretend?” You were confused. He couldn’t be much older than you were. “It’s improper for old men like me to flirt with such pretty young girls after all,” he winked and stuck out his tongue. “You… You can’t be much older than me though,” you argued, trying to fight your shyness back down. But your furiously beating heart was betraying you. Luckily he couldn’t notice that from his place where he was still leaning against the counter, the long line of his body perfectly shown off; his legs seemed almost endlessly long in the heavy leather pants. Chuckling, he raked his eyes across your body in a similar way you must have seconds ago but you felt like you were burning up wherever he was looking. Within the blink of an eye he was in your personal space, crowding you against the bar. “I’m 25,” he breathed, “How long do you have to work today, honey?”

Before you could even think of an answer, Johnny was shoved backwards by another man dressed completely in black. You recognized him as one of the men from Johnny’s gang, the one with the neck tattoo that had seemed weirdly familiar to you. “Leave her alone, Johnny,” he drawled, his voice barely more than a growl, “There’s someone waiting for you outside.” After a moment of heavy eye contact between the two males, Johnny scoffed and threw you another smile. “See you later, darling,” he chirped before turning towards the exit. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes,” the handsome man spoke, his voice still deep but way less threatening. “It’s… It’s fine you wouldn’t have needed to step in like that,” you reassured him, “But thank you.” “Yeah, I don’t know, something just didn’t sit right with me when he crowded you like that. Especially when you’re new to this type of environment, it’s pretty different from your usual job.” “My usual job?” You asked, clearly confused, “Do we know each other?” “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you had recognized me,” the man’s eyes widened in surprise and he averted his gaze as if he was embarrassed. “I’m Jaehyun. You know, the dude who keeps killing his plants.” Now it was your turn to be surprised. “No way. You look so different.” “It’s the clothes, right?” Jaehyun was rubbing the intricate lines of ink on his neck, looking up from between his dark lashes, smiling shyly and now that his dimples were almost showing, you did finally recognize him.

He was somewhat of a regular customer at the flower shop you worked in during the week to help out the old lady who owned the shop, always coming in to buy new plants when he had managed to kill yet another one. Now in the heavy leather jacket with more buckles and straps than you could count, he looked so different than when he came to the shop, his dark hair fluffy so his bangs almost covered his eyes and wearing soft sweaters and jeans. You also somehow had never noticed the big tattoo that stretched around his neck.

You could remember the first time he came into the shop very vividly. It was just after your break that you had spent lazing around in the backyard of the shop in front of the little greenhouse, letting the sun shine onto your face, just basking in the moment for a bit, letting all your worries about money or upcoming exams melt away. The job at the little flower job didn’t pay very well because people these days bought less and less flowers and the old lady couldn’t afford to pay more but you couldn’t just leave her alone in the shop. You really enjoyed her presence and learning about the language of flowers and how to bind pretty bouquets. When the distant chirping of the old cuckoo clock in the shop announced the end of your break, you got up from your place and put your apron back on, so you wouldn’t accidentally dirty your clothes. You came back into the shop just in time to see the big load of new plants that was being delivered. Two boys were unloading a colorful truck while continuously bickering in what seemed to be Chinese about where to put the plants in the shop and on the sidewalk outside so people could still walk past. “Urgh, this sucks why did we let us get talked into helping out?” The one with green hair sighed after they had put the last plant down, handing the old lady the papers she had to sign that the shipment had arrived at her place. She chuckled while handing the papers back. “I’ve made some iced tea, have a little break, boys,” she smiled her kind, wrinkled smile at them, taking them to the little kitchen area in the back to pour each one of them a glass even though the smaller of them had declined her offer at least ten times while his green haired friend gladly took her invitation.

Smiling you reassured the old lady that you would rearrange the flowers and plants so you could fit them all into the shop and the small greenhouse in the back. Maybe her grandson would come in later to help you move the heavier plants. He always came to the shop to laze around without having his parents scold him and his grandmother could never say no to his charming smile that made any girl his age swoon. He had recently dyed his hair a soft pinkish shade and had been hanging around the shop a lot more because his parents weren’t quite fond of his style choices. You gently stroked the leaves of the little pink rose bushes (that had kind of reminded you of the boy in the first place) that seemed rather thirsty to you, making a mental note to water them lots after you had arranged them.

While rearranging the cut roses so you could fit the new bushes in between them, the little bell on the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. “I’ll be right over,” you said, detangling yourself from the bush you had tried to fit in the display window. “No need to hurry,” the customer answered with a deep voice. It wasn’t often that men visited your store. And most times they just wanted a quick, expensive looking bouquet to either impress a girl or to apologize to their wife. Putting on your best customer friendly smile, you walked over to where the man was eyeing some cherry tree bonsais, his broad back turned towards you. “How can I help you?” When the man turned around, he immediately politely smiled at you, making your heart beat pick up just a little. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. His dark hair was unstyled and hung into his eyes a bit, covering his strong eyebrows that every girl would be envious over. He seemed young, about your age. The pale blue hoodie and the fluffy hair made him seem very soft and gentle despite his strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. “Well I’ve moved into a new space and it looks a little empty, so I thought some plants might be the way to fix that,” he explained, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized hoodie. “That’s a great idea,” you beamed, trying to seem reassuring since he seemed rather nervous, “Do you have anything special in mind?” “No, I really don’t but those roses you just put in the display window look very pretty, it’s what made me come in,” he said, motioning to where you had been fighting with the roses earlier. “Roses need a lot of attention though,” you warned him, walking over to where you had tucked the little bushes into a corner. “I have a lot of time and like a good challenge,” he answered, a grin tugging at his lips, a set of dimples just barely showing, “You’re bleeding by the way.” He added, gently touching your hand. Startled, you jerked away, heat licking at your cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “But you should bandage that or it might get infected if something gets into the wound.” “Don’t worry, it’s not even that deep,” you concluded after examining the small cut on the back of your hand where you had lost the battle with one of the thorns. You quickly shot the man another smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“So do any of those roses look good to you?” “The pale orange ones look nice.” You couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “What’s so funny?” He asked, his beautiful brows drawn together in confusion. “The color is called peach,” you still giggled, grabbing the pot to show him the petals in the sunlight. “Well it is orange though,” he shrugged. “Men and colors,” you sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips, “You like them and want to try caring for them?” “Yeah, let’s try it. Anything I should look out for?” While walking up to the cash register and ringing him up, you briefly explained how to take care of the roses the best.

