#happy ending i am doing rituals for u please come soon

[causenessus]

eggy you're so amazing and talented i am constantly hitting the tag limit everytime I reblog your works </33 i had to delete my tag saying yn was VERY valid for telling kageyama to suck her dick

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter five -> the move

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 3.8k

now playing: school shooter by wych elm

warnings: this chapter is heavy with discussions of abuse, violence, other themes already discussed in this story, divided this last chapter in two parts and this is going to be the angst before the happy ending. when i say angst i mean angst. rest assured happy ending is coming tho

Her well-organized list of problems has been upended. A bright, shiny new problem has outshone all of her other ones, dimming them, displacing them, reducing their need for attention.

Problem #1: Iwaizumi Hajime, neighbor, definite arms-dealer, maybe boyfriend, has been arrested.

It’s hard to get people to listen to you in a police station. Cops sit at their little desks and they look at you like they’re pretending to pay attention to what you’re saying but really, all they can think about is how much better than you they think they are, and how little they care about your problems.

Matsukawa has a hand over her shoulder, not firm but not lose, like he’s ready to pull her back down to her feet if she leans too far over the front counter. She’s trying to appeal to the lady behind the front desk, (as if there’s anything she could actually do), voice raw and shaky, knuckles going white as she grips at the edge of the counter.

“Please,” she begs, her unhidden desperation feeling out of place in the clean station, where the smell of hand sanitizer and pine floor cleaner is heavy in the air. It’s far too bureaucratic for her to be like this; reduced to a pile of tears and snot, begging and pleading and being ignored like a small child throwing a fit. “He didn’t do anything to me. This is fucking insane, lady.”

“Honey,” she says, voice slathered in condescension, like she knows. Like she knows Iwaizumi’s been treating her like shit this whole time and she’s just been too stupid to realize it. Like she knows what’s best for her just because she sits behind the front desk at a police station for eight hours five days a week for semi-not shit pay and a pension. “If you want to help your boyfriend, the best thing you can do is get him a lawyer, okay? Yelling at me isn’t going to help. They can hold him for forty-eight hours, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

God, she wants to reach over this fucking desk and sink her nails into this lady’s face. Dig under her skin and gather evidence so they know it was her that did it. That desk lady’s sickly-sweet tone and fake pity had driven her to madness. A long-buried thirst for violence that makes her feel like a grade-school girl boils in her blood and it’s like Matsukawa can sense it because it’s then that his hand goes tight around her shoulder, and he pulls her back. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, relaxed politeness sounding natural on him. “We appreciate your help.”

She doesn’t appreciate her help. She doesn’t appreciate shit. She wants to jump over the counter and make that known, but Matsukawa grabs at her arms and tugs, using a bit more force to get her away from that desk. But she makes a point to turn her head and shoot that lady one more rage-filled sneer.

Matsukawa doesn’t let her go until he’s pulled her out the front door, into the sidewalk of a busy city street. But he has no qualms about stopping her there, a dam in the middle of the sidewalk, foot traffic splitting and flowing around them. He grabs her by both of her shoulders. “Okay, you need to calm down. Like right now. Alright?”

Her teeth grind together. “I want to pop her fucking eyes out,” she spits out, like an unrepentant child, unashamed of her outburst.

“Well, that’s not going to do anything to help, so don’t fucking do that,” Matsukawa says, a bit of a bit in his voice and slightly shaking her shoulders. The air surrounding them is suffocating, hot and humid and beads of sweat are popping up on the back of her neck already. “And she’s right. There’s nothing we can do but get him a lawyer.”

She doesn’t look at Matsukawa. She hates him right now, because he’s right, and there’s nothing her blind rage and outburst can do to make it better. She focuses her stare just past him, watching the stream of tourists and college students and burdened employees that drifts down the sidewalk, past both of them. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “Whatever.”

He releases her then, and her gaze falls to her shoes as Matsukawa steps back from her. A hand reaches up to push stray strands of hair away from his forehead. “Oikawa’s calling his guy. He should be down here soon. We’ve gone through this before, we know what to do. Iwa’s not an idiot, he can handle himself in there.”

The combination of rage and embarrassment tastes sour in the back of her throat. “He didn’t do it,” she asserts, for no one else other than herself.

“Course he didn’t fucking do it,” Matsukawa scoffs. “Iwa has lines. Hitting his girl is way past them.”

Her mouth furls. It’s getting hotter and hotter every second there on that sidewalk. Every emotion feels too big for her body; it paralyzes her. She hates this. She fucking hates this. Iwaizumi being locked in some holding cell with the drunken disorderly conduct leftovers from the night before. Him being in there because of her.

Matsukawa sees her standing there, stiff and clenched up, and sighs. “Look,” he starts off, more sympathetic than before, and the pity makes her twitch, “why don’t you just come back to mine and Makki’s place for now? You don’t have to go-“

And then, the call of her name. Loud enough to get the attention of everyone on that sidewalk. Commanding enough that people look, just to make sure, just to double check that it’s not their name, that they didn’t make a mistake, somehow. She looks over Matsukawa’s shoulder and sees her father. Out in the open, on the sidewalk.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says as he approaches, broad smile sending a new rush of rage down her spine. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t dare to tear her eyes away from her father, looking clean in his freshly pressed uniform. Like this is some kind of special occasion for him. “I was worried help wouldn’t get to you in time.”

She blinks. There’s no room for fear in her body. “Help?” she echoes back, voice hoarse.

He moves to reach for her. She steps back, Matsukawa places himself in front of her. “When I saw how that boyfriend of yours was treatin’ you, I had to call in a favor. I got a friend that works in this district, y’know. I got lots of friends, Bug.”

Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. She feels stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

But she didn’t think of it. She wasn’t expecting it. She was completely caught off guard by her god-awful, piece of shit father.

So she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

She reaches into her pocket and fishes out her keys. A few for the sports store. Three for her apartment building (one for the front door, one for her place, and one for Iwa’s), and one to her old home she shared with her brother. She places them each between her fingers, and without very much hesitation, she punches the end of those keys into her father’s face, with as much force is left inside of her.

Pretty immediately, there’s a reaction from the stream of people. Screams, she thinks. Matsukawa’s quick to act, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away from her now-bleeding father. But everything around her is white noise. She's numb to it. She looks at her father and she hopes the gashes will scar. “You piece of shit!” she screams at him. “I’ll fucking kill you! You fucker! You’re fucking dead!”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Her list is fucked now. She doesn’t know where rage issues fall in the new order. But probably higher than before, she would have to guess, because she’s sitting in an interrogation room.

Kageyama Tobio sits across from her, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and arms crossed over his chest. He’s leaned back in his seat, and she has this feeling she’s about to be scolded. “Assaulting a police officer is pretty serious.”

She feels dirty, humid air making her skin sweaty and salty, her hair frizzy and tangled. A bit of blood splattered on the skin of her forearm. They wouldn’t let her wash it off. “He’s not a police officer to me,” she says, words coming stubbornly out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s just my piece of shit father.”

Kageyama leans forward, bare forearms pressed against the cool metal of the table between them. “Can I ask you something?” He does not wait for the answer. “Is Iwaizumi worth all of this? Look at where you are, do you think this is worth it?”

“Can I ask you something instead?” She waits for confirmation from him. He gives her a slight nod. “Did you like PCD?”

He sighs, fingers tapping against the table. She wants to break them. “We can drop the charges on you, y’know. If you have something more valuable to give us, we’d be happy to do something for you in return.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Valuable?”

Kageyama leans back again. He adjusts a lot, she’s noticed. Moving and shifting and repositioning. She has stayed still in her seat. “Listen, I’ve known Iwaizumi for a while. All of them. I know what they’re like. I know how they can make you feel. You get caught up in it. Good people like you and me find themselves in shit situations without realizing it. But let me tell you this,” he says, severe, and a finger pointed in her direction, “Iwaizumi’s not going to give this up for anything. And you’re not an exception. As much as you think he cares about you, he cares about his job more.”

She can see her mother so clearly, then. For the first time in years. She can see her features, the details of her face. The ones she has in common with her brother. The ones she has in common with her. She can see the anger twisted into her brow like a permanent fixture. She can hear her voice, as if it’s in her ear now.

“Men like your father, they only care about one thing. And it’s not you and it’s not me.”

She lifts her head to meet Kageyama’s stare. His eyes are so sharp and so blue. “Kageyama?”

He leans forward. “Yeah?”

“Suck my dick.”

The sigh of defeat is, at the very least, satisfying. His shoulders slump and she watches the last bit of hope he was holding onto fade out of him. And at least she has that. “Well, in that case, you’re free to go. Your father’s not pressing charges.”

She stands at once, not immediately being hit the with realization that he had tried to trick her into snitching. “Fucking finally,” she spits out, her limbs feeling stiff and disjointed.

She’s halfway out the door when Kageyama says, “Yeah, well, see you later, I’m sure.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi is released before the forty-eight hours is up. She does not find out until four days after.

Most of those four days are spent numbly sitting through her shifts, face weathered and her limbs hanging from her body like heavy, led weights. She lies in her bed. She hardly eats. She checks her phone every five to ten minutes and she calls Oikawa and Matsukawa and Makki and gets their voicemails and she hears nothing.

And then, as she’s hanging out the window, smoking her second cigarette in a row, she sees him. Walking down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his chin up. She watches, in disbelief for a moment, waiting to see if he’s going to turn into their apartment building and run straight up the stairs and into her arms and kiss her and apologize and swear that he would exact vengeance on her father. For the both of them.

But Iwaizumi just walks. He goes straight until he is out of her view.

With shaking hands, she texts him:

so when were u planning on telling me u got out?

He does not respond.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s a month before he speaks to her again.

A month after no texts and no calls and no early morning coffee visits and nothing but the creaks of his floorboards from above. It’s torture. It scratches at her throat and it puts nails in her bloodstream and she spends more than one evening laid out on her bathroom floor, sobs wrecking through her frame, clawing at nothing, trying to grab onto something.

The feeling of abandonment is not entirely unfamiliar. It tastes the same as anger, and it never comes without it. And the combination can make her irrational.

“-and my friend Tanaka has a truck,” Kiyoko says into her, her voice fuzzy from the poor connection. She has her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, haphazardly throwing whatever belongings she can find into the cardboard box she stole from work. “He offered to help move your stuff out if you want.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, drifting through her apartment, stopping as she settles in front of her CD player, sitting in the middle of her kitchen table. The one Iwaizumi gifted her. She makes no move to grab it. She’s sure that Kiyoko has one already. “Maybe he could come by tomorrow. I could be done packing by then. That cool?”

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll ask when he’s free.”

She hums in response, and kicks at one of the legs of her coffee table. A lot of her sidewalk trash furniture is going to right back to where it came from. “Are you sure this is okay with you?”

“Of course!” is Kiyoko’s enthusiastic confirmation. “It’s been a little lonely since my last roommate moved out. And to be honest it’ll be nice to split the rent again.”

God, rent splitting. It sounds like a dream to her. Expenses divided in half-she almost drools at the thought of it. She chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Should probably finish packing now.”

“Alright. See you then.”

She snaps her phone shuts and pockets it.

Even as she empties it of her belongings, the apartment is a mess. Littered with forgotten belongings and things she never had the motivation to get rid of. Things she doesn’t know what to do with. Things that she doesn’t need and can’t justify keeping but she can’t bring herself to trash. The Ponkadu mug. Her pink, fuzzy journals filled with love struck passages. A dried, dead dandelion Iwaizumi ripped from the ground and placed in her hand.

Her head throbs. She looks up at the ceiling above her, like she’s waiting for something. A creak or a slam or something. A sign that he’s still there. That he’s not as far away from her as he feels. But it’s silent, and there’s nothing. And it’s like he was never even there in the first place.

She swallows the lump in throat and returns her attention to the scattered objects in front of her. She forces herself to harden and drops the Ponkadu mug in the trash. Then the journal. Then the dandelion. And she thinks to herself, bitterly, like she’s in an argument with herself, that it’s not like he was never even here in the first place. The evidence of his existence is all over her. It lingers in her lungs, in her chest, it spreads through her bloodstream. Iwaizumi’s there, causing every ache and every sting and every throb. He’s there.

Something possesses her. Everything can go in the trash, suddenly, it doesn’t matter what it is. Plates and freezer-burnt ice cream and a half-empty first aid kit. Anything with the lingering presence of Iwaizumi is getting dumped. Trashed. Left rot and fester in some landfill. And after an hour passes, her apartment is covered with bursting, heavy black trash bags of her wasted belongings.

She sits on the floor, shoulders slumped, legs crossed. She already threw out her couch. Her mattress is sitting on the floor of Kiyoko’s apartment, in the bedroom that will be hers by tomorrow. So for now, all she has is the rotted hardwood floor, where Iwaizumi told her he’d marry her.

Her throat tightens. She cannot get out of here fast enough.

Sweat droplets form on the back of her neck as she stands, ready to start hauling bag after bag out to the presumably already overflowing dumpster behind her apartment building. Her knees knock together as she stands, and she moves towards her door, ready to prop it open with one of the trash bags.

She undoes her deadbolt. Then her chain lock. Then she opens the door, and Iwaizumi is there, hand raised to knock.

At the sight of him, her throat tightens up, and she is immediately, torn split between her rage and her desperation. As much as she wants him to hold her, to make her promises and give her the comfort she’s been craving so desperately for the past month, she wants to bite his head off just as much. To make him hurt the way he hurt her. To tear him up from the inside.

Instead, she stares, blankly, somewhat horrified. Her heart beats heavy in her throat and her ears get fuzzy. He looks the same. That makes her angry. She wishes there was some change, some difference. But the Iwaizumi that said that he loved her in her kitchen and that he’d marry her on her floor is the same one that left her to rot on her own.

He steps into her apartment, right past her, like he still has the right to, and looks at the state of it. Everything packed up. Everything scattered. He looks at her like he still has the right to. “What’s going on?”

She flinches, and her anger is starting to win. “I’m moving.”

Iwaizumi pulls that face. That same one. Always looking like he’s slightly dissatisfied with something. “Why?”

Why. It’s such a stupid question. She tries to take a breath to calm herself but it makes her shudder and lock up. “I’m sure if you think about it, you can figure it out.”

She watches the air enter and exit his lungs through the rising and falling of his shoulders. He looks at her, right through her. “Don’t leave.”

In an odd way, she likes the control. She likes the feeling that, for once in her life, she’s not the one begging. “Don’t tell me what to do. Not after you left me.”

He exhales sharply. Iwaizumi takes a step towards her, and she takes a step back. “C’mon, that’s not fair. I didn’t leave you. I just needed to put some distance between us for the time being. Your dad, he’s fucked, alright? It was a liability to-“

“A liability?” she cuts him off, hands clenched into fists by her side. The heat in her blood rises. “I’m a liability?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and reaches towards her. She jerks away from him. “No, not that you’re a liability, it was just a risk to be around you while-“

“So, what, you couldn’t get one of your little errand boys to tell me about it?” she says, and it comes out like a bark. “You had to leave me in the dark for a month while you dicked off doing god knows what? Too risky to send a text? After I lied to the cops for you and risked getting arrested for you and became a fucking on-call nurse for you, you couldn’t send me a fucking text?”

