#even on the last day they seemed pretty chill (although they did have MUCH bigger things to be worrying about)

[6flyingosprey6]

People who don’t watch BBH, are your streamers characters (as in cubitos not content creators) genuinely still upset about what Bad did in purgatory?

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

story masterlist | next

What the actual fuck.

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. There’s some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but it’s much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie. 

The point is, it’s not normal. It's not the kind of thing you’ve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life. 

And yet, you’re the only one who seems to notice it.

“...I keep telling you, it’s weird,” a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. “I can’t get rid of it. There’s this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.” 

The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. It’s literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. They’re all just talking like nothing’s even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby. 

You’re the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life? 

Actually… where are you right now? 

Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field? 

You’re at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school you’re used to attending. It seems like you’re even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, it’s way too realistic. 

Pinching your cheek doesn’t help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesn’t hear), almost as if it’s taunting her.

You’re not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if you’re being honest. But that creature can’t be good news, and even though you’re admittedly pretty scared, it seems like you’re the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who even realizes it’s here. 

Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach. 

“Excuse me…?”

You call out to the group of girls. There’s no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that there’s some weird creature in the vicinity? If they can’t see it, there’s no reason they’ll even believe you. They’ll probably just think you’re crazy or something. 

As it so happens, though, you aren’t required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale. 

You’ve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction. 

And then it screams. 

Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. You’re not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, it’s trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

You’re worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that it’s going to attack you, but that doesn’t happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasn’t one of aggression, but rather, fear. 

So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.

“Whoa, wait,” she mumbles in disbelief. “It’s… it’s gone. I think I feel better now. No way. It’s actually gone! I thought it would never end!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just all in your head?” one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. “Oh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didn’t really hear what you said.” 

“Uh.” 

You’re not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your face—which is kind of offensive, honestly—and then it flew off like no one’s business. 

A bit hesitant, you try asking, “Sorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?” 

Now it’s their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if you’d actually brought up the weird fly creature. 

“What do you mean where are we? We’re… at school, where else?” 

The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasn’t really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace they’ve never been before?

The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves. 

“Why’d she even ask that all of a sudden…?” 

“I don’t know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe she’s still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.” 

They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. You’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so you’re starting to worry that you might be going insane. 

The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? That’s what they call these kinds of things, right?

This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really don’t like this. It gives me the creeps. 

You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesn’t work. And you’re not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further. 

A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that you’re knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like it’s just been split open. 

“...holy shit, are you okay?!” 

You can hear a student running towards you, but since you’re lying on your back convinced you’re about to die, you don’t pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain you’re feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isn’t this too much?

However, things are only about to get weirder. 

Like way, way weirder. 

“I’m so sorry!” the same student apologizes. It’s a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. “I swear I wasn’t even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!”

From afar, another student chimes in. “Even when you hold back, you’re way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didn’t you?”

Did he just say… Itadori? 

For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut. 

A boy that you’ve most definitely seen before. 

Your jaw drops open. There’s just no way. This is… Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesn’t actually exist? 

Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, it’s getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feel—the pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chest—are impossible to ignore.

It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didn’t even notice it. Ordinary humans normally can’t perceive curses. Most of the time, they’re completely unaware of their existence.

You realize how utterly absurd this is. People don’t just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesn’t happen.

Or at least, it’s not supposed to.

“Wait, your—your nose is bleeding!” Itadori exclaims. “I need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?” 

He appears frantic, which of course he is, since he’s a good guy. He’s the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist. 

…so, is this seriously happening right now?

“I-I’m fine,” you try to insist. “I just… need a moment. And then I’ll be okay.” 

Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldn’t care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel can’t even be put into words.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a moment’s pause, he offers you his hand instead. “Here. Try standing up. If not, I’ll carry you there, okay?” 

It’s difficult just to form a response. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that you’re face to face with someone you never thought you’d be able to see in person, let alone speak to. 

But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening. 

And so, you take his hand—changing the course of your life as you know it. 

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[dokifluffs]

Pregnant | Osamu, Kenma, Akaashi, Sakusa

Pairings: Osamu X Reader (female), Kenma X Reader (female), Akaashi X Reader (female), and Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff!!! Pregnant reader!!

Author’s Note: im having some v domestic vibes and baby fever so might as well share it with you all too! Happy reading~ 

Warning: all post time skip! Pregnancy (duh)

Pregnant | Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Atsumu

Osamu: 

Crickets chirped into the darkness of the clear summer sky, stars twinkling as far as the eye could see as his keys jingled in the door, the cool air conditioning greeting him as he stepped in

The plastic bag of steaming hot onigiris rustled with every step and move he made

You sent him a text asking if he could bring home some onigiris, craving for some especially since you had been home all day while he was at work before he would have to take off on maternal leave when your arriving son would be brought into the world

The kitchen lights were off but the living room lights and tv were still on playing a random house hunting show

He approached your sleeping body, laid on you side with a pillow in between your legs, your arm draped over the side of your belly, the other acting as your pillow  

He set the bag gently on the table and knelt down in the space between the table and the couch right in front of you

“Y/N, honey,” Osamu’s voice was as gentle as a summer evening breeze, the kind that just made anyone feel good as they relaxed on a grassy hill, taking in view of the colorful sky as the sun set in the distance

“I’m home,” he leaned close and pressed a kiss to your forehead

Seeing you after being away all day, it made him wonder what you did at home all day, how bored you must be, how tired you must be

He caressed your cheek, tilting his head to take your sleeping face at a better angle

“Y/N,” his voice was silky and light in a quiet singsong way, almost humming your name while speaking it as he grazed the back of his fingers over your plush, smooth cheek

You reached your hand from your belly to his, a small smile pulling at your lips as you brought in close to your nose and took a deep breath

What he did not expect was you biting into his hand

“Y/N, honey, wake up.,” he laughed as he carefully shook you awake, trying to pull his hand back

It didn’t hurt, more like you were nibbling on him but this was one, if not most, bizarre thing you had done in all of your pregnancy

“‘Samu~ welcome home,” you woke and smiled sleepily, reaching your arms up as he leaned in to meet you halfway

He helped you sit up and opened the bag of onigiris, some new and not even on the menu yet, before you could even ask about them

You sat close, leaning into his side as the two of you ate, the tv on more of a background sound before he turned it off, giving his undivided attention

“This is so good,” you spoke, mouth partially full with one of the new onigiris, your craving being satiated as always provided by your loving husband, Osamu

“Are ya sure?” He asked, a little serious but mostly joking. “It didn’t feel that way when you were chompin’ on me earlier.” He stuck his hand out with the lightest marks made by your teeth moments ago. “Were ya that hungry?” He rubbed your shoulder with his hand, taking another bite of his own onigiri

Your eating came to a cease, laughter coming out as you set your onigiri down in your lap to take Osamu’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” you said totally unbelievable with all the laughter and giggles erupting from you, it could only make Osamu smile himself hearing your laughter

He didn’t even realize how long he had heard it but it felt so good, it felt nostalgic that made him love you even more

“Did it hurt?” You traced your finger over his skin, looking up to him

“Nah, I’m jokin’, eat.” He traded his onirigi to his other hand so he could hand you yours from your lap

It was your craving after all

The two of you ate one after the other, sitting comfortably side by side as if time didn’t exist

It didn’t take long at all before the bag was empty but the two of you stayed put in the living room with both hungers satiated

The room filled with a comfortable silence as as your bodies melted together

Your hand rest over Osamu’s as he rubbed your belly, reality setting in for him, and even you, for the nth time since you announced your pregnancy

This was really happening

You were his wife, you were going to have his child, both your love for each other in a new life

He was going to have you by his side just like this and you were going to have him, just like this

And one day, there will be a tiny pair of feet in between and he couldn’t wait

Kenma: 

Your steps sounded louder and louder as you went down the stairs, feeding the insecurity of your looks now that your belly was swelling bigger as time went on, days and weeks, months passing to your due date to the newest addition of your family with Kenma

A new Kozume brought to the world :)

Time was ticking

The hem of your oversized t-shirt tickled your thighs as you walked waddled toward Kenma in the living room, the wooden floors creaking with every step, it just poked and prodded at your insecurities

You paused right in the middle, the couches a few strides away but you couldn’t move another step

The sight of your body in the tv was the cherry on top- your plumped up body, the clear weight gain, especially your stomach although you were pregnant

But still

You felt so much bigger, you even stayed off of social medias seeing your old pictures and your recent ones families had taken, posting them

The difference was so great, it made your heart race, a chilling panic ghosting through your body, raising goosebumps over your arms

“Y/N?” Kenma’s voice pulled your mind out of the clouded thoughts of your mind. “What’s wrong?” He paused his game, standing to his feet, over to you in his comfortable sweats and kodzuken shirt with a simple white aesthetic that was eye catching but not overbearing

“I’m so much bigger,” you looked to him with glistening eyes, visually upset over your weight gain from pregnancy but it was bound to happen to everyone who got pregnant. “I’m so ugly,” you felt disgusted, your voice cutting off at the end and you wanted to turn away, head back upstairs, and hide under the covers until tomorrow

“I guarantee you that you are not ugly,” he rubbed his finger to the back of your hand on your belly, a little thing he did as he asked “permission” to hold your hand before he took it into his own

“Come with me,” he led you over to the couch he sat at earlier, the gray leather couch

He sat leaning onto the arm rest and some pillows, his legs spread open and patted the open space between

“I won’t fit,” you shook your head, completely sure you were way too wide to fit in between Kenma’s legs

Kenma was very much a stick, pretty thin, not too much taller than you but this just seemed impossible for you, especially since it felt like you were double his weight and width despite it being not true at all

“You will,” he reassured

You hesitated before sitting down, biting back all your thoughts and reasons as to why you should sit somewhere else or you needed to be anywhere else so you didn’t have to feel this way

But Kenma was right

His legs were own both sides of you and he eased your back to his chest

“Wait, Kenma, no-“ you tried to sit up, only to unable to because of your belly

“I’m too heavy.” Heat rushed up to your head, your want, no, need to leave eating you from the inside

“You’re not. Relax with me tonight.” He brought his arms around your body, handing you his personalized switch with animal crossing opened knowing this was one of your favorites

“Just play,” his voice was soothing to your ears, calming your heart

As you ran his character around his island, the more Kenma gave you tips, making light fun of the way you played, your thoughts and fears about your body slowly began to dissipate

With your mind wrapped up in the game, the more you let everything go

He was always able to read others and analyze things well, encased in his shell from a young age of being an introvert

But there was something about you, along with Kuroo and Hinata and others, who were able to coax him out of his shell

You were so wrapped up in the game, you hadn’t even realized Kenma’s hands resting on your belly behind yours holding up the switch, occasionally rubbing it as he let out a gleeful hum with his chin resting on your shoulder, watching you play, pointing out things you may have missed or advice on what you could do to maximize profits

Akaashi: *S/N* = Story Name 

Akaashi’s hand was soft in yours as you excitedly led him up the stairs toward the finally finished nursery

He, along with the help of your father, painted the room a light beige color and when the paint finally dried, brought in all the furniture like the cribs, changing station

All that was left was for you to decorate it as much as you wanted and you absolutely made sure he saw none of it until now

You opened the door revealing a complete nursery, he didn’t know where to look first but most notable was the mobile above the crib- little owls hung and when turned on, they rotated in a circle that made it seem like they were flying

“Push that button,” you stood right beside him, holding his arm, your heart pounding in your chest out of excitement

And that was when he heard it- the lullaby from a music box he had gotten you when he proposed to you a couple years back. And here it was, a tune that you two’s child will be growing up hearing

The sound of the device was so soothing, it made akaashi feel like he was just meeting you last week and getting down on one knee to propose to you yesterday

“It’s our song, Keiji,” you rest your head on his shoulder. “And it’s going to be theirs.” You brought his hand up to your belly as he turned to you, his gaze never leaving you, his eyes trained to your smile as you looked down to your bump and the feel of his touch on you

The way your eyes shimmered when you looked up, the same smile he could never get tired of in his life, it made his heart swell so big in his chest

He leaned his head close and cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours. He had to show his love for you, to thank you for being with him in this life, thanking whoever or whatever brought you to his life

You certainly changed it and he wouldn’t do anything to change that

“What was that for?” You laughed, stealing another small kiss from his lips as he pulled away, his sea green eyes as enchanting as always when he opened them

“The song reminded me how much you truly mean to me, my love.”

It felt like you were in high school/ university all over again- his simple, straight-forward words that were always able to reduce you to a blushing mess

“What should we read them tonight?” Akaashi smiled as he knelt down in front of the little shelf filled with children books, mostly gifts from his and your mother, as you sat back on a small couch adjacent to the crib

“Anything,” you chimed from behind

With that, Akaashi chose S/N and took his seat beside you. You draped your legs over his and rest your head on his arm as he opened the book and began to read the story

It was as clear as you remembered from your own memory, the images and scenes from your own childhood playing so vividly in your mind

Akaash’s voice was so smooth as he read aloud, voicing the character(s) with ease, it naturally made you a bit lethargic yourself hearing this story

Guess bedtime stories still worked even tens of years later

As the story came to an end, as Akaashi read over the happy ending, his story came to a stop as you raised your head, gasping

“What, what is it?” He suddenly set the book to the table beside it as he sat on the edge of couch, turning to you as you stared down to your belly. “Are you hurt?” He began to grow a bit frantic, his panic growing when you didn’t respond

“No, no, no, Keiji, the baby moved,” you looked up to him, your smile slowly spreading on your face, melting away his fears as relief washed over him

“Look feel!” You snatched his hand and placed it on your belly and it was true

The little baby moved inside of your belly, kicking the side of your tummy right into Akaashi’s hands

The doctor suggested to begin doing activities with the baby such as well as movement being something that was going to happen soon

But neither of you thought so soon

You were wide awake at this point as you felt your child move inside, a sensation you’ve never felt before, only seen in videos

“Hi, baby,” you spoke to you belly, a tear escaping from your eye as you looked up to Akaashi, your love for him and the two of you overflowing. “We’re your parents,” your voice quieted down to a mere whisper

The two of you sat astonished watching the little movements that lasted for about a minute, your hands never leaving each other, staying on your belly

This was real, this was your reality, your life with the one you loved so much

And he loved you with every bit of him, he couldn’t imagine what he would do in another life without you

Sakusa: 

It felt like your nausea combined with your cold was going to be the end of you if not the constant kicking from your daughter in your belly at your organs and even your ribs some times

You winced in your seat on the couch, hand over your belly as you took deep breaths through your stuffed nose through pain on top of all the things that was going through your body

Sakusa felt his heart drop beside you, wearing double masks over his face to make extra sure he wouldn’t catch any of your germs from your cold and morning sickness

“Another kick?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded your head, pushing though it. “I feel cold…” you closed your hands around the extended sleeves of the oversize sweater you wore, leaning closer to Sakusa

He tried not to mind this too much but it was like an irritating itch that wouldn’t go away, the fact how you hadn’t showered or anything today yet making it execrable for him

“How about a bath then?” He hesitantly rubbed his hand over your clothed shoulder but got over his lifelong phobia for a second

You were going to be by his side for the rest of his life. He had already seen and touched every bit of your body

You were bearing your guy’s child. This couldn’t go on forever

His touch was so simple, so light, it fed a hunger for him you didn’t realize you had deep inside but at the same time, it took you by surprise

The Sakusa you met years ago wouldn’t even sit or stand, let alone breathe, within two to three feet to anyone and years later, after marriage, and now with the start of a family, he was climbing the obstacle of his fears step by step

He knew, he told you with his own words he was never one to share a loving touch or caring words. He wanted to, god he wanted to so badly to let go of his cares and worries and fears but he couldn’t. It was etched into his skin and body, imprinted for his eyes and mind to constantly see and think about

But he wanted this to change. He wanted to do and say so many things to you to show his love that he deeply felt for you, it moved him and tore him on the inside

“Yes please,” you nodded

Sakusa had you walk in front of him, making sure you didn’t lose your balance going up

He took care of everything, adding soaps to the bath at the perfect heated temperature that would be perfect to soothe you as well as take care of some germs

Steam arose from the bubbly water

The two of you took off your clothes and he was the first to get in, his muscles instantly relaxing with the therapeutic temperature

You followed suit, feeling the subtle creeps of awkwardness

Again to your surprise, Sakusa took hold of your shoulders and carefully leaned you back into his chest with his legs crossed loosely beneath your legs

He brought his arms under the water, his hands looped around your abdomen and found their place on your belly

As soon as his touch was on you, you took in a sharp inhale, jolting in the water that created a little wave among the bubbles floating

“She’s been so active today,” Sakusa commented as he rubbed his hand in a circle on your belly, the other holding your hand as you gripped onto him through the pain

“Mmhm,” you gave a pained hum, eyes shut as you continued to breathe deeply

Sakusa could see the clear pain you were in, all the nausea and emotions that were all pent up in your body, it made guilt prick at his heart as he imagined all the times you probably wanted to reach out to him so he could hold you to help you though this but refrained

He could see your figure so clearly in his mind, reaching out but pulling back

Enough was enough

He pulled his arm from the water with a prominent splash and took off his masks, setting them neatly to the side

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this pain, Y/N.” Sakusa leaned close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, stifling his obsessive phobia internally. “Please never hesitate to reach out to me… I want to be a better husband for you…” He admitted

It felt so good to say this- it felt better than washing his hands or putting on a new mask

“I’ll be better,” he vowed more to himself than you

“Omi, it’s okay but thank you. I won’t.” You rubbed your hand over his forearms under the water, your chills from earlier long gone now  

It was like magic

With Sakusa’a hands rubbing your belly, it was like your daughter sensed this and her kickings finally ceased for the rest of the bath

“She’s not even born yet but she’s already daddy’s girl,” you leaned your head back to his shoulder, smiling tiredly to Sakusa as his lips mirrored yours

“You’re my girl now and forever, though. She’ll just be my little one,” he leaned close and pressed his lips to your forehead

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101​ @abcdaichi​ @oyasenpai​ @kaaidalupita​

[burnedbyshoto]

I really hate you

— Shinsou knows he shouldn’t trust villains. Especially villains who make his mind spin and stomach twist in joy. But there’s something about you that keeps him coming back for more.

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pairing: pro hero!shinsou hitoshi x villain fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, a little bit of juicy plot, pro hero!au, reader is a villain, betrayal, biting, marking, collaring, cursing, hate sex, rooftop sex, body liquids, angst

word count: 8,180

a/n: i like deception :) being a chem TA is pretty fun, except when im in lab for 8 am until 4 pm. listen,,, I also really liked this prompt I made last night because the one I had before wasn’t spicy enough for me anymore. I hope you enjoy though! like comment and share for the algorithm (jk been watching too many tikytokys)

kinktober day 8 main kink: collaring

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When the sun sets, and the moon is high in the sky, and the chill of the bitter cold winds raise ceaseless goosebumps on your arms, and the only people who are up are drunken businessmen and tiresome students, it is a common belief that this is when the freaks come out.

The freaks come out to play at night.

You are one of these freaks.

Heh.

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Shinsou nodded at his friends as he walked through the doors of the agency he worked at. Despite the power of his quirks ability, he was an underground hero (unless the ultra-rare occasion where they needed his quirk in the limelight); he was stationed within a large, well-known agency and was one of the founding heroes there at that. His ability to be hidden from the bright lights of the world were both easy and challenging; most of the world knew him as the kid from UA’s Sports Festival that went toe to toe with nearing number one Pro-Hero Deku. It both irked and embarrassed him when that event was brought up; on the one hand, it was true! He had nearly beat Midoriya during that final stage. Yet, on the other hand, their memories seemed to recall some crazy quirk-fueled fistfight where Midoriya had broken his entire body in the duration of their fight. 

‘No,’ he often found himself responding back to the gentlemen and ladies who would awe at his school-day adventures, ‘there was a fistfight, but Midoriya handled it without using his quirk except to snap him out of my quirk.’

They always looked embarrassingly horrified by their faulty memory when they pulled the clip up on Youtube, their bows quick in apology before they made off. 

But people recognizing him from that was rare as it gets, fortunately even with the large agency stapled to his alias, he was quite good at his job—a shadow in the night, an urgent whisper to the villain freaks who roamed the night.

“Ah, Shinsou-chan!” Kaminari pouted, his body draping over his purple-haired friend as Shinsou moved to change from his regular clothes into the black triple-weave kevlar of his hero suit. He had once sported a black cotton-like costume akin to Aizawa, but after many, many gun shootings and stabbing incidents, he figured he needed something sturdier. 

“What is it?” he asked, rising up from his bent position so that Kaminari couldn’t take advantage of his slouched form. 

Shinsou’s tired, purple eyes met the exhausted pair of Kaminari.

“Today was so hard,” Kaminari sighed, his lip still put into the stupid pout, and he slumped onto the bench behind Shinsou. His feet were spread before him, fingers drumming onto his directional equipment. “Since it’s winter, the night comes sooo much earlier now. I swear some weirdos really appear out of the woodworks when the night comes! Like just before I was going to make my way back here, I swear I saw Aizawa-sensei hanging out on the rooftops like some super-secret ninja, right?”

Shinsou frowned. He knew his mentor turned friend was actually on vacation at the moment in Hawaii. Something he thought, at the very least, was long overdue. 

“Aizawa is in Hawaii right now,” Shinsou quickly spoke, his hands buckling the belt on his pants, before moving to lace up his boots. 

“Oh fuck, I told Todoroki he was in Seoul,” Kaminari cursed, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. 

“Good going, who knows what weird message or gift he’ll end up sending to Aizawa now,” Shinsou couldn’t help the small smirk from spreading on his face at that note.

After being accepted into the Hero Course over in UA, Shinsou couldn’t help but be initially disappointed when he was placed within Class 1-B — Class 2-B at that point — simply because his mentor was with Class 1-A. The initial disappointment didn’t last very long when he got to know the rest of Class 2-B better, and he saw that while 2-A possessed raw talent, 2-B were more well-defined with a much bigger take-no-shit mentality that he appreciated more. That and 2-A were being strangled by a new villain of the month far too often, and Shinsou just wanted nothing more than to graduate from high school. 

Still, his lack of enrollment in Class 2-A didn’t mean that he didn’t see the rambunctious, nearly intolerable group of twenty in class 2-A. As a matter of fact, he thought he saw them a bit more than he’d like. Aizawa was his mentor, so he understood seeing him around, but for some reason, 2-A was never too far away. As soon as Shinsou was admitted into the Hero Course and the two hero classes had weekly meals together, which meant that to him, just the slightest bit, 2-A felt like an unwanted, annoying, ugly stepchild.

So no, Shinsou could not tell you 2-A’s inside class jokes, but he knew a lot more about the forty other hero students than he’d ever like to admit. 

And through his knowledge, he knew that the ever so powerful Todoroki Shouto was an idiot, probably a bigger one than Kaminari.

“I hate that you call Aizawa-sensei just…” Kaminari trailed off, a disgusted shiver running down his spine as if it sickened him to remove the single formality.

“Aizawa,” Shinsou said once more.

“Stop.”

“Aizawa.”

“Hitoshi!”

“Aizawa.”

“PLEASE!”

“Shouta.”

Kaminari hit the floor, his chest heaving with fake, bitter sobs while Shinsou couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his over-dramatic friend on the ground. He had to admit, Shouta felt weird on his tongue too.

“Stop making a huge deal about how Aizawa and I are closer than you are,” Shinsou half-joked half-told-the-truth.

