#dead master within you as if it's a joke. as if that's funny. as if that's a good thing. and people say he would be proud but would he?

[jedi-starbird]

No one ever tells Obi-Wan that he is his Master's padawan.

Of course, for most people who had known Qui-Gon Jinn, telling someone else they resembled the the man would in fact be a thinly veiled insult. But still, Obi-Wan feels the absence of comparisons almost as strongly as he feels the absence of his Master.

There is no one for Obi-Wan to push against now, no strong presence at his side, ready to grab him by scruff and pull him back from another reckless stunt. It's an odd feeling. He has been set loose against his wishes. There is no one to his left and Anakin at his heels, but Anakin had needed, still needs, a strong, gentle figure for his prickly but sensitive heart. For even their worst bickering could not hold a candle to the scathing remarks he and Qui-Gon had shot at each other and Obi-Wan knows he cannot push and needle Anakin in the same way.

When Qui-Gon had been alive they had been an amusing, mirrored pair, the maverick and his rule-following padawan. Opposites clashing against each other, yet working together to complete the most difficult missions. Few saw that Qui-Gon's impertinence had indeed rubbed off on his padawan, cultivated from that small, angry initiate, because the only way to rebel against the rule-breaker had been to parrot the Council fastidiously. No one would ever get to see that again. Obi-Wan is one half of a mirrored pair trying to complete a routine on his own. What once was an impish, teasing compliance is now a betrayal of all his Master's values.

"How could Qui-Gon raise such a model Jedi?" He hears them say, "It's admirable that Master Kenobi was appointed to the Council despite his Master's maverick ways."

Padawan Kenobi would have yelled and kicked and screamed. Master Kenobi is serene. It should feel like an achievement. It feels like a disappointment.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan looks at the shape of the man he has moulded himself into, and aches to be his Master's padawan.

[deadghosy]

ੈ🎐༄˖°.〰˚✩彡

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH AANG:

prompt: being the same age as Aang, mostly the avatar has it perks considering you two are polar opposites

🐚 ྀ࿓it’s dead ass funny seeing two 12 years argue who sheds more, momo or appa. Katara would have to pull you off of Aang before you slap this little Mr clean head ass boy.

🐚 ྀ࿓for shits and giggles, you have definitely got launched in the air. You were begging Aang to just launch you in the air. Because you always dreamed of it since you met this airbender.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is pretty much protective of you if you can’t bend. So if you are a non bender, you better believe this boy makes sure you are by his side at all times of the traveling. Even after he finishes the Hundred year war. He’s the avatar, of course there’s still petty ass people after him.

🐚 ྀ࿓now if you weren’t a non bender and had a bending skill of some sort, he is still protective of you. You could be a master at bending, and this dude will still make sure you are behind him in danger. You two are such a powerful duo when bending, now a good trio is you, toph, and Aang at all once.

🐚 ྀ࿓you two are basically platonic soulmates who are always found by each other. Like that one time you went to go shopping at a market, and Aang followed you secretly since it’s his job to protect you at all time. Or that one time you lost Aang in the crowd and he immediately found you by your voice in an instant.

🐚 ྀ࿓”I’m gonna kill that asshole…” “please don’t.” Those words basically describes your friendship with Aang. Literally after Aang got his grow spurt and he was taller than you, you better believe this now wise boy would put you on his shoulder to drag you away from fights.

🐚 ྀ࿓you are the chaos in the peace and he is the peace within the chaos. You two are two peas in a pond, yin & yang. You have your moments where it’s the opposite sometimes. But where’s the fun when you create the problems whilst Aang has to drag you away from causing more problems.

🐚 ྀ࿓smack his head…he dares you. He knows you do it for jokes. But this boy is tired of having red hand marks on his head and feeling the painful burn.. if you did one more time, he is actually putting you in rock time out. You could try to get out. But this airbender is making sure he is having a kick out of this.

🐚 ྀ࿓when training with Aang, he tries to go easy on while you don’t. Of course you care about Aang deeply like he does for you, but you ain’t no pussy. You literally used chi blocking on him cause he hesitated blasting you away with his airbending. At the end you had to smack his head for trying to not blast you. And of course he still didn’t learn his listen as he just dodges.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is very affectionate person, everyone knows that. So of course he is holding your hand, waist if you allow it, wrap his arm around your shoulder. He might not be that much of a touchy person, but it feels nice to have the person that’s like his other half by him.

🐚 ྀ࿓cuddles is a must if you or him have a bad day. Yes you once snored while trying to move away from the airbender in your sleep. Aang wasn’t letting that happen at all cause he pulled you to his chest as he falls asleep.

🐚 ྀ࿓random arguments with Aang is also a must as you two argue over the most stupidest things ever. Say for example, your favorite book was gone. So you accused Aang of using it for something actually dumb. Aang got offended as he dramatically gasp and blamed you instead for being so dense for not keeping up with your stuff. And that’s where you would tackle him and start hitting his head. Mostly smacking his bald head cause it’s funny😭

🐚 ྀ࿓this sweetheart of an airbender will teach you about his culture. Now if you are part of one of the nations, you teach him your nation of course. It’s like trading Pokémon cards for more Pokémon cards. He will probably do something so you can wear an airbender outfit, just so people can see you two are best friends for life. Literally.

🐚 ྀ࿓I can see you trying to ignore Aang for something petty, and Aang is not having it as communication is key. He will literally pick you up over his shoulder and put you down so he can talk to you face to face. He’s serious about you, so of course he’s not letting you be this petty.

🐚 ྀ࿓yk how Aang had his hair grown out, yeah you actually liked it grown out like that. It was cute and you told him that in confidence. At first he thought you were lying so you can make fun of it. But when he saw how you kept playing with his hair. He actually was thinking about keep his hair grown out like this. His darkish brown hair was suiting on him. He’d actually fall asleep with his head on you as you play with it.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang will never forget the moment he almost went avatar state for you. All because you wanted to be reckless and almost died. A fire nation soldier tried to burn you alive, but you were quick to dodge it. While for Aang, he didn’t get a clear view to see if you dodged it or not. So this man’s tattoos glowed scared and worried. Mostly angry if you died as he was about to burn the solider. Kyoshi was telling him to. But that all stopped when you grabbed his shoulder. Aang stops to look at you and hug you tightly, his heart went back to normal sped.

🐚 ྀ࿓to end this off, you guys are practically platonic soulmates who are made to be by each other’s side. Aang agrees and you, you just nod while you stuff your face in food. And Aang eats calmly compared to you. So if you choke on your food, he is smacking the shit out of your back worried if you actually choke on your food.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

The Tortured Fangirl's Department - My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

| Paul Lahote x human!reader

summary: Paul hates you, but imprinted on you. He's not happy about it. 🐺🌲⛰️🌧️

cw: violence, gore, toxic relationship, Paul being an asshole, drinking

an: forever #teampaul.

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You arrived in Forks on a research grant, studying Old Wood Forests for your Masters Degree in Environmental Science. As you conduct your research, you feel more and more at home in Washington, and immerse yourself in the local community and history.

The more you learn about the history of the Quileute Tribe and it's connection to the surrounding ecosystem, the more you dig, until eventually you uncover a secret never meant for human eyes.

The Quileutes are a pack of werewolves, living in secret on the Reservation.

Of course, they quickly figure out that you're onto them, and you're dragged into a harrowing trial with Chief Billy Black and the pack’s alpha, Sam Uley. After hours of deliberation, and you begging for your life, they decide to allow you to live on one condition: you remain in Forks and never publish what you've found.

You agree instantly, grateful to be spared, and the pack brings you into the inner circle, including putting you up in a small house on the edge of La Push.

All seems to have worked out swimmingly, until Emily invites you to the alpha’s home for a bonfire so you can formally meet everyone.

Paul Lahote was livid when he learned that Sam had spared you. An outsider, a traitor. If it was up to him, you would have long ago been forest food, their secrets safe within the soil.

Paul had never met you, but he didn't trust you, didn't like the way you weaseled yourself into his beloved family. You were good as dead, as far as he was concerned.

That is, until he walks into Emily's kitchen, finding you peeling potatoes at the table, laughing at some joke Embry told, and his world imploded.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Six months later

Whoever said imprinting was the world's greatest blessing was full of fucking shit.

Paul glared at you across the fire, nibbling on a s’more and nursing a beer as if you fucking belonged here. Those were his beers. The packs s'mores.

What he would really like to know, is where you got the fucking audacity.

“Think louder, would’ya?” Jacob teased, knocking his shoulder. “She figured out what was making the fern grove sick, she deserves a beer.”

Paul rolled his eyes, throwing back the rest of his beer and stomping off to the booze table. Who cares about fucking plants, anyways?

You flicked your h/c hair over your shoulder, the glossy waves reflecting the orange firelight. Seth cracked some lame joke and you burst out laughing, the sound like the first spring rain.

Pain bloomed in chest, an ache he felt to the marrow, and he had to grip the table to stay upright, had to look away from your pretty smile. A war waged within him. Make you laugh again, or ensure it's your final one?

The table cracked under his grip.

“Lahote,” Sam warned in his mind. “Easy.”

Paul eased his grip, tried to control his breathing, his anger. He'd worked so hard on managing his rage, he wouldn't let you ruin that progress.

You'd already ruined everything else in his life.

Carefully, he stepped away, ensuring the table wasn't about to collapse before sitting back down beside Jacob with a fresh beer. He should just go inside, or out on a patrol. Anything but sit here and suffer your existence.

But something rooted him to the log, periodically scanning the perimeter behind you to ensure nothing pale and sparkly lurked in the shadows.

If anything would have the pleasure of ending your little existence, it would be him.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul seemed extra scowly tonight, his handsome face pinched in perpetual disdain.

You laughed a little louder at Seth's decidedly not funny impersonation of Sam, just to see Paul's frown deepen. And it did, his ire as predictable as a clock.

You knew he had imprinted on you, everyone within a ten miles radius knew he imprinted on you, but somehow, it only seemed to deepen his loathing.

If only they'd seen his face when he first saw you.

It was probably cruel of you to exploit his involuntary affliction, but you just couldn't help yourself. He just made it so easy. And it didn't help that he was hot as fuck when the claws came out.

You polished off your beer, enjoying the gentle buzz humming in your veins. A terrible, wicked idea popped into your head.

Moving towards the table, you snagged a bottle of whiskey, the one you happened to know was Paul's favorite, and poured yourself a micro shot. His dark eyes were already on you, glaring a hole into your back. Fighting a smirk, you slammed the shot back. You let out a small, deliberate moan as the alcohol burned its way through the chill lingering on your skin.

Every unpaired wolf perked up a bit at the sound, those whores, and you could practically feel the rage buffeting off Paul as he stared at you.

“You have a deathwish, girl.” Leah teased, offering you another shot. “I like it.”

You grinned up at her, accepting the liquor. Leah flinched then, her smile pulling into a grimace, and she took the shot back before you could drink it.

“You might have a deathwish, but I sure don't.” She swallowed the shot herself, patted you sympathetically on the shoulder, and returned to her spot by Seth.

The rest of the night, the pack continued to snatch drinks from you. You couldn't even sneak a sip, with their ridiculous hearing and sense of smell catching you as soon as the alcohol touched your lips.

Even Seth slapped a shot out of your hand.

“What the fuck!” You shouted at him, your buzz very nearly gone.

Seth winced. “His orders,” he said, tilting his head towards Paul, who was busy tearing into a turkey leg.

I think the fuck not.

You marched over to him, snatched his sweating, unopened can of beer off the table, and jammed your pocket knife into it. With a crack, you opened it and pressed your mouth to the hole, shot-gunning it in ten seconds flat.

A personal record.

As soon as you dropped the empty can onto the ground, you regretted all of your life choices.

Paul was on you before you had a chance to step backwards, one massive hand around your throat, the other gripping your pocket knife.

Terror lanced through you, and you watched his pupils dilate as he started down you, white teeth bared. It took you a moment to register that you could still breathe, that he wasn't actually hurting you. In fact, he'd been handling that poor turkey leg more roughly that he was currently holding you.

“Leah was right,” he growled, the sound raising the hair on your arms. “You do have a deathwish.”

“You don't get to control what I can and can't do,” you bit back, pushing your face closer to his to prove that you weren't afraid.

Even though you definitely were afraid, and a little aroused. But mostly afraid.

His nostrils flared when a pulse of desire made your pussy clench, but you couldn't find it in yourself to embarrassed. You knew you turned him on too. And it didn't help that your bodies fit together too right, a jagged pair of puzzle pieces.

“Paul, back off,” Sam ordered. The pack was frozen around you, afraid that one wrong move would result in you losing your throat.

Paul squeezed a little tighter, letting you feel the power he had in this moment. It would be nothing for him to crush your windpipe, to snap your neck.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath tickling the hair around your ear. “I think I can,” he whispered.

He took a step back, and as soon as his hand fell away, Jacob tackled him in his wolf form, creating several feet of space between you.

Paul shifted then, his grey wolf exploding from within, and knocked Jacob backwards. They began to fight in earnest, growling and gnashing as they tumbled through the grass.

Guilt killed the last dregs of your buzz, and your ego. Why did you have to push him? Nothing good could come of it, and it only made him hate you more.

You took off towards your house before the fighting could get any worse, kicking yourself for being so fucking stupid.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Y/n didn't come around for two weeks after that, except to go the store or the library. Paul would know, your house was his first and last stop on every perimeter check.

He'd been visiting even more the last week or so, your absence an unbearable itch under his skin. It was like missing a front tooth, a constant distraction, and he couldn't not prod at it, even though it hurt.

The feeling of your fluttering pulse beneath his fingers became the rhythm of his life. It was burned into his memory, the way you looked up at him, eyes round with fear, the smell of your arousal reaching like hands to squeeze his brain, lulling the beast in his mind to docility.

Every time he looked at you, he saw his forever. A forever of home cooked meals, laughter, warmth. A life that was stolen from him. A life he didn't deserve.

He refused to be domesticated. Especially not by a nosy, manipulative, stubborn little human like you.

It was better you stayed away. That was what he wanted this entire time. Wasn't it?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You couldn't not attend Jacobs birthday party, no matter how badly you wanted to avoid a certain dagger-eyed dime piece.

So you put on a bikini, wide-leg jeans, and an oversized quarter zip, and made your way to the beach. God knows why he wanted to have a bonfire on the beach in fucking October, but it's not like they got cold.

You and Emily would have to stick it out together. Hopefully Sam was considerate enough to pack a blanket.

Everyone was already on the beach, splashing in the frozen water or chatting around the fire. Seth spotted you first.

“Y/n!” He shouted, bounding over to you, shirtless and sandy.

“Are you insane?” You laughed. “It's like 40 degrees!”

“Aw, c’mere.” He wrapped you up in a bear hug, the heat of his skin chasing away the chill already biting through your clothes.

You buried your nose into his shoulder, the tip already numb. “Fuck you guys, seriously,” you mumbled.

Suddenly, Seth was wrenched away from you and you stumbled forward, into a tan brick wall of muscle.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Paul snapped, righting you on the uneven sand before quickly dropping his hands.

“My house?” You answered, quirking an eyebrow. Rarely did he ever address you this directly. Your pulse raced in your chest, terrified, thrilled to see him again. Did he miss me?

“Why?” He demanded.

You couldn't answer him. What were you supposed to say, that you were hiding from him? That you were embarrassed by your own desperation to be close to him? That you craved his attention, his touch, even if it was rough?

At every interaction, he broke you a little bit more. Left you rougher around the edges. But a part of you loved it, craved it. His passion made you feel alive.

“Got sick of your fucking attitude,” you said instead. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say hello to the birthday boy.” You pushed past him, trudging through the sand to Jacob, who was watching from the edge of the water with a bewildered expression.

You shirked your clothes as you went, not caring about the cold any more. Your loathing, your hunger, would keep you warm.

Down to your cherry red bikini, you threw your arms around Jacobs neck, pressing a loud, smacking kiss into his cheek. “Happy birthday, Jake!”

He kept his arms wide, chuckling nervously. “Thanks, y/n. I think the water is a little cold for you—”

“Don't care!” You sing-songed, releasing him and wading deeper into the water. It was definitely too cold for you, the bones in your feet already aching and tingly.

“Just don't get your hair wet—”

You dove into the water, the temperature knocking the air from your lungs, making your whole body clench in aversion. You popped up on the other side, splashing an arc of water at him. “I'll live,” you replied.

He shrugged, splashing you back, and you played in the water with other wolves until your lips started to turn blue, your body shivering too hard to stand upright.

“Y/n, out of the water!” Sam shouted from the shore.

“B-b-but I'm h-hav-ving f-f-f-fun!”

“Now.”

“I'm f-f-fin-n-ne!”

Suddenly, you were airborne, strong arms scooping you up out of the water with a thick blanket. You yelped in surprise, looking up to see Paul, still dressed despite being waist-deep in the water, bundling you into his chest with the blanket wrapped around you.

“H-hey!” You protested, a violent shiver making your teeth clack together.

“Another word and I'll drown you,” he snapped, tucking your toes against his scalding hot ribs as he carried you out of the water.

