#however i might open one of my request events which usually hold some sort of guidelines

[goldenhypen]

Heyy, ik your requests are off but I would love if you make one whenever you'll feel like and that is how enha will react when you'll have ur period (first time you guys have met) or something related.

Btw love your page <3

heyy ahh i hate to say this but just so it’s fair for everyone im gonna have to turn this down FOR NOW 😭 buttt i am thinking of opening reqs back up sorta soon so look out for that and keep this in mind for when reqs do open ok!

i love YOU <3

[aminiatureworld]

Enigmatic Feelings II

Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,402

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!

In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.

Beidou

Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.

Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.

What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.

Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.

Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.

A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?

Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.

“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.

“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”

Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.

“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?

The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.

The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.

“Come in.”

“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”

Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.

“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”

“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”

“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose fault was it then?”

Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”

“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.

“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”

“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”

“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”

“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”

“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”

“Pity.”

“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.

“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”

“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.

“Shaddup.”

Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.

  Childe

Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.

That was, in fact, not true.

One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.

Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.

Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!

Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”

“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”

The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?

Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?

Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.

Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.

Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.

“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”

“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”

“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”

Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.

“That messenger has been annoying me.”

“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”

“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”

“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”

Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”

“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”

“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”

“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.

Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.

“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises darling.”

The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.

  Eula

As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!

No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.

Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?

“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.

“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.

“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.

“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all!”

The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?

“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”

Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.

“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”

“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”

The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”

“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.

 “Hey, is something wrong?”

Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.

“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”

“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.

“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”

“That does sound very unpleasant.”

“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”

“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.

“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”

“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”

“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.

“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”

“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.

“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”

With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.

It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.

And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”

“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”

“Not particularly,” you shook your head.

“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.

“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”

“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.

At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.

“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”

“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”

“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.

“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”

“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”

“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”

The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.

Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.

“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”

Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.

“What?”

“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”

“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”

“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”

“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”

Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.

“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”

“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”

“A-alright.”

“I’m glad.”

You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[ultimateluckystudent-writes]

hello! if this isn’t too weird, i’d like to request nagito and his fem s/o being heard having...seggs...... (maybe? possibly? perhaps? you can include the seggs scene?? if it’s not too much..) and the next morning their classmates are literally like 🧍‍♂️🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s so awkward 😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIYOKO AND MAHIRU LIKE 😀🤬 and everyone else like 😅😐please don’t feel obligated to do it but if you do then thank you so much!!! have a great day/night

Nagito and S/O being overheard

Anon, you're a genius. Absolutely, this is my favorite request I've gotten so far I had to do this first (even... if I'm... really late) It kind of spiraled into a little fic with smut and fluff but eh, the more the merrier right?

-Mod Usami

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: Island Mode AU! Some smut at the beginning, the rest is pretty fluffy. If you don't wanna read it, skip to where you see *****

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!” Nagito’s hips hit yours with a fervor that was unfamiliar but completely welcome. His long, bony fingers held your waist tightly to hold himself steady as he fucked you while you lay on your back. Above you, he had a look of complete focus as he worked to keep up his pace. Usually he was quite gentle with you, making you take the reins if you wanted something rougher, but tonight he touched you with a drive you couldn’t place.

It had been much the same earlier, when he brought you off the first time eating you out; however, you had grown accustomed to Nagito’s eagerness when his face was between your legs. You’d been much too distracted by that very tongue laving your clit to notice any difference. When his hips slotted between yours though, the difference was so clear.

One of Nagito’s hands moved from its place on your torso to the back of your thigh, pushing it back towards you gently. His eyes remained locked on yours, and though his pace didn’t relent, his eyes were soft and questioning. When you could moaned in response, he couldn’t help but grin to himself a bit. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper,

“My hope...” He choked out, obviously attempting to remain steady even while he was so pleased. “I- you- you sound beautiful already and- and I know this is a selfish request-”

“Wh- What do you want, Nah- ah! Nagito!” You’d meant to continue on, but it was rather difficult. Your fingers dug into the sheets. Nagito moaned aloud at his name, his brows furrowing.

“Yes! My- my name! Just like that!”

“Of course, my pretty boy.” You managed to give him a sloppy half-smile. You let your head fall back once more as he continued. “Nagito! Oh, ah, Nagito! Fuck, baby you’re- you’re so good!” Your hand began to reach down to your clit, but his voice interrupted you.

“P- please, allow me-” He adjusted himself so he was pressed further down into you, one arm supporting himself on the bed and the other beginning to rub circles around your clit, one of your legs over his shoulder. All at once you were enveloped in how good he was making you feel, and knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Oh, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Your voice was almost a whisper, chanting his name like a prayer. The leg not already against him came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “I’m- I’m close-”

“Yes!” He moaned. “Please, please cum for me- I want to see you, I wanna see you-”

“Nagito!” A particularly electric motion from his hands caused your own to fly into his hair. “Nagito, Nagito- ah!” Your legs shook as you came, left trembling in his hands, and he didn’t last much longer. As he came, he leaned down as much as he could while still pumping into you to kiss and bite down on your neck. He peppered kisses all over you as you both lie in the aftershocks, panting in between nips and kisses. At last, he sucked hard on a spot by your pulse point, making you shiver while he marked you. “Nagito...” You whined. “You’re gonna leave marks...”

“Forgive me, my love, I selfishly crave nothing more than to see you completely marked up by my hand.” He murmured, his voice breathy and sleepy. You giggled, a bit out of it yourself.

“You talk funny.” You nudged him to move and he finally stood back up and wiped the sweat off of his brow. After cleaning up a bit and hitting the light, the two of you crawled back into bed to finally get some rest. You held his head close to your chest and played with his hair, and you were quickly asleep. Nagito needed to try a bit harder to fall asleep. He was facing the window he’d noticed he’d left open earlier, and tried not to laugh too much and make you stir.

*****

“Good morning everyone! It’s another beautiful day on the island! Please eat breakfast and do your very best today! Love, love!” Usami's voice crackled through the tv in your room. You internally groaned, upset that you could never find a way to turn that damn monitor down, until the events of last night came back to you. You smiled to yourself as you pulled Nagito closer, right while he was in the middle of a yawn.

“Morning breath.” You grumbled, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

“Nobody made you kiss me in the middle of my yawn. Least of all me.” He protested, but he sounded pleased. “Good morning.” You simply grumbled in response, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re expected at breakfast eventually.”

“So what?” You grinned deviously and peeked open your eyes just enough to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He made a little squeaking noise and tilted his head to give you more access.

“Ah- as much as I- oh- enjoy your intimacy...” He swallowed hard, as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. You didn’t relent. “We really shouldn’t do this every time we wake up together- we end up la- hah- hmm.” His voice died down into a hum as you began to suck on his neck. “Didn’t you complain about marks just last night?” His voice was strained. His hands found your sides and held on tight, despite his hesitant words.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already there, so it doesn’t matter now, does it?” You said in between your kisses. You pulled away just for a second to see that you were in fact leaving red marks something deep within you hoped would bloom into something darker. My precious boy… maybe they’ll all stop being so rude to you if they understand you’re mine.

“Well, there wouldn’t have been anything to connect it to me.” He said seriously. A laugh bubbled up out of you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lied. Nothing would connect it to you except all the time we spend together, the way you cling to me when other people are around, those puppy-dog eyes you give me in front of everybody whenever we’re sent to collect in different areas… “But your logic is flawed.” You argued, moving to straddle his hips. He looked awestruck under you, something that made you falter for a moment. “Everyone else would know it wasn’t them, and that would likely narrow it down because...”

“Because?”

“You’re not the best liar when asked something directly, Ko-chan.” You giggled, tapping him on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow it.

“You’re probably right.” He beamed. You rolled your eyes. He seemed like he was in too good of a mood now to disagree with anyone. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and your feet finally found their way onto the floor. You felt much more energized now. You and Nagito began to get ready for the day. Nagito had begun to keep clothes in your cabin at your insistence and desire to have as much time with him in bed in the mornings. Still, between your conversations and extra kisses you both snuck, you found yourself late to breakfast.

“You don’t want to walk in separately?” He asked. “It might be rather… suspicious if we walked in at the same time. Especially with… these.” He gestured at your necks, which were marked up in matching fashion, though yours were a bit darker due to time. Despite his words, you’d seen the way Nagito smiled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, something you hadn’t seen him do… ever.

“I don’t mind, really, Nagito.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, making him blush once more. His face was already almost permanently red around you. “Besides, it’s not like anyone actually cares if we’re fucking… they probably won’t think at all about ”

“Ah...” Nagito pursed his lips as you finished climbing the stairs to the hotel’s restaurant. “About that...” His words fell on deaf ears however, as you pushed open the doors. All your classmates were already there, and though you expected to be able to slip in without much notice, all conversation paused as the two of you walked in. Everybody’s eyes turned to you at once.

“Good mo-or-orning lovebirds!” Ibuki sang, waving her utensils and accidentally splattering some of her food onto Byakuya. You froze completely, your eyes widening.

“Good morning, Mioda-san.” Nagito said from behind you. You turned to him, but he seemed most unfazed. There was still a light blush on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if that was from earlier or now.

“Mioda-chan!” Mahiru said crossly. “We agreed I would talk to them about it first!”

“Oh, fuck.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my fucking God. They all already knew.”

“Well… if it helps, we- we didn’t know until last night.” Mikan laughed nervously, before her own eyes widened. “Oh no! That probably doesn’t help! I’m so sorry, Koizumi-san!”

“Last night? What- oh no.” You could feel your face begin to burn. “Did.. did you...”

“A lot of us… heard you last night, yes.” Chiaki nodded. “Though I believe it was mostly the girls, as it came from the girls’ side of the dorms.”

“Komaeda, my man, I never thought I’d say this but like… how’d you do it?” Kazuichi asked.

“Now is not the time Soda-san!” Sonia chided. “(L/N)-san, did he at least pay you first?”

“I’m gonna do it.” You whispered to yourself. “I’m gonna walk into the ocean and never come back-”

“It’s somehow not that sort of deal. I keep trying but-” Nagito shrugged. You turned and glared at him furiously. “I sense I’ve made a mistake of some sort.”

“She doesn’t make him pay!” Hiyoko smirked, and just from the look you knew you wouldn’t like where this was going. “We all heard last night how much of a cum dump you are!” Several people gasped. Your face froze in what must have looked like a delirious grin. Your mind wouldn’t even register the words she was saying.

“I wish I could have heard.” Teruteru whined. “I’m sure the lady sounded… orgasmic in more than one sense of the word.”

“Haha!” Nagito said the words instead of actually laughing as he stepped out in front of you. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “I believe, besides last night, those sounds are usually reserved for me.”

“Whatever, weird choice aside, if she’s getting it from who she wants it’s cool!” Akane said around a mouthful of egg. “As long as she keeps it down! I almost didn’t make it to my early morning run today!”

“Thank you for getting us back to the point, Owari.” Byakuya sighed. “I hate this conversation with a newfound passion. Keep it down, please. Make sure your windows are closed.”

“What? But my windows are almost always closed!” You protested, thankful for the further change. “We’ve got AC, why would I-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Fuyuhiko groaned, shoving his chair away from the table. “And now I’ve completely lost my appetite. Can we go, Pekoyama?” She gave a curt nod, and they left to clear their plates.