“I hope they brighten up your room a bit,” you smiled when he had paid. “The visit sure brightened up my day,” he replied smiling widely, the set of cute dimples reappearing on his cheeks. Before you could overcome your sudden shyness to reply anything, he had already wished you a good day and disappeared from the shop.  

After his visit, the man had crept back into your mind a couple of times. Every time you watered the little twin of the rose bush he had bought, it somehow reminded you of his sweet dimpled smile and his deep, soothing voice. You always scolded yourself when you noticed how you were spacing out, in fact watering the floor instead of the little rose bushes how you were supposed to. (You had been made fun of by a certain pink haired boy one too many times lately.) Your boss had just smiled knowingly and pressed a little bouquet with beautiful yellow Chrysanthemums in the middle, when you had closed up the shop, making your face heat up and furiously deny everything. But like always, the old lady knew you probably better than you knew yourself.

The second time the handsome stranger had visited the shop, he had been wearing a white turtle neck and a simple denim jacket, his hair pushed back with a dark blue hat. “Hello again,” he greeted you, gently smiling when he walked up to the counter where you were currently binding a bouquet with a couple of big purple hyacinths, “I’ll have a little look around. No need to hurry that.” Even though you tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in the bouquet and picking smaller flowers that would look good with the big center piece, you kept glancing over to the man who was sniffing different flowers, quietly sneezing when he inhaled too deeply.

“Those are really pretty,” he said after he had not so subtly watched you work for a while from his place between the brightly colored geraniums while walking up to the counter. “The man who commissioned them paid a lot of money for them to look pretty,” you smiled, gently tucking smaller white flowers all around the big purple ones in the middle. “Does it mean anything? I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” he asked, seeming genuinely interested. “You’re interested in the language of flowers?” You asked, securely tying the bouquet together, placing them in a vase for the time being. “What languages would flowers speak?” The man asked, sounding genuinely confused. For a moment you could just stare at him, his dark brown eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, before you burst out in a fit of giggles. “Hey! What’s so funny?” He asked, trying to sound offended but he couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. “They don’t speak any language, silly. The different types of flowers mean different things. I don’t know all of it but the owner of the shop has been teaching me some of it,” you explained to him. “Ooh, that makes a lot more sense,” he nodded, “What do those mean then?” “They’re hyacinths. The man told me he needed to apologize to his girlfriend. The purple ones stand for sorrow. I doubt she will notice though.” “Probably not,” he chuckled. “What did the rose mean I bought last time? The peach one?” “I’m not quite sure, I’ll ask my boss when she’s back. What brings you back here?” “Well,” he scratched the back of his head and averted his eyes, “I need a new plant, the rose was  kind of a lot more work than I thought it was.”

“Oh no.” You felt genuinely sad. You kind of had expected it not to go well but this was honestly a lot faster than you could have imagined. “I should have listened to you when you told me that they were a lot, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “But I really want to try to keep a plant alive. She looked really good for the time she was alive.” “She?” “Well I gave her a name.” You giggled again. “That’s really cute.” “Not as cute as you though.” It was suddenly so silent in the shop, the only noise the soft buzzing sound coming from the air-conditioning. You stared into the man’s eyes, expecting a his face to heat up in a similar fashion yours was, to see a blush creep up his face or his ears, but his face stayed perfectly pale, not a single blotch of color visible. But he had to be embarrassed as well if the way he was chewing on his lips was any sign. “I’m sorry, that just slipped,” he mumbled. “I… Shouldn’t you at least tell me your name before you start complimenting me like that?” You stuttered when you found your voice again. “Jaehyun,” he supplied, still awkwardly shuffling around, “It’s Jaehyun.” “Alright Jaehyun, let’s find you a new plant that’s not as easy to kill.

From that day onward Jaehyun came to the shop somewhat regularly, either announcing the death of yet another plant or telling you how they were on the brink of death and he didn’t know how it happened or what to do to save them. You were really close to either tell him to stick to bouquets or cacti but when you were being honest, you enjoyed his little visits. He’d stay longer and longer every time, telling you little stories about how he suspected that his roommates were secretly killing all the plants. In turn you told him about your boring life between your classes and your job. And sometimes you even taught him about the language of flowers while he was watching you put together a bouquet for yet another desperate boyfriend.

One visit in particular had stuck with you for some reason. Your whole day had just been bad: One of your professors had caught you slacking off in class and called you out in front of everyone, then at lunch a guy had run into you, making you drop half your food on the floor and then it had started to rain on your way to work. And if that wasn’t enough, the old lady hadn’t been feeling well because of the sudden change in weather and you had sent her off into her apartment that was above the shop, so she could rest. So now you were just alone in the shop, watching the people outside hurry past the shop with their umbrellas. When it was raining even less people were coming into the shop because you couldn’t put any plants outside that often lured people in. Sighing, you continued with the inventory that you had started out of boredom. Of course you also hadn’t brought any useful books, so you could have studied a little.

You must have been deep in thought, moping about how much this day sucked, that you didn’t hear the little bell on the door ringing. So when someone touched your arm to get your attention, you of course were startled and let out a small scream before you lost your balance on the stepladder that you had used to count the spare pots on a higher shelf. And if that wasn’t enough, you also pushed one of said pots down as well. But before you could even brace yourself for the fall, a strong arm had wrapped around you, saving you from crashing down onto the floor and possibly cracking your head open. When you opened your eyes, that you had screwed shut, you saw straight into Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes that were full of concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he spoke softly and you could feel how his voice rumbled in his chest from how close he was holding you to his body. “It’s alright, it’s my fault anyways. I wasn’t paying attention,” you sighed, slowly realizing in what kind of situation you and Jaehyun were in right now. His face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single one of his long, dark eyelashes. You could even see the faintest little blush spreading over his cheeks and your own face immediately felt hot as well.

Jaehyun just smiled and released you from his grip, gently setting the pot he somehow had managed to catch with his other hand back onto the shelf. He really must have incredible reflexes and obviously the most charming smile you had ever seen. “Don’t blame yourself, you don’t look too good today,” he spoke softly. “Wow thanks,” you sarcastically said, sighing theatrically while running your hands through your hair in an attempt to smooth it out, but probably messing it up further than it already was. “Hard day?” You snorted. Hard was an understatement. It sucked. But a little voice in the back of your head whispered that now that Jaehyun had come to visit you in the shop, it would get better. “You look like you could use a hug,” he smiled and opened his arms invitingly.