“F-f-fuck y-y-ou!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul held you close to his chest, your body shaking so hard it was difficult to keep the quilt tucked around you. Your lips were far too blue for his liking, and your teeth were chattering so hard he feared they might crack.

Jacob should have never let you get into that water—no, you weren't Jacob’s responsibility. You were his, as loath as he was to admit it.

You curled into him, the tip of your nose an icecube against his clavicle. “S-s-sorry,” you mumbled.

He looked down at you, shocked.

“For almost killing yourself? Why would I give a shit?”

You fell quiet again, and guilt stabbed him through the chest. He heard your heart rate begin to slow, the cold still taking it's toll. You were so frozen, steam was rising from his skin where you touched, leaving a trail as he carried you to the fire.

He set you down on a pile of blankets as close as he could get to the fire without burning your eyelashes off. He wrapped you up in a dry quilt, then another, and planted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his legs on either side of yours.

“W-what are you—”

“Not a word,” he growled. You were still shivering, your familiar scent tinged with salt water and traces of Jacob and Seth.

He fought against the jealous rage that stirred in stomach, instead focusing on your heart rate, your unsteady breathing.

The pack circled nervously, unsure if they should intervene. When Seth came a little too close, mumbling something about your clothes, Paul growled, a low, menacing rumble from his chest, and Seth scampered off.

The scent of fear spiked when he growled, and he found himself shushing you, burying his head into the blankets against the back of your neck. It was involuntary, acting on the urge to comfort you before he'd even processed it. But it seemed to settle you, so he remained.

It settled him too, the now rhythmic thump of your heart, your even, almost drowsy breathing.

“Can Emily give her a drink?” Sam asked a little while later through the mind connection, almost at a whisper so Paul didn't startle.

“Yes,” Paul answered, and a few moments later, Emily appeared, passing a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

The chocolatey smell mixed with your scent was almost too much, so sweet and decadent. He was beginning to melt like the giant marshmallow on top.

“Hey,” you whispered after a few sips, your voice back to normal

He didn't correct you for speaking, his eyes closed as he wallowed in your scent like a dog in the mud.

“Paul.”

“Hm?” He grunted, lifting his head.

“I'm starting to sweat.”

Reality rushed back to him, shattering the haze in him mind. What the fuck was he doing? You fooled him, just like you fooled the rest of them.

He wrenched away from you, springing to his feet. Your scent was all over him, embedded in his skin, his hair. Driving him insane. You drove him fucking insane.

“Paul, wait.” You scrambled to your feet, dropping one of the blankets, flashing him a glimpse of your little bikini as you reached for him. Fuck, how did he forget your were in a bikini?

“Fuck off, y/n,” he snarled, and you staggered back.

“But—”

“The only reason I pulled you out of that fucking water because of you die, I do to. I don't fucking care about you, imprint or not. You mean nothing to me. You're better off getting that through your thick fucking skull.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, brutal and scathing, and he watched your heart break.

Maybe if he left you in a pile of broken parts on the fucking floor, he'd finally be rid of you.

The wolf came then, shredding the last of his humanity, and he took off into the woods, diving through bushes and trees to scrape your scent off his fur.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Paul left you there, broken on the beach. Sam and Embry followed him into the woods, but the others descended on you, concern clear of their faces.

But you shrugged them off and let Emily, Emily only, walk you home.

You cried yourself to sleep, confused, hurt, angry, devastated. You'd felt something when he held you, like he was holding all of your pieces together, whole for the first time in your life, only to smash you apart again.

You didn't understand, couldn't understand, what he was feeling. Why he was so against this connection that was between you. It's not like he could escape it. The imprint wouldn't magically vanish.

You were tethered together, for better or worse.

For the next several weeks, he avoided you like the plague. If you entered the same room as him, he would leave it. If you walked through town, he'd disappear into the woods.

This place you'd fallen in love with was starting to feel like a prison. Both of you were trapped here, orbiting each other like hostile satellites.

Late one night, you were having a glass of wine at Emily's when frantic voices floated through the open window.

Emily was immediately on her feet, rummaging through cupboards, starting a boiling pot of water. A moment later Sam burst through the door.

“Lahote got shot,” he said to her, then ripped the tablecloth off the tables, sending your wine and the dishes flying.

Your heart dropped through the floor. “What—”

“Where?” Emily said, setting her first aid kit on the counter and starting to rip up some bandages.

“Wait—”

“His side, he can't shift back. Y/n, he—”

The others burst into the room next, four of them carrying an enormous gray wolf on their shoulders. Paul.

“Here, set him here.” Emily gestured to the table, and they slowly eased him onto it. “Oh, God,” Emily hissed, turning to grab more bandages.

Jacob grabbed you before you could get closer. “Don’t, y/n,” he said, his hands covered in blood.

Paul's breath was coming out in broken whines, his entire left side slick with dark blood.

“Why can't he shift?” You asked, panic rising in your throat, choking you.

Jacob didn't answer, his face twisted in pain.

Understanding dawned. If Paul shifted, he would die.

You shoved past Jacob, catching him by surprise, and rushed to Paul's giant head, his eyes pinched shut, muzzle stained with gore.

“Paul,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his head the best you could considering it was the size of your torso, digging your fingers into his thick fur. He was colder than he should be, his heartbeat sluggish.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, you shouldn't. He might hurt you when Em—”

You shook the alpha off, clinging tighter to Paul's fur, breathing in his pine-tinged scent. “I don't care.”

Emily returned with an amber bottle, passing it to you. “Four drops on his tongue. No more.” And she set to laying out her supplies.

You looked at the label. Morphine.

“Paul, baby, I need you to open your mouth for me,” you asked, stroking his cheek. “Please, it'll make the pain go away.”

His eyes fluttered open, the richest mahogany, and locked onto your face.

“Please,” you asked again, a tear snaking down your cheek.

His mouth cracked open, revealing the torn, bloody muscle inside.

“That's good, love. Just like that.” You dropped four clear pearls of medicine onto his tongue. “Good boy, thank you.” You gently closed his mouth again, his eyes still firmly locked on you, even as his eyelids began to drop.

You went to pull away and set the medicine on the counter when he loosed a heart-wrenching whine, his whole body shifting on the table.

“Shit! Hold him,” Emily ordered, but he bucked them off again, staring at you.

Realizing, you dropped the medicine and rushed back over to him, throwing an arm over his neck and burying your face in the dense scruff at the base of his throat.

He immediately settled, tilting his chin down to rest against you, his nose pressed into your shoulder.

“I'm going to start removing the bullet,” Emily said to no one in particular. “If he starts to get aggressive, I want her out of here.”

The pack nodded, tightening their grips around him.

His body had just started to go lax form the morphine when Emily started digging for the bullet. You felt him tense, but he held perfectly still, almost trembling with effort.

The pack looked at one another, clearly surprised.

“He can't sit still for a splinter,” Sam muses, eyeing the two of you with a quirked brow.

“Got it!” Emily said, holding the pliers in the air, a crimson hollow point pinched in the end of them. “Less then two inches from his heart,” she said, dropping the bullet into the sink with a clatter.

Paul huffed against your neck, his body relaxing again.

You stroked his head, trying to soothe him. “You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright. Just a few stitches and you'll be able to heal on your own,” you whispered in his ear, even though you knew the rest of the could hear you.

Emily poured alcohol into the wound, and he bucked, a vicious growl ripping from his throat. Jacob yanked you backwards before Paul's fangs found you, Sam grabbing Emily as Paul roared.

“Outside!” Sam ordered, looking at Jacob. Jacob nodded and hauled you out into the cold, shutting the door behind you both.

“No, I need to be in there!” You shouted, fighting against him.

“Paul told us to take you out of there!” Jacob yelled back, and you stumbled away, stunned. “Right after he got shot, he said to make sure you weren't there. And he screamed ‘get her the fuck out of here' just now.”

“But—” You felt your knees sag. You thought for sure he was asking you to come closer…

“You saw what happened to Emily,” Jacob murmured, and you snapped your head back towards him. “Paul wouldn't survive doing that to you, y/n.”

You stared at him, tears in your eyes.

“He hates hurting you. But in his mind, it's the only way to keep you safe.”

“From what?” You cried, frustrated, heartbroken. Another agonized howl rips through the still November air.

“All of this! Us! Him!” Jacob threw his arms out. “When you discovered us, you trapped yourself. When he imprinted on you, he trapped you further.”

“But I want to be here!” You shouted back, voice echoing off the pines. “I want this.” Tears clogged your throat, the anger draining out of you. “I want him.”

Seth opened the front door, the warm light a halo around him. “He's out cold, but shifted back. He's going to be okay.”

You ran up the stairs and into the house. Paul, human Paul, was stretched across the table, a blanket tossed over his lower half. Emily was bandaging his ribs, a thick pad of gauze just to the left of his sternum.

“He's fine,” Emily said, sensing you hovering in the doorway. “A few days of rest and he'll be as growly as ever.”

“You should go home, y/n,” Sam said. “He doesn't need any stress right now.”

Stress. Was that all you were?

You nodded and grabbed your coat hanging by the door, feeling like you'd been shot yourself. Jacob offered to walk you home, but you declined.

You'd had enough for werewolves for a lifetime.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When Paul woke up, he was alone in his room, the curtains drawn. Memories of that night rushed back to him, the agony, the searing rip of the bullet, your hands in his fur, soft voice in his ear.

“You did so good, baby. You're going to be alright.”

“Paul?” Sam cracked the door open. “You alright?”

“Where is she?” He asked, tugging on a pair of sweatpants.

“Paul—”

He didn't need to ask again, he could feel you through the imprint, his little shadow.

“Lahote, wait—” Sam grabbed him when he went to leave the room.

“What?” He snapped, the need to see you like a beast in his chest.

“She’s leaving.”

Paul's heart stopped. “She..what?”

“She's packing now. Chief said she was free to go if she burned her notes.”

He missed the last part, already running out of the house and into the street. He ran barefoot across town, ignoring everyone shouting from him, both outside and in his head.

Finally, he saw your little house at the edge of the beach, your car in the driveway, trunk open and piled with boxes.

No, no, no, no.

He vaulted over your stairs, barreling through the door.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your front door slammed open, the top hinge breaking with an audible crack. You dropped the books your were packing, looking up to find Paul racing towards you like a heat seeking missile.

“Paul, what—”

“Shut up, y/n,” he growled. His hands came up to your face, grabbing you and tugging you towards him. His mouth collided with yours, rough and desperate. Strong hands hauled you closer, crushing you against his bare chest in a bruising grip.

Your lips parted under his, your hands grasping for purchase along the planes of his chest as you kissed him back. His lips were surprisingly soft, supple and beautifully shaped, though nothing about the kiss gentle. Your lungs screamed for air, your whole body burning, burning, burning alive for him.

He wrenched himself away, holding onto the door frame like a lifeline. His chest heaved, eyes wild and dark. The frame cracked under his hands.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breathless. He still had bandages wrapped around his torso.

With one hand, he ripped them clean off, revealing nothing but a dimple of scar tissue. “If you want to go, I won't stop you. But I couldn't let you leave without…” his voice trailed off, gaze fixed firmly on your puffy, spit-slick lips.

You took a stuttering breath, tears brimming along your lash line. “I want you to want me to stay,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, tracking each tear as they rolled down your flushed cheeks. His expression softened, eyes round, lips slightly parted. “I want you to stay with me, but you're better off—”

You flung yourself towards him, trusting he would catch you, and he did, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I'm not,” you said, raining kisses across his cheeks, over his lips, his eyes, his jaw. “I'm not.”

Part Two

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[kaeyacollection]

Who's ready for my Master Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Crepus Theory!!

I originally posted this over at Hoyolab and people there seemed to really like my favorite joke theory that Crepus just tries to gaslight the whole of Mondstadt right after obtaining Kaeya

Majority of this will be the same but with little tweaks for the wonderful tumblr audience

This joke stems from Kaeya's introduction:

and the use of the word "rumored"

Cause it's not like it said beyond Teyvat or the seven nations just Mondstadt

And I mean like c'mon how many families are living off the grid in Mondstadt

(Actually... Don't answer that I forgot Glory's boyfriend is just

Out there in the bush with Razor...)

Initially I had the idea of Crepus walking around the markets one day carrying Kaeya with Diluc beside him running into Varka who asks:

"Who's the boy?"

"You mean my son?"

"Not Diluc the boy you're carrying"

"I have two sons? You know this??"

But then the Caribert quest came out mentioning Kaeya ran away from home near immediately and was dragged home by Crepus just as fast and it became even funnier

Cause imagine you're by the docks one day and richest man in town gets off the boat with no cargo but instead a tiny child you may not have seen before that Crepus seems to be very cross with at the moment and threatening to turn him into a leash kid if he runs off again

In a small town that loves gossip do you know how fast that information is spreading? Cause I do and Varka's knocking on Crepus's door 30 minutes later like:

"Is this what we're doing? We're just taking kids now?"

Both paths lead to Varka asking where Kaeya comes from and getting hit with a

"I think you're a bit too old to still be confused about the birds and the bees Varka"

Varka getting frustrated to the point he just starts demanding Kaeya tell him what's up

Love to see him following in his fathers footsteps of stressing Varka the fuck out

And upon hearing how his birth father left for juice and didn't return Varka went

"Good! That was ALL I needed to know!!"

Follow ups on if his father intended to abandon him or got lost in the storm and needed a search party?

Don't care!! You weren't kidnapped!!

Welcome to the knights! 🤝

Which bringing it back to it only being a rumor

In a town of alcoholics, who's gonna call out the one guy with the winery?

Here's some add ons that got sparked from the comment section 😘

Bonus panels would have included Varka showing up with Rosaria one day mimicking Crepus about "wHaT you ForGot I haD a Kid" sparking a trend within the community of just adopting random children to the point posters are made saying "In Barbatos name: See a child Take a child"

Alice seeing it and pulling a "when in rome" tucking both Albedo and Diluc(who is yelling he is an adult) under her arms and telling Klee if she ever sees someone in need of a mom let her know she'll send over the paperwork right away

And then the last bonus: Venti wakes up, walks in through the gate while playing a tune, and stops when he sees the poster, not sure if he needs to start yet another revolution, or if this one is fine actually

I imagine the posters had to be taken down because visitors were losing their kids left and right and the solution of parents pinning a note saying "not dead & still want custody" to their kids shirt didn't catch on but the saying still lives strong in the hearts of Mondstadt's citizens I mean look Bennett and his 27 dads Mondstadt may have a lot of orphans but the demand is even higher

Comment on original post:

"I have a headcanon where Kaeya fooled first Crepus, then the rest of Mondstadt but.this is too funny!! I want to see this happening!"

Which prompted one of my new favorite lines at the end:

"Wait by fool Crepus first do you mean like Crepus finding him out in the storm bringing him inside to ask him where he lives and Kaeya's just

"? I live here? You adopted me? Are you feeling okay?"

Cause I'm absolutely cry laughing over this that's so good but that also means when Kaeya runs away Crepus is just

"hey no no l'm not misplacing you a second time come home" "

[five-rivers]

Cryptid Crawl! Chapter 5

AO3

@currentlylurking, @going-dead, @aggressivelyclueless, @carelisswriting, and @schrodingersfic

.

“Hey, Kwan, you’re in Home Ec., right?”

It was kind of funny to see that kind of haunted, hunted look on a big, bulky jock, but this was Amity Park.  Hannah got to see that expression whenever Fenton had to go to the bathroom.  

“Listen, I’m not going to blame you for this.  I just want to know… why?”

“I don’t know,” said Kwan.  “I think there might have been something about it on the forums, but I thought it was just a joke.”

Hannah had seen the same thread.  She hadn’t thought it was connected.  

“Isn’t that the one the ghosts were in?”

“Ghosts?  Come on, haha,” said Kwan.  “Those guys were just roleplaying, like whatever Nost and Kyle are doing.”

Hannah briefly closed her eyes.  “No, Kwan, they aren’t roleplaying.  Kyle doesn’t even believe in aliens.”

“No one believes in aliens.  That’s just you.”

“Lots of people believe in aliens.  I didn’t make up the whole UFO enthusiast community.  More importantly, you don’t think this is, like, a Spectra thing, do you?”

“Man, I hope not.  Mrs. Tetslaff said this was mandatory and worth twenty percent of our whole grade!”

“It isn’t worth twenty percent of your grade, Mr. Kwan,” said Mr. Lancer, materializing ghostlike out of nowhere.  He was wearing a bright pink apron with the words Eat, Pray, Love embroidered on it in big, loopy, cursive.  “It is, however, mandatory.”

“How much of my grade is it worth, then?” asked Kwan.  

Mr. Lancer sighed.  “Zero.  But, as I said, it is still mandatory.”

“But why?” asked Hannah.  

Mr. Lancer stared at her for a long minute.  “If I tell you,” he said, finally, “I know it’ll be all over the school within an hour.”

“No, it won’t.  I can keep a secret.”

“You can’t, but that’s besides the point.  If it comes from you, I’ll have plausible deniability if the GIW come around.”

“That’s mean.”  She turned to Kwan.  “Did you hear what he just said to me?  Like I’m not trustworthy?”

