#but then i turned around and he accidentally fell in the water and dissolved and i was inconsolable

[sunshades]

[dmwrites]

It was… quiet. Unusually quiet, Joel decided, as he buffed a bit of gold on his sky kingdom bridge. True, the harsh wind of Upper Stratos usually blocked out most noise, but Joel could also see into other kingdoms from up here, and it all looked so still. Scott’s kingdom, silly Chromia, was closest, and he couldn’t see the colorful man, or any of his strangely intelligent llamas anywhere.

Flying into Chromia, Joel could tell that something was off. The air felt stale here, still and gritty. Joel strode through the land, calling out for Scott, but there was no answer. Similar were the other kingdoms, quiet and silent, like a tomb. Animals were dull-eyed, buildings seemed less vibrant then usual. Joel called out the name of every friend he had, but there was no one.

Joel flew back to Stratos with his chest squeezing in an uncomfortable kind of way. They must all be somewhere together, Joel decided, and forgotten to invite him. It was a sad reach, but still possible. More possible then the deep paranoia that was clawing it’s way up Joel’s chest, screaming that something was very, very wrong.

“Joel? Joel!”

“Sausage?” Joel almost fell out of the sky, catching sight of a handsome, muscular man, dressed in dusty greens and yellows. Hermes stood beside him, looking at the fountain. Joel landed beside them, a wave of relief flooding his body.

“Joel! I brought Hermes by!” Sausage was smiling. “We wanted to say hi.”

“Sausage. Hermes. Oh my god, you’re both… here.” Joel smiled shakily. He’d been wrong, it was all okay. Everything was okay.

“Yep! We’ve been so busy…” Sausage began going on and on about his adventures with Hermes, but Joel wasn’t listening. Pure relief and adoration for his son was all he could comprehend. “…and of course I’m using a gold pickaxe, as the sexy king of the server demands.” Sausage winked at him.

“Glad to see you obeying.” Joel joked back.

“Oh yeah, and this thing is efficiency five, look-” Sausage swung the pick through the air and accidentally broke a block off the fountain. Water seeped out onto Hermes, and suddenly, there was someone else standing in Hermes’ place.

It looked like Jimmy, almost, small and doll-like, but with a painted-on face, black splotches for eyes, and a dash of red for a mouth.

“You guys are terrible parents.” It said in a mocking, squeaky voice. The creature- Joel couldn’t even begin to think of the thing as his son- flew off, vanishing into the horizon.

“Well, I guess that’s that plot point done.” Sausage turned to Joel with a neutral half-smile, and dissolved into red sand before his eyes.

“What?” Joel asked the open air, taking a step back, staring down in horror at the sand, which was picked up by the wind and scattered.

“You know what they said about the king of Mezalea.” There was a colorful man standing on the fountain before him, picking at something under his nails. “They said he died of sadness. All alone. Kind of pathetic, when you think about it.”

“Scott?” Joel asked, but even as he spoke the name, he knew it wasn’t true. The man who looked at him had dark brown hair and a golden crown. And his face looked… warped. Like the very air around him was melting away. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“Who do you think I am, stupid demigod?” The man asked, glancing up at him in clear irritation before going back to his nails.

“You’re the King of Mezalea.” Joel guessed. “You’re talking about in the third person for some reason. You died of sadness from being alone, and now you’re here to what, to haunt me? Jealous of my muscles and hordes of adoring followers?”

“Oh please, Joel. I’m clearly talking about you. How you have died from sadness. From being alone. And how it’s happening again. I’m here because you can’t seem to escape this stupid fate, and if anyone’s going to torment you about it, it’s going to be you. Me. Whatever.”

“That’s not me, fella, that’s you you’re talking about!”

“Is it?” Asked the man in a bored drawl. “You know who I am, Joel. I’m you.”

And Joel did know, he could see his own face reflecting back at him.

“Well, maybe you- me of the past- died of sadness, but I am not sad. I am loved, you miserable ghost.”

The king of Mezalea’s eyes flashed in anger. “Loved by who? By the child who preferred the peaceful protector to the absent god? By the other rulers who batted their eyes for a quick hookup? By the citizens who looked up to the sky at a god who never answered their prayers unless they lied? Where are they all, Joel? Where are those who you claim love you?”

Joel reeled back. “They’re- I am loved, I am!”

“Then where are they all? Huh?” The king laughed. It was a cruel, barking laugh. “You’re no god, Joel. You walk among the lands, gold and quartz embellishing your every step, and yet, and yet, you have nothing but a graveyard of a kingdom to show for it. And it’s the end. You know that, don’t you?”

Joel looked around, at Lower Stratos below him, at the dulling Chromia. “This can’t be real. I- we’ve all been having so much fun. It’s not the end- you’re trying to trick me into thinking… something else.” Joel finished lamely. “And I am a god, more powerful then a king!” He added, trying to sound triumphant.

The king of Mezalea snorted. “If you’re really a god, then you don’t need these wings to fly. If this isn’t real, then jumping off of here will mean nothing. Let’s find out if you’re a god, if you’re going to live forever, wandering a land that never loved you. And if you’re not…” the king chuckled. “Well, you won’t need to worry about anything anymore.”

Joel shucked off his elytra with a brevity he did not feel inside. “I will figure out who is trying to trick me, and I will kill them. You go and tell your master, whenever created you, that I will not fall for this stupid plot. I know I am happy and loved and not alone. I will fall, and I will wake up and it’ll all be fine!” His voice broke on the last word, and he gritted his teeth to keep any fear from forcing its way out of his mouth.

“What’s worse?” The king of Mezalea asked, coming to stand beside him, looking out over the still and silent world. “Thinking that this might be all in your head… or knowing that this is all very, very real?”

Joel stood beside his past, looking down at the ground. The king of Mezalea wasn’t laughing anymore- he was crying, and it was that miserable howl that Joel heard as he jumped.

[handbagman]

I am here to ask about Muriel 👋👋 I need to know everything about this creature STAT

auauuaga

he was like . a water guy originally . water people from the clouds turn into clouds when theyre older he was charlies kid 🙏 he was supposed to take over cloud kingdom when he got older but then charlie and his fucked up eye dissolved half his brain and he started doing fucked up shit . mariel (still a kid) was like OH NAH and bailed . he didnt know what the ground below was like though and landed in ShitFuck Nowhere

ShitfuckNowhere was basically a watery area near a cave . mariel realizing "oh shit i am literally alone right now" started crying and due to some weird stardust bullshit (stardust causes life and everyone has a Little bit of it in them) his tears (oh yeah hes crying over a lake thing) cause the fish under him to Turn into Water people

water people that arent in the ground arent able to turn into cloud people so he accidentally just made a new type of people . his only example of leading anyone was his dad being king so he basically became the king of the water people

meanwhile charlie with his fucked up brain was like "WHERE IS MY SON :-( WHY DID HE LEAVE" and ordered sirius (oh yeah hes here LMAO (he was ordered 2 be a guard when the. Fucked up eye shit started to get bad)) to go find his ass . sirius was like "i mean. he had a good reason t--" and then charlie scared him so he went out to go find mariel .

after a While (a couple years) sirius managed to find them . meanwhile charlie was making this Lightning bolt Thing with the brain power of someone who has half a brainstem . the lightning also fucked up YOUR eyes because something something his stardust being fucked up something.

anyways when sirius found him mariel was doing pretty well 4 himself in terms of "oh hey hes not dead and theres. Other kids (water people are kids in the cloud kingdom but Not Here) as well"

sirius was like "y.yo i found your kid" and charlie was like "WOOOOOOOO OKAY GIVE HIM THIS LETTER DONT FUCKING READ IT. IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER I'M WATCHING YOU WITH A DEADLY [CANNON] THAT CAN KILL YOU ANY SECOND YOU FUCK UP (/vague ref) (ref to gta v sorry)"

sirius dropped down and told a 'guard' (some water guy standing around) to hand it over to mariel . mariel got the letter and was like "huh . someone (charlie didnt say it was him) wants to meet me somewhere for an alliance. idk what a alliance is but hell yeah"

mariel went over to The alliance Spot (some hill with forest on both sides of it) and there was nobody there . he assumed he was early and just Waited longer

MEANWHILE halfbrain charlie is setting up this lightning bolt shit . hes also yelling but considering hes on the highest cloud layer nobody can hear him

he Fires his cool little bolt . problem is that having One Blurry Eye and a shitty Telescope thing and Shit Depth Perception is very good for making you miss . he fucking misses where he was trying to aim (a couple feet in front of mariel) and hits mariel right in the arm, literally killing him instantly

the lightning 1. transforms his eyes to be fucked up 2. tears his arm off 3. electrocutes and kills the fish in his body .

sirius (who was hiding in the forest!! surprise!!!!) was like "WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK" and ran over 2 mariel

Something Something even More stardust bullshit

(sirius isnt actually a cloud person hes a piece of a star person wrapped in clouds and whenever he's feeling too much of anything/doing too much his wounds start bleeding Starfuckshit)

(the lightning bolt is supposed to affect All Eyes that see it (which is why leader also got fucked up cause he saw it) but sirius is Cool and Awesome and only got shitty lightning wounds all over his body)

(he was bleeding everywhere and ran up to mariel and was Bleeding everywhere and his Star(dust) blood basically revived mariel cause it fell in his watery corpse)

sirius doesnt know hes alive again though and goes back up to where charlie is to yell at him because Holy shit he just hit his son with lightning and Why the Fuck did you think that was a good idea you JACKASS and he runs away as well .

mariel revives . wakes up to a "dream" (heehoo clouds correlate with dreams sort of so charlie can See thru his eyes and change his dreams) and mariel was like "WHERE THE FUCK AM I" and charlies like "Come back home bro" and mariels like "WHY CAN I BARELY SEE SHIT" and charlies like "take this.mirror. look"

mariel sees his eyes are like his dads . gets terrified . Immediately starts trying to take his eye out (in his dreams). the second he gets his shitty cloud eye out (from his dream) he wakes up and still scared he starts taking out the other one .

the Dream eye is the eye with the white pupil . the fuckin sans pupil 😭😭😭 dont ask me how that works i dont know either LMRAOOO his other eye (the one thats literally just a hole in his face) is just. a hole in his face

anyways blind as shit mariel is having his body actively transformed (sirius blood shit) (+ hes sort of. evaporating??? not really) and he doesnt know wtf is happening . he cant figure out where his old water 'kingdom' is so he just walks wherever he can 'see' more . he walks like that for a couple weeks before hes found by Leader (WOOOO LEADER)

leaders like "Holy shit dude r you good...." and mariels like "WHAT THE FUCK WHERE IS THAT VOICE COMING FROM"

after a bit of talking mariels like "holy shit theres other people that exist???" and leaders like "yeah lol wanna come over 2 our place you look like shit"

mariel. recuperates over at the fire village 4 a couple more weeks . doesnt eat (hasnt realized he hasnt eaten till after leader kept asking if he needed anything)

MEANWHILE charlie (after yelling at sirius and watching him leave as well) was very Sad . it took him a week to actually get up to pick up his sons body . problem is There was No Body to fucking Pick up cause his son Walked away .

even if mariel just. turned into water and was just a puddle that had no life there still shouldve been fish bones or something nearby . there was Nothing except the 1 eye he ripped out

charlies obviously like "HES ALIVE!!!!!!" . searched around the water kingdom (threatened like. all of them until he was Sure he wasnt there) and was like . "Waaaait a minute. theres MORE people around here! Im even ALLIANCED to one!!!! (the plants but theyre unneccessary atm) Lets go check on the One Other Place here!!!"

he checks the place . threatens everyone . asks leader if he knows . leader is like "nope . never heard of him . what even is water" (mariel is sleeping in leaders house, isnt even aware that his dad is over there)

charlie is like "Hm. Okay!!!!!! If you lied i Will rain on this place So Bad and Kill everyone !!! Have a good day!!! 😁😁😁😁"

(charlie already sent a nice little letter to lindens prior that was like "have you seen a water guy with COOL and NOT WEIRD eyes" and lindens response was just "nuh uh" so he didnt check)

mariel wakes up later to leader being like "Dude. Dude you need to go . Right now . i have a little Box and we are going to Ship you over to the Plant dudes cause its Very Large over there"

mariels like "wtf happened" and when he finds out hes like "Oh. Uh. Okay ☹️ will we meet again" and leaders like "Not for a while bro . you can probably visit later (in a couple months/years) though"

mariel was almost done being turned into the weird . fluffy purple thing he is so when he got in that box he basically just. his liquid goop form got hardened and he basically erupted like a fucking butterfly out of there .

mariel got out to the plant kingdom and then Immediately had the authorities called on him for bumping into too many people and being a public nuisance

(charlie found out leader lied and just Dream tortured him for a while cause he still couldnt find mariel)

the guard that has to escort him away from the public is haynes . haynes doesnt know wtf is wrong with this guy but the guy keeps trying to get out his grasp so he takes mariel all the way over to the plant castle area

lindens is like. "okay. haynes. mind explaining why you brought that here. what is it" and haynes is like "i literally dont know" meanwhile mariel is just like "PUT ME DOWN???? PUT ME DOWN???? PU"

i dont have any explanitory lore for this point but armey and amelia soon get "ordered" (asked politely by lindens) to let him live in their house for a bit until they can figure out what to do

i. have to go i cant keep writing LMFAOOO Sorry

[siriuslyblack12]

ok @prettyremus @by-any-other-name @aroaceslytherin i give in, here's the detailed headcanons for the supervillain au!!

so they meet at a party, a friend-of-a-friend kind of thing. no expenses spared with everything fancy and decked out.

sirius only agreed to go to finish up some business with an old partner in crime, get what he was owed, maybe have a drink or two and get right out. he’s never liked these little criminal get-togethers. sirius black works alone.

but then the most miraculous thing happened, two words: remus lupin.

the most handsome, freckled, sandy-haired and golden eyed man caught his eye from across the bar. his fingers drummed on the counter in time to the music that played, and when he made eye contact with sirius he gave a shy smile that made sirius’ knees weak.

so of course he went over and introduced himself (not that it was needed, sirius black, the king of crime), and they hit it off immediately. flirted all night.

that is, until the place was raided by the police, and suddenly there was a whole lot of screaming and running (not the good kind). sirius was taken off-guard, and found himself pinned to the floor by some dirty-looking scumbag, unsure of what to do. he was about to say his prayers and all that boring shit when he heard a clang and suddenly the guy hovering over him dropped to the floor. remus lupin stood behind him with a bat in his hand, stained with blood.

he lifted him up and into his car, speeding away with cop cars chasing him, and sirius swears months later that that was the exact moment he fell in love – though he did a lousy job of showing it. as remus tended to his wounds back at his apartment (“I’m just trying to help” “I don’t need help, I work alone” “ok then, but don’t blame me when you bleed out, asshole”)

that was the beginning of the well-known, long and happy relationship between the two princes of crime.

sirius charms his way into remus’ heart more quickly than remus would admit, but when you’ve got the star of half the city’s nightmares wrapped around your finger, it doesn’t half feel good.

and sirius is wrapped around remus’ finger, by the way, happily so.

their relationship blossoms from there: dates at high-end places, bringing the most extravagant gifts and flower bouquets, shining smiles and happiness. eventually it blossoms into kisses in every nook they can find, going back to one of their penthouse apartments after dates, staying over; sirius waking with remus’ arms wrapped around him and smiling to himself smugly.

he got his mans!

everyone knows not to mess with these two.

one time, as sirius excused himself to the bathroom, one of his henchmen made a snide and rather homophobic comment about not respecting this drama queen – safe to say he left the place calling his grandmother to tell her he loved her after remus was through with him.

when sirius got back he was politely informed that there would be a ‘change of staff’, but he didn’t quite care as he took his boyfriend into his arms.

sirius adopted every pet name known to man. remus was his sweetheart, his baby, his angel, his honeybun, his darling, his beautiful murderous man. remus quite liked using a few of them himself.

another time, remus wasn’t feeling too well and stayed home while sirius carried out a heist he’d had planned for several weeks of some expensive jewels. sirius offered to stay home and take care of him, but remus insisted the job was too important.

when he did get home, late into the night, remus was already in bed. sirius smiled to himself as he padded over to kiss his cheek, ask how he was (“there’s some leftovers from dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry” “I just wanted to see my baby first”)

their criminal activity is surprisingly domestic. sitting at the dinner table, legs interlocked, as one of them moves money into an overseas account and the other sorts through which stolen jewels to sell and which to keep as leverage.

this will usually dissolve into sirius giving in and initiating a kiss, followed by several more. remus pretends to hate it (“this has to get done” “it can wait, darling”)

maybe at one point remus gets fed up of crime, and wants to do something normal for a bit – find a hobby. sirius wholeheartedly supports his boyfriend’s attempts at art, baking, knitting, squash, chess…”

for their one year anniversary, sirius plans something big: they rob their first bank together, duh.

sneaking little love notes as they crack open the vault late at night, carrying remus over the threshold of the bank floor, kissing under pouring rain-like water as they accidentally set the sprinkler system off.

as they speed away in the getaway car, sirius turns to remus and offers a ring – valued at about 50 million dollars and stolen in their grand robbery. he smiles shyly, duffel bags full of money on his lap, as he lets it glint in the moonlight.

remus almost combusts (but doesn’t as he’s driving and isn’t feeling a near-death situation on their anniversary of all days), says yes and leans over for a long kiss with his boyfriend (now fiancé) as they inch further and further away from the flashing lights of cop cars chasing them down the street.

remus thought it was the most romantic thing in the world.

if that was the proposal, just imagine their wedding !!!

anyways yes our supervillain boys live an unconventional happily ever after as the most feared couple in the world, and both are more than happy to do so.

[asscandles]

Hey thanks for clarifying before now can I have some friendship(maybe secret crush)headcanons for Fuyuhiko, Peko, and Toko with a friend(reader) thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, they are just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid they are. So basically a giant cuddly dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like they(reader)just run up to them saying they want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but they look so happy. gender neutral.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏɴɢ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ! ʙᴜᴛ, ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ, ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ!

ɪ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴛ 3:26 ᴀᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴋᴀʟꜰꜰᴅᴊᴋꜰᴀʟ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ

Peko Pekoyama

“I--What are you doing?”

You stand on the counter, arms extended straight out at your sides. You continue staring ahead with an expressionless face. “I see no god up here… other than me!”

Peko sighs, and you immediately look down at her with round eyes. “Oh, but you’ll always be my queen, Peko! I want you by my side forever!”

Since Peko is always wielding/cleaning her sword, you carry around pastel-colored bandaids and a small first-aid kit in your backpack.

You’re usually by her side, so your absence is always noticed quickly, if not immediately.

You once fell asleep somewhere you shouldn’t have, leaving Peko to ravage the island, searching every nook and cranny until she finally found you curled up in a corner of the airport. All she could do was sigh and crack a tiny, relieved smile. She transfers her sword to her hands before easing you onto her back. Her heart swells when you mumble something and wrap your arms around her neck. All the way back to your cottage, she chides you quietly.

“It’s not safe to be so vulnerable out here. If you’re going to fall asleep out here, do it while I’m with you. Then, you can sleep as soundly as you want.”

M A T C H I N G  B R A C E L E T S

You excitedly gave Peko a card to celebrate the anniversary of your friendship. Peko snorted upon seeing that all of the drawings inside were either stick figures or poorly colored. But you just looked so happy… she couldn’t even bring herself to tease you about it.

You both refuse to speak of this, but one night, Peko woke up to the flickering of a faint light and feverish whispering. She had switched into attack mode in a fraction of a second, only to stop dead in her tracks. You had been standing in the middle of the room, doing the renegade by the light of your phone. You froze upon her reaction. Both of you sat there, staring at each other for a solid twelve seconds. You then proceeded to finish the dance, looking her dead in the eye. Peko may have be tired, but she’d be damned if she let you do it alone. So, she does it while standing on her bed, but clearly lacking energy and motivation.

Ambushing Peko with affection is not uncommon for you. It happens rather often, you clinging to her waist and pleading with her, “Hey, tell me that story again! You know, the one where Fuyuhiko was being held captive and you swooped in with your sword and saved the day!”

When you found out that Peko loved fluffy things, you were ecstatic. You bundled her into your cottage immediately, showing off a small collection of stuffed animals that you had managed to cram into your backpack before your arrival at the island.

Peko selects a white cat plushie as her favorite. From that point on, it is your child. No arguments.

You tend to get lost, so Peko sarcastically suggested tying a balloon to your wrist so that you would be easier to find. But, you totally caught her off guard when your eyes began to sparkle and you shouted, “Can I pick the color?” When she doesn’t answer immediately, you grab her hands and hold them close to your own chest endearingly. “Pretty please? With marshmallows and cookie crumble and whipped cream and sprinkles on top?” Peko obliges. When the balloon is finally secured around your wrist, you are absolutely fascinated by it.

You often fawn over Peko’s skills; but when you do, you use interjections and sound effects because you aren’t able to convey your excitement with just words.

Okay, but she’s actually worried about you lmao

“You have… a lot of mosquito bites. What happened?”

“What? They’re not bites! They were giving me kisses, silly!”

You’ve tried multiple times to surprise her with tickle attacks, but they never work. The only time it went according to plan, you managed to get your hands on her for exactly 0.7 seconds before she turned the tables on you.

Platonic dates? Platonic dates.

You’ve 100% made her flower crowns whose petals match the color of her eyes. 

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

“So… I saw some sour candy in the supermarket. If you lend me the money, I’ll give you half of the rocks I found.” :)

“Considering the fact that you get an adrenaline rush from successfully flipping a pancake, a single piece would kill you immediately.”

Everyone who discovers you two are friends is immediately suspicious. When I say suspicious, I mean, “(Reader), whatever blackmail he’s holding over your head, you don’t have to be scared. We can take care of this together.”

But after witnessing a few of your interactions, they learn of one irrefutable fact.

The embodiment of rage and vulgarity bottled up in human skin does indeed have a weakness.