He was more than well aware of his mentor’s former students trying to become even closer to their beloved homeroom teacher. All doing it in their own ways, all relatively unsuccessful because unknown to them (but not Shinsou), Aizawa already loved them all thoroughly, not that he’ll ever tell them.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHAVE OFF MITTENS FUR!”

Oh yeah, that had lost a lot of love points for Kaminari.

Sighing softly, Shinsou placed his newly replaced coiled capturing weapon around his shoulders, and his artificial vocal cords mask onto his chest until he was off on patrol.

“Why’d you think you saw Aizawa?” he asked again, trying to finish the conversation so that he could leave. It felt like it was going to be a long night if Kaminari confirmed where his thoughts were already trailing. 

“Hm?” Kaminari finally looked up from his puddle of tears on the floor, tears streaking all over his face, small charges of electricity humming off it. He blinked once, twice, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as if the answer was there before his fist came down to hit his open palm in a flash of realization. “Oh, I remember! There was this person, obviously not Aizawa-sensei, standing by the edge of a building watching everyone below. Hair whipping in the wind and his capturing weapon fluttering around them!”

Just as Shinsou thought.

“Where did you see her?”

“Her?!”

“Where, Kaminari?”

“Uh… well, I guess by Gramps convenience store. Don’t tell me this is some super sexy megafan of yours! Wait… do tell me, or… no, I’ll get jealous if you’re having rooftop sex with — eh?! where are you going?! Hitoshi?!”

“My shift started two minutes ago,” Shinsou explained, one of his hands lifting in a wave as he exited the locker room, his heart hammering quickly, knowing just who he was going to need to track down tonight.

…

..

.

It was dark.

Shinsou’s eyes squinting as he hopped from one rooftop onto the other, his capturing device assisting him in clearing the dooming crevice. He wasn’t exactly the most physically threatening, and unfortunately, that also meant he wasn’t exactly the greatest at parkour type movements, although he was getting better. Maybe had he started to ask for earlier shifts, where he would be out when the sun was, he could get better faster.

It was tricky with only the moonlight to guide him, but that’s what he could get at the moment.

As he scuffled through the gravel rooftop of one of the abandoned buildings, Shinsou found himself squinting at the figure in the distance. The one perched near what Kaminari oh so fondly refers to as Gramps convenience store.

He studied the form of the picture still person, noticing if it wasn’t for the slight wind through your hair and twisting capturing weapon around your neck, he would think you’re a statue. But he knows better now, he’s known better for quite some time now. 

“What’re you doing out here, y/l/n?” Shinsou found himself speaking the moment he stepped behind you, hands shoving into his pant pockets.

You didn’t move, nor did you respond, your body still completely still while peering down at the empty world fascinated on who knows what.

“Y/l—”

“How can I help ya, Mindjack-senpai?” you interrupted him, your gaze still not removed from the world below the building. “I hear it’s supposed to be a busy night tonight.”

Shinsou paused, his brows scrunching at your words.

It was plain to see to Heroes that you were a villain, you did what you wanted when you wanted, whatever the price, but if there was one thing Shinsou had learned with this rather weird cat and mouse game the two of you played time and time again was that you didn’t lie. 

What was happening?

“A busy night?” Shinsou questioned, his quirk still unactivated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to Brainwash an answer out of you anyways. “Where at?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Hero?” you teased slowly, and Shinsou had to deny the way that the way your head finally turned to lock eyes with his made his stomach clench.

It meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You know what happens when you slight me,” Shinsou couldn’t help but warn, the bandages on his neck rising under his command. But your eyes blinked slowly, lips spreading into a lazy, cunning smile.

“And you know what happens when you underestimate me,” you returned, fingers gliding against his old weapon — yes, old weapon. Just two months ago, just before your last arrest, you had viciously stolen it from him, your foot crushing his vocal cords while you managed to pry the weapon from his broken fingers. “Anyways, Mindjack-senpai, it’s a bit unethical of you, a hero, to be threatening me in such a way! I’m just a poor girl waiting for the love of my life to show up.”

“And have they?”

You blink, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you nod, “I got him right where I want him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shinsou snapped despite the lick of warmth against his chest and cheeks. “I’ll have you arrested again.”

Now, this has you turning from the edge of the building, you sit on the ledge of the building, fingers supporting your head as you stare at him without fear. Shinsou really fucking hated how fast you riled him up.

“Arrested? But Mr. Mindjack-senpai, didn’t you know?” you ask, the taunt evident in your voice, the twinkle in your eye devastatingly bright. “I’m a changed woman. I’m what you call a hero now. You wouldn’t arrest an innocent heroine, could you?”

“You’re hardly innocent,” Shinsou responded back smoothly and deftly, not at all yet entirely impressed by you. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

He blamed his deep impressions of you on the stupid black and purple attire you wore.

“Well, you know as well as I do that I just got out, but I feel like except what happened two days ago, I’ve really changed,” you emptily promise, pushing off the ledge, sauntering closer to Shinsou until he felt the tip of your nose brush against his. “I’ll make sure to think about you whenever… bad feelings come up.”

He prays you don’t see the scarlet flush on his face.

You’re already back at the ledge when he blinks, and he watches you raise two fingers to your temple in a mock salute as you wink at him.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but two blocks east, seven blocks south from the heart of Tokyo is where you’ll find trouble,” you inform him, dropping the salute as you turn to run.

But Shinsou wants his damn weapon back.

“Y/l/n, wait!”

“Yes—?”

You froze at the ledge, your eyes spacing out, and Shinsou sighed, moving to collect his weapon from you until you suddenly dove off the building, a burst of cheerful laughter on your tongue.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya!” you screamed from the next building over, your fingers threading through the alloy metal cloths. “I got some earbuds just for when you’re around! They make your voice into electrical signals just for me! So guess what?!”

Shinsou didn’t need you to complete that sentence in order for him to realize what you had just gotten your hands onto.

As long as you wore those, his quirk was useless against you.

Despite knowing that a villain held the key to his demise as a hero, he chuckled, running a hand through his short purple hair.

You really were something.

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Shinsou never took himself as an especially suspicious person.

He figured he had days where he was suspicious of some people the correct amount, especially when they had the most painted on emotions he’s ever seen. Some days he was overly trusting and blamed tight smiles on something acute to nerves. Without meaning to brag, he felt like he was healthily suspicious of people, unlike others he knew who wouldn’t dare to interact with anyone new or would spill their darkest secret to anyone who would listen.

But there was something entirely, conspicuously suspicious with how you were behaving.

Winter had long passed, the long winter nights and graveyard shifts of endless freak encounters had worn a hole in his patience and boots. The spring season was beginning to end, and the warm days and nights of summer were setting on his skin.

Six full months of you, the first-ever villain he had fought as a Pro Hero, the first-ever villain to have openly flirted with him and to have him flirt back, being suspiciously… kind. 

Every shift of his, he would find you waiting for him on one of the regular rooftops. Every time he would check in with the database to make sure you weren’t wanted for some crime to find that you were innocent. Every time he would feel pissed off because you wore those earbuds that rendered his quirk useless and you somehow mastered the capturing weapon within weeks.

Now Shinsou didn’t pout, he really didn’t, but there were moments where you would appear from behind him, finger swiping down his spine as you effortlessly twirled around him, a stupid sly grin on your face as you held onto the collar of his hero costume.

“Don’t pout, Mindjack-senpai, I’m here now,” you’d purr each and every time.

He loved the dangerous purr to your voice, the way your eyes hooded over, peering at him through your eyelashes, but he knew better. He had to know better. It wasn’t that villains were terrible people per se; he’d learned a lot of villains were just thoroughly sick of being mistreated (and he had wondered what would have happened if he had been denied from UA… would he be one?). He knew that for the most part, you were quite harmless, merely sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, living a life to your personal laws and rules.

It didn’t make you evil, merely dangerous.

But he had a job to do where even if it was justifiable to beat the ever-living shit out of your sister's abuser, nearly murdering him in rage and refusing to calm down when Shinsou had arrived on the scene with the use of his quirk didn't hold up well in court. It had started this long chain of events where you had absolutely hated him for a time as you were forced to stay overnight in a jailhouse. And many horrible days afterward where you performed what Shinsou had thought to be illegal actions only to find that no, they weren’t. As a matter of fact, entirely legal because Japan had yet to update their codes. 

Long after he had discovered this, you had returned to actual crime, your physical ability growing by leaps and bounds as he ran after you after catching you doing something dangerously illegal. Shinsou was a proud hero and was incredibly proud of the impact he made as a Pro Hero, but it was clear as day, even to him, that he often let you slip through his fingers. Like a child opening their cupped fingers and wondering why the water had left.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you that made him act this way, but he certainly didn’t wish to find out.

“So what’s on the schedule today, Mindjack-senpai?” you asked, appearing from the shadows of the rooftop, not scaring Shinsou in the slightest as this was always where you greeted him. “Are we saving the Prime Minister today? Stealing — I mean, protecting those stupid bedazzled eggs in the museum? Perhaps solving an unsolvable case?”

“Smooth,” Shinsou snarked, his tired purple eyes piercing through your bright ones that seemed undoubtedly excited. “How many times do I gotta tell you that there aren't that many actual case assignments? Besides, most team-ups happen in the morning when I’m asleep.”

“Being a hero is so boring!”

“You’re not a hero.”

“Am too!” Shinsou snorted, turning on his heel and began walking away, listening to your footsteps running after him to keep up with his long paces as you cried that out.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Shinsou stopped, his eyebrow raised in slight forced annoyance but much more amusement, when you spun in front of him, hand on his chest, cheeks puffing with your heavy breathes.

“Look!”

Tilting his head back, Shinsou grunted when your phone was shoved in his face. “What is this?”

“Hero Commission Regulation Handbook, page fifty-four, Article three, sub-article twenty-three,” you chirped, turning your phone back to yourself so that you may read it correctly. “It states that besides attending hero school like a bunch of nerds, civilians have the option of securing internships with approved Pro Heroes and work side by side with them for six months! Once finishing their internships, said Pro Hero must simply sign my licensing papers and bam, a hero I’ll become.”

“And which sniveling hero did you get to do your dirty work?” Shinsou scoffed, not at all buying the notion that you of all people wanted to become a hero. A vigilante at best, an anti-hero much more realistically, and staying a villain as default.

“You,” you smirked, winking at him before turning on your heel and sauntering off, knowing full well the patterns of his routines. 

Shinsou sighed, but he let a familiar smirk fall on his face as he walked after you, enjoying the way you glanced back at him with your wide clear eyes. But that suspicious, gut feeling didn’t leave his core, no matter how sweet and beautiful he found your smile. 

“So, Mindjack-senpai, who are we apprehending today?”

“You want me to sign your paper this entire time, and you’ve been addressing me as senpai?” Shinsou commented, his weapon shooting off to a nearby building, snapping straight in his hand when it was ready. “Where are your manners? It’s Mindjack-sensei to you.”

He didn’t wait for your response, choosing to swing off the ledge of the building with no hesitation, but a part of him wished he could have heard the sound of your laugh he only seemed to hear through the streaming, far away air.

…

… 

While usually, Shinsou didn’t have actual cases during his patrols, this job, after all, was much more spontaneous than anything else, today was different.

Today was different altogether, really.

First off, he showed up to work when the sun was still up just to get his meeting intel down in time for him to be out on the scene in time. He had nodded plenty, silently taking in Creati’s information on the drug cartel they wanted to in the next few weeks take down for numerous charges. The creation of dangerous, illegal drugs, prostitution rings, robbery, and murder being the main ones. It was some bigger stuff, so they needed all the evidence they could get.

Shinsou stared at the faces of the more prominent names of the cartel, studying every crook, nanny, and scar on their faces as Creati simply ended with where they focused down onto where their drug creating facilities were at, but still needed confirmation. “They’re pretty difficult to get to without knowing where they are,” Creati admitted, handing him a GPS. “You’ll need this.” He would be the first to start evidence gathering; after all, his old classmates would begin tomorrow.

So he had left, going to the first hideout and finding out it was completely empty. Not a single spec of evidence remaining, not a secret door or trap to get him to where they could be hiding from sight.

So was the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Something sat weirdly in his stomach as he began walking towards the final one on his list, and he froze when he saw lights shifting and moving from around the building. Quickly, Shinsou hopped to higher grounds, his phone already out, ready to take pictures. He lay low to the rooftop, practically army crawling to get to place to place as he neared the windows on the rooftop, allowing him to peer in onto the building he was scouting to find precisely what he needed. 

The entire building was a drug production spot.

His eyes scanned the building floor, singling out ten of the twelve main heads on the cartel, and he smirked. Perfect.

“Whatcha doing here, Mindjack-sensei?” your voice whispered millimeters from his ear, and Shinsou bit his tongue harshly to keep the instinctual scream from ruining his covert operation.

He snapped his head over to you, eyes slightly furious, eyebrows knitted tightly as he looked to see you leaning toward him. You were in a different outfit today, completely black, drowning you out in the night. He blinked; even the capturing weapon he had still been unsuccessful in stealing back from you was pitch black.

“What’re you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” you asked, straightening up and twirling for him as if you were wearing a magnificent dress and not personally created ‘hero’ clothes. “Ah, I hoped you would! Sorry, I had to get rid of the purple. I just felt it made me look too cute, right? I know I can’t have villains falling for me like you had me falling for you!”

Shinsou did not blush, no he didn’t, “shut up.”

“So what are we looking for today?” you asked, pressing down onto the floor beside him. Your arm touching his as pressed your face towards the glass. “Is this a stakeout?”

“Less stakeout, more information gathering,” Shinsou grumbled, typing some needed notes onto a file on his phone. It seemed to him that there was plenty here for the drug making charges. “We’re trying to get their bigger names caught in the action.”

“Oh, I thought heroes just burst in whenever they wanted, that’s what they do in the movies. Plus, you always threaten me with being arrested with no evidence,” you giggle, shifting closer to the glass, smile wide on your face.

“After saying that, say goodbye to me signing off that paper of yours,” he grunted, slipping his phone back into his pocket while you scrunch your nose at him. Shinsou couldn’t help but stare at you as the palms of your hands supported your chin as you hummed some song he couldn’t recognize.

“Ne, Mindjack-sensei, did you get the big boss?” you asked, your finger pressed against the cold glass, and Shinsou frowned, returning his head to the glass.

Right where you were pointing was, in fact, the head of the cartel. He was horrendously scrawny, holding no sense of fear or malice, and Shinsou wondered what his quirk could be that he was in charge of an operation such as this one.

“Oh, his right-hand man came too! All twelve are here!” you cheered quietly as Shinsou took documentation on his phone, and that suspicious rock in his stomach finally made sense at this second.

“Y/l/n?” he asked, head turning toward yours, tired eyes glinting with emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

“Mhm?”

“How did you know there were twelve main members, and how’d they look like?”

Silence.

Shinsou’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his canines glinting as he locked eyes with yours that were wide with shock and disbelief.

“How’d you find me—?”

He watched you lean away from the glass, fingers shooting to your earpieces. And with the inkling of suspicion sprinting through his veins, the purple-haired hero still found that he moved too slow. 

BOOM!!!!

He blacked out when his body flew with the explosion.

...

..

.

Ringing.

Pain.

Numbness.

Shinsou could only hear ringing in his ears as soot and ashes fell down from the sky, falling on his body, coating his gaping, open mouth as he tried to breathe, trying to calm himself. Was he bleeding? Was he dying? Where was the explosion from? Were you okay?

His eyes blinked heavily, altogether so irregularly that Shinsou couldn’t help but feel he was out of his body when you reappeared in his sight. Your hand pressing to his cheeks sympathetically, eyes truly hurt as you shook your head, hand grabbing into his bloodied pocket to take his phone.

“I’m sorry,” your voice seemingly whispered, just loud enough for him to hear you through the ringing from the explosion. “You weren’t supposed to be here, Mindjack… these are the scumbags that hurt my friends and family. I couldn’t let them live. Plus… I didn't have a choice, they were competition.”

He spluttered, the warm goo of blood and saliva choking out of his mouth as he convulsed on the ground, his eyes watching as you went.

“See you later, hero.”

He tried to yell at you to come back, that you were a coward, a fucking menace that he would destroy the next time he saw you, but his voice failed to work. Nothing was working except his pain receptors, his heart that kept shoving blood into his lungs that he kept spitting up, but he saw flashing white and red lights as unconsciousness sank its jagged teeth into his neck.

An ambulance was here.

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It took four months to recover from the accident.

His hearing had been fucked up. Not even medical quirks had managed to save his hearing entirely. But hey, it did get him the chance for Bakugou Katsuki to come to his room, called him pathetic, and showed off his own hearing aid that he had needed since his quirk had damaged his own hearing. Not to mention that for the past four months, he had been teaching him sign language just in case.

He wasn’t alone, it seemed.

But it was four months, and he had recovered fully.

The hearing aid he required in his left ear still made his ear ache in pain, and he found that he liked it much better shoved in the back of a draw than anything else. But he knew it was dangerous to be a hero without his full hearing. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou’s trial through this all and the help of Hatsume Mei to create a more appropriate hearing aid for heroes, he wasn’t sure if he would still be here — working that is.

But today — or well, night — was a new day, and he was going to push ahead. He could do this, no sweat, no problem. 

Well, that was until an all too familiar figure sat perched on a ledge on his usual route, legs swaying in the air as uncontrolled rage bubbled in his chest. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but a large part of Shinsou was embarrassed to have been caught up in all of this because of you. He had trusted you above all else even when his instincts yelled at him not to because he knew what it was like to be painted as a villain, and he had hoped by letting you in more, you would have changed. He thought you had.

But you hadn’t.

Not one bit.

…

…

You sat at the edge of the building, already having heard the loud crunch of Shinsou’s shoes against the gravel rooftop, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t know how to face him, how to tell him that you were both sorry that he got caught up in your schemes, but that you weren’t sorry for what you had done. Those bastards had it coming.

“Give me one good reason not to push you off the building,” Shinsou growled, probably much louder than he intended. 

Instead of answering, you shrugged.

You hadn’t brought the earbuds that would keep you from being immune to his quirk, and you slightly feared what would happen if you gave in to the whispers of his words. Would you blackout in a daze before coming back to normal only when placed in the prefectures jail? Would he actually attempt to kill you? You had no idea.

But you turned on the ledge, looking at his tired purple eyes that shook with his anger and betrayal. You had done a number on him.

“So, now you can’t seem to respond back to me?” he laughed bitterly, his teeth bared into a way too fierce smile, one that made your heart thump and sent a shiver down your spine. “What game do you think you’re playing?”

You still didn’t answer as you planted your feet back onto the rooftop and stood up, watching as his binds flared to life. Dancing and weaving around him in a dangerous coil of fabric, like a frilled dragon lion lizard extending its skin in a warning.

“Should’ve taken you down with that first time I found you,” he spat, his eyes narrowing as you took steps toward him, and the weapon seemed to snap at you. “Did your sister pull the same bullshit on him as you did me? Is that why he became ‘psycho?’”

Now that one nearly got the response out of you as fury thrummed through your veins as you were suddenly nose to nose. You couldn’t help it, but you knew there was no point in explaining your reasoning for doing what you did because he would never understand; he couldn’t. 

So as his eyes flashed dangerously from your eyes, his breathing coming down harshly against your upper lip, the hatred he had for you (that was probably reignited from a year ago and make it double) simmered between the air between you and him. You couldn’t resist.

Your lips pressed against his in a simmering hot kiss. 

Shinsou shoved you away, as quickly as you had pressed your mouth against his, but you were back on him before he could utter a word. Only that this time, he kissed you back with scalding, burning heat. 

You never really knew how much smaller you were to Shinsou until you were on the tips of your toes to kiss him, his hands practically burning you as they gripped onto your hips, pulling you so close there was hardly any room to breathe. His kiss was hateful, spiteful, and full of unspoken passion the two of you had never addressed during the period that was good. It had been so good, but he was a hero, he would never understand.

His teeth bit harshly onto your lower lip, and you hissed, your fingers burying into his hair and tugging at the root of his hair as his tongue came and pressed dangerously against yours. His tongue was hot against yours, he was undoubtedly much more hotblooded than you were, and with his emotions heightened, he exhausted what. 

Tongues clashed against one another, but it wasn’t even a battle of dominance; it was a battle to find who surrendered. There was to be no joy or excitement for whichever tongue prevailed, just the burning of the tears falling down your face and the acid taste on your tongue as he suckled on your pink muscle.

Your eyes were partially opened, watching his angry yet blank purple eyes meet yours, neither one of you allowing yourself to give in to the pure elation and sensation this was bringing. No, he wouldn’t allow it, and you wouldn’t have it.

The stubble of his beard scratched into your skin repetitively, feeling like sandpaper against your own skin as the kiss deepened, consuming the both of you on a whole new level as your crotches ground roughly against one another. Hisses and groans couldn’t stop pouring from your collective mouths, both of you hating yet craving more from this all. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he spoke to you like this, would he do something to you while you were like this? So when his massive, thick hand made contact with the underneath of your ass, scooping up your leg so that your covered cunt could now correctly grind into his hard cock, the weapon you stole from him a year ago bound around his neck, choking him, collaring him.

“I like my bitches chained up,” you mocked against his lips, but somehow, someway, Shinsou liked it. 

You groaned loudly at the way Shinsou gasped for air against the makeshift collar, your grin widening as you nodded your head, pulling away from his mouth as the grin became a smirk. “Didn’t think you wanted to talk when we were fucking?” you lied, teeth biting onto his lower lip and sucking on it as your hips oh so artfully bucked against his covered cock. You could feel the growing slick in your panties beginning to feel uncomfortable with the lack of proper friction, and your head lolled backward when he slammed your core against his, devilishly grinding against you.

He picked up your other leg and dropped the both of you to the floor, the uncomfortable gravel stone floor digging painfully into your back, but you could care less. Shinsou’s mouth was already back on your body, scratchy, scraping kisses placed on your neck, making you moan out, legs wrapping around his waist as you cant your hips upward to grind into him.

Unamused with the lack of his hands on your body, you took his arms that were planted at your shoulders and pressed his heavy palms on your breasts, avoiding the pissed look in his eyes as his teeth marked you painfully. You actually shrieked in pain. The feeling of his teeth tearing through the skin on your neck, while his finger kneaded and pulled at your covered breasts. It was unashamedly painful with how he played with your breasts. He seemed to grow happier with every sound of distress you made.

Fisting your hands back into his hair, you pulled him back to your face level, your eyes fluttered at the way his clothed erection carded perfectly between your sopping wet cunt. Blood stained his mouth, making his teeth slightly orange in tint, and you clicked your teeth in partial anger and pain as your neck throbbed. Slamming your lips back against his, you almost gagged at the taste of iron that soared through your senses as his tongue wasted no time to seek yours out. His lips and fingers were so ardent, manipulating your every body movement, cry of pain and pleasure as thrumming hatred for the stupid, stubborn hero above you still coursed through your veins. 

Sweat began to form at your temples as your lips gilded against his, your hips snapping up to meet his grinding hips, and an airy response keened from his mouth as you moaned loudly.

His incessantly grinding hips were making your legs shake with stimulation, your whines and whimpers for more opening like a flood gate as you finally stuck a hand between the two of you and shoved his pants to his knees. You dropped your legs from around his waist, and he assisted you in ripping your pants off from one side of your body, the fabric still clinging to your right leg, but you could hardly care. All you wanted was for him to plant his cock into your blazing heat and to fuck you, to claim you here on this rooftop that started and would end it all. You wanted him, his cock, and him.