Before you could even think twice about it, you wound your arms around his middle and squeezed him tightly, burying your face in the soft fabric of his cardigan that he wore over one of his many turtlenecks. Chuckling, he grabbed the fabric and stretched it around you, so you were basically wrapped up in it against his chest, before wrapping you up in his strong arms. You were drowning in his by now familiar scent and the way his chest steadily rose and fell with his breath made all stress from your body slowly dissolve. “If you keep holding me like this I will cry,” you mumbled, trying to untangle yourself from him. “I don’t mind, you know? Sometimes you just have to cry to let all the stress out,” he assured you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Don’t say that, I will ugly cry in your shirt,” you hiccupped, “I barely know you.” “Oh I think you know me a lot better than a lot of people,” he smiled, “It’s an old shirt anyways.” “Liar, I’ve never seen you wear this before.” “You’re keeping track?” He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant by that,” you mumbled, feeling shy suddenly because how could you not keep track when he just effortlessly looked infuriatingly good every time he walked into the shop.

“You feeling better now?” Jaehyun gently asked after you two had fallen silent, just basking in each other’s presence. He gently tilted your head back from where you had buried it in his neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah,” you breathed, captivated by him. You had never noticed the tiny mole he had on one of his cheeks but you found it really endearing.   “Good,” he smiled, “I brought you coffee from the shop next door.” He motioned to the two cups he had placed on the counter next to the cash register. “You have a heart of gold Jaehyun,” you confessed, a smile slowly spreading on your lips and your heartbeat picking up. You kept the thought that he probably would also make the perfect boyfriend, to yourself. Not that it would matter, you were sure he didn’t see you like that. He just played it off, laughing awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. (Coming to think of it, you really seemed to know him better than you had initially thought.) “Let’s drink it before it gets cold and you can tell me more about your day,” he offered and slowly loosened his arms around you. “Can you tell me about yours instead?” You asked with a small voice. “I’d rather forget all of this stupid day before you walked in here.” “Of course, darling,” he breathed. Your heart skipped a beat before doubling its pace when the pet name rolled of his tongue just like that. Maybe there was just the slightest little chance, he might consider you more than just the friend that worked in the flower shop that he had to visit to get advice on how to not kill his plants. Smiling you loosened your grip on him as well and you two sat down on the counter, dangling your legs and sipping the slightly cold coffee while you listened to Jaehyun ramble about the mess that were his flatmates. Until this day you hadn’t figured out how many people he actually lived with but you couldn’t help but smile at the little stories he told you. And even when he stopped talking, you just enjoyed the silence while watching the people outside. And maybe it was just your imagination but the umbrellas outside seemed just a little brighter with your head resting on Jaehyun’s broad shoulder.

“I’ve never noticed your whole tattoo thing that’s going on,” you said, motioning around your own neck when you came back from your fond memories of Jaehyun. “Yeah, I try to not let it show as much usually,” he replied, almost nervously playing with the collar of his leather jacket.   “Did it hurt a lot when you got it?” “Yeah, the skin is kind of tender around your neck,” he answered, his gaze not meeting your eyes but fixating a point right behind you. “You get that question a lot don’t you?” you gently asked, fingers itching to reach out to touch him. “Yeah, it’s all people talk about when they see it,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it by now.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “It’s fine,” Jaehyun reassured you, gently grazing his fingers over your exposed forearm, making goose bumps break out over your skin. “Yes, it did hurt. No I don’t regret it. Yes I probably can’t work a normal job if I’m not wearing a turtleneck. No, I didn’t get it in prison. It was done in a perfectly sanitary tattoo shop by a professional artist. No, I’m not a criminal”, he quickly addressed every typical question he apparently got about the tattoo in a single breath, a smile spreading on his lips, making his dimples appear and your heart beat faster.

“Glad to know I haven’t been talking to a criminal over the past few weeks even though you did kill an unholy amount of plants,” you giggled, checking again if the order was ready only to find Ten engrossed in a conversation with a group of young men that were sitting at the bar, his work forgotten. “Well I guess I am guilty of that,” Jaehyun pouted and it was weirdly endearing seeing him act playful like that with his dark and intimidating clothing. “So you’re not a criminal but a biker?” “Is that what you think our group is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “That’s what everyone told me at least. And you do look the part.” “A couple of us do have bikes, but I don’t think that justifies the title. We’re just a,” he bit his tongue for a bit, “We’re just friends. Friends who like to dress in a lot of leather and black clothing.”

It seemed to be a somewhat touchy subject so you decided to not push any further. “You don’t need to explain it to me,” you smiled reassuringly, quickly squeezing his cold hand. “Jaehyun, stop flirting with my best waitress,” Kun teased, adding the little shot glasses to the second tray that completed the order. “I wasn’t flirting, I-“ but Jaehyun didn’t complete his apology when Kun shot him a knowing look and your face heated up on his behalf because Jaehyun didn’t blush like ever. “Stop making excuses and help her carry all this back to the table,” the barman grinned, returning to his work by pulling Ten back by the hairs on his neck from where he was still talking to the handsome customers sitting at the bar. “I would appreciate some help, that’s what Johnny came over for as well,” you tried to push past the awkwardness. “Like hell he was,” Jaehyun grumbled, grabbing the one of the trays maybe a tad too forceful than he needed to, the drinks almost spilling over. “Don’t be angry with him, he was being nice,” you consoled him, gently petting his leather clad arm (wasn’t he warm in that thick jacket?). “I saw just how nice he was being,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders, “He’s such a goddamn flirt.” “Nothing happened Jaehyun,” you tried one last time, looking into his dark eyes, getting lost in the seemingly bottomless obsidian.

Only the thud of the heavy entrance door made you snap out of it and you quickly turned to grab the second tray. You hadn’t even noticed how you had gravitated towards Jaehyun, it was like his eyes had hypnotized you. “Need another pair of helping hands?” A familiar voice asked and Johnny strode over towards you two again, now with an energetic bounce in his step, his red lips curved into a smile. “We’ve got it,” Jaehyun answered, scrunching his nose as if he had smelled something bad before taking a deep breath. “Don’t wait too long, Jaehyun,” the taller said, his tone suddenly stern and his brows furrowed. “I can handle it, Johnny,” Jaehyun gritted out, shoving past the taller man to make his way over to the table where their friends were still waiting for their drinks. Sighing, you followed him back to the table. It was weird how different he was behaving with his friends around. You had never expected to meet him in any place outside of your job at the flower shop and much less in a place like this. The soft man who liked to wear denim jackets seemed to be buried beneath the heavy leather jacket.