And that weakness is you.

It didn’t take long for Fuyuhiko to become aware of your appreciation for stickers and your tender heart. That being said, when you’re upset, he won’t object too severely when you request to smooth stickers all over him. He would prefer to keep this interaction private, but if someone does happen to catch him with giraffe stickers on his cheeks and rainbows on his jacket, then he’s going to wear them proudly, goddamnit.

And if anyone has anything rude to say about it, then I hope they can speak sign language, because all they’ll be seeing is hands.

You’re aware of his insecurities, and you can understand why he feels the way that he does. But that’s where you come in. You always seem to approach him at the right moments. 

By now, you’ve figured out that he doesn’t always need words to reassure him. It’s enough if you’re just there, ready with open arms and a glass of water. Fuyuhiko doesn’t cry often. But when he does, he ends up dehydrated more often than not.

Let’s be honest. After Fuyuhiko lost his eye, his depth perception was most likely shit. You were always at his side, one hand on his arm as you gently guided him from room to room. You watched over him.

Accidentally knocking over a drink? You were ready to wipe it up. Searching for something he lost? You were there, helping him look. Tripping or bumping into things? You were there with a first aid kit to patch him up.

You try to match his level of sass, but you’re highkey too nervous to swear and you usually stutter the last word of whatever witty comeback you manage to come up with. Fuyuhiko secretly thinks it’s adorable, and he doesn’t want you to lose that part of yourself. That’s why he always defends you when it comes to verbal beatdowns.

You once drew a face on an egg, and when Fuyuhiko questioned you about it, the only thing you could offer was a deadpan “our son.”

“What the hell--that’s an egg.”

“No! His name is Linguini and he’s our child!”

Fuyuhiko is exhausted bro.

You’ve approached him countless times, eyes glowing with awe and insisting that you need to show him something really cool. It’s usually just a rock or a piece of glass, though. He always has the urge to poke fun at you for it, but it fizzles away when he sees how utterly bewitched you are with your find.

One time, he had walked into the room to see you standing on the arms of an office swivel chair, knees bent and arms extended as you fought to maintain your balance. You seemed to be fairly steady.

Still, that didn’t prevent him from nearly falling into cardiac arrest on the spot.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

It had startled you, and the chair rolled out from underneath you. Fuyuhiko rushed to catch you. You both tumbled to the floor in a knot of limbs, lying there in varying degrees of pain. You were laughing. Fuyuhiko was absolutely most fucking not.

“Thanks for breaking my fall!” You had chirped, gesturing to the arm lodged under the small of your back to protect it.

“You little--” Fuyuhiko’s voice had been strained, but his tight-lipped grimace dissolved into a sigh at the sight of your smile. He disentangled himself from you and pressed the pad of his index finger into your forehead. Your lips formed a small “o” shape, your eyes crossing to try to keep track of his finger. “You need to be more careful from now on. I won’t always be here to catch you.”

“But, you’ll still patch me up afterward, right?” You poked his forehead back.

He huffed and pulled away from you. “To the best of my ability. But don’t push it.”

Toko Fukawa

Initially, the only reason that Toko set aside her natural distrust and suspicion of people in order to befriend you was because she thought that you were simply too innocent and simple-minded to ever think badly of a friend.

She thought that having such a sweetheart glued to her side would disperse her dubious reputation and make her seem less suspicious during class trials.

Yep… That’s the only reason she keeps you around...

Not because of the way her heart feels all fuzzy when you embrace her… Or because of how your eyes sparkle whenever she offers to let you read one of her new works… Or because of how relaxed she feels when you weave her hair into intricate braids…

Not at all…

Hahahashutuphahaha…

She often scolds you for being such a pushover when people disrespect you, but she means well. You insist that it doesn’t bother you, but she’s an expert on human emotion. She is a writer, after all. She knows that it haunts your thoughts for a while afterward, and she hates seeing you like that.

You’ve noticed that Toko bites her nails when she’s stressed, so you’ve decided to combat her habit by applying nail polish to her nails. That way, you figure, the taste of the nail polish will deter her from tearing at them with her teeth. She also has the option of picking off the nail polish, which is probably less harmful than chewing on them.

You also kinda sorta... believe that video game cheat codes work in real life, so you’re often moving around and jumping, shouting the combinations as you go.

“Right! Right! Left! Up! Left! Down! Right! X! Y! Now, confess your sins!” You command during a class trial, pointing vaguely toward the accused. Toko just quietly shushes you, dark circles rimming her eyes as she pats your head.

You’ve adopted the habit of narrating the things you do, like whispering “wiggle, wiggle, wiggle” when sliding your feet into your shoes and “shimmy, shimmy, shimmy” when slipping your charm bracelet past your hand onto your wrist. Coincidentally, Toko has also subconsciously started doing the same thing, and she cannot think of anything more irritating.

She once jokingly told you to stop being so dependent on her. You promptly flushed scarlet and snatched the box she had been carrying out of her hands, insisting that you were more than capable of taking it to storage yourself. You had marched indignantly out of the room and headed left, only for Toko to call out, “Uh, storage is the other way.”

You reappeared a moment later, now stomping in the opposite direction. “I knew that!” You huffed.

You’re aware of Genocide Jack, but you aren’t afraid. You whole-heartedly trust that your friendship is enough to outmatch Genocide Jack’s bloodlust, as naive as it may be. Your only response to Toko’s confession of having a split personality is to gift her a cherry-flavored lip balm with a bright smile. At first, Toko is confused. You explain that whenever Genocide Jack makes an appearance, their tongue is always lolling out of their mouth. You’re concerned that their lips will get dried out, and you want to do your best to prevent it.

Did Toko’s heart just burst? Maybe.

Toko shares her romance novels with you, but only the ones without sexual interactions. She believes that you’re far too pure for those. Plus, she would really not rather answer your questions about anything of that nature.

Toko is determined to preserve your purity. She’s very protective whenever someone shows the slightest bit of sexual or romantic interest in you, and has even referred to you as her baby before.

Whenever Toko gets insecure or anxious and covers her face with her hands, you gently remove them from her face with a soft giggle of “Peekaboo!” Toko doesn’t fight you as you carefully pull her into your arms and rest her head against your chest. In fact, she finds herself surprisingly close to tears when you inquire, “Hey, you want to hear a lullaby? I can’t remember who sang it to me first, but it always helps me calm down. So, I want to share it with you!”

There will be times when Toko is too busy writing stories to pay you any attention. But no matter! After a moment of consideration, you have an idea. You gather blankets and pillows and settle onto the floor beside Toko’s seat. Your arms loop themselves around her leg, and your head finds its way onto her thigh. It isn’t long before you doze off, Toko watching you in silent shock, face rosy with bashfulness and eyes wide.

Toko is very adamant about covering up her legs due to both the tally marks scored across her skin and the quote-on-quote “sturdiness” of her thighs. You, however, have an entirely different outlook. You reason, “the bigger your thighs, the more snacks you can hide under them!” 

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

How about an au where punz doesn't show up during the disc War final

That was one of the first AUs I ever planned out in my head, eventually getting refined into my protege!innit AU. So here you go my lovely anon, here’s the concept, slightly refined. (Also, quick warning that Tommy does use some accidentally ableist language in this! Also, this is INCREDIBLY dark)

Tommy clung onto the headless body of Tubbo desperately, sobbing and sobbing and praying for somehow a way for him to come back, his cries echoing throughout the underground vault the only sound. Hands grasping onto his hair, stern but not harsh, barely brought him back into reality.

Dream sighed. “Tommy. Follow me.”

“No.”

His hair was tugged, harshly. “What do you mean, no?”

“No. I’m not coming with you.”

Dream held out the bloodstained axe, dripping with Tubbo's blood. It nearly made Tommy sick to see it again. “You don’t have a choice. Come with me or you will die here.”

“Maybe that's what I want! Maybe I’d rather die and be with Wilbur and Tubbo than be your fucking toy to torture or whatever!” Tommy shouted, the broken voice echoing.

Dream sighed again. “If you’re going to be difficult…”

The axe handle hit Tommy's head. All went black.

He woke up in a cell too dark and too bright, suffocatingly small and blistering hot with the heat of the lava. The yellow orange red mix was mesmerising. It should be so so easy to just touch it and end everything and go to whatever came after. It must be better than being a psycho bastard's personal punching bag.

He passed out from the pain when he tried to stand. He woke, again in the bed in the cell. It was surprisingly comfortable, better than the bed he had managed to put together in exile, and he hated it. That implied a level of permanence to his hell.

Wilbur's coat was gone, he noticed. He was pretty sure he was in a different set of clothes, too. He would not have the time to worry about those things soon.

(Meanwhile, a skull with ram horns and a bloodsoaked red and white hoodie and a patchwork longcoat wash up on the shores one day. They are taken to a home where a half-exploded beanie sits waiting for its wearer, and there are three extra seats at the table that will never be filled.)

Tommy had no idea how long he was alone in the cell. It could have been hours, days, weeks, an eternity. Time meant nothing, anymore. He still felt far too sick to leave the bed, the headache and bleeding from when his head was hit barely getting any better along with him feeling weaker and weaker, desperate for any water, any food.

He was certain he was going to die when he, half conscious, heard footsteps and was sat up on the headboard. Water was held to his lips, his throat and lips so dry he could barely take sips. When he’d finished the bottle, he was hand fed warm bread, so hungry it tasted like ambrosia on his tongue and so delirious he couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry he was being fed like an animal.

When warm hands were moved away, and he heard footsteps on the floor, Tommy let out a confused, animalistic chirp, barely aware what was going on but just knowing he didn’t want to be alone again. A laugh echoed from the walls, and a hand was run through his hair. Tommy leant in, purring like a cat. As he fell back into unconsciousness, all he could do was beg whoever was there in a voice scratchy and barely audible to please, please not leave him alone again.

He didn’t dream anymore. That was too much thought, hurting his head and making him almost sick, though he didn’t have enough food in him to be sick anymore. He just let himself be consumed by the darkness, and he slept well for the first time in a while.

He was alone again when he woke. Almost alone. A ghostly figure sat cross-legged at the lava keeping him prisoner, the green of his shirt almost invisible through the red stained blood, and his head in his hands and not on his neck. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going mad already or if this was like Ghostbur, but either way he felt less alone with the ghostly form of Tubbo with him.

Ghost Tubbo disappeared when the lava parted, Dream entering into Tommy's prison. Tommy glared at the masked man, and he laughed. “Last time I was here, you were begging me to stay.”

Tommy felt himself turn red slightly at the memory of that, but continued glaring. “Fuck off.”

“Tommy, don’t speak to me like that or you’re not going to be able to eat today.” Dream said, with the tone Wilbur got when he used to tell off Tommy when he was doing something stupid. It made Tommy's blood boil.

“I don’t care,” he said, even as his throat ached and stomach throbbed. “Just let me die.”

Dream shook his head. “You’re too fun.”

Tommy growled. “And you’re a fucking sociopa-“

Tommy's cut off to hands around his neck, claws digging in deep enough to bleed. “I’d advise you listen, Tommy.” Dream said, voice as cheerily calm as always. “Or I’ll make you listen.”

Tommy sputtered for breath when his neck was released. “What do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with my only friend. Is that so hard to believe?” He laughs at Tommy's disbelieving expression, looking for the hidden meaning in the words. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you? You know, things would be much easier if you stopped trying to defy me.”

(By the time Dream left, Tommy was holding a broken nose, black eyed and bruised, starving, and defiance in his eyes slightly dimmed.)

Life fell into a sickening routine. When Dream wasn’t there, Tommy slept. He was too dehydrated to cry anymore, so he just stared at the wall when he was awake. Ghost Tubbo was there, sometimes. When Tommy dared speak to him, he was mechanical, emotionless, entirely dedicated to protecting Tommy but painfully aware he couldn’t do anything but watch.

When Dream was, he’d bring food and water. Most of it ended up discarded, Tommy being deemed as too disobedient to deserve it. Sometimes he gave in and acted good being so desperate and hated himself for it. On those days, Dream talked with him, messed with his hair and hugged him and treated him with a twisted form of the affection Tommy recognised from Wilbur, or maybe Phil. On most days, Tommy was “punished.“

He’s not sure how long it took, but Tommy noticed as he slowly lost sight in one of his eyes as he took more and more blows to the head, how his left arm started hanging completely limp after being broken one too many times, how the web of scars covering his entire body only grew, both larger and deeper.

The first time Tommy died, it was unintentional. His head was hit against the obsidian, and something inside him broke, and he’s dead before he could even realise he’s dying. He wasn’t sure whether the afterlife is better or worse. It’s dark, and empty, and Wilbur is frightening, but there’s Tubbo- the Tubbo he knew, not the dull eyed ghost who as Tommy had learnt from Ghostbur was a separate entity.

It’s a month in the afterlife, apparently, before he’s brought back, the cell a mess of colour and noise and heat and touch and all of it too much, too much. Dream is excited, enthusiastic, asked him everything he can about the afterlife. Tommy refused to talk, and the slap across the face he received was a far, far, worse pain than gouging claws and broken limbs. He talked after that, through pained tears.

After that, it became a part of the routine he grew worryingly accustomed to. Like clockwork, every thirty visits he was killed, and like clockwork, he was always revived after one month in the afterlife, one day outside it. Dream asked him inane, weird questions about the afterlife. Sometimes he took Tommy's blood, sometimes he gave him weird injections. Dream was always weirdly kind on those days, and Tommy grew to long for them in a twisted way. He hated himself for it.

Bruises grew around his neck, refusing to heal. Deep deep cuts on his neck and his wrists stayed open, bleeding slightly when touched. Stab wounds and axe cuts covering his torso did the same. His hair turned white in chunks. Dream started dying it blond. It hurt and got into his wounds on his head. He learnt to tolerate it because when he squirmed and tried to get away it upset Dream and that's worse.

It’s easier to behave, so he does. He barely talked for a while, but he learnt that’s another thing that upset Dream. He bit his tongue and pretended it’s Wilbur, it’s Phil when Dream held him in his arms and ruffled his hair and talked gently to him. One day he brought in a jukebox and played the discs. It reminded Tommy of a time before the cell. He couldn’t remember the colour of grass or how the sunset looked. He hated it. Dream offered him the discs if he behaved, later on. Tommy grabbed them from his hands and shattered the plastic in two, because he didn’t want them, he didn’t want them to even exist because what was the fucking point of caring about anything anymore? Not discs, not people, not anything. Dream laughed and laughed.

(A ghostly teen, head held in his arm, gathered the shards. He stood at the door of a snowy house, uncaring of the pain as his body dissolved in it, not even reacting. When inside, he explains, monotone, to a paling looking angel and a crowned anarchist who’s hunger for blood increased by each word.)

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[crossbowking]

Space Between Us

Summary: (Set at the beginning of Alexandria) After the reader has one too many drinks, she finds herself being taken care of by the archer.

Request: “I’m here if you need anything, okay?” @anonymous 

A/N: I’m so sorry this one has taken so long for me to finish! With all of the shit going on in the world, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I hope everyone out there is staying safe during this time!

Also, I’m so sad about the season 10 finale getting pushed back because of this virus. 

Ugh.

Hopefully, this story can bring y’all a little joy during this time.

xx crossbowking

Masterlist

Ko-fi Account

It wasn’t until after you’d finished your fourth glass of wine that you realized you should’ve stopped at your third.

You hadn’t been able to help yourself though — you’d just gotten caught up in the moment, the normalcy, of what was going on around you.

Alexandria was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You hadn’t thought places like this could even exist in the new world you lived in. Yet, here it stood — with steel walls and fortified gates, with watchtowers and armories. There were children of all ages, running around as if there weren’t flesh-eating hoards of the dead roaming outside. There was enough food and water for all, enough medical supplies to stock up a small infirmary. There was even a beautiful garden, for fuck’s sake.

The people within the community had no clue — no concept — of just how bad things had gotten outside their walls.

And just how good they had it inside of them.

When Deanna had first invited your group into her home, to partake in some sort of makeshift ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ party, you’d been hesitant. After everything you’d seen, after everything you’d been through the past few months — the Governor, the Claimers, Terminus — the last thing you’d wanted to do was dress up and play pretend, as if the world hadn’t completely gone to shit.

Still, it was important that you try, that your entire group try — to fit in, to mingle, to get a feel of what exactly you were about to get yourselves into.

And even more so, it was important that you scoped out the people of Alexandria. Your group didn’t trust easy — and for good reason.

You had a little more faith than Rick and the rest of the group. Faith that there were still good people out there and maybe, just maybe, you’d found some here.

Although that could’ve been the wine talking.

A hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, waving back and forth. “Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Maggie teased from beside you, drawing you back from your dazed thoughts.

You glanced down at her sheepishly, swaying slightly from where you sat, perched on the arm of the couch. “Hm?” you hummed faintly, a lazy smile creeping across your face.

Maggie laughed aloud, her features softening for the first time in what seemed like forever as she turned to whisper something to Glenn, who sat beside her.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over there?” you protested with a pout, leaning over in an attempt to eavesdrop — but you suddenly found yourself tipping over, your balance having disappeared right around that second glass of wine, and landed in a clumsy pile beside Maggie.

The pair dissolved into a fit of laughter as you struggled to upright yourself, finding an unexpected giggle slip through your own lips as you gave up with a huff, your face pressed against the back cushion of the couch. “Help?” you asked pathetically, words muffled against the fabric.

Maggie stifled another laugh as she grabbed your hand, pulling you up into a seated position. Glenn shared an elusive look with Maggie, the two seemingly having a silent conversation, before he stood suddenly, extending his hand towards you. “Alright, come on.”

You accepted his reach without question, allowing him to help you up, swaying slightly on your feet. “Ooh, where we goin’?” you mumbled as Maggie joined the two of you.

“Glenn’s gonna take ya home, alright?” Maggie assured, still looking as though she was struggling to keep a straight face.

“What!” you protested, pulling your hand from Glenn’s. “I’m fine — seriously, I’m — I’m fine,” you nodded, waving off the couple as you attempted to do your best impression of a sober person.

“Okay, Y/N,” Glenn relented, crossing his arms over his chest before he smirked at you, shooting Maggie a look you couldn’t quite interpret. “Say the alphabet backward,” he challenged.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring how the motion made your head spin. “Hey, hey, no! That’s not — that’s not supposed to be your shit! Shit, I mean shtick,” you fussed, waggling your finger. “That’s — that should be Rick’s thing, right? ‘Cause, ‘cause he is a man of the law,” you grinned, drawing out the word ‘law’ before you grabbed onto Glenn’s shoulder. “Ya feel me? Ya feel me, brother?” you gasped softly, looking around in bewilderment. “Whoa, that was weird.”

Maggie covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing directly in your face before she excused herself, spotting Rosita motioning her over from the other side of the room.

“Alright, alright, let’s go,” Glenn ushered you forward despite your weakening protests.

You groaned dramatically, earning a side-eye from a couple of Alexandria’s residents — but you simply ignored them, allowing your friend to guide you out of the living room and through the front door.

The cool night air rushed to meet your flushed skin as you inhaled sharply, shaking your head back and forth in an attempt to clear some of the haziness you felt. But the motion threw you off balance and you teetered at the edge of the porch stairs for a moment before Glenn steadied you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he cautioned before helping escort you down the steps safely.

You turned to him once you reached the sidewalk, widening your bleary eyes as you grabbed onto his arm. “Hey, can I ask you somethin’?” you suddenly mumbled, staggering briefly.

Glenn’s expression became serious as he turned to face you fully, his kind eyes locking with yours. “You okay?” he asked, worry etching his features, making him seem much older than he was.

“Is — oops, shit, sorry,“ you fumbled backward for a moment, having accidentally stepped on Glenn’s foot. You stiffened, keeping yourself upright as you took a deep breath. “Is Glenn short for Glennith?”

Glenn froze for a moment as though the question hadn’t fully registered before a smile broke across his face.

“What?” you questioned, brows knitted in confusion. “Come on, what!” you pressed, suddenly unable to stop giggling as you swayed back and forth.

“This is my favorite version of you,” Glenn laughed, reaching out to steady you once more before he jerked his head to the side, making a move to leave.

You took a step forward before faltering, gasping softly. “Shoot,” you murmured under your breath. Glenn shot you a confused look, quirking a brow at the dramatics. “I forgot my jacket,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest as a chill racked through you.

“Oh, I got it,” Glenn offered, turning back towards the house — but not before shooting you a firm look. “You just hang out here for a second, okay?”

You nodded, giving your friend two big thumbs up.

Glenn rolled his eyes, though a smirk was still etched on his face. “I mean it,” he urged, pointing a finger at you as he hurried back up the stairway and disappeared inside the house.

You sighed contently, unsure of the last time you’d felt this good — this free. Clearly, your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t what it used to be — but in that moment, alone in the quiet, the chilled night air biting at your exposed flesh, you simply couldn’t find it in you to give a damn.

“What’re ya doin’?” came a sudden voice, breaking the stillness.

You startled, spinning around on your heels towards where the sound came from. But you misstepped, one foot slipping off the sidewalk and onto the road, pitching you forward. Though you managed to stay standing, you straightened too quickly, suddenly losing your balance completely and tumbling down hard onto your right side. “Oof!” you huffed as your body slammed against the pavement, the skin on your right palm tearing as you attempted to catch yourself before your face hit the ground. “Yep, that’s gonna leave a mark,” you groaned through clenched teeth as you rolled onto your back, throwing one arm across your eyes.

You were vaguely aware of footsteps approaching, boots scuffing against asphalt before halting in front of you. “The hell’s wrong with ya?” came that same gruff voice from before, though closer this time.

You lifted your arm slightly, peeking up at the archer now standing above you before you covered your eyes once more. “I fell,” you exhaled defeatedly.

Daryl grunted softly. “I saw.”

You sighed once more, pushing up onto your elbows, locking eyes with the archer. “What can I say? I’m an athlete,” you shrugged sarcastically, waving one hand around as though you were royalty.