“That’s cool! I’m gonna throw myself off one of the bridges today anyways!” You waved at them all. “Toodaloo!” With that, you began to walk away.

“She’s joking… I think.” You heard Nagito say behind you.

“I’m not!”

“...I’ll go with her. Ah, we’ll see you all at morning delegations- hey, wait up!”

[i-cant-sing]

Please yandere v! All might or aizawa as a spooky Christmas ghost?

Christmas Nightmare: Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa

Hey there! Thank you so much for requesting! I had fun writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa:

It was 2 days before Christmas. You were on your way home from Home Depot. You had gotten your Christmas tree and decorations. And since you decided to buy it so late, you had to drive out of city to get the tree as those in the city were all sold out. But hey, at least you got a good deal!

Since it was a long drive back home, you had decided to do your grocery shopping too. As you were driving, munching on some chips, you noticed it had started snowing. The snow was covering the trees that were on either side of the road. It was getting dark, and only the lights from your car were illuminating the road.

Of course your old car had to break down. And that too in the middle of nowhere, where there was no cell service either. And you don't remember seeing any cars on your way either. As you were trying to get a signal, you almost didn't see the wooden cabin that was a bit hidden by the trees.

Now you've watched tons of horror movies to know that you should not go there. But it was getting cold, and now you could either die by hypothermia, or you could go there and hope that there is not a serial killer inside.

You chose the latter option. You went to the cabin and knocked a few times. When no one answered, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. In the dark, your hands looked for a light switch. When you found one and switched it on, you looked around the cabin. You appeared to be standing in the living room, there was little furniture, dust had accumulated everywhere. You found the fireplace and fortunately there was still some wooden logs and a matchbox there. You lit the fireplace up and decided to look around. You were surprised to see that the cabin was actually quite big. And it looked like it used to be inhabited by a family; you found some furniture, a few toys and some other stuff. It looked like that the cabin had been abandoned for a quite some time. You looked in the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, but you found nothing. It was a good idea that you had some snacks to get you to get you by.

You went back to the living room, sitting near the fire. As you were warming up, you looked out the window. It was snowing heavily now. You took your phone out and to your surprise you found a single service bar. You called for help, but the signal kept breaking up, and they managed to tell you that they wouldn't be able to get there as it was snowing too hard; the roads were blocked. Plus, it was Christmas time, nobody is going to want to help you now anyways. You hoped that help or anyone would drive by in the morning.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of someone walking. Heavy footsteps. There's someone inside the cabin.

You sat frozen, waiting for the serial killer to come. However, a few more minutes passed, but no one appeared. Curious, you decided to see who was there. You hoped it would be an animal. But after you had searched the entire cabin, you found no one. Neither an animal, nor a person.

Hm, maybe its a ghost. You thought to yourself. But I should've been able to see one due to my quirk.

Your quirk: Dead Eye, helped you see the dead. You had seen a lot of ghosts, most of them were harmless, and the bad ones usually just wanted to be left alone. That's why you weren't scared of ghosts anymore. People are far scarier really.

Maybe this ghost was just passing by. Or maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you. You were getting tired, so you decided to sleep on the old couch near the fireplace. The warmth lulled you to sleep, not knowing that someone was watching you.

When you woke up the next morning, the fire was almost dying out. You checked your phone a signal, call, message, anything. You looked outside the window, there was snow everywhere. You couldn't even see the road. It didn't look like you were getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. No one is gonna come on Christmas to help you. Which meant you were going to spend Christmas here in the cabin, alone.

Deciding to make the best out of your situation, you got the tree and the decorations out of your car. After you had brought the tree inside, you went to look for some cleaning supplies and cleaned the place up a bit. Once you had done that, you decorated the tree up. You kept on checking if someone was driving by or if you got some service, but you unfortunately didn't. As you were making yourself some dinner, you heard footsteps again. You also heard a door open and shut. And you felt someone creeping up on you. You whipped around and you finally saw the culprit.

"Do you need something?" you asked the pale man with red eyes and black hair. He looked a bit surprised hearing your question. "Well?" you pushed, your own heart pounding. "You can see me?"he asked, confused. "Oh you're a ghost! Yeah, I can see the dead due to my quirk." The man was even more surprised as you introduced yourself to him, not scared at all. "I'm...Aizawa. What are you doing here?" You explained your situation to him, and how you'll be out of his hair the day after Christmas hopefully. You both apologised and thanked him for letting you into his home.

The more you talked the more Aizawa felt happy? It had been so long since he had any sort of conversation, even though it was mostly you talking. It had been too long since he felt happy.

Aizawa apologised too for trying to scare you. He just wanted to be alone, no meddling humans to disturb him from his sleep.

You both kept on talking, you telling some stories and just rambling on, Aizawa just humming and sometimes gave a small smile. You're so adorable. So nice. And warm too.

He loved how you cleaned up his place and decorated the tree. He remembered the good times back when he was alive. And even though he was a villian, he still remembers the cozy days of Christmas he used to spend with his family. Family. The family the betrayed him. The same family he used to do break the law for. The same family that went to the cops to tell on him when they found out what he had been doing to provide for them.

Of course he killed them. He did not regret it one bit. What he did regret though was killing himself after that, thinking that he'd never be able to find love again. When in reality, he was looking right at it. You. Its you. You'll be his love again.

When you woke up on Christmas morning, you went to check your phone but you couldn't find it. You were sure you had it on you. As you were looking around, Aizawa came and wished you a Merry Christmas. You smiled and wished him as well.

Aizawa had brought you some eggs from a nearby bird's nest. You didn't want be rude, so you made them and had your breakfast. You made some small talk, telling him about the world, how advance it has become. But he was really just interested in your life. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? How many people know that you're here?

His questions were weird. But you thought that he's just an old ghost, and also has no company; he's just bored.

You were still talking when you heard the sound of a car. You whipped your head to the window and saw a car slowly driving by. Finally. You thought. I'm getting out of here now.

As you went towards the door, hoping that the driver will see you and help you, you suddenly felt something hit your head before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in of the bedrooms. Few rays of the moonlight were escaping the boarded window, indicating it was night time. What happened? As events of the morning came rushing back to you, you realised you were in grave danger. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge even though there was no lock.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the bed, the mattress squeaking under you. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. You tried to get of the bed, but it was like something was holding you down. You looked at him bewildered.

Aizawa started to explain "I've become attached to you. No. I've fallen in love with you. I know you're not in love with me right now but you will be." He walked towards you "you don't need to worry. I'll figure out a way for us to be together when I kill you. Then we can live here happily ever after." He stroked your hair. You went to kick him but he caught your leg in a tight, painful grip. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Now, now. Don't do something you'll regret. You don't wanna be on the naughty list now, do you?"

Hope you guys liked this one! Requests are still open! :)

[worth-more-than-two-thousand]

Omega’s Observations

Request:  Congrats on starting the blog!! Pumped to have a new writer's work to read 🥰 If you need some requests, how about an echo/gn!medic reader who he develops a crush on, for a little of that sweet sweet mutual pining action✨ Dunno if you write pre-citadel or just BB echo, but I'm happy with either. Have a good weekend!! :) (@krussyfed)

Author’s Note: Whew! This took a while for me to get to a place where I felt good about posting it. Honestly, as most of my writing does, it got a bit away from me, but that’s because I love fleshing out a story, showing-not-telling, and building on events from the canon. But if I saw this through until the end, I probably wouldn’t end up posting this for months! So I hope what I have here is worth the wait, and if you want more, let me know! 

Story Notes: Unbeta’ed, no obvious warnings. 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Ask her brothers to describe her, and ‘still and quiet’ would not be two of the words any of them would use. 

Hunter would call her curious to a fault, then ruffle her hair to let her know that he meant it in the nicest way possible. 

Wrecker would boom with laughter, proclaiming her one of them (“Always ready for action and adventurin’! Let’s go get those gundarks!”). 

Tech would probably consider for a moment, then use a four-syllable word. Like effervescent.

Echo would call her young and energetic, but his brow would furrow as though this might be a bad thing. Then he would inevitably follow up with a reminder to stay within sight and keep out of trouble. She didn’t mind. She knew he just worried about her. Omega would always reassure him that she would keep close to her brothers. Of course, whether it actually happened was usually another thing. 

Crosshair, if he was with them, would probably call her troublesome. 

But really, this was a tactical advantage. Her brothers never expected her to be still and quiet, so she could settle in and be observant when it was least expected of her. 

Omega was actually quite accustomed to being taciturn, at least when she needed to be. Her time with Nala Se, after all, was mostly like this. 

Watching over like a stone guardian as Nala Se pored over the capsules containing her modified brothers…

...being as unobtrusive as possible during another endless meeting with Lama Su…

...laying noiselessly and without complaint as Nala Se inserted a needle into her arm for yet another blood sample…

 These days, Omega could be as boisterous and vivacious (two more words Tech had taught her) as she wanted to be, so long as there was no chance of enemies being around. The only time she was obediently still by choice during these times was when she was being treated by Y/N, Clone Force 99’s on-board medic. 

Again, this was mostly out of habit from her time with Nala Se, but it wasn’t as bad. For one thing, Y/N fielded all of Omega’s questions with unending patience. And their hands were less clinical, more gentle than Omega was used to. Nala Se was efficient, not a movement wasted in her examinations. Y/N, however, always offered a comforting touch on the back after a scary encounter, and would gently but firmly place their hands on Omega’s face to look her in the eye to assess emotional well-being. 

The first time Y/N had done this was on the Ordo Moon, as Y/N was finishing wrapping up Omega’s small scratches on her hands and knees from her misadventures in the underground tunnels. 

At this point, not used to such close eye contact, Omega averted her eyes and looked over Y/N’s shoulder for something to distract her from the unusual awkwardness she felt. 

Her eyes met Echo’s. 

Her awkwardness vanished as he seemed to startle, a faint flush appearing on his neck, as he coughed, crossed his arms, and turned away, suddenly much more interested in examining the ship’s ceiling than anything else. 

What an interesting reaction. Her brain filed it away, curiosity piqued.  

Then, over the course of a few weeks, Omega confirmed her suspicions. 

Echo was always watching Y/N. Echo liked Y/N. 

Omega caught him absentmindedly gazing at Y/N’s hands as they tapped thoughtfully on a datapad while Wrecker carried new medical inventory aboard the Marauder during a supply run. 

After Wrecker’s successful inhibitor chip removal on Bracca, and Tech volunteered to go next, Omega watched Y/N’s hands fly across the medical controls, fierce determination sharpening their features. Glancing up, she saw that Echo’s attention was similarly arrested, a look on his face that was bordering very close to adoration. 

He seemed most captivated by Y/N’s hands, however, whenever they were treating him personally for any ailments or injuries. Echo always sat pin straight, almost comedically robotic (it would be funnier, but his history brought a sort of cruel irony to the thought) and allowing Y/N to turn his body and maneuver his prosthetic arm however was needed without any fidgeting or complaint. 

But his eyes were another story. Darting back and forth everywhere their fingers touched, such a stoniness to his face that Omega was certain he was committing every graze, every feather-light touch, to memory. Y/N, as always, was so focused on the medical work that they never seemed to notice. 