“You aren’t trustworthy.  One time I left the room for a minute and when I came back you and your friends had made Mikey cry and you had coated the floor with whipped cream.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“You were holding the whipped cream can.”

“I was framed,” said Hannah.  

Mr. Lancer closed his eyes and sighed.  “The cake idea was the only one that got any widespread traction on the Amity forums.  There were, apparently, already some talks about doing something with it on some of the community and business boards.  But we only got into it when Mayor Masters offered to fund the whole thing.”

Hannah gasped.  “You’re on the forums.”

“Despite my age, I do know how to work a computer.”

“But,” said Kwan, “what if it is a ghost thing?  What if the cake is evil?  What if the cake is a lie?”

“It probably is a ghost thing,” allowed Mr. Lancer, “but since Phantom of all people is endorsing it, I think it will be fine.  Also, you’re going to be making the cakes, so if the cakes wind up evil…”  He trailed off.  “I need to go make some more arrangements before we leave. You two should report to your first period classes.”

.

“I can’t believe you and Vlad got the whole school roped into this,” said Sam, kicking a bit of loose gravel off the path.  “What even was the point of this?”

Danny shrugged.  “It was the best idea we had?” he offered.  

“Just because people liked it doesn’t mean it’s going to be functional,” complained Sam.  

“I think people liking it might actually make it more functional,” said Tucker.  “Just saying.”

“I guess,” said Sam.  “But what are you going to do if everyone does come to this cake thing, including the paranormal investigator people?  What then?”

“Come on,” said Danny, “what kind of self-respecting paranormal investigators are going to go to a Community Cake Day when there are ghouls and goblins about?”

“You think these people are self-respecting?”

.

“A ‘Community Cake Day,’ huh?” said Ned.  “You didn’t mention that in your research.”

“That’s because it didn’t come up in my research,” said Az, scowling at the paper taped to the telephone pole.  “It didn’t exist.”

“It’s sponsored by MasterSoft.”

“MasterSoft doesn’t sponsor anything.  That has to be a lie.”  

“Well, Vlad Masters is the mayor, right?  Maybe the guy just really likes cake.  Speaking of which, we could swing by after filming.  Load up on some free cake.”

“Absolutely not!” shouted the producer.  “Do you know how many self-respecting paranormal investigators are seen at tacky small town cake-offs?  None!  Sip!  Silch!  Nada!  Get into positions!  And Jimmy… please, try to emote just a little.  Susan!  Where’s my coffee?”

“‘What self-respecting paranormal investigator,’” repeated Ned mockingly.  “If we were self-respecting, we wouldn’t be doing this.”

“We were doing it before,” pointed out Az.  

“We were in college before.  No one in college has any respect for anything, right, Jimmy?”

“Hn.”

Az patted Jimmy on the shoulder.  “Look at it this way.  Most of that cake is made by high schoolers.  They have even less respect for everything.  And there’s hardly anyone on the streets.  That makes it more spooky.  A real ghost town vibe.”

“Right,” said Ned.  “Real spooky.”

.

“Welcome back, cryptid crawlers, to the latest entry in our cryptid crawl across the continental US!  Today finds us in lovely Amity Park, Illinois, as promised.”  Crawly turned slightly to frame the ‘Welcome to Amity Park!  A Nice Place to Live!’ sign with their hands, before squaring themself to the camera again.  “With me today is my cameraman Bill.  Say hi, Bill!”  

Bill briefly turned the handheld camera towards his own face, then rotated it to point at Crawly again.  

“We all owe Bill a huge thank you, because without him, you’d be getting this on my GoPro.  Anyway.  Amity Park.  Well, my first impression is that it is a little beaten up.  Lots of… weirdly shaped potholes.  They’re in the sidewalks, too.  Usually you don’t get a great view of those in videos.”  Crawly skirted one hole.  “This does look sort of humanoid-shaped, doesn’t it?  Weird.  But, anyway, beyond being beaten up, Amity Park looks fairly average for a town, which is par for the course.  Fresno is a completely normal town, too, after all.  Weird things are normal, so you find weird things in normal places.  Most cryptids don’t live in the Himalayas, and with cities causing habitat destruction to the point where even well-known animals like bears and deer are becoming urbanized–” They’d have to fact check that sentence before they posted the edited video.  They weren’t sure it was actually true.  “--cryptids, too, are moving into cities.”  They nodded sharply at this conclusion.  

“Although…  It is a little quiet, isn’t it?  Bill, what do you think?”

“Eh, you might be right,” said Bill.  “But sometimes small cities get their rush hours at different times.”

“I suppose,” said Crawly, already turning away.  “Right, so, for this next bit, we’re just going to walk around for a while.  We can interview anyone we come across.  Then, we’ll go investigate the phantom’s,” they snickered, “haunts.”  A colorful flier on a nearby telephone pole caught Crawly’s eye and they paused.  “Oh, hey, there’s a community event happening!  That must be where all the people are.  They’re making cakes.  Want to go when we’re done filming?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Bill.  

“Then it’s a plan!”

.

One good thing about impulsively telling everyone he shared his forum account with the ‘real’ Phantom was that Danny didn’t get beaten up or dragged out into unused hallways after class all that much anymore.  

Of course, it still happened now and again.  Like today.  Although today it wasn’t actually between classes, but in that weird gap between roll call and when they got their assignments with the caterers and bakers.  He’d somehow lost track of Sam and Tucker in the rush, but he wasn’t particularly worried.  

“Fenton,” said Dash, more nasally than usual.  

“Baxter.”  Danny made a face.  “Are you, like, sick or something?”

“No,” said Dash, who was distinctly red-eyed.  

“Have you been…”  Danny decided against accusing Dash of crying.  “Smoking?”

“I’d never jeopardize our chances at state playoffs!” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Paulina.  “Just give him the stuff so you can stop posturing.  Here!”  She shoved a bag at him.

“Uh,” said Danny, hugging the bag to his chest.  “What is this?”

“Your costume.”

“Uh.  What?”

“For messing with the out of town dude.  Dudette?”

“I think someone said they were nonbinary in the forums,” said Danny, bewildered.  He had his own incredibly tacky Phantom costume, and he wasn’t just talking about the one he wore on a daily basis.  

“Whatever.  We’re just making sure you actually show up and do what you said you’d do, so Phantom isn’t left with the mess you caused.”

Danny wasn’t sure why Dash was blaming him for this particular mess, but he’d long ago given up on trying to understand Dash.  However… “Why wouldn’t I have done what I said I was going to do?” He directed the question more at Paulina.  

Dash snorted.  “You can’t even run a forum account by yourself.  If we didn’t make you do it, you’d half-a–”

“Mr. Baxter.”

The three of them turned towards the voice. Mr. Lancer stood at the end of the hallway, eyes glittering.  

“I’m glad I found you three before anything… unfortunate… occurred.  Mr. Baxter, Miss Sanchez, your cohort is working with the team from Creep-tastic Catering in the Culinary Arts kitchen.”

“Come on, Dash,” said Paulina, walking down the hallway.  “We don’t want to leave our friends waiting.”

“Your friends are looking for you, Mr. Fenton,” said Mr. Lancer. 

“Okay,” said Danny, “thanks.  Um.”

Mr. Lancer sighed heavily.  “The three of you have been excluded from all the group lists.  It wasn’t my idea.”

“And we never had this conversation,” said Danny, solemnly.  

“That’s not what I– Oh, what does it matter?  Avoid the actual hunters while you’re wearing all of that, will you?”

“That’s the plan.”

Mr. Lancer’s next sigh was even heavier.  

.

“... and that’s about the gist of it,” said the woman from Poltergeist Pastries.  “Any questions?”

About a dozen hands went up, including Star’s.  The woman looked… intimidated.  

“You there,” she said, pointing somewhere in Star’s general vicinity.  

Star would take it.  “Do you know why we’re doing this?” she asked.  

“It’s a community outreach–”

“No, I mean, why are we really doing this?” clarified Star.  “How is this going to help with the problem?”

“The only problem I see around here is a lack of delicious cakes!”

“Uh,” said Star.  

“No, really,” said the woman, wringing her hands together.  “I think it will help.  And don’t worry,” she continued, pitching her voice even louder, “after you finish your individual and group cakes and have them assessed by our esteemed judges, you’ll be able to participate in the world-record breaking massive cake bake, where we will work together to make a single twenty-five by twenty-five meter square sheet cake.”  She beamed at them.  “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“Yeah!” said Ms. Tetslaff, their teacher chaperone.  “We’re going to bake this cake and get those tourists out of here!  Who’s with me?”  She pumped a fist in the air.  

Star was beginning to wonder if she had fallen into some bizarre mirror universe.

.

Danny stepped intangibly through a wall.  He still had things to do, and he was running low on time.  For all he knew, Crawly was already in town.  

“Hey!” he shouted, getting the attention of everyone there.  “Is everyone here?”  He scanned the crowd.  “Where’s Dani?”

“I am only the master of all things electronic and beeping,” said Technus, shrugging, “not unruly, sneaky, teenagers that call my hair ‘whack.’”

Danny groaned and rubbed his hands down the sides of his face.  He didn’t know if he’d have time to find her.  “Skulker?”

“I don’t hunt clones.  Only the originals!”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.  LL, I’ve done what I can to make sure everything is the way you wanted it.”

“We’ll see, ghost boy.  Cookie?”

“No, I– Oh, fine.  It’s not like it’s cursed or anything, is it?”

“It depends on whether or not you’re allergic to peanuts.”

Danny took the cookie but didn’t eat it.  “Is it cursed if I’m not allergic to peanuts?”

“... No.”

Well, that was unconvincing.  Danny put the cookie down on a nearby plate.  “Anyway, you guys follow your end of the deal, I’ll follow mine.  Are we still good?”

“THE BOX GHOST WISHES TO KNOW IF THERE WILL BE ANY BOX CAKES!”

“I don’t know, probably,” said Danny.  “Everyone else?  Are we good?”

There was a faint murmur of agreement.  

“Great.  Be aware that if you cause any trouble, I will make you regret it.”

“We’ll make a proper ghost out of you yet, dipstick!”

“Why do all of your compliments sound like you want to kill me?”

“Probably because they do!”

“Thank you, Sidney.  I’ve got to go before the cryptid people fall into a trans-dimensional pothole Vlad didn’t bother to pave or something stupid.”

.

“Hey, Val.”

Valerie jumped backwards and clutched at her chest.  “Don’t do that to people who are trying to sneak away from somewhere.”

Dani snickered.  “Don’t worry, I have it on pretty good authority that there is life after death.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Okay,” said Dani, rising the rest of the way out of the ground.  “So.  You still up for some mayhem?”

Valerie raised an eyebrow.  “What kind of mayhem were you thinking about?”

.

“Okay,” said Tucker, using his stylus to poke at a map of Amity on his PDA.  “According to this… we’ve got… The TV people over here… the internet people over here… and the ghost hunters here…”

“And my parents?”

“Unclear,” said Tucker.  “However…”  He raised his stylus.  “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “It’s the GAV.  Loud as usual.”

“I think it’s probably somewhere north of Descarte and… east…  Maybe east of fifteenth?”

“I think it’s closer than that.  Fourteenth,” said Sam.  

“Yeah, that could be right.”

“Great,” said Danny.  “So, as planned, then?”

Tucker and Sam nodded.  “As planned.”

[fauna-a]

V Flight

This is a What If in which Nathaniel behaves himself at the end of Golem’s eye. I’ve written another story based on this concept but there’s not a real link between them.

Hey, wanna hear a joke? It goes like this: a magician, two commoners and a djinni walk into a bar.

Okay, it wasn’t a bar, it was some hole the girl has taken us to, and, clearly, it wasn’t a joke, even if I found all this pretty funny.

The fall of the mighty John Mandrake had begun even before his rise; but, for once, I couldn’t really say anything to the boy: because, for the first time in his miserable life, he had done something right; not right for himself or for his Government, but just right. He had made a promise to Kitty Jones and he had kept it, or at least tried to. I was surprised, I have to say: less surprised to see him regret it the moment he spotted the sphere spying on us and understood he was well and truly compromised.

Luckily for him, he had a djinni who was an authority in fleeing dangerous places and people; less luckily for Kitty Jones and Jakob Hyrnek, that were now on the run with a dead weight behind.

«We don’t trust you» the girl had hissed at the end of a long hide-and-not-be-caught game, away from the Government and what remained of golem and afrit.

Hyrnek didn’t say anything, but, by the look on his face, he would have liked to strangle my master.[1]

Nathaniel tightened his lips. «We are all fugitives» he said. «We’re all in the same situation».

I coughed delicately and he glared at me. «You are still bonded to me. You still have to obey me».

«We had a pact, master. Six weeks».

Then, the boy burst out a joyless laugh that could have get us caught, if it wasn’t for Kitty, who gave him a good shake. «Are you mad? Quiet!»

Nathaniel ignored her. «Six weeks?» he repeated, trying to catch me. I was a swift little mouse, and I wriggled out easily. «You want to tell everyone my name? Fine! See if I care. I’m already an enemy of the State!»

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

«We should leave the country» said Hyrnek to the girl. «I have some family in Europe, they could help us… the two of us» he underlined. Well, rude.

My master didn’t say anything.

«You should leave, too, but I’d wait one year. Or two» I commented. «You two should wait, too».

«Bartimaeus is right. They are probably already monitoring every station, every port, everything: they have our names, our faces, and they know I have a dem- a spirit with me».

«Oh yeah, you know all about this, don’t you? You were the one pulling the strings!» said Hyrnek tartly.

«Yes, I know all of this! And maybe, if you had some brains, you’d use this! We could help each other!»

«He’s right» muttered Kitty. «We have little option left, Jakob».

There was a tense silence. Then: «Fine. But the demon…»

«The demon, I mean, Bartimaeus is useful. I need him».

«Well, I’m touched, but I’m right here: stop talking about me» I stepped in. «And I really don’t want to be dragged in some fugitive thingy. Been there, done that. I’d rather go home». Even if I was a tad curious about what Nathaniel would have done next.

The boy in question sighed. «What do you say about a revision of our terms? I… we…» I spared him from telling the truth, which was that without me they’d have ended up dead within one day.[2]

«Fine. Let’s negotiate, like good old days. We have audience too, just like in the suq».

[1] Understandable.

[2] And I am being generous.

[sagnaevi]

That day... The sound of harrowing screams and warfare, had drowned out his own voice - screaming for somebody - ANYBODY - to help him, to help his brother. The sudden collapse in the sand had swallowed his little brother whole; revealing a chasm so deep - there was no way to get out without tearing oneself into pieces. Kakavasha never left the chasm's edge. He stayed, prayed to Mother Goddess and tried everything to reach down to his only living sibling - without being swallowed as well. Everything is going to be all right, Vasha! A mantra that he repeated, perhaps moreso to keep his own heart from breaking, than anything else. Eventually, what he had hoped to be their salvation, but turned out to be his damnation, found them - found him. They took Kakavasha away; kicking and screaming until his lungs were sore. He pleaded for them to help his little brother out of the deep hole, but his tearful wishes were thrown and grinded into the burning sand.

Everyone died that day - everyone except him, well... Not phyiscally. Something crucial within disappeared that day, together with his family. You are born blessed by Giathra Triclops, Kakavasha. You've brought rain to our people, Mother Goddess' luck is with you, always. It was laughable. Could it be considered luck if everyone he ever cared about died around him? Is it considered lucky to keep living in this perpetual nightmare that is reality? For years, Kakavasha was sold and traded; used and abused by the masters who bought him. For years, a shield of preservation was built around his heart. For years, he lost pieces of himself in order to survive.

The IPC really weren't any better than his old masters. They saw he could be made useful, so they gave him some credits, clothes a new name and a titel - a job - but not freedom. They did not take him in out of any sense of duty towards the people they were supposed to help. No no. The IPC were all about gain and profit - nothing in this world came for free, and everything has a set value. Even Kakavasha, now known as Aventurine, had a pretty little pricetag on his life. 60 tanba, or 60 credits. A pathetic value, just like how his existence is pathetic in the eyes of this whole galaxy. If he had not been useful to them, he would have been sentenced to death for the murder of his former master. Funny how justice is rewarded with injustice.

He was sent to Penacony, to carve a path for the IPC to reclaim the dreamscape from the Family. A big mission like this, and they chose him for the job? Hah - guess his all or nothing attitude was the perfect fit. The Planet of Festivities - where dreams came true. Sure, if a life within a dream could be considered true. Everything in here reeked of false glory and happiness. Nothing here is honest - it honestly doesn't take a great liar to notice that. If nothing here is real, then, why - inthe hotel corridor to his room- does he stand face to face to something so hauntingly familiar? A fragment from his past which this world should not know about? Is he hallucinating? Neon depths, as vibrant and beautiful, as cursed as his own, greeted him, as if staring into a mirror's reflection.

❛ V... Vasha? ❜ He asked in a hesitant whisper; mouth dry as the desert of Sigonia - the air in his lungs seemed to be replaced by burning dust. A crack formed in his shield. A crack which threatened to let out the imprisoned trauma and gried which he had locked away for so many years. ❛ Is this some kind of sick joke? Very funny. ❜ He scoffed, holding onto his shield - as if his survival depended on it. If he reached out, would the mirror shatter?