“Fuck me,” you begged into his ear, and his back shivered with your words. You hooked your leg around his waist, carding his hot, throbbing cock against your soaked pussy, as you rolled your hips. “I want you to fuck me, fill me with his cock, and cum deep within me to show me just how much you fucking hate me.”

You cried out when his hand shot down to his cock to line it up with your squeezing, dripping hole, his mouth once again covering yours, kissing you aggressively, fueled with an emotion you could taste as bitter hatred. Your legs trembled as the tip of his cock continued to press against your entrance, not entirely entering it, not giving you friction to send you into a euphoric end. You could help the snarl that passed through your lips, your eyes angry beyond repair as the head of his cock continued to deny you. Whenever you tried to grind down, to force your walls around his cock, he went down with you, he wouldn’t allow it, and your cunt clenched against nothing as he gave you nothing.

Shinsou wheezes out a bitter chuckle, his hand raising his cock from between your soaked folds to slap his heavy, thick, and long length against your throbbing clit.

Hatred and desire soak your body, and you needily rub your clit against his cock, your hands shoving up his shirt to feel the scarred pattern of his back as you give him new ones that were produced by your nails.

“Don’t tease me, hero,” you snapped, fingers tearing into his skin to draw blood. “You fuck my pussy so good, right now, or I promise next time you’ll go out with that bomb too.”

That seems to do what you want because before those words settle on your nerves. His cock penetrates deeply within you, bottoming out entirely as your head thrashes back against the gravel of the floor, throbbing pain from that entirely ignorable because fuck, his cock was stretching you out. He was so thick, so fucking veiny that you could feel the pulsating veins on his cock pressing against your puffy, sensitive walls. You scream his name as the pleasure-filled pain pulses within you, your hips thrashing, wildly bucking in your attempt to calm from the sudden placement of his cock.

“Why are you so fucking big?” you splutter, a whining pitch to your voice as you clawed at his back, trying to separate your joined bodies but also trying to get even closer. “It’s so big, my walls feel like! Oh fuck, Shinsou, it feels like Imma split in two!”

It seems that Shinsou holds some great pride over those worse, because he growled deep in his chest, and his hips begin to fuck into you. It sends your hands to the base of his neck, clutching onto his skin with hope as you scream in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet squelches fill the air and tickle your ears. The head of his cock keeps dragging against your spongy wall, brushing over your g-spot over and over again as if he knew where it was, as if it was common knowledge as he fucked you further into the gravel floor. It didn’t even hurt anymore, your skin singing with joy as his cock fucked you stupid.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” you whined, and Shiinsou made an approving noise. 

He grunts as your cunt flutters and clenches around him, his balls hitting your skin in possibly bruising force and speed. And his pelvis crashing against your stings ever so slightly, but has you begging for more, sobbing for more.

Your vulgar words and moans are unstoppable at this point, your legs and thighs trembling as they are still circled around him, sometimes assisting you in coming up to meet his driving, drilling hips. You whine into his ear, your mouth pressing blind and sloppy kisses against his slick with sweat neck.

It’s when both his hands bring your hips up to him, his cock finally bottoming out entirely within you, does the most primal moan rip through your mouth. You convulse underneath him, trying to move as the head of his cock buries against your cervix, poking your womb with power and speed that has you swearing behind the blackness of your vision that this sensation brings. You can see the entire galaxy, the world lighting up when his cock leaves the thin wall, and you gasp, shocked that the heat and slick of your cunt is still going. You tremble underneath him, wordless cries pittering from your mouth while he bites on your earlobe.

You soon readjust to the numbing pleasure, the bruising pleasure, and pain that comes with his cock slamming against your cervix. The way that he thrusts up into you, stretching out your walls far more than you were ever used to.

 A pathetic cry escaped your lips when he rolled over so that you were now on top, your body bouncing as soon as it could against him. You keened and whined, feeling the top of his cock licking your cervix, and you spluttered.

“Fuck this angle, this angle and your cock!?” you stammered, fists curling into his collar as you rode him, his hips snapping up into yours with that same animalistic power and speed.

His pace is irreplicable, near maddening with every successive thrust of his hips. Each snap, each wet noise sends you close to the edge, your inner walls clenching and milking his length with greater power as your senseless cries fill the night sky. His grip on your waist will leave purple bruises later tonight, you just know it, but the fire in his eyes as you lock fazes is enough for you to be okay with it.

Its intensifying, deepening, fire erupting in your core as your cunt throbs.

Sweat, tears, and spit fall from your face, and Shinsou surges upward, kissing you with everything he can. It's a maddening escape of lust and need and hatred being exchanged, saliva spreading between you, covering your hot faces with slimy coldness, But you keep him close, your mouth drinking him in more, begging for more as your tongue sinks into his mouth.

His fingers rake down from your back. Past the curve of your clapping ass and onto your powerful thighs that helped in your action to claim his cock. Your joined mouths, both parted in silent screams, wordless begs for more, branding curses that spoke of his hatred for you, your hatred of his job.

Fuck this, fuck that, fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

You held each other impossibly close. Despite the barriers of shirts and armor separating your chests, you swore you could feel his hammering heart flush against your chest. A steady, consistent beat reminding you that this was a one-time thing, that this was yet another bomb with only one explosion to it.

“S-Shit!” his voice finally managed to escape from the makeshift collar, and you nearly sobbed at the sound of his gravelly, husky voice. 

You still hated him, you really hated him and his stupid deep voice. 

Your back arches as the control you had on collar suddenly slacks, as if you had never had it there, and his own noises of sex, of hatred, of pleasure fill and echo in your ear. You can hear him mumbling something in your ear, your head pathetically nodding, tears streaming down your face only you can’t seem to figure out why. The throbbing pressure in your stomach made you near uncomfortable as his cock sank and disappeared from your cunt, your walls' vice grip becoming tighter and tighter and tighter.

There’s vigor, untapped lust, pent up frustration as he rolls you both around, pushing you back into the gravel and dives his length into your wet, loud cunt without mercy. You were overworked, over thrilled, the pressure of your coming orgasm snapping into your every fiber of your being, your toes curling, and drool seeping from your lips as he growled. 

The noise seemed to resonate deeply in your own chest, and he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, pathetic, needy noises escaping your lips as you stared into his angry, lusting eyes. And as he buried his teeth into your bottom lip, his nose scrunched in an aggressive snarl, he spoke with finality:

“Cum.”

You weren’t sure if you had suddenly fallen under the persuasion of his brainwash, or he just knew you were overfilled with pressure, but you went rigid in his hold, your eyes rolling backward, and your vision going white. You came in powerful waves, electric stimming vibrating through your entire body as your spongey, wet walls clamped around him, and Shinsou came in a guttural groan. His hips snapping into your with five last, robust, resounding thrusts until your trembling abdomen and thighs were stilled with his crushing weight.

 You could feel his hot cum pulsing and thriving deep within your cunt, and you panted heavily, your body feeling alarmingly weak as the both of you lay there. A puddle of cum, tears, drool, pain, longing, and hatred.

He lays on top of you, his chest heaving with his breathing, and you felt frozen beneath him. The pain of the gravel roof no longer adds to your pleasure but rather is stabbing you in pain. It’s quiet as you lay there.

He’s quiet.

You’re silent.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting the silence that you hated.

“I can’t tell you,” you admit, voice thick and heavy with untold emotions.

“You know I’ll have to arrest you, right?” Shinsou spoke softly, but he didn’t move to capture you, and you didn’t move to run.

What was the point? It wasn’t as if there was ever a fighting chance for the both of you. The world would have never allowed it, so why bother?

“I don’t think you hate me enough to arrest me right now, sleep on it,” you softly chided, your eyes staring up into the universe, begging to know why they made you a freak?

“Not right now, you spent all my energy,” Shinsou admits, rising up from you, his soft cock removing itself from your humming core, and you looked away to keep from staring. “I really hate you though, y/l/n. I don’t like liars or pretenders.”

“Convince your cock of it next time,” you couldn’t help but fire back, your upper lip curling in your anger and hatred at the sound of his zipping pants.

Silence and a beat follow your words.

“I’ll tell you this now,” Shinsou spoke, turning on his heels, his tone was cold, distant, like a stranger who could care less for you. “Don’t let me see you again. If I do, I promise you, I’ll send your ass to Tartarus. We’re no longer on good terms.”

Anger, hatred, and fury course through your veins as you stand up, legs weak, but spirit wounded as you pull up your pants, uncaring of his cum leaking from your slit. 

“Don’t you dare show your face to me again! Next time I won’t save your fucking ass when I blow something up!” you snapped, the tears running down your face uncontrollable although your voice never gave it away. It didn’t have to though, he turned around one last time, and his eyes met yours, and the two of you glared and simmered. 

But, he didn’t bother to respond back as he disappeared into the shadows of the night sky.

You collapsed onto your knees, exhaustion finally catching up with you, and you realized his capturing weapon you had stolen was finally taken back by the rightful owner. You fell forward, the tears and silent sobs muffled by your bitten lip as you stayed on that rooftop for an hour. Crying like a freak.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure if you ever hated him.

...

..

.

Incoming Text…

Incoming Text…

New Text Message Received!

From Unknown:      ↳ Good job, y/n. Phase one is complete.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Ep 17 part one

(Masterpost of all the rewatches) (Canary’s pinboard of original content)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Inaccessible

Wei Wuxian hides in a boat among the lotuses next to a pier in Lotus Pier, the second-most-literally-named home in the show, after The Burial Mounds. This pier has a railing that goes all the way around it, without any ladders or anything. Not to be ADA on main but this means if you can't Jedi jump, you're fucked.  

Hefeng Liquor

While Wei Wuxian waits and tries, not very successfully, to keep his shit together, he hears the guards talking about the local booze that they're going to drink at their murder victory party. We learn, in a desaturated flashback (that OP has done her best to resaturate), that this is lotus-infused wine invented by Wei Wuxian during happier days. 

He kicks the flashback off with his favorite activity, Unnecessarily Erotic Beverage Drinking. (gifset) I’ve slowed this gif down so we can all appreciate the unnecessariness. The way his hand caresses that leaf OMG

Hopefully he is not drinking lake water out of that leaf. Side note: How is it possible that Xiao Zhan doesn't have a drinking water endorsement deal? I had to resort to Zhu Yilong's brand of water for this gag. I figure if it's good enough to pour directly onto a lightning burn like they do in The Lost Tomb Reboot, it's good enough for a leaf hummer chastely drinking out of a leaf

(more behind the cut!)

In his memory, Jiang Cheng tells him to stop fucking around and come help with the basket of lotus pods. Wei Wuxian responds by grabbing one for himself and then sitting his ass down and not helping. Cause he’s a motherfucking P.I.M.P.

Emotional Rescue

Wen Ning arrives on the pier with Jiang Chang, to Wei Wuxian's extreme relief. Look how much emotion Xiao Zhan is able to convey even with half of his face hidden, my lord.

Wen Ning carries Jiang Cheng on his back, in an echo of other significant piggyback rides in Wei Wuxian's life.  

Wei Wuxian's relief is at war with his fear, seeing his brother in such bad shape. Remember, these are cultivators, who heal quickly and mostly don't get their asses beat this hard. The only time Wei Wuxian has been comatose was after the Xuanwu cave, and that was probably because of his prolonged contact with resentful energy/Yin iron.

Hibernating Zidian

Wen Ning gets ready for his first, but not his last, boat ride with an unconscious Yunmeng brother in it. He tells Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng is pretty fucked up but isn't dead.

Then he gives Zidian to him. Before we talk about Zidian, let's talk about BAMF Wen Ning.  Wen Ning is an awkward goofball. He’s also insanely competent at just about everything--wine-drugging, dude-smuggling, corpse retrieval, dog acupuncture, drug pushing. As well as shooting rocks out of the air and, later, beating zombie ass, and resisting mind control. . 

This is the foundation of their friendship; it’s not actually about Wei Wuxian being nice to the weird kid. He initially sought Wen Ning out for the same reason he sought out weird kid Lan Wangji--his martial skill. He accepts his weirdness and is protective of him because of his missing-spirit problem, but he did not befriend him out of altruism.

Wei Wuxian is so forgiving that he can smile fondly when looking at the weapon that whipped the shit out of him a couple of days ago.

Wei Wuxian puts Zidian down right next to Jiang Cheng's hand and...nothing happens. It doesn't recognize him or spark to life. This didn't seem meaningful when I watched it the first time, but rewatching...yikes. It KNOWS.

Wei Wuxian admits, with tears in his eyes, that there is nowhere safe for him to go with Jiang Cheng, and Wen Ning immediately offers care and shelter. Even though that is putting his own life at serious risk.

Life obligation is a common theme in CDramas. It’s often something a person chooses as a way of showing love. Guardian builds an eternal romance out of two people saving each other’s lives over and over.  But accepting the obligation is a choice (in fantasy dramas, if not in real life). Love and Redemption has a gloriously harsh sequence where a life is saved, and the save-ee cooly rejects the saver.

Every time Wen Ning saves Wei Wuxian, he cites that one time that Wei Wuxian saved him from the water demon. And Wei Wuxian cites this rescue right here when he throws everything away to save Wen Ning. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng doesn't acknowledge any debt to Wen Ning at all, only--grudgingly--to Wen Qing. And people are ok with that.

Basically all this is to say that I think Wen Ning leans into this life debt because he loves Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian leans into it because he loves him back. Non-romantically, I think...at least on Wei Wuxian’s part. YMMV.

They go to pick up Yanli from their Granny, telling her to go into hiding. She starts to cry, not knowing how she'll manage on her own. Wei Wuxian tells her that they will come back, as Wen Ning looks super unsure about that.

Of course Wei Wuxian can't know, at this point, whether they will come back. Wei Wuxian always wants to make everybody feel better, and sometimes you really can't make someone feel better except by lying. He compulsively says shit that he thinks people want to hear, almost as if he was beaten frequently and arbitrarily as a child.

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational boat ride industry, as he rows the Yunmeng trio through some amazingly beautiful scenery.

Core Melting Time

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier The Yunmeng Supervisory Office, Wen Chao is hung over, Wen Chao is angry, Yawn

For some reason, Wang Lingjiao has suddenly decided to talk to Wen Chao in the most cloying and annoying way possible. 

Also, the fact that she still addresses him as Gongzi when she is totally fucking him is kind of great. This is like those fics where Elizabeth Bennet calls Mr. Darcy "Mr. Darcy" even when they're married and hitting it. 

Wen Zhuliu demonstrates why he's called Core-Melting Hand, by punishing the wine guard. He's able to melt a guy's core by grabbing him by the throat, and also picks him up, Darth Vader style, for extra meltyness.

All that stuff I said last time about Wen Zhuliu feeling ambivalent about being a villian...yeah, he seems to have gotten that right out of his system. 

Chilling in Yiling

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational carriage ride industry.  Wei Wuxian, after presumably several hours in the cart, decides that now is a good time to get curious about where they are going. 

Here we start to see a new side of Wei Wuxian.  Before this he was carefree, other than specific worries about his friends. He confronted danger with lightness and humor, or with temporary fear, that he let go of once the danger passed. Now, after all the deaths and seeing Jiang Cheng so injured, he's twitchy, anxious, and angry.

Very, very angry.

When he realizes that Wen Ning has brought them to the Yiling supervisory office, he goes off, demanding to know whose home this was before the Wens took it and grabbing Wen Ning and shoving him into a decorative...decoration.  He thinks Wen Ning brought them here to harm them. 

I wouldn't have thought such a pretty dude could be so menacing, but holy crap.

The way he's confronting Wen Ning here is not his normal style. He's not trying to provoke a bigger fight like he usually does; he's not trying to create distance, the way Jiang Cheng does. He's very intimate, getting right in his face and maintaining eye contact. He trusted Wen Ning and feels personally betrayed.  

Shy little Wen Ning is remarkably calm when confronted like this. Wen Ning really isn’t afraid of anything, despite his general air of nervousness. (Full gifset of Angry WWX over here.) 

He calmly and kindly explains the situation. He doesn't appeal to Wei Wuxian's trust, saying "oh I would never;" he appeals to his logic, which gets through to him. 

Wen Qing comes out and the guards start banging on the door and Wei Wuxian flips out again, grabbing a sword and pointing it at Wen Qing as she decides what to do.  Wen Qing seems unruffled by Wei Wuxian's sword pointing, and we see her weighing up the situation.

She makes her decision, sending the guards away and deciding to help the fugitives, officially joining the Clear Conscience Club. She could probably get Wen Ning out of trouble by turning them in, but she opts to put personal loyalty and her belief in her own ideals ahead of her family's safety.

Wei Wuxian is not ok. He’s just not ok. He tries to act like it after they get settled in with Wen Qing, but he's not, and I think that plays into his next several choices. 

Next comes a whole sequence of Jiang Cheng being unconscious with pins in his head--ow--while Wei Wuxian twitchily tends to him. 

This sequence is kind of unfair to Jiang Yanli. What matters to the story here is Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship, so that’s the focus of these scenes. But really, there is no way Jiang Yanli would not be at Jiang Cheng's side unless she was literally unconscious herself. Let's assume Wen Qing stuck a needle in her to make her rest while she has a fever. Shippers should also feel free to assume that Wen Qing spent hours at her bedside, tenderly wiping her forehead and holding her hand as she recovered. In his sleep, while Wei Wuxian sits by his side, Jiang Cheng calls for his sister, mother, and father, but not for his brother. Ouch.  

Let's pause to appreciate Wei Wuxian's new outfit, which is the sort of getup most people in this society probably imagine Yiling Laozu wearing, rather than the low-key homespun stuff he actually spends his Yiling year in. This robe has fancy shoulders, shiny material, touches of Jiang purple, strange red hoody strings, and a fuckin' CAPE. He didn't bring any luggage with him from Lotus Pier, although he's still got his Yin Turtle Sword hidden in a bag of holding. So the most likely explanation is that Wen Ning hooked him up with this lewk. "Wei Wuxian is a nice person. He should have a magnificent cape."

Wen Wing and Wei Wuxian take a breather to stand on the porch and work out what their status is with each other, like a couple of fucking adults, which is amazing. Basically Wei Wuxian is ready to forget earlier Wen shenanigans, but is going to avenge Lotus Pier. 

Wen Qing isn't enthusiastic about that but doesn't argue, just asking, mostly rhetorically, if he plans to kill her too. He's uncomfortable considering that; the role of avenger isn't one that's comfortable for him, although he turns out to be extremely good at it. He does not, of course, plan to kill her too. In a few months, imprisoned in a Wen dungeon, she will be the only Wen left alive after Wei Wuxian 1.5(No-Gold Edition) and Chenqing come to visit.

Jiang Cheng finally wakes up, and the first thing he does is to test out his spiritual power by hitting Wei Wuxian as hard as he can. 

DUDE.

Look at Wei Wuxian's face, as he goes from happy, to shocked and hurt, to laughing it off. It's exactly like when Jiang Cheng shoved him in the Rock Lady temple. Has Wei Wuxian spent all of his years with Jiang Cheng going from affection, to hurt feelings, to pretending it's fine? God, I think he probably has.

This episode raises a question that will come up again later, but never be answered. That question is, what the fuck are these weird footies and why the fuck does Jiang Cheng wear them to bed?

Jiang Cheng reveals that his golden core is gone, that he can't cultivate any more, which means he can't avenge his parents or achieve any ambitions in life. Nobody has apparently given any thought to why Wen Zhuliu is called "Core-Melting Hand" before this, which is hilarious, frankly. If I fought with a guy called, for example, Brain-Eating Mouth, I think I would make certain assumptions about him and what he planned to do with my brain.

Something interesting is happening in this moment, because as he comes fully back to consciousness, Jiang Cheng pours out all of his trauma and horror to his brother, telling him about the core melting and practically wailing about his feelings over it all. And his brother understands, and ultimately finds a way to help him. What does Wei Wuxian do after his own trauma? Keeps it secret, so nobody finds a way to help him, although many people try to. So Jiang Cheng is, in this way at least...emotionally healthier than Wei Wuxian? That's unexpected.

Jiang Cheng is super upset and is mad at eternal scapegoat Wei Wuxian for saving him. Jiang Cheng would rather be dead than be a regular person. Whereas Wei Wuxian, faced with the same problem, is like, *shrug* I’ll adapt. These are both valid emotional responses to suddenly becoming disabled. Losing a golden core is definitely a disability, in this environment; it's not just about magic sword fights. Jiang Cheng's home is designed for people who can fly; Lan Wangji's home is designed for people who don't feel cold, and Wen Central is made of actual lava, for example. 

Jiang Cheng is already struggling with a lot of difficulties. He was raised by shitty parents, he's got anger management issues, he has a crushing weight of responsibility. And now he's also lived through the deaths of most of the people who matter to him. If sword cultivation is the one thing that gives him joy in life (ok one of two things, obviously fashion also gives him joy because he WORKS it), he can't reasonably be expected to rally when it's taken away.  

Oh, honey. Oh, baby boy. 

Wen Qing picks the worst moment to come in and tries to tend to Jiang Cheng, who starts off being devastated that the girl he likes is seeing the wreck he's become, and then moves along to helpless rage when he remembers that she's a Wen, and he screams at her to get out.  

Jiang Cheng is not able to put personal loyalty ahead of clan loyalty like Wei Wuxian is. Partly this is his nature, and partly it's his role as the lineal descendant of the clan leader. As a firstborn son of a gentry family, his destiny as clan leader is in his blood, and so is his responsibility to the clan. When Wei Wuxian praises Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for caring less about bloodlines than about shared ambition, he is speaking from the position of someone who's bloodline ain't shit. Jiang Cheng will never be able to share that perspective.

Next: More of this excruciating episode!

Writing prompt: The Day I Discovered I Could Melt Your Fucking Core, by Wen Zhuliu Drabble prompt: Why I Wear Socks to Bed, by Jiang Cheng

[crankynewt]

Chapter One - Losing Game

Another Love Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x Fem!Reader, Young!Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Song: Arcade - Duncan Laurence

Warnings: Tons of Angst, Major Character Deaths, Pregnancy(?), and I definitely altered the timeline!

Word Count: 1.76k

Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is pretty angsty and was based on this song (which has always given me massive Reggie vibes), and I HIGHLY recommend listening to it when reading this!

Perhaps your love was doomed from the start. Maybe you were just another Shakesperian tale of forbidden romance destined to conclude in nothing but suffering. He was your light despite the darkness that had encompassed him his entire life and although the war was over, the pain still remained. 

You had begged Regulus not to leave that night, tears blurring your vision as he explained that he had to be the one to destroy the horcrux. “There is no other way,” he had said, his voice shaky with the knowledge that this would likely be his end. You were young, too young, to be fighting this war. A battle that neither of you had any business being involved in the first place. Yet there you were, children who had grown up too quickly.

When he hadn’t returned the next morning, it hadn’t come as any surprise. You mourned the loss of your husband the minute he’d walked out that door. You weren’t vapid and neither was he, you were both well aware of what would happen in that cave. Whether or not Regulus succeeded, however, still remained to be seen. 

The isolation following the death of Regulus Black was something you brought upon yourself. You couldn’t stand seeing muggles continuing to lead their lives as if nothing had happened. Your world crumbled out from beneath you as the universe became a much darker place, so why haven’t they stopped? A person - your person - had died, how could people continue to lead their normal lives?  We were still at war, how could they not sense that something was horribly wrong?