“Mhm,” Daryl murmured, nodding along — though you could’ve sworn you saw the hint of a smile toying at his lips before he reached his hand down towards you.

The sober version of yourself would’ve been mortified — but this version, this version couldn’t care less.

You took the archer’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet, swaying briefly until you found your balance. You huffed, blowing a misplaced strand of hair out of your face before your eyes settled on Daryl’s, noticing that he’d already been watching you. “Hi,” you smiled sweetly, wondering if you should be concerned that you could no longer feel your face.

Daryl scoffed lightly, unwinding his hand from yours, shoving it deep into the pocket of his jeans before his expression became serious. “Ya shouldn’t be out here alone, ya know,” he rumbled, surveying the surrounding area with guarded eyes. “Ain’t safe.”

You pursed your lips, looking up and down the darkened street before pointing towards the massive walls surrounding the community. “That’s why — that’s why they built these big ass walls, Dixon,” you shot back, tapping your finger to your temple. “Keeps the outside — the outside, uh, outside, you know?”

Daryl grunted. “Ain’t the outside we oughta be worried ‘bout,” he muttered under his breath before pausing, giving you a brief once over as if he was really looking at you for the first time. Then he slowly leaned forward, narrowed eyes boring into yours and you found yourself subconsciously holding your breath under his scrutinizing stare.

“What?” you asked, somewhat self consciously, ignoring the heat suddenly rushing to your cheeks.

“How much have ya had?” he questioned blankly.

“What —“

“Ta’ drink, Y/N,” he demanded, growing irritated for reasons unbeknownst to you.

“Oh,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “What’s it matter?”

Daryl opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of a door closing drew your attention away.

You spun around, wavering slightly, your nerves still buzzing from the moment previous as you watched Glenn hurry down the steps, your jacket in hand. “Glenn!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up into the air.

But Glenn didn’t seem fazed — instead, his expression looked tenser than it had before. He spotted Daryl behind you and nodded an acknowledgment as he approached. “Hey,” he breathed, slightly out of breath, glancing over his shoulder back up at Deanna’s house. “Here,” he murmured, handing over your jacket, peeking up at the house once more.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl questioned immediately, stepping up onto the sidewalk beside you.

You glanced over at the archer, his normally unreadable features back in place — but he clearly knew something was going on that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, nothing — just —“ Glenn sighed, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. “Sasha. She’s — she’s kind of having a tough time in there.”

Then as if on cue, Sasha came barreling through the front door, rushing down the stairs as though someone was after her. She spared the three of you a quick, flustered glance before she pushed past Glenn’s outstretched hand and stormed down the sidewalk, away from everyone else.

Glenn exhaled heavily, looking back at you and Daryl somberly. “Like I said, she’s having a tough time,” he murmured, rubbing a hand through his hair as he shifted, looking torn all of the sudden.

“Go,” Daryl suddenly rumbled.

Glenn glanced at you before looking at Daryl. “But —“

“M’ goin’ back ta’ the house anyways,” the archer interrupted. “I got her.”

You were about to ask who this ‘her’ was that they were talking about — but then Glenn was jogging off in the direction Sasha has just gone and Daryl was nudging you in the opposite direction.

“Wha — oh, alrighty then,” you stumbled forward slightly, feeling Daryl grab onto your elbow to keep you upright.

The longer you walked, the more your buzz began to wear off, the crisp night air having an efficient way of sharpening your senses. Neither you or the archer spoke, walking side by side in silence — you didn’t mind, though. You’d always felt oddly comfortable around him.

When you’d first joined the group back at Atlanta, everyone had warned you of the archer. They’d said he was hotheaded and aggressive, hostile and impulsive — especially living under the shadow of his older brother. But you’d never thought any of that — honestly, when you’d looked at him back then, you’d just thought he seemed scared.

And rightfully so if you had anything to say about it.

You sighed aloud, hugging the jacket you still held close to your chest. The house your group shared came into view — you’d only been at Alexandria for a couple of days and it seemed like no one was quite comfortable enough to move into their own spaces yet. You didn’t care — you preferred to be in close proximity to your family — it was the only way to keep everyone safe.

Daryl was so silent, you almost forgot he was beside you. Not even his footsteps made a sound — that was probably why he made such a good hunter, you thought to yourself. But you didn’t have to look at him to know he was deep in his thoughts, his mind constantly on edge, reliving the brutal past and anxiously waiting for the next bad thing to occur.

You nudged him gently. “Hey,” you murmured, your hazy eyes locking with his troubled ones. “We’re gonna be okay,” you whispered softly.

Daryl huffed, approaching the front steps of the house. “I jus’ don’t trust ‘em, is all,” he finally grumbled.

“You? Not trusting people? You’re kidding!” you teased, feigning surprise as you stepped up onto the stairs.

Karma came at you full force then — you realized too little too late that you’d misjudged your growing sobriety. Almost immediately, your foot slipped out from under you, causing you to topple forward, the steps rushing up to meet your face. But before you could fully face plant, you felt Daryl grab onto one of your flailing arms, stopping your fall just in time. “Shit,” you breathed, craning your neck to look at the archer. “I guess I deserved that one for sassing you,” you groaned, using your free hand to push yourself up.

You hissed suddenly, pain spreading through the palm of your right hand as you straightened — you’d forgotten all about your little tumble outside of Deanna’s. But before you could get a good look at your palm, Daryl’s hand snaked around your wrist, bring your arm closer to his face. He inspected your hand by the light streaming from the front porch, his expression neutral. “C’mon,” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you, nudging you up the stairs.

You cradled your hand to your chest, the pain sharper now that you were sobering up. But above anything else, you simply felt embarrassed. For drinking too much, for making an ass out of yourself — especially in front of him.

Your head hung low as you carefully maneuvered up the stairs and followed the archer inside. You spared the back of his head one last look before sighing, turning towards the stairs that led to the second floor, determined to stow yourself away in pure mortification.

“Where’re ya goin’?” Daryl’s voice cut through the silence.

You faltered, one foot already on the first step. “Oh —“

“C’mere,” he stated simply, waving you forward as he made his way into the kitchen — it wasn’t a request, you realized a moment later.

Your brows knitted in confusion as you set your jacket down on the railing, following the archer into the next room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching Daryl stomp around the kitchen in a whirlwind, opening and closing cabinets, clearly searching for something. He glanced at you from over his shoulder. “Sit.”

His tone of voice made you feel like a child — but still, you did as he told, sliding down into one of the chairs around the dining table. You propped your head up with your left hand, uncurling the fingers on your right hand to examine the cut.

It wasn’t as bad as you’d thought — there were a couple of scrapes, some deeper than others, and little dark specks inside of the torn skin, most likely rocks or small pieces of gravel.

A soft clink drew your attention and you noticed the archer now standing beside you, a glass of water now placed on the table. “Drink,” he grunted before turning without another word.

You watched his retreating form, your eyes narrowing as he began searching the cabinets once more. “Have you always been this bossy or am I just realizing it now?” you challenged, quirking a brow. Daryl didn’t turn around but you heard a soft grunt which you chose to interpret as a ‘yes’.

You rolled your eyes, but grabbed the glass of water nonetheless, nearly chugging the entire contents in one gulp — you hadn’t even realized you’d been that thirsty. Daryl continued to move about the kitchen, clearly on some kind of mission, searching for something he was having trouble locating. But you were content to sit and simply watch him exist — you’d always found him as somebody you had a hard time not noticing.

You took another long swig of water as the archer reappeared at the table, holding a bowl in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. He set the bowl down and slid it towards you. “Eat,” he rumbled, his tone still demanding as he sat down on the chair diagonal from you.

Whatever smart-ass comment you were about to make fell short when you peered inside the bowl, a soft gasp escaping through your lips as you peeked up at the archer. “Is — is this —” a small smile crept over your face. “Spaghetti?”

“Aaron,” the archer answered simply, sliding a fork towards you.

You picked up the utensil from the table, digging into the meal without a second thought, unable to stop the blissful moan that came out of you after the first bite. “Oh my God,” you sighed around the food in your mouth. “I love him — I, I mean, I truly love him.”

“Alright, easy, girl,” Daryl grumbled, rummaging through the kit before pulling out tweezers, gauze and alcohol wipes.

You laughed softly. “Don’t be jealous,” you teased, shoveling another big forkful of pasta into your mouth.

The archer merely rolled his eyes, though you could’ve sworn his gaze darkened. “Lemme see,” he suddenly grumbled, grabbing the hand you’d injured, laying it onto the tabletop, palm facing the ceiling.

Using your free hand, you continued eating, every mouthful further sobering you up. Your body was starting to feel sluggish, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment as you finished your last bite, sighing contently.

You pushed the bowl away as you propped your head up with your free hand, watching the archer’s steady movements. He picked up the tweezers, resting them between his fingertips as he slid his other hand beneath yours, bringing your palm closer to his face. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the cut on your hand, using the dimmed light above the kitchen table to survey the damage done.

He pulled your fingers back slightly, the skin on your palm stretching as he hunched over, his soft breath tickling your skin. His touch was surprisingly gentle, you realized then.

“Huh,” you breathed softly, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

Daryl glanced up, regarding you warily. “What?” he mumbled, almost self-consciously.

“Dr. Dixon,” you waggled your eyebrows, a soft laugh slipping through your lips as the archer rolled his eyes, though you could’ve sworn you saw the tips of his ears suddenly turn pink.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, though his tone lacked any harshness. He brought the tweezers to your skin, slowly pushing them deeper into your palm until he was able to grasp an imbedded piece of gravel.

You winced, fighting back the urge to curl your hand into a fist. Daryl glanced up at you, scanning your features for a moment before he continued removing the small pieces of rock, moving a fraction slower than before.

Daryl was efficient — he had your wound cleaned and bandaged within minutes, neither of you uttering a word the entire time. You were content to just watch, keeping your gaze on his features to distract you from the burning sensation on your palm. He was incredibly focused — looking as though he was diffusing bomb instead of simply wrapping your hand in gauze.

His brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed — though that seemed to be a permanent feature of his. You suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to touch him, to brush away some of the worry etched on his face — to just be closer to him.

But you fought back the urge, instead bumping your knee against his to draw his attention. “Hey,” you murmured as your eyes locked. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.”

Daryl was quiet for a moment, his gaze searching yours before he finished the last wrap, releasing your hand from his.

“I mean it,” you pressed, sighing softly. “Even if it doesn’t work out here, we’re gonna be alright. I need you to know that, D. I just —“ you exhaled, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m here if you need anything, okay? Anything.”

The archer remained silent, a flash of something flitting across his features as his eyes flickered down to look at your lips before locking with yours once more. “Ya got somethin’ on your face,” he suddenly murmured.

“What!” you squeaked out, leaning away from him abruptly, feeling your face flush.

Daryl pointed to the corner of his lips. “There,” he motioned, his mouth twitching as though he was struggling to keep a straight face.

Your lips formed into a pout as you pathetically felt around your face. “I was just trying to have a moment with you — you know what, whatever!” you fussed dramatically as you wiped your face, realizing a moment too late that you’d used the back of your bandaged hand. You looked down at the red stains now soaking into the gauze. “Spaghetti sauce,” you whispered defeatedly, glancing up at the archer.

Daryl was still for a moment before his face softened, a deep, rumbling laugh coming from his chest — the sound so rare it immediately caught you off guard.

And so you sat back in your seat, fondly watching the archer, desperately wanting to savor the fleeting moment.

Daryl’s gaze caught yours and his laugh faded, in its place a small, somewhat sad smile. His features settled after a moment before he lowered his head — you couldn’t place the emotion he was suddenly exuding, but it seemed to resemble something like embarrassment.

For letting his tough exterior slip? For allowing a moment of joy to overcome him?

You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you’d give anything — anything — to soothe his bruised and weary soul.

You regarded him carefully, studying his features under the dimmed kitchen light — his guarded eyes, focused downward, his pressed lips, only parting when he brought the side of his thumb between them, the faint scar above his right eyebrow, peeking through the hair that fell over his face.

Then without thinking, you reached forward.

You didn’t miss the way Daryl flinched at your sudden movement, his entire body going rigid. You faltered, pushing past the unexpected heartache you felt. Your outstretched fingers hovered between you before you extended your reach, gently brushing back the hair that covered the archer’s eyes. “There,” you whispered, a somber smile flickering across your lips.

A beat of stillness passed as Daryl’s gaze searched yours, clearly caught off guard but a look in his eyes you had never seen before.

You exhaled, hoping the archer couldn’t hear the shakiness within your breath as you leaned back. “I —” you breathed quietly, attempting to collect yourself. “I should probably get some sleep,” you murmured, pushing past the lump in your throat, afraid of what would happen if you spent one more second with such little space between you.

“Mhm,” Daryl mumbled, nodding once, his expression unreadable though the air between you was buzzing — practically electric — every nerve ending in your body feeling as though they’d been set ablaze. It was as though there was some sort of magnetic pull, drawing you together, the distance between you becoming smaller and smaller until —

The front door suddenly splintered opened, you and Daryl simultaneously jumping to your feet at the intrusion, heavy breaths mirroring each other as you spun towards the noise.

Acting on pure instinct, Daryl yanked his hunting knife from the sheath hanging from his belt, taking a defensive step forward, part of his body automatically moving to shield you.

But when Sasha came into view, storming past the kitchen and up the stairs without a second glance, you let out the breath you’d been holding, your head dropping into your hands as your cheeks flushed, the moment prior finally registering.

What the fuck was that.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Daryl slowly retract his knife, slipping it back into its sheath. You snuck a glance at him, his body so still you weren’t even sure he was breathing.

You dropped your hands with a huff, carefully maneuvering around the archer without touching him, keeping your gaze forward as you slowly walked to the kitchen doorway. You paused once you reached the entrance, turning around to glance back at Daryl, who remained frozen in place.

“Uh,” you murmured awkwardly, gnawing on your bottom lip for a moment, trying to push past the fuzziness you felt in your stomach. “I’m — I’m gonna head to bed. Uh, thank you —“ you held up your bandaged hand. “Thank you for this,” you finished, awkwardly waving at the archer.

Daryl’s eyes remained fixed on the far wall, motionless, avoiding your gaze completely.

You sighed quietly, feeling like a fool for whatever had transpired before — and though you knew you should’ve just gone straight to bed, you couldn’t help the next words that came tumbling from your lips. “I’m sorry — shit, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean — you and I —“ you huffed a breath, throwing your hands up. “Damn it, I don’t know. I’m just — I’m sorry.”

You were mortified — even more so when Daryl barely even flinched at your words, acting as though he hadn’t even heard them at all. You sighed quietly, turning to leave when suddenly, the archer spoke.

“Y/N?” his voice seemed thick, like it’d caught in his throat.

You locked eyes with him from over your shoulder, your heart beating a fraction faster. “Hm?” you hummed, not trusting your voice.

He was silent for what seemed like forever until he straightened, as if he was attempting to build some courage, steeling himself for whatever he was about to say. “Ya don’t ever gotta apologize ta’ me,” he rumbled simply.

You let his words settle, the intent behind them more meaningful than you could even comprehend in that moment. A small smile grew across your lips as you nodded slowly, a familiar heat flushing across your features. “Goodnight, Daryl,” you whispered, pushing away from the doorway and towards the stairs.

And as your foot landed on the first step, you heard a soft mumble echo from the other room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

A/N: So...how did y’all like this one!?

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[jeonsjiddies]

right where you want me (m) | pjm

summary - nothing was getting you off anymore, no matter how hard you tried. Luckily, your neighbor Jimin was happy to help.

rating- explicit 18+

word count- 3680

pairing- jimin x reader

genre- smut 

Warnings: rough sex, spanking, oral (female recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

a/n thank you so much to @sweetnspicy93​ for beta reading and helping me you’re amazing 

“Mmm.. Jimin! Fuck!” you moaned, the familiar fire burning deep in your belly.

You worked yourself closer to release, one hand pumping the vibrator in and out of your aching hole while the other circled your clit. You were teetering on the edge, so close to release, images of Jimin’s ass in his slacks from when he’d dressed up the night before flitted through your mind. You imagined your heels digging into that plump bottom, legs wrapped around his torso while he fucked you senseless. 

You could almost feel the weight of his body on yours, could almost imagine he was really there with you, if it weren’t for the buzzing noise coming from between your thighs. You tried imagining that Jimin was using the toy on you instead, but you could already feel your orgasm retreating as your fantasy dissolved and reality washed over you like a splash of cold water. You’d been so close this time… until it died away, leaving you unsatisfied. Again. 

You groan in frustration for probably the 100th night in a row. Laying in your bed with your vibrator in hand just wasn’t doing the trick. Nothing seemed to do the trick anymore. You’d tried Tinder hookups, you’d tried the detachable shower head, probably 15 different sex toys, and nothing was getting you off anymore. You were convinced your pussy was broken.

On the verge of tears, you chucked the useless toy against the wall with a thud, and it hit the floor and split open, batteries rolling in different directions.You watched them roll away and sighed, pulling your pajama shorts back up and accepting defeat. 

You weren’t sure why you even tried anymore. It was clear you’d probably never get to orgasm again. Your problem began when your new neighbor moved in next door. It was 3 and a half months ago, and one look at the man had you weak in the knees. He radiated sex appeal.  From his skin tight jeans that showcased his perfect ass to his flowing, see-through white top unbuttoned about halfway, teasing you with defined abs, to his piercing eyes and the plushest lips you’d ever seen in your life. 

Even the way he walked made arousal pool in your panties. He knew he was sexy, he had the toned body of a dancer and his movements were graceful and confident. When he’d directed his pearly white smile at you, you were a goner. That was the day that Park Jimin had ruined you.

You’d gotten to know Jimin a little better over the past few months. You both left for work at the same time and would walk to your cars together, chatting about anything and nothing at all. Sometimes he’d get up early to bring you coffee or you’d bring him some cookies you’d made. You were friendly enough, but you did try to keep a little bit of distance since being anywhere within ten feet of him had you feral and dizzy.

If Jimin noticed your obsession with him, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you like everything was normal and asked if you’d caught the newest episode of The Masked Singer. Jimin was kind, he was funny, he was polite, and he was devastatingly handsome. Every new fact you learned about him only made you like him more, want him more.

How many nights did you lay alone in your bed, fantasizing about Jimin and the way his hips moved? How much stamina he must have? He’d dance for hours at the local studio, you knew he could go several rounds. He had so much control over his body, you loved imagining how that would play into how well he could fuck your brains out. Pretty well, you guessed.

Just this morning, he’d offered to give you a ride to work, saying that he had a dancing class to teach nearby at a new venue. You’d agreed, not wanting to be rude, and also it was good for the environment, right? Cutting on gas emissions. That was why you wanted to get in his car. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You immediately regretted that decision. Jimin’s car was very nice and clean, but it was small. His thick, juicy thighs were mere centimeters from your own and his hand brushed against yours whenever he had to change gears. Jimin's car smelled like him- prim and proper with a hint of his cologne. Sitting so close to him, completely enveloped in the scent of him in the small space.. you could almost imagine him leaning your seat back and having his way with you in his car. You had to rub your thighs together to get some comfort from the pooling moisture between your thighs. This was going to be a major test of your self control.

You tried to focus on the tranquil turn of the steering wheel in Jimin's hands instead. Jimin was a smooth driver, which you weren’t surprised about. It seemed like you couldn’t find a single thing he didn’t excel at. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over to you every so often though, making your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. Jimin was paying more attention to you than the road and didn’t notice the speed bump. He didn’t slow down in time and drove right over it, jostling the whole car. His arm shot out to shield you from the impact, his hand landing right above your breast. 

Your brain seemed to short circuit, your eyes widened and you stared at Jimin’s hand. He was frozen in shock and made no attempt to remove his hold on your body. You could barely breathe, the heat from his skin soaking through your shirt had shivers racing through your spine. You were vibrating with sexual tension, losing your mind. When he finally regained his senses, he yanked his arm back, fingers accidentally grazing across your nipple. Your body jolted and heat rushed between your thighs. If you didn’t get out of his car soon you were going to attack him.

“I’m… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“It’s okay.” you tried to make your voice sound even, but it came out breathless. 

You thanked Jimin once you’d exited the car and politely refused his offer to pick you up after work, lying that you had plans with a friend. You’d spent all day at work horny as you’d 8ever been, tortured for eight hours with sticky thighs and an unbearable yearning between your legs, which was what brought you here, denied yet another orgasm because you just wanted Jimin between your thighs, not that stupid plastic imitation. 

Even now you couldn’t stop shivering when you thought back to how close he was, how good he smelled… you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining his sweaty body after dance class… You punched your pillow with a loud whine before you heard a heavy knock at your door. You made your way to the front door and opened it, immediately being pushed back into the wall with a pair of soft, plushy lips on yours.

You only knew it was Jimin by his smell, and the small flash you’d seen of him before he’d basically attacked you.You froze for a moment, shocked and reeling. Jimin was kissing you. The same Jimin who had consumed your thoughts and dreams for months. Those soft, pink lips were pressed against your own and it felt better than you could’ve ever imagined. You kissed him back with fervor, though you weren’t really sure what brought this on, you weren’t about to tell him no. Live out your fantasies first, ask questions later. His kisses left your lips and moved over to the shell of your ear.

“You know our bedrooms share a wall, right?” he purred, “I’ve been listening to you fuck yourself for months, calling out my name.” 

“What?” you squeaked in embarrassment, trying to cling to the minimal amount of brain function you had left while his lips worked their way down your neck, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was trying to get to know you, do this right. But I’m so tired of listening to you not get off.” he hissed. “None of those boys knew how to fuck you right. I’m going to help you baby.”

Quiet whimpers left your lips when he began rocking his hips into yours, his hard member grinding against your core. Jimin pulled his lips from your skin and looked into your eyes. You saw his pupils were blown with lust. His usually perfectly styled hair fell into his eyes and he shook it away, breathing just as ragged as your own. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” he spoke evenly, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“Please don’t stop.” you whispered, swallowing nervously.