Omega saw things, though. Echo was like Y/N’s shadow, often slipping into the same room or area Y/N was in, like a ghost. She observed with fascination how he always angled himself to face her whenever there was a conversation in the cockpit. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of them, or if the entire squad was there and discussing a mission, it was as though he had attuned himself to wherever Y/N happened to be and was drawn to them.

Like a sunflower always facing the sun. 

She saw in the field how Echo, not Hunter, was usually the one to call the Marauder to check in or alert Y/N to any injuries that would need to be treated when they returned. How the space between his brows would crease whenever they would radio in but only receive the static of communications interference. 

Or worse, no answer at all. 

Echo wouldn’t say anything, but Omega felt that her brother’s steps would quicken, just a little. And she wasn’t sure she was just imagining a sudden sense of urgency in the air as they completed the mission, with just a bit more efficiency, a bit more ruthlessness than was usual. 

Omega saw how Echo always let out a tiny breath in relief, as though he had been holding it the whole time, whenever they returned to the Marauder with its medic unharmed. 

And she would never forget that one time they had returned to the Marauder, doors blasted open, interior trashed, with no medic in sight and droplets of blood leading away from the ship. 

Omega had never been in war, had only heard about it passively from the conversations between Nala Se and Lama Su, then a bit more directly from her brothers once she was allowed out of the private lab. 

She had once asked Tech about the war, but his response clearly paled in comparison to the dark look on Echo’s face, as they battled their way through enemy after enemy to rescue Y/N.

Omega felt as though she understood war a little bit more after this. At least its motivations. 

It took longer for Omega to figure out whether her brother’s feelings were reciprocated. Y/N’s affection wasn’t as obvious, but the trick was to watch more for their actions than in body language. 

Since Y/N and Tech slept the least, they would swap bunks and so were usually on opposite sleep schedules. This meant that Y/N would stay up late into the night well after the rest of the boys had retired to their bunks, face alight in the glow of a datapad. They would concentrate fiercely, chewing on their thumbnail and pausing often to tap notes into the margins. 

Omega eventually managed to snatch and break into Y/N’s data pad, and saw that they were working their way through a series of medical journals, detailing the latest treatment for prosthetics. There were also several articles on treating post-traumatic stress disorder for former prisoners of war. 

Omega had even checked Y/N’s search history, and discovered that they had been using an encrypted channel to search for chatter on the whereabouts of the former 501st legion and its various members. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Y/N had much luck so far, but if the number of searches were any indication, they weren’t giving up. 

Omega wondered incredulously how none of her other brothers had yet caught on to the two’s clearly mutual affection for each other. Until she realized that no, they already knew.

Once, when Omega had offered Echo some of her Mantell Mix, Echo had sniffed it, much to her amusement. Her giggles subsided immediately when Echo murmured apologetically that he sometimes had trouble digesting pretty much any food that wasn’t nutritional paste, due to half his digestive system being completely artificial. 

Of course, this meant that he must have been experiencing constant abdominal discomfort, as they hadn’t had any nutritional paste on the ship since their escape from Kamino. Hunter once mentioned to her that even the plainest of rations seemed to bother him, but he gamely never complained.

One day, Hunter was giving out rations in the cockpit, and had already given Tech and Wrecker their usual. Then he pulled out a green, unlabeled squeeze packet instead of the usual rations bar, and handed it to Echo, who took it with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

“New brand. It should be easier on your digestive systems than the usual stuff. Tastier, too.” 

Echo glanced at the packet skeptically, unscrewing the cap and sniffing at its contents. 

“It smells...fresh?” 

“Try it,” Hunter urged him, to which Echo obediently tried a small amount. 

His mouth rounded in a surprised ‘oh’. Omega wished she could have captured the look on his face with a holovid. He stared at the packet in his hands, with a look that was a bit like wonder and amazement. 

This didn’t escape Wrecker’s notice, who immediately stood up in protest. “What? Why does Echo get something new to eat?” He glanced forlornly at the slightly crumpled, stale rations bar in his hand. “I want some!” 

“They’re too expensive for your appetite, Wrecker,” Hunter replied, just a bit too quickly, though none of the others seemed to notice. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t like it.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Wrecker proclaimed, swiping the packet from Echo’s hands despite Hunter’s attempt to chastise him. Wrecker took a giant slurp. 

...and immediately spat it out, some of it splattering on poor Gronk. 

“Blech! That tastes weird.” 

“Probably because it’s made of fruits and vegetables,” Tech said dryly, “Your palette likely isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate the subtle bitterness and natural sweetness that are characteristic of those food categories.” 

Echo eyed Hunter skeptically. “And we have the money to keep buying these?” 

Hunter hummed, closing the rations box and turning away from the cockpit. “Omega’s paying for it from her holochess winnings.” She startled at the sudden mention of her name. “We have extra to spare, for now.” Hunter subtly winked at her when the others weren’t looking. 

“Oh. Thank you, Omega,” said Echo, looking at her with true gratitude. Omega flushed a bit, but mostly because it actually didn’t have anything to do with her. She played along, however, and insisted it was no problem. It did seem to make him happy, so there was no harm in a small lie like that, right? 

She cornered Hunter later, though, and insisted on him telling her the truth. After wearing him down a bit, he finally relented.

“Okay, but you can’t tell the others, all right? Believe me, I’ve already tried to talk them out of it. But Y/N has been doing some medical work on the side, working at one of the clinics near Cid’s bar. They’ve been using the money to buy these.” 

Omega’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why can’t you just tell Echo that?”

Hunter sighed. “Because they don’t want Echo to know. Figures that Echo wouldn’t like them going out on their own to work in the slums for his sake. They’re probably right, of course.” He rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign of an impending headache. 

Omega frowned, then decided to go for it.

“You know they like each other, right?” 

Hunter blinked at her, looking surprised. At her determined stare, he gave a sigh and muttered something like, ‘I’m getting too old for this’. He proceeded to explain patiently to her that perhaps Echo and Y/N liked each other, but pointed out how awkward or difficult it could be to have a romantic relationship in such close quarters, especially when they as a team also had bigger things to worry about. 

It sounded like Hunter had given this exact speech at least twice before. 

So Tech and Wrecker knew, then, but were being polite about it (or, in Wrecker’s case, had probably gotten an earful from Hunter earlier about tact and ‘minding one’s own business’). 

Well. That wouldn’t do. 

By the time Echo got up the nerve to say anything, he’d probably be old! (Omega wouldn’t, but she tried not to think too hard about that particular fact.)

So, she began to scheme. Quietly. 

She had the tactical advantage, after all. 

[dizzydancingdreamer]

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

[caffeinatedseri]

Dead Apple Light Novel

Recently, I decided to buy LN 5, Dead Apple, purely because I’m a sucker for all of BSD’s light novels, so this post will revolve around what I took away from this novel. 

Dead Apple is Canon

Since the story jumps around in the timeline a lot, I had originally thought that Dead Apple took place outside of canon (especially with Atsushi’s flashback). 

However, a particular part of Asagiri’s afterword stuck out to me:

Now, allow me a moment to discuss some of the particulars of Dead Apple. Chronologically, the story takes place after the second season of the anime — in other words, after the war with the Guild, which puts Dead Apple somewhere between the ninth and tenth volumes of the manga. 

The novel also ended up affecting the main story in numerous ways, and I’m sure this new experience will continue to influence my future work as well.

It’s not unusual for a light novel to insert itself into the main timeline (see 55 Minutes which takes place in the 10th volume), but it’s nice to have confirmation that the same applies to Dead Apple. 

Of course, just because a work isn’t canon compliant (see BEAST), doesn’t mean that it has no potential for further analysis or it doesn’t bring any added complexity to the main plot. Regardless, this post serves as somewhat of a precursor to my other posts concerning Dead Apple since I have a tendency to talk about it a lot, and I’d like to establish a basis for a lot of my posts. 

Differences between the Movie and Light Novel

In the afterword of the light novel, Hiro Iwahata (the author of this LN) said:

“Furthermore, I worked on this book under Asagiri’s supervision, meaning there are several lines in certain scenes that differ from the movie. It might even be fun comparing the two!  Nothing would make me happier than the fans enjoying this novel alongside the movie.”

As per Iwahata’s request, I went into the light novel, looking for differences between it and the movie. However, the novel is surprisingly, almost identical to the movie (maybe not surprising considering it is a “movie novelization”).

Because the differences are so miniscule, I believe they hold an even greater significance, since Asagiri must have wanted to change these specific details for a certain reason. 

Some of the differences I talk about might be unimportant, but I did my best to catch everything that was changed from the movie.

1. The movie doesn’t mention SKK as a part of the Dragon’s Head Conflict, but the novel says, “Some fought under the alias Twin Dark.” 

This probably means that SKK became a pair either before the Dragon’s Head Conflict or during (although I’m pretty sure that the “organization” they destroyed over night was Shibusawa’s organization).

2. When Dazai says that he would’ve continued killing people in the mafia if it weren’t for Oda, Atsushi has little to no reaction in the movie; I would describe it as maybe a hesitant or concerned feeling.

In the novel, Atsushi has a more outward reaction.

““Huh...?!” Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? (...) The melancholy Atsushi felt from Dazai had disappeared, and Dazai continued to speak in his usual lighthearted manner.”

Not only does he react verbally, but the novel also adds an inner monologue (mainly for Atsushi) that can’t be portrayed as well in movie format. 

To me, this change highlights how Atsushi sees Dazai purely as a good person; he reacts in such a startled manner because he believes that Dazai is too good of a person to be in the mafia killing people (which we know Atsushi hates). This trend reoccurs throughout the story, of Atsushi turning a blind eye to Dazai’s “bad side.”

3. This one isn’t at all the movie’s fault, but the novel gives a lot more clues as to what the “dead apple” and the dagger in the apple motif represents.

The first time it appears is when Kunikida and Tanizaki meet the Special Division’s agent, but they find out that he’s already dead.

“It [the apple] was, without a doubt, a simple fruit... save for the fact that there was a knife sticking out of it as if to condemn the taste of sin. A blade had been driven into the symbol of original sin. A dreary, ominous aura, oozed from the ripe fruit like venom. 

Throughout the novel, it seems to associate the “dead apple” motif with Fyodor pretty strongly, especially since this paragraph ties in Fyodor’s ideals nicely with the symbolism of the apple and dagger.

The apple represents sin, the very first sin — which you could interpret as sin at its purest — while the dagger represents the condemning of such sin. However, the apple can also potentially symbolize life, while the dagger stabbing into life can mean death. 

Fyodor’s ideals revolve around “removing the sin” of ability users (represented by an apple in this case) but he does so through manipulation. The dagger is associated with stealth and deception, which is fitting with what Fyodor does to “remove the sin” of ability users.

However, he’s also taking the lives of ability users in this process, hence stabbing the apple, coincidentally committing another sin in his attempt to relinquish all sin.

4. In the “Snow White” Oda and Dazai flashback, everything is identical to the movie (word for word), but there is some additional narration.

“It was an alarming sight — Dazai sounded like he was in a trance. It was as if he was ignoring all this world had to offer while in pursuit of something else.”