“Here’s your drinks,” you smiled when you put the tray down to distribute the drinks. “You’re not drinking with us?” A blonde man with a scratch in his eyebrow asked when everyone had picked up their shot glasses. “It’s my first day, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you politely declined his offer. “I’m sure Ten and Kun won’t mind,” he grinned, lifting up his own glass to hand it over to you. “She said no, didn’t you hear, Yuta?” Jaehyun growled and shot his friend a dark look. Unfazed by his behavior, the blonde - Yuta - shrugged his shoulders before drowning his shot himself, not grimacing in the slightest even though the liquid had a questionable amount of alcohol in it, judging by the numbers that had been printed on the label. “But I’m sure we can treat you to something else,” he spoke, before shifting in his seat so his poorly buttoned sleeveless shirt fell open even further, revealing smooth skin that stretched over lean muscles and a promise of something metal hidden beneath. “I-“, you stuttered. What were you supposed to reply to something like that? “You’re shameless,” one of his dark haired friends chuckled, a silver chain glistening in the light when he shook his head. “It’s called confidence,” Yuta defeated himself. “Still shameless,” another one agreed, a grin on his face. “He hasn’t had a good lay in a while, don’t mind him,” Taeyong cut in, shooting you a reassuring smile. “Certainly not because I didn’t had any offers, I’m just picky,” Yuta tried to defend himself, looking scandalized. You just giggled when the other’s started picking on him. You noticed that Jaehyun didn’t join in but his posture was more relaxed than it had been before. You really wanted to thank him for defending your choice to not drink but now didn’t seem appropriate. Silently you collected the now empty shot glasses and picked the trays back up. “I’ll be back to check in with you later then,” you smiled before walking back to the counter after checking in with a couple of other tables.

The rest of the night went down in a blur safe for the one occasion where the slender Ten indeed threw out one of the customers that couldn’t hold his liquor anymore and had fallen when he had tried to walk over to the bar to order more because Lucas had already refused to bring him any more drinks. The times when you had checked in on the 127 table, Yuta had still flirted with you only to be either shot down by Jaehyun or Taeyong. You had also noticed that over the course of the night one or two of them would always leave the bar for a couple of minutes before coming back inside with a new energy and a faint blush on their cheeks. You didn’t know what they did out there but you really hoped they didn’t do drugs or anything like that. They didn’t seem as intoxicated as the other customers no matter how much they ordered. If anything Mark was getting giggly after he had come back inside but that was pretty much everything. They all must have incredible tolerance for alcohol.

When the night died down and more and more customers were leaving, Kun waved you over to tell you that you had been a great help and he would be more than happy to see you again tomorrow for your next shift. You had beamed at him and promised to do your best. “I’m sure you will. Thank you for today, I think Lucas and I can handle the remaining customers,” he told you. “What’s with Ten?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in a while. Kun just sighed and motioned to the 127 table where Ten comfortably sat on Johnny’s lap, the taller carding through the blonde’s hair that he had freed from the little ponytail. “Are they a thing?” You were confused. Johnny hadn’t been subtle about his flirting earlier. “No one really knows,” Kun groaned, suddenly seeming very irritated, “It’s been happening more lately but last week he went home with Taeyong as far as I remember.” “Oh…” “Don’t think about it too much. I want to say that he knows what he’s doing but that would mean that he’s actually using his brain.” Somehow you thought that he sounded sad. “Just tell Ten that you like him, Kun,” Lucas groaned, running a hand through his by now messy platinum hair. “I don’t like him,” the elder gritted out, violently cleaning glasses and slamming them onto a rack to dry. “Sure and I’ve never thought about making out with any of your roommates,” Lucas teased him. “You have what?” “Never mind I said that,” Lucas mumbled, his ears turning red, before he made a beeline to one of his tables.

You chuckled quietly. “I think he’s fond of you as well,” you softly spoke after Kun had thrown another longing look at Ten who was busy admiring the eagle tattoo on Johnny’s chest. “You don’t need to console me, but I appreciate it,” he smiled but it didn’t quiet reach his eyes, “I came to accept him how he is.” “You should at least try to shoot you shout though, don’t you think?” You tried again, stepping closer to the barman to help him clean the last glasses. He sighed deeply. “I’ve known Ten for too long now, I know he won’t suddenly become monogamous just because I tell him that I might not dislike him as much as I sometimes say.” “You can never know for sure, people do crazy stuff because of love,” a deep voice joined the conversation and Jaehyun sat down on the barstool in front of Kun and you, throwing you a quick smile. “He’s right,” you smiled, briefly squeezing Kun’s hand. “If I say that I’ll think about it, will you leave it alone for now?” You eagerly nodded, looking up at Jaehyun to see if he was doing the same. Instead a smirk played on his lips. “If you give me my drinks for free, I’ll even tell Johnny to not take Ten home tonight,” he grinned, holding up his card between two fingers. “You’re paying for everyone?” Kun just gritted out, snatching the card from the other’s fingers. Jaehyun’s grin widened before he nodded. “Isn’t that going to be a lot of money?” You asked worriedly. You had never asked but assumed Jaehyun must be a student like you, so paying the whole bill for nine men (well eight if Kun was giving Jaehyun his own drinks for free) was a lot. “I lost at rock paper scissors,” he shrugged, “Are you done with your shift?”

“She is,” Kun cut in, smacking the credit card back onto the bartop, “Tell Johnny to send him home, I’m not feeding his cats again because they’re screaming for food.” “Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jaehyun joked, pocketing his card with a grin. Kun didn’t answer, instead leaving you two alone to wipe some empty tables. “Are you going home alone?” “It’s not far from here,” you reassured the dark haired man. “I’ll walk you. You shouldn’t go alone this late.” “Only if it’s not a bother for you…” “Keeping you safe is never a bother for me,” he smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you barely suppressed a shiver from how cold his hands were against your heated face. “I’ll tell the other’s not to wait for me and will wait outside for you,” he softly spoke before turning to walk out the door where his friends apparently had already left.