The loneliness made you ill after a month, so sick that you were constantly emptying the contents of your stomach into your toilet as you lay on the cool tile. What prompted you to eventually seek out another were the two little lines on the plastic test. Before long you had apparated to Godric’s hollow, the crisp snow of December crunching under your feet as you made your way up the steps of a quaint looking house. It felt much more homey than the Grimmauld flat you’d been residing in, a slight comfort that what laid behind the door you knocked on may be just as welcoming.

The face that answered the door was kind, warm eyes and a welcoming smile framed by ginger locks. You never spoke to her during your years at Hogwarts due to the two years she had on you, but you knew the girl to be Lily Evans. Judging by the slight furrowing of her brows she had recognized you as well, probably unsure as to why Regulus Black’s wife had shown up on her doorstep seemingly out of nowhere.

“Uhm, is Sirius Black here by any chance?” You asked quietly, your gloved hands rubbing your arms as you fought off the evening’s chill. She need not answer as a pair of brown orbs peered at you from behind her.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)?” Sirius questioned, bitterness lacing his words as he took in your frail appearance. The elder Black did not think highly of his little brother - the Death Eater, or so he thought. Yet Regulus had relayed numerous stories from their childhood that revealed that in earlier years of their lives, the duo had been inseparable. You were just hoping that some of that affection still remained.

“Can we please talk? It’s about your brother.” You said, voice wavering as you shivered in the cold. Lily seemingly took notice of this and ushered you into the warmth of their home, closing the door behind you and leaving the in-laws to speak in the front entryway.

“If Regulus has something to say to me than the little shit can come tell me himself-”

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You asked incredulously. “Regulus died two months ago.”

Sirius had not been speechless many times in his life, yet there he stood with his head reeling, heart broken, and tears slowly welling in his eyes. At the end of the day, Regulus would always be his baby brother. And in that silence he sat and listened, taking in all of what had happened the past year. From Regulus deciding to turn on Voldemort to the fateful night destroying his horcrux, Sirius felt both pride and guilt building underneath the grief. Regulus had been a good person who gave his life doing the right thing, all in belief of the same values that had gotten himself disowned.

When you mentioned the pregnancy, Sirius once again found himself dumbstruck. But that shock was quickly replaced with a sense of duty, it was as if he had the opportunity to make up for his brother’s broken relationship. He would help you raise this baby, and he would make damn sure that they did not have the same broken childhood he had suffered.

Within the week, Sirius had moved back into 12 Grimmauld Place with you. The baby he was dedicating himself to had quickly become babies after finding out that not one, but two baby Blacks were on the way. He was at your side through every step of the pregnancy, and slowly but surely his friends made their way into your life as well. James was always there to put a smile on your face and Lily gave great advice as to dealing with the pregnancy as she had delivered Harry only weeks before you showed up. Remus was always there to offer chocolate and a good book while Peter always had a hot cup of tea ready for you.

Before long, Arcturus and Cassiopeia Black were welcomed into the world and the light in your life had been restored. They were both the spitting image of their father, seeming to have barely inherited any (Y/L/N) genes and only reminded you of their father with every coming day. Little Harry was thrilled to have playmates, and you had finally found your family. Although far from perfect, it was everything to you. But all good things must come to an end, and this state of grace was no different.

Halloween came and went. James, Lily, and Peter were gone, no, murdered. Sirius could not have done it, not to his family! The man you read about in the papers was not the same gentle soul who would sing the twins to sleep almost every evening. But regardless of what you thought of the man he was guilty in the eyes of the Ministry, and thus he was sent to Azkaban to suffer a fate worse than death. This loss rocked you once more, but this time you had the twins to look after, and you weren’t alone.

Remus had stepped right up to fill the shoes that Sirius had been filling for Regulus without hesitation. He was grieving the same losses as you and found solace in caring for little Archie and Cassie. You mourned together and healed together, and before long Remus became your other half. 

That friendship didn’t last long, however, as it eventually blossomed into something bigger, a love that you fought tooth and nail. Guilt consumed you as you felt yourself falling for the werewolf, not being able to shake the feeling that you were betraying Regulus as you fell deeper and deeper in love. 

Right around the second anniversary of his death was when you heard the first words pass through either of the twins’ lips. Archie squealed a high-pitched “dada” to Remus who had been helping you prepare breakfast, and your eyes met his equally glassy. While the man stuttered out a mix of apologies in fear of overstepping, you just embraced him and allowed him to hold you in the way nobody had for a long time. The toddlers had accepted him as their father, and you had denied the desire to love him for too long.

Six months later the two of you had married in a small ceremony of only Order members gathering to celebrate your love. You did, however, keep the last name ‘Black’ as an homage both to Regulus and Sirius’ roles in both of your lives. At that same celebration you also announced that a baby Lupin would be making their way into the world six months later. And alas, Theodore Lupin was born shortly after, and your little family was complete.

When it was finally time for Archie and Cassie to begin their future at Hogwarts, you couldn’t help but weep as they waved out the window of the Hogwarts Express, the siblings excited to start the next stage in their lives. Your husband wrapped an arm around you as he fought tears himself, meanwhile Teddy tugged onto your hand and questioned when he would get the chance to attend the school as well, already missing his big brother and sister. 

Remus and you had debated what house the twins would be sorted into, him adamant that they showed Gryffindor courage while you were certain that they would follow in your footsteps and be sorted into (Y/H). Your questions were answered the next morning as you received letters from two very excited Slytherins, taking after their father just as they had done in appearance and personality. You and Remus were proud nonetheless, but your husband was always saddened that they had never grown close to Harry. The divide between houses had seemingly grown even stronger since you two had attended and a friendship between the former friends hadn’t formed.

Two years later, the twins were approaching their third year as Teddy prepared to begin his magical schooling, and you began to ponder what your life would look like following their departure. You and your husband didn’t have the finances to travel and feared a life without the light of your children, and your questions were answered following a letter from Dumbledore himself. He offered the two of you teaching positions at Hogwarts, Defence Against the Dark Arts for Remus and Astronomy for yourself.

The two of you were ecstatic to spend the year with your children teaching, and walking side by side with the castle in view made you feel like a young girl again. A broken heart was all that was left, but Remus had been there to pick up your broken pieces and carry you home. But the wreckage of your life would not stay in ruins forever, as old friends and old loves remained closer than you had ever known and were about to rejoin your losing game.

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[fantasia-monogram]

Seven to twelve

♥️ Inseong x female reader (female anatomy); mentions of other SF9 members.

♥️  This is set in the As the clock strikes midnight universe, right after the epilogue! Read it before this one to get the context.

♥️ Smut (2.7k words); y/n is a professional Domme. Inseong is a bisexual sub. Mommy kink, degradation, spanking. Mentions of other BDSM practices.

♥️ Quality Department leader Kim Inseong has two secrets: first is his love for kink, second is a massive crush on a hot guy from HR department. Every Thursday, a trusted Domme helps him deal with frustration keeping those secrets causes.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

As you stepped back into the dungeon, you admired the transformation the room had undergone while you were taking a shower. Your previous customer made a huge mess (still, not even comparable to the mess you've made of him). You weren't the best at cleaning - you've had other talents that got you through life, after all - so you couldn't help but be amazed at the work the cleaning staff did in such a short time. 

Gone were the wet stains on the floor, and a soiled rug had been replaced for a fresh, fluffy one. All the scary torture equipment was hidden behind partition that would automatically slide out of the nearest wall by a press of a button. Antique leather chair was switched to a cozy looking armchair with blankets laid out on the floor next to it. The mood of the otherwise pretty sterile space was warmed up thanks to pink tinted lighting. 

All of those were a tell-tale sign who your next customer would be. 

You opened the wardrobe and took a black satin-and-lace bodysuit out of it. Your usual tight corset and leather boots wouldn't be needed this time. After you put the garment on, you opted for classic shiny stilettos, and topped the outfit with a short flowy dressing gown.

Just to be sure everything was in place, you checked yourself out in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door: the look was a blend of a retro housewife and a pin-up girl, complete with vintage style lingerie, aggressive eyeliner and red lipstick. Just as he liked it. 

There were only minutes left to the appointment, so you stroke a couple more poses to see the outfit in different angles. Perfect. You crossed the floor in a few elegant strides, to finally take a seat on the armchair in the middle of the spacious room. 

You had a pretty chill end of the workday ahead of you. 

A soft, somewhat cautious knock on the door broke the silence. 

"Come in." 

There he was, entering hesitantly, and closing the door behind him in an awkward manner. Inseong - you had no interest in your customers' last names, it was something only the administration ladies kept for business purposes - was a tall, very tall man with broad shoulders, lanky limbs and a bit of a tummy; his face, though, was that of a teenage boy, with barely any wrinkles and nervous expression. From what he told you, he was some kind of a supervisor or a boss or something in the field of corporate banking. At that moment, however, with his black bangs covering his forehead, he was stripped out of all titles he might have held as a higher up.

Honestly, he looked pretty cute in a set of pink fleece pajamas with a print consisting of little yellow chicks. 

He stood there, big eyes looking at you anxiously. You knew he was waiting for your sign - his wish was to experience your different moods, so you always kept him uncertain for a bit. It was more fun this way. 

That night you decided to play nice, at least for a while. You put on your warmest smile, spreading your arms. 

"Come on, baby, come to Mommy!" 

Inseong didn't need to be told twice. He rushed from his place. In seconds, he sank onto his knees inbetween your spread legs. You sneaked your arms around his neck and harshly pulled him forward, only to let him plant his face right into your breasts. 

Right, he had a thing for boobs. And muscular body types. That's why he chose to pay for your services in the first place.

He stayed like this for a good minute or two, occasionally rubbing his face against your soft flesh. You kept gently patting his head this entire time, until you decided that was enough and yanked him away by a handful of hair. 

"Why don't you tell Mommy about your day, baby?" You cooed, still gripping his hair tightly. His eyes, looking even bigger, were all fired up already.

He was so easy to figure out. 

"Y-yes… Yes, Mommy, I will," he stuttered. You let go of him, so he could sink back to the floor and lie his head on your lap. 

You got back to combing your fingers through his black strands, just to keep the variety.

"There is this guy in the company…" Inseong started, his voice a bit hushed. "In another department. He's dreamy. But I don't think he's interested in me. I don't think he's interested in guys at all. Or at least in pathetic guys like me." 

You uttered a soft mhmm to encourage him. Oh, so he came in to release the frustration. You already had a plan on how to help him with that, but that required waiting for a good moment to start the actual scene. 

"I can't believe anybody would be able to resist my pretty baby," you sighed, staying in character. 

"Thank you, Mommy…" Inseong replied shyly; he knew how to behave, or rather, how to reply to your compliments. "Actually, he spends so much time with that… I can never remember her name… She's a monster. Five and barely a half feet of a goddamn monster. I've heard they want to promote her to a leadership position soon. And she's so old! I can't believe Jaeyoonie is into older women."

Your eyes went wide at the name. No way. Glad Inseong couldn't see your face right now, you quickly calmed yourself down.

"Some guys are into milfs, you know that, right, baby?" You snorted. The things you had to do just to pace the appointment right… 

"She's not a milf! She's only a year or two older than me," Inseong explained. 

Come to think of it, you had no idea how old he was, and it was hard to tell by his looks only. 

"Anyway, I'm sure he's fucking her. Or that awkward skinny boy always hanging out with them." Inseong started to sound pissed off at this point. "Now that I think of it, he could easily take them both! And that would mean he's into older women and younger guys. I don't fit into any of those demographics. What a nightmare."

"You never know," you concluded, although internally you were getting more and more suspicious of Jaeyoonie's identity. 

"But there's more…" Inseong's voice broke at the last word. "There was a company party earlier that week… I drank too much and he saw me throwing up in the bathroom… I can't believe I embarrassed myself like that…" 

That was the moment you were waiting for. You stopped your caresses immediately. 

"Wait a minute. When was that party, exactly?" 

You could feel Inseong tense up under your hand. 

"Wednesday night…" He mumbled. 

"Is that why you rescheduled from Thursday to Friday?" 

You gripped his shirt at the back of his neck. 

"Yes, Mommy… I was so hungover… I wouldn't be able to play with you…" Inseong started stumbling over his words. You slid your hand up, grasped a fistful of hair and pulled it back so he could face you in a very uncomfortable position. 

The panic that flashed through Inseong's eyes gave you a solid rush of adrenaline.

"Good boys don't drink more than they could handle," you stated in a dead serious tone. 

"B-but…" Inseong stuttered, "I have low tolerance. And everyone else was drinking…" 

You tightened the grip on his hair, eliciting a strangled whine out of him. 

"Then you shouldn't have drunk at all, you silly baby." You slowly stood up from your seat, dragging Inseong up on his knees, followed by a litany of pained whimpers. "You made Mommy sad. I've been waiting for you the entire day."

"Oh, no… I'm so sorry, Mommy…" Inseong babbled, on the verge of crying. 

Not wanting to overdo it with his emotions just yet, you let go of his hair. He barely managed to feel relief, when you forcibly grabbed his chin.

"You're Mommy's favorite boy, but you need to learn your lesson" you concluded, staring straight into his panicked eyes. "What should I do with you now?" 

Inseong went silent, nothing but anticipation pictured on his face.

"Oh, you look way too eager," you said, loosening the grip on Inseong's chin, "Go to the corner, hands on the wall." 

"No, please!" Inseong cried out, although you knew very well he was just playing along. "Not the corner!" 

"Should I make you go there on your fours?" 

The guy mumbled a barely audible I'm sorry and obediently walked to the nearest wall. He took the usual position: propped on his hands, head hanging low, his broad back facing you - obviously, with the round butt presented to you in a shameful way. 

To keep him waiting, you first took in the sight, unable to hold back a smirk. You knew soon he would be absolutely wrecked, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment and shining with tears.

Saying you loved your job would be an understatement. 

Satisfied, you approached him, clicking of your heels the only sound in the room.

"I guess I have to spank you." 

Inseong's head jerked up a little. 

"I'm going to do this through your pants, though, and I'm going to use my bare hand only."

Inseong whined, head leaning down to previous position. 

"One more complaint and I'm going to shove a plug into your hole and make you stand here for the rest of the night." 

"I'm sorry!" He apologized frantically.

It's not like you haven't done that punishment before - you smiled at the memory of him coming untouched - but he really seemed desperate for some action this time. 

You came closer and hovered your hand over the perfect curve of Inseong's butt. He trembled under your touch. So, so desperate. 

"It's gonna be thirty, because that's how many hours I had to wait between the time you rescheduled to this meeting," you announced, causing Inseong to whimper quietly.

"Can I count?" He asked shyly. 

"You're dumb enough to not know your limits, I think counting to thirty would be too much to ask." 

With that, you landed the first slap. 

You observed Inseong for a couple seconds before continuing. He didn't make a sound, but his arms shook, long fingers folding into fists against the wall. You wondered if he would even last the whole session.

Your predictions would soon turn out to be true: he started whimpering after each hit as soon as you landed the third one. When you approached the tenth, the whimpers turned into screams. Once you passed the first half, all he could do was to moan uncontrollably, his legs shaking so much you were wondering how could he even stand up at that point. 

He didn't use the safe word, not even a single word of protest escaped his mouth either, so you knew it was fine to continue. He was so close to breaking. You absolutely adored the feeling of this moment approaching.

Finally, as you were raising your hand to slap Inseong's ass for the twenty seventh time, his knees gave up. The guy sunk down to the floor, still leaning against the wall. That turned out to be too much for him, though - ultimately, he slid his hands down, too.

You looked at him intently: Inseong, resting on all fours, kept trembling, his breathing so loud you could hear it from above. What an absolute mess. You were so amused you decided to end the session on a sweet note; however, your understanding of sweet was very... specific. 

"What's that, baby? You can't take it anymore?" You cooed, approaching closer. Your shin brushed against his buttcheek.

"Mommy… I…" Inseong panted, visibly struggling to form a complete sentence. "Can I touch myself? I can't take it anymore…" 

You almost laughed at how pained his tone was. Led by curiosity, you kneeled right behind him and leaned to take a close look: indeed, he was tenting in his cute pajama pants. Pathetic.

"Mmm, I'm not sure," you mused. "I don't think you've earned the permission to touch yourself."

"Mommy, please, it hurts," Inseong pleaded. He regained the ability to speak, but his voice started breaking. 

"I want you to come, but I also want you to embarrass yourself even more, since you couldn't take your spanking like a good boy," you wondered aloud in an amused tone, "What should I do?" 

You knew exactly, but hearing Inseong hold in his breath was worth every second of suspense. 

"Anything… I'll do anything…"

Hearing that, you came to conclusion you've had enough of toying with him. You reached to ruffle his hair. He leaned into your touch like a cat.

"Dumb kittens like you don't deserve to be touched directly." 

You lodged your thigh inbetween his legs, making him moan loudly at the sudden contact. He felt hard and heavy against your skin through the fabric separating you two. 

"Work for it, baby," you commanded. 

Inseong didn't need to be told twice. Disregarding all dignity, he started grinding against your thigh, his thrusts becoming more and more furious with time, until he couldn't hold back grunts escaping his mouth. You could feel his cock getting heavier; years of having to keep your urges to yourself during sessions gave you incredible self control, but Inseong's eagerness was turning you on so much you had to think of something quick. To ground yourself, you grabbed onto his hips, helping him grind even harder. 

He looked so broken, though - with his head low on the floor, resting on his arms, and his ass high up, relying on you completely in his need for pleasure. The sounds coming out of him weren't making it any easier for you either. 

It didn't take him long to finish at this pace. He stilled, arching his back, and came with a delicious, drawn-out moan. You quickly retracted your thigh, as you felt the wetness on his pants coming in contact with your skin. 

You let him come down from his high. Once he was fine enough to sit up, you pulled him into a back hug. He sighed happily, leaning against your cleavage. 

For good measure, you planted a couple kisses on his cheek and the side of his neck, leaving bright lipstick marks all over; he giggled uncontrollably at your affectionate gesture. 

"Thank you, Mommy," Inseong purred, a smile adorning his pretty lips, "My head is so clear now. I feel so much better." 

You wondered how he could sound so innocent with a huge wet spot in the front of his pants, not to mention he probably could barely sit with his butt burning from the spanking. 

"I hope my baby has a good weekend." You kissed his cheek once again, this time letting your lips linger on his skin for a little longer. 

Inseong's legs turned out to be still too wobbly to support him, so you helped him stand up and walked him to the door. 

"You're gonna be fine in the shower?" you asked, a bit worried considering his weak state. 

"I wish Mommy would join me, but I'm a big boy. I'll manage," he assured you. 

To be honest, you wished for the same thing, but business was business, and Inseong was just your customer - no matter how much fun you had ruining him each time.

"Thank you, really. I needed that so much," he said, dropping the character. "See you next week." 

You stared at the door for a while after he left, pretty sure there was something that slipped your mind during the meeting.

At last, it hit you: Jaeyoon, probably matching Inseong's ideal buff type, working a 9-to-5 job in some corporation. Could he be your old acquaintance from the BDSM community you met at a self defense course? You wondered for a while at the possibility.

Opening the wardrobe, you briefly rested your eyes on the clock. Seven to twelve. No time to muse over the past; you hoped those two would get together eventually, because if Inseong was the supervisor Jaeyoon couldn't shut up about all those years ago, then… well, they had some catching up to do. 

[miyalove]

white day | akaashi

—pairing: akaashi x gn!reader

—warnings: swearing (that’s about it), unedited*

—synopsis: 2.6k | white day (noun)– a holiday celebrated in mostly asain countries that, if a man is given gifts on valentines, they have a chance to return the favor with a gift of their own.

knock.

knock.

knock.

your hands shake as you retract them back to your side. holding a few more bundles of homemade chocolate in your arms. your figure is on high alert, anxious eyes frantically raking over the familiar carpets and doors of tokyo university dorm halls. it feels like a whole hour passes without a sign of life on the other end of the door. you nip at the bottom of your lip, is it really that late? he couldn’t possibly be asleep, right?

you should probably just leave. go and give the rest of the chocolates to the remaining of your friends then come back and check on akaashi later. it’s what your mind tells you to do but your feet are planted to the floor.

knock just once more, your heart whispers. you have about four more boxes to deliver after akaashi’s own. suddenly you’re caught between a crossfire against your mind and your emotions; deliver the others! one side screams, knock again! they other yells back.

you’re standing there for a good, minute or two when your eyes shot up at the white board half-heartedly hung to the door, “akaashi’s room” it reads… your palms flail against your legs, eyes downcast to the floor.

“akaashi… keiji,” the name leaves your lips in a wisp of sound. you can feel your heart skip a beat at the way it rolls perfectly off your tongue and then you smile. you’re beaming at the floor, slowly raising your head to stare at the creme colored door.

your eyes shine with an unknown confidence, your dominant arm lifts up meeting the cool surface of the door once again; knock, knock, knock.

you stand there for a while before the sound of the bathroom shower being turned off sets into the silence. well, at least he wasn’t ignoring me. you sigh in relief, the smile on your lips growing impossibly bigger.

seconds pass and the door is swinging open revealing the tall build of your very familiar classmate akaashi, “oh, hello (l/n).”

he’s dressed in casual clothes readying himself for sleep, you assume. a towel is in his hands, ruffling through his damp hair, “i apologize for keeping you waiting.”

his face is stoic, eyes blank and there isn’t even a smile one his pressed lips but you’re okay with that. you’ve known the taller boy long enough to know that casually showing physical emotions wasn’t his strongest point. so you smile, ignoring the quickening pace of your heartbeat.

“it’s totally fine, akaji!” you wave off, “i wasn’t out here long.” he nods, eying your figure before ultimately locking his stare on the boxes within your arms, “you seem like you need help with those boxes, (y/n).”

it’s not a question but you know what he means.

you lightly giggle at his words, “yeah, it does, doesn’t it? i’ll tell you what, do you know how you can help me with these boxes?” he shakes his head, his hair moving too. his genuine concern has butterflies ticking your insides.

oh god, you can feel your cheeks heating up already, “by taking that red box, right there on the top. you see it?”

he nods, reaching out for the one you described. slightly his brows furrow at the little card that dangles from the box, “to keiji, from (l/n) (y/n)” it reads. there are hearts that dot every “i”. he hums appreciating the details, “this one has my name on it.”

“yup,” you tease, “it’s yours, silly!” there’s a beat of silence that blanket the two of you. he stares at the box examining it’s every detail while you stare at him.

“happy— happy valentines day, keiji!”

you’ve been able to keep your cool for the most part. going to your crushes private dorm room and then giving him chocolates on the day of love is really gutsy! he could seriously reject the chocolate and shove it back in your face… it’s a thought that makes a chill run down your spine.

what if he rejects you?

the panic rises in your stomach. at first, it gets queasy and you can feel your arms slipping around the boxes. this isn’t even a romantic confession, it’s for friendship but what if he throws it on the ground? screams in your face saying the two of you aren’t even friends?

you hate this.

you listened to your heart before, staying put and waiting for the door to be open. you didn’t regret that much and you thank your emotional side because it made you take this risk but that’s the thing.

it’s a risk.

even with a somewhat good outcome, there’s always a bad one too. sometimes even multiple bad ones so without thought you move your legs forward taking quick steps away from the door, running.