Her breath is ragged. Iwaizumi stares down at her like he’s seeing for the first time. “I thought you wouldn’t care. I thought you don’t care about anything.”

And it’s too much for her. It’s too big for her body. It’s too much for her to carry and she can’t hold onto it anymore. “I care about everything! I care about everything so fucking much it makes me sick!” she erupts, tears in her voice and rolling down her face. Her skin feels hot. The air feels hot. “Is that what you liked about me so much? You thought I was some kind of apathetic ragdoll you could toss around and do whatever you want with?”

“I thought you would understand!” he eventually bites back at her, his own voice rising. “I thought you knew what kind of life I live and what that meant! God, you fucking act like nothing bothers you and you pretend to not see the world around you and you just expect me to read your mind?”

“What fucking person would be okay with being abandoned for a month?” she screams. “You knocked on my door and asked me for a favor and you hovered around me and you said you loved me and said you’d marry me and then you just fucking disappeared! That’s so fucked, Iwa. That’s so fucking cruel.”

He steps towards her, and before she can say anything his arms are around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Like one simple embrace will end it all. Like he can just take her in his arms and suddenly she’ll stay, suddenly it’ll fix everything. She wants it to. She wants it to so badly. But she places her palms on her chest and pushes him away. She stumbles back and looks at him with wet eyes. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I do love you,” he tells her, voice lower now. “I meant what I said and I still do. You’re my girl. You’re everything to me.”

She shakes her head, trembling. She can’t let it be true. “No, I’m not,” she asserts, backing up into her kitchen table. Her hands go around the edge of it. “I don’t mean anything to you. You wouldn’t have left me if I did.”

“I had a reason-“

“I don’t fucking care what your reason was! I don’t fucking care, Iwa! I don’t care about your stupid job or your stupid fucking guns or whatever! I care that you were here, and then you weren’t! You left me like my mom did and you left me like my brother did and then you come back here and you have the fucking audacity to not even be sorry about it. I fucking hate you!”

She knows that she doesn’t mean it, when she says it. Iwaizumi probably knows too. He probably knows she doesn’t mean it when she swipes the CD player he got her off the kitchen table and it goes flying. Soaring across the room until it slams into the opposite wall, breaking and crumpling against the pressure. Bits of it snap off.

Iwaizumi looks at it, and then he looks at her. She’s shaking. She wants to get on her knees and do everything she can to fix it the second it breaks. But it’s on the floor, broken and shattered. Iwaizumi nods, and then he leaves. He turns around and walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.

an: huge huge huge huge thank u to wyr and ness and honee and molly and dodger who all had to suffer thru me trying to get this chapter out u guys are the best

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[dreamrecorder]

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

~

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

~

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

~

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

~

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

~ 

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

~

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

~

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

~

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

~

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

ateez reaction to you calling them by their pet name 4/4

↖ navigation: ateez masterlist  ||  main masterlist

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 

『 w o o y o u n g 』

(a/n: and your next words are yes sir—i’m kidding)

“i’m back.” wooyoung called out, but no response came back. he cleared his throat and raised his voice, “i’m back!” still no answer. wooyoung looked at the album in a paper bag, signed by all of the other members, courtesy of jung wooyoung himself. he kicked off his shoes, perplexed as to why you weren’t at home. and even if you were at home, you would still have heard him, right?

wrong. the first thing wooyoung saw was you kneeling in a circle of ATEEZ albums and he choked.

"i'm doing a ritual to get seonghwa oppa's photocard. then I'll have a full set. did you open my album before me?" wooyoung pouted even though you had your back facing him, "you didn't even greet me." he happily grinned when he got your attention. sitting back against your hunches, you spread your arms out wide, "come here baby boy." 

that pet name right there never felt better after a long day of practice. wooyoung stayed in your embrace for a moment before you broke the silence, “i take it my album is intact? with all of their signatures?”

“yah, i come home expecting a whole evening of hugs and cuddles, yet i see you doing a whole ritual to get hyung? hmph, i’m taking this album away from you.” “no, baby boy please I actually paid KQ for this album!”

『 j o n g h o 』

(a/n: teddy bear; that’s him right there)

“the hairdresser noona kinda screwed up my haircut so i’m going to be a little late.” jongho easily lied, his phone tucked at the juncture of his ear and shoulder. he was currently hiding behind a rather gigantic teddy bear, waiting for an opportune moment to surprise you. out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you as you chuckled, a sound he loved hearing. “it’s okay. if it makes my teddy bear look dashing, then i’ll wait a little longer. see you soon!” you ended the call and jongho crept up to you.

“boo!” you gasped, startled. jongho exclaimed, “happy valentine’s!” he handed you the teddy bear but paused when you were still in shock, mouth agape. “d-did i scare you? oh my gosh, i’m so sorry babe—” “—your hair...is so cute! you’re like a life sized teddy bear!” you squealed and jongho’s heart skipped a beat.

“me? cute? look at yourself. you are just so lovable right now i just wanna…!” He easily lifted both you and the teddy bear up, swinging you around. “i rather you be my teddy bear than this. but i’ll take it because you really, really, really look like it.”

“aish~! you’re so cute, what am i going to do with you?”

@ppumeonae-bigvibe ’s work ; likes and reblogs appreciated <3

[chincilla-on-the-moon]

“I like you too idiot.”- Connor Murphy X Reader

Request: can u do a connor x reader where reader is being pretty annoyed with Jared on the first day (like when he calls him a school shooter) and he steps in and defends her leading timo a nice friendship and a love confession from Connor at the end? I’m sending love, and if u can’t it is really ok, everyone’s mental health is important, pls don’t feel overwhelmed ��✨🦋- Anon 

Word Count: 2,542

Warnings: A couple swears and Jared Klienman being a dick. (also Connor is probs written ooc but whatever)

Authors note: Hi everyone! First of all I just want to say thank you to everyone who requested something! I am trying to work on them but I recently fell into a really bad place mentally but I’m working on making it better. I hope to have the other requests out soon but please be patient with me. Also anon I used they/them pronouns for the reader as those are my pronouns and I want to make sure everyone can I enjoy my writing regardless of gender so I hope that okay.  As always thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day/night! :) <3 (Also any feedback is very appreciated. )

First day of senior year. To say you weren’t excited would be the understatement of the century. Sure you were excited to finally get out of your hometown but you had to get through the school year first and if the previous years were any indication of how this year was going to go, well lets just say it's going to be a long year. 

You pulled into the student parking lot in your shitty car and saw there were a couple extra minutes before you actually had to be in the building, With that in mind you decided to just put your head down  on the steering wheel for a few minutes to prepare yourself for the day ahead. 

That peace was short lived though because not even  30 seconds later did a dark truck pulled up next to you. Before the car could even come to a stop Zoe Murphy flew out of the passenger seat. She flipped off the driver, who you presumed was her brother Connor, and slammed the door before storming off into the school. “Jesus” you mutter  to yourself. Then another door slammed and Connor Murphy appeared in front of the truck, talking and gesturing wildly to himself. You could only make out bits and pieces of what the boy was saying before he went into the school like his sister. You heard him say something about his mom and his bitch sister and not even wanting to be there. Well at least you weren't alone in the feeling. Following the Murphy siblings you begrudgingly went into the building. The friendly secretary greated you and handed you your schedule which had your locker number on it. After searching for a few minutes you found it and just as you were starting to put things in your locker  you heard his voice, Jared Klienman. He was talking to Evan Hansen and you prayed to whatever higher being that could hear you that he would leave you alone. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t L/N.” You could practically hear the shit-eating grin he had on his stupid face. You were about to turn around and tell him to go away but before you could someone comes between the two of you blocking Jared from your view. 

“Fuck off Klienman” says the last person you expected, Connor Murphy. 

“Woah calm down Murphy, I’m just trying to have a conversation with Y/N here” Jared says starting to back up and putting his arms up as a way of showing his surrender.

“Well they obviously don’t want to talk to you. Now get out of here before I punch that stupid smirk off your dumb face,” Connor says squaring off his shoulders in an attempt to look even more intimidating than usual. It worked quite well because Jared was practically running off but not before making a dig at Connor.

“Yeah whatever you fucking freak.”

You saw Connor’s shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists. You didn’t know what to do but figured it would be best to leave the boy alone, so you just fidgeted with your hands. He took a deep breath then turned to face you. 

“Uhm thanks for that. You really didn’t have to,” you say avoiding eye contact with him, which was quite easy considering how tall he was compared to you. 

“No problem, I know how much of a dick Klienman can be.” 

“Yeah he’s the worst,” you say scoffing lightly. Then the bell signaling you were supposed to be in homeroom rang.“See you around Connor. Thanks again,” you say before turning to shut your locker and rush to class. 

“Yeah see you around,” Connor says to no one because you were already down the hall.

The rest of the day wasn’t much better, nothing happened in particular but it just still wasn’t the best. After what felt like an eternity it was finally the last bell of the day, creative writing. You weren’t particularly interested in writing but you had a bell to fill so you figured why not. When you walked in you did a scan of the room and saw Connor, he had an empty seat next to him at the back of the room so you decided to sit it in. “Hey,” you say, startling the boy who was previously staring into space. 

“Oh hey.”

“Thanks again for this morning, I really appreciate it dude,” you say making eye contact with Connor so he would know you actually meant what you were saying.

“Oh yeah, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he says, giving you a small smile. You smiled back just as your teacher walked in which caused the conversation to end. 

“Good afternoon class! I hope all of your days have been tolerable,” says your teacher Mr. Davidson. He was a younger man in his early 30’s which meant everyone liked him including you.  “Instead of doing an ice breaker where you all lie about how interesting your summers were I want you to get to actually get to know someone in this class a little better,” he says from behind his podium at the front of the class. You were starting to panic a little, who were you going to partner up with? None of your kind of friends were in this class!  Then Connor cleared his throat grabbing your attention.

“Hey Y/N, wanna be partners?” The nervous energy was practically radiating off the boy. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sure Connor.” The two of you then got up and turned your desks to face each other like the other pairs were doing. “So Murphy what’s your deepest darkest secret?” you say, smirking.

“Woah L/N, not even going to ask me my favorite color or anything?” he says chuckling.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you say playfully rolling your eyes. “What’s your favorite color Connor?” 

“Dark green. What about you L/N? What's your favorite color?”

“Y/F/C,” you say. “It’s been my favorite since I was younger,” you say shrugging.

“I respect that. It’s a good color.” 

“Yeah whatever, now can I hear your deepest secret?”, you say almost like a child.

“Wow you’re still on this?”, he says with amusement evident in his tone. 

“Yeah I am!” you say in a mock seriousness. “Mr. Davidson says we are supposed to actually get to know each other and that’s what I’m trying to do Murphy!” 

“You’re absolutely right Y/N,” he says suddenly very serious.

“Okay fine I’ll tell you but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. 

“Not a soul,” you say staring at him intently and sitting at the edge of your seat. 

“Well, here goes nothing.” He made eye contact and it felt as if he was staring into your soul. “I’m pregnant.”

You maintained eye contact until you actually processed what he said, then the two of you started laughing which caused the rest of the class to turn and look at you but for once you didn’t even care because you were actually happy for the first time in what felt like forever. 

The rest of the class went by faster than you or Connor wanted it to, but the two of you walked out to the student parking lot together and paused when you reached your cars. “Uh see you tomorrow I guess,” you say but it comes out as more of a question. 

“Yeah see you tomorrow Y/N”, Connor says very confidently which surprised you both. You waved as a final goodbye and got into your cars. As you were driving home you thought about all the awful things you heard about Connor in the past and how untrue they were. Sure he was intimidating at first glance but he’s six feet tall for goodness sake who wouldn’t be intimidated by that. You could tell from the short  class period you spent getting to know him that he was simply misunderstood.  Suddenly you were glad you never listened to what all the popular kids said about Connor. 

As the school year went on you and Connor developed a sort of unspoken ritual, you would wait for Connor to get to school then you two would walk to homeroom together and then walk to your cars when the school day was over. The two of you became good friends and you found yourself actually looking forward to waking up in the morning so you could see him. The pair of you  had hung out outside of school a few times and you had actually met Connor’s mom, granted it was an accident but it still happened. 

You and Connor decided to hang out at his house because his family wasn’t home that afternoon, the two of you were lounging on the couch watching some weird movie when you heard the front door open. “Connor dear? Is that you in there?” Suddenly an middle aged woman with red hair appeared with reusable grocery bags in her hands. 

“Mom?!” Connor jumped up from the couch in a panic. “I thought you had yoga today?!”

“Class was canceled because Cindy wasn’t feeling well. Oh I stopped by the store and  got those  snacks you asked for!” she said coming into the living room box in hand. “Oh? Connor, who's your friend?” she said with a small smile appearing on her lips. 

“Hi Mrs. Murphy. I’m Y/N,” you said nervously. 

“Oh call me Cynthia dear,” she said, shooting you a smile. 

After that Cynthia invited you to stay for dinner but you already had plans with your parents that night. She invited you a couple times after that as well. You never actually went cause Connor didn’t want you to but still it was nice to know she liked you enough to invite you to dinner. 

As fall came to a close the two of you  became attached at the hip, constantly talking to one another whether it was in person or through the phone. Once the holiday season rolled around you guys got each other gifts. You got Connor a signed book from his favorite author and he got you a vinyl you had been wanting for a while.

 Once the holiday break was over the end of the first semester came quickly and you couldn’t wait to finally be done with your half year courses and start the new ones. Unfortunately you had to take finals before you could be done. Although you only had two finals you were still extremely stressed out. Sure they were easy classes but the teachers were notorious for giving impossible finals. You spent the few days before the finals studying whenever there was a free moment. Connor knew you were stressed so he helped you the best he could. He offered to have study sessions even though none of his classes had finals, he went over quizlets on video calls, and he even brought you a drink with way too much caffeine on the mornings he knew you didn’t sleep. 

Once the day arrived he texted you good luck. You went into the first test and totally nailed it. Before the next testing time there was a break and when you checked your phone you saw Connor had texted you telling you how proud he was of you for studying so hard and reassuring you that you had these exams in the bag. You sent him a quick “thank you :))” and went into the testing room for the second time. This exam was a little harder than the last but you still thought you did decent. There were a couple times where Connor and his stupid mneumonic devices actually came in handy. Letting out a giant breath of relief as you stepped out of the testing room you couldn’t wait to tell Connor about how much he helped. When you reached your locker and got your phone out of it you saw Connor had asked if you wanted to hang out when you were done. Obviously you said yes and told him to pick you up at your house in 15. You drove home and changed out of your testing outfit which was just sweatpants and a hoodie and put on something a little more presentable. Sure you were just going to hang out with your best friend but he also is the boy you’ve been pining over for months. You’ve always found Connor attractive and when he put dickhead Klienman in his place that made him all the more hot. But then you really got to know him and you fell. Hard.  He was sweet, caring, smart, and funny. Sure he had his moments but so did everyone on the planet. He had actually opened up to you about his struggles with his mental health and you did everything you could to support him. You encouraged him to ask his parents for therapy, and always made sure he took his meds in the morning. You were there for him and he was always there for you.  