Kakavasha...

Huh? He hadn't heard that name since....

K̷a̶k̶a̶v̴a̸s̴h̵a̴!̴ ̵H̸e̸l̶p̴!̵ - his brother's cries for help.

The mirror shattered. Aventurine stood there in shocked silence, unable to even move a finger, unable to even breathe in the face of his long-lost sibling. His family. The one he believed to be dead. Alive?? How?? Why??? No, no, no, no- that's not right! This isn't right! Haha, because of Vasha is alive, then- all this time... He...

Warmth trickled down his cheeks, as his vision grew blurry. Huh...

❛ You're- ❜

/ @sagnaevi plotted starter.

It had been devastating that day, where Vasha had lost it all. It had been among cries, bloodshed and screams of pain. It had been in the unforgiving desert, where life had always been lived on the edge, with a prayer on one's tongue and eyes with barely hidden sorrow and fear. Vasha still remembered the pain of digging his fingers into that rocky wall and the scream that had left his throat as he had called for his brother, who had been helpless against the way that the earth had swallowed him. He remembered the way skin tore from his fingertips and how nails broke as he wailed and begged for mother Gaiathra Triclops to save him and perhaps she had. For a few hours later, he had crawled up from the crack; bloodied, broken and hollow. All he had seen, as far as his eyes could see had been bodies ⸺ a sea of them and... so much blood. The golden sand had looked like it had been colored red and despite that, Vasha had walked, walked and walked, until his legs had given out. That had been, when men, dressed in black, had found him ⸺ at his lowest; lost and so very alone, with a heart too broken to be put back together as he whispered Kakavasha under his breath over and over, like a broken prayer while eyes, red from crying endlessly, gazed at nothing in particular. It was years later, when he had walked through that space station, where one of the IPC's HQs were, that he had spotted that man, who had been a perfect mirror image of himself - who had, awoken a physical reaction and made the Avgin almost yell out that name, that he would never forget even after so many years. However, before he had been able to, pain had blossomed from the back of his head and everything had become dark. Once he had woken up, he had been surrounded by low rank IPC workers, who had looked quite concerned, most likely, due to someone of his status simply having "passed out". Vasha had felt off, from the moment that he had woken up, though, that hadn't stopped the man from demanding answers. Answers were given, answers that had made the IPC officer feel immediately like something wasn't right. Something just hadn't added up, which was why, Vasha had decided, from that day, to go undercover, to look for a truth, that might just be nothing, but a hopeful wish.

It turned out, it was not simply a hopeful wish, which had made the IPC officer's world turn upside down. They had... kept it from him, the fact that Kakavasha was.... It had filled the Avgin with rage and immense sadness that he had been used like he had. And yet... he was used to it and should not have expected anything else, for after all, they had used his blessing for years, without any sign of stopping. However, how could he have known, when he had been told that he, was the only Avgin left, since that day, where his entire world had crumbled. He had went on mission after mission and never seen his brother once. Now, he realized why he had never gotten proper promotion and why, he was never requested to go to the Strategic Investment Department, despite having gained a rank high enough to be allowed. The IPC took him for a fool and he was going to show them, who were the real fools.

His search had lead him to Penacony, the Planet of Festivities, it was here that he finally saw... him. A sad smile appeared on perfect features as unmistakable eyes gazed directly into the ones, that was a perfect mirror image of his own. How pretty the colors were and yet, doomed from birth. His voice refused to leave and for a few seconds, Vasha merely stood there, silently.

❝ They... kept you from me... all these years.. ❞

his voice sounded choked as brilliant hues became glossy, making it clear, how much this was effecting the younger as Vasha tried not to breakdown due to the emotions that had laid so tightly within his chest, for these years.

❝ Kakavasha... ❞

The familiar name, that hadn't been spoken, outside his dreams since that day, escaped as tears, without permission, ran down fair cheeks, no longer able to be contained due to everything that was happening. For so many years, he had been so, so very alone, only to now realize that he never truly had to, but had been forced to, by the very people that he had worked for, since he had been able to. He had done so many unspeakable things, things that he could no longer take back, none of which they had ever deserved.

[sitp-recs]

Timecode by Rasborealis

Harry/Draco (2019, Mature, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

“Voldemort tried to cheat death,” she said then, and it was only because of long months of purposefully done desensitization that Draco didn’t flinch. “So even if I could, even if I wanted to…if I did that to him, if I perverted everything Harry stood for because of some selfish desire to have him back, he would never, ever forgive it, or accept it. He’d kill me, and then probably himself out of principle.”

I honestly can’t remember the last time I got so immersed in a fic - to the point of getting just two hours of sleep and having to call the next morning off 💀 it’s funny, I remember thinking “oh it’s been a while since I read Healer Draco" just before Christmas and holy shit, I was NOT prepared to find an insanely engaging case fic to scratch the itch! I’m also relieved to read this fic now it’s completed because waiting for new chapters would have killed me at some point (note to self: this is why I don’t do WIPs).

If you’re like me and obsess over mind blowing plots, A+ suspense, brilliant lore and powerful Master of Death Harry, trust me this is gonna be your jam. It took me a few chapters to realize it is actually an advent fic - the mysterious plot is so intriguing, and the puzzling atmosphere so perfectly executed, I was too busy coming up with multiple theories to identify all those early Christmas references. But as the story goes on and the slow burn advances (it’s slow and so so good!) we get to see Harry and Draco indulging some cute moments of playful camaraderie and soft intimacy which just melted my heart. To be honest I wasn’t expecting a lot of pining (if any) but was immediately sold when Draco realized his crush and started longing oh so sweetly for Harry. They dance around each other earnest yet tentatively, trying to make the most of their borrowed time, and that alone made me fall in love with them both.

This has perfect balance between increasingly complex plot, soft wintery romance and some spectacular side characters (both Blaise and Hermione are INCREDIBLE, every now and then a spot on line or witty joke would get a surprised laugh out of me and take the edge off). Rasborealis is indeed a very skilled writer, who took a complicated concept and made it not only palatable with a well-paced, precise and smooth narrative, but also quite plausible within the magical world we know and love.

This is a brilliant ride, wild and compelling but also so very funny with lovely characters and charming dynamics that scream long-standing trust and friendship between them. I had so much fun theorizing then watching the puzzle pieces fall together, and by the end of chapter 24 I was sweating in anticipation, the building tension is So. Good! On a final note, I am very grateful that the author decided to finish this story despite their progressive disenchantment with HP, it made this read even more special. I can’t rec this fic enough, but please follow my advice and only get to it when you have the time to do it in one sitting 😂 thank me later!

Read on AO3

[clarrissanewt]

Hey. Can u do a Harry×fem!reader (Harry is such an underrated angel) where The reader thinks Harry deserves someone much better than her, maybe Ginny? Ginny is smart,attractive,funny cool and a badass. So,She ignores Harry thinking it would make his feelings cold abt her. I don't know what I want the end like so if u can make it angsty or fluffy,Up to u.

Ps: U R AMAZING WRITER!

Pss: take care of ur self 💛

Mirror Mayhem

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and drowning

A/n: cannot agree more, Anon, Harry deserves better. On the other note, thank you for the compliment!

Ps- are you a hufflepuff? (just curious)

"Isn't this funny?"

His dead voice snapped her to reality as she clenched her eyes in the realization that she had been staring...almost for an hour.

"Sorry?" She was quick to slip the piece of mirror inside her layers of clothes.

It had been in her routine, nowadays- patrolling out of the tent in turns, few discussions about the increasingly nebulous Horcrux hunt, then getting lost within the horizon of the small mirror and sometimes striking a small conversation with Hermione. It pained her to see Hermione so brittle after Ron had left.

"I had been thinking," he repeated, his gaze sternly fixed on her, "isn't this funny that you prefer to ogle at an ordinary shard of the mirror rather than talking to someone alive?"

He didn't sound larky and joking as he did months ago...years, really.

But what he didn't know was that this mirror wasn't ordinary.

It seemed like a trick of eyes to her, at first- the way the blasé mirror didn’t stare her back like always. But thinking it was just her hallucination after the near escape from the ministry, she didn’t think about it; slipped it inside her boots for future  use.

But the next time she had to stand up to it again was when it actually tore off a portion off her feet.

Bloody mirror.

And she felt like a daft idiot picking up the blood sodden mirror (she had to blink for at least five minutes to make sure that her conscience wasn’t fooling around her) because it just didn’t show her eyes...it reflected back a pair of unsettlingly, lush green eyes along with hers.

She had to whelve the small gift by Dumbledore as her breath hitched at the sight.

She had made a decision, and she was going to stand by it.

So there was no surprise when she shot an irritated yet quick glance sideways at his amusing comment.

He had observed too, quiet from sometime, how she started diverting her path as soon as she would see him, became the first one to wake up and needless to say, the first one to leave at night, and started talking to them meagerly...like he was a stranger to her now.

He well knew that the glass she had been pouring herself over was in Dumbledore’s will. Quite useless, unless you really count the fact that it could help you slaughter something in the absence of a wand.

“Fine. It’s quite settled then,” he slowly stood up from the drawf and dusty chair he had occupied, and snatching the locket from around his neck, dropped it onto her lap. “You are welcome to talk to me when I am dead.”

She kept her head down as he left her mallowing in guilt. 

The little image of Harry and Ginny bombarded somewhere in her brain as silvery tears slided down her cold cheeks.

Ginny was definitely better that her- she had mastered the bat-bogey hex, was a member of the Slughorn club, a famous quidditch player; while she- just a simple witch who never got any attention (not like she craved it). She seemed so minimal compared to her friends that people never acknowledged her existence with them turning their group into the Golden Quadlet...just a side kick to the Golden Trio.

Honestly, it hurted.

Hurted even more than piercing stabs or nose-blowing punches. And cascading the ugly, obnoxious locket strangled her breath.

But she was at fault in all this- or, wasn’t she?

As the world felt spinning around her, she brought up her hand to wipe the stains of guilt and rage from her face, just to find it even more soaked.

And as the faint glint of moonlight struck the blood sucking mirror, her eyes were focused on a little stick figure of- oh, that was a wand. Her wand.

It was pretty stupid, in her opinion, to leave the wand behind when you are considered as ‘Undesirable No-1,’ that too this late in night, deep in the forest with death eaters all around.

Classic Potter.

And with a last glance at their figures in the mirror, she tightened her grip at a puncturing rate around the wand and strolled into the forest, silently hoping that Hermione would be safe until she returned.

As tiny specs of snow flakes amassed the layers of hers sweater, she felt her breath torturing her more than relieving. She purely had no idea where Harry was. He had to be safe, for all she knew.

She would have surpassed the dark lane down the forest without a second thought if she hadn’t heard a deafening splash from there.

In horror, she whirled on her spot, terror seizing the control of her limbs; she stomped through the spearing and serated twigs and branches, and as soon as her gaze landed on his clothes and Hagrid’s pouch. A yelp eked out of her throat involuntarily as she dived inside.

Every part of her body screamed in protest. She felt every drop of air inside her lungs freezing slowly as she drifted headlong. The cold was agonizing; almost felt like sizzling on fire.

Before she could catch up with him (who was far deeper into the lake than her), something closed tightly around her neck.

Thrashing and suffocating, her numb fingers struggled under the hilt of the locket, unable to loosen it.

With these many layers of woolens and a strangling chain constricting her windpipe, she was sure to drown and die.

And when she came facedown with the snow, she had no strength to even move her fingers, let alone thank her savior. Still choking under the puncturing grip of the horcrux, a shaking hand reached up to her throat and cut the chain into her flesh.

With trembling fingers, her hand tried to graze the blood spitting spot when her savior gripped it.

“Are-you-mental?”

His panting voice gave her enough strength to roll over on her back. He was sinking on his knees, without any clothes on his upper body which was shining blissfully in the clouded night. As if it was a reflex, she sat up with the support of her lax arms and started undoing one of her sweaters, which had turned to a very deep shade of violet from the drowning. 

Squeezing it free of water, she silently dabbed his shivering figure. At least he was safe.

“Why the hell,” he dangled the horcrux with shortened chain in front of her eyes as if in a parody of hypnosis, “did you not take this thing off before you dived? And why did you even dive?”

She couldn’t answer. Shuddering with the drenched clothes, she caught up with his pile of clothes and struggled to pull them over his head.

“Why had you dived- no, don’t pull that out.”

"I saw the sword of Gryffindor. Ron has it right now."

"Ron? Is he here?" She made a frail struggle to turn around as he continued.

"He will be back, Y/n. Take off your sweaters."

"What?"

"Take them off- never mind."

He stood on his knees and dumped her layers of drenched and dull sweaters on the placid floor of snow. And without another word, he crushed her into a desperate hug, gently moving his hands on her bare skin to soothe out the goose flesh that were creeping on to her skin.

"It's fine. I've got you. You shouldn't have jumped inside."

"And you think I'd have let you freeze inside?" She pulled away from his chest and quickly slid down his sweater as they heard frantic footsteps approaching.

He was well aware that Ron's appearance was even more blissful than the silhouette of the silvery galloping doe that brought them the sword, so there were no surprises when his two friends flung their arms onto each other, a wail erupting from Ron's throat.

"Blimey, Y/n, I almost thought you were dead. If something like that would have happened, I would not have left you in peace, mate," he called Harry out.

But he didn't smile, didn't joke back at their platonic concern. His eyes were focused on the shard of glass which had helped him cut the chain...it looked sickly familiar.

He couldn't view his own self, except, it reflected two lips moulding together, moving in synch, with a rhythmic flick inside.

He well recognized that pair- it was his and Y/n's.

"It's the mirror of Erised, isn't it?"

His question almost made her heart drop down to the stomach. There was no way he could have found it.

"Wait. Is it the one which was in Dumbledore's will?" Ron looked between them, dumbfounded as she nodded in response. "Bloody hell, I read something about this while I was on a run from the Snatchers. It accepts blood, does it?"

"It does," she asserted. "It opened like that only."

"Blimey- it's reflection makes the sword of Gryffindor stronger-"

"Then we have got some work to complete," Harry interrupted and trudged towards a flat rock, gesturing them to follow.

"Is it, er- necessary to do it right now?"

"The faster we get rid of it, the better, Ron."

He nodded and his chin dipped down as he handed the sword to Y/n in listless movements before backing away.

"Merlin Boobies, I can't!" I've already almost splinched my hand while apparation- I saw the tent nearby, by the way. Let me go and er- surprise Hermione."

She turned speechless at the betrayal and huffed out a deep breath, fixed her gaze at the raven-haired boy.

Months of ceaseless struggle had overturned him...the silence and the sternness was agonizing.

"Why don't you finish it off? I'll do the rest."

"I won't," he replied with a perfect brevity. "You can do this. Just- just be careful, it will fight back. When I tried to finish off Riddle's diary, it tried to kill me. Just be safe, okay?"

She nodded shortly as a lump started forming in her throat.

"How are you going to open it?"

"I'll ask it," he looked at her hopefully. "Using parseltongue."

As the words came out of his mouth like a hiss and a snarl, the golden gates if the locket swung open with a click.

"Stab," he murmured, holding the locket steady on the rock.

She raised the sword with her quivering hands, half terrified and half glad that it didn't put up a fight until a small voice whizzed from the horcrux.

"I've seen your heart and it's mine."

"Don't listen," Harry commanded harshly. "Stab it!"

"I've seen your dreams, Y/n L/n, your deepest desires, your sacrifices for the boy you love, and yet his denial."

"Y/n, stab it- STAB IT!"

Still transfixed, the sword tip dangled over the scarlet, slit pupiled eye of Riddle but she backed away. There was a cloud of vague built oozing out, and Harry had to retreat too as the locket brusquely turned white-hot.

And he couldn't believe what was unfolding before his eyes. It was him; and Ginny was there too. Both the pseudo figures degrading her.

"Don't listen, Y/n. Stab!" His voice echoed and rebounded from the horizon of the naked trees.

He badly wanted to look away as the Riddle-Ginny intertwined herself around his pseudo figure, and their lips met.

He swore to himself that he saw Y/n's eyes mimicking Riddle's as she let out an abrupt and frustrated cry, and stabbed the locket straight in the centre, smashing it's intricate glass window. He ducked, thinking that there would be probably blood flying off, but it was over. Everything was silent...except her. She was shaking and panting heavily, head sunk into her knees, the sword lay forgotten on the stratum of snow.

Scooping up the broken locket and the small piece of mirror, he crouched beside her, his eyes turned heavenwards.

"Don't believe anything you heard."

He heard her sniffle as she tilted her gaze towards him.

"I couldn't stop it- I'm sorry, I- I should have tried-"

"It's okay. It's gone."

And this met a silence again. a silence that none of the them dared to break.

"Y/n? Can I believe you?"

She swerved fully towards him at this question, her shaking almost at the bay now. "I thought you did."

"I do. I just- I want go know about this," he flicked the mirror into her palm. "What do you see in this? Look, don't lie. I'm quite aware about your feelings now."

She smiled sadly at his prior sentence. "My feelings could be for Ginny too," she made a brave attempt to diffuse her perturbation.