I’ve talked about this particular scene before here, but the gist is that Dazai was discreetly talking about himself while referring to Snow White. 

Dazai joined the mafia because he believed that the violence (or true human nature) would give him a reason to live, but we already know that this kind of thinking was flawed.  Thus, this line most likely means that Dazai was ignoring all of the “good” qualities of the world while pursuing a reason to live, which inevitably wouldn’t work. 

5. Right after the flashback, when Dazai takes the pill, the novel really sells the act of “Dazai walking towards his death and going to the evil side.” 

Personally, this scene in the movie felt more open to interpretation after you’ve seen the ending. You could say that Dazai took the antidote and said “Being on the side that saves people is more beautiful,” because his plan is to continue living to save more people. 

However, the novel throws away any possible double meaning with this paragraph:

“Dazai then reached for the pill with his bandaged hand, neatly picked it up, and slowly brought it to his lips — just like Snow White and the sweet, poisoned apple. The venomous red-and-pure-white-pill disappeared inside his mouth.”

After Dazai’s tangent on how Snow White could’ve committed suicide out of despair, the narration compares him directly to Snow White. With the added venomous pill stated outright, it only further cements the idea that Dazai’s actually committing suicide here.

I don’t particularly like this change, because it feels like this moment was set up entirely just to divert the audience’s expectations, rather than it be a standalone scene that makes sense when considering the rest of the story. (It might not necessarily be a change, possibly just a rough translation from movie to novel). 

6. When Atsushi wakes up from his nightmare, there’s some additional inner monologue:

Everything’s okay. I’m not the same person I was when I lived at the orphanage. I have friends. I have a place where I belong — the Armed Detective Agency. Things are different now.

The anime (and in turn the movie) tends to downplay the effects of Atsushi’s trauma — probably due to the limitations of anime — but regardless the novel portrays it much better with how Atsushi’s trauma affects practically every aspect of his life. 

7. I thought Fukuzawa’s ability only gave his subordinates control over their abilities, but the novel says:

“Yukichi Fukuzawa and his skill, All Men are Equal, a peculiar ability that allowed him to suppress and control his subordinates’ skills.”

Does this mean that Fukuzawa could control and suppress all of the agency’s abilities? It could be a weird translation, but it seems oddly specific.

8. This detail isn’t actually a novel exclusive, but it is an extremely small detail that I missed while watching the movie, so I figured I would add it here too.

“the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.”

Considering how abilities act as the shadow to every character in this story, this is a nice detail that shows how Kunikida’s inner desire is to compromise, because carrying such heavy ideals is undoubtedly a burden. However, because he holds onto his ideals so strongly, it becomes his biggest weakness AND his biggest strength.

9. There’s a super small detail added to this scene with Dazai, Fyodor, and Shibusawa. When Dazai suggests that Shibusawa could be saved by an angel or a demon, the following exchange occurs:

“Hmm... Maybe an angel?” Dazai picked up the skull on the table. “Or maybe a demon?” “It’s obvious what both of your true intentions are, if you ask me.” The third man mirthfully cackled and took the skull from Dazai’s hand.

In the movie, Dazai doesn’t pick up anything, so as a result Fyodor doesn’t take anything from Dazai either. 

Because Fyodor walked into the scene after Dazai suggested that an angel or demon would save Shibusawa, I strongly suspect that this was foreshadowing future events in which Fyodor does “save” Shibusawa by giving him his memories back.

The novel adds more to this foreshadowing by having Dazai pick up the skull before it’s taken by Fyodor — essentially having Fyodor take the cards out of Dazai’s hands and put them in his favor. 

It’s also worth pointing out that the skull is also the object that Fyodor uses to revive Shibusawa into a supernatural ghost of some sorts at the end of the story.

10. This may be just a difference in translations but in the movie, Shibusawa refers to Fyodor as “Demon Fyodor-kun”, whereas in the novel Fyodor is called “Fyodor the Conjurer.” (Ango uses the Conjurer title as well).

In western esotericism, a conjurer is a person who summons supernatural beings, like spirits, demons, or God.

This slightly changes the connotation of Fyodor’s title from a inhuman being of pure malicious intent to just a human who summons these otherworldly beings. This idea also aligns with Shibusawa’s revival, since he’s some sort of supernatural ghost that was “summoned” by Fyodor. 

11. Skipping past the parts where Kyouka and Akutagawa regain their abilities, and Chuuya talks to Ango in the government facility, (since they have little to no changes between the movie and the novel) there is a somewhat significant detail changed in Draconia once again with Dazai and Fyodor.

In the novel, this glowing ball of energy from the movie is actually described as an apple: 

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a juicy sphere. They had produced a single apple — a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood.

It birthed a skill — and an extremely powerful one at that — the ability to absorb. Every last crystal adorning Draconia’s walls was sucked into the apple with intense force. Ten — a hundred — a thousand — two thousand — every last one was greedily devoured by the apple...

The apple swelled as it absorbed the numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

Since the “dead apple” motif aligns with Fyodor’s character, we can assume that the apple is representative of sin, and sin is associated with abilities, as Fyodor believes.

This strange poisoned apple is made of abilities and has an ability (the ability to absorb), and it commits a sin (greed) in its devouring of other abilities; it’s also hotter than “hell”, which is a very specific connection that leads me to this idea:

My theory is that a normal apple represents life, while a poisoned apple (or dead apple), indicative of a stained, impure life, represents sin. Fyodor believes abilities are akin to sin (what a clever rhyme), therefore all of their lives are sinful.

12. This is arguably the most insignificant change of this entire post, but I feel obligated to put it here regardless since it was different from the movie. When the Special Division detects the singularity of Shibusawa’s dragon form in the novel, it says:

“Abnormal values for singularity are increasing! They’re twice — no, 2.5 times higher than they were six years ago.”

In the movie, the number is five times higher instead.

Why did this number change? Is it significant? I honestly have no idea (I’m surprised I even caught this), but it’s there and I had to document it anyways. 

13. The novel adds this narration for Shibusawa when he gets his memories back and he’s in the orphanage’s room with Atsushi:

“Shibusawa clearly recalled the events from six years ago. Fyodor had enticed him to go to the orphanage where he tortured a young Atsushi... until Atsushi fought back and killed him.”

There’s two things to take away from this: Fyodor had known Shibusawa for at least six years, and Fyodor had been planning the events of Dead Apple since at least six years ago. 

I find it hard to believe that Fyodor’s plan was thwarted by Dazai, because of how Fyodor demonstrated his ability to plan ahead in the main series, but I’m not sure what the long term effects of this plan could be. If Shibusawa succeeded, then it could’ve aligned with the DOA’s goals, but once again I don’t think Fyodor’s plan was actually foiled.

14. Super minor once again, but right after Shibusawa gets revived, the last sentence of chapter 5 is,

“Nobody would ever see the smile on Fyodor’s face.” 

Honestly, I think this was just added to create an ominous tone, but it’s a nice detail regardless.

15. As the red fog spreads across Yokohama, there’s a good part of exposition that connects the “dead apple” motif to Fyodor once again:

“After the red fog devoured the earth, the planet would undoubtedly look like a floating red apple from space. There would be no humans left on its surface, nor any signs they ever existed. It would be a true paradise, and with that, the Dead Apple would finally be complete. A dead planet covered in red fog — that was what Fyodor had planned and sought out.

Nothing other than death could wash away the original sin of man, so it was only fitting for the sin, which started with a fruit, to end with one as well. 

It’s pretty long, but I like the way this passage is written, more specifically the last part since it fits well with the sinful poisoned apple idea.

It also aligns with Fyodor’s ideals of creating a true paradise, free of ability users. However, if Fyodor had planned to have the Earth covered in fog, that could mean that his plan was actually stopped by Dazai and Atsushi in the end.

16. Shibusawa has a few additional lines of dialogue when he talks to Atsushi in their final fight.

“The dragon and tiger... I see now why they are called rivals.”

The dragon and tiger have their roots in Chinese Buddhism, but to go further into that topic would make this already lengthy post even longer.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not blaming you for what happened.”

This line is a brief moment of weakness for Shibusawa, which is interesting in contrast to his strong will to kill Atsushi. Just as Atsushi learned to accept the past and the tiger’s ferocity, Shibusawa shares the same attitude by separating the blame from himself to just simply accepting the past for what happened.

17. In the aftermath of the last fight against Shibusawa, Atsushi and Kyouka meet up with Dazai.

Kyouka asks, “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” which prompts two different responses in the movie and novel respectively.

In the movie, Atsushi says, “Just as Shibusawa was able to forget that he’d been killed before, I think Dazai can put his past behind him again. But this is fine.”

In the novel, Atsushi says:

“... I could probably seal away this memory just like how I’d forgotten I’d killed him before. But... I’m okay with this.”

I interpreted Kyouka’s question in the movie to be questioning Dazai’s loyalties, as he did betray everyone, and Atsushi responded in Dazai’s defense because he trusts him.

However, the novel does change Atsushi’s response to focus on himself rather than Dazai, which in turn changes the implications of Kyouka’s question. 

Kyouka seems to be asking Atsushi whether he was okay with killing Shibusawa, and Atsushi responds by acknowledging that he did kill Shibusawa, and that’s okay. (a very clear development from the beginning of the story when he believed it was unnecessary to kill anyone, and he didn’t want to kill anyone)

18. In the epilogue, Ango talks about the underlying motivations behind the “Dead Apple” case. This change could be attributed to translation differences (like many others in this post), but the connotation does slightly differ from movie to novel. 

In the movie, Ango says, “How is a man like Shibusawa, so intelligent that others look like alien creatures to him, to act, to be destroyed, or to be saved?”

In the novel, Ango says:

“Perhaps the two of them [Dazai and Fyodor] just wanted to get a glimpse of someone like them... Perhaps they wanted to see what he would do and how he would meet his demise... or perhaps how he would be saved.”

The movie simply poses a broad question of what would happen to Shibusawa, a person alienated from the rest of society. 

The novel changes this to focus on Dazai and Fyodor’s perspective — two irredeemable aliens from society just like Shibusawa — executing this grand scheme out of curiosity to see what would happen to someone of the likes of them, and if there’s a possibility for redemption.

19. This is the final difference on this list, and it’s quite a large change. In Fyodor’s monologue at the very end of the story, he has a completely different tone from the movie to novel.

In the movie, Fyodor says, “But in order to end this world, rife with crime and punishment, I do need that book.”

The novel says: 

Glittering high-rises and stately brick buildings stood side by side in this port city with its countless citizens who struggled against crime and punishment. “I think I’ve taken a liking to this city myself..”  Fyodor took a bite of the apple in his hand, and the juicy nectar ran down his delicate fingers. “You’d all better be on your best behavior until next time.”

The reference to the book may have been removed for consistency with the main series, as the book is a part of the DOA’s plan (or more specifically Fukuchi). 

It also seems like Fyodor has grown fond of the city, and no longer wants Yokohama to be destroyed, so it’s still possible that his plan deterred from what he had originally intended.

Beyond that, I’m not entirely sure why crime and punishment was mentioned, or why there’s such an ominous tone to his ending statement, but that’s up to personal interpretation. 