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the horn of Connor’s truck outside your house. You rushed outside and got into the passenger seat, “So where to Murphy?”

“I was thinking we could get some food and just chill in a parking lot somewhere. Sound cool?”

“Definitely. I’ve missed hanging out with you. Stupid finals,” you say with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Yeah I’ve missed hanging out with you too dork,” he says reaching over the center console and ruffling your hair. 

“Connor Murphy! I just brushed my hair and here you go messing it up!” you say while trying to fix your now disbelieved hair. 

“Whatever L/N. It still looks fine to me.”  Although it was barely a compliment, heat still rushed to your cheeks. He pulled out of your driveway and the two of you were off. On the way to get food you guys caught up talking about everything you missed in the world of Connor because you were too focused on finals. He told you he finished a TV show you recommend and loved it.  You made it to the drive through and Connor ordered, already knowing what you wanted from your many midnight outings. Once you got your food you made your way to the plaza parking lot where the restaurant was located. For the first couple minutes the two of you sat in a comfortable silence listening to the playlist Connor had made for this type of occasion. After a few minutes Connor suddenly spoke, “Can I tell you something?”

“Connor dearest you know you can tell me anything,” you say with a french fry in your mouth, not even bothering to look at him. 

“I like you.” You choked on the fry you had in your mouth. 

“Pardon?” you say through a cough. 

“I said I like you,” he says, a little less sure of himself. When you looked over at Connor you saw he was staring straight ahead. 

“Hey Connor.” 

“Mhm,” he says, not daring to move. 

“Look at me.” He just barely turned his head towards you. “I like you too idiot.”

[pansyslut]

hii! could u write more imagines from the one ‘you are my yellow’?? is my fav imagine and it’s so cute i just need more ‘moments’ of than couple i- 😔

you are my sunshine

draco x reader

part two of you are my yellow

warnings : like one or two swear words, mentions of not eating, so much fluff

song mentioned : you are my sunshine by johnny cash

draco had left for work before you. you had done your joint morning ritual like always. brushing teeth, brushing hair, getting dressed, right next to each other using your side my side sinks.

you still hadn’t told draco. he has been so much better recently and didn’t want to worry him. since that day you found him on the couch, he had taken that week off from work. you knew if he knew you were ill he wouldn’t hesitate to take another week off. but his work was already dicey and worrying him wouldn’t help either of you.

as soon as he walked out the door you let out a sigh of relief only for another wave of nausea to come rushing towards you. instantly running to the bathroom to hurl all of your breakfast out. you sit there on the bathroom floor for an hour. gagging up nothing but air due to your now empty stomach.

as soon as he walked out the door you let out a sigh of relief only for another wave of nausea to come rushing towards you. instantly running to the bathroom to hurl all of your breakfast out. you sit there on the bathroom floor for an hour. gagging up nothing but air due to your now empty stomach.

eventually, you will yourself up and make yourself a bowl of soup before laying on the couch to turn on some random show letting sleep take over.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

draco had been worrying about you all day. throughout the week he had noticing you eating less, only eating when you noticed him watching you. he knows what it’s like to have a bad mental health day and he feels for you. he can’t help but for that little part of him beginning to hurt that you hadn’t opened up to him about your struggles.

you had always told him time and time again, “it’s okay not to be okay.” and yet you hadn’t opened up to him at all this passing week.

not only are you eating less but you’re also sleeping less. he would wake up in the middle of the night to cold sheets next to him. at first, he had shrugged it off. maybe you just weren’t tired? and even if there was more to it, you always let him open up to you on his own time so he decided to give you the same curtesy.

that was until he noticed your lack of eating. he knows exactly what it’s like to be in that spot mentally. deciding to make a nice dinner for you tonight, he shoots you a text.

hey, baby. i know we haven’t been able to spend as much time together. i’m backed up with work from taking last week off. i’ll make you dinner tonight. make sure to be home from work by seven. xo

of course he wouldn’t force the food down your throat. but knowing you could never pass up your favorite food gave him hope. and if not, he would at least ask for you to open up to him about whatever has been on your mind.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

finally, he finished up work and was on his way home. his whole body yearning for you, missing your touch and the sound of your voice.

walking through the door, he finds you in the exact same position you found him the previous week. curled up on the couch, the tv quietly playing in the background. he takes note of the cold, almost untouched soup next to you.

deciding not to wake you, he lays a kiss on your forehead and busies himself in the kitchen. with the open floor plan in your house, he could see you in the living room as he cooked so he was able to check up on you.

he puts on your “happy playlist” as you call it, softly as he pulls out the ingredients. he feels arms wrapping around his waist as you push your face into the back of his shoulder.

“hey, dray” you say muffled into his shirt

“hi, baby. i’m making your favorite. i’m not sure if you saw my text but i missed you. i’ve been so busy. so just sit yourself down and have a glass of wine.” he says and you chuckle softly

with him standing by the stove, you pour yourself a glass but go back to hugging his back as you sway to the music.

you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

you make me happy when skies are gray

you'll never know dear, how much i love you

please don't take my sunshine away

the both of you stand there, in each other’s arms. eventually you hear draco singing softly as you smile. he knows you love it when he sings to you.

i'll always love you and make you happy

if you will only say the same

but if you leave me and love another

you'll regret it all some day

he briefly stops his cooking and turns to you, wrapping you up in his arms as he continues to sing.

you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

you make me happy when skies are gray

you'll never know dear, how much i love you

please don't take my sunshine away

the song ends but you both stay still in the warm embrace. “i missed you, y/n. i worry about you constantly.” he says.

“i’ve missed you too, dray. but you know you don’t need to worry about me. don’t be silly.” you say letting go of him and looking into his eyes. he smiles and nods, putting his hands on your cheeks as he looks at you intently.

you feel the pad of his thumbs smooth over your temples. growing worried, “what’s gotten into you, draco? is something wrong?” you say and he just shakes his head once again in response.

“it’s nothing, i’m sure. just sit down and relax while i finish.”

once dinners ready, he sits down next to you with both of your bowls as you catch up. about work, weekend plans, grocery shopping. it was all light hearted chitchat. it just felt good to be in each other’s presence once again.

he stars down at your full bowl and untouched wine then back up at you giving you a pointed look. trying not to trouble him, you start babbling on about having a girls night soon with your friends and how ginny invited you to go shopping with her.

as soon as you finished talking, you met dracos gaze to see how uninterested he looks. “y/n/n, you know that’s not what i want to talk about.”

“oh? then what is it?” you visibly gulp, trying to play dumb

“why haven’t you been eating?” he says dropping his fork and grabbing your hands. “you know you can talk to me. you know i am here for you one hundred percent. are you sick?” he puts his hand on your forehead, “you feel fine.”

you whack his hand away from you and try to brush it off once more. “i told you, i’m fine. i promise i would tell you if it was an actual-”

“cut the shit, y/n. i’ve giving you space and time. you know this is only coming from a place of concern. i’ve been worried sick about you this whole damn week. i made you your favorite meal in hopes for you to eat but even that you won’t get down. i’m trying so hard to be understanding. i know what it’s like to have bad mental days and-”

you cut him off, “draco this isn’t a bad mental day.” you sigh and grab his hands. “i just... i don’t want you to freak out. or feel like you are obligated to do or say anything.” you say as he stares blankly at you.

“y/n, if you think i’m leaving anytime soon, that is so far from the truth. after everything we’ve been through, you should know i’m not going to leave you over some silly little thing. no matter what it is i am here for you.”

you smile at his sweet sentiment. you know he’s right. you know deep down he would be here for you. here it is. just get it out. just say it. get it over with. “draco, i’m pregnant.”

“you’re- you’re what?”

“i’m pregnant. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. at first i just thought it was a stomach bug and didn’t want to worry you.”

he frantically shakes his head. he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing every single part of your face. “oh baby, i can’t believe you were even nervous to tell me.” you latch onto his neck and wrap your legs around his torso.

“we’ve only been together for two years. and i know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks. we haven’t even talked about kids-” you get cut off as you feel a pair of lips on yours. melting into him, you couldn’t help but think how silly you were. of course he reacted so sweetly. it’s draco.

pulling back from you, “baby, you should’ve told me sooner i’ve been so worried. this whole time i thought you not eating was something deeper oh my-” he sets you down gently and sits back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair.

he pulls you into him again but he leans down to your stomach. “you’re going to have the best mommy in the world. but don’t tell her this- she’s going to have her some competition. you might be my number one yellow. but that can be our little secret.” you burst out laughing and shoved his shoulder.

that night, you lay there with draco laying his head on your stomach singing the song once again. but now his words are muffled as he sings directly into your stomach.

you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

you make me happy when skies are gray

you'll never know dear, how much i love you

please don't take my sunshine away

he looks up at you with a childlike grin on his face. “she’s going to be amazing, i already know it. she’s going to have my charming wit and her mama’s beautiful looks.”

“so you’ve decided it’s a girl, huh?” you say running your fingers through his hair. “trust me, y/n. i’ve got a knack for this sort of thing.” he says and you shake your head.

in your thoughts, you think of what having a mini draco would be like. running around, causing a ruckus. you smile to yourself.

he pushes back up and lays his forehead on yours. he sets his hand on your tummy, “our little sunshine.”

[kkulmoon]

ROOM 2020 | knj ✦ m

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : It's finally graduation! You have just earned your master’s degree, but it's 2020 and onsite graduation and celebration isn't an option. However, Namjoon still wants to make sure you celebrate and scream at the top of your lungs. And what better way to celebrate plenty than in room 2020?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Namjoon x Reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut, fluff

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 18+

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : brief mention of airborne disease similar our current situation, alcohol, biting, unprotected sex (you better wrap it up!) , blindfolding, breast play, pussy slapping, a lil spanking, groping, cunnilingus, fingering, mushy and sappy fluffy behaviour is present (I just couldn't contain myself OKAY), slight edging. I think that’s it, pls let me know if i forgot to add anything :))

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲 : three lovely people, Angie @scvkjin​, Coralie @seakay05 (an editing queen!!!) and Bee @inkedxclouds​ (another editing queen!!!!!)

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 : the talented Danica @dee-ehn​

𝐚/𝐧: i want to preface this by saying this is the FIRST smut I have ever written, so lowkey don’t know how to feel about what I just wrote. Anyways,,,, I want to give a big thanks to the person who went completely feral with me once I saw Joon during the 2020 graduation commencement, she and Joon are the reason I felt the need to write this, Danica love u babes 🤧💞. I also want to thank Bee, @j-sope​ @bangtiddies​ and @jeonggukingdom​, for being such amazing pillars of support, love u 💞. Other than that, enjoy I guess 💆‍♀️🤪

Namjoon has done it again. You are going into full overdrive, ears operating at their full capacity, in hopes of figuring out where exactly he's taking you. “Don’t wear any eye makeup.” That’s what he had requested through text the night before. A request that hasn’t manifested much in you, except for the sudden realisation that Namjoon usually does not care about your makeup habits. That should have been warning enough. But that was then and you’re here now. 

The roughness of Namjoon’s tie massages your eyelids as your body registers the gravitational drag before the ding sounds. If the swooshing doors and the slick card in your hand aren’t evidence enough, the sound lets you know that you’re indeed currently at a hotel. You jump slightly at the touch of his hands at the back of your head where the knot lies.

“Just checking; wouldn’t want you to peep.” The voice is sweet and the thrill it arises in you even sweeter. 

It’s summer time, graduation day and it would have been like any other day of celebration had it not been for the current state of the world. Everyone is faced with an airborne disease that threatens the livelihood of society and stifles everyone's plans for fun days lit by the never-ending golden rays. That’s your current reality and yet in the midst of all the uncertainty there are two sure facts: today, a Friday, you have just graduated and today, over 730 days since you let longing gazes turn infatuation into a relationship, Kim Namjoon loves you enough to have sat beside you to attend your streamed graduation ceremony. 

You’re left to walk alone, Namjoon trusting you enough to do so. You have just earned your masters in engineering and with honours at that, walking straight should not be a problem. It wouldn’t be one did you not have his looming breath caress your bare shoulders every time he shifts closer to you as if he is some bloodhound able to smell your state. The clacking of your sandals and the soft thud of Namjoon’s steps fills the air to let you know that he is walking a few steps behind you.

The day had started with a heretic phone call from your mother screaming at you for oversleeping on your graduation day. The wifi had been funky and you had spent a whole thirty minutes trying to build a stand with a proper height where you could prop your laptop. In the middle of all the chaos you had managed to spill water on your dress that Namjoon had to blow dry. You were left with a scorching thigh and to say the least, you felt crispy. The morning was chaotic but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Well, except for the stand. It’s wobbling had given you too much anxiety. The prospect of your laptop plummeting to the floor in the middle of the stream to reveal the mess in your room made it very hard to focus on the ceremony. 

The only upside to the stream had been the fact it was much shorter than an usual graduation celebration. Before you knew it, you were required to give your speech as the class’s valedictorian. As creative as you consider yourself to be, you decided to not deviate from the usual template, starting with a sweet thank you, mentioning your countless hardships through ‘the most formative years of your life’, thanking your favourite professors and even managing to slip in a suggestive comment aimed at that man that has your heart, just to make him happy. 

“I would also like to thank Namjoon for all of his nightly motivation. I truly could not have come all this way without him,” you had said with a wide smile, squeezing his palm into your hand, not because you wanted to be affectionate but because it was heading south of your thighs into the moist valley between your legs.

Namjoon’s hand lands on your shoulder bringing you back to the present and you feel heat in its placement, what you don’t know is whether it is his hand or your body. You can’t help but quiver at his unseen touch of your arm, fingers tracing their way to your loose fist where they snatch the damp keycard away. 

The soft click of the electronic lock unlocks something in you. What in the heck did Namjoon have planned for you? Was this one of his few adventurous moments? You were the one who always suggested places to go and planned your activities not because he wouldn’t but because he couldn’t. Anytime he tried planning anything, something was missing. At first it was the picnic where he forgot the cutlery then it was the camping trip where he forgot to bring bug spray. So as excited as your body feels, your mind can’t help but be cautious.

You are kept waiting for something, anything. A soft push or maybe a calm order, but Namjoon gives you neither and yet you feel secure in continuing your walk. You are allowed a few steps forward before Namjoon makes you stop, once again. The door is shut with the same suspenseful click and all you can think is: Show time!

The room is quiet except for the soft whooshing of the ventilation. Only then do you take notice of the increased tempo of your breaths. You breathe in deeply, teeth munching on your bottom lip. The effects of your quiet calming ritual crumbles as soon as Namjoon closes the gap between the two of you, lips on your shoulders, hands holding on to yours as he engulfs you into a back hug. 