“happy va– valentines, keiji! uh, enjoy the– the– chocolate!”

you can’t see or even hear if he does anything in response to your rushed and rather rude leaving. your heart sputters in your chest a million beats a minute. your palms flush against your heated checks (dropping some boxes as you do so but you could care less about that right now).

you hated that.

and you hate your feelings too.

you find yourself thinking about that awkward incident a lot. and every time, your cheeks flare up in color and your stomach drops. since then you and akaashi haven’t had a proper conversation. there are times when you see each other in passing and make brief eye contact. you share a small smile and he nods in exchange for your greeting.

other times, like in when you’re out in about, there’s nothing. both too busy studying in the library, partying with friends, and making new ones to simply stop to start a conversation.

mornings are brief.

“good morning, (y/n).”

“oh– uh, good morning, akaji.”

as are the same with nights.

“have a good rest, akaashi.”

“you too, (l/n).”

it’s how your usual conversations are. it’s turned into the norm for the both of you, short. and you’re okay with that, honestly. at least minimal talking is better than him completely ignoring your existence, right? and it’s those kinds of positive (somewhat at least) reassurances that help you drift to sleep.

especially on nights right before another holiday. a holiday celebrating love one more, nights right before white day.

your arms feel heavy and it’s not just from the work out you forced yourself to endure that morning. boxes upon boxes of gifts and chocolates pile in your arms. it’s a struggle to keep them all steady, but your managing— somehow. it completely flew over your head that today is white day! let’s just say that your mind was a tad bit preoccupied last night…

your classmates had all gotten you something, returning your affections on valentines day like true gentlemen. some made handmade gifts like and other’s opted for the easy way out with store-bought flowers or assorted chocolates.

the ding of the elevator pulls you out of your thoughts. at the same time, you let out a tense sigh, as much as you adored your classmates— all these gifts were going to fall soon. you take a step out of the lift, heaving the gifts.

there’s so much, you deadpan. if only someone could help–

“(y/n), would you like some help?”

oh god, you know that velvety voice anywhere. walking forward, the figure appears in your peripherals. his dark hair is the first thing you take notice of. the second is his hands reaching out to catch a fallen box.

“um, yea– yeah. that would be great if you could… help,” you curse at your stuttering. the young boy nods, as he stands in front of you. he takes a few boxes lessening your load, you awkwardly smile.

“thank you, akaji.” you nod, “my room is–”

for a split second, you see an emotion flash in his eyes. it’s much too quick to decipher. and it’s times like these when you wish you had the power to read minds because dear god, you’re nervous.

“i know where your room is, (y/n),” and then he’s off taking long strides towards your room that was coincidently near his. you’re following his steps, the air around you silent yet comfortable.

but despite your calm demeanor, your mind speaks your true feelings, why does he know where my room is? it’s no big deal! his room is right next to yours, of course, he knows where it is!

“we’re here,” his words break you out of thought. your eyes shoot up to his handsome face, tracing the outline of his lips before moving onto his eyes. akaashi is a piece of art. he’s by far the most good-looking boy in your class and the most thoughtful as well.

his passion for literature and how caring he is through words rather then actions makes your heart stutter and your stomach tumble.

he has so much power over you and he doesn’t even know it.

“(y/n), please unlock the door so we can go in,” did you just freeze up staring at your crush? god, how embarrassing! if he noticed your staring, he doesn’t say. your face flares up, cheeks a deep red it could rival tendou’s dye job! you rush to the door, unlocking it with a simple swipe before turning to your bed and dropping the boxes.

the pretty setter follows suit, although he’s a bit more tamed with his movements. your mind can’t stop reeling about what just happened. he caught you checking him out! what kind of person just openly does that to their crush?! you mentally groan, this is a disaster!

“thank– thank you, keiji. you can leave, now. if you like,” you don’t look at him. occupying yourself with sorting out the gifts you carelessly dropped onto your cushion. a minute passes and there’s still no movement in your peripheral. risking a chance, you look up.

the sight before you has you shocked.

akaashi looks down his handsome face downcast and his gaze is focused on a small box in his hand. the box is in the shape of a heart with a white bow tied around it. you’re not able to see his expression but judging from the sudden air of tension— it couldn’t be good.

“akaashi? are you… alright?”

there’s no response. his face turned away from you but his hand is extended. the pink heart lays in his hand. is he… giving this to you? the realization makes your knees wobble. you study him once more, your brows furrowed in confusion. his peachy skin has the slightest hints of pink on his cheeks and your almost glad that this intimate moment isn’t only affecting you.

maybe he likes you too, there goes your heart again… it’s white day, remember? reminds your logical side. shakily, you reach out your hand. fingers brushing over his slender ones as you grip the small box.

it’s featherlike against your hands.

what could possibly be inside?

your fingers working to undo the ribbon then lift the cover. you can feel akaashi’s dark eyes on you, no longer is he looking off to the side. you’re expecting chocolates or maybe even a small stuffed animal inside but– you’re even more surprised at the reveal.

it’s not chocolate or even a small gift but rather a small piece of paper nestled comfortably in pink strands of box fillers. you immediately recognize akaashi’s handwriting neatly scowled on the sheet, “look… up?”

and you do.

what you see is akaashi, unsurprisingly, but he’s not so far away anymore. instead, he’s right in front of you. his face merely inches away from yours, his cheeks still flushed. but he’s not looking away, no, in fact, his gaze seems locked on yours.

your heart is beating a hundred beats per second. everything is blurry and the only thing you can really make out is him. his rosy cheeks, his eyes that glimmer in the dim lighting of your room, the soft scent of citrus and fresh laundry. things that just scream; him.

and then he’s leaning forward.

lips pressed against your own in a soft pucker. instantly, your eyes flutter close getting lost in the feeling of his warm lips on yours. chills run down your spine and everything feels like it’s so much more. gently, his hand cups at your jaw guiding your mouth against his. sending your heart on a mini-rampage within your chest.

your hands fly up to his shirt fisting the fabric out of pure nervousness. you can feel his chest against your own and you wonder if his heart is beating as fast as yours…

he swiftly tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. his other hand makes amends running through the strands of your hair. white hot bliss burns in your veins as you let out a small gasp for air. feeling bold, he takes his chance of pressing his tongue into her mouth.

it was all so much. his scent, his lips against yours sending you to heaven, the goosebumps forming, your mind racing, your heart pounding.

you need air!

you abruptly lean back, hands no longer gripping his shirt but rather flattening out against him. immediately, his eyes shot open drinking in your flushed out manner. the two of you linger in that state for a bit. his eyes tracing every detail of yours.

cheeks pink and slightly sweating, eyes wide and mouth open panting for air. does this mean he likes you too? your mind’s racing, thought after thought piling over one another until–

“i’m sorry– i thought… you– i apologize for making you uncomfortable.”

uncomfortable?

his cheeks are tinged and lips glisten in the light, slightly swollen. his eyes are downcast focusing on the floor rather than yourself. his hands to his side fingering at the pockets of his pants.

he looks so dejected. so sad at the mere thought of your rejection. he looks like a child that got told they weren’t allowed to eat their favorite treat. his eyes don’t shine with the courage to meet your own anymore. it makes your heart drop, a small pout forming on your own lips.

you’re quick to explain your thoughts, “no keiji, i wasn’t– wasn’t uncomfortable at all… i just– everything was just so much.” his brows furrow in confusion. that certainly caught his attention real fast…

“i… don’t understand what you mean,” is his response. if it weren’t for the fact that he kissed you and you knew he returned your feelings than you probably would have been long gone by now. it didn’t matter if it was your room or not. the awkward tension was just too thick!

deciding to not beat around the bush, because if you knew anything it’s that akaashi isn’t one for making things complicated. you let out a playful sigh, “akaashi keiji, i like you. that kiss did not make me uncomfortable in fact it was the opposite of that. and i would not mind if you– you did it again.”

and nearly as fast as it appeared, your confidence ran right out the door. there’s a few seconds silence, you no longer stare at him but rather his sock covered feet. even if you knew he returned your feelings this is still beyond embarrassing.

“i like you too, (y/n). and i wouldn’t mind if we did again either,” almost at the same time you look up he’s pressing a chaste kiss on your plush lips. that same fluttering feeling erupts in your stomach and you can feel the heat rising up on your neck.

it’s then that you realize, you’ll never get used to kissing akaashi.

[riacte]

Unnecessary Hermit MCC Team Speculation

So according to Scott, teams are in the works, applications likely closed a few days ago, MCC 14 date is known to participants, MCC Twitter says they’re gonna steal CPK’s spotlight after wishing him a happy birthday. So we’re getting MCC 14 relatively soon. Hence I’m making my 284927391 hermit MCC team speculation.

Hermit duos:

Actually I think we’ll be seeing more duos in MCC S2.

1) Hermits and Scott have probably realized hermit duos perform way better than trios/ quartet (the only hermit duo team that didn’t get to DB is the first time False and Ren played)

2) They wanna meet new people, but they also want to play with friends. So 2+2 will be a good combo. You can meet new people while having a buddy you a stick to.

False + Cub

I don’t think any of the hermits are confirmed to join (Doc has shown interest) but I feel these two would most likely be in MCC 14?

1) False has been in every MCC since debut

2) Cub plays every other MCC, and he skipped MCC 13

3) Most important of all, they’ve both been polishing their skills through parkour and speedrunning etc. I think they’re currently the most competitive of the hermits, so I won’t be surprised at all if they pair up for a competitive team.

False + Grian

A surprisingly popular duo in post-MCC 13 team predictions. I like them as a duo, and I used to think we’ll have a bigger chance of getting False + Cub/Ren, but now I think about, the team predictions may be right.

1) False has been with Ren and Cub for their first victory, so according to ✨meta✨ she’ll be with Grian for his first victory and her third. The Hermit Winner enabler.

2) Grian is the only hermit regular who hasn’t won yet, and really really wants to win (he said he was gonna cry himself to sleep after he lost MCC 13 lol)

3) False is seen as the most competitive

So if Grian wants to win and go full competitive, and I feel Scott will likely pair him with False. Also Reddit loves this duo apparently. Another incentive.

False + Ren

Ah yes, the hermit team staple. Ex base-buddies my beloved. The duo that’s always been together. I miss them lmfao

I feel they’re gonna continue pairing up because False said she’s gonna collect all ranks with Ren? Also I feel Ren likely asks for False every time (Scott said someone asked for False back in MCC 9, we thought it was H, but apparently neither H or Fruit specified a person, so I guess it’s Ren. Makes sense because Ren’s with False literally every single time).

There’s not much to say except if they team up again, everyone saw it coming.

But also exactly because they’ve teamed up for so many times that they may decided to split for a MCC or two? That doesn’t seem to be what they’re doing though.

Ren + Cub

Honestly every time I think of this potential duo, I just see False sandwiched between them lmao. Because this a hermit trio. These two are probably False’s most frequent collaborators?? (Although there’s not much False and Ren collab this season)

Basically I somehow can’t see this happening without False. I’m sorry lmao

Grian + Cub

To a lot of people’s surprise, they haven’t teamed before. They’re probably the duo that collabs the least often on Hermitcraft so I kinda get why. Still wanna see this duo.

Grian + Ren

They’re close enough that they apparently visit each other irl. Which is very sweet. I can honestly see them as a duo, just chilling and having fun.

Hermit trios:

False + Ren + Grian/Cub. With the FRG trio happening more often in recent MCCs, FRC trio happening more often in the early, chill days. Hermit trio + S tier (aka. Lime Liches) is the most powerful version of hermit trios, and may even rival the strength of hermit duo + S tier teams.

FRG:

Honestly this seems like a feasible trio, especially when Cub skips a MCC/ plays with non hermits (MCC 7, 11, 12). There’s also the Lime Liches bias with this trio, so Scott might be more inclined to put them together?

Also if Cub skips, it means Scott will either have to make a hermit duo + solo hermit OR make a hermit trio. And Scott will probably put the solo hermit with hermit adjacent (eg. Grian with Pearl). Also pretty sure for this case, it’s gonna be False + Ren duo, Grian with hermit adjacent people just like MCC 9. That being said, MCC 9 was special because I think False and Ren specifically said they were gonna go competitive, while Grian not, so it makes sense for the split. For the current meta of competitive hermits, it might be easier for Scott to stuff the hermits together in a trio (eg. Lime Liches)??

FRC:

The last time this trio appeared was MCC 8. From that moment onwards, Cub has been in competitive teams either in a duo or solo, and had gotten to Dodgebolt in all his post-MCC 8 tourneys. So I honestly don’t know if we’ll see them together again. Maybe we’ll get something like Lime Liches.

New hermits:

I can see False-Ren-Doc as a trio for Doc’s first MCC.

1) This team appeared in CotC

2) To use Ren and Doc’s words: #ShipRendoc

3) Putting False here because I feel non hermits will be very ?!!???? at the Rendoc flirting

I can also see Iskall in a hermit trio. In particular Iskall-Grian-Ren

1) We got Team FRIC in MCC 5, so maybe something new?

2) Renskall. That’s it.

3) Everyone wants Grian-Iskall interaction, especially because they don’t collab that much this season compared to the last

But really I can see Iskall with every hermit regular. The reason I feel newcomers will be in trios not duos is that having two veterans to coach the newbie(s) is better than having one.

Hermit quartet

Genuinely don’t think this will happen if the hermits go competitive. Maybe we’ll get this for a chill MCC. Maybe not.

The hermit quartet in MCC 5 did pretty good though, but team standards have changed a lot since then. I kinda wanna see Iskall in another hermit quartet.

Others:

The famous Grian-False-Techno-Wilbur team, if you ignore the swearing thing and opposite Dodgebolt strategies. This team will have a fuckton of clout, probably comparable to MCC 13 Pink.

I actually feel this might happen because it’s highly popular and highly requested

But also 1) the swearing thing 2) Scott tends to put people who have similar attitudes (eg. hermits play with people who advocate arrow splitting) 3) they’re a powerful team. So maybe not.

Lime Liches. I seriously believe this might happen because of the very high demand and the Blue Bats bias. They got screwed over bc of parkour, many people think they deserve a redemption. They’re not too strong as a team either. It’ll be like MCC 8/9 Green.

Also the Fruit+Grian duo. I’m pretty sure this duo will happen at least once in S2. Grian famously commented he wants to team with Fruit, Fruit replied, even had an alt Twitch called “grianstanaccount”. Won’t be surprised at ALL if they ask for each other. Maybe this will happen along with LL redemption.

Hermits and H? This is to pacify the Blue Bats fandom. Also if we have hermit trio + Fruit, why not H lmao. But H said he wants to play with new people, and I think he said he wants to team with Puffy, sooo.... imagine we get sth like False Cub H Puffy. Lmao.

Hermits and Dream? I said I can’t see this happening, esp with Ren, but maybe Scott will do it for the Dreamslayer memes

Hermits and Quig? After Pete and Fruit, Quig is probably the most hermit friendly S tier. I think people said he would vibe well with the hermits. Quig is also involved in the X Life circle, which overlaps with the hermits’ circle.

Anyways. I’ve liked all Hermit teams so far, I’m sure Scott will make them fantastic as always. If you’ve reached this point, thank you for reading my pointless speculation. See you when MCC 14 teams are revealed :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1

- Chapter 2 -

It turned out that the party had been a meeting of important cultivators, sect leaders, and that meant, of course, that his father had been there.

His father. No wonder his mother had been so excited!

And even knowing that nothing had come of it, that his mother had returned empty-handed, despite himself, when he heard it, Meng Yao was excited, too, feeling a frisson of hope run down his spine. He regretted, now, that he hadn’t been able to go to the party as a server, thinking of the might-have-beens if he’d gone, if he’d done something to impress the man, if his father had finally decided to take them away from this place –

“He was too drunk to recognize me,” his mother said, sad and eyes distant. “And some of the younger girls had gotten to him first…I couldn’t catch his eye, and in the end they sent me away with one of the other sect leaders.”

As a joke, she didn’t say, an old whore with a man too drunk to tell the difference, but Meng Yao wouldn’t guess at that truth, the source of so much bitterness, until much later.

“Not Wen Ruohan, right?” Meng Yao asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when she shook her head.

“You shouldn’t refer to your elders by name, A-Yao,” she reminded him, always trying to teach him etiquette – though now that he thought about it, Nie Mingjue had used the man’s name directly, too. Maybe it was his way of trying to make the man seem less scary. “It would be ‘Sect Leader Wen’…and how do you know any of the sect leader’s names, anyway?”

“A cultivator came here last night,” Meng Yao explained. “He gave me a qiankun pouch, and some money –”

“In return for what?” His mother’s voice was sharp. “A-Yao, I told you, you’re not allowed to make deals with people –”

Meng Yao’s shoulders went up by his ears. He knew what she really meant, that he wasn’t allowed to sell himself or his body because it’d give him a bad reputation in the future; he wasn’t allowed even if it meant the difference between a hungry night and a full one, a freezing one and a warm one.

“I didn’t do that,” he muttered. “I just –”

“There’s no just. No deals at all, A-Yao; if you get into the habit of seeing everything as something you can buy or sell, then it’s only a matter of time before someone buys you.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Meng Yao protested. “He gave me a pouch, and he said –”

It was the wrong thing to say, especially after a disappointment like last night, and his mother started scolding him fiercely, alternating with tears, and in the end he decided it was better to say nothing.

Nie Mingjue would come back with the manual, the way he’d come back with the money, or else he wouldn’t, and either way there was nothing Meng Yao could do about it.

And anyway, after a few months, he realized he had bigger problems.

It started pretty unnoticeably: a tightness in his mother’s face, an unusual refusal to take on clients for the more lucrative type of engagements, spending more on food than usual…at first Meng Yao thought that it was only that she was happy to have money again, even if it spilled through their fingers like sand on getting her new clothing and better make-up, larger shoes for Meng Yao and a warm coat, only slightly torn from previous use.

He’d been worried, although not unduly so, when she’d started being sick sometimes – she’d claimed it was food poisoning, and they had been eating more meat than usual, so maybe…

Foolish.

One of the other ladies called it out one day in mockery, not a single doubt in her voice, and his mother didn’t deny it. Meng Yao’s stomach dropped, his heart frozen in terror.

Pregnant.

Again.

And she hadn’t taken any steps to get rid of it, the way she should have – whores had their ways, even if they weren’t perfect, and his mother knew enough of them. He knew that she would have been acting very differently if she intended to abort, would have been less cautious, less resistant, less –

She’d bedded a sect leader at that party, he remembered, doing the miserable math on his fingers. Not his father again, no, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice - would she? She’d gone there to see him, after all.

No, in the end, she was still counting on Meng Yao to earn his way into his father’s graces on his own, for the sake of both of them. But she had gone to bed with another one, and if it had taken…

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared losing that love.

He tried to keep his fears to himself, tried not to burden her, but in the end he was a child and not yet good enough at hiding his expressions; she spotted him soon enough, took him into her arms and coaxed his fears from him.

“You silly goose, A-Yao. Don’t you know it’s for you?” she whispered in his ear, putting his hand on her belly. “I’m too old and sick to have a strong child, all the doctors said so; even if this one is born, he’ll be weak and sickly, likely to be swept away by the first chill of winter. I don’t need that sect leader to support me – we know already that they won’t do that. I just need him to feel guilty enough to take you with him back to his sect as recompense for having burdened me with a child that was lost.”

Meng Yao felt a touch of ice run down his spine. “But...what if the child lives through the winter?”

“There are many ways for a child to die,” his mother said, and her voice was calm and gentle, a pool undisturbed by the ripples beneath, just the way she’d always taught him. “Only some of them are winter.”

Meng Yao knew his mother loved him, but for the first time in his life, he feared what that love might mean.

His mother had grown cunning since his birth and more cynical since his father’s most recent rejection. She decided not to write to the sect leader with the news at once – that would be risking a rejection, a dismissal, an accusation that the child could be someone else’s son, or worst of all a blow to make her miscarry. She planned instead to wait until the child was almost here and only then she would summon him, knowing he would come to check just in case it was true. It was said that cultivators had a means of testing birthright, the way regular people didn’t, and that they were very cautious about such things.

That way, when the child died at birth or immediately thereafter, there would still be enough time for the sect leader to feel guilt and to be coaxed into taking Meng Yao in as a disciple, and once Meng Yao had learned the basics of cultivation, he could make his way to his father’s place to prove to him that he was worth taking in, that it was time to make good on all the old promises he’d made.

It was a good plan, if a cold one.

It would have worked, too, if Meng Yao hadn’t blundered his way into something better.

Perhaps that was giving him too much credit: he wasn’t the one who did the blundering. That was all Nie Mingjue, who six months after he’d made a crazy promise to return had actually gone and done it.

“You live in Qinghe,” Meng Yao said accusingly instead of greeting him, because he’d gone to listen to the gossips talk until he’d managed to figure out where the cultivation sect surnamed ‘Nie’ resided. “That’s not even in this part of the country; how can you be back so soon?”

“I promised you I would, didn’t I? I keep my word,” Nie Mingjue said with a smile, as if it was that easy – as if a child could make decisions like that, ones that involved crossing mountains and rivers and going deep into another sect’s territory, when Meng Yao couldn’t even walk too far down the street without the brothel owners cursing him out as a would-be runaway. “Don’t worry about it. The Jiang sect doesn’t really pay attention as a general rule, and even if they did their current leader’s too busy with his angry wife to care about who’s traveling through his domain.”

Meng Yao rolled his eyes - he’d heard that gossip, too. But he didn’t care, that wasn’t what mattered; there were more important things to focus on. “Did you bring it?”

Nie Mingjue produced a manual out of his sleeve. The quality of the paper was far better than any of the ones Meng Yao’s mother had bought for him, and he knew at once by looking at it that this was no fake. He tried to grab at it with both hands, but Nie Mingjue pulled it back.

“Cultivation is dangerous,” he warned. “You need a guide, at least at first, to make sure you don’t make any mistakes – it’s easy to make mistakes, especially at the beginning, and that can lay the groundwork for a qi deviation in the future. I’ll let you read it, but you have to promise that you’ll only practice with me for the first week or so, okay?”

“You’re staying a week?”

Nie Mingjue’s cheeks flushed red. “Uh, well – I was planning on two, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course I don’t mind! You can stay with me in my attic.”

“I brought enough money for a room at an inn –”

“We can use the extra to buy more meat,” Meng Yao told him, already pushing and shoving him, and Nie Mingjue was easily convinced.

He was easily convinced to follow him back to the brothel, too, which was a little frustrating: how could anyone be that naïve? If Meng Yao had wanted to sell Nie Mingjue, he probably could do it, cultivator or no; there were a hundred things to fear in a brothel, hidden in the tea or the incense or the smiles of seemingly friendly strangers.

Nie Mingjue was lucky that Meng Yao had longer-term goals in mind for him.

They passed the day quite pleasantly, eating meat skewers and dragon’s beard candy and discussing the basics of cultivation – Meng Yao read the book (his book!) and asked questions, and Nie Mingjue did his best to answer them – and then in the latter part of the afternoon the women at the brothel roused themselves, coming out to prepare for their nightly work, his mother included.

She was fairly heavily pregnant now, but there were men who liked that sort of thing, as long as there was something she could do for them, and the brothel owners wouldn’t waste their money by kicking her out no matter how annoyed they were at her for keeping the child. She wasn’t allowed to roam too far out of her room, being as she was a specialized service that might frighten regular customers, and so it wasn’t until she came to find Meng Yao to make sure he was all right that Nie Mingjue saw her for the first time.

“This is my mother,” Meng Yao said, his back stiff with expected insults even though Nie Mingjue hadn’t said a single word about Meng Yao living in a brothel so far.