That concludes the long list of extremely specific and minor differences between the Dead Apple movie and light novel! 

Overall, I would say it’s worth checking out the light novel if you don’t have a strong grasp of the Dead Apple story, because it definitely presents the small intricacies of the plot in a more comprehensible way. 

On a side note, the manga adaptation has a lot of noticeable differences from the movie and light novel, mostly with the addition of entirely new scenes (which you can read @buraihatranslations​ — what a shameless self plug). I would highly recommend reading it as those extra scenes are very amusing, to say the least without giving any spoilers.

Honestly, this post was a lot longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Thank you for reading!

[bluerose5]

First Impressions (Part 1)

Word Count: 1,726

Rated T (Warnings for Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence)

Summary: What if, after receiving that call from Garrus while he was pinned down on Omega, Castis tries to track him down?

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I'm sure." Alec's smile turned mocking, the vitriol directed more towards himself. "I'm no Shadow Broker, but I still have my list of contacts here on the Citadel, even if it's dwindling by the seconds."

"Alec—"

"I don't need your pity, Castis." His smile fell, a subtle frown curling at the edges of his lips. "Besides, I'm doing this as a favor for a friend. Father to father. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Castis Vakarian sighed, "so I do."

It had been quite some time since the elder Vakarian graced the Citadel with his presence, but ever since he received that call...

"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

Even now, the echoes of gunfire rang in his ears, but not as much as the resignation in Garrus’s voice.

"Target practice," Garrus had called it.

As if an experienced C-Sec officer with common sense couldn't tell the difference between target practice and an all-out gunfight.

Even now, Castis's chest tightened.

The thought of losing Garrus now, especially when his mother's condition wasn't showing any signs of improvement—

Castis couldn't stand the thought. He couldn't lose both his wife and his son all at once.

When Garrus never reported back, he had to do something. After he spoke with some old friends on the Citadel, Alec Ryder put out some feelers of his own at his friend's request. For a while, there was nothing.

Then, they got a hit.

The Normandy SR-2, arriving to the Citadel from Omega. A ship flagged by Citadel Control's security algorithms for having alleged ties to the pro-human extremist group known only as Cerberus.

It was under the command of no other than Commander Shepard.

Why was Castis not surprised?

Between his and Alec's contacts, they had been able to discern that there were indeed aliens listed as part of the ship’s crew. A surprising move, given the organization's history, but Castis was far from calling them friends. Just because they expanded recruitment beyond their own species did not make them allies.

Add in a Spectre miraculously back from the dead, and the whole situation reeked of trouble.

Alec agreed, so they approached the matter with caution.

Thankfully, Solana understood when Castis had to drop everything and go. All that she asked was that he return home with the knowledge that Garrus was safe. That's it.

Of course, that wasn't enough to satisfy him.

Castis knew that Garrus was alive now, but that wasn't enough.

The next time he and Alec were pinged, they received intel stating that Garrus was spotted poking around the shipping sector of Zakera Ward with Commander Shepard, seeking out a notorious forger. For what? Spirits only knew.

The only other info that they had was that there was a drell and a quarian accompanying them as well.

While they awaited positive IDs on those two, they continued following Garrus’s trail, questioning the loose-lipped volus who was more than happy to give up Fade's position after his lousy bodyguards wandered off for a break.

Eventually, they were led to Harkin's position. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Garrus had already been there, what with the trail of bodies and mechs they left in their wake.

Seeing Harkin curled up on the floor, the bastard took one look up at them, then swore under his breath.

"Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me," he spat. "First your son, and now you? Haven't you Vakarians done enough?"

"Heh," Alec chuckled. "We're just getting started, tough guy."

Tapping at his omni-tool, Castis sent out an alert. While he dealt with Harkin, Alec approached the open console nearby, downloading all of its content, including the most recent call to a client.

"Have fun explaining yourself to C-Sec, Harkin, or is it Fade now?" Castis paused, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered down at him. "You can't resist making a fool of yourself for even a second, can you?"

"Hot take, coming from you." Harkin sneered. "You can't even keep that hot-headed son of yours on a leash. Bet C-Sec was glad to finally have his insubordinate ass off the force."

Castis saw red.

He took a step forward, but Alec's hand came down onto his shoulder, stopping him in his path.

"He's not worth it," Alec reminded him gently. As C-Sec swarmed the area, Alec jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "Come on. Let’s go find him before it's too late."

They strolled out together, heads ducked close and voices kept low.

"Did you find anything?" Castis asked.

"More than enough," Alec assured him. "Garrus is looking for a turian by the name of Lantar Sidonis."

"Can't say I've heard of him."

"Hmm..." Alec hummed thoughtfully to himself. "There was a location sent to set up a meeting. Orbital Lounge."

"Good work," Castis said, but Alec shrugged off the praise. "Let's go."

They stopped to make a quick change in a clothing store along the way. They got dressed in casual attire, posing as a couple of friends enjoying the sights.

By the time they made it to the lounge, Castis was already getting antsy. He struggled to maintain his cover, his eyes darting this way and that.

Alec elbowed him in the side.

"Calm down," he warned. He turned towards a random window display to glance over the selection of model ships. "Maintenance walkway above. Over your shoulder and to the right."

Castis snuck a peek as soon as he had the chance to.

He felt all of the blood drain from his face.

Turning quickly back towards the display, he hissed under his breath, "He has a rifle."

Alec shushed him before they could attract too much attention.

"I know, but do we really want to announce that little fact to the entire plaza?!" he whispered frantically.

Right.

Taking a deep breath, Castis composed himself. Usually, he wasn't this bad at remaining undercover, but the stakes were too high —too personal— to ignore.

It was hard to remain calm when your son was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Killing in a public place...

What happened to make him fall so far?

"I spotted someone up there with him," Alec said, breaking Castis of his reverie. "Shepard, maybe?"

Looking around at the crowd, Castis shook his head a moment later.

"No, not Shepard. Look. To your left."

Alec followed his line of sight, then ducked his head back down.

"Her, the quarian, and I'm assuming that's Sidonis," Alec said, counting them off one by one. "Which means that might be the drell up top with Garrus. A lookout, perhaps?"

"Hmph."

That was when Castis noticed the spotting laser.

His pupils narrowed into thin slits.

"No."

Alec stopped him again, stepping out in front of him with his hands spread wide.

"Wait, wait, wait," he ordered. "Let's see how this plays out first."

Castis turned on him with a glare.

"My son is about to commit a murder in plain sight, and you want me to wait?" he snapped.

"I want you to think clearly," Alec corrected. "Take another look at who the spotting laser is trained on."

Staring him down, Castis huffed impatiently, but quickly complied. They couldn’t afford to be stuck at an impasse at such a crucial moment.

One look was enough to clear up the image that had been blurred by emotion.

What in the—

"No." Castis shook his head in disbelief, but that didn't change what he was witnessing. "No, Garrus is too fond of the Commander. He wouldn't hurt her."

The conviction with which he spoke surprised even himself, but Garrus's attachment to Shepard was undeniable, as much as he was loath to admit it.

Even then, he couldn’t deny what was right there in front of him. The spotting laser was focused on the back of Commander Shepard’s skull, clear as day.

However, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

When Sidonis moved, Garrus followed him, but the Commander was instantly there to block his opening.

There were a few tense moments where words were exchanged, far too quiet to hear from where Alec and Castis were positioned. They went back and forth for a bit, and Castis admittedly feared for the worst when both Shepard and Sidonis started to leave.

The second Garrus had a clear shot at Sidonis, Castis held his breath.

But the shot never came.

"Well," Alec muttered, "that was anticlimactic."

Castis glared and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"That's my son, Ryder."

With a grumble, Castis dragged Alec along. Their hunt wasn't over yet.

"You should meet mine. I feel like if Scott would've let him go, then he would have somehow managed to pull the trigger by accident. A real stroke of bad luck, that one."

"Spirits."

Strolling through the crowds, they laid low for as long as they could.

By the time they found Garrus again, he was talking with the others by a skycar terminal, presumably waiting on a cab.

A whole flood of emotions came crashing down on Castis at once, and there was no holding back. Not anymore.

Ignoring Alec's warnings not to do anything rash, Castis stormed off in their direction.

Insane how, after so many years of being friends, the N7 was only choosing now to try to be the voice of reason when Castis wanted to be anything but.

Out of everyone, the drell noticed him first, regarding him with suspicion.

Before he could warn him, Castis called out, "Garrus!"

The other three instantly froze, right before they turned to face him.

Garrus’s eyes widened, his mandibles falling slack as he gaped.

"Dad?"

"'Dad?!'" Shepard and the quarian echoed, shocked by such an unexpected turn of events.

The drell, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"Ah, his father," he hummed, nodding in understanding. "Your presence in the lounge makes sense now."

Alec's brow furrowed.

"Hold up, you knew we were there?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call you two 'subtle.'"

"That doesn't matter!" Castis snapped.

Clenching his jaw, his mandibles were clamped down tight.

Time to get this meeting back on track.

"Garrus, we need to talk."

[lyracasstuff]

!!!! could i please get hcs for naib and demi (separately) with a princess s/o (fem)? like her role is a princess and all that jazz :D (i recently made a main which is this one, im an idv blog myself i just like requesting things for other blogs :D)

I really really like this request..（・∀・）

Although, please excuse me if these headcannons are shorter for your taste,, I had been busy for quite a while,, and so my brain juices are a little drained...(⌒_⌒;)

Also,, hello fellow idv blogger!!（〜^∇^)〜

Naib and Demi x Fem! Princess! S/o👑✨

Naib Subedar🌛🌌

He would really be shocked and confused as to 1) HOW you got here? And 2) WHY are you here?

You, a ROYAL? Someone who's been sheltered and pampered ALL her LIFE, would PARTICIPATE in a gruesome game like THIS???

He really couldn't understand it..

Although he was very curious about you,, he *did* hold himself back from walking up to you and just bombard you with ALL sorts of questions..

So, it took the both of you some time to be acquainted with each other.. Naib started out small,, like greeting you with a rather stiff and rusty bow in an attempt to "match" with your own elegant courtesy whenever you two crossed paths..( ´ ▽ ` )

Or pulling your seat for you whenever you would sit down and prepare for a match..

To even lending you a hand in carrying your stuff when they were too heavy such as books, clothes, personal hygeine items, hair care, skin care, etc...

(Naib really wonders if you REALLY needed all of your 50 ballgowns and dresses...)

He just really wants you to feel at home despite being trapped in a manor..

On the topic of making you feel at home...

There's another thing aside from doing acts of service: protectiveness

He understands that you were most likely protected and guarded by knights before you went into the manor,, so you *probably* didn't know much about self defense...

So if anyone EVER tries to touch you, be it your hair, your face, your arm..

You can *BET* that Naib is going to be slapping said person's hand away while ushering you to get behind him..

He WILL do this to BOTH survivor OR hunter by the way...(｡･ω･｡)

You were very much pleased by Naib's protection and support,, he was just like your own personal butler and knight back home!!

Over time,, Naib's gestures had gotten bolder and bolder...

He went from doing acts of service, to teaching you how to kite, how to heal, how to rescue, how to vault windows, etc...