You quickly gathered your things and sorted out your tips from the rest of the money, putting everything back into the place that Lucas had shown you before disappearing into the staff room to stuff the money into your designated tip jar, so Lucas and you could share your tips with Ten and Kun. While you were quickly trying to fix your hair in the small mirror a very grumpy looking Ten joined you, groaning loudly. You had to suppress your smile. Jaehyun really had convinced Johnny to not take Ten home. “Men are trash, honey,” the blonde suddenly spoke, “Don’t fall for any of them.” “Did you get dumped?” You tried to act like you didn’t exactly knew what must have happened. “Can’t get dumped if you aren’t dating,” Ten chirped, smoothing out a wrinkle in his silky blouse, “But something similar.” “I’m sorry.” “No need to be darling, I’ll just annoy Kun a little more, maybe he’ll actually pop a vein these days,” he giggled mischievously. “Be nice to him, he seems like an actual sweetheart,” you said while slipping on your jacket and picking up your bag. “He is, darling. But where’s the fun in that?” Ten held the door open for you and followed you back to the main room. “Be safe on your way home.” “Jaehyun is waiting outside for me,” you admitted, suddenly feeling shy under Ten’s intense gaze. “So that’s why Johnny wouldn’t take me with him,” he grinned. “No, no that’s not it. He just offered to walk me home,” you stuttered to explain yourself. It wasn’t like what Ten thought it was, right? Oh god. Not that Jaehyun was expecting anything now. He just had asked to walk you home though. Was it a code word for something you didn’t know? “I’m sure he only has the most noble motives,” the barkeeper snickered, “Go, don’t let prince charming wait for too long.” With that he waved you off, walking over to where Kun was wiping a table to drape his body over the other’s back, probably complaining about being dumped. But Kun didn’t seem to mind a whole lot, judging by the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.

After you had barely escaped Xuxi’s suffocating goodbye hug, you stepped outside into the cold night, taking a deep breath. It was quiet for a Friday night but that might have just been the time. Worried you looked around when you couldn’t see Jaehyun’s broad figure anywhere. Did he ditch you? That didn’t seem like him. Curious you looked into the little ally beside the bar where the dumpsters were. At first you couldn’t make out anything in the dark but when your eyes had adjusted, you could make out a figure, no two, in the dark. One of them was wearing a familiar leather jacket with way too many buckles and straps to be convenient. The man was clinging to the second, unmoving figure and the whole scene made Goosebumps break out all over your body.

“J-Jaehyun?” you stuttered, your bag falling from your shoulder, landing on the concrete with a soft thud. As if he was electrocuted, the man with the dark clothes shoved the limp body he was holding onto just a second ago away from him, but no sound left the other man’s lips, nor did his facial expression change in any way. “I can explain this,” Jaehyun said, his lips a deep red and smeared with what seemed to be blood and eyes wide, tinted a bright crimson. You felt a shiver run down your spine, the scream that had been stuck in your throat threatening to spill now. But before it could rip free, a palm was pressed over your lips and your body collided with Jaehyun’s solid frame. “Please don’t scream,” he whispered in your ear which made all the hairs on your neck stand up. What was happening? Why was there blood on Jaehyun? Has his eyes changed color? How did he get across to you within the blink of an eye? What was with the other person? In a panic, your eyes scanned the alleyway and another muffled scream ripped from your throat when you saw that the man was still unmoving even though he was bleeding from a wound in his neck. “Please,” Jaehyun begged, his voice sounding strained, “Let me explain this, don’t hate me.” Being pressed so close to him, you couldn’t help but notice that his chest wasn’t moving in the slightest like it should if he was breathing. What was happening? Panic began to rise inside you and you felt like you were suffocating, your lungs not getting enough oxygen with Jaehyun’s palm pressed over your mouth. Panicking, you grabbed his wrist and let your nails dig into his skin, but the skin didn’t break. Desperate, you tried to get more air into your lungs, meeting his eyes in a silent plea. “Please don’t scream,” Jaehyun repeated firmly before he slowly freed your mouth, but kept holding you close.

You heaved a couple of heavy breaths, feeling the panic slowly disappear but your heart kept beating furiously, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you dizzy. “Let me take care of this and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” Jaehyun spoke once your breathing had somewhat evened out. “I’ll release you now, don’t run away.” Your voice was still lost somewhere, so you just nodded. After confirming with a nod himself, he slowly uncurled from you and walked over to the other man who was still in a daze, staring straight ahead. “You will walk home now and not remember anything that happened from the moment you saw me approach you,” Jaehyun spoke to him, looking into his eyes intensely and if your own eyes weren’t playing a trick on you, Jaehyun’s eyes had turned a bright crimson color. He leaned into the other man again where his neck was still bleeding and when the man turned to leave and walk away, the area was clean. Instead Jaehyun’s lips were smeared with blood that he quickly wiped into his shirt. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” You whispered, your voice sounding raw as if you hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I can explain this,” he repeated again, turning his palms towards you in surrender when he walked back over. “How can you explain this? You- That- That man was straight up hypnotized and behaved like an actual puppet. And that blood. This is crazy. I’m dreaming. That’s it right? Or someone must have slipped me something in the bar and I’m tripping right now. Because this looks an awful lot like you just sucked that guy’s blood like you’re a vampire and that’s crazy. Vampires aren’t real. And I’ve seen you walk around in the middle of the day. But then again, your hands are always cold and I couldn’t even scratch you with my nails and you have mad reflexes,” you started to spiral, the words just falling from your lips. “Hey, take a breath. A deep breath, here,” Jaehyun softly spoke, gently taking your hands and pressing the palms on his chest, taking a deep breath himself.   Even though you tried to breathe with him to calm down, you couldn’t help but notice that his fingers weren’t as cold as they had been before and that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat despite the fact that your palm was sitting right over his heart, just separated by his thin black shirt from the skin. “You… You don’t have a heartbeat,” you whispered, your eyes searching his that were a perfectly normal deep brown shade now while you pressed your palms down on his chest harder. “I don’t,” he spoke carefully, scanning your features for any changes, “I haven’t had one for a while.” “You aren’t breathing right now.” “I don’t need to. I keep forgetting.” “You… You’re forgetting to breathe?” “I usually do when I’m around humans but sometimes I forget.” “You say that as if you’re not…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, it was too absurd. “As if I’m not human myself? I’m not. Not anymore.” “Then what are you?” “You’ve said it before, I’m a vampire,” he confessed.