Nie Mingjue stared at her with eyes so big and round and surprised that Meng Yao irritably wondered if he’d never seen a whore before, or perhaps it was the idea that one might be stupid enough to get pregnant and keep it. Maybe he would save his insults for that, instead, and Meng Yao would be forced to try to break his handsome face…

“You’re the lady they sent to my father’s room,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice faint and shaking with shock. “You’re – is that my brother?”

It turned out that the Nie sect, unlike the Jin sect, cared a great deal for matters of blood and children born of it; Nie Mingjue didn’t even demand a test or anything before he’d insisted that they come back to Qinghe with him, both of them, absolutely certain that his father would be overjoyed by the news.

Meng Yao and his mother exchanged looks, each of them skeptical and cynical to the core, and tried to convince him to slow down a little. To write a letter, perhaps –

“No! You have to come right away,” Nie Mingjue insisted, his cheeks pink with excitement. “We have doctors to care for you, and, oh, he’ll need a saber, someone will need to start on that right away – and anyway, a Nie should be born in Qinghe.”

“There’s still some months left to go,” Meng Shi said, though Meng Yao could see that she was a little amused by Nie Mingjue’s earnest enthusiasm. “Tell your father to come here and take me away, if you’re sure he’ll care so much.”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s just busy at the borders again, with Qishan Wen causing trouble all over; who knows how long it’d take for him to get word? Why do we have to wait for him to come in person anyway?”

“Because we can’t leave,” Meng Yao said, finally condescending to point out the obvious. “Mother belongs to the brothel, and we haven’t saved up enough to buy her freedom.”

Even an old whore was an expensive proposition, especially if she knew skills like singing and dancing and playing instruments the way Meng Shi did – and one with a burden like Meng Yao could be exploited to do all sorts of things that a normal woman might refuse. It would be costly to redeem her, more costly than anything a young sect heir might have expected to buy.

Meng Yao had expected that to be the end of it, but he’d apparently underestimated Nie Mingjue’s stubbornness: he went to the market and sold every last piece of metal he had on him, right down to the silver crown off his head, and was about to go try to barter away his clothing or sell his strength to a dockworker when Meng Yao shoved the money he’d so carefully saved up into his hands.

“With this it might be enough,” he said, biting his lip with guilt as his mother gaped at the glittering gold in his hand – he hadn’t dared tell her about it, about the fact that he’d been saving up again. She’d told him before that there was no point in buying her freedom, that she had no other skills to sell and a bad reputation to boot; they would live free for a single summer only to have to sell her back again in the winter, and the brothel owners wouldn’t be pleased at all by that.

“It will be,” Nie Mingjue said. “Even if I have to buy the rest on credit, it will be!”

“At least be clever about this,” Meng Shi sighed, giving in even though she clearly didn’t think it was a good idea. Meng Yao supposed she figured that if it came down to it, there were brothels in Qinghe, too, and at least she’d be something new there with her soft Yunping accent and manners. “If they think you’re desperate, they’ll raise the price – you should be more arrogant. Act as if you were doing them a favor by taking me off their hands.”

Nie Mingjue’s nose wrinkled.  

“Pretend they’re surnamed Wen,” Meng Yao suggested, and that did the trick: Nie Mingjue’s lip curled at once, vicious and angry (and a little scared, but only deep down where most people wouldn’t see it easily). He marched right inside the brothel and demanded they sell Meng Shi to him, flaunting himself as the son of what he called a Great Sect.

It might not have worked except that he made such a fuss that people started to gather, including a passing cultivator and his wife – a much more respectable-looking pair than gawky too-tall-for-his-age Nie Mingjue with his hair now bound only by a ribbon, with a horsetail whip in the hands of the woman and swords on both of them – and the man’s eyebrows had gone up as high as his forehead. “Nie-gongzi,” he called, and even saluted properly and everything. “What are you doing so far from home?”

“Trying to complete a transaction,” Nie Mingjue growled, glaring at the brothel owner even as he saluted back. “I think he doesn’t think I’m good for it.”

The female cultivator snorted, shifting the baby she carried on her back from one side to the other. “That’s brave of him. Doesn’t your Nie sect like to break things that disagree with you and pay for the damages later?”

“He’s too young for that,” her husband told her. “Look, he’s not even carrying his saber yet.”

“I wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “I was talking about the retainers his father almost certainly sent to track him down – didn’t you say you saw some very angry-looking cultivators entering town not long ago? They looked fit to slaughter.”

Nie Mingjue blanched, suggesting that he hadn’t expected company quite this early – or perhaps hoping that he could hide away from them – but the cultivators’ words had made the brothel owner quite contemplative. He finally agreed to sell him Meng Shi’s contract for all the money Nie Mingjue had and a letter of promise for that amount a second time over, an outrageous price even after they’d used all of Meng Shi’s tricks on him, but Nie Mingjue had agreed to it in a heartbeat.

“Won’t your father be angry at your spending?” Meng Yao asked, wondering. It was so much money.

“I’ll make it up to him,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively. “As soon as I get my saber and start night-hunting, money flows free and easy. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see what it’s like once you get there.”

Meng Yao blinked. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to be a cultivator?” Nie Mingjue asked, blinking at him. “You’ll be part of my Nie sect, of course, so the same rules that apply to me will apply to you.”

“No,” Meng Yao explained. “I’m going to be part of –”

His mother pressed down on his shoulder. “You’d be willing to accept A-Yao into your sect?” she asked, her gaze sharp and penetrating.

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding puzzled. “I was willing to do it before, just for helping me out, and now, well – he’s the brother of my brother, isn’t he? That makes him all but family directly, especially if you marry in as a concubine.”

They both gaped at him.

“…do you not want to?” Nie Mingjue – hapless idiot, fulfiller of dreams – asked, actually sounding worried. “I just assumed you would, to make sure the child isn’t born a bastard…”

“I wouldn’t object,” Meng Shi said, her voice full of rich irony that only Meng Yao understood. “But I think your father might.”

“You don’t know my father,” Nie Mingjue said simply. As if it was simple, as if people were like that. “He’ll do the right thing.”

[kaalamarii]

How would the brothers and Diavolo react to an s/o that is usually really chill, but when she gets angry, she could even rival Satan?

Thanks for being my very first request! 

I don’t think I followed your prompt completely, but I tried to at least stay close. I didn’t do Diavolo cause I’m not super confident in writing him yet. 😳 

Hope you still like it! 

Lucifer

Lucifer basically lives with a bunch of children, so you being easy going is a breath of fresh air for him.

You didn’t bother him as he worked late in his study, often leaving you to yourself in his bedroom to wait for him.

Still, you worried about him.

You’d tell him he needed more sleep or that he was working too much.

He’d brush you off which kind of annoyed you but you knew there was no use arguing with the demon.

You were super happy one weekend when you woke up, surprised to see him still in bed with you.

“You’re usually up by now, working.”

He nodded. “Diavolo wanted me to take a break this weekend. He said I was overworking myself.”

Lucifer went to kiss you but you moved away. “Hold up.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“I’ve been telling you that for weeks and you basically tell me to fuck off…

But now when Diavolo says the same thing you listen?”

He laughs. “Well, yes, I answer to Diavolo. You’re just a human, you don’t know anything.”

You scoff. You shouldn’t be surprised by his douchebaggery but you are.

“You’re such a dick sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes and you get out of bed, huffing around the room as you get dressed.

“Really, MC, can you quit being so dramatic?”

You glare so intensely at him that it’s amazing you didn’t burn holes into him.

“Fuck you.”

Lucifer wants to punish you for your rudeness, but he can’t help but smirk. You’re pretty adorable right now.

He lays back in bed, knowing you’ll be back soon.

Mammon

You’re always up for Mammon’s crazy adventures. You’re like his sidekick, sitting back and letting him do his thing. 

When things go wrong, you don’t make fun of him, call him a moron, or anything. You just smile at him and comfort him.

He crosses a line one day when you come home to find him in your bedroom, going through your stuff. He has a very special family heirloom of yours in his hand and you know his plans for it. 

Mammon is instantly stuttering, trying to find some excuse for why he has your stuff in his hand. “H-hey babe. I was just missing you and wanting somethin’ of yours to remind me of you!”

You’re having none of it.

Your face turns red, and your eyes are like daggers coming for him.

“I know you are not thinking of selling my shit.”

You back the stuttering demon into a corner, hand reached out. 

“Give it back. Now.”

Mammon looks around, refusing to meet your eyes. Damn, this human is scary.

“Mammon, give it back!” You reach over to snatch it out of his hand.

Mammon yelps and drops it, pushing past you and running out of your room.

Later when you’ve calmed down a bit you get a text from Lucifer. “The issue has been dealt with.”

He sends a picture of Mammon hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Usually you feel bad when this happens, but right now, you laugh.

 Serves him right.

Leviathan

Levi loves that you’re so low maintenance.The two of you can play games or just chill and watch anime together. The two of you are happy doing your own things.

The first time he sees you angry, he’s in his bathtub reading manga while you’re playing some game on one of his consoles. You’re having a difficult time fighting a particular boss and doing your best to stay patient. 

It doesn’t last long.

You let out a loud, “WHAT THE FUCK!” as you lose once again, violently throwing the controller down.

Levi jumps.

You are fuming, balling your hands up into fists, your knuckles turning white.

He stares at you, mouth open, face pink, frozen. He doesn’t know what to do.

He looks to the controller on the floor, then back at you, annoyance on his face.

“Heyyyy! You could’ve broken my controller!”

You glare at him and he shrinks into his tub, hiding his face in his manga. You’re too angry to feel bad right now, and you’ve seen him throw it around several times.

You’re breathing heavily. Levi gets out of his tub and wraps you in his arms. 

“Let me join the game. We’ll beat him together.”

Satan

Obviously Satan is the angry one between the two of you.

You often have to calm him down when he is upset.

You’re the perfect balance to his wrath, he thinks.

Until the first time he sees yours.

He had been in an argument with Lucifer and took it out on you, snapping at you for some ridiculous reason.

He’s been an asshole all day because of his fight with Lucifer, and you’ve tried your best to not take it personally. But for whatever reason, his comment sends you over the edge.

You suddenly let out a loud growl and reach over, slapping him across the face.

Satan instantly puts his hand up to his cheek, over your fingerprints. He is looking at you, wide eyed.

His shock wears off quickly, replaced with anger. His horns come out.

To be honest, you’re really scared. But too upset to back down.

“Next time you want to do that, reconsider.”

He’s towered over you despite not being too much taller than you. 

“The next time you want to talk shit, reconsider.”

Satan’s face softens and he actually laughs.

He might be the Avatar of Wrath, but he can’t stay mad at you. He admires your stupidity bravery.

“Consider us even.”

Asmodeus

Asmo loves that you’re so easy going. You let him get flirty and snuggly with you. He feels completely loved and accepted with you.

You’re pretty understanding when the two of you go out somewhere and he is crowded by admirers and you don’t complain when he eats it up and flirts back a bit.

One night Asmo’s looking especially gorgeous and somebody steals him away from you to drink and dance with him.

You’re used to being the third wheel of your own relationship and you don’t usually take it personally. You knew going in that Asmo loved attention and agreed not to get in the way as long as he remained respectful of the relationship.

He’s usually pretty good at stopping his fans when they get too handsy but right now he’s a bit too drunk.

You cross your arms, watching some random succubus grinding with your man. You wait patiently for him to put a stop to it.

When she kisses him, you see red.

You basically run over, shoving her off of Asmo.

“Back. the. Fuck. up.”

As much as Asmo wants to watch you fight for him, he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He grabs you, pulling you away as you flail your arms and legs, trying to release yourself and go after the succubus.

He sets you down once you’re outside.

You’re still fuming, pacing back and forward. You’re yelling at him, reminding him of the boundaries the two of you set when you agreed to be with him.

He doesn’t hear you because he’s drunk and he’s so enamored with how adorable you look.

Also, he’s flattered that you’re so jealous.

Beelzebub

Beel finds you sweet and funny and easy to talk to.

You share your food with him. You even let him have the bigger half.

One day in the kitchen, you are making cookies. It’s a special recipe that’s been passed down through generations of your family. Beel is so ready for them, sitting and waiting for them to be done baking.

You pull them out of the oven and the demon drools. “Those look and smell so good.”

“You can have some if you want.”

“Thanks, MC.”

You turn to wash your hands and start cleaning up the flour and other ingredients that may have fallen onto the floor and counter.

You hear a crash and turn back to see the cookie sheet on the floor and Beel with a mouth full.

“Did you eat all of them?”

He smiles. “They were delicious!”

You know it’s a bit petty, but you can’t help but feel a bit of rage take over you.

“But I didn’t even get any…” Your voice is low, super low. 

Beel looks at you, confused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

You stomp your foot, basically throwing a fucking tantrum, your eyes tearing up. “You freaked out and destroyed the kitchen AND my room when we had your custard but I don’t even get a bite of the cookies that I made?!”

Beel frowns. He understands why you’re angry and he hates that he’s the reason. 

“I’ll help you make some more,” he tells you once you’re cool enough to listen to him. “I won’t eat any of them, I promise.”

You take him up on his offer and although it’s hard for him, he sticks to his word. 

You’re impressed with his self control. “Okay, you can have one of mine.”

“Nah, they’re yours,” he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

Belphegor

Belphie was surprised by how well the two of you got along, considering he lied to you from your first meeting…

And, you know, he straight up fucking killed you.

The two of you had grown closer and closer, and he could often be found snuggling up to you and napping with his head resting on you.

Still, he noticed you still got tense when the two of you were intimate.

He tried to be understanding, but it hurt.

One night the two of you were on your bed, kissing. You seemed to be relaxed, so he crept his hand up your shirt.

You didn’t mean to, but you jumped. 

Though you did want him to touch you, you couldn’t help but have flashbacks of the night he killed you when you felt his hands on you.

Belphie sighed, pulling away from you. “You still don’t trust me!”

“Belphie…” you groaned, putting a hand on your head. “Please, can we not do this right now.”

“If we’re going to be together, we should talk about this, right?”

You rolled your eyes and sat up to face him. “You really want to talk about that?”

He nods. “You’re still so awkward around me.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You lied to me from the beginning and you fucking KILLED me.”

“Then why are we even trying to be together?”

Ugh, you found him so attractive but he pissed you off so much sometimes.

You stand up, opening your door. “Leave.”

“MC…”

He comes over to you, trying to hug you. You push him away.

“Fuck off, Belphegor!”

It was mean. It was inappropriate. But you didn’t care. You weren’t ready to talk to him and you obviously weren’t ready to be in a relationship with him.

Belphie sighed, leaving to go back to his room. 

He was hurt but he was willing to wait for you. In the meantime, he’d be patient and give you space.

Masterlist

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 4/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The second meeting goes unexpectedly, once again, as Gold reveals more than he intends.

Notes: Thank you so much for all the comments on this fic. I honestly thought it wouldn't be that well received as this Gold is sort of hard to like in places. I'm really enjoying writing this darker version of him, even if it's hard at times to get into his headspace. Enjoy the first of many Skin Deep references, and a slight tick up towards the ultimate rating of this fic. ;) This is the nightie Belle is wearing. Also omg this is unbeta'd and a hot mess, sorry.

[AO3]

If Belle thought that seeing Mr. Gold in the week leading up to her first evening at his house was awkward, then the week after it was excruciating.

All she could think every time she so much as saw him walking by on the street was he’s seen me in my underwear! It made for several days of fierce blushes and unfinished lunches. Her mind kept replaying the moment when she’d turned around to face him again, and he’d let the softest, quietest lovely slip out. She still hadn’t figured out if he’d even meant to say it out loud. It was hard to believe that seeing her in a glorified nightgown had rendered Gold that speechless, especially given how well known he was for having a sharp tongue. She’d witnessed him giving Keith Nottingham a dressing down last summer, right outside the mechanics shop where Keith worked. Even though Keith was well over six feet tall and clearly worked out, Gold made him seem tiny, almost insignificant.

She grinned at the memory.

Keith was a jerk in every sense of the word, and Gold verbally tearing him a new asshole was the least that he deserved. But that was the kind of presence Gold had in the town; the mayor, the sheriff, the district attorney, they all acquiesced to him. Rumors said he had dirt on everyone, that nothing happened within thirty miles of the town line that he didn’t know about. She wondered sometimes whether that was part of why he’d made this deal with her, so that he would know something about her as well, so that he could have that control.

The thought was not comforting, but it was confusing. In theory, she had as much on Gold as he did on her in this situation. In fact, her position would seem far more sympathetic, if embarrassing, and if anyone did find out - god fucking forbid - she highly doubted they would take Gold’s side. It wasn’t the same as whatever he knew about Albert Spencer or Regina Mills, that made them go white as a ghost whenever Gold hinted at it under his breath.

So what the hell was his motivation?

Belle sighed, and regarded herself in the mirror. She’d left the library right on time, and decided that tonight she wouldn’t shower before going to Gold’s. It was a waste of time if every Thursday evening she was going to come home feeling the need to do it again. Instead she sat down to touch up her makeup and hair out of some odd desire to look as nice as possible. It was another one of the things that confused her. She should have said the hell with it, and not cared if her hair needed a good brushing, or if her lipstick had worn off. Yet she did. She cared how she looked, and for as much as Gold was paying her, she figured he might care too.

Last night she’d even put polish on her toenails, a light, shimmery pink, and gave herself a mini pedicure. If she was going to be barefoot again, then that was part of the package too. She’d look as pretty as she could, head to toe - literally, and that way if Gold let anything else slip out, then perhaps he might have reason to mean it.

Belle arrived at Mr. Gold’s house perfectly on time.

Her knock sounded at exactly one minute till seven, she’d checked her phone as she came up the front sidewalk to make sure, and the door opened right as the grandfather clock in the living room chimed the top of the hour.

“Miss French.” Gold’s mouth curved as he gave her a brief, appraising look before stepping back to allow her inside. “Right on time tonight.”

The first thing that she noticed was the bold, pink dress shirt beneath his pinstripe suit. She had noticed a while ago that he preferred a splash of color in his wardrobe, which was usually done through a striking tie or pocket square, but everyone once in a while there was something unexpected; last week it had been his checkered shirt, this week it was a brilliant pink. There was an eccentricity to his style that she appreciated. He appeared very reserved in his manner and dress, yet these little touches reflected something else entirely, something that kept people guessing.

Once again she caught a hint of something from the kitchen, tomatoes and garlic and something spicy. Spaghetti sauce, she assumed, and she made a happy noise, inhaling the mouthwatering scent as Gold once again took her coat and hung it up.

“Well, now I’m even hungrier,” she said. “Does it always smell delicious in here?”

He frowned. “You haven’t eaten?”

Bell shrugged. “Didn’t want to eat and then try on clothes, you know?”

He let out a gumbling hum and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “I assume you know where things are?”

She nodded and stopped by the door to the powder room. “Yup.”

“I need to finish cleaning up,” he said, moving past her and into the short hallway to the kitchen. “Will be just a moment.”

As soon as he turned his back, she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. Her stomach was a mess, unable to decide between hunger pangs and the same vaguely nauseous feeling as last week. She set her purse in the same place on the set of shelves set beside the sink, and slipped off her shoes. She was more than halfway undressed, trousers off and blouse completely unbuttoned, before she thought to look at what Gold had put out for her, and stopped.

The nightie hung on the same padded hanger on the back of the door, looking delicate and pretty and oddly foreboding. It was a light, rosy pink and made of a stretchy cotton blend that was more practical than it was sexy, as was the little robe that went with it, but what her eyes were fixed on was the plunging neckline covered in lace. She swallowed and turned away, letting her blouse fall over her shoulders to catch at her wrists. The chemise from last week was the most unrevealing and basic thing she had, she’d known that, but knowing what else there was to be worn and seeing it hanging in front of her were two different things.

Reaching back, she unhooked her bra and then drew it down before hanging it over one of the posts framing the shelves along with her blouse. Turning back to the door, she took the nightie off the hanger and blanched when she saw the panties beneath it, dangling from one of those metal clips made to hold skirts or pants in place. Her eyes closed and she took a slow breath.

A beat later, she slipped the nightie over her head.

The skirt of it fell just to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her in the front and back, much shorter than what she’d worn last week which was as long as some of her dresses. This was undeniably sexual, meant to tease, and suddenly she was glad there was matching underwear to put on beneath it. She shoved her navy blue pair down and then took them off to lay folded on her trousers. The sensation was strange, so she quickly pulled on the matching panties, and then faced herself in the mirror.

The nightie clipped in the back like a bra, just under where the straps criss-crossed, and it took her a moment to adjust everything to where it needed to be. The cups were soft and lined, giving her breasts a little more coverage than the black silk did, for which she was grateful, although the deep dip in the front showed off just how much cleavage she didn’t have. The panties were the same soft cotton blend as the rest of it, with matching lace at the waist that stretched without digging into anything.

On the whole, now that she had it all on, it didn’t feel so bad. She had a sundress with the same sort of straps and clasp in the back, and aside from the length of the skirt it wasn’t that different. All in all it was actually comfortable enough to sleep in during the summer, she thought, which was sort of why she’d bought it in the first place. It made her wonder if Gold was going in some kind of order, working his way up to what he thought was the most risque and scandalous.

The robe was still on the hanger and she eyed it for a few seconds, trying to decide if she should put it on or not. It was part of what she’d purchased, and Gold had put it out with the nightie, but donning another layer meant she’d probably have to take it off. It was going to be a bit difficult to model the nightie if it was covered up with something else, but given how chilled she’d been last time, she thought she could get away with wearing it at least for a few minutes.

Sighing, she tied the sash of the robe at her waist and then eased open the door to peek into the hallway. Gold was still in the kitchen, if the clang of a pot being set in the sink was anything to go by, so she stepped out and hurried into the study. The doors were closed again, the fire roaring even bigger than last time, and she started to smile. It seemed he might have noticed that she was cold and made accommodations. It was strangely thoughtful, much as his invite to have dinner was, and she struggled to know what to make of all of it.

There was another noise from the kitchen, so she closed the doors quietly, and gave the room a more thorough going over. She’d been so nervous last time that all she’d noticed was the general layout of the room. Assuming she had a few minutes until Gold joined her, she took a leisurely stroll around the space, her eyes scanning all the shelves and walls filled with pieces from Gold’s various collections.

The china cabinet opposite Gold’s chair was lit up this time with two small lights mounted above the top shelf. Belle came to stand in front of it, attracted by the light glinting unusually off of something inside. Her eyes went wide when she saw each shelf was full. Two vases sat on the bottom with an ornate oil lamp between them, dishes painted with landscape scenes, a silver tray beside an array of delicate crystal figurines, and on the top shelf, just at her eye level was the strangest tea set she’d ever seen.

Thin white porcelain had been adorned with flowers, painted in such great detail and outlined in such a way that they looked three dimensional, as though they had been plucked out of a garden. They looked so delicate that the petals might fall free if they were touched, but each cup and saucer as well as the pot and the tray it sat on looked as if they had been broken into a hundred pieces and glued back together with liquid gold.

“Kintsugi.”

Gold’s voice startled Belle, and she backed away from the cabinet as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“What?”

His lips curved as he took a leisurely step towards her. “Kintsugi,” he repeated. “That’s what they call it.”

She looked from him to the tea set and back again, until he was standing next to her. “Kint - kintsu-gi?”

He nodded. “It means golden repair in Japanese, the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and gold dust.”

Her eyes widened. “Gold dust? Like actual gold?” He gave another nod, and she shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the cabinet, following one of the lines of gold as it trailed from the rim of a cup down through a red rose and over to meet another line that encircled the handle. “Sounds expensive.”