"Fair enough. What do you see?"

"Your eyes."

One side of his lips twitched at her words as he smuggled the mirror back. "Want to see what I saw?"

And before she could reply to him with an obvious yes, their lips moulded concurrently, all like the same as he saw in the mirror.

Oh well, one horcrux was down.

[glapplebloom]

It seems like a tall task, but there is a way to do it.

As you saw with Spongebob, Cartoon Physics (or Toon Force) can get extremely wacky. The Fastest Speed Feat ever calculated is now within a Cartoon Sponge (but he’s still slower than the Incalculable speeds of Archie Sonic and the Flashes). Practically anything that can’t be done can be done thanks to Cartoon Physics. Is it even possible to defeat it? There is, but first you must know the rules of Cartoon Physics…

Rule 1 - No, not at any time, only when it was funny.

The first thing to understand is there is a reason for these actions. They do it because it's funny. It’s how one moment Spongebob can’t lift two marshmallows and another he rotates the planet yet not gravity. It really depends on what could get a laugh. You may not find a specific thing funny, but someone else did. And that’s enough to make it work. So if you don’t think Teen Titans Go is funny, that’s not going to stop them from doing all their wacky stuff because there is someone who will.

Rule 2 - It's laughter that keeps a toon young…

When the laughter stops, a toon grows old and forgotten. Remember Screwy Squirrel? His cartoon physics can rival that of Bugs Bunny or the like. But because he has been forgotten, he is basically erased from any contention of people’s favorite cartoons. And if his old media is lost for time, he might as well be dead.

Rule 3 - We may be bound by a certain moral code…

Not all Toon Force are equal. They are bound to the character’s core. Twilight Sparkle, for example, has a little bit of Cartoon Physics. It's how she can survive being smashed by various things. But her Toon Force pales in comparison to Pinkie Pie’s, who has done things that Twilight can’t do because she is a person of logic and reasoning. She isn’t as absurd as the Pink Menace. 

Those are the three rules to Cartoon Physics. Now that you know them, how do you beat them? There are definitely ways to do it but it’ll be tricky. 

Method 1 - Remove the Humor (Realistically)

A master of Toon Force’s greatest strength is bringing their opponent into their madness. They get so wrapped up in the shenanigans it opens so many opportunities for comedy. To defeat that, the opponent must be able to keep things serious. While there could be jokes to be made, there’s not a lot of them. Examples of this working include the Mask losing to Lobo when he used a Guilt Grenade to make the Mask see all the horrors he actually did. Or in Spongebob Vs Aquaman where the little sponge empathized with the lame hero and gave him the opening with the Trident. If you can make it a serious event, you can reduce their effectiveness.

Method 2 - Remove the Humor (Reality Warpers)

You’re a reality warper. You can do anything you wish. But despite that, this creature with Cartoon Physics is capable of matching you. What to do? Simple. Remove any source of Humor. Keep them alone with nothing to bounce off of. Sure, they could entertain themselves, but you can only do so for long. Eventually, when it's just the two of you, they’ll be powerless to stop you. So you can just let them simply grow old and forgotten… Or be like Nickelwise and steal their soul.

Method 3 - Don’t be the Aggressor (Realistically)

For some toons, their best use of Toon Force is when they’re dealing with people who are aggressive with them. Look at the majority of Bugs Bunny Cartoons: Elmer Fudd, Marvin, that Opera Singer, they eventually became aggressive towards your favorite Wabbit. But two characters seem to always get the upper hand on him: Cecil Turtle and the Gremlin. They do not act aggressively towards Bugs Bunny. In fact, the Gremlin is more Tweety like in his fight against Bugs. This makes Bugs Bunny the Antagonist. So all the Toon Force he once wields to get a rise of his aggressors is now used to basically make him look like a fool. And as seen in some Classic Cartoons, can lead to their deaths.

Method 4 - Know your opponents limits (Realistically)

As mentioned before, not all Toon Force users are equal. If you can figure out their specific limitations, you can find a way to win thanks to those limitations. If Popeye’s best stuff is when he eats Spinach, just try to make sure he has no access to it. Hard to do when he can will it out of nowhere but if Bluto can do it for a time so can others with superior speeds. If their best stuff is when they’re being attacked, make them the Aggressors and Rope-a-dope them. If you can figure out their character trait that makes their Cartoon Physics work, you can figure out a way around it.

Method 5 - Out Toon Them (Other Toon Force Users)

Not all Toon Force Users are the same. Some are superior to others. And if that’s the case, they could realistically push themselves to places the other wouldn’t or even couldn’t. As seen in Multiverse Match’s Fight between Donald Duck and Daffy Duck. Donald was just able to do things that Daffy couldn’t. So Donald won the fight. 

Those are the Methods of defeating Cartoon Physics. Will we see someone who does not have a lot of Toon Force be able to defeat someone who does? Who knows. Only the future will tell…

[maluspuerum]

i was reading the fate stay night manga ( also the first like scene of the hf manga but kgskhg hf ) and i want to Address a thing, this is going to get long mostly because of scans … but 

shinji matou used to be a skilled mage and arguably still is and is probably connected to the root and here’s why

this is the first part where shinji shows up in hf i think, honestly i can’t read hf bc it just no. but as we can see, shinji is a small child, he’s reading all these complex books, ‘we hadn’t lost the records of those mysteries we had accumulated nor the pedigree of our family’ ok ok yeah sure go on say shinji has this warped view of himself, but he’s not addressing himself here, he’s talking about his family. a very traditional mage family where as we see in f/z, there’s a Single Heir even if there are siblings. kariya gets the magecraft and byakuya gets to uhhhh fuck around being drunk like 24/7, because to the family, his lack of ?? to-standard magecraft made him useless. 

so i’m going to tell you all about some psychology things that don’t line up. shinji is said to have believed that he would be head of family, this is the matous we’re talking about. a family where power is so highly valued. he would never have that notion if he didn’t qualify at some point in his life. 

these are some scans of shinji and sakura as kids, with sakura being adopted into the family. shinji tells her that he’s going to succeed as the greatest person ever in the matou family. if he didn’t have the ability to do so, that notion would have been quickly beaten out of him, quite literally. there is no way zouken matou would ever allow someone who was deemed incompetent in magecraft to think that way. if we look at f/z, the way he treats kariya who does have the potential but he still basically ‘oh hey look you survived what a shock’ —- yeah, shinji wouldn’t think of himself as someone who could be the greatest person in the family if he didn’t have what it took. if he didn’t have magecraft and if he wasn’t really fucking talented. 

there’s a part in one of the character materials that notes that shinji would have been able to go to to toe or possibly outdo rin in magecraft prowess and rin is ‘an average one’, the only other noted mage to have all five elements to classify as ‘average one’ is paracelsus, the creator of the philosopher’s stone —- who is also implied to have the first magic, but i digress. the point being, shinji matou, who is shown in media to basically be a flat out disaster non-magus, had the potential to outdo rin, who can be compared to paracelsus right down to the gem magecraft. 

ok so i know this all sounds pretty weird, probably, but i do in fact have more evidence. so, moving forward to fate unlimited blade works which is where i get most things from, because i go with ubw for this blog. so we have a lot of scenes where shinji is basically put in situations where it’s supposed to be ‘oh shinji is the butt of the joke’ but i have mentioned before in other posts that when you look deeper, it’s less funny and more terrifying. 

first up: bloodfort andromeda

which i did write about before, but a recap of what it does —- “victims within the barrier are dissolved into blood as if they were inside a stomach, and their magical energy is given to either rider or her master. THOSE WITH A PROPER AMOUNT OF MAGICAL ENERGY ARE ABLE TO RESIST THE BOUNDED FIELD, such as a SERVANT or PROPER MAGUS, but those without any are instantly drained […] stronger people can resist it for a small amount of time, while weaker people will instantly have their skin start to melt, have inflammation resembling a keloid, and their eyes will look like those of a dead fish. those closest to the origin of the barrier will suffer the most severe effects, such as their blood being instantly vaporized and having the look of pale wax dolls piled like corpses. someone with a slight resistance, such as shirou, will feel instant discomfort as if their senses were revered, nausea, dizziness, a sensation of being extremely hot, and they will have trouble breathing as if the oxygen had suddenly dissipated.” 

well uh hey here’s shinji

in the center of it, not dead, not melted, certainly as chipper as can be, very mobile. also for those of you who go ‘oh but isn’t that medusa’s noble phantasm’ 

yeah well, rin thinks otherwise. also, it’s a little odd … gaining territory creation rank b from a noble phantasm as a rider class servant, just saying. so, for the area to work like bloodfort andromeda, either medusa is the power source or shinji is. that would explain why he’s unharmed and why other people go down, why he defies all logic of the effects of the field, because he’s powering it. he made it and he just hides that he has ability —- or, his abilities are sporadic, but when they work they work. 

second: being a matou in general

a great deal of that sporadic nature is likely trauma based. no matter how you look at it, growing up a matou means growing up being abused, being a victim. the crest worms are a way to give magecraft to someone without it, but they can also act as extra circuits, and all the heirs seem to go through this experience. something interesting that happens repeatedly is shinji is always the person to initiate physical contact without having some dissociative reaction to it. 

in fact, he seems to usually keep his distance from most people . 

then, shirou grabs him by the shoulders and he just sorta … vacates his body. also note the brown haired boy in the background and the two girls sorta have those ‘u should not do that’ expressions, because honestly, i doubt there was anyone in the school who Didn’t know shinji didn’t like being touched without warning. 

i’m willing to bet that’s because he has been. now, as much as i yeet out the really not logical things, the scenes still stand for reference: shinji touches rin first, shinji touches gilgamesh first, he doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable doing so, because he’s initiating. for those of you who don’t know how the matou crest worms work, it is the epitome of lack of consent in literally every manner possible. now, something else from this —- how shinji reacts to being attacked.

he impulsively retaliates, runs, or he hardcore dissociates. the first and second both happen with cu, first he threatens, then he runs. actually, the third happens there, too, it’s noted in the vn that when he goes outside, he flat out dissociates and thinks about what it would be like if he tore the arms of his opponents off. gilgamesh shows up after that and shoves the grail in his body and of course, that sets off a chain reaction where he should’ve died, but he didn’t. he just sorta … merged with the grail body as horrific as that is, but he lived. i’d just like to note that in fate he dies by herc (?), hf sakura kills him, but he lives in ubw after becoming the grail which basically seems like a black hole so it’s a constant slow collapse of his entire being, but he lived. that logic is a bit odd but ok sure whatever. 

other people who survive being in the grail? manaka. manaka ‘freakishly op, very creepy, can sustain like 7 servants and a beast class’ sajyou, who is in fact connected to the root. now, i won’t say that the exact same thing happened, but you don’t come back from the root the same. clearly, manaka became a zombie basically and shinji’s personality seems to revert to the person he was before everything awful happened. 

but the point of this is shinji not only may be an obscenely powerful mage, he might very well be connected to the root, which would ensure his survival … other people connected to the root: david sem void from fate grand order, who is noted to be ‘an abnormal genius’ who da vinci recognizes which is very rare  but also ( fuck the english butchering of his name holy shit )

so uh i know this got pretty scattered but thanks for coming to my tedtalk. 

[sixeyesgojo]

Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely. 

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek​ @megumifushi​ @bleueluna​ @gojos-mochi​ @delammi

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

A Lesson In Touch [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Touch Summary: You want nothing more to say your feelings for Din out loud, but words don't come to you or Din easy... Maybe you can express your love in another way. Warnings: A little bit of angst and description of injury, but that's about it Request: N/A

A/N: This is the third and final instalment of "a lesson in" series! ((unless i get inspired to write another part)) Let me know if you have any requests for Din in general!!

A/N 2: Here is a list of people that said they wanted to be tagged for this fic! Hope you like it

@elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @the-fae-child @zoleea-exultant @captainwanderlust78​ @ihavemyownissuess​

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Tradition PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Touch

Din hadn't quite mastered the art of subtlety when it came to you. He was very thankful for his beskar, specifically his helmet, otherwise he was sure you would've noticed his outright staring. In no way was he trying to make you feel uncomfortable or offend you, but he just felt mesmerised by you in a way that no other being in the galaxy had. Well, apart from his little green son. But, this... This was something different.

        You were something different.

        Ever since you had bought that necklace, the way he felt about you had only intensified. It was scaring him in ways he didn't even want to confront. Thoughts of a relationship, of a family with you began to stir within him. It wasn't realistic- definitely just a day dream. Kriff, he hadn't even been in a romantic relationship before: how was he ever going to treat you right? Sure, he'd dabbled in a few flings here and there... Some he was less than proud of. Although he'd never broken his Creed, he had certainly bent the rules a handful of times; in his defence, he was young, and stupid... And, touch starved. In truth: he probably still was.

        It had been a long while since anyone had touched him with any other intent than to kill him. He was used to the roughness of touch that came with combat: the way his fists hit another, and he was in turn hit, but your soft lingering touches were enough to distract him for the whole day.

        He began to crave them: any excuse to be close to you.

        If only the Mandalorian knew that he wasn't being as subtle as he thought. Even with the helmet disguising his eyes, you could feel his vision on you. At first, you felt self conscious under his gaze. You interpreted it as him glaring at you: maybe you had done something wrong with the kid? Or maybe you had offended him, and he just wasn't saying anything? But, slowly, you got better at reading his body language. It was tough at first, as Din revealed very little personal information about himself. Coupled this with the fact he was usually clad head to toe in beskar armour, you made slow progress. However, over time, you began to pick up on little cues. Soft, small hints that he wasn't glaring... He was looking at you: you'd caught him staring.  

        You were going to confront him about it, initially; maybe even make a light joke of it. You had quickly gone off of that idea. Soon, you decided you liked the Mandalorians eyes on you; you even let yourself believe that he might only have eyes for you.

        And soon, just as he craved you, you wanted more than just his eyes on you.

~~~

The universe had a fucking funny way of answering your inner desires. When you said, you had wanted to feel him, feel his skin on your own, when you had said you wanted to feel his touch, this wasn't what you meant. Kriff. This was getting bad. Din was bleeding badly.

        What had initially meant to be a pretty simple bounty had turned into a rather difficult one. The location Din was sent initially was inaccurate, and then when he arrived at the actual, correct location, it was a trap. His target had friends, and it soon became an ambush. The Mandalorian was still capable of taking them down, but they put up a pretty good fight, and before knocking out all of them, one had managed to stab Din in his side.

        Which lead you to now.

        Din was in your arms. He had stumbled into the Razor Crest, clutching his side with one arm and dragging the quarry with the other. You'd almost lost control in that moment, but you knew you had to stay calm for him. You rushed up to him, and quickly aided him in throwing the bounty into carbonite. Then, you made quick work of laying him down on your make shift medical bench, and asking him where the pain was coming from. Your eyes were wide with panic: he could probably tell. You were terrible at hiding emotions when it came to him, and you'd never exactly done this before. Sure, you'd patched yourself up more times than you can count: but someone else? Someone you cared about? Now that was something else entirely.

        "Din," you cooed gently, trying not to make his pain worse, "I'm going to need to remove some of your armour. Is that okay? Is... Is that breaking your Creed?"

        "I- No," Din huffed out, trying to be kind to you despite his situation.

        "Okay, good... Good... I need you to lay as still as you can okay. I'm just going to..."

        You don't know why you start narrating what you're doing. Maybe you thought it would put him at ease if he knew what was going on. Maybe it was making things worse.

        Gently, you peeled away his armour from his torso, and observed the large cut down his side. You pressed your hand against him, and Din winced in pain. Your hand retracted quickly, and you ran to the first aid kit kept in the Crest. You opened the bag, and began searching around for the bacta patch and disinfectant that you needed. Your heart was beating really quickly, and you could feel Din's pulse getting weaker. His breathing shallowed. You steadied your shaking hands as you brought the disinfectant up to his wound.

        "Din," you murmur, "Are you still with me? Din... I'm sorry this is going to hurt."

        You saw his head nod slowly, and you began cleaning the wound as carefully as you can. He winced in pain and his hand shot up; he grabbed out to you, and his hand was wrapped around your upper arm before you knew what was happening. Despite the situation, his touch (even through his glove) surprised you. Your heart rate began to increase, and your face felt hot.

        "I'm nearly done now," you promise him, "I'm just putting on the bacta patch and then you can rest."

        "T-Thank you, cyar'ika," Din replied, his grip on your arm faltering before letting go.

        You took his hand and squeezed it gently. Din was weak now but at least his wound has been tended to and he wasn't losing anymore blood. It was only now that the worst of it was over, that you took note of the blood across the ship. This would be one hell of a clean up. First, you washed your hands, and then you gently removed the remainders of Din's armour, save his helmet (of course). You unbuttoned his tunic and swapped it out for one that wasn't covered in blood- and one that didn't have a large hole in it. You like to think that he'd appreciate it.

        With the ship finally cleaned, and Din safe, you crawled into your cot beside the child. Your eyes felt heavy as you held the child close to you: you took one last look at your Mandalorian, before finally falling asleep.