“A vampire…” You repeated dumbfounded. It made sense, everything was adding up but this couldn’t be the explanation. Vampires were just made up. “And the others are too, they’re my coven. That’s why I didn’t want Johnny to talk to you.” “Would he have..?” Your eyes widened and one of your hands flew to your neck, covering where your pulse was fluttering beneath the skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, I could never,” Jaehyun whispered when he saw the fear in your eyes, gently cupping your face as if to prove his point. “I like you way too much to hurt you. And I won’t let anyone of the others even lay a finger on you.” Your eyes immediately flew to his lips that were still stained red when he leaned in even closer so you would be able to feel his breath mingling with yours if he was breathing. “I really want to kiss you right now, is that stupid?” The vampire whispered. “Don’t hurt me,” you whispered back, letting your eyes fall shut. “I could never,” he breathed before brushing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss that send sparks through your whole body. When Jaehyun felt you relax against him, your fingers uncurling from his shirt, he kissed you again, firmer this time, wrapping his arms tight around you as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

When you felt your head start to get light, you gently tapped his strong chest and he immediately retreated, looking at you with a worried expression. “One of us still needs to breathe,” you giggled breathless. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, carding his fingers through your hair, just watching you breathe for a moment, losing himself in your eyes.

“I have another secret to tell you,” Jaehyun broke the silence, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “I don’t think you can shock me anymore,” you smiled back. “I didn’t actually kill any of the plants I bought. I just needed to have a reason to keep seeing you. Our house looks like a jungle.” You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning into his (not moving) chest that rumbled with his low chuckle. “You’re cute,” you smiled, snaking your arms around his waist below his jacket, somehow not even missing the warmth that bodies usually gave off. “Shut up,” he chuckled, wrapping you up in a tight hug. “You want to know something else?” You whispered into his chest after a while. The vampire just hummed, gently swaying you. “I looked up what the rose meant that you bought when you first came into the shop… You wanna know what it stands for?” Jaehyun hummed again. “It stands for immortality.” This time it was Jaehyun who was laughing, holding your body tighter to steady himself.

[dimensionwriter]

Awkward Shade of Green

Part Four

M! Orc x F! Reader

Word Count: 2021

Warning: None

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Now I know you guys may be thinking right now. "Dimension, what the hell. You said A.S.G. was over with." Well, you got @featherynutcase or @featherednutcase to thank for this.

So, please go and give them a follow and send them some love. They deserve it for dealing with how long I took on this, lol. Anyway, let's get started with the story.

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Gold and black was hanging everywhere around you. It was nothing but a constant reminder that it was that time of the school year. Prom.

The times were stressful for everyone in school. Between trying to get outfits, make plans, or trying to find a date, everyone was panicking slightly. Usually, this time wouldn’t be that stressful for you. It was the same as the previous years: you would go to Prom with Anx and you guys would have fun.

But this time was different. You were dating Zerx and you knew he was looking forward to this. He’s just that type of orc.

You were expecting him to do something extravagant, but something was off.

Zerx has been unusually quiet. He never glanced twice at all the posters in the hallway. Everytime you even slightly mention Prom, he would say he had to go do something. You were expecting him to be more… well excited for Prom.

“Have I done something wrong to Zerx?” you whispered to Anx. Zerx was walking ahead with a friend. He barely spoke a word past hi to you before being dragged away by his friend. You don’t want to be that significant other that’s clingy, but it feels like he’s being a lot more distant lately.

“What in the world made you think that? I’ve heard nothing but talks of you for the last week,” Anx grumbled. Her hand went to her forehead and started massaging her temple.

“He rarely talks to me and I thought he would be the type to discuss something about Prom.” Zerx’s head snapped back at you with wide eyes You got scared for a second thinking that he heard you, but he just gave you a tiny smile before turning back around to his friend.

“That idiot is probably just trying to play it cool,” her eyes glanced away from yours,” Are you worried that he won’t ask you out?” Anx’s arms went behind her head as she slowed down a little bit, so the two of you trailed behind a little.

Were you worried about it? Prom was the least on your mind right now. You were more worried about how Zerx was acting and why he was acting that way.

“Um, I guess. A little,” you lied. She turned your head towards you and she had a giant smirk on her face. Her arms dropped from her head and draped around you.

“Well, worry no more. How about we just work on you asking him out instead?” You open your mouth to voice your opinion of the matter, but she beat you to talking again. “Great, I’ll pick you Saturday so we can plan it.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Zerx’s friend had to leave, so Zerx was stuck with you guys again. You never got the chance to question Anx on her intention, but they have never been bad for you.

Saturday came a lot faster than you expect. Anx showed up a little earlier than the time she said she would, but you didn’t let that bother you. She jokingly scolded you for not being ready as she went through your closet for some clothes for you. What she chose was a lot fancier than what you would have chosen for a day of planning, but you didn’t really mind.

“Hey, do you mind if I drop you off and run to the store real quick?” Anx was driving down the road with a giant smile on her face. Since she has arrived at your place, she has had that smile on her face.

“I can come with you if you want,” you offered, but she was quick to shut you down with a shake of her head. She turned the corner to the road leading to her house.

“See, we are already here. You can go ahead and head in. I’ll be back in like… 5 minutes.” She unlocked the doors and gave you an expecting look. She is definitely acting weird now. Is something going on with Zerx and Anx... or is it you?

You slowly got out of the car as you stared at Anx. She gave you a slow nod of approval. You grab the door handle and continue the slow movements of shutting the door. Anx’s smile turned slightly wicked. What?

You wanted to grab the handle and open the door to question her, but she shot backwards down the driveway. The last thing you saw was her giving you a thumbs up before speeding down the road.

She doesn’t seem mad at you. Maybe the reason she left you alone at her house because she wanted you to talk with Zerx. Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Anx would do. To be honest she probably knew you wouldn’t have talked to Zerx without her help, so she gave you this little push. Well, you won’t let her efforts be in vain.

You grabbed the handle at the door to see the door was already unlocked. Anx must have already had this planned out.

The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door was the black and gold flower petals littering the floor.Almost in a movie like fashion, they made a path that led to the living room.

You entered the house and shut the door behind you. Why were there flower petals littering your floor? Anx may have planned some weird stuff, but this is going a little too far.

“Anx!” That was definitely Zerx’s voice coming from the living room. Heavy footsteps trekked around before rounding the corner. “You’re late. I told you to get here an hour-”

Speechless. The words have left your body and have ascended to a plain beyond your comprehension.

Your boyfriend is the hottest creature on the earth and you will fight someone on it. A grey sweater was pulled over his firm muscles and on top of that was a white button up. A dark navy blue jacket was hanging off his shoulder. His khaki pants were slightly tight on him because of how curvy he was.

His hair wasn’t done up. Black strands were pulled up with a messy bun with a pencil holding it together. The only thing that didn’t go great with his amazing outfit was the pure fear on his face at seeing you. You were hoping for a smile and maybe that cute little red blush. That face was not expected.

He marched forward until he stood right in front of you. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He repeatedly did this before just shutting his mouth completely.