“But beautiful,” added Gold.

Their eyes met in the mirrored back of the cabinet, and Belle held her breath until he looked away and went on to explain how he came to find the set. It had been packed in newspaper in a cardboard box, set inside a bigger box marked FREE at an estate sale in Vermont. Most of the pieces were already broken or chipped in some way, but there were a few books he was interested in at the very bottom so he bought the entire lot. Months later, he came across the box again in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and had the idea to try his hand at repairing it in this way.

“So, you made this?” she asked, unable to suppress the surprise and wonder in her voice.

“Aye,” he said. His voice was low and very close to her ear, and she gripped the knot of the robe tightly. “I fixed all the bits that were already broken, filled in missing pieces with things I had laying around, and smoothed all the jagged edges with extra lacquer.”

Belle shook her head slowly. She couldn’t imagine the patience and care it must have taken to create something so unique and beautiful, particularly when it was incomplete. It was - pleasing, wonderful even, and once again she was struck by the strange dichotomy that was Storybrooke’s Mr. Gold.

“Is it - I mean can you actually, um, use it? Once it’s like this?”

He nodded, smiling crookedly. “The lacquer is made from the sap of a very specific tree, and the gold is dusted over it while it’s still wet and sealed inside, and once it’s all done and hardened, it’s perfectly safe to drink from. I’ve personally used that cup there.”

He pointed to the very cup Belle had been admiring, the one with the fine line splitting the red rose in two, and she smiled. “You made so much beauty out of something so broken.”

“Even chipped cups have some use, don’t they?”

His question surprised her, and she looked over to find him watching her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I think,” she said, “that in this case the best teacup is chipped.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and abruptly, he turned and crossed the room to the same chair he’d taken before. Belle blew out a slow breath, her mind spinning and struggling to wrap itself around the sudden shift from their conversation to the purpose of her being here. It was as if her reply had struck a nerve, but she wasn’t sure how.

She heard the creak of the leather as he sat, and after a long moment, she turned away from the china cabinet and its precious contents, and walked to the end of the ottoman. She licked her lips as her hands went to the knot of her robe, and lifted her eyes to his. The end of the sash pulled free easily, the pressure on her waist releasing as the two sides of the robe slid open. She swore she heard his breath hitch, the slight little hiccup and inhale of air, but he otherwise remained completely still as she shrugged her shoulders, sending the robe shimmying down her arms.

It landed on the ottoman behind her with a muted wisp, and she took another step forward. The edge of the nightie brushed her thighs, reminding her of how short it was, and she felt a heat that wasn’t from the fire creep up her neck. She bit her lip as her hands came up to her stomach and then dropped to her sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Gold meanwhile was just staring dazedly at her. His head lolled slightly to one side and then straightened, as one might when observing the way the light illuminated a work of fine art. The thought was absurd, and she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against the lace.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked softly. “Would you - would you like a drink?”

The question brought him out of the odd trance he’d been in, and he shifted in his seat before meeting her eyes. “Yes, a scotch please, Miss French.”

She turned and made her way around the end of the ottoman, crossing between it and the fireplace, feeling his eyes on her all the way to the bar. She was so grateful to be out of the heat for a minute that even the cold floor felt nice on her feet. For some reason the room was much warmer tonight than it had been last night, and she thought maybe she should say something about finding a happy medium.

Drink in hand, she walked back to stand closer to his chair, and held it out for him. He lifted his hand from where it was resting to take the glass by the bottom, keeping a sliver of a distance between where her fingers were around the rim and his. In doing so, he caught the hem of the nightie, and when he pulled the glass away and raised it to his lips, the hem went with it. It lifted slightly, just enough to feel a light flutter of air against her legs when it settled back into place. She stepped back immediately, conscious of the fact that it may have been enough for him to glimpse the matching panties underneath.

A shiver washed over her despite the flushing of her face, and she crossed her arms over her middle, her upper arms pushing her breasts together. Gold’s eyes dipped down, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip, just before he touched the glass to his mouth. She caught herself pressing her thighs together unconsciously as he sipped and swallowed, and took another step back until a blast of warmth from the fire made her stop.

“Thank you,” Gold said simply.

His expression was blank, as if nothing had occurred between them at all, and she knew that she was once again dismissed. Once again the abrupt change in his demeanor unsettled her, but she couldn’t give voice to any of the questions in her head. Instead, she gave him a short nod, and moved to leave, pausing to snatch up the robe before she all but ran from the study.

The bathroom was like an odd little oasis when Belle returned to it. She sighed at the cool air wrapping around her, calming her heated skin, and leaned back against the closed door, breathing slowly. The kintsugi, the conversation, the way he looked at her, she could make no sense of it. Whatever this was about for him, she couldn’t keep letting it affect her. She had to think of this weird arrangement as a job, nothing more. It was something she was doing for money - a lot of money, mind - but a paycheck all the same.

She blew out a breath and changed back into her clothes, deciding to leave the lingerie on the hanger again. If he wanted her to keep the items, then he could say so. She was tired of guessing his reasons and desires for any of this.

Gold was waiting for her when she opened the powder room door. He was standing with his cane, leaning a bit to the side as if he had to put most of his weight on it to keep himself upright, and holding a glass storage container with a plastic lid. She frowned at it as she lifted her purse strap onto her shoulder, and then looked up at him.

“For you,” he said, holding the container out for her to take.

Her eyes darted down to the offering as she reached for it hesitantly. “Okay...?”

“It’s lasagna. That’s - that’s what I made for dinner. I thought since you hadn’t eaten...” He shrugged.

“Oh.” Belle took the container from his hand and stared down at the lid. She could see a large square of something inside, with hints of red and creamy white. The scent of food still lingered in the air, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold let out a soft, short laugh, and shook his head. “It’s still warm, sort of, but I recommend putting the container in the oven and letting it come up to 350. That should heat it through.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane, and then added, “With the lid off, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated. Confused as to why he was giving her food, but pleased she wouldn’t have to make anything when she got home, she lifted her eyes to him. “Um, thanks.”

“No matter.”

He followed her to the door, holding her coat for her once more, and then bid her good night.

The walk home was comfortably cool, but smelling of fresh lasagna the entire way.

By the time Belle reached the door of her apartment, she was starving and had determined that this time the vague feeling of nauseous indigestion was from lack of food rather than anything that had transpired with Gold. He had been a gentleman about nearly everything, except for whatever those accidental brushes had been, and he cooked like he should have his own restaurant. The small touches were clearly accidental, and the odd sensation that came over this evening was easily ignored. If he did it again, she might consider saying something or changing her tactic of fetching his drink, but for now it was certainly more tolerable than half of the dates she’d had.

Garrett would have had his hand up her skirt in minutes, which was a thought that made her entire body cringe now that their relationship has ended so spectacularly.

As strange as it might seem, she was more intrigued by Gold than disturbed or repulsed. The story of the tea set was charming, and the fact that the person who could remake some useless, broken bits into something so pretty was the same as the person who offered her a deal to parade around his study in lingerie, left her head spinning. She wanted to know how that was possible, and thought that perhaps over the next few weeks she might find out.

He seemed perfectly willing to talk to her, revealing small clues here and there, but once he realized he had, he tried to close up again. She supposed some of that was part of how he maintained his enigmatic personality within the town, yet there was also the possibility that no one had ever bothered to take an interest in him before. Maybe he had no idea how to deal with that, maybe he had some of the same anxieties about social situations as she did, though in her case it had somehow turned into a peculiar ability to make friends easily. In his case it kept people at arm's length, much the same as his prim, fitted suits and colorful shirts portrayed a baffling combination.

She put the container of lasagna, sans lid, in the oven as instructed, and left it to warm up while she took a shower. This evening she didn’t feel dirty or uncomfortable, it was just the end of a long day and she was more than ready for a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The lasagna was, as expected, fantastic. The cheese wasn’t too thick or stringy, and the mozzarella had been mixed with something else that gave it a sharper, more aged flavor. In place of plain ground beef he’d used some kind of sausage that was just spicy enough to leave a lingering heat behind, but not too much that it burned, and the notes of fennel blended well the spice. He had been heavy on the fresh garlic and basil as well, which were probably her favorite parts. She was prone to using a bit too much of them herself, and she smiled as she shoved the last forkful in her mouth.

She contemplated asking him to add dinner to the deal, but that would make the whole arrangement feel like something it wasn’t. They weren’t dating, they weren’t friends; it was just a weird business transaction, needs and wants.

She needed money, and he was providing. Though what Gold wanted from any of it would likely remain a mystery.

Gold leaned back in his chair as he savored the last bit of his second glass of scotch.

Belle had been less nervous this time, perhaps because he’d spoken to her about the tea set. He hadn’t intended to do so, but the way she was looking at it was - indescribable, like the way she might look at a painting or sculpture by one of the old masters, with a kind of curious awe. What she’d said about the chipped cup was incidental, he knew it was not some kind of metaphor or anything, even if restoring the set had been far more personal for him than he’d let on. She seemed quite pleased with his story, and he wondered idly what she might say if he put it up for sale in his shop. Would she want to buy it? Would she use the money he’d paid her to have it?

If he closed his eyes, he knew he would be able to recall the moment perfectly, the soft flutter of the rosy fabric as it fell from her arms, exposing more beneath it. The brief brush of those fingers against her, the hint of the lacy panties hiding under the skirt, the same precious pink as the rest of it, made him shiver. He didn’t think she’d noticed, or if she had maybe she had assumed it was an accident. It was, partially, but instead of pulling away when he’d realized what he’d done, he’d continued, waiting to see if she would move first. She hadn’t; he didn’t know what that meant.

The nightie had a teasing, innocent look to it, but it bared more than it covered. He’d gotten an eyeful of her skin, so creamy and soft looking, supple if it were pressed, and flushed the prettiest pink in the warmth of the room. He wondered how else he might make her blush like that, and shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs as his own skin prickled with heat. He raised his hand, touching the fingertips that had touched her so briefly to his lips as his other hand moved to his waist, adjusting the pressure of his trousers and belt.

She had looked so beautiful tonight. Truthfully, she always did, but there was something about having her here, in his sanctuary, that made so much keener. A tingling throb twitched between his legs, and he gave in and pressed his palm to the front of his trousers, running the heel of it up and down his rapidly hardening cock. He couldn’t touch her again like that, couldn’t cross that line, no matter how much the image of her bare thighs tormented him.

Sighing, he forced his hand back to the arm of the chair and breathed slowly until his body calmed. As much as he wanted to take himself in hand and call to mind one of any number of fantasies, that was another line he couldn’t let himself cross. He was the monster they all said he was, in every way but that.

After a few minutes, Gold pushed to his feet, ignoring the lingering flush that crept up his neck and the ache low in his belly as he headed upstairs for another chilling shower.

( This is kintsugi. It's one of my favorite things and someday I too will have a tea set like in this fic. )

[solange-lol]

just doing my silly little tasks

words: 3,205

AUctober day 10: murder mystery

notes: MAJOR TW // graphic description of violence and murder, major character death (its an among us au)

read on ao3

—

Nico was on a ship with nine other crewmates hurtling through space when they got the message.

IMPOSTER ALERT came over the comms. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND EJECT MEMBERS IF NEEDED. 

Which was great. Nothing scarier than being in space than being in space with an “imposter”— whatever that means—  on board with them.

Nico went through the list of crewmates through his head. He talked to them all briefly while boarding, but for the most part, they trained separately and he since has been traveling the ship on his own. (To be fair, it was a big ship.) 

The issue was that none of them really seemed suspicious.

Percy Jackson, the first crewmate he met, just seemed excited to be there, and just followed around Annabeth Chase for the most part. He liked being around them, but they were such good of a team that Nico can’t imagine either of them would be the imposter being as close as they are. Same with Jason Grace and Piper McLean, who were less of a perfect duo but still stayed around each other, usually accompanied by Leo Valdez as well.

Nico knew Hazel Levesque going into it since they worked together before, so he was hoping it wasn’t her.  She was into witchy stuff though… Nico had met Frank Zhang through her as their mutual friend. And Reyna Ramirez-Arellano was crazy intimidating, but also the most honest person he’s ever met. 

The only person he didn’t know that much about is Will Solace. He was nice enough the first time they met that he didn’t even think twice about it, but now it made Nico wonder if possibly he was just trying to gain everybody’s trust. 

Nico decided to go about his tasks. They already set to turn around ever since that message, so perhaps if they could just prepare the ship for landing then everything would work out fine.

They met in the cafeteria, dividing and handing out tasks to fix the ship. Nico heads out once they do so, heading towards navigation to divert power over to the electrical. He knows for a fact that electrical not only is on the other side of the ship but also one of the darker and bigger rooms. All he can do is hope for no one to be around when he does.

Of course, that’s exactly where Will Solace was, sporting his bright yellow suit like the sun itself.

Nico considers turning around, but the last thing he wants to do is make him think that he’s the suspicious one here, so he continues onto the room.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Will turns around. Nico can see his eyes widen through the glass pane on his helmet.

“Oh god,” he takes a breath. “Please don’t kill me, I’m just trying to fix the wires.”

“It’s not me,” Nico says, then adds, “not that you would believe me just by me saying that.”

“Same. Not that you would believe me either,” Will nods, then turns back and opens the wire box. He resists the urge to lean over and check if he’s actually fixing them or just breaking them further, but Nico can only imagine that’ll just be his one-way ticket to death.

It doesn’t take long for him to divert the power, but Will finishes at the same time.

“How did you do that so quickly?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at the boy. 

Will shifts. “I originally wanted to be a surgeon. I’ve got really steady hands, which turns out to work just as well with small wires as it does with human organs.”

“Right…” Nico says slowly. He doesn’t know enough about Will yet to fully believe him, but the guy probably could have killed him already if he wanted. “What other tasks were you assigned?”

Will glances up, counting on his fingers. He stops at three,

“Align engine output, a few more wires, and clean the O2 filter. You?”

Nico racks his brain, trying to remember what Percy and Annabeth assigned him. “I have to go sign into admin, prime the shields, and do some other downloads, I think.”

Will tilts his head. “Why didn’t you go to admin first?”

Nico shrugs. “I was gonna do everything from the right side of the ship to the left.”

“But you came to electrical. That’s on the left.”

“Look, I don’t know,” he sighs. “I’m just trying to keep my chill and get everything done before we all get killed.”

“Alright, di Angelo, I’ll believe you,” Will decides. “But only if you accompany me to O2.”

“Scared?” Nico asks, nudging him. 

“Aren’t you?” “Like I said, trying to keep my chill.”

“A tough guy, I see,” Will says, finally nudging him back.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Let’s just head to admin.”

“Why not go left to right? I can align the engine first and then head the opposite direction?”

“Because I want to go right to left. Everyone is probably on the left side of the ship right now anyway.”

“Doesn’t that make it more dangerous?”

“Not if we’re together. Are you coming?” he asks, tired of Will’s questions. If they wanted to get off this ship alive, they were going to need to land as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming,” he says, shaking his head, although Nico can just barely see him grinning through his helmet.

They head to admin together, passing by Hazel in storage, who waves a single pink-gloved hand, a fuel canister in the other.

Arriving at admin together, Nico walks over to the desk and pulls out his ID card from one of his pockets. The card reader was especially finicky, as Nico found out after multiple failed attempts.

Too fast.

Too fast.

Card error.

Too slow.

“Nico?” Will murmurs quietly staring at the floor.  Nico’s chest tightens, hoping that he doesn’t think Nico is the imposter just because he can’t get the stupid card reader to work.

“Hold on, just give me a second.” Too fast.

“Nico...”

“I told you, I got it, just hold on!” Card error. Try again.

“Nico.”

“What?” he says finally, turning to face Will. “It’s not me, the card reader is just-”

He cuts off once he notices the body in front of them following Will’s line of sight.

The only way Nico knows it’s Jason Grace is from the lime-colored suit. Otherwise, it appears he’s been stabbed multiple times in the back. Literally in the back. 

“Is he…?” Will says slowly.

Nico reaches out, nudging him with his foot. The body doesn’t move. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess we gotta call a meeting or something.”

“Yeah. Probably before someone comes in here and sees us just staring at it.”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yeah… yeah.”

They leave the body in the room before calling everyone into the cafeteria where they had originally divided up tasks. Crewmates walk in, confused and concerned as they gather around the middle table.

“What’s up?” Frank asks.

“And should we wait for Jason?” Piper adds.

Nico grimaces. “That’s, um, that’s the thing actually. Jason is dead.”

Several ‘What?‘s echo around the room, followed by worried murmurs.

“We found the body in admin,” Will continues. “He was stabbed to death, judging by the wounds. 

“Was there anybody nearby?” Annabeth asks.

Nico hesitates. “Hazel was in storage underneath, but she was filling fuel.”

“Well, where was everybody else?” 

“I was in the reactor,” Piper says.

“And I was across in security,” Leo adds, tugging at his orange suit.

“Percy and I were in upper engine,” Annabeth defends.

“It’s true, me and Piper passed them.”

Reyna shrugs. “I was in O2. I didn’t see anyone else around, but I haven’t been it admin at all.”

“I’ve been in the cafeteria,” Frank says, nervously glancing around. 

“And Nico and I were in the electrical together,” Will adds.

Piper glances at Hazel, raising her eyebrow. “So Hazel was closest?”

Her eyes widen. “Wait, what? I was just filling the fuel like you asked!”

“But Will and Nico only saw you when they passed into admin,” Annabeth says. “Unless… they did it.”

“It wasn’t us,” Will raises his arms in surrender. “I swear, I was in electrical the entire time before Nico showed up, and he had just come from nav.”

Nico glances between all of them. His eyes eventually land on Hazel. It feels impossible that she could have been the one to kill Jason, but the facts line up. There wasn’t anyone else around…

Hazel notices him staring. Her eyebrows furrow from under her helmet. “Nico, you have to know it’s not me,” she pleads with him.

He clears his throat. “Should we skip the whole ejecting thing for now? Wait for more concrete evidence.”

“There’s no skipping with a killer on the loose, Nico,” Piper crosses her arms. “All in favor of ejecting Hazel?”

Hands go up around the table as Hazel meets her fate. Leo, Percy, Annabeth, and Piper, put their hands up. Nico’s relieved to see Will’s hand still down, along with Reyna and Frank.

“It’s a tie,” Annabeth announces.

“Then we’ll wait,” Nico says. “If something happens, we can vote for her after. We just need more evidence.”

They get dismissed to go back to their tasks, but before Will and Nico can even arrive at admin together so Nico can finish signing in, another meeting is called.

“I found Leo’s body in storage when I went back to finish filling the fuel tanks,” Hazel says grimly.

“Well, who else was around? We all just went back to where we were, right?” Annabeth asks, and everybody nods.

She turns to Hazel. “So it must have been a self-report type situation to make yourself look innocent.”

“No! I swear-” 

“All in favor?”

Hands go up again. This time, Reyna and Will both hesitantly put their hands up. Frank and Nico say nothing.

“Majority vote,” Piper says, then grabs Hazel’s arm.

Nico turns around when they push her out.

Once everyone is dismissed again, Nico can hear footsteps behind him as he attempts to head back to admin. He freezes, but it’s just Will catching up to him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, trying to grab Nico’s hand, but he pulls away.

“I don’t know, we just ejected someone who was possibly innocent out of the ship and everyone was just okay with it. I don’t know how you could expect me to be okay.”

Will sighs. “I get it. But there was a pretty good chance she was the imposter, right? Everyone else was with someone except for Reyna and Frank.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry, di Angelo,” Will says, stepping closer and lacing their gloved fingers together. “I’ll protect you.”

Nico raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t pull away. It is oddly comforting to walk around with him.

He finally signs into admin, and then the two head off, doing all their tasks on the right side of the ship. So far, no signs of any dead bodies, which makes Nico wonder if maybe it was Hazel.

That is, until they’re passing through storage, heading to finish tasks on the left side of the ship, when suddenly the lights start flashing, and an automated countdown starts around them.

OXYGEN DEPLETED IN 30… 29… 28…

“Shit!” Will curses, unwinding their hands. Immediately, panic courses through Nico’s body. Imposter or not, if they can’t fix this, they’ll all be dead in a matter of minutes.

“You head to admin and put in the code from there, I’ll run to O2. Meet up in the cafeteria, okay?” 

“Got it!” Will says, and they dash off in opposite directions. All thoughts of the imposter forgotten, Nico runs as fast as he can towards the O2 room. He passes Frank as he’s doing so, who’s staring at one of the downloading screens and completely ignoring the flashing lights overhead.

Huh…

He doesn’t have enough time to think about that, though. When he arrives at O2, he notices a blue figure squatting down in front of the oxygen machine.

“Are you?” he asks, and Percy turns his head, nodding.

“Yeah,” he says in a rushed breath, then gestures towards a post-it on the wall. “I’ve almost got it, I just need the code. Can you…?”

Nico grabs the post-it, reading off the code written. “267983”

Percy punches in the number code and hits enter. After a moment, the lights stop flashing, and the countdown stops.

Nico lets out the breath he was holding. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” Percy agrees, nodding. “I gotta go find Annabeth. I told her to head to admin while I would go to O2.”

“That’s the same thing I told Will.”

They head to the cafeteria together, still heavy breathing after their near-death experience. When they get there, they almost run straight into Will, who’s coming out of admin. Nico resists the urge to hug him, instead opting to just lean into his side.

Percy nods at the blonde. “Did Annabeth help you?” he asks.

Will blinks. “What do you mean?”

“In admin. I told her to go there while I went to O2.”

Nico feels Will’s body tense. “I was the only one in there…” he says. Nico sees the realization cross Percy’s face, before the boy dashes off, Nico and Will right on his heels.

It’s not long before they find Annabeth’s body, blood splattering the white suit as she lays limp just like how Jason was.

“Percy…” Nico says slowly, watching as his eyes darken.

Another meeting was called.

“Who now?” Frank asks grimly.

Percy says it so quietly that Nico almost doesn’t hear him. “Annabeth.”

“Wait, where’s Reyna?”

“Oh,  I saw her in navigation,” Piper says, then backtracks. “Well, I found her in navigation. I was about to call it, but I guess Percy beat me to it.”

“Two in one go?’ Will asks nervously, pulling at his gloves. 

Percy crosses his arms. “Well, it had to be either you or Frank. And I told her to head to admin, which is where you were.”

Will backed up. “Woah, woah, but I stayed in admin until O2 was fixed!:

“Right, right, it just so happens her body was right outside of admin as well.”

“But I left storage!” “Doesn’t mean you didn’t go back.” “I didn’t! I was the only one in there fixing O2!”

Nico’s head swivels back and forth, not knowing who to believe. On one hand, he’s been with Will the entire time. If Will wanted to kill him, he had multiple chances to already.

But on the other hand, Annabeth was headed there…

“Wait, no!” he interrupts, suddenly remembering what he saw on his way to O2. “I’ve been with Will this entire time! And there was someone else in storage,” he says, turning to face Frank.

Percy follows suit. “Frank?”

“When I was headed to O2, I noticed he was still downloading, even while the lights were flashing,” Nico accuses. If Piper found Reyna, Will was fixing O2 in admin, and he was with Percy, it has to be Frank, right?

“I left, like, right after you passed, I swear!” Frank defends.  “I saw Annabeth headed to admin and you headed to O2, so I figured I would just finish the download and then go check if you guys needed help.”

“You saw Annabeth?” Piper asks, crossing her arms just like Percy. 