~~~

Din Djarin woke up startled. His hand went to his side, at first, and then across his chest, before ending up resting on his helmet. His eyes scanned the room before settling upon you. His eyes softened; in your arms lay his little womp rat. He was safe, and so were you. Din sighed, relieved that you were both still okay.

        His eyes cast down to the pile of armour beside him: you must've removed it after he'd passed out. He recognised that he was now wearing a new black shirt, and that his old, bloodied one was nowhere to be found. His mind didn't have time to wonder where you'd put it, as the sound of him moving off of the make shift medical bench had caused you to begin to awaken. Your eye sight was blurry for a second, before focusing in on Din. He was up.

        He was up!

        "Din! You're awake!" you exclaim, shaking off any sleepy feeling that still remained.

        "Are you alright?" Din asks, stepping towards you.

        "Am I alright?" you repeat back to him, now also finding your feet, "You get stabbed, come home bloody to me -barely standing I might add- and you ask me if I'm okay?"

        Din shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

        "Never mind me: how are you feeling?"

        "I'm... I'm okay. Better now, thanks to you," Din reassured, reaching over to take the child from you now that he had woken up from his nap.

        "Well, I have been told I have an excellent bed side manor," you tease.

        "Oh yeah?" Din plays along.

        "Really! If it wasn't for this whole bounty hunting gig, I definitely would've been a nurse," you assure confidently; although truthfully at this point in time, you have no interest in taking care of anyone else besides your small found family.

        "You would've made an excellent nurse," Din chuckles.

        It warms your heart: hearing him laugh.

        "I thought you were going to pass out quicker than me at certain points, though," Din continues, "But I'm not dead so you must've done something right."

        "Hey now, Mandalorian: in my defence, I was not expecting you to come back covered in blood and barely conscious. Forgive me if I was a little rusty."

        You hadn't realised how close the two of you had become until now. His body was so close that you could almost feel the heat coming from his body. Or maybe it was yours. You weren't honestly sure at this point, but it was making your face heat up. You shyly looked away from his gaze. Seeing him like this almost felt unnatural. You were so use to him fully covered in armour, that seeing him without all the beskar felt like you were seeing him naked. Despite this, you enjoyed seeing him like this: he felt more human to you now. If he was feeling vulnerable at all, he didn't show it. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say he enjoyed this new layer of vulnerability because it meant he could feel closer... Closer to you.

        "You're forgiven," he murmurs, his voice low, "Am I forgiven, cyar'ika?"

        "Hm..." you hesitate, teasing him for a second, "I will have to think about that-"

        "-Mesh'la, please," he pretends to beg you, smiling under his helmet; Din's eyes remain on you, almost transfixed as you pretend to ponder the status of his forgiveness.

       "Only if you tell me what m- me- mesh'la means," you whisper in a hushed tone, "Or agree to teach me Mando'a. I have to know what you are saying about me."

       "Only good things," Din replies in the same quiet tone, "Beautiful."

       "Beautiful," you repeat back to him, your heart swelling, "Din you are... Me- mesh'la too."

       You expect him to reply: correct your pronunciation, or joke back with you but the Mandalorian has gone silent. Not an uncomfortable wooden silence. No, it was a warm silence. It felt right, and after a second, you adjusted to the new quietness. You imagine neither of you have had a moment like this in a long time. The silences you were use to only echoed with your hollowness, reflecting your loneliness. But this: this felt right.

       Gently, Din leaned his head on your own. Due to the presence of his helmet, he was careful not to be too forceful, but you soon accepted the gesture, and kept your forehead on his.

       A keldabe kiss.

       That's what you would come to know that as. Although it originally started as slang for a headbutt, it soon became a sign of affection among Mandalorians. Affectionate moments with the Creed felt few and far between, so this was a way around that. And, it was one you quiet enjoyed. Even if you couldn't always touch your Mandalorian in the ways you wanted to, in these moments it didn't seem to matter. Despite the Creed, despite everything, there was no true barrier that could separate you and Din Djarin.

       Your foreheads stay together for a moment longer, before separating. You look up at him, and you know -even without words, even without touch- he is yours, and your are his.

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Pale Jester Chain 1

Prompt: PJ finds himself alone with the Grimmchild after the bug who finished the ritual abandons the Grimmchild charm

By @alaska-ren-works​

“Oh, the red casts great and terrifying spells Ones which no one knows The drums go bang and the bats ignite ‘Lo and behold a toad!”

The Pale Jester hummed to the beat of his steps, the atmosphere of King’s Pass having a little color now, PJ thinks. Little taps from crawlids and squawks of vengeflies adding a little harmony to his cheery bells. Ah, to have an orchestra of his own to play and dance to. Never the mind, there’s always his friends he could sneak away with. He’s sure Brumm wouldn’t mind if he borrowed him and his accordian. Brumm was always a lovely companion with his somber mood. Hm, now if only he could remember where he left his lute he’d be on his way to play with the troupe.

The jester paused when mued noise echoed from a tunnel above. Shrugging, his bells jingled as he scaled the stone up and up while wondering what this little mystery was. A statue of a great bug with red eyes a-plenty loomed from the jester's place on the edge, guarding over a single opened chest. The noise echoed from its hollow depths.

A grub? It must be. Unless something else can make such high-pitched sounds.

The jester jingled quietly to the chest, preparing a little song to cheer the poor sap out. Who would leave a child in a desolate place such as this?

He'd have a word with the young one's parents. A strongly worded one at that. If he had a child, he would never abandon them when they needed him most.

Indeed. You have done far, far worse. Strange. Is the wind howling voices? What a peculiar land this is.

The sound whimpered louder and at this the jester froze. It couldn't be. No, of course not. Master had made sure the bug was to be trusted. They would never... They would never do such a thing...!

He hurried and his claws dug into the chest's metal. His heart stopped when he saw what, or who, was inside. The black gleaming horns. The scarlet flame stuttering under glassy eyes.

No.

"Grimmchild?"

A stuttered whimper his only reply.

How dare that excuse of a life betray our child.

Grimmchild did not respond when the jester picked them up, cradling them in his puy-sleeved arms. Dark red stained their cheeks. Dark, sorrowful red.

"Child," he gently cooed, frowning when they hardly moved their head. "How long were you left here?"

No reply. What have they done to you?

“Let’s go home, little one. I am certain you are tired after your long adventure,” he sang with restrained tones, his fury marbled with his grief for this little one. "I have a few tricks I want to show you! Made them perfect while Brumm learned how to juggle. He's not the most dexterous of us all but perhaps one day he can handle flaming darts! What fun that would be!"

No reply.

The Jester trembled with every rocking of his arms for the child. He remembered how the child laughed and beamed when the bug took them to gather the scarlet flames. The child sang with such glee at the bug's performance with the master. The child grew more brilliant with every step this bug took with them down to the kingdom's last flame.

Come to think of it, he had not seen the bug once the heart was defeated. ... No.

"O, child," the jester piped. Taking one step, a stalactite fell from above. His hand moved on its own and in moments, the rock turned to powder under his clenched fist. The child merely curled in his arms, eyes dimming to a close. "Child, you need rest! Once you wake, you'll be in such a lovelier place with the most delightful of games to play with!"

That... fiend... left the child when the ritual was over? Like a mere toy to be buried once play time ends?

That abomination will pay. For every tear this child shed.

Every. Damned. One.

-------------------------------

By @lametinkerer​

-------------------------------

By The Grimm Chronicler

At first, it was easily muffled by all the noise outside. Then he heard it. A thud, a sudden cry of desperation.

Investigating at the source, there he found it, hidden away within a small chest. A child. A weeping, frightened child, clinging to his robes so tight and desperately as though the mere mention of legging go could mean that they would return to the chest and be trapped once again. 

"Oh, child..." The Jester whispers. "Who could do something like this to you? How long have you been there?" Questioned the Jester, though he knew he'd receive naught but silence. Embracing them as gently as possible, he rocked them evenly back and forth until they stilled, having given in to slumber.

His investigation has proven itself to be quite uncomplicated. Within no time, he found out about the child's former guardian and how they were so utterly left aside to simply rot away in the confines of an ornate chest in a secluded area. The mere thought brought forth despicable, hideous emotions he never thought himself capable of experiencing.

Anger. Pure, unbridled anger.

He swore that he'd find the one responsible for this sick malevolence and bring them to justice. Mayhaps even the Master would offer his aid. It mattered little whether he did so or not, the Jester sought naught but to seek out the evil being and he would do so relentlessly. He promised that. As he held the child in his hands, their crimson eyes staring innocently at the funny man with a strange makeup and even stranger outfit and pointy prongs on his head, they giggled at the sight. "That abomination shall pay for every. Single. Tear you ever shed. I shall see to it. They will not go unpunished for such atrocity."

The Jester brought them closer to him, closing his eyes. They giggled at the contact, embracing him back.

"I promise you."

-------------------------------

By @lagt-duck​

-------------------------------

By @al-the-frog​

the unexpected isn’t always desirable

-------------------------------

By @largeegg​

-------------------------------

By @wasabi-arts​

The audience departed, the stage left empty, not a sound. Usually Brumm’s pleasant tune filled the halls draped in red with faint echoes of the notes, but tonight remained silent. It wasn’t often the bug was left with the distinct lack of noise, with no joke to entertain himself or company to keep. All that greeted him was the faint whispers of an audience no more, the spirits that haunted the troupe.

And to think at first you loathed him- a creature created by the king of all nightmares after humiliating your very existence as the king’s little fool. However. . now? You feel pity for him while you watch the jester in red with his head in his hand, sitting on the edge of the stage. He’s weighed by a misery he can’t understand, memories he’ll never recall, all in a world through the holes of a stice striped mask. The stamp of the Grimm Troupe.

On the stage, the jester just stared at something in one of his hands, round and white. Normally, it's something you’d dismiss- perhaps a relic spawning a curiosity that would be short lived- but the curled carving, the white charm shape- it was unmistakable. Something that he and his wife had once shared, then split in two- was suddenly regained.

Several emotions filled your mind as you, in your ghostly shadow of self that remained trapped in the nightmare realm bound by a red string, inched closer to your physical counterpart. The kingsoul. Last you remembered- no, last you knew you held it on your cold dead corpse in the palace long since gone, hidden within a lingering dream. The other half was to your wife, if she even still considered you as much after everything you had done.

Tears ran down his face while he laughed, unaware of the peeking figure standing by the entrance- Grimm, though not the one bound by nightmares. Though the cloaked one’s look of pained sympathy wasn’t where your interest lay.

“Ah. . . .h . a . . ha h.” He laughed through tears, some falling on the kingsoul he held in his hand. “Isn’t this hilarious- laughing over a rock!”

He cringes at calling it such a thing as you do, staring with a mix of disgust and sadness, watching the red flame’s reflection flicker in the charm. The broken crown even seemed to sag even more, a dinky replica of what you yourself once were.

“Did-” A pause from the fool sitting on the edge of the stage- his stage that was built for him in this troupe of misfits. “Did she give this to me to make me cry? Hah-ha! M-Maybe it has a crying effect.”

Your annoyance and anger switched into a deep sadness, watching your counterpart laugh through tears, tears of which he knew not where the source was.

“That’s not what that is-” You say to no one, letting out a sigh as you turn away, responding to a world that wouldn’t hear you regardless. “You won’t know, and I doubt anyone would tell.”

The jester and the peeking Grimm didn't respond, as you expected. Though, finally your counterpart peeked up, catching the taller, monstrous bug in a spare glance. In an instant he hopped up on his feet, charm in hand, greeting the master of the troupe with four open arms- the charm in one.

“H-Hello hello!” He cheered, voice cracking through his tears, the unfamiliar sense of deja-vu crippling his very being. He bowed. “Why, my performance as long since ended, but if my master himself wants another show- then I shall prepare for one-!”

“That is not needed, dear Jester.” Grimm said simply, waving a hand to pause the jester’s actions, finally deciding to enter the room. “While I do enjoy a good show- I didn’t wish to disturb your thought.”

“Thought. . ?” The jester questioned, stature changing from fun to a distinct slouch. You huff- and he looks in your direction, though he doesn’t see you. You’re merely a shadow haunting this jester’s mind. Soon enough his focus drifted back to the round object in his hand. “Ah.”

“Are you feeling alright-”

“Splendid! I am doing fantastically, Master!” He exclaimed as you scowled. Master- what a disgraceful word for a wyrm to call such a makeshift god. Though he’s not a wyrm, nor are you. Not anymore. “I have just been given a cute little charm by a fair lady deep within the gardens. Well- half of it! The beauty said I had the other half, haha!”

Grimm cocks his head, in worry and curiosity, making you wish your counterpart- the one born for the stage and as a mockery of yourself- wasn’t nearly as tone-deaf.

“Hm, you had the other half, she said?” Grimm asked, moving closer to the jester.

“Why, yes! And you’ll never believe where I found it- in some dark little place deep below. How odd!” Grimm let out a ‘hrm’ in response as he spoke.  “Found it on a corpse of all things- a hollow shell of armour! Don’t you find it curious, Master?”

“Hmm- that is quite odd. What do you plan to do with it?”

You watch the jester flinch in a rather odd fashion at the question.

“Well- I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll hang it on to it- or perhaps I’ll wear the darling little thing! Maybe it will help me cry on command, wouldn’t that be hilarious?” Silence. A long, agonizing silence greeted both for a moment, the red flame glittering in the dark room. All these tents had for light were shades upon shades of red- you quite hated the color.

“I suppose it is.” Grimm said, extending out a hand. Long, bony, black. He seemed to lack a lot of the segmentation that typical bugs had. “Why don’t you allow me to hold on to that until you decide what to do with it? We certainly don’t need such a thing getting sawed in half during one of your splendid performances!”

“Why- of course, Master! If you would like it- who am I to refuse such a request!” He hummed back, reaching out to give it to the taller bug. The action disgusted you. Giving away such a precious charm that was your’s and no one else’s, let alone to that made your blood boil.

“Are you going to let go?”

You turn, finding that the jester hadn’t let away his grip of the carved white stone. In fact- it was almost like he couldn’t.

“I--I apologize, Master. I feel like. . . I don’t want to let it go? That’s not very funny, though! Ha-ha! I-”

“Then you can keep it.” he said, the slight smile of his pointed teeth not hidden under his collar for once. “It is yours- so you will do with it what you wish.” The Pale Jester turned his gaze from Grimm to the charm once more, turning it in his hands once. Twice. “However, let’s not focus on that- you have a grand show tomorrow, and I would love to view it from the audience this time around.” He turned to leave with a bow. “I expect an even grander performance than before! ANd I am greatly looking forward, my dear Jester. Have a pleasant night.”

“Goodnight, Master.”

And with Grimm gone, you look back on your counterpart, giving a joyful wave with a solemn, sad expression on his face. The charm lay loosely in his hand. And for once, you wonder what he was thinking in that separated mind of his as he left the stage.

-------------------------------

By @ded-lime​

-------------------------------

By @vivifrage​

The wyrm was in tears.

In times like these, it was even harder to remember that the broken, warped Jester dancing around the Troupe’s grounds used to be these lands’ god-king. Cold. Stoic. Unfeeling, many claimed. Ruled by and ruling over pure logic and calculation.

Easily enough disproved with sufficiently annoying input; Grimm’s own memories trotted out tales of delighting in that knowledge over and over. The wyrm was a stick in the mud, a hardass, arrogant and prim and so fun to bother until he was literally incandescent with anger he’d deny up and down and up again.

Yet here the wyrm stood, muddied white carapace given a pink cast from the tent’s fabric all around, tears still slicking the black tracks in his mask, giving them an obsidian shine. And for the life of him, Grimm couldn’t feel that spark of delight in seeing the pale bastard showing some kind of emotion.

(The Heart certainly could, but its smug pulse felt oh-so-alien versus this dismal thing dampening all the rest of his core more thoroughly than any rain could soak an eternally-burning god.)

He couldn’t quite bring himself to a smile, even a polite one, when the Jester hopped over, something clutched tight in one hand. He settled for an inquisitive look, a soft tilt of the head, eyes alert and bright, hands raised in greeting.

The Jester waved back, in that brief moment as cheery and oblivious as ever. But the moment passed, and he hesitated, hands sinking back against his sides, the closed fist kept close to his collar.

Whatever he held, he pressed it to the lower third of his mask, be it in hesitance or reverence.

Or both.

Grimm let him take his time.

It was the least he could do, really. For the both of them. The wyrm to find his words, Grimm to settle the dread rising in his throat. That rather particular sort of dread, too, that one that anticipated an ugly, ugly task.

“Master?” the Jester asked at last, “May I tell you a story?”

“Of course,” Grim said. It was not a lie. It felt like it was.

“Well, once upon a time, there was a- a-” He clicked his fingers together. “Something bright, almost shining. Resplendent. White, white as snow or ash or death. A tree! No, a tree’s root. And she had crystals for eyes, but they’ve long clouded.

“And in exchange for a laugh, a smile, and a goodbye, she told the funniest tragedy. One of two lovers who saw in each other the world, and whose deeds drove them apart. She gave me a token of their story, of their love, and told me to do with it as I will.”

He opened his fist.