Jimin smiled, his eyes burning with desire as he backed you up towards your room, shoving you down on the bed and crawling until his body hovered over yours. His lips reattaching to your skin had your hips bucking up into his, desperate for any kind of friction. You probably should’ve been embarrassed at how desperate you seemed but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when your wildest fantasies were being played out before your very eyes.

“So impatient.” Jimin tsked, hand sliding up your shirt and under your bra to grasp your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Jimin…” you whined.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Jimin purred in your ear.

“Touch me.” you begged.

“I am.” he teased, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers again.

You whined loudly, rolling your hips up to meet his. 

“Nuh uh, use your words.” he encouraged.

“Please, I want you. Your fingers, your cock, anything. I just need you inside me.” you writhed against him.

“Mmm… good girl.” he smirked, making his way down your body and leaving a trail of love bites.

His skilled mouth sucked and nipped at your skin like he was a professional. Jimin instinctively knew how to work your body, how to draw the neediest moans from your pretty lips. Your body was on fire, and he was your gasoline, fueling the blaze the closer he got to where you wanted, where you needed him. His fingers gripped the elastic of your pajama shorts, tugging them off and tossing them aside.

He peppered hot kisses along your panty-covered slit, deciding to tease you rather than give you what you wanted. Jimin wanted you begging for him, needy and desperate.Jimin wanted to get back at you. For all the sleepless nights he lay awake listening to your moans on the other side of the wall, calling to him like a siren. He relieved himself more times than he can count to just your breathy moans and was left wanting more. He intended to drive you to the point of insanity before he let you have your release. He wanted to make sure no one would ever be good enough for you again, you’d only want him. No other man would ever touch you again.

He ran his tongue along the lace of your panties, dampening the already sticky fabric. His barely there touches were making you dizzy and you whimpered, lacing your fingers through his thick, soft hair. Tears were forming at the edges of your vision, so desperate for release you hadn’t found in months, and Jimin’s touches were ghosting along your skin raising goosebumps in their wake but they weren’t enough.

Finally, he pushed your panties aside and his tongue dipped into your heat. You almost cried out in relief when you felt his muscle sliding along your walls and licking designs on your clit. Your back arched off the bed and he used one hand to hold your hips in place while he continued to drive you mad with his skillful tongue. 

He slipped a finger deep in your hole, curling it and hitting your gspot with every flick of his wrist. The way Jimin worked your body put all your Tinder dates to shame. You knew he was a sexpert upon first glance but you didn’t realize he could perform actual magic between your thighs. He added a second finger, then a third, stretching your walls. 

Jimin pumped his fingers in and out of you at the perfect rhythm, alternating the timing of his fingers with the flicks of his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves and you could feel yourself climbing towards your end. Your whines got louder, your cries needier. You couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips against Jimin’s hold.

“Oh, fu- JIMIN!”

Finally, for the first time in months, the sweet blissful, euphoria consumed your body. Jimin’s ministrations sent you over the edge, your orgasm completely consuming your being. You felt like you were ascending out of your body and soaring into the night sky while Jimin worked you through your release. Jimin did not slow down, even as you began to settle from your high.

You attempted to push him away, feeling overly sensitive from your first orgasm in three months, but Jimin was stronger than you, and soon the burning turned to pleasure again, building back up much quicker than the first, and you wriggled beneath Jimin’s hold on your hips. Mere minutes after your first orgasm, another crashed through you, just as intense as the first. Jimin finally relented, leaving a soft peck on your folds as he pulled away from your trembling body. 

His chin covered in your juices, he grinned at you, moving up to place a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and somehow that was erotic enough to create another wave of arousal to gush from your over-sensitive cunt. You moaned into Jimin’s kiss, nipping at his swollen lips. 

“Mmm.. your turn.” you smirked, reaching down and palming at his hardened member, but Jimin stopped you.

“No tonight is about you, baby. We have all the time in the world for that later. I just want to be inside you.” he purred into your ear, nibbling at the skin.

You couldn’t exactly argue with that. You reached down to pull his sweats down his thick, delicious thighs and tossed them aside. He lifted your shirt and sports bra off of you effortlessly, licking his lips at the sight of your nipples peaked and ready for attention. His tongue swiped a bold line across one, then the other, forcing shivers from your fucked out body. You quickly tugged at his boxers, simply unable to wait any longer. 

“Need you. Now.” you panted.

Jimin smirked, shimmying out of his boxers and hovering over you.

His length brushed against your folds and both of you groaned. Jimin’s cock was thick, so hard it looked painful, and dribbling precum from his pretty round tip. Jimin froze, looking like he was about to cry.

“I forgot a condom.” he nearly whimpered.

“I’ve got an IUD.” you assured him, running your fingers through his hair to get the sweaty mess out of his eyes.

“Oh thank god.” he breathed in relief, body shuddering. 

Before you could reply, Jimin was entering you, he just couldn’t hold back anymore. He started off slowly, making sure you could handle the stretch and burn. Your breathless moans of his name made it hard for Jimin to keep control, and soon he was pounding ruthlessly into your soaking cunt. Your headboard bounced against the wall but you couldn’t force yourself to care, not when Jimin felt so good buried inside you.

Jimin seemed to reach places within you that no other man had before, like he was made perfectly for you and you perfectly for him. He fit inside you so well, his cock brushing against your walls was driving you insane. You weren’t sure how he hit that lovely spot inside of you every time, but his expert thrusts hit the best angle every time. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. So wet for me baby.” Jimin grunted as he continued to snap his hips into yours.

“Jimin!” you gasped when his teeth began to nip at your collarbones.

“That’s it baby, say my name… who fucks you this good? Who owns this pussy?” he growled, bringing one hand between your bodies to circle at your clit.

“You, Jimin!” you groaned, body bouncing with the forceful impact of Jimin’s thrusts.

“Louder!” he commanded, his hips snapping harshly while his fingers increased their speed on your nub.

“Fuck, JIMIN!” you screamed. 

“You feel better than I imagined, princess. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to wreck your pretty little pussy? I used to get off with you, you know.” he groaned while his hands found your hair and pulled so your neck was exposed for him to litter hickeys on.

“Oh god.” you moaned at the idea of Jimin alone in his bed, hand wrapped around his cock while he got off to the sound of you getting off to him.

“Mmm… it took everything I had not to come over here and make you cum all over my cock. Your sweet pussy is even tighter and wetter than I’d dreamed. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me.” his voice shook.

Without warning, Jimin flipped you over onto your stomach and started pounding into you from behind, reaching a whole new angle you didn’t even know existed but had your head spinning. You pushed your hips back against his to meet his every thrust. You were jolted out of your blissful state when his hand came and smacked your ass, sending electricity straight to your core.Your pussy clenched around his length and he let out a strangled groan.

“You like that, huh? Such a dirty girl. How many times did you fuck yourself without me?” he questioned innocently.

“Ummm… I’m not sure.” you confessed. “I haven’t gotten off since you moved in though.” 

“Hmmm.. then how many Tinder dates did you have instead of coming to find me?” he wondered.

“Ummm, 4?” you answered, unsure of why he was asking about your other sexual partners while he was balls deep inside you.

“Mmm… you’ve been a bad girl. You should’ve just come to me. Count.” he ordered, his palm coming down swiftly on your bottom again.

“Ah, one.” you moaned quietly, clenching around him again.

“Mmm.. you like this a little too much.” Jimin chuckled, bringing a harsher slap down on your ass, then soothing the red skin with a gentle brush of his fingers. 

“Two.” you whimpered blissfully. 

Jimin loved the way your skin turned red under his efforts, and he loved the way you tightened around him every time he delivered a spank to the soft skin of your bottom. He admired it for a moment, fingers tenderly grazing over the skin before he unexpectedly left another harsh slap on your skin. 

Your body jolted forward with the impact and you groaned low in your throat at the blissful burning on your backside.

“Three.” left your lips in a whisper as your high drew closer with Jimin’s actions.

His pace didn’t slow down while he “punished” you in the best way, and you were just on the edge of oblivion when he delivered the final slap. You screamed as your high washed over you, even more intense than the first two, and Jimin’s thrusts got sloppier as he met his own end soon after you. He worked you both through your orgasms until you were shaking and tears were falling from the corners of your eyes.  Jimin collapsed next to you, trying to steady his breathing just as you were.

“Are you okay?” he asked between his deep breaths.

“So okay.” you sighed happily, a small giggle rising from your throat. “Ugh, it feels so good to finally cum.”

“Mmm… you’re so sexy when you do.” he grinned, licking his lips suggestively.

You covered your face to hide your blush and he only laughed, crawling off the bed and going to grab a damp washcloth. He returned and knelt between your thighs, running the cloth gently along your folds to clean up the mix of your juices and his cum seeping out of your spent pussy. You whimpered at the overstimulation, and Jimin tossed the cloth into your hamper.

You reached out for him and tugged him back into bed with you, and he wrapped his arms around your frame, holding you against his chest. Your breathing was still labored but feeling Jimin’s body against your own felt more important than oxygen in that moment. He stroked your hair gently with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you.

“I hope you realize I’m not going to let you go now.” you smiled into his chest. “There’s no way anyone is ever going to top that.”

Jimin laughed, a deep, full belly laugh and pulled you closer into his embrace, kissing the top of your head. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fuck you whenever you want.” he grinned. “But I really would like to take you on a date sometime.”

“I’d really like that.” you blushed, looking up to meet his eyes.

Jimin bit his lip to try and hide the smile that threatened to spread on his swollen, deliciously red lips. You let yours free though, grinning up at him like a kid on Christmas. Jimin’s resolve broke and his smile spread from ear to ear.

“Where would you want to go?” he asked, idly playing with your fingers.

“Hmmm...  I don’t know. Somewhere lowkey but fun? I want to get to know you better.” you hummed thoughtfully, watching his expression.

“Okay… maybe… the amusement park? Then dinner?” he offered. “Or would you rather go to a movie? Or we could-” he began.

You giggled and pressed your finger to his plush lips.

“It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as you’re there. You’ve got me right where you want me.”

[thegreatestofheck]

i love you ≬ JJ Maybank ≬

request -  If you do song request, can you do a JJ one based on i love you by Billie Eilish? Angsty please :))

warnings - angst. swearing, cheating, unhealthy relationship synopsis - your relationship with JJ had always been rocky, built on a mutual desire for affection. that doesn’t mean he would never break your heart.  a/n - anon, ask and you shall receive ;)  (i’m an idiot and didn’t give this a title last night before I queue’d it, oops) 

                                                             ***

It's not true Tell me I've been lied to

Your heart shattered in your own hands. You watched as the still bleeding pieces fell to the ground, mixing with the dirt and the dust beneath your feet. 

JJ stood in front of you, his hands out in front of him too, as if his own heart was sitting there like yours was. But his heart was in his chest; safe and warm and still beating. 

“What the fuck?” you breathed. You could have said a thousand things, some of them angry, some of them sad, some of them numb. But that was all you could come up with.

“y/n, I-” JJ took a step forward and you shot him a look that told him if he moved another muscle, he was dead where he stood. So, he stopped in his tracks and swallowed. “Please, just...hear me out.” 

“Hear you out?” Your voice broke as a thickness tightened your throat. Your nose burned as your eyes filled with tears. Trying to blink them away, you closed your mouth and gave a shake of your head. “You don’t get to say anything else. Not after what you did.” 

“It wasn’t what you think.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” you nearly shrieked, your hands shaking as you lifted them toward your head. “How could it not be what I thought? What I saw with my own two fucking eyes?”

JJ covered his face with his hands. 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re drunk off your tits right now, aren’t you?” You asked, eyes narrowing. JJ was silent. “Aren’t you?” 

“That’s besides the point.” 

“So, just because you’re drunk that excuses you....” You shifted your lips, fighting with your tongue over the shape of the words you were trying to say. 

“No, it doesn’t.” He took a step forward and you flinched, but you didn’t have the strength to give him any more hateful looks. “It doesn’t and I’m sorry. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

At his words, you collapsed to the ground, your knees completely giving out beneath you.

Crying isn't like you

You hit the soft dirt beneath you with a muffled thud, a strangled sob tearing from your throat. Your fingers dug into the dirt, part of you hoping to pull out what remained of your broken heart and piece it back together again. 

It wasn’t until you felt droplets of water hit your hands that you realized you were crying. But then it came like a hurricane, pouring out of you like a beast that had been rattling at the cages for so long. 

You had seen all the signs, of course you had. You knew exactly what you had signed up for when you started dating the infamous JJ Maybank. But you turned a blind eye to it, hoping that somehow, he would be different with you around. That the drinking and the smoking and the girls would all fall on the back burner and it would just be you. 

You were an idiot to think that would be the case. 

Digging your fingers deeper into the earth, you squeezed your eyes shut. Another sob came from you mouth and you dropped your chin to your chest, admitting defeat. 

JJ stood there, unmoving. He couldn’t recall a single time he had seen you cry since he had met you months ago. But here you were, dissolving right in front of him and it was his fault. 

JJ stepped closer by a single foot and when he noticed that you didn’t react at all, he took another. He stepped closer and closer to you until he loomed just above you and then he lowered himself to his knees. 

What the hell did I do?

He put his arms around you slowly, afraid that at any second you would scream and shove him away. But all you did was cry. 

When his arms were all the way around you, you let out another, heartbroken sob. He waited awkwardly until you lifted your hands from the dirt suddenly to cling to his arms like they were the only thing keeping you on this earth. He pulled you in to his chest and you let him, barely aware of what you were allowing him to do. 

You dug your fingernails into his skin, but he didn’t make a sound, he just held you close. 

“What did I do?” You sobbed, barely capable of breathing at all. “What the hell did I do?” 

“Nothing, baby,” he whispered to you, his voice breaking as he brushed your matted hair from your eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Then...why? Why, JJ?” 

He hesitated, giving you a tight squeeze. 

“Cause I’m fucked up. And you...are so good. Too good. And I know I don’t deserve you. And I had to ruin it and I’m so sorry.” 

You tightened your grip on his arm, the pain in your chest not easing at his words. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop your endless sobs and you couldn’t get a single proper breath into your lungs. 

JJ ran his fingers delicately through your hair, not even tugging when he reached the knots.

This might have been easier if it was you fault. If you hadn’t loved him enough or if you hadn’t given him what he needed. If you had been a pain or a bother or made him angry. If you had hid the liquor and cussed him out when he came back to you drunk. If you had taken all his blunts and thrown his lighter in the trashcan. If you had made a louder fuss when he flirted or danced with other girls. If you had...if you had...if you...

But you did everything right and he cheated anyway. It wasn’t your fault, so why did it feel like you messed up somewhere?

Never been the type to Let someone see right through

You had spent your entire life shutting people out, keeping everyone at an arm’s length away. The closer someone was to you, the more they could hold over your head, the more they could control you. And you were tired of being controlled. 

It was your mom who raised you as a puppet. Every word you ever spoke before you turned 15 was a direct quote from her own mouth. She chose what you dressed, who you talked to, what you studied in school, which sports you played. She made every decision in your life and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

After she died, you vowed that no one would ever hold that kind of power over you again. No one could break you if you didn’t show them you were made of glass. 

But then you met JJ. Every second that he was around, dropping his pathetic one liners and trailing his tantalizing fingers over your skin, your walls cracked little by little. You weren’t ready to admit they were crumbling until you were already his, wrapped so tightly around his finger that there was no hope of letting go. 

From the moment he first smiled at you, the light of the campfire illuminating the sapphire in his eyes, to the moment he broke your heart to pieces and even after, you were his. 

Up all night on another red eye

The world was dark as you sat awake in his bed. It wasn’t really his bed. It was John B’s bed. But this was the place that JJ always brought you. Back to this bed. 

He was asleep beside you, breathing heavily. You had spent enough nights awake in this same place to know that this was the very beginnings of a nightmare. You could wake him now, stop it before it started, but you did that once and he hit you accidentally. You couldn’t hold it against him, it wasn’t his fault, but you didn’t want to risk it. 

Your legs were still sore. With JJ, you were always sore. It was a different feeling that you were used to. But it was this part that you enjoyed the most. The not being alone at night, sleeping in an empty bed with nothing but the rustling leaves and the creaking house to comfort you. That’s probably the same reason JJ liked having you here with him. 

You looked up at the ceiling until JJ’s heavily breathing became quiet whimpers. Rolling onto your side, you propped yourself up onto one elbow and put your hand on the side of his face.

“Baby,” you whispered, leaning in close, your lips grazing his cheek. “You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re safe.” 

He jerked once, but you only held him tighter, pressing your forehead to his temple. 

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” you told him quietly. His eyes opened, but he wasn’t truly awake, not yet. “No one will ever hurt you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

JJ groaned and blinked rapidly. You felt his breathing go ragged, panic settling in for a few seconds before he realized who was speaking to him. He relaxed after a few moments. 

“y/n?” He murmured, turning toward your face. You smiled.

“It’s me.” 

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, honey. You didn’t.” 

“Oh, good.”

He was already falling back into his deep sleep. You held him close, letting him mimic your own steady breathing until he was once sleeping once again. Humming quietly to yourself, brushing your thumb across his cheek, you wondered if you would be able to coax yourself to sleep as easily as you did him.

I wish we never learned to fly

But this is where all the love got you; a shattered heart and a sore throat. 

If you hadn’t let your walls fall down so easily, if you hadn’t taken that step off the cliff and unfurled your wings, maybe you wouldn’t be here now. 

You were Icarus and JJ was your sun. You were too desperate to fly and he burned too hot. There had never been any chance that the two of you would make it out in one piece. 

”Baby, I’m sorry,” JJ said again. You tightened your jaw and let your eyes flutter shut. “I don’t want to hurt you ever again. I’m sorry.” 

”Why did we do this to ourselves?” You asked, your voice broken from so much sobbing. “Why did we do this?” 

JJ didn’t say anything. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. You knew he wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. It didn’t take long for you to realize that he wasn’t going to say anything, so you held on tighter to his arm and he pulled you in closer. 

You could hear the pounding of his heart. His chest rose and fell just like it did when he had a nightmare, only this time, the nightmare was yours. 

Slowly, you started to breathe again. The tears on your face started to dry and JJ brushed away the remaining salt as his thumb grazed gently across the skin of your cheek. 

For a moment, he almost thought you had fallen asleep. Your eyes closed and breath finally steady, JJ thought this was the calmest he had ever seen you. You were so often wound up, thinking about everyone else other than yourself. Constantly worrying about him and everything at home that you barely slept at night. And now here you were, resting soundly in his arms.   Maybe we should just try To tell ourselves a good lie

“Lie to me,” you said suddenly, reminding him that you were awake. Your words startled him enough that he stopped his rhythmic stroking of your face. 

“What?” He asked, looking down at you. You squeezed your eyes tighter together and nestled further against his chest. 

“Lie to me,” you repeated, feel another tear slip down your cheek. “I don’t care what you say. Just...lie to me.” 

JJ let out a breath through his nose. 

“I’ll never hurt you,” he whispered. Your stomach seized and the muscles of your face flinched. “I’m yours completely. Nothing will ever come between us. You’re safe here.”

I didn't mean to make you cry

You could feel his tears against your scalp. There was a part of you that wanted to sit up and wipe away his tears and tell him that it was okay, that you forgave him. But there was another part, the bitter and angry part that knew that he didn’t deserve your forgiveness or your love. 

And both of those parts mingled into something that you couldn’t place and it  weighed down, keeping you where you were. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” JJ whispered and his voice broke. “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

For a moment, you almost thought he was telling you the truth. 

Maybe won't you take it back Say you were tryna make me laugh

There wasn’t a person alive who made you laugh like JJ did. With his strange antics and his stupid jokes and his constant idiocy, there was very little that JJ could do that wouldn’t make you laugh. 

You remembered the first time he made you laugh, all those months ago while you stood in line waiting for your ice cream. He said some stupid joke to his friend from all the way across the small shop. All you did was laugh quietly to yourself, but it was enough. Ever since that day, he had his eyes fixed on you. 

He told you jokes, he made you laugh, and he made you cry. 

And right now, you wished none of it had happened. You had asked him to tell you lies, to make you believe something that wasn’t true, and part of you was starting to think that was what he had been doing from the beginning. 

It had all been one big, massive joke that went too far. He was just trying to make you laugh. 

And nothing has to change today You didn't mean to say "I love you"

“I love you.” 

His final lie. A wave of numbness washed over you. The pain in your chest eased and you could feel your heart start to beat again. Pulling away from him slowly, you looked him dead in the eye. He dropped his hand from your cheek and let it fall into his lap. 

“Say it again,” you said, a clearness in your voice that hadn’t been there before. “Say it again.” 

“I love you.” Again, you almost believed him. If you could get the image of that girl in his bed out of your head, the very same bed that you often shared, if you could forget about her and the ecstasy on JJ’s face at her mere presence, maybe you could have believed him.

I love you and I don't want to

You wouldn’t lie to yourself. There was no point. In the months since you had known JJ Maybank, you had fallen helplessly in love with him. He was all you had in this dark and unforgiving world. You couldn’t give that up.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, lowering your head, almost in defeat. You watched the muscles on JJ’s face twitch as he examined every inch of you, waiting for you to take it back and say you didn’t mean it. 

But you did. You meant it and you couldn’t take it back. 

You made your choice. Even if he was lying, you chose to believe him. You had to. It was all you could do to keep on breathing. Without JJ, you would be alone again, stranding wingless on the solid ground, trapped in a cage that you made yourself, alone in an empty bed with no company save for the rustling leaves and creaking house. 

It was a terrifying thought. 

You never wanted to be alone ever again and if JJ was your solution, no matter how badly it ached, you weren’t going to walk away from it. From him. 

The smile that you gave me Even when you felt like dying

It took JJ a few moments to decide you weren’t going to take it back. But when he did, a tearful smile twitched its way up his lips. You looked up at him then, tears making clear tracks down his grimy cheeks, his pink lips still unsure, unknowing as they smiled at you. You caught a glimpse of his teeth beneath those honey sweet lips and, try as you might, you couldn’t help but see them as fangs. 