“Oooh,” you shiver, coiling into his chest. 

At first, there’s one kiss in the middle of your shoulder, followed by another at the crevice of your neck. Your stuttering breaths, encouraging him to give you a warm wet lick up your neck to your decorated earlobe. One that he bites as he grinds his hips into your clothed ass. “How are you feeling?” Namjoon asks fingers caressing your interlocked digits. All you can do is stretch your head back to come into contact with his shoulder and grind back onto his crotch in response. You feel great, better than great in fact, yet you know he is the only one able to make you feel you even better. 

“Come on babe, you are a big girl and you just graduated. Use your words with me.” He says, composed as always as his kisses travel up the side of your face to stop at your temple where you sense the slow but evident stretch of his lips. “You know how I’m feeling,” you whine.

It’s the chuckle, it’s the small consecutive rumbles of his chest and it's your undeniable devotion to him that makes you squirm in place, head shifting side to side on his shoulders, waiting for him to continue. His hands spread across the expanse of your stomach as he kneads at the flesh making you inhale in hope that he would reach lower. And lower he goes, palms spreading to touch your heat. 

“Yes, right there!” You hum in accordance with his action. 

“Here?” he inquires. You nod, head still back as you curve it to the side once Namjoon’s soft warning bite scrapes at the skin of your ear. “What did I say? Words, babe, words.” 

You reach your hand to place it on top of his, keeping it rooted in place, as you buck into the sweet roughness of the pad of his fingers. “Yes, Joon, right there.” You try to sound collected yet it all comes out in a pitched mewl. You bite down on your lips, the rhythmic stimulation of his hands inducing a steady rocking of your hips, small gasps rooting themselves at the top of your throat, mouth running dry from Namjoon’s sporadic choice to delve deeper between your thighs.  

”Hmmm, Joon. Please stop teasing,” you whine, inching your mouth with your tongue out towards him. Anything would do, you would take anything he wanted to give. His pulsating neck, his parted lips, his cool fingers, or his throbbing dick.

”I am just giving you some motivation,” he smirks alluding to your graduation speech. Your cringing expression humours him and you gasp, body growing tenser by the minute. You now know that it was all planned. He had been touchy all day, slipping a couple of stolen kisses and sneaky squeezes throughout the ceremony. You couldn’t manage to act right, your leg almost kicking the stand down. Your eyes should have been wet, not your pussy. His own innuendos didn’t go unnoticed. You were quite frankly overwhelmed. Namjoon was nasty but never that public about it and certainly not during a live online graduation. You’re brought back to the present with a stinging slap to your sex. 

At this point, your wriggling is at its max and you can feel the burn of his suit jacket at the back of your neck. You try your luck with a tentative turn to your right and to your surprise he lets you take over. Your nose is now buried into his chest and you can hear the thumping of his frantic heart and it’s your turn to smile. The faint smell of your lemon scented detergent fills your senses. You give his torso a small kiss, arms locking themselves around his upper body. The pressure of the firm protrusion in his pants makes itself known on your body and it takes everything in you not to beg. You just need to be more patient. That’s what Namjoon has taught you; good things come to those who wait. 

And good things do come once he palms your ass cheeks, gripping hard at the soft flesh. A small squeak leaves you as he scoops you up, legs encircling his hips. “What do you want babe?” It’s a simple question, really. Yet the answers are endless. You more than want, you need him to give in to your advances and lose himself in you the way you are losing yourself in him even when he has barely touched you. Through all of that and the other thousand scenarios that flash by in your mind your lips settle for something they can themself profit from. 

“Kiss me.”

Still blindfolded, your mouth gapes at the air hoping to catch his full lips once they are close enough. His hot breath fans your face as you exchange panting breaths that have your head inching forward, an action that earns you a pinch to your behind. Namjoon seems to take pity in your eager behaviour and finally closes the distance. The instant your lips touch, you exhale deeply, sinking further into the vicious grip of his hands and he manages to increase the span of his exploration. Hungry for more, you overtake the kiss, hands cradling his face as your tongue floods the warmth of his mouth, legs squeezing him closer evoking a soft croak from him. Your movements are frantic. Long gone is your attempt at being collected as you let it be known, let it be felt that you needed him glued to you in all places imaginable. 

Your noses bump in the middle of your furious exploration of his lips. You taste the champagne you had after you officially graduated in your tiny one room apartment and you hope that there will be more times like this where you would get to celebrate with him and be able to close your eyes and still taste those memories on the tip of his tongue. Along the way as you keep devouring his now wet lips, your makeshift blindfold, Namjoon’s tie, unravels itself to fall between your faces. In that moment, he opens his eyes, “Hi,” he says, lids half away open but enough for you to feel the warmth from his deep brown eyes. 

“Hi!” you giggle, forehead falling down to touch his. 

A few instances ago you felt ready to unleash your ferocity on him and force him to pick up the tempo and find his rightful place inside of you. Yet, here you are, now somewhat calmer. 

“God, how are you so cute?” Namjoon questions, nose scrunching up. Despite the cuteness overload your body craves to be handled in a way that’s nothing short of passionate and all consuming. 

The two of you are now slightly more composed, your desires still itching deep within you but your actions have now taken a calmer route as he puts you down. Your tunnel vision for Namjoon subsists and you’re able to take in the dimly lit room. If the invigorating makeout session wasn’t enough to let you know that the celebration is still going, the ice filled bucket with champagne does just that. You walk past the inviting cream coloured bed to reach the side table with the champagne. Your heated hands touch the perspiring green glass bottle, holding it out to Joon while you raise your brow at him.

“That’s for after the ceremony,” he makes it known.

You let out a mellow ‘oh’, “I see.”

You place the bottle back where you had found it and walk to the end of the bed, where you sit down, kicking off your heels and reaching up to take off your graduation cap.

“Well then, we better get started,” you say enthusiastically. Namjoon who had found his way to stand in front of it lets his soft palm weigh down your wrist, stilling you. “Wow, you really have a way of killing the mood, huh? And I think you should keep this on. Isn’t the cap usually removed after the ceremony?” 

With grinning lips you lean back on hands, the cool and slick sheets sliding under your hot palms. You shift your gaze to Namjoon’s feet, for once he decided to ditch his sneakers, which he had swore he would wear to your graduation, probably just to annoy you. You let your naked foot trail against the leather of his shoe, sliding it up his cream slacks all the way to his right calf. Your eyes lift up to his, calm and attentive. 

He had already discarded his suit jacket to be left with a white shirt, one you had advised him not to wear, Namjoon had a habit of managing to dirty his clothes even in the cleanest of environments. Staring right at him, you push forward behind his knee hoping he will get where you want him, need him. For a second you’re hopeful as his knees slightly give in. But Namjoon shakes his head, side to side, with a soft smile, “Not yet, we wouldn’t want your dress to get ruined now would we?” 

You looked down at your attire. Yeah, you think, maybe he's right. Your mom had made the ivory white lace and tulle knee length dress and she would definitely ask to keep and store it. You don’t exactly want her to guard and treasure a sweat and cum covered dress. You take a deep breath as you let his warm hand guide your body back up, tugging harshly at your wrist to draw you closer to his body. 

Namjoon hunches down and his fingers dance on your thighs, the anticipation making them stutter. He reaches the hem and softly ruffles the material. “You looked really cute today, by the way.” 

You’re left cheesing, hard, hands covering your face as you give a muffled ‘stop it’ before you huff and add a faint ‘thanks’. 

He heaves the rustling material all the way up to take it off, humming softly at the result as you try to figure out what to do with your hands. Being shy around Namjoon isn’t a regular occurrence, yet today, when his eyes have made it their job to observe your every movement, chasing your reactions to his light hearted teasing, you feel more bashful than ever. Now they look content, they sparkle, happy to be able to see what they had been imagining all day. The view is just as enticing as any of the other times he has the pleasure to undress you and have you standing barren ready to be clothed with his fervent skin.

With two steady fingers, he presses against your sternum to push you back down onto the bed. He approaches the space between your widened legs to stroke your chin, tightening his grip as he dives back into your mouth. You let your spine extend to its fullest length, pushing back against his wet hot appendage. Your grip on his slacks deepens, scrunching the textured material as you continuously tug on it, hopeful that it will let him know his advances are too calm for your liking. 

Namjoon doesn’t seem to agree, slapping your hands away the moment his reddened lips leave yours. As furrowed brows adorn your face and puffed breaths do their best to recuperate the oxygen the kiss stole from you, you clench your fists thumping your legs. You need to do something with your hands, and therefore you let your arm span across the little space between your face and his crotch. Despite the lack of full light in the room, you can see the outline, the impatient longing of his cock, as it strains against his pants. You really want to touch it. And touch, you try. But no matter how much you push, Namjoon doesn’t let you through.

“No, no, no, no. It’s your graduation, not mine. I got you.” With a small wink his head is now levelled with your chest as he plants the same smouldering pecks that are only reserved for you on your eager hands. 

The drag of his palms against your thighs burns sweetly, the sensation etching itself within your most private area to drag a needy call for him to ravage you. The pecks keep travelling from your hands down your pulsating chest and to your thighs, which are tense with unattended lust. You have the time to take a couple of full breaths before the next is trapped within your pressed lips, anticipation stilling your fidgety state. 

It’s the hot and electrifying breath of his focused body hitting your drenched panties that compulses a sudden wave of rapture through your anticipating physique. Now it’s too much. You can’t help but reach for the short deep brown strands of his head to smash his face against your wet centre. The humming resurfaces to ripple through needy walls as you shove him even closer to your throbbing heat, as impossible as it may sound. Namjoon rewards you with a firm lick to your clothed slit coating the drenched cloth ever more.

He licks again only to leave you needy as the cool air hits the scalding area. Fingers hooking around the thin material that covers your lower half, Namjoon calmly removes the barrier, contrasting with the quick shimmy of your legs. He throws the ruined piece of clothing onto his discarded jacket. 

Now, this is it. You’re impatient, somehow managing to spread your legs further apart as to flaunt your unprotected dripping center. Namjoon has a history of losing it once he saw the state he put you in. You’ve noticed the slow blinking of his eyes once his knees have scooted closer to the edge of the bed. 

His head migrates forward towards where you need him most as his hand pushes against your jitter filled stomach, prompting your head to bounce against the plush pillows as it settles down ready to be ravished. Namjoon’s affirmative arms lift your legs onto his shoulders as they hook you in place. He continues to fan his flaming breath over your shivering thighs, lips occasionally bumping against the goosebumps printed on your skin. 

“Joon pleaseeeee...”

You scramble for his head, the wait agonising. Your hands never reach their intended destination as they spread against your hip bones whilst he dives in. Just like the past moments, he comes in soft. Gentle licks from his tongue, as his slurps at your dripping pussy lips. Lips that meet his in a slow and torturous game of push and pull. To hear you moan and swear is the kind of motivation Namjoon needs to let his tongue snake its way into your tight pussy. “Oh shit,” your pleasure ridden fingers curl around his tight forearms. Your hips move on their own accord meeting the deep plunges of his strong muscle. Namjoon responds with a rougher approach, nose burying itself in your pubic bone as he reaches his hands to wrap them around your neglected breasts. 

His own ferocious pace sets you off, the lewd wet sounds of sucking and slurping mixing with your combined needy moans in the naked air to create a melodic sound that drives the both of you deeper into your pleasure. The increased intensity of your tugging and scratching at his scalp tells Namjoon that you’re close, close to where he wants you to be, in that place where he believes he gets to experience your most enticing beauty. With that in mind, he licks his lips coating himself with your arousal and letting those same lips circle themselves around your clit. He’s met with a sudden jerk of your hips, hands pressing against your stomach to keep you in place, letting his enjoyment of your current state encourage him to spiral his tongue around the sweetest spot. 

Once your strained moans manifest themselves, he brings one of his hands to your gaping hole. Warm thick fingers, plunge into your sloppy heat, slowly delving in and out determined to bring you over the edge. “Look who’s so wet for me.” You respond with an uncontrolled tug of his hair. Namjoon continues the sluggish pumping of his hand as his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit. His fingers curl inside of you, teeth scraping against your lips before hollowing his mouth around your seeping slit. His coated fingers whirl around your sensitive bud, palms kneading at the tender tissue, squeezing and releasing to the rhythm of his laps at your soaked lips, engorging himself on your sweet juices. 

“Come for me, babe,” he says as the palms of his strong hands stroke your stuttering legs. His tongue takes one last plunge, muscle tense, probing in and out of your pulsating warm pussy. All it takes is the harsh supporting pumps and curls of his fingers to make you writhe and shake as the knot in your stomach winds itself tighter and tighter. Your sweet lips keep inviting him, sucking his tongue and fingers in and Namjoon lets it all go, a satisfied groan rippling through his lips and into your agitated form. 

Even in the increasing darkness of the room, you do not dare to keep your eyes open as your body convulses into a twisting mess once you can’t handle the curling of his fingers and the gentle biting of his hungry teeth. The scream comes before the reactions as you let it all out, feet kicking out, thighs trapping Namjoon’s smiling face as you ride out the wave of pleasure that just hit you. The distinct yet tenuous swing of calming hips encourages Namjoon to lay down affectionate pecks across the expanse of your slit migrating to the top crease of your leg to lay small pinching bites. Bites that tell you to get ready, there’s more to come.

The mattress sinks deeper into the supporting structure of the bed as Namjoon slides you farther up the bed to hover over your panting chest. 

“Can you please let me see your pretty eyes?”

All you need him to do is request and you shall give. You promptly remove the arm that is laced above your eyes to give a lopsided smile. A smile that stretches as you notice the way Namjoon’s expression mimics your own, small valleys probing his cheeks. The calm staring of his eyes has your tongue dancing around your mouth, arms extending themselves to unbutton his damp shirt. Despite your haste you manage to undo the buttons at such a painfully slow paste that his hand has to lay itself on top of yours to guide you slowly and steadily down the row of small round obstacles shielding your palms from his radiating and glistening chest. 

The undoing goes by slowly, yet it feels as if it was done in a flash. Even now you seem to forget Namjoon’s ability to distort time for you. Knowing hands travel to find their rightful place on his taut chest, moving beyond the watering views to scratch at the deprived skin of his clenched back. The deep rumbling that leaves his throat leaves you rapt, your ass responding as it has you bucking into his hard member. The innocent movement starts a string of hisses, hisses that echo in the air, leaving you even more entranced with his reactions to your craving heat. 

Impatient, and unwilling to obey, your feet scramble to undress his loose slacks. Namjoon’s still perched over you, the strong stance of his arms wavering with every swipe of your wet pussy over his clothed cock. Your toes hook onto the sides of his pants pushing down to reveal his tight grey underwear, the front part decorated with small darkened spots that have you biting your lips. 