Cradled in his palm was half a charm. White, a colder color than even pale ore, so white and with such a sheen that it seemed to cast the tent in winter tones, the most direct reflections twinkling like evening stars. All save for a black stripe cutting across the face, through the hole of the eye, dug through the detail in the same way the marks on the Jester’s and Grimm’s own masks featured their otherwise plain faces.

Grimm’s stomach dropped. He clenched his jaw to keep it from hanging open. Deep within his chest, the Heart sang in shock, confusion, and uncertainty.

That was wrong.

That was so, so very wrong. In so, so many ways. In ways the Jester could not know.

His eyes traced the mark from halved forehead to fractured jawline. That should not be there. It never should have been in the Jester’s hands but that should not be there-

The Heart swallowed his burst of flame-hot anger, echoed it back with the roar of a furnace.

Grimm put on a polite face. It just so happened to bare his teeth.

The wyrm continued.

“Personally, what I would like to do is mug the other half of the other lover’s no-good corpse!” He twittered with laughter in a way the dour king never would have. The sound just made his carapace crawl. “Ah, but that would require finding it, and the Ritual has us so busy, Master. It must be a matter for later fools.

But, in the meantime, I don’t- It hurts. Such a story. It’s cliché, is it not? The doomed lovers? I could tell you six like that with my tongue tied, and I’m sure you could tell me twelve right back, and we’d both laugh at how silly they all are, to think their love could ever be enough. Perhaps it’s something about holding this little trinket but-” He closed his fist again, held it to his throat. When he spoke, his voice was choked, and he pressed two hands to his temples, another two covering his mask. “The sight of her stung my eyes and I drank her words as sorrowful wine, and now my tears fall and my tongue bleeds in all the pretty reds-”

“Jester?”

The wyrm stared at the waiting hand Grimm held out between them, eyes slowly rising to meet his. There was a spark in there, shadowed behind those vacant carvings in the mask, something bright and cold staring back at him. He smiled at it, and let the chill sink into his teeth.

“If it upsets you so, may I hold it for a time? For your respite, of course. I seek no undue pain from my people, and perhaps I could look into this local legend myself, so we could discuss it together. Besides, it is quite the curious artifact, and I would love a closer look.” His hand bobbed, palm up and curved into a perfect receptacle for the little broken charm.

(Well, not perfect. Only two beings in the world had ever had hands for that.)

Wordlessly, the Jester handed it over. It clinked into Grimm’s hand, its weight off-balance in a way that itched at his mind. And, for everything he knew it was, it struck him as so mundane. Like there should have been something to it, holding a wyrm and a root’s wedding charm. Even half of it. But rather, the thing felt…

Dead, it felt dead.

Comatose, at best.

(Or worst.)

(He glanced back at the Jester. The spark had faded from his eyes, replaced with mellow-warm embers.)

(The Heart thudded its relief.)

“Thank you,” he said, and stepped back.

The Jester blinked, visible only as the slightest hint of eyelids moving behind the mask. He stared at his empty palm, touched the tracks of his mask and rubbed the lingering wet he found. “Was I upset?”

He stared up at Grimm, searching his face. “What was I upset about?”

Grimm offered only a shrug before he turned away, and left the Jester standing alone.

“Brumm,” he muttered, clasping the other bug’s shoulder as he passed by, “Prepare a fire. I must commune.”

Brumm hummed in that low, doubtful way he always did when he sensed Grimm was up to something he ought not to ask about directly. “Are you sure you can’t rest for it? I’d not blame you a moment’s respite.”

Grimm paused, reached back, took his wrist and squeezed it gently. “I know. But I must be of clear mind for this.”

His thumb rubbed the halved charm, stroking up and down the new line carved into its face. The Jester’s story turned over in his head, biting in like a sliver of carapace caught between the teeth.

The dread grew sour.

This could not go on.

The Jester didn’t come to dinner. An odd happening; his appetite easily rivaled Divine’s, and he knew it had been suppressed. Allegedly for how recognizable a wyrm trait that was. But also, the Troupe only had so much in their stocks.

Still, a Troupe member in poor state was a Troupe member in poor state, and Grimm sought him out.

He wasn’t hard to find, exactly. Easier than it used to be by far. The Jester was loud, extroverted, and flashy. But even in his quiet moments, he had a pull to him.

No matter his background, though, Grimm should not have found him in the first tent he checked, hidden away under the first curtain he got a suspicious feeling from.

The Heart sank, staring at the Jester’s back as he curled up, sobbing into his hands. Something was going horribly, horribly wrong. The Jester was the dancing fool the wyrm had shown himself to be, that was all. If he cried, it was when something got too close, and Grimm had told the Grimmkin to ensure he stayed very clear of anything that could trigger that again.

Grimm sunk to the floor beside him, letting the curtain fall back into place. It brushed his back, the fabric thick and heavy, and absorbed everything but their breaths and the sound of the wyrm’s sobbing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, with all the fireplace warmth he could muster. His hand ghosted against the Jester’s back, bumping over the rings dangling where wings once laid.

(Going back up, stroking again, this time pressing harder, he swore he felt slight swells where the buds should have been burned out.)

“I don’t know.” Desperation bit through the wyrm’s voice, through all the tears and despondence. He shuddered, sucked in a raspy breath. “I don’t-”

He turned his face away, pressing his knuckles into his eyes. He keened, the low sound of a hurt creature, kept close and intimate by all the fabric they’d hidden in.

Grimm just rubbed his back, and let him find the words.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps he should have taken a more directorial role in this two-bug production, and told the Jester what was going on, what his poor soul ought to be feeling. How he was new to the Troupe, and some of the changes took time to settle in, he would be fine. Most everyone had been upset for at least one Ritual, especially their first, and sometimes it was hard to place those feelings, wasn’t it? It would pass, it would get better, it meant nothing, really. Not in the long run.

And, if his memory ran long, that sometimes stories just struck a chord, but he need not be upset at simple trinkets and tragic stories with doomed lovers. They were all so silly, weren’t they? Thinking that, in the end, their love would matter.

Why, he ought to set all of it out of mind, and come to dinner. Surely he was hungry?

His tongue laid still, his mouth stayed shut.

“I- I miss- I don’t know. Someone? Something? I don’t know. I can’t find them, they’re slipping through my hands every time I reach. But Master-” His voice broke, cracking into a plaintive cry. He clutched at his chest, hands pawing uselessly at the fabric over his heart. “It hurts.”

Grimm clucked his tongue and cooed. His arms wrapped around the Jester, drawing his form, at once limp to his touch and much too tense, close, until he tucked him against his chest. Head held to heart, listening to its steady beat. All four arms wrapped around his abdomen, knees bumping against his thigh, while Grimm held him and drew his wings from their resting place to wrap around them, shielding the Jester even further from the world beyond.

“I’ve got you,” he purred. The side of his jaw brushed against the wyrm’s horns. “I’ll make it better.”

The Jester shifted in his arms, head tilting up til Grimm found himself cradling its back. When he stared down to meet his eyes, he found that spark staring back, cold as ice and with just as sharp an edge. “How?” he asked.

It could have been a coincidence. A slip of the tongue, the familiarity in how he spoke, with a voice like a lone gust of wind trailing through a cavern. The weight to just that one word, the melancholy it steeped in.

Grimm fought the chill clawing at his back to give him a smile. Gently, he rested the wyrm’s head against his chest again, where the Nightmare Heart beat. “A nightmare feels so very real, does it not? As false as it may be?”

(Again, the sickly sweetness of a lie on his tongue.)

The Jester hummed. After a moment, he snuggled close, full body up against Grimm’s, cool against the Troupe Master’s warmth. “I guess.”

“Take your respite, Jester. Let me care for you.” He leaned back as far as he could, letting the Jester’s weight rest on him. “Then we can get dinner, yes? I bet you’re hungry.”

“Oh!” The Jester’s hand curled against his stomach. “Yes, that would be good. But… a moment, first. To catch my breath.”

“Of course.”

Forgetting was the greatest kindness he could offer the Jester, and the cruelest punishment the wyrm deserved. Let his troubles slip his mind. Let him cry and wail for things he didn’t know, acting out grief for the horrors he didn’t know he committed.

But there was not supposed to be such a gouge in the Kingsoul’s face. There was not supposed to be that soul behind his eyes. There were not supposed to be stories of beautiful roots or jokes about horrible wyrms. There were not supposed to be wing buds in the Jester’s back. The side of him that resided within the Nightmare was not supposed to have such a strain in its voice, nor was he supposed to feel the snap of spellwork.

Something was going wrong.

And all he could do was watch and try to stuff the wyrm back into the Jester’s shell.

-------------------------------

By @artisticdragons​

[dreamescapeswriting]

Pumpkin Juice ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 5K

PAIRING: slytherin!Jungkook x Hufflepuff!Reader

GENRE: HogwartsAU, Harry Potter Universe, friends to strangers, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers who have secret crushes on one another, touch her and I’ll kill you vibes, there is no wizard war in this so shhh, everyone is happy...Fred is Fred .

A/N: I used the “Wheel Of Names” to generate who would be used for this imagine and I got Jungkook, I thought since I didn’t give anyone a chance to request him I would do this as a one off for now :) 

Ever since you could remember it had always been you and Jungkook together, since you were kids you were always hanging out together and having fun. You'd met when you were younger, both your wizarding families had been friends for hundreds of years so it was fate that you and Jungkook would get along with one another. The two of you could never be separated, spending time with one another so much that people considered you siblings or some would even assume that you were dating. Your parents hoped you would date Jungkook since he was one of the best wizards in the country along with you by his side, the two of you were exceptionally smart and everyone had high expectations of you but once you began attending Hogwarts however, all of it changed. Instead of being your rock as he had been for all those years, Jungkook became a total stranger to you, being placed in Slytherin changed his personality for the worst. He began hanging around with all of the wrong people, Draco and Pansy influencing him to become one of the worst people you'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. 

Even in your final year, he was still pretending as though he'd never even known you, escaping to talk to you whenever he could though and in the summer he would attend parties at your home as if nothing had changed. As if he hadn't spent the entire school term torturing you and your friends with mean nickname and chants that they had been coming up with. The worst one being a song they had curated around Cedric's death in The Triwizard Tournament when he knew that you and Cedric had been dating for some time. 

"Look who it is, the book worm." You heard a familiar coo as you sat in the library one day during a free period, this voice didn't fill you with dread as many others did within the school grounds. 

"Fred," You greeted coldly, pretending to be mean to him as you tried to focus your mind on the potions book in front of you trying to get everything to set in your mind, Snape was always on at you for being behind in his class but it wasn't your fault. Potions weren't something you wanted to take but it was forced upon you by your family, almost every member was a master at potions except for you. Quidditch was where your skills laid and you could have been a professional if you could keep your grades up but you kept getting "D"'s in your potions class, 

"Another Dreadful?" George chimed in as he sat down beside you on one of the wooden chairs, glancing over at the latest potions report card you had gotten back, you slid it under your book not wanting anyone else that was inside of the library to see or overhear what was being spoken about.

"Snape hates me, that's all there is to it." You grumbled as your eyes continued to scan over the same sentence again and again but it was as if your head wasn't taking anything in that you were reading. 

"You just need a good tutor, someone who is exceptionally brilliant at potions," George said as he began straightening out his robes, brushing them off as he was clearly speaking about himself, 

"Someone who is also exceptionally good looking, charming and funny." He added as he put his elbow onto the desk, staring at you as he waited for you to take the hint. You smiled at him pretending as though you were taken in by everything he was saying, 

"You're so right Georgey...But where would I find someone like that, Hogwarts is filled with Idiots." You winked at him pushing his elbow out from underneath him and laughing in sync with Fred as George hit his head onto the wooden desk below him. 

"You're so mean to me," George began pouting out his bottom lip you were about to give him a sarcastic comment back when a shiver ran up and down your spine and the nearby candles blew out. 

"Well, well, well, it's the Weasleys and their little Weasley Whore." You shuddered at the sound of Pansy's voice, it was like nails on a chalkboard to you as she made her way over to the desk. Glancing you up and down as she spotted the report card sticking out from under your book.

"How was your Potions exam?" She asked as she pulled out a chair across from you, you knew she didn't care about your exam so you began to slowly pack your things up in silence, wanting nothing more than to get away from her and study in peace.

"Not so fast!" She called out, slamming her hand down onto the book in front of you and dragging it towards her with a giant smirk across her lips. 

Sliding out the report card the smirk only began to grow as she saw the large blood-red D written on the top of your card, 

"I would have given you a T so it would match you," She tilted her head to the side faking sympathy as she said something mean to you,

"T for troll...Get it? I thought I would explain seeing as you're so stupid," Fred went to step forward to say something but you clutched his wrist, it wasn't worth the fight or the detention you would no doubt get from Snape if he heard you were standing up to one of his favourite students. 

"Oh, this is a recent development," She snickered, staring down at your hand that was wrapped around Fred's pale wrist, the boy began to shake with anger but you tightened your grip. 

"I'm sure Jungkook would love to hear about this, maybe we could add a verse to the Weasley Is Our King song with Y/n in it as well!" She jumped up from the chair with excitement and began giggling as she walked out of the hall, humming the tune to the song she had referenced. 

"Not worth it, if Snape hears someone stood up to her there'll be hell to pay," You reminded Fred who was beginning to rant on about how Pansy had the face of a dog and the breath of one trying to get you to laugh. 

"It's nothing, I need to go and study some more in the common room, maybe I can convince one of the house-elves to sneak me some food," You nudged George as you got up from the table walking out of the library and down to the moving staircases. 

While on your way to the Hufflepuff common rooms you passed Jungkook who was standing outside the kitchen as if he was waiting for you to come by which would have completely outlandish to everyone else but to you it was normal. His leg was kicked up against the wall, nose down in a book as his eyes scanned over the text that was inside, 

"Struggling with something?" You questioned making him jump a little as he looked up from the Astronomy textbook, his leg dropped to the floor as he nodded at you. 

"I'll meet you at the Astronomy tower tonight but keep Pansy away from me, that was my deal with helping you with your studies," You reminded him of the deal you had made that summer between the two of you. 

Trapped inside your bedroom you waited for Jungkook to say something first, all-year-long he'd been torturing you relentlessly with Pansy and Draco. The name-calling and the persistent annoying pranks he would do were starting to get to you but in the summer he was the old Jungkook you knew and loved pretending as though nothing had happened. It was the same every year and you hated it. You couldn't see any reason why he acted the way he did in school,

"It would be nice if we could still be friends at school instead of pretending that you hate my guts," You mumbled as you watched him, he was sitting on the floor in front of your dresser, knees pulled into his chest as he listened to the party that was going on downstairs for your mother. The two of you were supposed to be doing the summer reading but your head was starting to pound with all of the new information and Jungkook was struggling with his Astronomy textbook.

"I can't...If I did that-"

"They would all hate you and you would feel like an outsider in your own wizarding house," You repeated what he had to you over a thousand times back to him in a mocking tone and he sighed looking at you, he never meant to hurt you when you were in school. It was all just supposed to be a joke but this time it had gone too far, joking about Cedric was one of the worst things he could have possibly done. Jungkook had known how much you and Cedric liked one another which was one of the reasons he was rooting for Cedric to lose in the tournament he'd never been good at placing his feelings but he knew jealously when he felt it.

"I am sorry about Cedric, he was a good guy." He mumbled not believing what he was saying but he knew he had to be there for you, deep down he had no idea why he was so jealous of you and Cedric all he knew was that he was and it made him feel like he had to be mean to you about the boy you liked. 

The room fell into silence as you both listened to the faded music playing downstairs, you never knew what to say when someone bought up the reminder that your ex-boyfriend was dead.

"Will you help me study this year?" He asked out of the blue, making you glance up at him and nod without thinking about it first. The two of you would normally study together in the summer, what difference would it make in the School year. 

"I'll make you a deal, we help each other study and I'll keep Pansy and Draco out of your way." He offered, reaching out his hand for you to shake if you accepted the deal he was making.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," You shook on it before sliding off the bed and sitting beside him, where Jungkook struggled in Astronomy you were great and where you struggled in Potions Jungkook was great it was the perfect combination. 

"I do keep her away from you but I can't watch her all of the time," He laughed softly as he looked at you but you weren't laughing, you were too angry from the fact that she had been mocking you again when Jungkook had promised to make all of it stop and for the most part it had. He wouldn't torture you as much as he had done for the last few years and he had done his best to keep Pansy out of your face, 

"Keep her on a short leash or Dogface will get a punch," You poked his chest as you began walking towards the entrance to your common room, it was no secret to where it was hidden since everyone and their great aunt seemed to know where it was located. Not to mention most Hufflepuffs allowed all of their friends to come and go whenever they wanted, 

"I've never been inside the common room," Jungkook hinted as you reached the barrels, 

"And you never will," You smirked evilly at him waiting for him to leave but he continued to stand there waiting for you to go inside so he could follow you in but you weren't going to move. 

"Jungkook, what are you doing down here?" Taehyung's voice rang out from the top of the hall, he had a tray of what looked like baked goods in his arms as a house-elf pushed him and Jimin out of the kitchen. 