JJ put a gentle hand behind your neck and pulled you toward him, pressing his forehead to yours. The breath he released was ragged. You shut your eyes once again as he shook ever so slightly, still uncertain. Pursing your lips, you lifted one of your hands and placed it over his wrist, accepting his gesture. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew he was smiling. 

And to your surprise, so were you. 

We fall apart as it gets dark I'm in your arms in Central Park

JJ moved his hand from behind your neck to just under your jaw as he could tilt your face up toward his. He didn’t give you time to even open your eyes before he pressed his lips to yours. At first, it was almost like a promise. You weren’t sure exactly what it was he was promising, but it felt sincere. 

Then it became needy, like it always did. JJ flicked his tongue along your bottom lip, pulling you in even closer. That hunger that always burned within him came out whenever you were around and now was no different. 

By his touch, you knew he needed you just as badly as you needed him. He couldn’t stand to be alone either. And those girls he had on the side and the booze he hid under the pillow, they weren’t enough to fill the void in his chest. You were. 

Your touch, your words, your presence. You were what he needed, like a medication that started as something good but slowly became an addiction. He couldn’t shake you. 

Everything was falling apart. The facade was fading. Any mirrors or glass barriers that the two of you had put up to pretend like whatever was going on in your relationship was perfectly normal had long since collapsed. But it didn’t matter now because you were in his arms once again. The only place you ever needed to be was right here. 

Maybe you were both falling apart, but it was better to do it together than alone. 

There's nothing you could do or say I can't escape the way, I love you

You had never lied to JJ before. Not even the little white lies that everyone always told. You could never bring yourself to do it. You would never be able to believe a single word that came out of his mouth, but he would always be able to believe you. 

“I love you,” you said again as you pulled away for a breath of air. JJ kept you close, foreheads still together, mouths only a breath apart. He breathed heavily and his hand tightened at your words. “I love you.” 

You were crying again, silent tears running from your eyes. You hoped he wouldn’t see them. 

“I love you,” he replied, a mantra you knew he would tell himself over and over and over again even though the words were dead to him. Whatever it took to keep you by his side. 

“I love you.” 

I don't want to, but I love you

[xiaomoxu]

West Moon (坠月之宴) Chapter 2 Part.ONE

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A story from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the AU (Alternated Universe) - 坠月之宴 West Moon Story.

Read the previous chapter here

There’s some sub-chapter which full of battle stage so I didn’t put it here.

Stories under the cut-

Chapter 2-1

You are my only dream.

The wind passed through the bamboo forest that day,

I passed by a good dream.

Want to hear the sound

But he strayed into a scene in spring.

It broke the black city.

This time,

Who disturbed whom?

The jade chess piece fell on the chessboard with a crisp sound and broke the silence around.

I opened my eyes in the mist, and the sky light had dimly lit up for unknown time.

The morning breeze brushed over the bamboo leaves, blowing away the mist, and the green lake in the distance also had its starting point ripples.

The stone tables and benches are still the same, but the pavilions surrounded by bamboo shadows make me feel a bit strange.

MC: Strange. Where am I?

At the last moment of my memory, obviously still staying in the backyard of the wine shop.

I propped up and looked down at the table that had just fallen. The magic qin that was originally placed on the stone table was gone, only a criss-cross chessboard.

On the chessboard, black and white pieces are clearly distinguished, and white pieces are surrounded by black pieces.

There was no smell of demons around, I faintly breathed a sigh of relief, and began to wonder if I was in a dream.

The situation in this dream seems to be familiar, as if I have seen it many times in the past.

During the three years of deep sleep, my consciousness has been trapped in long dreams for some reason. The blurry and chaotic dreams are like fragments of colored glaze, which cannot be put together into a complete picture.

Sometimes I traveled in the wilderness, sometimes in the purgatory, every dream, whether absurd or cruel, is a long torment.

But occasionally there will be moments when the breeze comes, like this pavilion.

MC: Will I see that person again this time?

Inexplicably, I have a kind of expectation in my heart that I can't express

There was no one around, so I picked up the white piece on the side of the chessboard and placed it according to the memory in my dream.

The person who played against me doesn't know where it came from

In my dream, the five senses are not working at all times. I don't remember his appearance very much, but I still remember a little voice.

Dreamer: You messed up like this

His voice seemed to sound in my ears again, and I was slightly lost. The chess piece between my fingers had just landed on a corner of the chessboard, and a gust of breeze suddenly passed over the bamboo forest behind me.

??: If you play in such a mess, you will ruin the game.

A gentle voice rang in the ear, as if overlapping with the voice in the memory.

I turned around subconsciously, but a pair of hands came from behind and surrounded me.

The wide sleeves engraved overturned the chess game in front of him, and the black and white chess pieces rolled to the ground, making a jade-like sound.

The temperature that was about to fit behind my back came through the thin clothes. I was shocked, suppressing the exclamation from my mouth.

MC: ... It's you.

With a chuckle in my ear, the temperature that surrounded me left.

Mysterious Man: We meet again.

There is a faint smile on the corners of his lips, and his gradually clear face gradually overlaps with the figure in the dream

MC: It's you who helped me repel those monsters. Who are you?

I squeezed my sleeves tightly and looked calmly at the person sitting opposite.

He didn't explain, letting his sleeves skimmed over the messy chess pieces on the table, he twisted a black piece casually.

Although the hidden energy in his body is strange, but he has no devilish energy in his body, and he does not look like a bad person...

But maybe because of the little bit of familiarity, or maybe because he saved me once, I didn't feel nervous.

MC: Sorry, I didn't mean to play this game of chess...

Mysterious Man: How can you conclude that this game of chess is mine just because I am here?

I was choked by his words, turned around and had to ask again.

MC: Where exactly is this?

Mysterious Man: Don't you know it?

He did not directly affirm my guess, but I still feel that he seems to be suggesting something.

MC: Why... you appear in my dream?

Mysterious Man: How do you know this is your dream, maybe you broke into my dream?

I froze for a moment, and met his dim eyes.

Those eyes were like cold pools with no bottom, but just a moment of looking at each other gave me a suffocating feeling of oppression.

But he casually continued to play with the chess pieces.

Mysterious Man: Or, the owner of the dream is not you and me.

Hearing what he said, I seemed to really feel the prying eyes in the dark.

"Shooㅡ"

The abrupt sound made my whole body tremble, and I turned back abruptly, but only a bamboo leaf fell to the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief. A thin layer of sweat had formed on my back, but the uncomfortable feeling had not disappeared.

MC: When will this dream end?

I desperately wanted to leave the dream, but the only insider hid the chess pieces and placed them on the messy chessboard.

Mysterious Man: Can you play chess?

MC: .... I understand a little.

He looked up at me with a smile but didn't reveal my clumsy chess skills.

Mysterious Man: There is a way of talking in chess called "raid".

Mysterious Man: Once the catastrophe occurs, the two sides will be trapped in a cycle of incomprehension. Therefore, after the raid, one party can pick up one son, and the other must make another move before the raid can be resolved.

Although I don't know how to play chess, I know a little about these terms, but I don't know why he mentioned this.

Mysterious Man: The catastrophe in this game is you.

I heard it inexplicably, but it seemed that I knew what he was talking about, and looked at him more defensively.

MC: When you will tell me your identity?

He did not answer, playing with the last sunspot on his fingertips. When I looked down, I realized that the previous game had been restored by him, but my white piece was missing.

Mysterious Man: This game of chess cannot be returned.

He sighed softly and threw the black stone between his fingers to the chessboard.

With a light "break" in, something was pierced.

Like a calm lake being broken by flying stones, the ripples in front of my eyes are like dissolving ink and still water.

I can't see his appearance, only the figure blurred by the waves seems to be reflected on the other side of the water.

Mysterious Man: We will meet again soon. By then, you will know who am I.

His voice gradually dissipated, and the cyan layers in front of me faded away. I woke up like a dream. I shook my dizzy head and found that the person before me was gone.

And there was no such splendid bamboo forest and water pool around. Fortunately, I was in the courtyard of the wine shop, and the magic qin was quietly placed on the stone table.

The sun in the sky has just risen, and from time to time we hear the singing of birds and the shouts of the morning vendors in the deep alleys in the distance.

MC: Was it a dream just now?

I rubbed my swollen temples, still echoing what the man said.

What he meant by the robbery in the game...what exactly did he mean?

Before I could think of a reason, a small shouting came from behind me.

When I turned around, the lady boss was looking at me in surprise.

Boss lady: MC, why are you here early in the morning?

Boss lady: ...Did you sit here all night?

Suddenly seeing a real figure appear in front of my eyes, I couldn't help but lose consciousness for a moment, and the lady boss suddenly saw that something was wrong with me.

Boss lady: What happened?

MC: Nothing, I was a little tired recently and fell asleep accidentally.

I shook my head, afraid that she was worried, so I concealed the bizarre dream.

Boss lady: The weather hasn't warmed up yet, what should I do if you catch a cold? Go back to your room and freshen up!

My mind gradually returned to clarity, and I nodded to her.

Whether it is this mysterious dream, fragments, or maybe the puzzles in the magic qin. For me now, they are hard to solve.

I took the magic qin back to the room and locked it, changed my clothes and planned to find the master.

After all, now only the master can tell me how to take out the fragments.

Chapter 2-2

When I walked out of Three Dreams Square, the sky was already bright.

The street is bustling today, and the crowds are rushing in the same direction.

The golden sun shines over the glazed dome on the palace building. The water fell on the tall white platform standing in the far north of the city.

That is the tallest and most sacred building here.

My heart was slightly still, and then I realized that today is the day of sacrifice for the West Moon.

My steps uncontrollably followed the flow of people to the pure white platform, but an indescribable complex emotion surged in my heart.

The worship of West Moon Kingdom has always been presided over by the master. And I will also stand on that high platform during the annual ceremony.

Suddenly, there was a burst of exclamation and noise from the crowd. At the same time, the vigorous bell rang from the northernmost end and awakened the entire city.

Commoners: It's an envoy of God!

My heart jumped suddenly and I raised my head. As expected, there was a man in profound clothes standing on the towering hidden spirit platform.

It's Master!

The lingering sound of the bell dissipated, and everyone's voices fell silent, except for the hunting sound of the dark blue curtain being blown by the wind.

First, the hundred officials, and then all the people at the banquet bowed down and worshiped, toward the direction.

That tall, sacred and inviolable figure is the only person who can communicate with God in this world, and it is also the belief of West Moon Kingdom.

It is the gods who have guarded this country for hundreds of years since the establishment of this country

I looked at the master's back, and my heart shook slightly.

Master... was also the one who saved my life.

The sacrificial ceremony ended in a solemn sound of bells and drums. Seeing the master's figure leave from the high platform, I wrapped my cloak, passed through the crowd, and continued to the hidden spirit platform.

There was a commotion behind him, and there was a rush of horse hooves galloping in this direction.

Passersby: Hey, girl! Be carefulㅡ

I didn't have time to get back to my senses, and there was a scream of horses behind me, and the sound of horses hooves close at hand, as if it was about to hit me in the next second!

I quickly flashed aside, and the tall horse passed me by, and the turbulent wind almost turned the cap on my head.

In a hurry, I had to saw the teenager on the horse.

The teenager who rides by has a handsome face, and his long hair is also raised high, with a strange color in the daylight.

MC: Why is he?!

I was shocked, I quickly held down the veil, turned and flashed into the dark alley, fearing that the little magic star would notice.

Passersby: The second prince is out of the palace again?

This person has always been arrogant. A few years ago, His Majesty controlled him strictly and would not let him out of the palace easily. How can he let him go on the streets now?

Teenager: What's going on today? I will definitely teach you a lesson when I go back!

The sound of horse hooves finally stopped. I hid behind the crowd and heard the familiar voice sternly scolding the restrained horse, but his tone soon softened again.

Teenager: Don't be afraid, I won't use you to make horse meat hot pot.

MC: This person, as expected, is still the same...

The officers and soldiers in the distance had already rushed over, and I quickly lowered the brim of my hat and flashed into the market with my back facing them.

I don't know how long this worry about being discovered will last.

Fortunately, the sacrifice was still going on, there was no one around, and I came to Master's residence with little effort.

Haven't seen it for three years, the layout here is still the same as I remember.

Except for the necessary living utensils, there is nothing else, spotless, still cold and not like the place where people live.

I lifted my foot and walked in.

The warm sunlight flooded into the room through the window, and a new set of clothes was placed in a tray on the table, neatly folded.

I'm not familiar with the patterns on this dress. There was nostalgia in my heart, and I subconsciously stretched out my hand to touch it.

This is the uniform of the Miko. It is also the clothes I used to wear once a year.

In the past three years, I was in a long dream, and the rituals of the hidden secret was forced to shelve for three years.

There are not a few months left before this year's ceremony for the secret ceremony, is there already a new selection of Miko in the middle of the kingdom?

At this moment, there was a muffled noise from the back of the temple, and the ground shook.

My heart shuddered, and I recognized that the abrupt sound came from the backyard.

The backyard has always been a forbidden place for the master, and the master is still presiding over the sacrifice. Who would be there?

Listening to the movement, I had a bad feeling for some reason. Although it is a forbidden area, I haven't broken into it before.

Thinking like this, I stood up and walked towards the door to the backyard

Suddenly there was a door opening behind me, and there was a scream in my heart.

MC: Master is back!

Fortunately, the Master hadn't entered the room yet, so I went back to the room and picked up a book, pretending to look through it.

The familiar sound of footsteps gradually approached, and I lowered the book I opened and couldn't help but go to the door.

It might have been expected that there would be someone in the house, and the master had not even entered the door, and a cold voice had already come in.

Master: You are not allowed to come in without my consent next time.

Chapter 2-3

My heart sank, Master was not so indifferent to me in the past.

The door opened with a "creak", and the master stepped in at the answer, and I quickly raised a smile.

MC: Master, you're back!

Master: Why are you here?

Master seemed a little surprised when he came in and saw me. His previous clothes had been changed, and the sense of distance that he could not reach seemed to fade with it.

MC: There are some things to ask Master for help.

He was startled, and nodded faintly.

MC: Master, I seemed to hear noises in the forbidden area just now, and I don't know if someone broke into it by mistake.

Master sat down opposite me, as if he didn't hear my reminder, and asked directly.

Master: What’s wrong?

MC: .....It's not a very important thing either.

I took a deep breath and started telling stories directly.

MC: Yesterday, when I was in the back of the wine shop, a qin suddenly fell from the sky.

Anyway, no matter what excuses, Master would not believe it. I simply let go of my courage.

MC: Who knew there was a hidden crystal fragment in this qin, It may also be that the hidden crystal fragments in my body have the power to summon.

MC: So I want to ask Master how to take out the fragments.

Master listened to my clumsy lie without saying a word, and there was no wave on his face.

MC: If you don't find the pieces quickly...

I paused and swallowed back the words.

Master: Wait for me here.

The master retracted his hand and walked towards the hall. I looked at his back in a daze.

These three years are just a long dream for me, but for Master, what three years are they?

Soon, Master took out an exquisite and simple black box.

Master: Take this with you and don't lose it.

MC: What is this?

I took the palm-sized black box from him, it heavier than I thought, and there's chilly sensation, as if some kind of energy was attached to it.

Master: This is the box of retreat, which can help you recover the fragments attached to their media.

Master: But before taking it back, the body attached to the fragments must be annihilated.

He motioned to me to open the box. I opened the lid of the box curiously, but found that there was nothing in the box.

I just wanted to ask, suddenly a chill spread across my body, and the spar on my chest actually resonated faintly.

Master: Feel it?

MC: Yes... I feel it.

I nodded, only feeling that my heart was filled with this strange yet familiar energy in the box.

This energy is indeed as sacred and clean as the master, but for some reason, I somehow remembered the power that I felt in Three Dreams Square last night.

That kind of pure and evil power.

Master: What's wrong?

As if he saw me distracted, and frowned slightly. His voice brought me back to my sense.

MC: Nothing, thank you Master.

In any case, Master will never harm me.

Having figured this out, I immediately put aside the worries I had just now.

Master glanced at me, and was about to ask something, suddenly there was a knock on the door.

The visitor was the emperor's attendant, and he was asking Master to go to the palace to discuss matters. Master responded and looked at me again when he got up.

Master: Be careful.

MC: Thank you Master, Master, take care.

Seeing the corner of the black robe disappear behind the door, I carefully put the box of retreat into my arms. I looked around, the voice I heard before was still suspicious

At this glance, I noticed that there were still a few brightly colored red spirit fruits on the table, which seemed to have just been picked off.

I couldn't help but murmur in my heart: Does master like this kind of fruit so much?

I thought about it, grabbed a piece of fruit on the table, and ate it as I went outside, when I suddenly heard a strange noise in the courtyard.

MC: Who?!

I stopped and looked around warily.

I don’t know if it’s my illusion. From the moment I enter the door, I feel like I have a pair of invisible eyes watching in secret.

While I was fully alert, a civet cat suddenly got out of the bushes and shook all the blades of grass.

Those black eyes looked at me, and then ran away quickly.I was relieved, speeded up and walked out.

After walking far away, my heart choked suddenly. Master's courtyard has always been a place where all the beasts are kept away. How come there are civet cats?

I looked back at the ebony gate in the distance. The stone lion head is majestic, but I suddenly feel a little ominous.

Is something wrong with the master?

When hesitating where to go next. Suddenly something was faintly hot in sleeve.

I took out and looked, and found that it was the black feather that fell from the boy in the dark alley yesterday.

The black feather was faintly glowing and deflected in my palm. I moved my palm, and it moved with it.

This is... pointing a direction?

My heart moved, and there was a subtle curiosity that the young man was calling me, or just my intuition?

For some reason, I always feel that the boy who held a sharp knife yesterday will not hurt me. And I even have an urge to see him again.

I thought for a moment and walked in the direction that black feather pointed out.

Chapter 2-5

Following the direction guided by it, I gradually heard the noisy voices not far away.

This strange feather did not lead me to the remote and deep alley as I thought.

MC: Could it be that I was thinking wrong?

Not far away, the people watching the crowds in the city square went inside and outside for several times. I lowered my head and dialed the black potassium in my hand, but it slowly turned back to this direction.

MC: Okay, just let me see what you want to lead me into.

From time to time there was exclamation and applause from the crowd. I stood on tiptoe and looked around for a long time, only to see a golden hair top in the distance.

Looking at this posture, it seems that some strangers are performing some novel tricks.

The city have always been a place where foreign business travelers gather. Ordinary tricks have long been popular. Why is it so lively today?

MC: Excuse me.

I squeezed into the crowd and saw a round table in the open space, there's stood a light blond boy.

His facial features are a bit unreal and delicate, and his friendly and clear smile has narrowed the distance again. No wonder the business is so prosperous.

At this moment, he turned his head to the side of my sight in the crowd.

MC: It's you?!

This boy is clearly the assassin I ran into in the alley that night!

My exclamation stuck in my throat. The boy's eyes seemed to stop on me for a short time, and a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he continued to look away from the crowd.

I confirmed that I didn't mistake the look in his eyes. But is this hearty blond boy really the same person as the silver-haired assassin who raised his sword?

If only the looks are similar, why would that black feather guide me here?

I subconsciously pulled the curtain down, intending to observe again.

The blond boy fetched an empty bowl and quivered back and forth. A stream of clear water poured out of the bowl.

The crowd suddenly cheered, and his fingers tapped the side of the bowl flexibly, and smiled as he spread the water around him like a flower.

I was caught off guard, so I had to lift the half-wet gauze on my hat.

At this time, someone screamed again, and I ignored the water droplets. I was surprised to see a red koi suddenly jump out of the bowl held by the young man.

There is a row of small fish tanks under his feet. As he rotates, the red and gold fish jump into the tank one by one from a high place, splashing clear water.

But the scene did not last. Sudden shouts rang from behind the crowd, interrupting the boy's performance.

I turned my head and looked like everyone else, and saw that the city guards appeared.

Guards: Today, the whole city is under martial law, no one can stay here!

Passerby: Why did the martial law suddenly come?

Passerby: I heard that the second prince was stabbed at the city gate just now, and I don't know if it was because of this...

I hadn't heard it really, the people watching the excitement were quickly scattered, and those who were slow were pushed a few times.

These brave guards do not seem to maintain order, but rather come to add chaos.

I wiped the drops of water on my face, pulled the veil down again, and quickly entered the crowd.

Guards: The one in the hat, stop! Take off the hat!

My heart sank suddenly, pretending not to hear, bowed my head and walked forward quickly.

Guards: I'm talking to you! The one in front, stop for me!

The officers and soldiers behind we shouted, and the curious eyes all around fell on me.

Oh no!

The situation is critical now, and I cannot expose myself in any case.

There was a burst of brisk laughter behind.

The conjurer put down the water bottle, jumped lightly from the stage, and stopped between me and the guards.

MC: ...Get out of here!

I lowered my voice, my anxious heart couldn't hold back and was about to pop out

He bends down deafly, picked up a small white porcelain fish tank, and put it in my hand without any explanation.

I stared blankly at the fish tank in my hand, a small red and white fish swimming slowly in the water.

Mysterious Boy: For you.

He blinked, and before I could reply, he turned to face the guards.

Mysterious Boy: All the adults also join the show, how about my newly learned trick?

Guards: Get out of the way and don't hinder official duties!

The boy was not angry, but smiled and reached into his arms to get something, but after a while he took out a handful of soybeans.

The guards were about to get angry. The corners of the young man’s lips were raised, and his hands were held together. The soybeans thrown high into the sky turned into yellow coins.

Passersby: It's money now! Pick up the money!

People scrambled to pick up the copper coins scattered on the ground, and the streets that had just been evacuated were instantly blocked.

Guards: Hey, don't run!

He grab my hand and ran forward. Seeing that my hood was about to be blown away by the wind, he quickly reached out and pressed my head.