His warm hands wrapped around your waist. Gently, his thumb started rubbing soothing circles into your skin. “Axel?” you asked.

His grip tightened as he hoisted you into the air. You let out a tiny squeal at your ascending height. He took giant steps towards the door before placing you back down outside.

You had a lovely view of the intricacies of the front door as it was slammed in your face. Zerx really just slammed a door in your face. Not to include him lifting you up like you were some sort of child.

You grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door back open. Zerx was still in the hallway with a giant frown on his face.

"Zerx, what the hell was that?" He jumped at your voice. You stomped over to him with a small scowl on your face. "You ignore me for a week and then turn around and kick me out of your house. What is going on?"

His face was completely red and he just froze up. His blue eyes stared blankly at you with his mouth pulled in a tight line.

You waited for a while for him to move or to say something. Instead, he just stood there with nothing moving. The only thing that told you he was alive was the way he was wildly breathing.

"Zerx, standing still won't make you disappear," you whined. You were at your end meets. You just wanted some communication between you two right now.

He let out a groan and grabbed the top of his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm panicking. You aren't supposed to be here," your face dropped down at that," No-no. Not like that. Today was supposed to be the test run for asking you to Prom."

He walked over to you with his head held low. The blush had lightened up on his face allowing for his sullen face to become apparent.

Test run? He was planning to do a test run today.

"Anx was supposed to show up today and see how everything looked and make sure I wasn't going overboard again," he mumbled, staring at the ground. Small black strands fell over his face.

Gently, you reached in front of you and grabbed his hand. Intwinding your finger with his and letting his giant hand engulf yours. The warmth from his hand flowed through your fingers and made his way to your heart. This is the closest you felt to him in a while.

"Baby," you cooed. You got on your tiptoes to get closer to his face. A tiny blush appeared on his face causing you to smile. "You don't have to doubt yourself. I would be happy if you did something big and extravagant or small and quiet. As long as it's coming from you, I will love it."

A tiny little hop. That's all it took to give Zerx a tiny peck on his lip. Zerx was quick to keep your lips connected on your descendant down.

You couldn't help laughing at his action. He was so adorable. Gosh, how could you not love him.

You leaned away from the kiss to contain your laugh. Zerx's mouth formed into a frown as he let out a tiny whimper.

"One more please," he whined leaning towards you. Your laughter turned into giggles as you tried to contain it enough to lean forward to reconnect your lips.

"I miss this," he mumbled lowly. Leaning back, you gave him a smile. "Sorry for ignoring you. I didn't want to overwhelm you with talk of Prom, so I thought if I never mention it, then I would appear cool."

You pressed tiny kisses from his cheeks to his forehead and ended it with a eskimo kiss. "Zerx, I love you for who you are. I will happily listen to you talk about anything you like. What makes you happy makes me happy."

He let out a sigh of relief and stood away from your embrace. His cheeks seem to be stuck being red instead of green. However, instead of being flustered, he was relieved.

"Well, since you're already here. Would you like to be asked to Prom?" He spread his arms out as a way to display the rose petals leading into the living room.

Quickly, you tread forwards. The gold and black petals compressed under your foot before bouncing back to its original shape.

Before you entered the living room, you gave one glance behind you towards Zerx. A giant dorky smile was spread across his face. His tusk protruded out showing you his excitement. Adorable.

You turned back forward and walked into the living room. The black and gold petals continued upwards before separating out and coming back to form the shape of a heart.

Hanging in front of the fireplace were 5 gold balloons that spelled out P-R-O-M-?. On the wall around it were tiny little paper hearts that looked hand cut. On the coffee table were some chocolate covered strawberries, handmade cupcakes with gold hearts on it, and a bowl of caramel.

A pair of large green arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm embrace. The light thumping of his heart vibrated through your body to your heart. Connection.

"Sweetheart, will you go to prom with me?" He whispered into your ear. You placed your hands on his arm and leaned farther back into him.

"I wouldn't want to go with anyone else."

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I've been trying to suppress the desire to come back to this series, but @featherynutcase brought it out of me. I don't know if they are still doing the Prom series, but they are fantastic writer that I love to read when I'm wanting something cute. So please, once again, go check them out.

[esmeraldablazingsky]

I’ve finally hit my limit on the number of bad takes on the Lan parents I can see before I have to lay out all the reasons I disagree, so hello, I’m Blazie, and in this essay I will justify my visceral dislike of the assumption that Qingheng-jun married/imprisoned/had sex with Lan-furen against her will.

    Warning for mentions of rape (in context of Interpretations I Really Hate) and a very, VERY long post below the cut.

    Before I start going off about the finer points of all this, I want to make sure people are on the same page regarding what we actually know about what went down with Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen. What I say is based off the EXR translation of MDZS, for the sake of clarity, and although I don’t think the exact wording should be too important, feel free to let me know if you think I’ve missed an important bit of nuance or something (the whole story is in Chapter 64.)

    The story we get is told by Lan Xichen, and it goes like this: a young Qingheng-jun falls in love at first sight with Lan-furen, who doesn’t return his feelings, and at some point kills one of Qingheng-jun’s teachers over unspecified “grievances.” Although he’s understandably very upset over the murder, Qingheng-jun sneaks Lan-furen back to Cloud Recesses and officially marries her in order to announce to his clan that anyone who wants to hurt her has to go through him.

After that, he locks Lan-furen in one house and himself in another as a form of repentance. Wei Wuxian speculates that this was because “he could neither forgive the one who killed his teacher nor watch the death of the woman who he loved. He could only marry her to protect her life and force himself not to see her.” 

    A central detail of this story that I think people don’t give the import it deserves is that aside from marrying and protecting her, Qingheng-jun’s other option was to let Lan-furen be executed by his clan. His purpose in marrying her wasn’t just for kicks/out of a possessive sort of love, it was so she wouldn’t straight up die. How she felt about this arrangement isn’t stated, but I’ll get into that in a bit. In addition to that, Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen live separately, which was apparently purposeful on Qingheng-jun’s part, and runs counter to the interpretation that he intended to take sexual advantage of Lan-furen.

Though there aren’t many concrete details in Lan Xichen’s retelling, he does specifically inform Wei Wuxian that his mother never complained about remaining in her house. What exactly this signifies is unclear— whether she was simply putting on a brave face for her sons, or whether she was in fact at all content with the situation— but it at the very least serves to further muddy the waters on how she and Qingheng-jun felt about all this. 

Beyond what Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian are saying out loud, there’s also quite a bit of subtext in this scene, especially in light of later events and revelations, like Lan Xichen’s confession for Lan Wangji at Guanyin Temple. 