"Torturing the house-elves again?" You questioned the two of them, folding your arms over your chest as a blush crept onto the two Hufflepuff's cheeks as they made their way over to you,

"We needed sustenance for our all-night-long study session," Jimin whined as you hummed at him, taking a cake from the top of the tray Taehyung was holding and began eating it waiting for Jungkook to leave once again. 

"I'll see you in Divination class," Jungkook whispered as he walked back down the hall backwards, his eyes never leaving yours despite being stared down by Taehyung and Jimin who turned to you as soon as the dark-haired boy was out of their sight.

"Flirting with a Slytherin, how scandalous," Jimin wiggled his eyebrows but you pushed him to the side, knocking on the barrel in the correct order before heading into the common room.

Instantly greeted by the warmth of the fireplace that was burning and the small chatter from everyone in the room, sitting beside Scarlet - one of the girls in your year - was Jin from Ravenclaw as they studied together...Well, it looked like they were staring down into the root of a plant but since they both loved Herbology so much you assumed they were studying.

"That's what it looked like to me," Jimin mumbled as he followed you over to one of the giant armchairs where you sat yourself down and took out your book to prove you were ignoring him. 

"You need classes then, there is and never will be something going on between me and Jungkook." You snapped as you looked up at him with piercing eyes as if you were daring him to say something else but he stopped speaking and you went back to reading. 

Divination class was normally one of the most laid back subjects you had taken in the school, it was all mostly a bunch of guessing work as well as skillfully avoiding getting asked to demonstrate by keeping your head in the book and avoiding Professor Trelawney's gaze as much as possible but today you could sense something was going to happen. 

As soon as you first walked in and saw Pansy on your table you knew there had to be something going on that involved pairs and bonding with other students for different Houses. 

"Pansy dear, you go first." You held back a snort at the idea of someone calling Pansy dear, Professor Trelawney was attempting to get everyone to read one another's future. A crystal ball was the only thing standing between the two of you on the table and it was taking everything inside of you not to pick it up and launch it at her face, maybe it would have made an improvement if you had.

"I see that Y/n is..." Pansy began staring into the ball intensely as she squinted a little everyone began to watch her as she dragged on the anticipation of everything,

"Y/n is going to get a "T" in the next potions exam," You scoffed out as everyone else in the room began to erupt in laughter, everyone that was except for you and Jungkook who was staring at you with "I'm sorry" eyes. 

"Do you know what I see?" You asked sarcastically as you looked at the ball in front of you and then back up to Pansy who had one eyebrow raised at you, 

"That the stupid dogface will fall off her broom in the next quidditch match this weekend," Pansy stood up ready to fight when Professor Trelawney clapped her hands together loudly and asked for the next pair to try and do it properly this time. Meanwhile you and Pansy exchanged looks as she threatened you with her eyes, you knew she was plotting something inside of her mind and you couldn't wait to see what it was. Not. 

Later that night when everyone was asleep you'd managed to sneak out of your common room and make your way up to the Astronomy Tower, you would have apparated yourself there but you still didn't have your license thanks to George and Fred distracting you one time and getting you caught between a wall.

"Took you long enough," You hissed playfully to Jungkook as he made his way into the tower and sat beside you, you had a blanket laid out on the floor beside the telescope that was already pointing where it needed to be for him to study Jupiter's moons. 

"I set everything up so you don't have to worry about it," You brushed off your legs as you raised up to greet him, he smiled at you. Even in the low light, the smile he was giving you sent your stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies, ever since Jimin had mentioned you flirting with him you'd began to see Jungkook in a different way and the romantic setting of the moon wasn't helping you fight back those feelings.

"You didn't have to, I just need help remembering which is which." He sighed as he walked over to the telescope with you, peaking through it to see that you'd already put it into the perfect position for him to see each moon.

"Which is why I did this, you can focus on remembering...Now, start with the red one."

The studying had gone brilliantly Jungkook was well under his way to remembering the moons and some of the named stars that surrounded it.

"Thank you again...and I'm sorry about Pansy earlier, she's just being a bitch because Draco has started to ignore her," You laughed at the thought of Draco ignoring Pansy, everyone knew how much of a crush she'd had on him for years. 

"It's fine, I'm used to her, but you're all going down in that match at the weekend," You teased as you placed a grape into your mouth, laying down on the blanket as you looked out at the night sky, Jungkook laying beside you so close to you that you could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath that he took. 

"You're on," He chuckled, turning to look at you as he watched you. He adored the way your eyes would light up whenever you looked up into the sky, the way your eyes seemed to shine no matter what light they were in, it made his head spin and his stomach do flips whenever he caught you.

"Thanks again...For helping me study," He whispered as he watched you waiting for you to look at him, 

"Well it's no problem-" You stopped when you realised how close you were to one another, your faces inches away as you stared into his eyes. Both of you so lost at how close you were that you hadn't heard the door to the tower open and Pansy making her way up the staircase, 

"I-I want to do something," He whispered to you as he moved a little closer, you stayed perfectly still as if you moved it might scare him away and you licked your lips. 

"Go for it," He leant closer to you, his breath touching your lips and making you shiver from how cold it was on your now wet lips. The two of you stayed like that, lips hovering above one another until you finally smashed your lips together, having enough of playing the waiting game. He smiled against your lisp, pressing his body against yours as he wrapped his arms around your body your heartbeat danced as he held you close to him. This was your first real kiss with someone and it had been someone you'd loved all these years without knowing it until right now until his lips were brushing against yours and your heart was trying to leap out of your chest. 

Pansy froze as she saw the two of you making out on the floor, she knew Jungkook had been meaning to study and was going to "accidentally" bump into him tonight so she could help him only to find this. While everyone thought she had a crush on Draco it was the opposite, she'd been crushing on Jungkook since the beginning of time but what wasn't there to love about him. Once she saw you weren't going to pull away she stormed off in an attempt to find Snape and lead him to the tower.

The weekend quidditch match had come faster than you expected it to, the week seemed to pass in a blur and Pansy, for the most part, had left you alone. You figured she was training for the match and focussing on that instead of focussing her attention on you so much which had been nice since you were trying hard not to focus on the kiss that had happened with Jungkook. It wasn't that you didn't want to think about it you did but he was insisting on telling everyone you were dating which meant everyone would know you were together. The pro to that would be that the teasing would finally stop and you could be with the man you loved but the con would be that everyone would know, the teasing could increase and you knew your parents would instantly start planning a wedding. Not to mention the two of you were up against one another in a quidditch match and you were both highly competitive against each other. 

"Here," George said as he handed you a small weaved basket filled with cupcakes inside, 

"What is it?" You laughed thinking it was one of their inventions but George shrugged his shoulders before pointing out the gift tag that was on the side of it, your name was written in cursive writing. 

Dear Y/N,

Good luck today, if I kick your ass please don't be too mad, I'll take you out on a date for it...Astronomy tower? ~ JJK 

A warm feeling spread through your body as you saw the note from him, quickly throwing it away before any of your teammates could sneak a look. 

"Cupcakes for us?" Fred called out loudly gaining the attention of the whole Hufflepuff tent who swarmed around you for the cupcakes, leaving one for you to take as you shook your head. 

"In the lead, we have Hufflepuff by 3 points, all we need is for someone to catch the golden snitch," Lee Jordan yelled out as you flew under Jungkook winking at him before doing a turn on your broom and heading over to Fred and George who high fived you. 

"Rub it in their faces," George laughed as he watched you steadying yourself, the match had been going on for almost an hour now and you were starting to get a little light-headed but you weren't going to let up, your team needed this win.

"Y/n?" Someone called out but their voice was faint as you felt swear pooling around the top of your head as you tried to focus on what was happening. The match was going on around you but it felt as though you were even there, you felt sick, faint and as if the whole world was upside down on you.

"She's going to fall!" Someone screamed out from the crowds right as your grip loosened on the handle of your broom, suddenly there was a rush of air coming at you as you fell towards the quidditch ground, the cold air cooling you down as you fell freely. 

"Catch her!" You knew that was Jungkook which only made you smile as you fell, it was nice that he was showing his caring side for you despite wanting to hide it all those times before whenever you would get hurt in a match. You could still remember the first injury you had, 

"You should have been watching where you were flying," Cedric barked at you as he sat beside you in the hospital wing, you were getting your arm stitched up since you'd accidentally flown into one of the stands in the match, cutting your arms and legs open but nothing too bad.

"You okay?!" Jungkook's panicked voice called out as he burst into the hospital wing thinking that you were alone, as soon as he saw Cedric bis blood boiled. If he'd been training you properly you never would have flown into the stands so this was his fault, 

"Showing a caring side for a puff?" Cedric laughed sarcastically as he watched Jungkook storm over to you, if there was anyone else in the wing he wouldn't have bothered coming near you but Cedric was Cedric. 

"You could have hurt yourself a lot worse than this," He mumbled as he looked at your arm and then into your eyes as his eyes filled with tears at the thought of you being injured even a little.

"Jungkook? Came to torture pipsqueak?" Draco taunted as he opened the door, your arm was dropped and you looked away from Jungkook who instantly began to pretend he didn't care that you were hurt when it was obvious that he did. 

"You should have heard the scream she made," Draco laughed loudly as he began to imitate you in front of everyone. 

Waking up to a bunch of hushed voices you groaned, your head felt as though you'd been hit over it by a cauldron around fifty times and you were praying Madame Pomfrey wasn't going to give you any more of the disgusting-tasting medicine she had been. You'd been in and out of sleep most of the night and you couldn't remember anything that had happened, it was all a blur from the tent to the pitch. 

"She'll be a little groggy but she's okay," Pomfrey announced to whoever was standing beside the bed, your eyes blinked open as you adjusted to the light coming through the windows. Taehyung and Jimin were standing by the bed holding a basket of cakes and fruit and on the other side was a worried looking Jungkook who was still in his quidditch gear despite the match ending yesterday.

"He hasn't left since he brought you in," Jimin smirked as he placed the basket down on the nightstand beside your bed, 

"I told you, you liked him." You would have picked up one of the cakes to throw at him as he left with Taehyung if you didn't feel so weak but you rolled over to face Jungkook. 

"That stench is you then." You laughed weakly as you sat up in the bed, leaning against the metal frame as you tried to remember what had happened in the match. You hadn't hit your head and there were no curses that you knew of that would do this to you. 

"I'll get you some water," Jungkook whispered as he got up and placed a small kiss on your forehead, he headed behind one of the curtains and began pouring a drink in silence when the doors flew open. 

"Well if it isn't Little Miss Y/n," Pansy squawked as she sat down beside you on the bed, almost crushing your leg which was still healing from the fall.

"Did you enjoy your cupcakes?" She smirked and that was when it hit you, the cupcakes that had been from Jungkook, It had been the only thing that could have done something so harsh to you but why hadn't it done anything to anyone else who had eaten them? It didn't make sense,

"Don't go looking too confused, if you paid attention in potions you would know why it only worked on you," She quipped, placing a cupcake from Jimin's basket into her pocket. Jungkook's grip on the jug of water tightened from behind the curtain, Pansy had no idea that he was even there and it made his blood boil. 

"Stay away from Jungkook and it'll never happen again," She told you as she got back up ready to leave when she was suddenly thrown against the wall by a blast of blue coming from Jungkook's wand. 

"Kookie!" You gasped out as he walked over to her, pinning her to the wall by her robes as he stared deep into her eyes, 

"Don't come near her, don't even breathe in her direction! If I even find out that you so much as glanced at her I will kill you." He pushed her a little before stepping away, 

"She's an ugly, good for nothing loser and I will kill her-" You flinched at the thought of her trying to kill you and it didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. Before Pansy could continue on her mouth was suddenly zipped shut and you froze looking at Jungkook who shook his head, 

"You insulted her, threatened her and made her flinch...I won't forget that and neither will my parents." He whispered as she shuddered, walking away from him. He knew how much his parents meant to her since they were some of the most well-known wizards in the community and she so desperately sought their approval.

"You're intimidating when you want to be," You laughed softly as he walked back over to you, running his hand over your cheek and smiling to himself. 

"I have to protect those I care about," He whispered before leaning down and kissing you once again. Your heart skipping a beat as soon as your lips connected but just as soon as it started it was over, he pulled back and made a disgusted face, 

"Pumpkin juice," You laughed as you realised he could probably taste the medicine you had been having since the night before.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii​ @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @innersooya​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​

[love-amihan]

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

GAMER BOYFIES PT. 2 // YUTA, JUNPEI, MAHITO

amihan's note: since the first one got lots of notes, i'm here to deliver more ~(^v^)~ this will be a bit different than the first one. ahh how i miss having our usual scimmage every night 😪 here's a few moments on how my teammates and i usually play our game, happy reading!

game; call of duty: mobile

bf!yuta x gn!reader, bf!junpei x gn!reader, bf!mahito x gn!reader

-okkotsu yuta

he's that teammate who always gets the dog tags

if ever he's the only one remaining and all of you are watching his gameplay, he gets all shaky

"stop, i'm shaking so much" he muttered on his mic while his character slides and jumps trying to find a good spot

but gets cheered up by the team, specially you

if it's the other way around, you're the last member. he will praise you nonstop;

your breath hitched as you see all your teammates get taken down one after another, good thing you manage to get into revival flight before your last teammate died. your teammates immediately reassuring you, lots of 'you got this' and 'you can do it' echoing your ears.

your character went down in front of the airdrop, you cursed seeing it has nothing in it, not even a rifle with a single bullet. you had no choice but to pick up the rocket launcher, you gotta use what's available. "enemy, enemy" your teammate alerted, you turn around and made some distance between the two of you as the enemy rains down bullets at you.

you used the rocket launcher doing some damage to the enemy, sadly you got taken out first. all of you groan as your screen shows big number 3, indicating your place. you felt yuta come closer to your side hugging you, "you did great, that was badass" he showers you with kisses causing you to giggle.

he loves playing with you

the way you're so focused with the game mesmerizes him

he can't help but get distracted all the time, causing him to die in-game

the boy is so whipped for you

the team always tease him for that

you will catch him staring at you and he will immediately avert his eyes back to his screen, blushing like crazy

he's acting like he's not your boyfriend, you can't help but shake your head smile evident on your lips

-yoshino junpei

i don't know if it's just me but he gives the gamer vibe, like a good one at that

his aim? top-notch, hands down

i feel like he's gonna be a shotgun user

his movements you ask? he flows like the wind he really said can't catch this ass

you can't believe your eyes sometimes, seeing how his fingers moves around his screen effortlessly fast

he assists you whenever, wherever you need him

will help you learn how to snipe!

well mostly because the team have lots of shotgun users

a lil side story; pls our clan master taught me how to use sniper and do hip-fire but my dumbass can never adapt (ಥ﹏ಥ) but one thing i did learn was use shotgun, it all worked out in the end ig ┐(´～｀)┌

he's the strategist of the team

will instruct you all what to do and not to do

an enemy squad approaching? he's already spurting out tactics as all of you took position listening to him

you are not that good with games like this compare to him but with all the one on one lessons he gave you, you can say that you're pretty decent with it. plus it was also another way of spending time with him.

you kept a look-out for the team as they take their needed loots, the team just did a flawless squad wipe thanks to junpei's strategies. your eyes caught something moving in the corner, just as you were about to say something bullets starts pouring at junpei's direction.

luckily, the enemy is within your range and you easily took them out without breaking a single sweat. junpei let out a whistle, pulling away from his phone for a moment to give you a quick peck on the lips, smiling down on his screen, "good job, love" you can't help but smile, this is definitely the best way to spend time with him.

-mahito

fuckin loud

like doesn't stop talking the whole game

yes, it was entertaining at first, all his jokes and funny stories

but as the game progressed, he just became annoying

you're the vice master, so if ever you can kick him out anytime :D

you never miss a beat threatening him, using your vice master card

the only thing holding you back from kicking him? he's really good!

like his sniping skills? spot on, sheesh he has no chill

loves poking fun of you

he will never say this but he really looks up to you and respects you as a player

there's this one time, he was waiting for the revival flight he saw your gameplay;

you scope in and move it to at least get a hit on the enemy. once you were confident on your aim, you pushed the fire button but it didn't even land a hit on the enemy. you heard a snort beside you as you groan, "that was so bad" he commented.

you glare at him, giving a reasonable excuse "the enemy was moving!" you were not wrong though, the enemy was indeed moving. smh mahito, you cocky bastard.

there's also this moment, where there's only two squads left. your team and an enemy squad;

you saw a lone enemy that had no clue with their surrounding, so you took this opportunity for a perfect ambush. you opted for a shotgun wanting to get closer to the enemy, once you were in range you began spamming the fire button as you circle around them.

at the same time you also took damage, you were reloading your shotgun but before you can finish doing so, your character dropped dead and a dog tag was displayed on your screen. you made a confused noise, mahito running towards your dog tag while laughing loudly. you look at him, a little upset "you really used a whole mag for one person?" he taunted.

his character scanning your dog tag, you cross your arms now more upset. "if i knew there was another one, i would've used two!" you complained, he reaches out to you pinching your cheeks "sure sure" you huff "plus i was reloading" he chuckles pulling you closer to his side, leaving a kiss on your temple.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

tagging; @lumpiang-toge bcs yuta is adorable here usto q lang din umatake