MC: Youㅡ

Guards: Find me that guy!

In a hidden alley, facing this familiar face, I didn't know what to say for a while.

MC: You, you run too fast.

Mysterious Boy: I will lead them away first, and you will wait for me somewhere else.

MC: Somewhere else?

He pointed to the back, and a large tree was far from behind the high wall that was twisted and looped.

MC: You mean, we will meet there later

Before I got a confirmed answer, I was pushed out by him and involuntarily rejoined the crowd.

And he slid in the direction he had come, but turned his head halfway, as if confirming, and glanced at me from a distance.

The guards saw him as the most conspicuous in the crowd at a glance immediately shouted and rushed over.

The young man shook his hand in the air, a burst of golden smoke suddenly exploded in the air, and the lazy smile on his lips was so beautiful and dazzling.

My hand was empty and I lowered my head. The little goldfish disappeared along with the fish tank.

Without thinking about it, I tightened my veil and hurried to the place he said before.

There was no one in the depths of the alley, only an old tree.

There are still some dirty child footprints and messy feathers scattered under the trees.

MC: Strange, has anyone else been here?

With many doubts, I hesitated for a moment, but decided to wait for him.

I don't know if it's because he just offered to help, or the lingering sense of familiarity that always lingers in my heart.

But how could he and the assassin I met in the dark alley be the same person?

There was a sound of footsteps in the quiet alley. I turned around and held my breath nervously.

MC: Youㅡ

However, it was not the boy who appeared in front of me, but a few tall men in black. The leader saw my face and sneered.

Man in black: Finally found it.

I took two steps back quickly. I didn't know where these people came from, but I felt the strong murderous aura in them.

MC: Wait a minute! Did you admit the wrong person?

The man in black didn't listen to my excuse. He raised his hand to his companion behind him, and showed a dark color around his waist without warning.

MC: A Talisman? Are you a Master?!

The black-clothed man's eyes dimmed suddenly, and I realized that I shouldn't be so reckless. He knew that I had discovered his identity and would only want to kill me even more.

MC: We.... Let's talk first, in fact, I am also a master of the hermit, and I just joined yesterday. Everyone is a colleague...

Man in black: Stop talking nonsense, come on!

–

Read Part.TWO here

[ahsokasanity]

Chapter Thirteen

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons                            Chapter Link

Oh, you’re gonna wanna read this one!

The house arranged a beautiful table setting and centre piece. The room was bathed in the orange and bright pinks of the evening sun. Azriel was already there. Dressed casually in black pants and a teal shirt with the cuffs rolled up nearly to his elbows. Cassian and Nesta wandered in, drink in each hand. Cassian passed his spare to Aziel, who took it gratefully and swallowed a large gulp. He looked up at them quickly

“sparkling water?”

Nesta answered for them “I’m not, you know drinking anymore so the house offers what’s best for every situation. Cassian agreed, a totally sober night for him and you will be best – especially with the work you have to do tomorrow”

Azriel nodded “I see, and I agree alcohol is not necessary, maybe I was looking to take the edge off, but I don’t need it”

Cassian laughed “You might, but we’ll back you up buddy”

Gwyn arrived taking the last step slowly and looking around furtively. She was talking to herself quietly “Are you Idisi? Is this scarier that fighting for your life on Ramiel? Can you chill out and have a quiet dinner with your friends and with Azriel? She sucked in a breath “Oh Mother, would you look at him”

Nesta stepped forward and took Gwyn’s hand, having left her drink on the table.

“You are so welcome Gwyn, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before” they hugged and walked to sit at the dining table.

“Please sit down Gwyn. Cass, Azriel we can eat whenever we are ready”

She turned to Gwyn “You know since the house was gifted to Cassian and I, we don’t venture to the kitchens. Every now and then I send a basket of treats or some blooming flowers of Elain’s to say thank you, but Windy does it all. It is an interesting way to live never knowing or bothering to think about what we should eat” she smiled and Cassian stopped talking to Azriel for a moment to appreciate that spirit. A year ago he could not have fantasised about this kind of hope and happiness for her.

Aziel noticed too but his eye was caught more by the slight giggle that Gwyn made, her curls bouncing either side of her face and the way her eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Windy” as Nesta had begun to refer to the house of Wind did not disappoint with dinner. Although you might think it was a Den Mother the way each person was served different amounts depending on their body’s requirements and tastes. It was all food on a theme, but no two plates were the same.

Gwyn was enjoying the food and the easy conversation ranging from training, to the mating ceremony, to singing and pranks that Azriel and Cassian had played on each other and Rhys growing up.

Dessert was served and when Gwyneth’s plate arrived bearing a colourful meringue pegasus, she burst out laughing. The house had remembered her request from the girls night months ago.

She really did not relish eating the work of art, but the dinner had been served in order and amounts to leave her room for this treat. Azriel had heard the story from Cassian about what the house had provided the three recovering females and was so pleased to see Gwyn relaxed and joyful. When she offered him some of her meringue, he took the tail.

“This is only so that we can tell people you did not eat an entire pegasus by yourself” and popped it into his mouth. Gwyn watched every move, caught by the idea of that melt in your mouth delicacy on his tongue, dissolving and fizzing and finally being swallowed. She consciously dropped her eyes to her plate, but hoped that he would not scent her want. A feeling that she just couldn’t stop, rising within her.

Suddenly she wished that she had not eaten all that the house had offered. Her stomach knotted and her heart beat was going to drown out the conversation. In fact, she noticed Cassian and Azriel had stopped speaking and Nesta was looking at her worriedly.

“Gwyn, what’s wrong? you’ve gone pale all of a sudden”

She abruptly stood, pushing the chair back and stumbled toward the dark doors leading to the roof.

“I just need some air.” She scrambled outside. The others too shocked to follow

                                                                       *

It was dark outside, but she knew every corner and seat and railing here. She moved to a bench overlooking the city and it’s twinkling lights, with one wall of the house behind her. Gwyn sat and breathed. She counted to ten for each inhale and each exhale until the nausea stopped, then began the proper Valkyrie exercises to centre her mind. On purpose she did not try to find a reason for her panic. It was all too obvious.

Moments or hours later Nesta came out to her, carrying one of the house’s magical light sources so that she could find Gwyn. Although, she knew the layout better that anyone, Gwyn realised she was announcing her presence.

“I’m so sorry Nessie, I don’t know what happened” (even though she did and it scared her to death). Nesta sat beside her with one arm over her shoulders.

“Don’t mention it, you know around here, we’re all about do as you feel” She winked. Gwyn knowing full well about Nesta’s behaviour when she arrived up here, and about how many different rooms she and Cassian had enjoyed each other in. She just smiled and said

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate that, but I’m not sure what to do now. Do I sit here breathing or do I come back and face my trainers feeling embarrassed and silly?” She shrugged and Nesta could see the internal struggle for the female who always put on a brave face to cover the unforgettable trauma of death and rape that dogged her still.

“How about a compromise?” Nesta dipped her chin, “Azriel and Cassian and I could come out here to sit with you in the dark, then you don’t have to feel like you look silly because they won’t be able to see you!”

Gwyn huffed a laugh, then it broke to the surface and it came out properly. Nesta joined her and they pushed on each other’s shoulders making the other start up again.

It didn’t take long before Cassian and Azriel made their way out to see what was going on out there. They were talking loudly and teasing each other about who was the best trainer, Nesta blessed them for their attempt at subtlety.

“What’s your opinion Gwyn, who is the best trainer? Your General, OR the guy who helps out sometimes?” Cassian had arrived and dragged over a sunbed made for wings to lay on.

Gwyn looked at Azriel who stayed standing on the other side of Nesta. His silk shirt caught the moonlight and she could see the colour ripple as he breathed

“Well, General" She started and the others laughed

“You definitely make me work harder, Azriel seems to like stretching and cooling down best” Cassian made to accept his win.

“But….” Gwyn continued “The person who helps out sometimes, has, I think, been the reason behind my technique improvement” She smiled at Azriel then and he looked modestly at the ground.

“So, I’m not going to choose!” Gwyn declared. Cassian and Nesta clapped and congratulated her, and Azriel laughed and the joy in that laugh had Gwyn tensing up inside. In a good way. The stomach churning did not happen, but a bubbly, happy humming started in her chest.

Cassian held out his hand to Nesta, beckoning her and she went and lay next to him with her head on his chest and their hands linked across Cass’s belly.

Azriel glanced at the bench vacated by Nesta “May I?” he asked Gwyn softly.

“Of course” She said shyly. What else could she say. She edged a little further from him so that she would not accidentally touch his wings. His shadows stayed as a second skin around him, but where his hand rested on the bench closest to her, they seeped out a little. Gwyn did it without thinking, she ran a finger through the darkness of the inky feelers. She pulled away as they touched her coolly, but stretched her hand out again when it didn’t hurt.

“Can you feel that?” she said quietly

Cassian and Nesta were silent, she knew they could hear her, and Azriel’s reply, but surely someone had asked the shadowsinger about his shadows before.

“Yes, but it’s a feeling not a sense”

Cassian called out “REALLY?” and Nesta put her hand over his mouth laughing. Azriel shook his head “Yes, really. I don’t feel hot or cold or sharp or blunt with my shadows. Right now I just feel happiness, and maybe uncertainty?”

Gwyn slid her hand away. He was reading far too much of her mood right now.

“That’s really amazing” she looked properly at him and fell headlong into his dark blue eyes. He blinked and she was able to look away

“It is pretty good. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have the power, but it’s saved me, well, us, so many times I’m grateful despite the “feelings’ all the time”

Nesta “oohhhhed” from her chair like suddenly Azriel made more sense. Cassian nudged her and she squirmed “What?”

“Well, I was just thinking how tired I am and that I have to get up early tomorrow for Rhys’ little errand, and you know, maybe it’s” he spoke lower “bedtime”.

Nesta got the hint and went a little pink cheeked, although it was too dark to see.

“Good point Cassian, what a responsible mate you are. Definitely bedtime when we’ve got to get going early” she yawned deliberately. Cassian merely stood and took her hand bowing to Azriel and Gwyn

“Brother, Gwyn, thanks for tonight. Let’s do it again soon”

Nesta nodded and giggled at Cassian’s attempt at politeness and sudden need to be alone with her. She had the same idea.

“Thank you Nesta, Cassian” Gwyn nodded but didn’t attempt to rise, instead she looked at Azriel. He stared back but farewelled his friends absentmindedly

“Yeah, bye”

                                                               *

[nerd2614]

Sweet Death

@write-it-motherfuckers original prompt

Cool poem I found whilst googling stuff

“Tigers are the largest type of cat.” You blurted out as a large man carefully picked up a miniature rainbow tiger ceramic. Your eyes widened and you began to stumble over an apology. The people at work were only saying yesterday that you should at least try not to disrupt unknown people with random bits of information. To your great surprise, he turned towards you with an almost childlike smile.

“Though often lions have a larger skull than that of tigers.” He said happily.

“Must be all that hot air they store in there.” You quipped.

The man laughed freely. His gloved hand came up to press against his sternum, covered by layers of jumpers. The beanie on his head started to slip from his shaking.

You glanced around the bizarre little antique shop you’d scrambled into when the snow started. A Cuckoo clock next to you caught your eye. You picked it up with a devilish grin. “The cuckoo bird actually lays its eggs in the nests of other birds so they don’t have to raise their young.”

“Sounds like my parents.” The man joked. The both of you paused - unsure of how the other would react - before bursting out with a fit of giggles. This continued for quite a while. One of you would pick out an item in the shop and provided a factoid. Then the other would make a dark quip about it.

This only stopped when the elderly shopkeeper firmly asked you to be quiet or be gone. Without discussion, the both of you moved towards the exit.

“At least it’s not snowing anymore.”

The man beside you hummed in agreement.

“My name’s Eve by the way.” You smiled and stuck your hand out.

Your new friend hesitated. He looked at your hand for a moment before sheepishly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t really, um...”

You frowned. Then his words hit you and you took a step back, bringing your arm crashing into your side. “Oh! No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed...” You trailed off awkwardly.

“Eve. Full of life, very fitting.” He fiddled with his gloves to avoid looking at you. A shiver tore through you that had nothing to do with the cold. “Would you like to get a coffee with me, Eve?”

“I’d love to, Mister Mysterious.” You joked, starting to follow him down the street.

“Oh, um-” pink dusted his cheeks “- call me Theo.”

/

That first coffee turned into a regular hang out once a week. Then almost every day Theo would pick you up from work for an adventure. He was very adamant about his no touch rule. No matter what the weather or occasion was, he found a way to cover up completely. Theo often shied away from you when you came too close. You tried not to take it to heart. As a very affectionate person, you had to restrain yourself from hugging Theo or holding his hand when crossing the street.

At one of your first movie nights, you built up the courage to ask about it.

“I have...” Theo mumbled an answer. You shuffled around on your beanbag to be able to look at him directly.

“Hmm?”

“Really. Sensitive. Skin.” Theo announciated each word by throwing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Oh. So you’re not afraid you’ll fall in love with me if we accidentally touch hands?” You pretended to pout. You made a mental reminder to be extra careful in future. Causing your new friend any pain was the last thing you wanted.

Theo laughed softly and pointed out something in the movie. The topic was dropped.

/

“Are your ears painted on? Back. Off.” You practically growled at the woman flirting with Theo.

She raised a perfectly painted on eyebrow, “I didn’t realise you were his girlfriend.”

“He’s obviously uncomfortable.” You defended him. Theo stood up and carefully positioned himself beside you. The woman rolled her eyes and stalked off.

You smiled and passed over his drink. “I leave you alone for two seconds.”

“Thank you, Eve.” Theo rumbled. You had an idea he wasn’t talking about the tea.

The two of you were walking down the street when Theo’s shoulders started shaking.

“What’s wrong?”

“You, you practically growled at that poor woman! What were you going to do if she hadn’t left?” Theo started laughing. He laughed a lot more than when you first met almost four years ago. No matter how much you heard it, it filled you with joy.

“Shut up.”

/

You had never run that fast in your life. Theo had fallen off the side of the lookout with a slowness that was terrifying. You had reached out to grab him but only managed to grasp the tassel of his beanie. Sickening cracks echoed with his grunts as he seemed to hit every tree and rock on the way down.

“Theo!” The scream tore from your throat. Tears streamed from your eyes. Branches whipped against your cheeks. Your heart felt like it simultaneously stopped and was beating as fast as it ever had. You forced yourself to concentrate on the worn away game trail in front of you. There was no possible way he could have survived the fall. No human could have. But you prayed to anyone that would listen that Theo would be alright.

You cried out in relief as you saw him crawl his way onto the riverbank. There was no logical way he could have survived such a fall, and yet there he was, looking completely unharmed. There wasn’t even a scratch anywhere you could see. Your panicked mind was having difficulty comprehending it. Unthinkingly, you reached out and searched him desperately for wounds. It wasn’t until you were gently cupping his face in your hands that you registered that his body initially flinched away from your touch.

“You… Eve, you’re… touching me.” His breathless voice cut through your panic, freezing you in place.

You gasped and reefed your hands back as his voice registered. Tears started to flow freely again. You stumbled back, hiccupping. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I fucked up. Sorry.”

His firm hands latched onto your wrists before you could move too far away. You peeked up at him through damp eyelashes to see a slack expression of awe and reverence on his face. The action made you tense again. You looked down at his hands that made yours look so small. The difference was never noticeable before, Theo always felt larger than life, but to actually see the size of his hands engulfing your wrists was shocking. You fell completely silent. As if you were made of glass, Theo gently tugged you closer so you were both kneeling on the muddy riverbank. His hair and clothes were still dripping from his time in the water. His beanie was still clutched in your hand.

His eyes were searching yours for answers or maybe just questions you didn’t know the answer to. Theo looked down at your joined hands. Slowly, he released one and raised it to his mouth to tug off his thick leather glove with his teeth. He hesitated for a split moment before interlocking his icy cold fingers with yours. You watched in silence as his whole body shuddered, feeling your panic begin to bloom again as his eyes welled up with tears.

“You can touch me…” He whispered breathlessly again.

Confused, you simply watched him in silence, heart aching as you saw him shake at the simple touch. Carefully, he pulled your hand back to his face, hesitating before all but nuzzling into it.

“You can touch me!” His voice was enthusiastically louder than before.

Your attempt to reply was cut off as his awe filled words dissolved into an almost hysterical giggle. Without consciously deciding to, you slowly shuffled forward to carefully pull him into your arms. Instantly, he all but melted into your embrace, clutching at you desperately as he let out a mix between a laugh and a sob, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

Pushing aside your confusion, you simply held him, soothingly rubbing his back as he kept murmuring deliriously into your neck, seeming almost starved for your touch now that he had felt it. You whispered sweet nothings to him, assuring him that you weren’t going to go anywhere.

The dampness oozed into your clothes, which in turn allowed the cold to seep into your bones. You started to shiver uncontrollably. At first you were able to suppress it a bit, whatever Theo was going through was more important than a slight chill, but even he noticed as an especially violent shiver ripped through you.

“Eve?” Theo pulled back slightly, mindful to not break his contact with you. You sniffed and shook your head to dismiss his questions.

“It’s fine. You’re more important. I’m just really, just real glad you didn’t get hurt.” You didn’t bother to ask if he was okay. Anyone who refused to be touched for years then basically melded themselves into the first person who ‘could’ touch them was obviously the very opposite of okay. Theo frowned. He disentangled his hand from yours to run his thumb over your bottom lip. A blush rose on your face, chasing away the cold you felt.

“Your lips are blue.”

You giggled. “No they’re not, feel v’ry warm.”

His hand stilled. He gently tugged his beanie out of your grip and slid it down over your ears. “We need to leave.” He stood abruptly, bringing you up with him. You giggled again. “Can you walk?” You looked at him like he’d grown a third head. You took a step and nearly collapsed. Concern etched itself into Theo’s face.

“S’not good.” You muttered. It was colder still now. The sun had disappeared behind the trees leaving the valley in a state of near darkness. A breeze picked up from the river and blew towards you. Theo stood close to you to shield from the cold then seemed to realise he was still damp and wasn’t radiating any heat. He looked torn between staying away and keeping as close as possible.

“You have hypothermia.” There was no doubt in his voice as he looked down at you. “Shivers, slurred speech, blue lips, even your pupils are dilated. This is my fault! If I hadn't slipped...”

You leant against Theo and sighed. “Shhh, no one's fault.”

“How’s your heartbeat? Is it erratic?”

“It always is around you.” You tried to joke but the words didn’t come out right. Another violent shiver ripped through you hard enough to make you gasp for air.

“Fuck.” If you weren’t already shivering, hearing Theo cuss in that low voice would have made you start. You tried to tell him so but it was as if your tongue was made of lead. You wished whoever was making that awful chattering noise would stop. The world started spinning but came to an abrupt stop as you landed in Theo’s arms. His breathing was a lot steadier than yours even though he was ascending the steep side of the valley with your added form.

“You can’t leave me, Eve. You can’t touch me and die of a silly human condition. It’s not fair. Just hang in there for me.”

There were lots of questions that you wanted to ask him. “What’s the real reason you don’t want people to touch you? Why are you so cold? What do you mean ‘human condition'?” But now was not the time. Tightly embraced in Theo’s arms, you focused on trying to reassure him that you wouldn’t leave. Four quick taps, one tap, tap hold tap, one tap. His small smile filled your vision.

Your eyes fluttered open.

You were reclined in the passenger seat with your worn car blanket draped over you. The windows were all fogged up. The heater was on.

“Theo?” To talk was painful, but you had to know.

“Eve.” It did something to you to hear your name said with such relief. You propped yourself up on your elbow to face the man sprawled in the backseat. He had hung his thick coat over the back of the driver’s seat to dry. A thin blue shirt stretched across his chest, looking a bit worse for wear.

“You’re not part cat, are you?”

Of all the questions Theo was expecting, that was not one. The tension shattered with his light laugh. You tried and failed to keep a straight face.

“No. Not part cat.” Theo’s smile slowly faded. He paused. You could tell he was thinking of the best way to tell you what happened. He evidently decided to rip the bandaid off quickly. “I’m a Lord of Death. My true name is Thanatos.”

“I guess that’s why you thought my name was funny all those years ago.” You mused. “Life and Death meeting at last.”

Theo, for that’s who he would always be to you, reached over to brush his fingers against your cheek. “Something like that.”

“Come, sweet death, into the arms of my embrace.” You quoted seriously, holding your arms out. He looked confused for a moment before understanding flickered across his face. He scooped you up into his arms and the two of you held each other in the heated car.

There were still lots of questions that you wanted to ask, but now was not the time. For now, you simply held him as you both absorbed the moment, knowing that somehow everything would be alright.

And that was more than enough for you.

[forever-rogue]

Ezra x Reader: the heating system goes out, and it's freezing.

It is freezing. Absolutely freezing. You’re positive that you’ve never felt anything so boning chilling and cold before. You weren’t even sure what planet you were on, to be quite frank, you’d left all that up to Ezra’s discretion. You thought about a cracking a joke and comparing this planet to the one called Hoth from Star Wars, which were old films you’d never seen but had only heard of. But Ezra had been quiet...stoic. It was uncharacteristic of him, and you weren’t sure if it was something you’d done wrong, or he was just deeply invested in the book in his lap.

You pulled the thin blanket you had closer to your frame and tried to stop the chattering of your teeth. You were wearing several layers already, including one of his thick, woolen sweaters and socks but you didn’t manage to find reprieve from the chill. You cursed your ship; it was slowly breaking down and you surely had to replace it soon. Or at least get the heating fixed. Ezra had tinkered around with the system but had been unsuccessful in getting it fixed. He had been irritated with himself, but you reassured him that it wasn’t his fault.