However,, you may or may not have teared up from the fact that you accidentally snagged a piece of your favorite dress from trying to put down a pallet...(^_^;)

Naib really panicked at that time.. He knows how to sew open wounds, not dresses and ballgowns!! (◎_◎;)

Nevertheless,, the both of you would still have fun by the end of the day..

Naib really couldn't help but be in love with you... How could he not though?? You were so sweet and elegant in everything that you do..

Even during the moments where you weren't the most elegant,, he still cherished it all the same..( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

Which is why he REALLY couldn't deny his jealousy and saltiness towards Wu chang, Joseph, heck,, even Mary sometimes.. Joseph and Mary are both nobles so OF COURSE you would relate to the aristocratic life,, and Wu chang were GUARDS before they got into the manor,, so OF COURSE they would serve as better protectors than he is..

Then, look at him,, he's nothing more than a man whose ENTIRE job revolves around killing targets that his clients propose.. Well,, at least that's what he thinks anyways..

Be that as it may,, Naib's mind would still be plagued by this thought.. So much so that He doesn't even notice that he's been distancing himself from you...

You aren't the same however... You KNOW that something's been disturbing him, you KNOW that something's upsetting him.. You can literally FEEL it..

And so,, in these times, you would decide to come visit him in his designated room,, all the while comforting him and telling him that while he may not be a noble or a guard,, you still love him regardless of his status and that you are grateful for everything that he's done for you..❤

Naib says nothing,, however, his body language and look of pure love and adoration on his face tells you everything you need to know..❤❤❤

That day has now marked an important event of your lives: the start of a new, blooming relationship..（⌒▽⌒）

First of all,, remember how I talked about his jealousy and protectiveness?? Well,, those just got amplified when you two are confirmed to be in a relationship now..

He sometimes does this thing where if someone wants to speak with you,, Naib would do either of these 2 things: either he asks you if you want to speak to them OR if he's feeling a little selfish with your time,, he just tells them to go "set up an appointment" with you...

He is really astonished at all the different kinds of spoons and forks, all the different etiquettes you follow, the amount of tiaras that you have...

And *especially* at how many relatives that you have.. Which was MUCH larger than the average family size...

((Fun fact: During the Victorian Era, the average family size was actually 6 children.. It had gone down by half by the end of said Era..))

I can't tell why,, but I have this headcannon in my mind that Naib actually prefers more simpler clothing on you.. He just doesn't like too much "eye clutter" per say...

That,, and there's just something so mesmerizing about your regal beauty meshing into the very simple clothing that Naib just finds so.. Heavenly..

All in all,, Naib is just dumbfounded and amazed as to how you had fallen in love with him and just how lucky he is at being with someone like you..

🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚🌛💚

Demi Bourbon🍺🍷

Much like Naib,, Demi over here is confused as to what a royal is doing here...

Unlike Naib, however, Demi is more upfront and straightforward and would just walk up to you and ask you directly..

"Woah!! Hey there!! What's a cute lil blueblood doin here??"

You get this question a LOT.. It stuck around for so long that it became an inside joke whenever Demi sees you in the same room as her...╮(─▽─)╭

Now,, she may be a girl,, but don't be fooled... She's surprisingly strong for her physique... So she'll DEFINITELY help you carry your stuff...

Just be prepared to be bombarded with ALL SORTS OF QUESTIONS about your stuff..

"Daaammnnn~ You royals really love your fancy schmancy stuff,, do you??"

"Ooooohhhh~~ A diamond encrusted necklace?? Hey, you wouldn't mind me borrowing it right??"

"This ball gown matches well with one of my costumes! Hey, how about we both dress up? We would REALLY look great together~❤"

You're going to have to get used to these questions someday...（・∀・）

She DOES teach you the basics,, but in all honesty, she never really lets you apply the things that you learned when you're actually in matches...

A hunter is right behind you?? You can bet that Demi will chug down her D.U.P.H.R.I.N, run as fast as she could and sweep you off your feet in a bridal carry..（＾ｖ＾）

"It is I, Your Knight in shining armor!!"

This happens all the time in matches

A hunter is preparing to take a swing on you?? Well,, not on Demi's watch!! Before the hunter can swing their weapon at you, Demi takes one of her bottles and smashes it onto their head...

She DID lose some morality points for that though....

Eventually,, you had to tell Demi that as much as you appreciate her "support", you still have to stand on your own,, ESPECIALLY when Demi is not in the same match as you are..

Demi would *reluctantly* agree and say that she just can't stand the thought of you being hurt, she doesn't want you to be in harm's way because she knows that some survivors *probably* just see you as dead weight,, considering you've been pampered your whole entire life..

Demi would then go on and tell you that she had been taking a liking towards you, and is interested in being in a relationship with you..

"Listen, your highness, I may not be an ACTUAL knight in shining armor, or a prince from some far away land.. But, I'd still want to take a chance at persuing you.. So, what do you say? Will you allow me to take a chance at wooing your heart??"

You of course say yes,, besides, you don't really care if she is of noble blood or not.. Her bold and daring personality is what made you like her..

And thus,, your relationship has started!!

Demi gets a *little* protective over you,, ESPECIALLY when someone's trying to flirt with you..

"Ah, ah, ah, she's mine~~"

"Oi, she's already taken, you idiot! How about go flirtin with someone who's NOT TAKEN???"

Demi over here doesn't really have any problem regarding jealousy,, if anything,, YOU might be the one having some jealousy problems here and there..

Because Demi practically flirts with anything and everything..

Never fear!! Demi would ALWAYS be there to give you reassurance that you're her one and only..( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

After that,, she'll tone down her flirty nature by a couple of notches so as to not worry you too much...

Demi would also serve you drinks!! For FREE!!(ノ^o^)ノ

The best part about this is that,, not only are you getting it for free, but you're also getting the FINEST quality...

And she serves your drink in the most dramatic way possible,, all accompanied by a cheeky wink at the end..😉

"Only the FINEST for your highness~❤"

Overall,, your relationship with Demi is surely an exciting and playful one! But don't let that make you think that Demi doesn't take you seriously..

Because she does!! And she will ALWAYS take your relationship seriously!!❤❤❤

🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷🍺🍷

Author's note: I apologize if these headcannons are shorter and a bit "lackluster" for everyone's taste.. As stated before,, I had been busy as of late, so I wasn't able to regain much of my brain juices to write properly like usual..

Nevertheless,, I still hope that you enjoyed reading these headcannons!! (⌒_⌒;)(*´∀`*)

Until next time!! See you all in my next post!!ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ💚

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

The Portrait of Love

Fandom: The Mentalist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader  (Reader wears a dress, but other than that no gender sign posts) 

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Requested by @iamburdened​: ‘Heart eyes when the other talks, sings, dances, argues, does literally anything especially things which others make fun of them for or find annoying’ with Pike because this baby boy deserves just the absolute best!! Cont.

Summary: When Marcus takes to you a work gala for the first time, he just expects a nice night chatting with colleagues and being proud to have his partner on his arm. He’s in truth a little bit worried that you’ll get bored hearing him talk about the latest art recoveries, truthfully, there’s nothing you enjoy more than listening to Marcus talk passionately about something. 

Notes:  Spent about 15 minutes just deciding which painting he should talk about in depth because research is important to me. Every time I write Marcus I just get this deep longing to curl up with him and express my love. 

Archiveofourown

“Hey, honey, you ready to go?” He’s straightening his tie in your hallway mirror. Marcus had been predictably early to pick you up for this FBI Gala, but he didn’t mind waiting for you to finish getting ready. It gave him time to straighten out his tie, brush off his suit jacket, and check that his beard wasn’t getting a little too wild now that he’d decided it was staying for the foreseeable future. 

The two of you hadn’t been dating long, four months at this point, and he’d never taken you to any of his work parties or events before. But, after a little bit of a pep talk consisting of talking to himself in his bathroom mirror one morning he’d decided to take that leap and invite you further into his life. Even if the possibility of getting hurt again gripped his heart with fear. 

The gala was just the usual sort, schmoozing with officials and encouraging interdepartmental cooperation. There’d be alcohol, finger foods, some music, but mostly talking. He didn’t mind them, they usually meant he got to have a chat with friends in other departments and it helped to meet new people who might be helpful on a future case. He wasn’t sure, however, if you’d enjoy yourself at all. You weren’t a big party person, preferring to stay in with him and cuddle on the sofa while watching a movie and eating take-away food, and you didn’t know many people there. Conversation would be work based and he’s not sure how riveting talking about stolen art really is in truth. But, you’d agreed and he was at least proud to know you’d be hanging off his arm tonight. He usually went to these things alone and his team were starting to tease him about this mysterious partner of his that he never brought along, not that he was trying to hide you. He just...he just didn’t want to rush things, that had been his failing in the past. 

“Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” You’re fastening the clasp of your necklace as you walk down the hall from your bedroom. When you’re greeted by silence after grabbing your bag off the sofa, you flick your eyes to Marcus. 

He’s standing stock still in the hallway, hand still gripping his tie, mouth slightly agape as his lower jaw drops just a fraction of an inch. He’s handsome, always is, but there’s something about a well cut suit and crisp white shirt that looks especially good on his broad shouldered frame. He’s even trimmed his beard, just enough to neaten it up, determined to keep it’s length after you commented on how handsome he was with it one too many times. 

“Marcus? Are you okay, baby?” 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m...I’m fine. You just..” He takes a deep breath, stilling himself. C’mon, Marcus, this is your partner for God’s sake. “You look beautiful, wow, really, really good...wow, sweetheart.” He wants to kick himself for how inelegant that was, of all the things he could say and he’s stumbling over how radiant you look, practically effervescent, some sort of ethereal being that he’s lucky enough to call his. 

The dress really does look beautiful on you, following the curvature of your body, the soft lines that he’s hugged close more often than not. He’s half tempted to just forgo the gala, grab your hand and tug you back to your bedroom where he can get lost in the shape of you. But, you’ve put so much effort into getting ready and there’s an excitement in your eyes that makes him think you might actually want to go to this thing. He’d never take that opportunity away from you. 

You laugh at him, but it doesn’t feel mean or mocking, just the sweet humoured expression of enjoyment at his words. A wide smile, the one he loves the most, twisting at the corners of your lips and crinkling the skin by your eyes. God, he loves you. He’s not ready to say it and he’s sure you’re not ready to hear it. But, he knows he loves you and this time, this time he hopes that it’ll work out. 

“Thank you, baby...you look very dashing. The picture of a handsome gentleman.” You walk up to him, hands smoothing out the lapels of his jacket, gentle touches over his shoulders, before easing his hands away from his tie and holding them in your own. The kiss you place on his lips is soft and chaste, but he can feel that warmth in the pit of his stomach, the longing for you that burns brighter whenever you’re around. 

He’s sure there’s a hint of redness to his cheeks, he always burns brighter in the face around you too. You have a way of flustering him like he’s 17 years old again and not a fully grown adult with a house, a car and a proper and responsible job. 

“C’mon, if we don’t go now we’ll be late and didn’t you say you wanted to talk to Andrews about that case you just finished up?” 