Mimicking your previous movement, he is left bare, his dick bobbing up as it’s released. It’s common procedure now for you to reach, with excited hands, for what is rightfully yours but this night happens to be filled with reminders. His ordering hand wraps around yours, bringing them to his drenched lips, “Tonight’s about you.” You get that he wants to treasure you, but you like giving and not being able to deplore all of your current ecstasy on every inch of his body has you whining, shoulder shimming side to side. 

Yet Namjoon decides to turn a blind eye to your outcry, instead focusing on letting your tight entrance know that its favourite guest is waiting eagerly to get it in. Hooking a forceful hand on your right leg, he slides the blood rushed tip of his pre-cum coated member up and down your slit, letting the tip slip so as to let the entire length of his warm member bask in the wetness of your needy pussy. A wetness that he created, made for him to plunge into. 

The squirming ends of your hands wind themselves around your exposed hair and ankles doing their best to prevent him from prolonging your burning torment by forcing him into you. Namjoon takes pity in your jolting hips as he hits his throbbing member against your tender nether lips, leaving your legs shaky. And for once you welcome the furrowed eyebrows on his concentrated face as he slides his pulsating dick, progressively stretching your needy walls, the thick member delving deeper into your slit. “Ahhh,” you sigh, content and full, walls clenching and dripping at the well-known stretch.

The minute Namjoon bottoms out, two simultaneously exhales rest in the ventilated atmosphere. Using the little force that you have left you lift yourself up, you let your abused lips catch his. You latch onto them, hands cradling his head to bring him even closer, as if that is possible. It’s your hungry exploration of a place already so familiar to your tongue that has him moaning into you whilst he delivers measured strokes into your oozing center. Despite his need to drag himself back to catch air, you don’t let go, mumbling into his clenched teeth, “Fuck me harder, Joon.” 

The lapping kisses resume alongside the quick strenuous pounding of Namjoon’s hips. All together they have you breathless and dizzy basking in the overpowering musk of his body. You mewl, biting his saliva slobbered mouth to relieve the staggering friction from his rolling hips. 

“Shit, they were right to give you that award. This honour roll pussy really is something else,” Namjoon huffs out and you let out a chuckle that morphs into squealing moans as he continues to lay down pointed strokes that keep pushing you closer and closer to the bed’s headrest. Your folds are reaching their limit, pussy clamming around the slamming thrust of his cock. Namjoon chews the inside of his cheek, letting the intimidating protrusion of his clenched jaw set you back in place. In place being pointed nipples lazily grazing his chest, arms grounding the last of your sanity on his steady form and panting mouth finding refuge in the deep crevice of his neck. 

“Babe, come on,” he warns.

“Whattttt,” you whine. It’s not your fault your body can’t control itself.

He gulps a good chunk of your breast and bites it harshly. It has the adverse effect, what should have been a warning only has you more heated. A big slap sounds and your legs clench tighter around his ass cheeks as Namjoon completely bottoms out only to stop. His hands find purchase in your ruffled exposed hair, elbows trapping your head, as he mutters into your boiling ear, “Be still.” You can do nothing but whine and pout trying your best to be obedient giving him small nods despite your restricted head. Namjoon doesn’t flatter, he remains still as your composure wavers every few seconds. It all results in teasing bites along your ear and the sides of your face. 

You feel like you’re dying, of bliss that is. He still won’t move and you have managed to not let your involuntary needs take over your motor skills. It’s the tender stroking of his hand on your cap covered head that lets you know you have done well. Yet Namjoon’s slight chuckling whisper confirms your beliefs, “Let’s graduate baby.”

The languid thrusts turn into audible pounding, squelching sounds feeling your ears as your multiple tries at breathing fail, the air stopping in your throat resulting in inaudible gasps. The rupture of your orgasm manifests itself in your bones, your arms and legs trembling, eager to let Namjoon’s own edged body know how the blistering attack his thick cock on your craving walls is an all-consuming experience that you welcome with a wall piercing moan, “AHHH… fuck.., Joon hmmm.”

The thrusts have now turned frantic, as they miss their intended aim. He’s almost there. You engulf him into your chest, placing soft encouraging bites along his uptight shoulder as his nails anchor themselves on your slippery back. 

“Congratulations, baby, you deserve it.” Those are the words he uses to invigorate the warm spurt of his cum, coating your squeezing pussy as your hands, placing on the warm globes of his ass, press him closer to your bucking center. You want it all, to be filled to the brink and claiming what is rightfully yours. For sure, the best graduation gift you’ve ever received. You let the remaining ripples make their way through his body, caressing his arms as your faces drag against each other. 

Namjoon opens his mouth only to let his slack body fall on top of yours, drained but content. You’re left to snicker as you thread your fingers through his sweat drenched hair strands. “Hmm, now would be a great time to have some champagne.” You point towards the bucket bottle. He shifts his head to have his chin right on your chest looking up at you. 

He looks at you for a short while as if he was imprinting the sight of your makeup smeared and sweaty face on the back of his mind. His hand reaches to take hold of the visor of your graduation cap, with a firm hold on the leather covered material he tugs the cap off and throws it into the air. “Oh!” you exclaim laughing as you clap. 

“Happy graduation, Y/N, you did it,” Namjoon says with a kiss between your cooling boobs. You place a chaste kiss to his forehead before pushing him off of you with the little remaining force you could conjure up. 

Apprehensive steps take you to the chilled metal bucket. Before you can snatch the bottle into your hands, ready to allow your mind to become hazy enough to have another round filled with even more erratic cries, Namjoon reaches for the bottle from behind you. Knowledgeable joints fiddle with the metal string, thumb pressuring the cork top into the air. You twiddle with your tired hands to hold the two champagne glasses, however still swimming in your ecstatic mood you manage to spill some champagne onto the ground. 

You take a big swig of the champagne, somehow behaving drunk even without the alcohol. Another one of Namjoon’s admirable characteristics. To put you in such a euphoric state that overwhelms your senses and solidifies his place in your heart. It could have been the champagne, your undeniable infatuation with the sweet man in front of you, or the gaze that he gave you as if he was seeing you for the first time once again, as if there’s still details for him to catch and memorise. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter, not as you stand on the tips of your toes to plant a few pecks on his lips. And for good measure, in case the message isn’t clear, you slip in a couple of ‘thank yous’ and ‘love yous’, all while hoping your future reserves a whole array of ‘Room 2020s’.

Posted: June 18 2020 a/n: Hope you liked it, feel free to let me know your thoughts 🥺

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

Kirby had arrived on the Rainbow Islands completely focused on the idea of a vacation, but found himself unable to speak at the sight laid out before his eyes. The formerly beautiful Rainbow Islands had completely changed: The ground was covered in cracks, and the plants were wilting; The rivers and lakes were almost completely dried up, leaving only a few puddles, in which the small fish were hopping about, seemingly suffering.

“This is really bad...”

Kirby sat down on the dry ground in protest. King Dedede had been merrily holding his life preserver in one hand before seeing the terrible sight, causing his expression to turn grim.

“Yup... We can’t just ignore this. This isn’t the right time for a vacation!”

Bandana Waddle Dee looked up at the king, anxiety present in his eyes.

“Great King, what’s going on?!”

“I have no idea, but I’ve got a feeling this isn’t just a natural disaster���”

King Dedede took off his sunglasses and looked around at the scenery with a sharp gaze.

“Someone must’ve done this. If we don’t find out who did this, it won’t rain here forever!”

“Indeed. I agree.”

A heavy voice came from behind the king and Kirby. The two looked back. There stood the masked swordsman Meta Knight, along with his men. Kirby quickly stood up.

“Meta Knight!” he yelled. “You came to help us!”

“I have received a report from Captain Vul. He seemed more excited than usual to save the Rainbow Islands.”

Meta Knight looked back at Captain Vul.

“Uh-Um-Umm- It’s simply my responsibility as a member of Dream Land’s military to save the citizens when they’re in trouble! Lord Meta Knight, surely you would never abandon the Rainbow Islands!”

“Indeed.”

Meta Knight waved his cape as he turned to face Kirby.

“The damage is more serious than I had thought. If we do not act fast, the Rainbow Islands shall fall to utter ruin.”

“Uh-huh!”

Kirby nodded his head in agreement.

“We’ve gotta do something! But how can we make it rain?”

“First of all, investigate. It is possible that someone has put a curse on the Rainbow Islands. Look for anything unusual.”

“Got it! Let’s go look together!”

“The Rainbow Islands have a lot of ground to cover,” Rick said, “let’s split up and investigate. I’ll try to look around this island with Kirby. Meta Knight’s team, Dedede’s team, go look around the other islands.”

“Alright.”

“Leave it to me!” the king said. “I’ll take out the bad guy behind this as soon as I find them!”

Meta Knight led his subordinates North; Dedede and his Waddle Dees went South; Then Kirby, Rick, Kine, and Coo searched around the hinterland of the central island.