Frank’s eyes widen under his helmet, realizing the corner he’s backed himself into. “Yes, I saw her, but then I left, I swear-”

“All in favor?” Nico asks.

All hands go up.

Once Frank was ejected, Will catches up with Nico again, as the two hesitantly head to the left side of the ship. 

“If we just finish out tasks, we can land and get out of here,” Nico says, glancing behind him. Will nods in agreement, also silent. Whatever was between them before has now disappeared, replaced with fearful tension.

The two make their way through the tasks on the left side, aligning engine outputs and fixing the rest of the wires. Nico finishes his last task, adjusting his gloves. “That’s it, right? We should be good to land?” he asks Will, who is staring at the engine.

“Yeah, um, here’s the thing,” he says, and Nico can see his face turning red even through the glass of the helmet. “Remember that wire task I was doing in electrical when you found me? I never actually finished it…”

Nico groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!” Will says. “You just finished yours so quick I was worried you would kill me! I wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t you until Leo died. We just have to go back and do that one last set, and then we can land.”

Nico sighs. “I mean, it’s not like we have a choice.”

They arrive at the electrical together, and he tries to ignore his pounding heart as Will opens the box, fixing the last two wires inside. The longer it took, the harder it felt like his heart was pumping until he could practically hear it.

Unless… that wasn’t his heart he was hearing.

Nico turns to the source of noise, heavy thumps coming from the vent next to where Will was working. It definitely sounded like someone was crawling through, and they were getting closer.

“Will, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

It was too late. Just as Will turns to face him, a person in a red-clothed suit pops out of the vent and grabs his body, pulling him close.

“‘Sup, Nico?” Piper grins, then snaps Will’s neck.

DEFEAT.

Will frowns. “I don’t like this game very much,” he says as Piper’s character appears on screen, the red letters fading on screen for everybody except Piper’s phone.

“You hate this game? I always get killed first,” Jason sighs. 

Piper kicks his chair playfully. “That’s ‘cuz you’re an easy target, Jas.”

“If you had just finished that one task, Will, we could have won!” Annabeth groans.

Will makes a noise of protest, and Nico just snuggles closer to his boyfriend on the couch in Percy’s living room where they had all gathered that night. He was silently proud of himself for technically surviving until the end, even if his imminent death was implied.

“Piper came out of nowhere. I swear I thought it was Hazel,” Leo shakes his head. “She kept giggling, I thought it’s because she was murdering a bunch of people.”

Hazel smiles like she can’t help it. “It’s just funny the way they run around. They don’t have arms!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust Hazel when she’s not smiling,” Reyna says.

Percy shakes his head. “We should have known it was Piper. It’s always red.”

“I take offence to that statement on behalf of everyone who mains red.”

They continue bantering back and forth, and Nico feels Will’s hand land on his knee right where his jeans tear, sending electric currents through his body. 

Defeat or not, there’s nothing about this moment he wouldn’t change.

Will leans down, kissing Nico on the cheek, and Nico smiles as he holds up his phone. “Anyone up for another round?”

—

solangelo tag list (message to be added/removed)

@anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows​ @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon​ @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @hetapeep41 @blavk-dahlia 

[chibi-writes]

i thought this blog was bigger !!! Especially since your first post was so good! may I request general dating hcs for azul, vil, and kalim?

Anon how did you know who I simp for? Yes, Dating headcanons coming right up! The Azul one is just me being caught simping. 

Azul Ashengrotto

- bby boi

- bby octo boi

- hold gentle like burger

- He soft. But he won’t let you know that.... Well, not when people are around anyways.

- You spend a lot of time at Monstro Lounge, usually not too far away from Azul. You’re his emotional support when he’s stressed

- Dates are pretty fun. I can see him working with what he has at the school, admiring Monstro Lounge’s aquarium while eating and chatting, quiet time in his room with a movie or something, simple stuff speaks the loudest with him.

- Speaking of simple stuff, I can see Azul being the type to do simple forms of affection. Hand holding under the table if he’s stressed, butterfly kisses, small goodbye hugs whenever he leaves the room, even if he’s gone for just minute.

- I want to say he’s the type to treat every moment like it’s last with small and simple forms of saying ‘I love you’ without saying it.

- Also 100% blushes every time he says ‘I love you’ out loud. 

- The longer the relationship lasts, the more Azul’s walls erode with each passing day. He might become more bold in his displays of affection. Kisses become more bold, turning into a game of tag it seems. Hugs are less fleeting, he stays there longer, taking in the present with every breath. Hand holding becomes more prominent to those around you, saying ‘Yes I love them, deal with it’. 

- As time goes on and on, he will become comfortable enough where, to him, he sense no fear of judgement. Even comfortable enough to reveal a softer and much more vulnerable side to him. Maybe even his merform after some time. 

- Please be gentle, his heart has broken enough. 

- Overall 10/10 soft.

Kalim Al Asim

- BBY BOI

- Baby boi who soft with everyone but like especially you

- He is soft for you and he will let the whole world know that

- Spoils you rotten. Not with gifts though. (Okay, well he gets you gifts and stuff but like hear what I have to say) He spoils you with affection. Physical, verbal, gifts, acts of service you name it. 

- There will be very few days in your life that won’t have some sort of surprise or adventure just around the corner!

- Although there are days where you and Kalim just. Chill. Cuddle in silence on his bed while attempting to as quietly as possible tickle the other. A moment to talk, tell jokes and just. Be.

- And then on other days, Kalim is hopping around like a bunny on coffee.

- PDA a-ok! 

- Magic Carpet dates. Nuf said

- A Whole New WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

- Okay, but like- Water Fights. Just water fights. Soak the boy. Incorporate magic. That’ll be fun. And give Jamil a fckin heart attack.

Vil Schoenheit

- p

- Pretty-

- Pretty boi

- pretty sof boi

- but like not sof

- Vil strikes me as the kind who, in public, would let everyone know you are his, but such a subtle way that doesn’t make inappropriate, but like, EVERYONE FCKING KNOWS

- Also, spa days together. Pamper yourself, but with beauty benefits! (sounds like the perfect date to me lol)

- would insist on doing your makeup at least once a week. Not even to go out, just to kinda play around with what makeup can do at 10 o clock at night.

- couple photo shoots. Not just professional ones. Just laughing and posing while Rook is the photographer. Tons of fun.

- Okay, but.... Gardening dates. I believe Vil canonly has a garden full of poisonous flowers, but like. idk why? that’s such an attractive idea to me??? Like garden dates, just tending to flowers and looking upon your collected efforts at the end of the day... idk maybe I’m just a sucker for simple dates but also.... plausible.

- Epel just kinda goes ‘You my parent! Oogie Woogie Oogie!’

[solacefruit]

Not an ask from the ask game - but do you mind explaining how you came up with some of your worldbuilding for MAMS?

- The Elders arranging pairings for genetic fitness

- the winds

- Housekeeper names

And which piece of worldbuilding has you feeling the most of that 'smug these things fit together in a logical and intriguing way I haven't seen much of elsewhere' feeling?

Hello there! I don’t mind explaining the thought process behind these, so sure, I’m happy to chat a bit about these world-building features. This will all go under a readmore as usual, so answers below!

The elders’ role.

It’s my opinion that elders would be highly valued in every clan, although their specific duties and cultural role might vary. Even before I started writing fanfiction for Warriors I always intended to give elders significant political and cultural weight, and I had a collection of little thoughts about how that might look like. For many years, one of the things I knew Windclan elders did was essentially host a micro-democratic system--i.e., they would vote on issues after a long debate, so as to give each cat an equal voice in the final decision. 

Some elements of Windclan life are decided exclusively by the elders in this way, and the arrangements are one of those elements. The arrangements came out of two thoughts for me: the first being that Wind (the founder) is a mother and a leader simultaneously, which I felt set a precedent for Windclan to allow mollies to have litters and hold power; and the second being the canon visitors to Windclan, whose purpose there was very unclear and honestly not really plasuible to me. In canon, they just come chill for a while and there’s not really any benefit to Windclan allowing them to do so. 

So from those two thoughts, I went: okay, what do the visitors offer the clan that would incentivise Windclan to invite them back every single year? And the answer is fresh bloodlines, particularly as the cats of the visiting group change so frequently as they are joined by newcomers. Likewise, I considered what impact it would have for Windclan to have a leader who also had experience raising kittens, and the answer was that she had the insight to know an insular, unmoving clan would not last. Hence why she also came to an accord with the barn cats of the nearby farmlands.

The combination to those two factors made it clear to me that Windclan’s tolerance--and even enthusiasm--for the visitors came from early in their history as a failsafe against inbreeding, and it seemed right to me that the elders--who long ago would probably have been Wind’s closest friends, the cats who helped take on some responsibility while she raised her litter--are the ideal thinktank for tracking bloodlines and deliberating on appropriate matches for warriors. It seemed like a neat and realistic solution for several problems. 

The nine winds. 

I knew I wanted to include a significant and unique element of Windclan culture in m.a.m.s. because it’s the ideal environment to do so, being a bigger story than my previous ones. The nine winds developed out of both Doylist and Watsonian interests for me. 

The Doylist (in-universe) reason is that canon suggests Windclan views themselves as intensely spiritual because of their position as closest to the stars and/or Moonstone (?)--but that didn’t really click with me, because all the clans feel they have a deeply personal, powerful relationship with Starclan. I felt there had to be more to their everyday relationship and “we sleep under the stars” doesn’t actually cut it for me as a notable cultural practice that justifies that feeling of connection. I wanted to be true to Windclan’s sense of being in conversation with Starclan, in a way that most suited their lifestyle and territory. Hence, the wind as divine messenger. 

The Watsonian (out-of-universe) reason is that I considered Windclan’s supposed connection to Starclan and stars, and then I thought of astrology, and then I thought of “what if astrology but actually interesting and potentially valuable?”, and then I devised the nine winds. Sorry to anyone who finds astrology fun or valuable, but for me, I don’t really find it compelling conceptually because (and obviously this is a super basic, watered down definition, forgive me) it is predominantly about explaining who you are based on when + where you were born and accounting for why you act or feel the way you do.  

That feels stagnant to me, so I wanted to take the concept of astrology and go, “what if it tells you who you can/should become?” and that felt very right and much more in line with stories I like to tell. I loved the idea of life as a work-in-progress, nebulously guided by ancestors, and I enjoy the difficulty in disproving the nine winds: either the wind is right because you could stand to be more x, or the wind is right because you became very x (as you should have). An emphasis on interpretation was important too, so that each cat has a personal relationship with 1. their own harbinger and 2. the day-to-day movements of the wind generally. 

As a side-note, I was also aware that systems of categorisation--Hogwarts houses or whatever else--are very appealing to readers, and I had a feeling people would go a little wild for the nine winds as a concept. I’ve so far been pretty good at predicting what it is that people really like in my work, especially as far as world-building goes, and it always makes me excited when I know I’ve about to share something new that I think everyone will go a bit mad for. 

Housekeeper names.

I wanted to achieve a few things with Cypress in m.a.m.s., and one of them was that I really wanted his relationship with Talltail to develop out of a cultural miscommunication that only becomes visible to both parties in hindsight. In the end, of course the relationship is very real, but from Cypress’ perspective, I needed something to push him to take the leap into the unknown, because I felt just curiosity and a desire for adventure weren’t quite enough to make him leave the comfort and safety of his home. But a noble, handsome traveller who turns up on his doorstep with interesting stories and a quest, who almost at once offers his name to Cypress in gratitude for his hospitality? The boy thought he’d fallen directly into a cat romance novel. 

I also felt that the sacred secret of one’s name is a super interesting cultural counterpoint to the clans, whose names and naming system exist to be known and as a way to identify each other. I got the idea initially from Old Possum’s Book of Cats, actually, a long long time ago, and have always found the thought of every cat (and particularly pet cats) having a private name pretty delightful--especially as kind of this last fierce independence, the one thing that is theirs and theirs alone. 

Personally, I also just love any kind of ritualised social conduct--another reason I love court intrigue. The sharing--or not sharing--of names has so many subtle little ramifications, and while I didn’t explore those in m.a.m.s. I love to think about it. 

And which piece of worldbuilding has you feeling the most of that 'smug these things fit together in a logical and intriguing way I haven't seen much of elsewhere' feeling?

I think they all go together really well and a lot of what makes this story feel unique is the combination of all these little things happening concurrently--or at least that’s my theory! I think of all the things I’ve written in m.a.m.s. the nine winds are probably the most intriguing, though, by virtue of implying much but sharing only a fragment of the whole? But that’s just a guess. 

I think the nine winds as a concept is the thing that is most specifically a me creation and probably the most unlikely to have been developed independently by someone else, so I’ll go with that! Admittedly I very rarely read Warriors fanfiction, so I can’t be sure, but I don’t think there’s anything quite like what I’m doing out there at the moment. 

Frankly if there was, I like to think I’d already know about it, because I’d be their biggest fan. Thank you for asking, and I hope these answers are interesting!

[cienie-isengardu]

The Development of Law and Zoro relationship: Wano, Luffy & Zoro Means Troubles…

<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard: The Alliance (A)__(B)>>  <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>> <<Part V: Zou, The Kindred Spirits (Traveling Together)__(Searching for Nakama)__ (Reunion)__ (Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance)__(The Last Moments before War)>>  Part VI: Wano, Against Emperors (The Untold Journey)__(Luffy & Zoro Means Troubles…)__(...and Law Is Not Happy About That) 

Somehow the alliance got into Wano without enemy notice. There, Kinemon separated his allies into smaller teams, all with their own task at hand. Surprising, during the little flashback of that moment (chapter 909), Law was not seen when the samurai explained situation to Straw Hats:

Kinemon warned Straw Hats they “must pass yourselves off as locals and quietly, quietly go about your duties”. He gave pirates an individual roles:

➣ Zoro, as ronin, Usopp as street salesman and Robin, as geisha, were supposed to infiltrate capital and gather either informations or allies there

➣ Franky, as an apprentice, worked under carpenter who built Kaido’s mansion, in hopes to gain plans of enemy fortress, so the alliance could learn its arrangement before the raid.

➣ Law and Heart Pirates (as far as we were shown at that moment) stayed with samurais in the ruins of the Oden Castle in Kuri region and were stealing food and water from the enemy.

Chapter 918 notes Law was aware about Zoro’s role, however when and how he was informed is not clear. The lack of one of alliance leaders during the meeting between Kinemon and Straw Hats raises questions such as why Trafalgar wasn’t present and did samurai decide to keep knowledge about Zoro, Robin, Franky and Usopp and their tasks to themselves? On one hand, it makes sense. Secrecy was important to secure their plan as best as possible - a matter that will play a bigger role in the upcoming chapters; the less people knew what Straw Hats would be doing, the better chance to avoid information leak. But at the same time, if Law was informed about at least Zoro’s job, why not let him take part in the meeting? Unless he did learn about Zoro’s task after Pirate Hunter became an infamous wanted man, but about that more in a moment.

We may only wonder why Kinemon decided to keep Heart Pirates with himself, instead of sending them straight away undercover like Straw Hats. There are few reasons that could have influenced his decision:

➣ Law’s powers were useful for stealth and stealing. 

➣ The two Supernovas serving Kaido - Hawkins Basil and X-Drake - actually came from North Blue, the same as Trafalgar. How well they knew each other is up to debate, but since all three went to the Grand Line at the same time, it makes sense they at least had some basic knowledge about each other. Which may be a reason why Law stayed with Kinemon instead of playing a similar role to Zoro. 

➣ Another possibility is that Straw Hats could be simply better at pretending to be locals and/or had needed skills. In case of Zoro, the little details presented in manga and SBS suggest he grew up influenced by samurai culture due to his (still not explored) connection to the Shimetsuki clan.

Unfortunately, Zoro - working under the name of Zorojuurou - couldn’t continue his mission, because he killed a corrupt magistrate and most likely other samurais present at that time, thus became an outlaw. Since the knowledge about “murderous ronin” was spread in the whole country, it may explain why (how) Law learned about Zoro’s secret mission. 

Wandering through the wasteland, Zoro met Luffy who finally arrived in Wano.

Luffy barely got to Kaido’s country and he already befriended a local little girl, Tama, who due to poisoned water, fell ill. Straw Hat decided to take her to the nearest village, to seek help. On his way, he met Zoro who at the same time just saved Tsuru (another native person) from bad guys. Soon after that both got into a fight with Basil Hawkins and the Beast Pirates.

Once they managed to run away from pursuit and got into the relatively safe Okobore Town, Straw Hats were noticed by Bepo, Sachi and Penguin, who observed the area from a nearby mountain on which Oden Castle was built.The mentioned Heart Pirates were worried that Straw Hats could start some troubles (chapter 913).

In the end, Heart Pirates decided to not interfere… at least until they saw that Zoro and Luffy were heading into Bakura Town controlled by Kaido’s men and immediately notified Law (chapter 914).

↪ Law was chilling out lying on the ground. It seems he likes resting (or maybe napping?) in his free time, what was already seen before time-skip, when Trafalgar lied on Polar Tang’s deck, using Bepo as a pillow. Maybe Law has problems with irregular sleep (or lack therefore) and/or using Ope Ope no Mi exhausted him so much that, like Zoro, he needs to regenerate his energy by napping/lying down? 

↪ The same as Zoro, Law was surprised by Luffy’s presence in Wano but the similarity ends there. Zoro was delighted when he met Luffy and although he passed on the Kinemon’s warning, he wasn’t much bothered by how they together caused new trouble for the alliance. In contrast, Law wasn’t happy at all. He literally switched from chilling out into full stress/angry mode in less than a few seconds. 

↪ Law immediately and correctly assumed Luffy was going to wreck the havoc. It seems the previous experiences gained in Dressrosa have already borne fruit: Luffy and Zoro together, in enemy land, were bad news. 

↪ The most surprising thing about Law’s reaction is how he called both Luffy and Zoro as “those idiots”. Mainly because at first he was solely angry at Luffy and the prospect of him ruining the plan and then included Zoro as the potential danger. Which in perspective wasn't an irrational reaction and again, Dressrosa proved these two can’t be trusted with following any plan or common sense. Yet at the same time this sharp reaction gives the vibe that Law was for some reason angry at Roronoa (about that more soon). What contrasts with the good relationship they had during the previous arc. 

Law wanted to minimize potential damage done by Luffy and Zoro but was delayed by Bepo, who suddenly felt sick due to eating fish from a poisoned river (chapter 916).

↪ Law here was fully aware of poisoned food and water, he even warned his crew about it. Surprising, Zoro didn’t have any idea about the ecological situation of Wano and both men spent the same amount of time in this country. Either Zoro did not listen to the warning of others OR that matter comes after he left Kinemon’s hideout. In case of latter, it may suggest there was little to no contact between Zoro and other members of the alliance once he became a wanted man. To be fair, Kinemon himself got sick after eating poisoned food, so the revelation about poison could not be known before Straw Hats went undercover.

↪ Another little detail, Bepo felt sick after eating poisoned fish. Zoro, who ate poisoned meat most likely for days, got only some stomach ache, but nothing to stop him from fighting. Law’s tolerance for such poison is unknown, mainly because Ope Ope no Mi would help him remove the toxin from body and, in contrast to Zoro and Bepo, he has knowledge and common sense to not eat poisoned things.

↪ Also, apparently Law has a soft spot for Bepo, the only animal crewmember - another trait he shares with Zoro who himself has a soft spot for Chopper. Trafalgar let Bepo’s sickness delay him when the situation was dire, knowing full well leaving Luffy and Zoro unsupervised for too long was asking for big trouble.

Once his crew member noted that Basil Hawkins was heading to Bakura Town and there already was a fire, Law was pretty shocked by the disturbing change of events.

Despite the pledging of Bepo(?) to not leave him behind, Law finally rushed into town. He didn’t have a clue what was really happening there but attacked the just arrived Hawkins in order to eliminate the threat. As in, eliminate anyone who could recognize him or Straw Hats (chapter 917).

➽ Law actually tried to be sneaky and covered his head with special headgear/straw hat to hide his identity. What suggests he was aware that Basil may recognize him and Straw Hat Supernovas. At the same time, Law is, well, really bad at playing undercover. On Dressrosa he wore jacked with CORAZON on his back alluding to late Donquixote Rosinante but that fight was personal matter and most likely wanted Doffy to know what the fight was all about.  In Wano, he didn’t have that excuse; the fight with Kaido wasn’t his personal quest for vendetta. And yet Law’s idea of hiding his own identity was wearing a kimono with his Jolly Roger on it. Very smart. What may support the theory why Kinemon kept him with himself rather than sending undercover. Law is just bad at this gig and thinking more about it, I don’t remember any time when Trafalgar even bothered to try speak like people of Wano - something that Zoro and Luffy actually have adopted to some extent.  

To take down another Supernova, Law needed using Ope Ope no Mi. The characteristic power and tattoos very soon betrayed his true identity. Law planned to take down Basil, so the man couldn’t report to Kaido about the Heart-Straw Hat pirate alliance. At the same time, Law put faith in Roronoa who knew the plan that he “wouldn’t be stupid enough to let Holdem get crushed” (chapter 918). What implies that despite referring to Zoro as the “idiot” and general pessimistic attitude, Law still assumed Zoro’s presence would be enough to stop Luffy before the worst could happen.

➽ Once again, Law was addressing Zoro as “Roronoa”,instead by his name. Which departs from information published in SBS vol. 72 explaining what Law calls the various members of Straw Hat crew. Back then, Zoro and Nami were the only two allies he called by first name instead of surname or nickname:

In the case of Nami (whose surname was never revealed), it makes sense to use her given name yet Zoro was the only one male ally Law addressed in such a way. Even Luffy, who from a narrative standpoint is the closest person to Trafalgar, is constantly called Straw Hat-ya. Why the special approach to Zoro and why change it right now? The most likely reason for the switch of speaking pattern was Law’s anger (but about that more in next chapter). Anyway, an interesting detail, how Law’s way to call Zoro is related to his mood and/or stress level.

➽ Law proved to be good tactician, but at the same it seems he always assume the worst scenario to happen. Which I guess is one of the main reasons Trafalgar is always so stressed? In contrast, Zoro usually takes bad news calmly - he doesn’t like them, but he has a habit of leaving things to luck/fate instead of overthinking all possible solutions and outcomes. The difference in planning (or lack therefore) could make Zoro and Law clash with each other albeit so far, we saw little to nothing in that regard.

Sadly for Law, Zoro did not stop Luffy from beating Holdem. He wasn’t happy that Luffy did it, but didn’t regret it either. Law, on other hand, was angry and/or stressed by the situation, especially when Basil admitted he already met Straw Hats.

➽ Again, Law thought about Luffy and Zoro as “those idiots”. To be fair, he had a good reason to be angry because of course, Straw Hats wrecked havoc that was reported to Jack - the Beast Pirate responsible for poisoning Mink on Zou - and in result, exposed alliance presence in Wano.

The fight between Law and Basil was then unexpectedly stopped by a speeding cart of stolen food. Stolen by no one other than Zoro and befriended samurai Kiku. Roronoa was nice enough to call the fighting men to get out of their way… once again, Law was shocked by the turn of events. 

The fight between Law and Hawkins was stopped; Law didn’t manage to eliminate the enemy nor prevent information leakage about alliance presence in Wano. He almost was run over by a speeding cart with stolen food (another “crime” against Orochi & Kaido, which Straw Hats committed in his absence). No wonder why Law was so pissed of at Zoro.

About that more in next chapter: ...and Law Is Not Happy About That