“Yeah, yeah I did.” It’s the fact that you remembered something so minute, something so miniscule that has him smiling wider at you and holding your hand as he walks you to his car. Like always he opens the door for you and helps you get in, adjusting the bottom of your dress so that it doesn’t get trapped in the door, before even thinking about getting into the car himself. He’s a gentleman and it’s the thoughtless, unthinking nature of it that makes your heart jump the most. He doesn’t do it to impress you, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, he just...does. 

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

The gala is enjoyable, it’s not some massively energetic affair but you like that, like that it doesn’t feel too overwhelming, that you can wrap your arm through Marcus’ and not fear losing him in the crowd. That you can chat with his colleagues, get to know the team mates who tease him about you saying ‘Oh, so this is your mystery partner!’, and enjoy the soft instrumental music that plays in the background. 

Marcus practically preens every time someone compliments you on your outfit, there’s no jealousy, just pride and it amuses you to see him puff his chest out and stand a little straighter before looking over at you like you’ve got the world in the palm of your hands. You hope he sees you react in much the same way when someone compliments the cut of his suit or the trimmed beard. He’s a handsome man, a kind man, a good man, and everything about him makes you proud to say he’s yours even if you’re only four months into your relationship.

You’re just nibbling on some small pastries of some kind when a booming voice calls over the other people, many of whom turn to look before rolling their eyes as if they should have expected it. 

“Pike! How’re you doing?” The man in question is older than Marcus by quite a few years, coiled grey hair and a warm smile on his face as he grabs Marcus’ free hand in a friendly shake. 

“Hey, Andrews, not too bad, yourself?” It’s clear from the smile on Marcus’ face that he likes this man, but having heard him talk about Andrews in passing you knew the two were something of work buddies despite being in completely different departments. 

“Oh, well given the amount of complimentary booze I’ve been throwing back, pretty good!” 

“Andrews, this is my partner, Y/N.” 

“Y/N, this is David Andrews he works in the Behaviour Analysis Unit.” Marcus introduces you to him, with an arm around your waist pulling you tight against him. The smile that beams down at you is nothing if not bright and proud to introduce you to his friend and you can’t help but smile back with similar ardor. 

“Should I be worried that you’ll psychoanalyse me?” 

“I’m a gentleman, Y/N, I’d never profile and tell.” It’s said with a wink, but that sort that’s more humour than flirtation. It puts you at ease and makes him seem more approachable. Unlike, some of the people you’d met tonight who were a bit stiffer in personality and harder to relax around. 

“So Marcus, about that last case you mentioned? A Klimt?” You know Marcus has been dying to talk about the case too, always on the verge of bringing it up before telling you that he’s sure you don’t want to hear about it. He always ends up stopping himself and every time something distracts you from forcing the issue because there is nothing boring about Marcus’ work or anything he’s passionate about. 

“You really want to know?”

“You know you’re the only one who’ll talk to me about art! Even my wife gets bored of hearing me talk about art and behaviour analysts are more interested in serial killers and their mummy issues!” David Andrews is a warm man and you settle yourself comfortably against Marcus’ side knowing he’s about to finally talk about his most recent case of art theft. You’re not an expert on art, not in the slightest and you’d never call it your calling in life or your major passion, but anything that gets Marcus to talk passionately is something you are enthralled by. 

“The Portrait of Adele Bloche-Bauer I, this rich guy bought it a couple years back for $135 million dollars. Big money, big painting, and pretty interesting history too. You know it was stolen by the Nazis during World War Two? Adele had asked her husband in her will to donate the Klimt paintings to the Austrian State Gallery when he died. When the Nazis took over Austria, he had to flee to Switzerland and leave them behind. The Nazis confiscated them and it in 1941.” 

You’re sure there are proverbial hearts in your eyes as you watch him, neck craning. His free hand moves as he talks, gesturing with each word and there’s a sparkle in his brown eyes when he talks about art, any art. Even art that he hates he talks about so passionately that you can’t help but enjoy anything he says. You lean your cheek on his shoulder as he talks and you’re sure it’s obvious in that moment how deeply in love you already are, even this early into your relationship.

“Now, this is a painting that’s over 100 years old, early 20th century, commissioned by a Jewish Banker, owned by a Jewish Banker and stolen by Nazis. The granddaughter won a legal suit to get the painting back and then sold it the exact same year.” 

David’s listening to Marcus, he really is, but he’s also watching you. If there was ever a time when the expression ‘like sun shines out of his ass’ applied then it was now. You were so clearly in love with Marcus, the soft crinkle of your eyes as you listened to him, the way you wrapped both arms around his waist, the attentive way you listened. You weren’t fawning over him to distract him, you were fawning over him because you enjoyed listening to him. It made the older man smile, Marcus had had it rough and it was clear he was finally on to a winner in the relationship department. He briefly considers starting a betting pool on when Marcus will propose or if you’ll beat him to the punch. Now that would be a surprise. 

“So this guy is sitting on this painting, he’s got it up in a gallery and it’s a Klimt, so you can imagine...It’s one of his last ‘golden phase’ paintings so all that gold has people flock to it and it’s a pricey painting too! Now we get a call a few months back saying it’s been stolen and it becomes a wild goose chase from there…” He’s too enthused with the art to really think about whether he’s boring you. It had been one of the most beautiful paintings he’d ever managed to recover and had he been dating you officially at the time he probably would have broken a few rules to let you see it. 

The night continues much like that. Marcus tells you and those around you about the cases he’s recently done, the paintings and sculptures he and his team had recovered and the history behind them. His knowledge was bolstered by an Art History degree and personal interest and research. While he does this you spend your time listening, genuinely interested in all the knowledge he displays, curled as close to him as you can be at a formal party, and staring at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky. 

It’s not hard to stare at him like that. In the few months you’d been dating he had proven to be a wonderful boyfriend, the perfect partner. While he had expressed a desire to move slowly because of past failed relationships and clearly had reservations about how far to go with you, what to say, what to withhold, and what was okay and not, he was nothing but loving. He respected you greatly, something easy to see with every action he took and every word he said. He always made sure you were okay with a course of action, asked your opinion regularly and listened when you had something to say. The few times you’d raised issues in your relationship he’d listened and so had you, the two of you working through the teething problems together to come out the other side better and stronger. He was unfailingly kind and considerate to you, there was never a day he didn’t compliment you or send you a good morning text, in return you always let him know you got home safe from work and told him how wonderful he was. He made sure you were okay when you were feeling sick or under the weather, always popping round after a long day of work to care for you. He never made you feel bad for a single thing you did for him, like the time you brought him flowers, nervous he’d hate them because your past boyfriends had been less receptive to the thought of them. He always held doors open for you and offered to carry your bag if it was heavy. He always made sure to leave you with a smile on your lips and never made you feel silly when you were upset or panicked. 

He had proven to be a wonderful person and wonderful boyfriend all on top of being so incredibly handsome that you wondered how you’d lucked out to find a man who was quite literally the whole package. If there was ever a man who screamed ‘I’m husband material, take me home to meet your entire family’, it was Marcus. He was mature, responsible, safe, and comforting. He wasn’t boring either, the whole concept of safe as a boring baffled you. There was nothing better than knowing you could rely on Marcus, that if he said he’d be somewhere he would, if he said he would do something then he would, that if he made a mistake or messed up he’d own it and apologise for it, that you could discuss problems and figure them out together. He made it all seem so easy and simple, he made the effort and the energy you put in worth it because it was appreciated and returned in equal measure. You never had to baby him or mother him, he was an adult who could look after himself. 

“Did you have a good time, honey? I know I talked a lot...hope you weren’t bored?” It’s asked as your hands are clasped swinging between the two of you on the walk back to his car, footsteps echoing around the quiet car park.

You lean your head on his shoulder, turning your cheek to press a quick kiss there even though he can’t feel it through the layers of clothing. “I had the best time...I love listening to you talk, baby, I don’t think you could ever bore me.” You want him to believe you, to be confident in that. The hesitation to talk to you about his interests bothers you because you love him and his passions, because you don’t want him to ever doubt your desire to listen. 

You pull him to a stop, both hands now holding one of his, forcing him to stop and look at you with raised eyebrows and a bemused smile. “I love listening to you talk about the things you’re passionate about, Marcus. Don’t hide it from me. Please.”

“You...you mean that?”

“Yes, I really mean it!” You say it with a laugh on your lips because how could you not love listening to him talk about the things he loves the most, the things he’s interested in. He had said on multiple occasions how much he loved hearing you talk about your interests, so why was it so hard for him to understand that you felt the same way. 

There’s something blinding to him about your smile in that moment, about the realisation that you actually want to listen to him, that you enjoy listening to him, that his love of Art history, something that his past partners have had little to no interest in, is something you want to hear about. From him. It...it stuns him a little bit in the best sort of way and for a minute he thinks maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe his ex-wife, Teresa, all of it was supposed to happen to bring him to you. Where he was supposed to be. 

He kisses you because he can’t bring himself to say he loves you yet. He’s scared if he says it, this magic feeling, this peaceful place you’ve found yourselves in will shatter like a dropped mirror. So, the love he feels for you, he pours into a kiss, arms wrapping tightly around you, a hand cupping the base of your head. You open your mouth to his without a second thought, your hands trailing up over his arms and shoulders before diving into dark brown hair that had been combed neatly for the evening. Kissing him always brings a warmth to your chest, a sort of ache that makes you want to cry happy tears. There is something so safe and welcoming about his embrace, something so warming about the gentle slide of tongue against yours and the press of his nose into your cheek. It’s all consuming, all you can think about is his touch, his smell, his presence, his warmth. The outside world fades away and only Marcus exists. 

“Can I take you home, Honey?” A large palm slips down low on your back as you pull away from each other, Marcus’ nose grazing against yours with a cheeky little smile and a familiar twinkle in his eye that means trouble.

“Only if you stay.” The twitch of one eyebrow and lopsided grin tell you you’re on the same page as you rush to his car like naughty children about to get in trouble and not fully grown adults. 

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

He’s grabbing some shitty coffee from the little kitchenette on his floor the day after the gala, feeling like his heads too fuzzy after a late night with you and the horrible event that was forcing himself out of a warm bed next to a warm body, when David walks by and spots him. 

Marcus is sure he probably looks as grumpy as he feels, he just...he really didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Not with you there all warm, gentle and soft. Bedhead everywhere and a little, little pool of drool underneath your arm, not that he’d tell you about that. It’s easy to get up at his place when he’s alone, there’s no one drawing him back, no warmth calling to him.

“So, how’s the partner? Still hanging on your every word?” The grin of David’s face spells trouble, the sort of trouble that usually ends with Marcus bright red in the face and feeling less put together than he should be as head of a department in the FBI. 

“What are you talking about?” The words confuse him...separately and individually they make sense. He knows David’s talking about you, who he left in your bed at 5am this morning to come into work early for a meeting. He knows he’s referring to something but not quite what, something to do with words and...and...did he miss something? He feels like he’s missed a whole chunk of a conversation. Marcus decides it’s far too early for this, especially after a long meeting that didn’t get anywhere. 

“Last night.”