Split into three teams, the investigation had finally begun.

~~~~~

Kirby and co. pushed aside the withered trees as they made their way toward the heart of the island.

“OWW!!! OWIEEEEEEEE!!!!”

The loud yells came from Kine. Despite how he had been training so that he’d be able to live on land, he still wasn’t that good at moving around on the ground. Every time the group would push past a withered tree, his fins would get stuck on a branch.

“You’re not really built for looking around on land,” Rick said, “you can sit this one out.”

“Not a chance!~” Kine responded stiffly. I’m a member of the research team, after all- OUCHIE!!!”

“If we’re ‘investigating,’ what are we looking for?” Kirby asked. “Meta Knight said someone probably cursed the islands, but-”

“Basically,” Rick said, “you’ll have to find evidence of there being a curse.”

“What would be evidence?”

“Something like... a dark magic altar, or some kind of evil mystical barrier? A doll nailed to a tree, some kind of ritual sacrifice-”

“Whaaaat?!”

Kine, having forgotten to complain about his pain, got up, trembling.

“I-I’m scared~! I don’t wanna get cursed~!”

“It’s ok! If we find the magic altar, I’ll destroy it on sight!”

“I-It’s no good, Rick. I’ll just end up getting cursed anyway~.”

He appeared to be on the verge of tears when the group heard a voice call out from the sky.

“I see something strange ahead of us.”

It was Coo. He continued to fly over the trees, surveying the land from high above.

“What is it?” Kine asked as he trembled. “A cursed altar?” A doll?”

“No, nothing of that sort. It seems that someone has fallen from the sky.”

“Huh?”

“Come this way.”

Coo flew up high. Kirby and the others followed him. Then… past the withering plants, someone in white clothes could be seen on the ground.

“Oh, you’re right!”

“This is the girl who fell. Is she ok?”

Kirby and the gang hurried toward where the person fell. Coo also swooped down from the sky. There, they found a young girl in white clothes. She was round, yet healthy, with short limbs, transparent wings on her back, and ribbon tied in a bow in her curly hair.

“C’mon, wake up!”

Rick shook the young girl awake. She opened her eyes lightly. She blinked repeatedly, looking around at the group, and spoke with a frail voice:

“Thi… This place… Where…? You all…?”

“This place is called the Rainbow Islands,” Kirby replied, “I’m Kirby, and these are my friends Rick, Kine, and Coo. And you are-?”

“I… am Pirka.”

“Why did you fall asleep in a place like this? Are you hungry?”

At the sound of Kirby’s happy-go-lucky voice, Pirka narrowly smiled.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping. I-”

Pirka looked up at the sky.

“-fell down.”

“Fell? From where?”

“From the clouds above.”

Pirka pointed at the blue sky. Just above, a small cloud was floating. It was a strangely ominous blueish color.

“From all the way up there?!” Kine shouted in surprise. “Are you ok?!”

Kirby and co. took another look at Pirka. She had a couple injuries here and there. There were a few scratches on her hands and face, and her wings appeared to be aching as well. Both her clothes and bow were dirty. Rick looked worried.

“You’re lucky you survived after a fall like that,” he said, “it’s a miracle.”

“High places aren’t a problem for me. After all, I have wings.”

“But you have all those bruises-”

“These weren’t caused by the fall. I-”

Pirka was about to speak, but Coo interrupted her.

“We’ll listen to your story later. First of all, you need treatment for those wounds.”

“Yeah!”

Kirby nodded his head.

“If you wanna get better, you’re gonna have to eat something. I know that I feel better when I’m full!”

If that’s the case,” Rick said, “let’s go to my house. My girlfriend Pick makes great snacks. She can bake a delicious cake for you.”

“My wife’s a good cook too~,” Kine said “I bet she’ll make you a whole healthy meal. Come on, Pirka.”

“...thank you.”

Pirka took Kirby’s hand and stood up. Together, the group made their way back to the village where Rick and the others’ homes were. Meta Knight and King Dedede, who had received the news, had already gotten to Rick’s house. The king stared at Pirka scrutinizingly.

“Is that girl the culprit?” he asked. “Did she put a curse on the Rainbow Islands so it wouldn’t rain?”

“Nah,” Kirby said, “this is Pirka! She fell down here from above the clouds.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“He means-”

Pirka got cut off by none other than Rick’s girlfriend, Pick.

“Don’t rush like that. Pirka, take a break and have a bite to eat. You need to recover your strength. I made cream puffs. Please, help yourself.”

“We have sandwiches too,” said Mine, Kine’s wife, “and nutritious soup and salad.”

King Dedede, seeing all the tasty-looking food, licked his lips.

“Oh, now doesn’t this look tasty! Maybe I can just have one bi-”

“NO YOU CAN’T!!!” Pick and Mine shouted together, blocking the path of the king.

“This is for Pirka, not you!”

“Yes. We made these for Pirka, so hands off!”

As one would expect, King Dedede was overwhelmed by the two’s force.

“Wh-What? If that’s the case, then what do I get?”

The persistent king was stopped by Meta Knight.

“Wait, Dedede. Now, let’s hear Pirka’s story first. I find the part about her falling from above the clouds concerning. Pirka, would you mind sharing your story as you eat?”

“Yes.”

Pirka nodded her head in agreement before speaking.

“I am a traveler. I do not have my own house, so I travel all around the stars. I had a lot of fun visiting the Rainbow Islands and watching the pretty blue sea, but…”

Pirka’s expression became clouded.

“One day, some uncanny creature happened to see me.”

“Uncanny…?”

“Yes. That thing floated high into the sky, floating on the wind. While I was wondering what it was, it disappeared into the clouds. Erm, immediately after, it stopped raining in the Rainbow Islands.”

“What’s that?” King Dedede asked, leaning forward. “I mean, you’re telling me that whatever that creature was, it’s the one that cursed the Rainbow Islands? Can you tell us what it looked like?!”

“King Dedede, please be quiet for just a little bit,” Mine said to the king.

“Please let Pirka finish speaking,” Pick said, nodding in agreement, “she’s gone through a lot. Let’s all be quiet and listen.”

“U-Um… I understand.”

As his friends, Meta Knight and Kirby usually let the domineering king do whatever he pleased. However, this pair proved to be too much for the king to handle. He meekly backed down. Pirka continued to tell her tale.

“I had come to the same conclusion as King Dedede. I assumed that the creature was up to no good, so I tried to pursue it.”

“By yourself?!” Kine said, astonished. “That’s dangerous~! You should’ve asked someone to go with you.”

“I’m a traveler, so I always act alone.”

Pirka took a bite of her sandwich and continued.

“Looking over the clouds, the most peculiar sight was laid out before me: There was a beautiful lake, with lots and lots of water stored in it.”

“A lake? Above the clouds?” Kirby asked. Pirka nodded her head.

“Yes. There was so much water, it looked as if it were about to overflow. I was wondering how there could be so much water there if it wouldn’t rain… when…”

Pirka turned pale.

“Um, the uncanny creature appeared. It obstructed the waterflow from the lake. That’s why it hasn’t been raining.”

“What’s that??” King Dedede barked. This time, neither Pick nor Mine bothered trying to stop him. “Who even is that thing anyway?? Why would it even do that??”

“I don’t know. Quite loudly, I asked, ‘why would you do such a thing?!’ but the creature wouldn’t answer. It just attacked me without warning.”

Pirka quivered.

“I didn’t have the powers to fight it. It easily beat me in combat, beat me up, and pushed me off the clouds. Since I had wings, I managed to avoid plummeting head first into the ground, but it was too much for me… I fainted. Since then, until you all saved me, I had been unconscious.”

For a moment, Kirby and the others were silent, deep in thought. The one to break the silence was Coo.

“Vital information. We cannot ignore this. We must capture that scoundrel who’s blocking the flow of the lake!”

“Yeah.”

Meta Knight nodded his head.

“We must attack immediately. Kirby, Dedede, are you ready?”

The two both nodded yes.

“Yeah, I’m ready!”

“Obviously! Now’s my time to shine!”

“I’ll go too!” said Rick. Then, without a moment’s delay, Kine joined too.

“Me too~! We’ve gotta get that bad guy!”

“Of course, I’ll be joining as well,” said Coo. Pick and Mine chimed in, concern evident in their voices.

“Rick… How will you get above the clouds?”

“Indeed. Kine, you can’t fly.”

“We’ll be fine~!” Kine said. Rick nodded and puffed out his chest.

“We’re lucky to have Coo on our side! I know he’ll be able to get us all up there!”

“Don’t say such absurd things,” Coo said sternly, “I am incapable of flying to such a height while carrying all of you.”

“But-”

Meta Knight interrupted Rick.

“I can provide assistance. I’ll prepare a smaller boat onboard my battleship, the Halberd. It should be able to take you above the clouds.”

“Thanks a lot! Now that that’s decided, let’s not waste any more time!” Rick said, full of energy. Meta Knight looked at Pirka.

“Pirka, you may rest here. We’ll punish the culprit by any means necessary.”

“...no. I’ll come with you all too,” Pirka said, deep thought evident in her eyes.

“Pirka, it’s fine if you don’t come~,” Kine said, “Stay here, Pick and Mine can make you a nice home-cooked meal to help you recover. You’ve gotta take it easy-”

“No.”

Pirka shook her head.

“I’m the only one who can give you the directions to where it happened. I want to make myself the slightest bit useful. Please, take me with you.”

Rick nodded his head.

“Pirka has a point. She’s the only one who’s seen what the culprit looks like. Let’s bring her with us, just in case.”

“Just don’t be a hindrance,” King Dedede said, “hide behind me when it gets dangerous.”

“Yes sir!”

Pirka nodded her head strongly.

“If you’re going to go out on an adventure, Rick,” Pick said, “then take this.”

“Huh?”

Pick took off a small bag from her own neck, then hung it around Rick’s.

“I knitted this. It’s a pouch with a charm inside. It’ll surely project everyone.”

“Pick…”

Moved, Rick took Pick’s hand.

“Thanks. I’ll be back!”

“We'll do our best~!” Kine said in an uncharacteristically valiant voice, “I know we’ll bring the rain back, won’t we?”

“Kine, please be careful," Mine said.

“Great King,” Bandana Waddle Dee said, looking up at King Dedede, “please stay safe. Kirby, you too.”

“Got it! We’ll do our best!”

Kirby cheerfully raised one of his hands up.

“Everyone, let’s go above the clouds! BYE-BYEEEEE!”

< Previous | Table of Contents | Next >

[faintblueivy]

Alphabet of Shikatema

Ah, well, here’s a new Shikatema piece from me! I’ve been wanting to try this for them a while now. Hope you all like it!!!

...

A – Affection

She knows that she’s never been efficient in showing affection. Yells of 'you idiot', punches of concern, and a tongue lashing of worry was all she could offer at times. But somehow he always sees past that, thanks her and tells her, “I’ll try not to repeat that.”

B – Bachelor

It’s unsettling when his photo and profile appears in a magazine in the list of most eligible bachelors in the five great nations. They talk about how he’s a war hero, a genius strategist and the head of prestigious Nara clan. He is very curious about what a particular Suna kunoichi thinks about this.

C – Cloud

Cloud watching was his favourite past time. But when her eyes flick across the vast expanse of blue above dotted with whiteness, she wonders when it became hers too.

D – Daughter

She’s is the daughter of her parents. But Shikamaru chokes on his tea when his mother gushes over how much she would love to have Temari as her daughter, a day too soon after their first meeting.

E – Exception

Temari doesn’t like to provide comfort or sugar-coat things. Well, she’s not very kind to men in general. Her brothers may be exceptions but it’s not soon enough when two other men join the list as well. One of them, she calls him her husband and other is the tiny crying child on her lap.

F – Fear

She understands the source of her fear when the Hokage tells her about Shikamaru's latest mission in a tight voice. And it haunts her till he’s in front of her. Pinned down. But alive.

G – Game

It’s a little weird to see a miniature version of himself, with sparkling green eyes, right across the tiny shoji board. It’s hard to explain the rules of the game to a child but the warmth that swells up in his chest at the scene makes him wonder if this is what his father had felt back then.

H – Hair

He’s exhausted and sleeping. And to be honest, Temari has always been quite curious about his hair. They way he ties it up makes him look like a pineapple head. She tries to imagine how he would look with his hair down though.

I – Idea

Strategies and plans flow to him when he concentrates enough. But when it comes to her, no matter how hard he tries, he has no idea how to even propose for a date on a nearby Ramen stand.

J – Journey

The journey between Suna and Konoha takes approximately three days. But when they travel together, the time ends up way too soon.

K – Kicked

Her loud gasp makes him drop the large sheaf of papers and files. He jumps over the mess, races to the kitchen. The alarm on his face is real when he finds her bending over with an arm over her womb. But she immediately looks up, her eyes shining with unveiled happiness and places his hand on her swollen belly. It takes a moment before Shikamaru’s louder gasp echoes throughout the house.

“He kicked!”

L – Light

The light of the candle flickers in the shrine dedicated to his father. His vision is hazy with tears as he extends the sleeping infant in his arms to show the photo of the man.

“Look dad, he’s…mine. Your grandkid. Mother named him Shikadai. Are you happy there? Cause I sure am.”

M – Mornings

Mornings with him are lazy. But should she be surprised?

N – Nights

There are nights when they find each other on the porch, trembling with the pain of having lost comrades and loved ones in the horrid war. But it makes them move forward solemnly towards the peace to preserve the future.

O – Older

“You know, I’m older than you are.”

Shikamaru tries to deduce where that came from. Her eyes are focused on somewhere beyond the sun they were supposed to be watching roll down. It takes him a moment before he responds.

“I know that. But you’re already too troublesome. I can’t imagine how troublesome would it be to deal with a younger version of yours.”

It is then her lovely laugh rings out in the meadow.

P – Perfection

He has always known that perfection is just an illusion. But when she wakes up in the morning, hair all dishevelled, eyes droopy and the sleeve of the night dress slipping down her shoulder feeding their infant son, it defines perfection for him.

Q – Quarrel

The first time they had a marital quarrel, he was kicked out of the house. And it was also the first time that she stepped out in midnight to drag him back home. It became a ritual somehow.

R – Rain

For having always lived in a desert enclosed land, Temari hadn’t witnessed torrential rain like this. So Shikamaru is stunned when he comes home to find his wife drenched to the bone, still out in the backyard, rainwater pelting against her skin, eyes closed and a genuine smile that spoke millions on her face.

And he swears that it is the most breath-taking sight in the world.

S – Sun

She talks about her mother sometimes, comparing her to the sun, telling him how the woman brightened up everyone’s lives around her and how the love was so much abundant in her heart. And the way her eyes shine as she talks, Shikamaru loves it all.

T – Trust

He trusted her blindly. Because she was the one to have seen him at his weakest, because she was the one to come to his aid and protect him when he needed someone strong.

U – Unforgettable

She watches him pray at his teachers’s gravestone regularly and often gathers up the courage to accompany him. She doesn’t stop him when he smokes only one particular day of the year and offers him her shoulder to cry upon because she understands there will always be some people and their memories in your life who would be unforgettable.

V – Valuable

Due to their position so up high in the social ladder of their respective villages - a lot of council members, socio-political experts and commoners believe their marriage to be just a treaty. And obviously, it irks them. But on their wedding day, the genuine way Gaara smiles and Kakashi's eyes crinkle beneath his mask and their friends tease them, they understand that the people closest to them have always considered their bond much more valuable than that.

W – Wishful

It’s her wishful thinking that he would wear their wedding ring always, if possible. But she never really expects him to wear it around his neck and show it off to the world.

X – Xylographs

Nara clan has a ritual of engraving the name of the head of the clan and their consort on the sacred wood tablets. Shikamaru feels his heart pound in his ears as the artist xylographs her name beside him.

Y – Yes

Her 'Yes' to his 'Will you marry me?' is an awkward kiss to stop him from embarrassing himself further because he’s such a bumbling mess that he eats half of what he wants to say and she had enough of waiting done.

Z – Zenith

Their love was always at it’s zenith. Shikadai knew it. Throughout the one-sided arguments, weird flirting and soft smiles their love stood undaunted. He places a flower between the two graves that stand beside each other and whispers a 'thank you' into the wind.

...

I wanted it to be a little deep and I hope I succeeded in catching glimpses of their life together. Aaaahhh, do share your thoughts me! Please?

[kennyswifu-blog]

Corpse Park chapter 1

Craig: oh IM SORRY! It’s not MY FAULT you guys are PIECES OF SHi-

Thomas; THATS IT MR. YOU ARE GROUNDED!

Craig: CANT DO THAT! I’m 18 THOMAS im not your kid! I don’t even LOOK LIKE YOU AND MOM! I’m probably adopted!

Thomas: IF YOUR NOT OUR OUR KID THEN GET OUUT!

Craig: whatever, I’m seriously tired of this

Tweeks POV

I’m In so much trouble! My parents are going to find out AND KILL ME GAHHHH, TOO MUCH PRESSURE x<

Tweek: if they find out me and Craig..... and Clyde, Token, Kenny, Kyle, Stan, and cartman, that we drank last night?! Oh no- AH GAGGGG

Tweek parents: tweek, sweetie, come down stairs

Tweet: GAH THEY KNOW-

tweeks mom: know what?

Tweek: that- um I’m gay! And that I love them a lot

Tweeks mom: oh yes we know that.

Tweek then starts to calm down after awhile and then soon got a call by Craig.

Craig: hey- I was kicked out of my h-house a-and- ca-can I c-c-come o-over?

Tweek: Craig! Are you ok AHHH

Craig: y-y-yes h-h-hone-ey.....

Tweak: ok Craig...... are you sure?

Craig: y-YES (not a yell though like a crying loud sounds?¿?)

Tweak: ok- and let me ask- ok?

Craig: ok- thanks H-Honey <3 love you-

Tweak: love you to-

Craig hanged up before hearing tweak. He waits for a response.

Craig POV

I wonder why it’s taking so long for tweak just to ask his parents.... I might as well go to the cabin that we broke cartmans electronics. Hah, memories.... hmmmm... I wonder how he’s been, he never talks to me anymore after-..... what I did...... I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me for what- uh.... mistake I made, it wasn’t even tweaks fault but he gets punished for being my boyfriend....

After Stan moved away to the farm, Kyle has been pretty lonely..... Kyle tried dating him to get them closer but- it made it worse..... Wendy found out and tried kicking his ASS. Of course she failed cause she’s a weak bitch- i mean “lady” well it’s not my fault, she is one. Poor Kyle just wanted Stan to understand he wants to just be “closer” hah just made it rhyme-

*ring*

Message from ❤️tweak❤️. Hey sweetie, for some reason they said no- but we can go and hang out at the abandoned cabin with everyone else?

Craig: I’m already a step ahead of you! Meet you there at 12:20? Or sooner? It’s only 11:59 right now, so do whatever floats your boat, cowboy!

Tweak: gee.... you sound like a dad.... ARE YOU PREGNANT?!? Wait.... AM I PREGNANT!??!???! AHHH THIS IS TO MUCH PRESSURE!!!!!

Craig: Lol, we cant be pregnant! We’re guys...... cya later honey

Tweak: ok.... bye!

Tweaks POV

Craig and I been together since 4th grade. And we’re in high school, it’s a big deal for us! Clyde and Bebe, broke up.... oh token and nikole are doing bad- Kyle and Stan never are going to be “something” Kyle and cartman- lets just say..... cartman will always have a flat heart after it.....

FLASHBACK———>

“Kahl, I must tell you the truth..... I’ve been- UG- I’m in love with you ok!” Kyle had the meanest face expression ever..... “are you fucking serious?! You made Stan HATE ME! And you made everyone think I WAS SOMETHING BAD!!!! AND YOU CALLED MY MOM A BIG FAT BITCH, AND YOU MAKE FUN OF ME FOR BEING A JEW!?! And WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY IS kalh I love you nynynyny, SEROUSLY FUCK YOU!” Cartman froze and let’s just say after that the hospital was needed there at the scene

END OF FLASHBACK————>

I must say, I’m happy Craig isn’t like that- I must say, he’s good to be around...... when you get under his skin...... he’s a real lover.....

Later......

I started sneaking out after my parents died after drinking to much. Not really though just passes out- anyways....

Craig: when will u be here I’m bored X(

Tweak: on my way! Just hold on. I waited till my parent passes out after all that bear.

After awile everyone got their

Clyde: u say we play this game, it takes you to a world of nightmares making your darkest dreams come true...

Token: it sounds fun and might be fake-

Kenny: UNLESS WE TRY IT, token, we won’t know? Anyways is it possible we can die there

Clyde: oh you bet your sweet ass!

Kenny: LIT AND don’t say that.... I know I’m thick but I get it- you guys have fun dying.

Clyde: you not playing pussy?

Kenny: oh I am, I just can’t die.

Clyde: loser, still with that?

Kenny: because it’s true!

Clyde: sure thing partner

Stan: lets just start

Kyle: yea it might be fun to see FATASS CARTMAN SUFFER!

Cartman: shut up ye FUKin a Jew! I’m not fat I’m big boned....

Kyle: whateve-

Stan: OMG SHUT UPPP-

Kenny: why did they come? Who invited these losers?

Token: lets just do this already.

Tweak: oh GAH OH GOD NO?!

Craig: it’s ok honey it’s not real.

Tweak: GAH you sure- IT SEEMS DANGEROUS!!!!

Craig: honey- please?

Tweak: if it works IM BEING YOUR WORSE NIGHTMARE! AHHH

Craig: ok honey.

Clyde: the ritual need blood from all of us. We put it on the door only a minute from 3, then you will see, they night will become decay? Only one will know the right way out, just be quite and don’t shout, survive till 6, with all your sticks and don’t forget the blood.... so collect sticks and put blood on the door ok..... wait decay? Like what? Zombies BLEEHHH.

Craig; your an idiot... lets just do it

They all collected sticks and came back with 6 to open the gate to hell. Tweek almost threw up from fear but overcame it with a hug and kiss from Craig.... after it was done at first nothing happened but were they wrong? Yes, they were. The room turned dark, darker than black, and they got sleepy, maybe to sleepy and woke up 6 days late....

A dark land of fog, nothing here but us... what happened that night and are they in the world?

Find out next episode..... #southpark #horror #risk

[shealwaysreads]

Sterek Fic Recs: The Magic!Stiles Edition

You Only Live Once...Or Twice by @teenshmolf

““Anything,” Derek’s eyes are determined, boring into Stiles’.

Stiles huffs a laugh, “Careful there, big guy. Don’t want to be promising anything to every necromancer you meet. Some might ask for your soul or someth—”

“I’ll give you my soul to bring her back,” Derek says, his voice steady and strong with resolve, “if that’s what you want.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes open for a moment before his brain kicks into gear and he stutters out, “N-no, I don’t ask for that. I only ask for money.”

(Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?)”

This is a really gorgeous fic, full of emotion and it’s fair share of angst but it never feels overdone or hopeless. The characters are all beautifully written, and Stiles and Derek are lovely together. There are major character deaths, which is not something I would usually read, but I just think it is all handled so well that it is worth giving a shot. It has a happy, hopeful ending with resolution of the angst, and our boys driving off into the sunset cracking awful zombie related jokes. Oh. And prepare for Jackson to be your favourite character.

Kiss Me Under the Light of a Thousand Stars by @deleted-scenes

““It was a true love spell,” he admits quietly. “It was supposed to help me find my true love. And apparently I suck at magic as much as I suck at dating because I screwed this up too.”