Ezra was...an interesting man. He was loud, boisterous, and well spoken, but there was another part of him that others didn’t get to see. But you did. You weren’t sure exactly how or when you’d earned that privilege, but somehow you had. For as much as he was, he was also calm, quiet, and thoughtful, often retreating into himself and seeking reassurance. He was a good man, although he often didn’t believe. You tried to show him, and it was enough to cause him to think that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, that maybe he was good. Maybe he wasn’t as pure and gentle as you were, his most treasured friend and companion, but he wasn’t the horrible, black-hearted man that he made himself out to be.

You weren’t sure what to call your relationship with him...it was...friendly, definitely more than friendly, but...something. It had turned from a stiff partnership that had came to fruition out of necessity to a friendship that included jokes at each other’s expenses to....this. It was a lot of wanton glances, lingering touches, soft words whispered just so the other could hear it but pretend they didn’t, to you stealing his clothes, to the accidental brush of lips when you’d fumble around in the dark. But you’d never been bold or brash enough to ask about him about anything, or to take it further. What if you’d concocted all of this in your mind, and made it to be much more than what it was? What if -

“You are thinking much too loudly, pretty little bird,” his voice caused your head to snap in his direction. He hadn’t even bothered to look up from his book, but a soft, lazy smile was on his features. You pulled the blanket up to your chin as you narrowed your eyes at him, wondering how he always managed to know, to read you, “you can glare at me all you want with those pretty eyes, but it will not deter from the fact that you are clearly avoiding what is going on.”

“There is nothing going on, Ez,” you insisted, silently rolling your eyes at him, “I’m just trying not to freeze to death. I dunno know how you can stand it.”

“I am quite content right here, just as I am, “ he gestured to his blanket covered body, looking over at you with his big, brown eyes inquisitive as ever. You tried not to let your gaze linger too long on his large thighs, the same thighs you’d spent many hours fantasizing about, or how small the book he was reading looked in those large hands. You wondered exactly how skilled those large hands were - but no. You couldn’t let your thoughts get too far away from you, “I am larger than you, and it undoubtedly aids in keeping me warmer. You have absolutely paled, pretty bird.”

“That’s because I am trying not die,” you insisted, making a dramatic show of chattering your teeth to let him know you were freezing, “pardon me if I don’t look the best right now.”

“You are just as stunning as ever,” he insisted, marking his page by turning the corner down slightly and snapping the book shut. The sound lingered in the air for a few moments before he set it down and turned to face you. Had he always been this handsome, or were you just completely sold on him? He lifted the blanket up and gestured for you to come over, “for surely the moons and the suns are all beautiful, even if they present a vastly different picture. You are as lovely now as you are on the warmest, finest day.”

“Ez, how do you still manage to be so eloquent while I’m here barely to string two sentences together?” you sighed and pulled the blanket up higher, unsure if you should go over to him, unsure if you trusted yourself enough. You didn’t like to relinquish control, and you weren’t sure if you able to hold onto it if you went over and joined him.

“I wish I had an explanation for you,” he admitted, as he let out a small breathy laugh, “now come over here before you become a solid ice block and I have to thaw you out.”

“Are you...” you started trailed off, letting the question linger in the frigid air. You both knew what you meant, you both knew where this could lead to. There was only so much build before something had to break. You were on the precipice of that break, each word, each calculated movement bringing you closer. Closer to relinquishing control and giving into your desires, the kind you didn’t have to think about, the kind that just took over.

“Come on, little bird,” he jerked his head for you to come over and slowly, ever so slowly, you slid out of your own small cot and let your feet hit the ground with a dull thud. Grabbing the blanket, you padded silently over to him, standing over him as you looked between those sweet brown eyes and the space he had made for you.

Clambering in, you laid down next to him, your body instinctively curling into his side as you put your head on his warm chest. He quickly pulled the blankets around the two of you and wrapped an around your back so in an attempt to help warm you up. It quickly worked; he was like some kind of a furnace and his body heat radiated onto you, warming up to your core within a few minutes.

But then...before you knew it, something inside you just snapped. And Ezra must have felt it too. The hundreds upon thousands of unspoken words that hung between you were dissolved as you were scrambled to sit up and you effortlessly straddled his waist, planting yourself firmly, and resolutely in his lap. Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, his skin tantalizingly golden and warm. You faced him, your chest heaving with a mixture of exertion and nervous as you studied his face.

His large hands were firmly on your waist, his fingers finding their way under the multiple layers and grazing across your now burning skin. His honeyed gaze never fell from yours, and your brought your face closer and closer and closer until just the tip of your nose was gently brushing against his. A low sound came from his throat as his hands slid to your backside and gave your soft flesh a firm squeeze.

“Ezra,” his name rolled off your lips with ease, a sound of prayer and salvation as he closed the almost nonexistent distance and crashed his lips onto yours. It was gentle at first, slow, delicate, like he was testing to waters to make sure this was okay with you. To make sure such a pure thing could even stand to be kissed by a man like him. He quickly received his answer as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rutted your hips forward ever so slightly so that you could get as close as possible. He tasted sweet, sweeter than you had thought possible, and you never wanted to forget the feel of his hungry mouth on yours. It was...a mess, a tangle of teeth and tongue as you tried to figure everything out, and not get too ahead of yourselves before you fully realized what you were doing.

“I’m sure this must be some sort of fever dream,” his voice was rough and low against your ear as he worked his hands up your sides, almost as if he was wanted to make sure you were real flesh and blood in his arms, “surely I cannot be deserving of this moment, of holding such a gentle, sweet thing.”

“Ezra,” you carded a hand through his dark locks, gently scratching your nails against his scalp as he craned into your touch, “you deserve this. This is real, very real.”

“Pretty little bird,” he nuzzled his strong nose against yours as he let his hands roam your torso, touching every inch, every curve of your soft skin, “you have no clue as to the effects you have on me. Every day with you has been better than the last, and I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I sure am thankful for whatever blessing has been bestowed upon me.”

“Ezra,” you drawled out your name as you shifted slightly, feeling every effect you had on him, very clearly, “you are a good man. Despite what you think. You have saved me in more ways than you know.”

“How can I be when I’ve convinced you that this is what you want?” he rested his forehead against yours as he let out a long breath, “you just wanted warmth and I’ve fully taken advantage of the situation, welcoming you into my bed and lap like a wanton man that has never seen a woman. Although it is true, I have never seen someone of your beauty and grace before.”

“Ez,” you put your hand under his chin and tilted his face up ever so slightly, “I want this. I do.”

“You are speaking from the chill that has set in your bones-”

“No,” you insisted firmly, putting your hands on either side of his face, tracing your fingers over the light stubble that littered his cheeks, “you have done nothing wrong. I know what I’m doing, what I’m saying - and I want you. I want this.”

“Oh my sweet little bird,” it was a blissful sigh, “I must be the luckiest man that has ever lived, to be deserving of such affection from you.”

“Ezra,” you let your lips slowly brush against his, “for once in your life, please stop talking. I love hearing that voice, but right now, I need you to touch me.”

He sat up further and pulled you so tightly against him, that you were sure his strong arms would crush you. But his touch was saccharine and his kisses sweet than the finest honey as your name rolled off his tongue with such passion and reverence that you knew he had wanted this as much as you did. His touch was like worship and you wondered why you had ever waited this long to experience it, why you had questioned his devotion.

“Little bird,” he rasped against your lips as he trailed a line of kisses down your jaw and neck, “I do not know if I will be able to contain myself.”

“Then don’t,” you bit your bottom lip as he found your sensitive sweet spot and nipped at the delicate skin, “don’t hold back.”

[nonbinary-octopus]

Secret Shifter

A gift for @cutetinyartist ​for the @secret-shifters ​gt gift exchange!

CuteTinyArtist gave three prompts to work with, and I tried to use bits from all of them, but this is mostly prompt three.

Prompt 1: Pretty much anything involving handheld fluff! Giants holding tinies (whether it's for the first time or the billionth time) is always a great trope.

Prompt 2: A giant finding a tiny and being really excited about it- possibly with accidental fearplay as the giant doesn't realize how scared the tiny is!

Prompt 3: Size-Shifter accidentally revealing their powers to a close friend who doesn't know about it (and the friend finding it absolutely adorable/amazing- possibly even leading to a confession of love? Fluffy romance in G/T is something that I absolutely adore)

Wordcount: 3.1 K

Summary: Sam has a secret. A big secret. Or maybe it's a really little secret...