So what is Lan Xichen trying to convey with all this? There’s a lot of memes about this scene, most of which err too far on the side of Himbo Airhead Lan Xichen for my liking, but one that I do find amusing emphasizes how Lan Xichen draws parallels between Wangxian and the story of his parents (Lan Xichen: [flute solo] please use your one brain cell to connect the dots.) If Wei Wuxian hadn’t completely lost his memory of Lan Wangji defending him against his own clan elders, one would assume that Lan Xichen’s story would have had a much better chance of hitting home. 

In hindsight and side by side, the parallels are much clearer— Qingheng-jun, “ignoring the objections from his clan… told everyone in the clan that she would be his wife for the rest of his life, that whoever wanted to harm her would have to pass through him first.” Similarly, according to Lan Xichen in Chapter 99, “for [Wei Wuxian,] not only did WangJi talk back to him, he even met with his sword the cultivators from the GusuLan Sect. He heavily injured all thirty-three of the seniors we asked to come.”

In that context, it makes a lot less sense to interpret Qingheng-jun as an aggressor towards Lan-furen, as in Lan Wangji’s case, the narrative clearly establishes that his actions are to secure Wei Wuxian’s safety. The action of Taking Someone Back To Cloud Recesses is— okay, actually, it’s a little more nuanced than I took into account when I started writing that sentence, so let me go a little deeper into Lan Wangji’s actions and how they relate to his father’s, story-wise. 

My intent is not to dive into the terrifying underworld of novel-versus-drama discourse, but simply put, Novel!Lan Wangji as he is written isn’t exactly the poster child for clear consent. (I’m going to entirely leave off the extra chapters for the sake of everyone’s sanity, so I’m just talking about the main body of the novel here.)

He means well, and I’m sure we can agree that he does actually love and want the best for Wei Wuxian, but his lack of communication on this point means that he accidentally gives Wei Wuxian the impression that he wants to imprison and/or punish him in Cloud Recesses at least twice off the top of my head (pre-timeskip, as we know, and post-timeskip immediately after Dafan Mountain when he actually drags Wei Wuxian back to his room.) 

That all likely has something to do with MXTX’s narrative kinks and regular kinks and all that, and can absolutely be taken with many grains of salt. However, these events establish how easy it is to misinterpret the action of Taking Someone Back To Gusu as an attempt to imprison rather than protect them (much to Lan Wangji’s chagrin.)

Failing to communicate his purpose to Wei Wuxian doesn’t mean that Lan Wangji actually had any intent of hurting or caging him— that was just a misinterpretation on Wei Wuxian’s part, and we, as the audience, find that out in due time— but as written in the novel, it can be really uncomfortable to read. Because of that, many people choose to accept CQL canon regarding Lan Wangji’s more possessive actions or mix characterization from different adaptations, which, to be clear, I completely understand and respect. 

However, Qingheng-jun doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt as often, which I frankly find baffling, because nowhere in the text does it state that Lan-furen objected to being taken back to Cloud Recesses, while even Wei Wuxian clearly objected the first few times. In fact, while we’re on this note, I’ll take it a step farther— I find it baffling that people seem to default to an unsympathetic view of Qingheng-jun, because nowhere in the text does it state that he overruled Lan-furen’s wishes in any way. The text doesn’t clarify a lot of things, actually, and that is part of the point. 

The narrators of MDZS are, in many situations, highly unreliable. This is, presumably, very purposeful! MDZS can easily be read as a sharp criticism of reputation and mass judgment and the concept of condemning people without knowing their motives! And I don’t want to sound mean, but guys… did any of us learn anything from that? Here, I’m going to put it in meme format for a second to convey what I mean. 

MDZS: It’s easy to condemn someone as a villain if you don’t know their story or the reasons behind their actions

MDZS: Anyway, here’s a character whose story and reasons behind his actions you know nothing about

Some Parts Of This Fandom: Ah, a villain 

    Memes aside, here’s what I want to point out. It’s entirely possible to assume Qingheng-jun was a bad person who disregarded a woman’s wishes in marrying and confining her when all you have is Lan Xichen’s (actually very neutral, thank you Lan Xichen for being an eminently reasonable and concerned-with-evidence character) account of what happened. It would also be at least that easy to assume Wei Wuxian was just an evil necromancer if he hadn’t un-died and brought his own story to light, or even to believe that Lan Wangji had somehow tamed Wei Wuxian into submission and being a respectable cultivator if you were an average citizen of Fantasy Ancient China with nothing but rumors to operate on. 

    The thing about Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen’s story, then, is that there is nobody left alive who knows the full tale. Nobody knows what they thought about anything, really. Nobody even knows why Lan-furen killed Qingheng-jun’s teacher. Wei Wuxian asks why, and Lan Xichen can’t tell him, but I think the best answer would be something along the lines of I don’t know, Wei Wuxian, why did you kill people? Your guess on the motivations of your own thinly disguised narrative parallel are as good as anyone’s. 

    So, while it’s not technically impossible to assign darker motives to Qingheng-jun, the cautionary tale of MDZS seems to warn against that exact assumption. 

    I’ve refrained from getting too salty on a personal level thus far, but now that I’ve said a lot of the more logical and story-based points of my argument, I will say that at least some of my annoyance with the interpretation of Qingheng-jun as a possessive rapist and Lan-furen as his victim stems from the fact that I just think it’s straight up boring. Where’s the nuance? Aren’t you tired of reducing these characters to the flattest possible versions of themselves? Don’t you just want to add a little flavor? 

    In a slightly more serious phrasing of that criticism, I find that making Lan-furen a helpless prisoner strips her of whatever agency she might otherwise have. To be fair, she’s more or less a non-character in keeping with the general state of the MDZS universe, but making her a damsel in distress only consigns her more deeply to hapless, milquetoast innocence. 

    It’s perfectly valid to enjoy ladies who have done nothing wrong, ever, in their lives, but like… Qin Su is right there, if that’s your ball game. There’s also really no need to make Qingheng-jun someone who doesn’t respect women. Isn’t Jin Guangshan enough for at least one universe? 

    Anyway, ultimately, you do you. I don’t like arguing on the internet, and will just ignore things I don’t agree with (or write an 1800 word vaguepost) like a mature human being. I’m just saying, if it’s a cut and dry tale of imprisonment and assault you’re looking for… you probably don’t want to turn to a woman who committed a murder and a man who loved her enough to forfeit everything to keep her safe.