~~~

In which Stiles' Valentine's Day love spell goes very wrong.

Or perhaps very right.”

This is so so sweet, and so so cute. You’re going to love it. Stiles casts his spell and then Derek fixes it. Derek’s perspective is so well done, and you get to see the full extent of his badass exterior giving way to the marshmallow we all know he is on the inside!

I Fall So Hard And I Call It Magic by @fishcommander 

“Stiles smells different.

It wasn't obvious at first—his car, his clothes, the people closest to him, they all smell enough like his old scent that it overpowers anything new. As far as emotions go, there's the usual anxiety, stress, tension, exhaustion, guilt.

But the base notes of his scent, the primary olfactory information anyone would use to track Stiles, are… stronger now, and not in a way that relates to being unwashed. They're sharper, more noticeable, less human and more…

Magical.”

This is such good fun, lots of moments that made me laugh, fantastic characterisations, and Derek’s perspective is just as sardonic as you think it would be. Stiles and his magic are just so...Stiles. And the way it all unfolds is lovely - the last lines will put a big smile on your face because secretly-a-dork Derek Hale is a beautiful thing.

Night Owls Early Birds  by @lissadiane

“Confession: Stiles is afraid of having magic.

The Spark had been cool. It had been small, manageable. He could do some funky stuff with Mountain Ash, all with the power of belief.

And now here he is, his Spark blown wide open, apparently coming down with a fatal case of magical overload, and all that stands between him and bleeding out is a grumpy owl that looks suspiciously like a feathered version of Derek Hale.

(In which Stiles learns he's a witch, but instead of a wand and a trip to Diagon Alley, he gets blood magic, a grumpy and reluctant owl as his companion, and an accidental blood bond with Derek Hale.)”

This is a fantastic story, with an equally fantastic equal, with a darker side to Stiles having magic. It’s really well written, with funny moments as well as some more horror themed moments! You are going to love Steve. Heed the warnings my lovelies, there is blood and gore throughout. But there is also lovely friendships and Stereky goodness too!

Werewolf Married by @inell

“Shealwaysreads said the perfect summary for this series is: 'Wherein Stiles nuts and runs, suspects any and all fairytale endings, but falls foul of sustained and earnest wooing by his alpha prince Derek Hale'”

I debated keeping this series for a soulmate fic rec, but this has badass Emissary!Stiles and is one of the most fun series I’ve read in a long time, written by my babe @inell. There’s your classic masquerade ball to kick things off, with a werewolf mating bite, but that’s where the standard trope ends. This Stiles is definitely not one for conforming to expectations, and instead of an instant happily-ever-after you get to read a beautifully real feeling relationship develop. The smut is scorching, the fluff is blush inducing, and the characters are amazing. You will love Stiles-Scott-Allison. And you will be so glad to have read this series!

In Desperate Times by @nokomisss

“Stiles gets magic wish-granting powers, but only when he's in danger. He begins to teleport to Derek in increasingly awkward moments.”

This fic had me quite literally wheezing with laughter in bed when I read it. It’s just got so many perfect moments - Derek’s infamous backflip, lucky charms, sneak-attacks. This will all make sense when you read it. Which you should. It’s a ball from beginning to end!

Echo by @saucefactory

“Soon after Deaton begins training him, Stiles starts weaving talismans for the pack.”

This is melancholy and so so beautifully written. Derek’s perspective is the perfect way to see the way that Stiles’ magic is changing him. It’s a really lovely little fic.

Misdirection by @bleep0bleep

“Derek's just moved back to Beacon Hills with his young daughter, whose newest favorite thing is Mr. Stiles and his magic shop. Derek likes Stiles a lot too, except he's a bit worried about how Stiles' magic is... actually real, and the local pack and their Emissary might find that a problem.”

This whole fic is completely adorable. You get yourself a lovely bit of single dad!Derek, magic!Stiles, and a beautifully settled and successful pack in Beacon Hills. Gena and Jimmy are the cutest kids, and Derek and Stiles are just as sweet. It’s a lovely, fluffy little fic to put a smile on your face.

Professional Werewolf Witch by @actualbird

“"Are you going to buy anything else?" Professional Eyebrows says and Stiles would like to buy him. A cup of coffee. On a date.

He just ends up pointing at the crate of whatever the fuck is behind Professional Eyebrows' head and says, "Uh, a box of that stuff."

P.E. turns, glances at the crate, and raises an eyebrow at Stiles. "You want a box of charmed rattlesnake tail?" God, magic is so fucking weird.

"Yeah." Stiles nods because he's making an ass out of himself. The hipster vampire browsing in the corner is not so subtly laughing at him. The sooner he leaves the better.

-

The one where Derek Hale is a Professional Werewolf Witch who owns a magic shop and Stiles fails at being smooth on a regular basis.”

The one where Stiles and Derek are both magical! This is hilarious from start to finish, and all of the accompanying cast are awesome. Scott and his love of dogs is basically who I am inside. This is fluffy and sweet with the perfect amount of snark for our two boys!

Soul seeker by @deleted-scenes

“Sighing, Stiles reaches for Derek’s big hands, cradled in his broad lap, his skin lighting up even more at Derek's touch. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing himself to look for Derek’s soulmate. Whoever you are, he thinks, you better be worth him.”

Okay, so I love everything that deleted-scenes writes - and this is no exception. Stiles’ magic in this fic is really well thought out and the way he and Derek interact is just so perfect. Stiles’ perspective is lovely, and his reaction to Derek is absolutely so on point. The whole fic just makes you happy, and the ending is too beautiful - I adore the scene of Derek protectively held by Stiles.

The Color of Magic by vampireisthenewblack

“Stiles has to perform some kind of protection spell/ritual to stop the latest threat to BH, but according to Deaton and his terrible, terrible magic books, it requires that he willingly take the ‘life essence’ of an alpha within him so he can power the spell. Yep, semen, because druids were giant pervs back in the day. And apparently that shit is like a magical battery.”

This is so much fun from start to finish, very much a magic made them do it scenario - but I’m sure they would have got there on their own in the end! I love the interactions between Derek and Stiles throughout, and the ending is perfect. Not to mention the amazing smut in between ;)

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by @coyotequeens

“There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.”

I love this fic a lot - it’s one I’ve re-read and honestly every time I read it I love it just as much. It’s beautifully written, and the whole idea of this town-wide pack is so incredibly pleasing. The sterek is slow build, but it’s perfectly done and it’s exactly how the characters would behave in this au I think. You will love all of the characters, and the world building, and oh - the Sheriff - you’re going to love him a lot. All I can say is you are in for a fantastic, long, and really satisfying read. You’ll thank me for it.

B.S.T.P.H.T by @uniwolfwerecorn

“Before Derek has the presence of mind to object, Stiles pushes the paper in his hands and makes for his jeep. “Just read it, okay?” is the last thing he says before slamming the door shut.

He starts the engine, and drives away in record time with gravel scrunching under his tires while Derek stands there dumfounded. He accelerates unusually fast, and the jeep’s back lights disappear into the night.

What. The. Fuck.”

This fic is a great imagining of what the alpha pack could have been like, and the ways that the Hale pack would have been stuck for ideas of how to save themselves. Stiles is a spark in this and enacts a ritual to protect the pack and their assorted loved ones. Derek’s perspective is lovely in this, and his view of the whole pack, and the way he takes Stiles’ advice (which works ofc) is really great to read. And the sex. Whoa boy. Awkward and tender and hot all at once.

Living Links by Miya_Morana

“This is it, he thinks as he dips his fingers into the bowl. No coming back. Once you tie yourself to a pack, to an Alpha, it’s a connection that’ll always be there.”

Oh boy. Short and sweet and so sexy - magical finger-painting is my new fave.

Writ in Hecate’s ink on willing skin by Lenore

"As you're always so fond of pointing out, you're the alpha. When bad shit happens to you, it affects all of us. If someone wants to use your alpha mojo or your wolf force or," Stiles waves his hand, "whatever you want to call it for diabolical purposes? We need to be ready."

This is great - I love the concept of the spell, and the intensity of the ritual itself. And I think with Stiles’ belief written all over him, our Derek will end up bulletproof.

Love Always Wakes The Dragon by hoars

“If you could only protect one person, who would it be?”

“Derek.”

“What would you do to keep him alive? What would you give up?”

“Anything. Everything.”

This is a really unusual fic, the narrative is not chronological, but it is beautifully weaved together. The Hale Pack that is imagined is a strange and dangerous one, but the future they have is beautiful. This fic might not be for everyone, but I really loved it. Try it, I think you’ll like it.

Of Course by @captainbuckingamerica 

“Semantics, Derek thinks. All Derek really remembers is the press of Stiles' lips against his, warm and wet, Stiles' mouth tasting like blue cotton candy, and Stiles' fingers curling into his shirt, and the clack of the roller coaster carts thundering above them. Derek hasn't kissed all that many people in his life, but Stiles is the best kiss he's ever had. He loves kissing Stiles, even now, two years later.

Derek's head rolls back, and he stares up at the ceiling. "I chose Six Flags because you'd never been there," he says, and when his neck rolls again, weakly, to face Stiles, he’s smiling at Derek.

"I know," he says, and Derek thinks, of course you did.”

This is beautifully written, heed the tags though - our darling boy Derek doesn’t have a great time to start with. But his and Stiles’ interactions are gorgeous, and it is the sweetest of endings, I promise.

All My Kingdoms Turn to Sand by @elisera 

“The real question is what Stiles wants. If he’s looking forward to seeing Derek again because they’ll complete what they started a long time ago or if Stiles is nervous because he’s feeling apprehensive. There’s a real possibility that he told the pack to finally send Derek up in order to tell him thanks, but no thanks. A lot can happen in six years; people change and grow apart and it isn’t like they were allowed to talk.”

This is wonderfully done - there is so much world building and back story implied that just makes it such a rich scenario. Stiles and Derek and all of their interactions are beautiful, and the closing scene is so happy making. 

We Put Down Roots Here by @bella8876

“A packs connection to its territory is sacred, it’s the place that they call home, the place that they draw their strength, the place that protects them and shelters them. As long as the wolves care for the land, the land will care for the wolves.

After the fire when Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills, they left the land, and the land left them. For the past eight years the territory had been Hale’s in name alone. But that was going to change, tonight.”

This is another lovely pack fic, there’s so much emotional punch at the end you’ll adore it. It’s a really interesting spin on Stiles practicing magic, and a lovely exploration of what pack is.

Last Call by @coyotequeens

“He doesn’t come to The Beacon to pick up people. It’s precisely the reason why he doesn’t go anywhere else. People in this neighborhood know him, know he’s not interested in being hit on, which allows him to have a drink in peace. Derek knows he’s good-looking, but the type of people it attracts disgust him. At least other werewolves can smell the unfriendliness on him and stay away, but that doesn’t stop everyone. He went to a gay bar with his coworker Isaac once and it was horrifying.”

You think this is going to be a snarky, sexy, hookup fic - and yes it is all of those things. BUT ALSO. Magic!Stiles, unexpected!feels, and ‘it’s-meant-to-be’ dreams. It’s all good stuff.

That Which You Cannot Undo by uraneia

“By twenty-eight, Stiles has resigned himself to a quiet life of working in his magic shop, selling Jackson Whittemore fart-inducing tea, and looking after his goddaughter. It's a good life. But the quiet goes to hell when his sister, Lydia, shows up with a crispy werewolf in her trunk and a bite mark on her shoulder, because hard on her heels comes the hottest person Stiles has ever seen, and he happens to be looking for his uncle.

You know, the dead guy Stiles helped Lydia bury last night.

(Or: the Pracitical Magic AU nobody asked for.)”

This is one of my favourite magic!Stiles fics - the world that the author has built is so believable and I adore Stiles and Lydia as siblings - their interactions are wonderful. This has everything I love - great Stiles & his friends interactions, Stiles as a parent, Scott being awesome, Lydia being awe inspiring, and Derek being his beautiful self. The last line will have you grinning all day.

Only By Entering the Wolf’s Den by @spurisani

“Stiles gets a call for help from his old babysitter, Laura Hale, after a slew of magical sabotage to the restaurant/gastropub she runs with her brother Derek. Mysterious magical and supernatural shenanigans are Stiles' bread and butter, so who is he to deny what's basically family?

Even if it does mean facing his age-old, hopeless crush on Derek again, and the fact that Derek hates him.”

This fic is an absolute joy to read - it’s got so many of my favourite things. Magic!Stiles, alive!Hales, chef!Derek, miscommunication, pining, baddie of the week. It’s got it all, and so many funny moments and sweetness and amazing character interactions. And the sterek is gorgeous - it’s the happiest of happy endings!

That’s all for this fic rec edition - I hope you love these fics as much as I do! Feel free to drop me a line with any suggestions for future fic rec editions you’d like to see!