[More of my writing]

~~~~~

It had been a perfect day. One of the odd days when Rose and Sam had had a day off in common, and they decided to spend it together. No plans, just hanging out and goofing around. They’d spent a large portion of the morning simply sitting together on Rose’s living room couch and watching cartoons, and now they were in her kitchen, doing their best to make lemonade from its base components.

Sam poured a small portion into his cup, taking a sip. He made a face.

“Still too sour?” Rose asked. Sam nodded.

“Put in like… twice as much sugar.” Sam put his cup down, picking up the sugar instead, and started pouring it into the pitcher. Rose stirred with their wooden spoon.

The falling sugar crystals were pretty. Sam got distracted watching them, and didn’t stop pouring until Rose said, “Uh, I think that’s probably plenty.”

Sam jolted, pulling the sugar away abruptly. “Oops.”

Rose laughed, still stirring. When the sugar had about dissolved, they asked, “Ready for another taste test?” Sam nodded, picking up his cup again. It still had some left in it from earlier, though, and he looked at the yellowish liquid for a few seconds. Then he shrugged a bit and tossed the whole thing into his mouth, trying to drink it all in one swallow.

It was… not a better way to get it down than just drinking it normally. When he’d finished his coughing fit, and Rose had finished laughing at him, they poured him another sample. Sam sipped it.

“Hm,” he said. He sipped it again.

“Well?”

“Well…” Sam considered, taking another sip. “It’s not too sour anymore?”

“Too sweet?” Rose guessed. Sam nodded.

“Very. You ever do that experiment as a kid where you grow sugar crystals? It’s like drinking that. A little flavor, but mostly just sugar water.”

“More lemons, then?”

“Maybe.” Sam ran his tongue across his teeth, which felt a bit grainy. “I don’t think the sugar all dissolved, actually. We should probably add more water.”

A little over an hour later, they finally had the ratios all right. They also had three pitchers full of lemonade.

“So…” Sam said. “Any idea how much of each ingredient we used?”

Rose laughed. “Not a clue.”

“Me neither.” Sam swirled what was left of his latest sample in the bottom of his cup. “Y’know… I think I’ve had enough lemonade for the day. Maybe even enough to last me for the rest of the year.”

“... same.”

“Put the rest in the fridge? Deal with it later?”

Rose nodded.

“So, what do you wanna do next?” Sam asked after they’d found lids for the pitchers and transferred them all to the fridge.

Rose shrugged. “More cartoons?”

“Yeah!”

During the theme song of their second episode, Sam felt a familiar prickle in the back of his brain. Oh no. Not now. Not here. Sam closed his eyes tightly, trying to will it away. It didn’t work. That never worked. The prickly sensation grew stronger. He had to get away, immediately.

“You okay?” Rose asked. Sam’s eyes shot open.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, I—” What excuse could he use? He didn’t want them to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stay here. Sam fidgeted.

“Too much lemonade?” Rose guessed sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Sam breathed, relieved. “Yeah, too much, I gotta—”

Rose laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Go on, then. Get. You know where the bathroom is.”

“Thanks.” Sam shot to his feet, untangling himself from his blanket cocoon as quickly as he could. “Uh. Start without me. I’ve seen this one.” He ran from the room as fast as he could. This was okay. It would be okay. He could just lock himself in the bathroom until it was over, and Rose never needed to know. Yeah. Yeah, he could do this.

He made it halfway up the stairs before it hit.

Between one breath and the next, the prickles spread across his entire body, blurring his vision and disrupting his balance. Sam’s foot had been lifted for the next step, but the next step suddenly wasn’t there, and for a moment he was falling.

He landed flat on his face.

“Ow,” Sam said flatly into the carpet, and didn’t get up. The landing hadn’t actually hurt too much, but he still didn’t feel like moving yet. He lay there for several moments longer, waiting for the lingering tingles to fade and his bones to stop feeling like jello. It was always worse if he was moving when the shifts struck.

But he couldn’t lie there forever. When Sam felt like he could move without his vision spinning, he sat up, a little bit stiffly, then stood and brushed himself off. He was a little bit sore from faceplanting into the floor, but not so sore he thought it would leave a bruise.

And now there were the stairs to deal with. Normally, not a problem; they’re just stairs. Walk up, walk down. He’d been taking them three at a time just a minute ago. No biggie. But now? Yes biggie. Literally. Sam scowled up at the next step. At least these stairs were carpeted. He’d have handholds. But on the other hand, the top of each step had a lip that stuck out at least an inch or two, with an overhang underneath.

Maybe he should go down instead of up. Sam turned around, looking down the flight of stairs. It would certainly be easier; he could let gravity do most of the work. And sure, the drop was about twice his height, but he was surprisingly durable like this. He could probably jump down and it would still be more scary than painful or dangerous.

On the other hand, Rose thought he was in the bathroom, and the bathroom was upstairs, and it would be harder to pretend he’d actually been in the bathroom the whole time if he went down the stairs. Plus, if he shifted back without warning, Rose would be more likely to notice if they were on the same floor.

And staying put was definitely out of the question. There were worse places to be six inches tall, especially out in public, but just sitting on the stairs was still pretty bad. It was probably worse than out on a regular floor, actually, and not just because it was harder terrain to traverse. There was no clutter to hide behind, for one thing.

So up it was.

Sam nodded, lacing his fingers together and swinging his hands above his head to pop his knuckles and stretch his shoulders. Stepping up to the cliff face-like wall, Sam gripped one thick thread of the carpet at about shoulder height, and another over his head. He hauled himself upwards, trying to find purchase with his feet. There wasn’t really anything to stand on, but if he leaned back a bit, he could brace his feet against the wall so he wouldn’t have to rely entirely on his arm strength.

It helped that he didn’t weigh very much like this. Being small had a lot of disadvantages, but one thing it had going for it was the proportional strength. Sure, at this size Sam couldn’t open a jar or pick up even one of those pitchers of lemonade in the fridge, but he could lift his own body weight with surprising ease.

Getting over the lip of the step wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. Once he had climbed as high as he could, holding his arms in pull-up position so his hair brushed the underside of the overhang, Sam carefully shifted his weight onto one arm. With the other, he reached up and back, feeling across the ceiling until he found the forward edge. He made sure he had a good grip on a carpet strand, then let go with his first hand. As Sam swung back, he reached up and grabbed on beside his other hand.

Climbing was harder when he was dangling over open space, instead of having a solid wall in front of him to brace against. Sam hauled himself up, uselessly kicking at the air once or twice. His next reach gave him an anchor on the top of the step, and then he was squirming over the edge up onto it.

“There,” Sam said, puffing a bit. “One down…” He looked up, but from this angle, couldn’t see further than the next step, looming over him. “… several to go.”

This was going to take a while.

The step was three paces from front to back, and then Sam was climbing again. Getting over the overhang was a bit easier this time, since he’d had the practice of the first one, but he still had to stop for a breather after he’d dragged himself onto the top. After he had caught his breath, Sam started again.

As Sam was squirming over the overhang of his fourth step, things went from just tricky to downright bad.

“Oh! Hello there!”

Sam jerked in shock. He almost lost his grip and fell, but managed to grab onto another strand of carpet in time. For a few seconds, he dangled off the edge of the step, heart pounding. Then, slowly, he looked over his shoulder and up.

Yep, just as he’d feared… Rose had found him. She had an odd look on her face, a sort of frozen shock mixed with a wince.

“Sorry,” Rose said in a much softer voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you need some help?” They started leaning towards Sam, lifting their hand. Panic shot through Sam’s heart, and he started scrambling to get up and over the overhang again before they could reach him. Fear made him clumsy, and he had to grab at the carpet strands a few times before he had a good enough grip to pull himself up.

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel the grasping fingers of a human hand, even though Sam knew all too well that he stood no chance of winning any sort of race against a human at this size.

Once up on top of the step, Sam turned around, backing toward the next stair. To his surprise, Rose had pulled her hand back and was looking apologetic.

“Sorry,” she said again.

Sam shook himself. Why was he acting so scared? This was Rose. He knew Rose! They were an absolute sweetie, and they’d never hurt him, even if he was very small at the moment and his instincts were screaming at him to get away. Sheepishly, Sam lifted a hand in an awkward wave.

“Hi.”

Rose grinned a small grin. “Hi,” she echoed. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how that would look from your end.”

Sam chuckled. “It’s okay. You meant well.”

“Good intentions don’t erase negative results,” Rose answered with a shrug. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam said, flapping a hand dismissively. “I mean, besides that you weren’t supposed to see me, but that’s probably on me anyway.”

Rose laughed. “Yeah, not exactly the best hiding place,” she teased.

“No,” Sam agreed, shaking his head and laughing as well.

“I could pretend I never saw you?” Rose offered.

Sam considered it for a second before shaking his head. “Naw, that wouldn’t work. You know you saw me, and I know you saw me, so all we’d be doing is not talking about it, and that could get awkward fast.”

Rose looked surprised. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Just don’t tell my parents, alright? Or, like. Other humans. This—” He gestured at the all of himself— “is kind of extremely, very much a secret.”

Rose grinned. “Deal.”

Sam grinned back, leaning casually against the carpeted wall behind him.

“So,” Rose said. “What’s your name? I’m Rose.”

Sam blinked. “Wait, what? What’s my name?”

“Yeah. Is that— is that not okay?” Rose looked uncertain, rubbing the back of her head. “Is that too much?”

“No, it’s— seriously, Rose?”

Rose gave him a distressed look, and Sam realized she was absolutely serious.

“Hey, hey, Rose, it’s okay,” Sam said, lifting both hands soothingly and stepping towards her. “I just, I thought you recognized me.”

“Nooo,” Rose said. “I’ve never met, I mean, you’re the first, um. I don’t know anyone your… height.”

“So you really don’t know who I am?”

Rose shook their head.

“Sam,” Sam said.

“Oh, does he know you?” Rose asked. “Are you friends?”

Sam laughed. “No, Rose, you’re as bad as Dr. Doofenshmirtz. I don’t know Sam, I am Sam.”

Rose squinted at him. “No you’re not.”

“What? Yes I am.”

“No, Sam’s much taller than you. I may not be great with faces in unfamiliar contexts, but I do know that much.”

Sam paused for a moment, trying to figure out where they’d talked past each other. “Rose,” he said slowly, “what secret did you think I was asking you to keep?”

“Borrowers exist?” Rose said hesitantly. “… why, what was it really?”

“I’m a sizeshifter.”

Rose processed that. “You’re a sizeshifter.”

“Yep.”

“So borrowers don’t exist?”

“Not to my knowledge, no. Sorry.”

Rose was quiet for a few seconds more. “So, what, you just decided climbing my staircase like a mountain would be more fun than hanging out and watching cartoons?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Not even a little bit.”

“Why, then? And if you’re really a sizeshifter and not a borrower, why not sizeshift back to normal and prove it? Is that the right way to say that?”

Sam nodded. “It is. I can’t do it on command.”

“You can’t?”

“I cannot.”

“So you can’t prove that you’re a sizeshifter?”

“Also no. At least, not at the moment.” Sam shrugged. “If you’re willing to wait an unspecified amount of time, I can prove it.”

Rose still looked doubtful. Sam wasn’t sure what else to tell her. Then he had an idea.

“One moment.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly tapped out a text.

“Okay, I didn’t expect borrowers to have tiny tech” Rose admitted.

“Yeah, and I bet you wouldn’t expect a borrower to have your number, either.”

Rose’s hand went to their hip, and then they started patting their pockets and looking around. “I do not have my phone.”

Sam sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Of course not. Did you leave it in the kitchen?”

“Maybe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s go find it. Mind giving me a lift? It’s a bit of a commute for someone with short little legs like me.”

Rose gave him a startled look. “What, you mean, like carry you?”

“Well, yeah. How else?”

“I dunno, I just. I didn’t think you’d wanna… you sure?”

Sam nodded. “ Course. I trust you. Just don’t drop me.”

“Okay, well.” Rose started to reach for him, hesitated, and pulled her hand back again. “Have you, um. Have you done this before?”

“I have not.”

Rose nodded. “Right. Me neither.” They still looked hesitant to touch him.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to,” Sam said, moving toward the edge of the step. “I can walk; you might have to wait up a bit though. Or go on ahead.” He leaned over the edge a bit, gauging the distance to the step below. Yeah, that was at least twice his height. Sam shrugged a bit, took two steps back for a running start, and jumped off the stair. Rose yelped.

Sam landed in a pair of cupped palms after far less falling than suited the drop.

“What were you thinking!?” Rose exclaimed. “You can’t just jump off of things! What if you got hurt?”

Sam looked up at her. He had to look pretty much straight up now, since she had lunged forward and her face was now directly above him. Sam shrugged. “I don’t take fall damage?”

“Don’t take— And you didn’t think to mention that first?”

Sam shrugged again, this time using his entire arms in the gesture. “Sorry?”

Rose opened her mouth to say something else, paused with it open, then shook her head and shut it again. She stood up. “Yeah, I’m giving you a ride.”

Sam grinned. “Great!”

Rose rolled her eyes at him.

The trip to the kitchen didn’t take as long as it would have if Sam had walked, but it was longer than if he’d been tall enough to walk normally, because Rose carried him like they had water cupped in their palms and didn’t want to spill it.

When they reached the kitchen, Rose stood just inside the doorway, looking around for their phone. Sam spotted it first. “There!” he said, pointing.

Rose walked over to it, then hesitated, looking down at him again. Sam chuckled, patting her thumb and looking right back up at her. “You can put me down, or you can hold me with just one hand. I’m okay with either.”

Rose nodded, biting her lip in concentration, and shifted him ever-so-delicately into her left hand. With her right, she picked up her phone, unlocked it, and read the text Sam had sent.

“‘How is a borrower trying to impersonate me more believable than me actually being a sizeshifter?’” A beat. “Yeah, okay, I believe you, you’re you.”

Sam grinned. “Great! Would you mind deleting that text, by the way?”

“But it’s my only proof I’m not dreaming or something,” Rose protested.

Sam gestured at the all of himself again, with both hands this time. “Secret,” he reminded them. “What if someone stole your phone data?”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Do you honestly think this is the weirdest text you’ve sent me? Or even the weirdest text with zero context around it?”

Sam considered that. “Okay, yeah, you’ve got me there,” he admitted.

“So I’m guessing photographic evidence is out?”

“Extremely.”

Rose nodded. “I can live with that. Though you are pretty cute like that.”

Sam laughed happily. “I like to think I’m always cute.”

“You are. But you’re particularly cute when you’re itty bitty.”

Sam grinned, scrunching his eyes up in happiness.

“Itty bitty little Sammy,” Rose continued, patting him gently on the head.

Sam laughed again. “You just like being taller than me for once.”

“I mean, that is nice. But also you are small and cute.”

Sam put the back of his hand under his chin and grinned. “Aww, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” Rose poked him in the shoulder. “Hey, so. You were going up the stairs when I found you… did you ever make it to the bathroom?”

“No… but I didn’t actually need to go,” Sam said with a shrug. “I just needed an excuse to get out of the room before I shrank.”

“Hm. Okay. Wanna watch more cartoons?”

Sam perked up. “Yeah!”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Impossibilities for All

Numb legs. Dry mouth. Cold sweat.

Light shone from buzzing streetlamps and from lonesome windows, a hollow valley of brick and steel. Stars twinkled in the black sky, far above.

The tapping of sneakers echoed arrhythmically, sometimes scraping across asphalt whenever exhaustion weighed them down enough to drag. When she shouted, only her own echoes answered.

Lifeless cars stood parked along the sides of the streets. A piece of newspaper rustled as it danced madly on a gust of wind, tumbling down the sidewalk.

She had been running for what felt like forever. Her sides hurt. Even more so every time she stopped to rattle at locked doors or bang on them with her fists or call for help. Things she did less and less frequently because they proved to feel more and more pointless.

Advertisement posters of smiling people stared at her with lifeless eyes and muted corporate colors from the sides of a graffiti-covered bus stop, and neon signs glowed everywhere in the windows of shops and from the tops of tall buildings.

Yet with all these signs of a world that should be teeming with life, a city that supposedly never slept—even in this witching hour—she was all alone. Every street, every alley, every corner; all devoid of life. A husk of an urban metropolis.

Completely abandoned except for her and her pursuer. And the trail of blood she was leaving wherever she stumbled, dripping from an arm and a leg.

Every glance she shot behind her, he remained absent. But she knew he would show up any second now. If not after looking over her shoulder the sixth time, then the seventh. He had been following her since she stumbled drunk out of the party, and he had killed her friends with a crowbar.

He turned a corner and stood at the end of the street crossing from where she had just run.

As far as his attire was concerned, he looked normal. Normal as far as crazy serial killers were concerned. Crinkled three-piece suit. Holding a crowbar in one hand, hanging down with something dark dripping from it.

Just some guy. Just some crazy guy.

Just… minus a head.

And yet he walked. He walked quickly—he walked quicker than her.

And when she started running, so did he.

She did not even bother with yelling. Just no point.

Breath had to be saved. Her weary legs had to carry her faster, she had to make up for her limping, and the distance between them would shrink quickly. The sound of Kelly's skull cracking underneath the swings of that crowbar still haunted her. Rob had tried to fight back, and the end of the crowbar ripped his eyeball out with the first sickening crunch, not to mention what it must have done to the rest of his head after other blows had followed.

The headless guy with the crowbar was unstoppable. Merciless.

And just a little bit too fast for her. The deaths of her friends had bought just enough time for her to run away.

She tripped on the curb and stumbled and caught herself before running right inside a movie theater where the doors stood wide open. The letters on the glowing sign above the entrance read

THE PIANIST

Not a soul in here either, just wide-open halls with velvety red rugs and brass decor and a diffuse, warm light. Would have been nice under other circumstances.

Her breathing ran ragged, her lungs burned like they had been doused in gasoline and set on fire. She shoved her way inside a bathroom door and grabbed it from the inside and pulled it shut in hopes of stopping it from swinging—and making her pursuer struggle to find her here.

She backed away from the door and when her sneaker squeaked on the bright white clean tiles underfoot, she gasped and held her breath.

She even caught a drop of her own blood in her hand before it could hit the ground. Had to make sure he could not find her here.

She backed farther away and crept into one of the stalls and closed it behind her and locked it and stood up on top of the toilet seat where she crouched down, doing her best to not make a sound, trying not to breathe despite wanting to vomit, and her nostrils flaring more and more, and trembling all over the longer she denied her lungs that vital air.

Footsteps thumped outside. He had caught up. Ran down the movie theater hallway in his mad chase.

The thundering footsteps went right past the door to the ladies' room.

She allowed herself to breathe.

Then the running stopped.

Her breath stuttered, freezing as she held it once more, letting the searing pain in her lungs flare back up again.

Thump, thump, thump. THUD.

The bathroom door creaked as it slowly opened.

A shoe screeched when it twisted on the squeaky-clean tiles of the floor, punctuating nearing of his footsteps.

WHAM.

The door to the first stall slammed.

"You did this to me," said a raspy, gurgling voice.

The first time he had spoken since losing his head. How in the hell was he speaking, anyway?

WHAM.

The door to the second stall slammed against the wall.

"You did this to me, and you will pay," said Headless.

She had done this to him. Just yesterday. She somehow knew it had to be him.

She had bumped into him on a crowded sidewalk and down he went, tumbling right into the street where a fast truck blared its horns and swerved too late—where its massive tractor winged his head. Headless looked more like his head had been sliced off at the neck and less like half his skull had been smashed to bloody bits of bone and brain by a speeding truck. But to her, there was no doubt.

It had to be him.

WHAM.

The door to the third stall slammed against the wall.

Last door before reaching the one she hid behind.

"I'mma need all I can get to have a new head reattached," said the voice, crowned by something like retching sounds. Bubbling with anger.

Thud. THUD. THUD.

He kicked away at the door to her stall.

"I-I d-don't have any m-money on m-m-me," she stammered out in pleading. "B-b-but I have money! I can get you money, man, just l-l-leave me alone!"

She did not really. She lived on the edge of poverty even her attire said otherwise. Like most people she knew, like most people who lived outside the center of the city. But she would have promised to pluck the blue out of the sky for him at this point.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

Headless reared back and then lunged at the door with his heaviest kick.

THWUD!

Whatever the bathroom stall walls and doors were made of, it all splintered once he jammed the crowbar in and started jimmying it open, widening the gap to sharp sounds of the material snapping and breaking entirely.

She shrieked when he cracked open the lock far enough to reveal his decapitated silhouette.

WHAM.

She screamed when he kicked the busted door fully open.

Headless pulled his crowbar back in both hands, readying to bring it crashing down on her skull with full force.

She flinched before he even lunged. Slipping on the edge of the seat, one of her shoes slid straight into the toilet and got immediately soaked. She flailed her arms to break her own fall and accidentally flushed.

Fa-WOOSH.

Water splashed everywhere, shooting cold wet up all around her. She sputtered and her hands found no traction on the walls of the stall, fingertips and palms just skidding down as she fell and fell and fell.

The vortex of water dragged her down, the horizon transformed into the toilet's bowl, and the crowbar smashed into its edge like a dark meteor, exploding in an avalanche of white ceramic chunks the size of boulders that chased her down the spiraling world, spinning around and around, making her dizzy and sick but also impossible to see as she screwed her eyes shut in the flood of water, flushed right down the toilet.

Impossible?

Sure. But Headless was impossible, too.

She left behind one impossibility for the next, shooting down dark watery corridors like a kid riding down a slide in a water park. Except that her clothing was drenched, her lungs burned even brighter as she held her breath to not inhale whatever water enveloped her, and horror shook her with a chest-bursting fear of death.

Everything else was drowned out.

The dark tunnels meandered, pushing her along and slamming her against the sides of metal walls surrounding her.

Then the flood abruptly ejected her into a brighter environment. Even with her eyes shut, she could tell that some lights glared around her. She hit the ground hard and rolled, water splashing and spraying all around.

Finally, she dared to breathe, gasping for air. The pain of having skinned her knuckles and knees set in with delay. Trembling and bloody as she surveyed the damage, she pushed herself up off the ground.

Asphalt. Back out on the empty streets again.

Her thigh and her arm also hurt from where the crowbar had hit her in their previous encounter. She spat and got up and then instantly bent forward as a wave of nausea welled up inside and made her entire body buckle. A jet of vomit shot from her mouth before she could pull her hair back, splattering the street, and emptying her insides of all the booze and finger food she had ingested in that night.

The rancid, stinging taste lingered, and her eyes had teared up so much that the neon-colored nightscape blurred around her, yet she still distinctly noticed something odd in the splash of vomit, staring at it in disbelief and disgust.

Some pills. Not any she remembered popping and nothing from her prescription.

Had someone slipped her those somehow?

But how?

It was not like you could just roofie someone without them noticing. And if it had been in the food, these things should have dissolved beyond recognition by now. It had been hours, right?

With trembling fingers, she wiped some chunks and gobs of vomit from her strands of hair and then pushed it all out of her face. The smell only diminished with delay.

Finally had a chance, finally stood still, and looked around. Her clothing was sopping wet like she had been in a swimming pool, still dripping like crazy, admixing with the smells of iron and dirt. The cool breeze made her shiver beyond the exhaustion and pain and terror wracking her body with tremors.

The asphalt around her was wet and the gushing of water never stopped, sloshing and sloshing in an infinite torrent behind her. It still sprayed from a busted fire hydrant on the side of the street.

The nightly city around her, however, was still just as deserted and abandoned as before. She reckoned she might be stuck in a nightmare, but the pain said otherwise.

She stopped looking around—not only because it was making her feel dizzy and queasy all over again, but because her gaze came to rest upon the crowbar on the ground.

Droplets of watery residue on the black iron of the crowbar reflected all the colorful lights from her environment.

She snatched the tool up and gripped it in both hands, muttering a curse under her breath from the fiery pain of her knuckles stretching where top layers of skin had broken, exposing the ones beneath with a sheen of fresh blood.

With the crowbar in her hands, she staggered away. And walked. Finally breathed, defying all the pain and the cold and the terror.

Every glance over her shoulder helped ensure that Headless was nowhere to be seen. She wandered the streets, not as desperate to find help anymore. Somehow, she had just given up, even if she was still far from accepting death and welcoming its dark embrace. It had all made way to anxiety, a simmering dread of being all alone in this huge, soulless city.

Walking past a darkened storefront window, her own mirror image made her stop. Made her choke. Made her stare in disbelief.

She was wearing a business suit now. A perfect fit, crinkled and in need of ironing, but it would have looked good on her under other circumstances.

Impossible?

Sure, but she had just flushed herself down a toilet only moments ago.

In disbelief, she looked down, patted herself down. To ensure that it was not just the reflection, to make sure she was not just losing her mind.

Indeed, she was wearing the crinkled suit. Just like Headless earlier, though tailored to fit her frame. Still drenched. It would take forever to dry; she would catch her death by exposure in the cold air like this. She needed to find a safe haven somewhere.

Hell, she needed to limp her way to an ER. Headless may have busted her leg and her arm.

She still bled.

And then: voices.

Voices echoed down the streets. The tiny flame of hope flickered in the back of her mind. It flared up into a flame and shone brighter than any nagging doubt.

Traffic, too. A horn honked somewhere else.

She jogged down the sidewalk, rounded the next corner, and there they were.

Everybody. The city was as alive as it should be, even this late at night. Some people loitered around at a bus station, waiting for a ride home. The red taillights of a car glowed at the next crossing; its engine purred as it took off from where it stood when the traffic lights turned green.

She approached the group at the bus station. They were fully engrossed in whatever conversation they had going on. It sounded somewhat unimportant, but then again, it all sounded like incoherent slurring to her. Had she suffered a concussion, too?

Some of them drunkenly swayed, visibly having spent some time at a party just like the one she had come from.

She fought the urge to cry out, did not want to come across as a crazy person. Instead, she limped over to them.

Other than a few furtive glances laden with disgust like she was some sort of homeless person, they paid no attention to her.

She reached up to tap one of the guys there on the shoulder, and he swiveled.

Too quickly—he bumped into her.

And she fell, stumbling right into the street.

The honking horns of a truck blared as it sped by the bus stop in that very same moment, cleaving off the top of her skull and spraying the asphalt with bits of bone and brain matter.

The people around were all shocked, scarred for life, one of them screamed in terror. Just like she had when this happened to Headless the day prior.

When the police officers had concluded their investigation and someone zipped up the body bag, the world went dark, and the air tasted like plastic.

The zipper opened to a place of blinding bright light, phosphorous white in color and exuding an unbelievably cold air. Machines uncaringly beeped and hummed around her.

Strange figures in surgical masks—their heads horned like devils—all huddled around her bed and leaned over her. They looked like they were dressed like hospital staff, but the objects they held and wielded looked more like they belonged in a workshop's collection of power tools for woodworking.

The spinning saw blade cleanly cut through skin and bone with a high-pitched whine and squelching whenever it had to sever the softer tissue. Though she could not resist, could not fight back, and just witness; at the very least it did not hurt. The demonic doctors took off what little remained of her head until only the flat stump of a headless neck remained.

Eventually, a third demon showed up with a clipboard, studying it with hollow eye sockets and then turning his head as if to lock eyes with where hers should have been.

"It says here that your faith plan does not include body part replacements. Unless you can pay the soul exchange out of your own pocket, you'll have to make do like this for now," said the demon doctor.

He shoved the glasses back up the bridge of his nose which made little sense because he had no eyes to speak of. He sighed and flipped a page on the clipboard, then turned away with a shrug.

Minutes later, two orderlies carried her by the arms and tossed her outside the hospital entrance where she landed on her ass, just as if they were bouncers throwing a troublesome drunk out of a nightclub.

The crowbar clanked as it landed on the sidewalk next to her. The demons in white outfits disappeared back inside, and the sliding doors closed behind them.

Now that she was Headless, she saw no other option than to reap some souls. Not that she saw anything at all, strictly speaking—she just knew these things instinctively.

And she might as well start with the guy who had bumped into her and killed her.

Bastard was probably out there, somewhere, partying.

He had done this to her.

And he would pay.

—Submitted by Wratts

[cinnamonbunsenburner]

A Witchy Situation *Oikawa Tooru x Witch! Reader University AU*

You were panicking. The cauldron you had ordered online was not going to make it for the full moon tomorrow night. Frustrated, you tossed your phone to the bed and threw yourself to the ground dramatically, throwing a tantrum like a kid.

‘It’s the moon’s fault, gods damn it! All this energy is making me fucking crazy and now this shitty cauldron wouldn’t make it for my ritual to rid myself off the bad energies this past month!!’, you vented in your mind. 

You continued to weakly pound your fists on your bedroom floor when you suddenly heard the soft pitter patter of the rain. 

“RAIN. WHERE ARE MY JARS?!”, you exclaimed out loud. You were internally thankful that your boyfriend wasn’t home because you cannot for the life of you stutter out a believable explanation on why you were gonna place several mason jars and bowls on your patio. It was enough that you convinced Oikawa that rain water was ‘healthier’ for your indoor plants *it wasn’t* rather than tap water.

You gathered some of your jars, which were empty because you recently performed a protection ritual in your shared apartment, and placed them  carefully on the floor of your patio to catch some rain water that you were going to charge under the full moon tomorrow night. 

As you went back inside, you decided to light some incense to smoke cleanse the apartment and your used tools. You spread them out on the living room floor, carefully putting some crystals to cleanse in a bowl that’s full of salt and the non-soluble ones in a bowl full of the last of your rain water. 

‘It feels to stuffy in here ugh,’ you thought, grimacing as it might influence your behaviour even more. Looking at the clock, you still had about two hours before your boyfriend comes home from practice. You opened the windows and began lighting your incense with the intent of cleansing all the negative energy that roamed around. You started with your used tools and moved to the rest of the apartment. As you went into the kitchen you couldn’t help but stare at the several jars of herbs and spices decorated .. everywhere. 

When you were beginning your craft *which was also the time when you and your boyfriend moved in together*, you suddenly felt the need to stack up on some herbs with different magickal properties despite not doing spells yet. Then came the hoarding of jars, crystals, incense, and of course, candles. But it was mainly herbs that you kept on buying. It wasn’t until Oikawa pointed out that you were wasting money when you could plant your own. And that was the birth of your obsession with plants. 

Two years later, your mini herb garden influenced your hot as fuck boyfriend to also grow his flower and vine garden as well. It was the happiest day of your life when Oikawa brought home three different kinds of flowers and a vine of some sort, saying that you two are going to breath the freshest air with the amount of plants that you have. And you couldn't wish for something more amazing than that.

‘We’re plant parents y/n! Oh! We should name all of them.’

‘They already have names Tooru-’

‘Nonsense! Those are LABELS, y/n-chan. Our plants need more respect and freedom of expression!’

You eventually gave in and now all of the pots of all the plants have names. Yes, your idiotically endearing boyfriend memorised their names like the back of his hand. 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. Sometimes you don’t know if Tooru’s secretly a green witch or something with the way he cares for each of the plants. But nevertheless, you loved it. You loved him.

‘Damn it, I’m simping so hard again. That's his job, not mine! Ugh I love my idiot so much’, you face palmed your most probably red face. 

You finished cleansing the entire apartment and put out the incense, heading towards the bathroom for a shower. 

---

You were just finishing up with your night skin care routine *charged with a beauty sigil and positive intent, obviously* when you heard your front door open. 

“Behold, your prince has come bearing food!”, Oikawa’s voice echoed loudly. It was a saturday so it was Tooru’s turn to buy dinner. It was something you guys talked about. 

You two would always take turns in either buying or making dinner. Even if there was a misunderstanding between the two of you, that ‘treaty’ as Oikawa had put it, would always be followed. One time, there was a particularly large fight between the both of you *you can’t remember anything from it anymore but you two had definitely learned from it * that provoked the both of you to raise your voices at one another. 

You both soon realise your toxic attitude in avoiding problems and bottling it up, letting it burst at the second it was too much to set aside. From then on, no matter how small the issue is in your personal lives, you talk it out while eating dinner. Sure, it might cause a slight disagreement but you two actually preferred it that way rather than letting it boil further into a huge melting pot that may risk a permanent tear in your relationship *yes, you two had opened up about this. And yes, Oikawa is indeed an ugly crier. But hey, at least your problems are solved sooner than later.*

You froze as you remembered that you had accidentally left your witchy stuff out in the open. You weren't particularly closeted but you weren't ready to tell your boyfriend. You were sure though that he already had a hunch once you hoarded some stuff that you normally didn’t pay attention to. And with his knowledge of extraterrestrials and the unknown, it’s going to shock you if he still doesn't suspect you of being a witch.

You quickly put down your brush and rushed to meet your now suspiciously quiet boyfriend. You found him crouched on the floor poking at the crystals in your salt bowl while holding your wand in the other hand. 

“Tooru! You’re home! ahahaha, that’s nothing to be,” you closed off your book of witchcraft that was bearing a chapter introduction to blood magick. “thought about too much,” you said nervously, tucking your arms behind you as you stared off to the side. He looked up at you while his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“..One of your crystals are kinda goopy and kinda melting there in the water y/n-chan,” Oikawa pointed at your bowl full of rain water. 

“Eh?”, you stared back at him.

It was an awkward silence after a few moments, neither knew how to react. He blinked at you.

And you blinked back at him.

...

“...crap, my Selenite.”

“Uh.. yeah. It’s kinda dissolving so I think you should take it out”

You snapped out of it and quickly sat beside him to attempt to salvage your water soluble crystal. The said crystal doesn’t even NEED to be cleansed. It was partially dissolved and your eye twitched, thinking that this was such a rookie mistake and you were a stupid witch and now your boyfriend probably thinks that you’re crazy and-

“I have food. Wanna talk about it?”, Oikawa smiled softly, letting go of your wand and began arranging the food on the table.  

You looked at him, surprised that he was taking these things lightheartedly. The man even had a smile on his pretty face and was humming some kind of happy song. 

The two of you fell in a semi-comfortable silence as both of you ate.

Oikawa looked at you with an unreadable expression. It made a literal waterfall of sweat drop down behind your back despite the cool temperature. He put down his chopsticks and laced his hands on the table. The opening of his mouth to speak seemed like it was on slow motion and you were preparing yourself for the worst.

‘Oh gods, here it comes’, you thought, panicking more and more.

.

.

.

.

.

“Sooo... can you curse someone for me?”

“Eh?”

“I have this weird classmate who just kept on clicking his pen repeatedly during exams and it’s SO FRUSTRATING. Like-”

“Now wait a damn minute pretty boy,” your eyes twitched at his literal dismissal of the not-so-normal things that he just saw. “Y-you’re not gonna break up with me? Or like say that I should be burned while tied to a post??” At this point you probably blinked your eyes out at his unexpected reaction.

“Why would I do that? You’re still my girlfriend, right?” he tilted his head to the side before his eyes widened and he gasped loudly. “UNLESS YOU’RE NOT?!!! BAD DEMON. GET OUT OF MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL’S HOT BODY. I’LL GET THE SALT, I SWEAR!” Oikawa exclaimed while reaching towards the salt shaker on the end of the table *it wasn’t salt lol*.

“WHAT- NO YOU IDIOT! IT’S ME-”

“THAT’S WHAT DEMONS SAY AAAHH. Y/N-CHAN THERE’S A SHAPE SHIFTER DOWN HERE TRYING TO KILL ME. IT WANTS TO DONATE MY ORGANS FOR POWER.” 

“DEMONS DON’T EVEN DO THAT. TOORU THAT’S NOT EVEN THE SALT, THAT’S SUGAR-”

Let’s just say it took a while to convince your overdramatic boyfriend that it was you.