[ecotone99]

[MF] The Cold Room

I lay in bed, in my cold room, in my cold bed, in my cold house, in this cold, dead city. I can hear them muttering things about me behind my door. The window is open because it is winter so of course, the window is open. Everything is blue here, the light hitting the blue curtains paints the whole room a depressive, muted blue. It seems to follow me everywhere. The blue is one of the three only constants in my life, and like the other two, it is not appreciated.

I turn over in my coffin, painfully, slowly. Rest my hands next to my face and close my eyes, maybe if I’m asleep they won’t bother me. I know who the man talking to Mother behind the door is, I remember her telling me about the journalist.

“He saw the Doctors episode with you in it and he is very interested in your day to day life, sweetie.” My poor, cold mother, bundled in her thick winter jacket sitting on the chair next to my bed. “Isn’t that exciting?” Her breath was almost visible, she was trying to hold her smile, trying to feed me fake happiness. I told her something to make her leave, not because I wanted her to but because I knew she needed too. I knew my lack of enthusiasm would soon sadden her. The scarves wrapped around her neck and gloves she wears year around remind me of the sadness my existence brings her. She would freeze in this room with me if she could, if I let her. She would give her life to find me a cure. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and can hear her breathing softly.

I’ve caught her fallen asleep in the chair next to my bed. I had shoved my hand out from underneath my thin blankets to shake her slightly. “Mother, go to bed.” I whispered. She jolted awake in my cold room, her hot breath condensing before she left for bed. That night I couldn’t go back to sleep after she was gone, I wished I could go to her room and crawl in her bed with her as I used to when I was little. But, unfortunately I would cook that way and she would never let me die. So, I stayed, stared out the window and tried not to think of my sister.

I hear the handle turn and the door opens. “Is she asleep?” A man’s voice asks quietly.

“Oh, no, no. Lucya, Lucya, dear.” Mother shakes my shoulder gently. “The journalist is here, my Darling.” I dread meeting him and speaking of my illness for days but I still turn over and sit up, maybe for Mother, maybe because I haven’t spoken to anyone but Mother in four days, whatever the reason I regret it immediately.

“Wow, it sure is cold in here, huh?” The journalist asks while sitting down at the chair next to my bed, he fakes a shiver. His comment seems so insincere I couldn’t help but-

“Did you think it was a lie?” I couldn’t stop the words from coming out, I was so furious even though I knew he was trying to be nice and make a clever remark.

“Oh no, I-I I jus-” and before he could finish Mother was already scolding me.

“Lucya, how dare you speak to our guest that way.” I sit there silently, staring at Mother babbling about how disrespectful I am while the journalist is trying to come up with a cohesive sentence.

“You’re right, Mother. I’m sorry, Mr?” I say turning to face him, trying to make eye contact but he is nervous now. Shuffling papers and mumbling still, by the time he realizes I was speaking to him I’m on the verge of rolling my eyes towards Mother.

“Oh, my name is Cedric Winston, its very nice to meet you Lucya. Your case is very interesting to me. I work wit-”

“I’m sorry I was rude to you, Mr. Winton,” I say cutting him off. “It's nice to meet you as well.” I shove my right hand out in between me and him.

“Please, call me Cedric.” He says shaking my hand. It’s visible on his face, he is surprised I am warm in such a horridly cold room.

“Not to be rude as I was before but, have you read anything about my illness?” I glance at Mother, where she has been hovering at the end of my bed, in her big winter jacket and her gloves. Every time I see her like that I feel bad that she suffers for me. She hates this climate more than I do, I wish I could apologize for all the summers she has lost, all the vacations she could’ve gone on. The sun tans, the beaches.

“Lucya!” She urges me, I snap back to reality and defensively raise my eyebrows as if to ask, what is the problem? “I apologize on her behave, Mr. Winston. She doesn’t get much social interaction which obviously has affected her manners more than I realized.”

“I’m just asking, Mother.” I know she is right, Father doesn’t like to visit or talk to me and all our family lives far away from here. I haven’t been very nice to Mr. Winston since he has arrived.

“It’s quite alright, Ma’am.” Mr.Winston, assures her with a smile before turning to me. “I did some research but I wasn’t expecting such extremes. You are quite warm, Lucya.” He says it almost as a compliment, which is puzzling to me but I brush it off and try to lighten the mood.

“Thanks, I have a condition which makes me so attractive it’s like my insides are cooking ‘cause I’m so hot.” Mother and Mr. Winston get a nice laugh out of it. Mother and I both notice Mr. Winston is visibly cold and we share a look before she asks.

“Mr. Winston, would you like to use one of my husbands winter jackets? I have to get Lucya’s medication for dinner anyway.” She is so kind and polite it baffles me.

“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” Once they exit my room, I hear Mother and him talking about how he packed it in his luggage and forgot to take it out before leaving the hotel. I climb out from under my covers slowly and try to catch my breath before they come back in.

This time mother knocks. “Come in.” I sit in the middle of my bed, cross-legged trying to keep my back straight. Wiping the sweat from my face and breathing in the cold air breezing through the room. Mr. Winston walks in after Mother and observes her set down the tray of medication, crackers, and water. He stares as if I’m a highly dangerous science experiment that could implode seconds after taking cyanide pills. But, sadly, they are not cyanide and I will not implode and there is no highly dangerous science experiment just a very sick girl, in a very cold room, taking very big pills, with a very curious man watching intently.

“What's all this medication for Lucya?” It’s such an arrogant and entirely annoying question I want to roll my eyes and tell him “for my illness you dunce.” but instead I ignore him. I eat some crackers so when Mother taps my shoulder I point at my mouth and she answers him on my behalf.

“Well these two are fever reducers, when Lucya was little she would get sick and Tylenol alone would never help with the fever, she always had to have it with ibuprofen-” Mother has always been my nurse first and my mother second. She moves on to the next pill. “-and this one is an extra strength anti-inflammatory, this one helps with the pain, this one helps with the fatigue.” She separates them as she talks, neatly, gently, gracefully, the way I wish I could be. When she pauses most of them are lined up besides two. “Um, this one is an antidepressant and this one's for her thyroid.” Mr. Winston finishes writing down all the descriptions of the pills while Mother tries to pretend the antidepressant didn’t exist.

He is still staring when he asks “May I take a picture?” Mother never mentioned he wanted to take pictures but before I have time to interject she approves and he is already pulling out a small camera. My mouth falls open in disbelief but either of them notice so I clench my jaw shut, quickly. I don’t understand how he could see art in pills I despise and watching him find the perfect angle in Father’s winter jacket that is much too big for him makes me even angrier. How dare he, how dare he. I grab a handful of crackers and shove them in my mouth before grabbing the first two pills, I chew angry and can’t help but stare at him with all that hate. I place the pills in the middle of the mushy crackers and swallow hard, take a drink of water and let a little bit of the angry out.

“I hate these pills,” More crackers, “I hate these crackers,” chew and place the third pill before swallowing again. “I hate this ritual.” A drink of water.

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[nevinitambay-blog]

Close Reading *The Invitation* (2015), or; Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean the world isn’t out to get you.

Hey, everyone! I hope you all had a good week figuring out what you find funny! Now it’s time to figure out the opposite by wading into horror waters by doing a close reading of The Invitation. Keep in mind that I am a scaredy-cat and that this is a cold viewing for me. If you like this movie and would like to point out what I’ve missed, then please drop me a message in the comments or contact me directly on whichever social media platform you are most comfortable with. (I’ll put all that info at the bottom of this article). Let’s do this!

For movies like this, the devil is often in burying the clues in the details, so, if you want to see effective storytelling, it is useful to list what you notice and go over later how the ending was completely obvious, even though you don’t quite see it coming. If you haven’t seen this movie before, I suggest you watch it before reading on since this is a very spoilable movie. The following are the devilish details as I notice them:

While talking and beginning to bicker about his divorce with Kira, Will hits a coyote with the car. He then kills it using a tire iron.

Kira asks about how much money Will and Eden had, and Will says that all the money was Eden’s. This is weird, because usually assets in marriage are equally shared. Next, David offers Will an ’85 Rothschild, which we are informed costs millions of dollars a bottle through the dialog.

Eden and David are really happy to see Will, not a common behavior in exes, especially since we know Will is a bit bitter about the divorce from the coyote scene.

Eden licks her finger to wipe blood off of Will’s cheek. Since it was fresh and he has a full beard, we can assume he didn’t get that blood on his cheek from shaving.

When David pours wine for Kira, he brings our attention to our own mortality by saying “We shouldn’t put off enjoying what we have.” Usually, this would apply to the post-break-up sentiment “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone”, but the way he said it evokes the sentiment of old people to “enjoy life while you can”. It doesn’t fit neatly into either category, so it will be viewed with suspicion.

A member of the group, Choi, is already not present, but warrants mention, so he is a variable we have no account for; we don’t even know why he isn’t there.

Will sees a woman in the doorway of what appears to be a bedroom during David’s toast. So, on top of not having someone present who should be there (Choi) we also have someone present who shouldn’t be (she isn’t dressed for the gathering/reunion when Will sees her). She also says directly that she appreciates being allowed to crash the party.

What does giving the house a new start even mean? It means the house is probably alive or haunted.

They have bars in the windows of a secluded house. That means the bars are there to keep people in. It’s a trap!

Ben says that they are all “consenting adults”. Soon after, Eden says “pain is optional”. This suggests that there is probably going to be an orgy-based ritual sacrifice. Judging by Eden’s lashing out at Ben when he called her crazy, this hypothesis is pretty strong, especially when it is followed by Eden being nice to Ben. This is a method of behavioral conditioning used by abusive spouses and cult leaders.

A much older man than most people in attendance, Pruitt, arrives to much fanfare by Sadie, the party crasher. The friend group doesn’t recognize him or expect him to be there. He rejects an offer of alcohol, making him one of the few people in attendance who isn’t drinking. Will has an excuse for not taking anything from David. Pruitt doesn’t have an excuse for sobriety at this point, which is suspicious.

There is no cell phone service. Eden and David make an excuse about not having a landline, citing not keeping up with “bills”. Remember that $8 million bottle of wine?

David locks the door with a key from the inside. The excuse for having that be due to a home invasion on another house nearby doesn’t make sense. Will has a point by saying it would prevent evacuating the building in the case of a fire. So why not just have the standard deadbolt with no key hole on the other side? Why a key? It is so only the person/people with the key can get out.

Notice how David says “It’s my house.” when Will said the wealth was all Eden’s.

When Eden was standing at the window, she hurriedly put what she was holding into the drawer of a nightstand. If it were a tissue and she was crying (which is also weird after she said all those things about pain being a choice), she would have put it in a trashcan. So what was she saving after just talking to Kira after sending Will out for firewood? Did she intend for him to see her there? I’m going with “yes” and that she just put a message for help in that drawer for him.

When Will goes to see what it was, we see that it was the bedroom Sadie was standing in the doorway of earlier. He finds a bottle of pills (I’m guessing anti-depression medicine, but there are no labels) and saves one. He gets caught snooping by David.

Up to this point, there are three memories of a child: the boy putting a puzzle together when Will and Kira arrived, the laughter when Will went to get firewood, and the memory of him walking in on Will and Eden in a bath. However, there has been no outright mention or appearance of him. Why? I think it is because the boy died. This lines up with Will mentioning a support group in the coyote scene.

David insists that they are not in a cult. We all know that means they are in one. Note that the people wearing the bracelets are Eden, David, Sadie, and Pruitt. I can’t see Miguel’s or Will’s wrist, so I don’t know about them.

There is another uninvited guest who isn’t Choi. David said it was people looking for a party on foot. It is super weird to look for a party at a secluded house.

Miguel tells Will the pill he found in the nightstand was an old school barbiturate. The Wikipedia article on barbiturates (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbiturate) says that phenobarbital was introduced in 1912, and that barbiturates aren’t prescribed so much anymore. Eden having those pills is thus both shady and really old school.

Sadie kisses Gina after she participated in the “I Want” game. David, the recovered coke addict, provides cocaine to Gina after she says she wants it. Pruitt reveals that his wife died after he hit her as hard as he could (the mention of serving time indicates murder or manslaughter). Eden kisses Ben (something something orgy).

People keep distracting Will from watching Claire leave. We are left with the information that Pruitt stopped her from driving away. Pruitt comes in later with the cryptic information that he apologized to Claire for his story and she seemed to understand.

There are multiple accusations of Will acting weird and shady, yet he seems to be acting the most reasonable to me, considering the circumstances. When he is on the balcony, we learn that the house isn’t very secluded, so there should be signal. Finally, through a voicemail, we learn that Choi was actually early and got there before everyone else. So where is he? (dun dun dun) After a very confrontational outburst, Choi finally arrives. (I think we and Will are being gaslighted.)

While Will is in Ty’s old room, David lights a red lantern in the back yard while no one is there. Will then finds a video of the cult leader on the laptop that is in the office where his son’s room used to be. The cult leader says “Tonight is the night our faith is made real” after saying things like “Remember the reward” etc. Remember that orgy/ritual sacrifice I mentioned earlier? That’s back on the table. (Pruitt, the stranger who murdered his wife, is the one sent to gather Will, not one of his close friends or Eden.)

When Will tells everyone not to drink the wine, Sadie attacks him for ruining “it” and Gina stops breathing. While it is plausible Gina is overdosing on cocaine and Sadie is just being a wacko, there is no alternative explanation when David shoots Miguel when he is performing CPR on Gina.

There are several components of a well written thriller. The first are the buried details that I mentioned at the start, the ones that give the outcome credibility, make the ending obvious in hindsight. The second is the red herring, which is the suspicious absence of Choi, that makes us doubt whether or not our observations are correct, or whether or not the narrator is reliable (here the narrator is Will and the point of view is Close Third Person). The third is the twisting of anxieties such as the fear of gaslighting, actually going crazy, cult mentalities, the loss of a child, the fear of your ex’s new lover, invisible conspiracies (all the red lanterns at the end), and not being able to get help from authorities/first responders. The last component of a thriller is the optimism that we can overcome what we are anxious about (even if that is just barely managed): Will, Kira, and Tommy fight back and survive, as well as Will figuring out what was going on before everyone was killed.

If you want to write a good horror, then take all these components, subtract reason, add some supernatural elements, focus more on the murdering, and kill everyone by the end. Oh and stress the whole “no matter how much you call for help, no one is going to save you”. Great, now I’ve spooked myself. Happy writing!

What did you think of this week’s movie? Did you find a new technique for storytelling in it? Do you have questions for me? Is there a movie you would like me to write about? Let me know in the comments, tweet me (https://twitter.com/NeviniTambay), message me through Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/nevini.tambay), message me through Google+ (https://plus.google.com/u/1/104262718026029613816), or shoot me an email (nevinitambay@gmail.com)! I look forward to hearing from you! I post new articles on Wednesdays. Please remember to upvote, like, subscribe, and/or follow me on other social media if you find these articles useful and want to see more!