“What about last night?” He’s definitely putting more sugar than is healthy in his coffee this morning, mostly to combat the bitter fatigue and maybe the short sugar buzz would make his brain understand what the hell David Andrews was talking about. Though that seemed less likely by the second, maybe he’d call you later...you might know what he was getting at. 

“Y/N, you did notice right?” The look he gives Marcus can only be described as shock turning to hilarity, as if Marcus had missed out on some obvious punchline to a joke. For a minute he wonders if he’s fucked up again...have...do you not like him anymore? Was this David’s way of warning him that he’d seen something in your face last night that spelled the end of his relationship? “Wait, you don’t...kid, you’re not seriously telling me you’re that blind?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, David.” He’s getting a little frustrated at this point. Usually not quick to get angry or annoyed, the thought that maybe you’d given some sign that you were ready to end their relationship was making him more irritable than normal. While he’d accept it if that was the case, he’s not sure his heart would survive another knockout in the love ring. 

“The heart eyes Y/N was giving you all night? Hanging on every word you had to say about art? Looking at you like you hung the moon? Not leaving your side for more than a few minutes at a time? Y/N’s in love with you, kid.” The grin on David’s face is so wide that all of his shiny white teeth appear blinding. There’s a panic that begins to grip Marcus’ heart, an instinctive reaction to the pace at which everything suddenly feels like it’s happening.

Once upon a time he would have enjoyed the rush, ran head first into it, but after too many failed relationships, rushed seemed scary, fast was too much. It was too soon, you’d been dating four months, you couldn’t possibly love him. Sure, he loved you but...but he always fell in headfirst, too quickly

“No...no...I mean...it’s too soon, right? We’ve only been dating a few months and...and…” He thinks back to Teresa, their quick, fast paced romance, the ultimate end when she left him for another man. About his ex-wife, how they’d rushed into marriage young, how it hadn’t been enough to keep her attention, he hadn’t been enough. Then he thinks of you. Of your smiling face, the softness with which you trace your fingertips over his shoulders when he stays the night, the way you laugh at all his jokes even the bad one’s...how you said you enjoyed hearing him talk about his passions last night.

“Look, just because you’ve been burnt before doesn’t mean you’re going to get burnt now. Pike, I've seen love and that was love in Y/N’s eyes. Not attraction, not like, not a crush, love. Maybe you’ve finally found someone going at your speed? Think about it.” 

He does. Think about it, that is. Takes his coffee back to his office and sits there for ages not looking at the files on his desk or the case work he has to get done, just thinking about you. He can’t really stop himself when he picks up the phone and dials your work number, knowing that you’ll answer, assuming something’s wrong most likely. 

“Marcus? Are you okay? Is everything alright?” You’re worried and that worry adds to the pounding of his heart, the ache in his chest. You worry about him. You care about him. You barely let the phone ring before picking it up. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, honey...I just…” His eyes drift to the paper weight on his desk, the one shaped like Michelangelo’s David, that you’d bought him on a trip to an Art Gallery. It reminded him of you whenever he looked at it. His free hand scratches across his beard as he leans more comfortably back in his chair. 

“Did...did something happen? Baby, are you…? You don’t sound okay?” You’re worried. Marcus doesn’t just call you in the middle of a work day, not unless something has happened. Despite his words he seems off, not his usual self and there’s an anxiety that fills your chest at the thought that something isn’t right, something isn’t like it normally is. 

“I’m great I just...I wanted to say I love you. I don’t say it enough...or at all.” He bites the bullet, knows it’ll come out at some point because he very rarely has any sense of patience. He knows the moment David said you might love him, he was a goner, he wasn’t going to be able to contain his own feelings. Because he loves you. Loves you so much that it’s hard on a morning when he actually wakes up beside you not to tell you he loves you. It’s hard not to say it when he leaves for work or when he phones during a rough case. 

There’s a pause on your end. He can hear your shaky breathing, the quick inhale of breath at his words. He has to close his eyes tight, just for a second, just to swallow down the feeling of nausea in his stomach at the thought that you might be about to tell him to take a hike. 

“You...you love me? Really?” It’s said with a happy little laugh in your voice, the sort that comes from awe, shock, an unexpected happiness that fills your chest. You can see some of your colleagues looking at you funny from the corner of your eye, but don’t really care in that moment. 

“Yeah, honey, I love you. So much. I just...it’s okay if you don’t want to say it, I...I don’t want to rush you or ruin what we have.” 

“Marcus, how could telling me you love me ever ruin what we have? God, baby, I love you too. So much, so so much!” 

He can’t help but laugh, it’s the relieved sort of laugh. You can hear the happiness in the breathy chuckle, can feel a few tears coming to your eyes because he loves you and you love him. Nothing could be better than that, then this feeling. 

The two of you stay on the phone for longer than you should considering you’re both at work, but in that moment, revelling in the happiness that only comes from sharing a declaration of love and receiving that love returned, you can’t find it within yourself to care. 

[the-dream-pawners-canvas]

[ Genshin Impact Imagines ]

Imagine #1 : Of Bargains and Contracts - That which is the most precious shade of gold

Vago Mundo - Zhongli

Imagine having doubts about the fairness of your contract with Zhongli.

After a long day of adventuring for one of Zhongli's rare botanical requests (that ofc, you obtained through your own expenses as per your contract- you felt robbed due to that, truly you did, in which universe was it fair to make the adventurer pay for expenses spent on obtaining your requests? However, you do not find yourself complaining -at least not directly to the person involved- any time soon. Not when he so easily smiles so handsomely -so happily- whenever you provide him with what he requested).

His smiles are going to run me dry of mora, I just know it, you tell yourself. One of these days it would and when you'd need to have a weapon refined but is too damned broke for it -or worse, go starving in the midst of one of your many journeys, Paimon would have your ass for it.

Maybe, just maybe, all of those supposed adventurers that Zhongli had once mentioned in one of his more factual tales to have often decided on staying in Liyue was because of him. Maybe he flashed a great many of them his polished smile and gentlemanly attitude and had just gotten them reeled in- hook, line, and sinker.

Putting it that way, he doesn't sound any more than a con-man, Paimon had blatantly stated so the other day,

'A well-mannered one but a con nevertheless! Who even forgets to bring their wallet nowadays, huh, (Y/N)? Think about it!'

And a part of you do consider it, do boil with the thought. That perhaps you were just being used, that maybe The Mysterious Guest of Wangshu Inn was no more than a conniving, sly, inconveniently comely-

To your surprise, you reach your destination, your thoughts quite a distracting orchestra dedicated to the funeral director. Thoughts that made you steel your nerves as you glared at the polished wooden doors that served as an entrance to Zhongli's study, your mind made up to hand a piece of it to the man who resided just beyond.

'Zhongli, I feel as if the contract we have is rather unfair. You cannot honestly expect me to continue on with this without going broke. We need to make amends to make this transactional relationship work. Paimon is already being a pain since they needed to cut off on food, I do not want to imagine how Kaeya would react once he learns that these commissions from you is funded by our joint expenses and with no reimbursement whatsoever.'

Okay, that sounds good, you think. Civil, proper and not watering down the gravity your true monetary concerns. He'd understand, you hope and place your bets on the proper man that you believe him to be. The concept of mora may just be entirely insignificant to him, only too inconveniently that he forgets he'd need those to make purchases and obtain basic necessities in between his more luxurious wants, which you find ironic.

Taking in a deep breath, you turn the knob of the door and pry it open only to be met by a sight that had might as well called dibs on your future funds down to the last mora.

There stood Zhongli, tall and elegant as always but with far lesser clothes than what he usually has on himself. His coat was nowhere to be seen and instead all there was is his cream undershirt and well-tailored trousers- too damned tight, shirt folded to his elbows, untucked, unbuttoned and deshriveled as his tie was. The longer strands of his luscious locks were out of their usual ponytail and instead pooled about his shoulders and down past his waist.

The backs of his thighs were flush against his mahogany office desk as he leaned back on it, body turned away from you as he concentrated on the energy that was quite literally pulsating as it hovered above the palm of his gloved hand.

The very object that casted such a rich and ethereal golden glow inside the darkened room, painting shadows and lights upon his already sculpted face as if oil on pristine canvas. It was a collection of the palettes that defined Liyue- the dawnbreaks mirrored by cor lapis that littered the ground and the sunsets and high noons radiated by the cryptic shrines and towers that stood as mighty pillars and age-old sentries over the entire island.

On his hand, and with eyes that glimmered with utmost concentration, Zhongli holds a manifesting geoculus-

-traces of the geo archon, the memories and legacy of Rex Lapis.

The implication of it all coaxed a sharp breath out of you and it was this that had snapped the man out of his trance-like preoccupation. He turns towards your general vicinity and his amber eyes widens in surprise for a fraction of a second, the entirety of him taking in the appearance of a deer that had just been caught underneath a street light,

"Ah! Traveler, you arrived far sooner than I had expected!" the distinct light rumble of an uncertain laugh colored his words, his elegant brows furrowing ever so slightly at the astounded look that seemed to have taken an enduring residence on your face before a dawning realization occurred to him- the geoculus he held on his hands.

In flagrante delicto.

"Far sooner, indeed." he chuckles, a fond look swimming in his eyes, a look that heated them into molten gold, gold that traveled unto your throat and spread through your chest like rare colored crystalflies, "It seems that the cat is finally out of the bag," he pushes himself off the table after dismissing the completed geoculus with a wave of his hand and takes languid -albeit, almost coy- steps towards you, those amber gems of his relentless on their search for the placement of your emotions regarding the matter at hand, "Tell me, dear traveler, what do you make of it?" his voice was deep, too deep, as if all intentions were drawn from wanting to drown you in every syllable that left his enticingly thin lips.

You gulp, your limbs suddenly at war as to whether it may find solace in seeking purchase on the ground or in running, "Y-you're... You're the geo archon." you stammered as you looked up at the man who now stood but a mere respectable distance in front of you. It was now you who quaked in front of him instead of the ground or a foe as would always whenever he would display his skill in battle or as portrayed in tales whenever a god would make itself known to mortals. Zhongli had no direct hand on your reaction however, it is the least of his intentions as he willed his presence to remain as it had been before- steady and strong, perhaps a bit intimidating but only to those who did wrong and with an enduring grace reminiscent of willow trees.

He hums in thought and bestows upon you a tender shake of the head, "I was meaning to ask about the feasibility of such unorthodox compensation for your troubles," he asks with the faintest hint of qualms.

You stood there in disbelief.

It just occurred to you then that on the course of your little commissions for him, with every flower he asked you to pick from the most perilous peaks there had always been a geoculus time and again- always a mere reach from where you ought to be, always without fail- a piece of his soul, an essence of Liyue, his memories, his very being and he asks you this as if they were worth so little.

You were getting more than you bargained for and here Zhongli was doing as you had done before- not for himself but on your behalf.

"I- your- a geoculus, an oculus, it's a region's very essence, did I get that right?" You ask even though you know that is the gist of it and a nod from Zhongli provides a seal of confirmation. Venti took the time to explain it to you and then some during one of his once-in-a-blue-moon somber days (when he had one too many drinks, and was in an oddly reminiscent mood), "Venti, he also said an oculus is thus a collection of the reigning archon's memories and a part of the whole that makes them. Is that also true?"

Delight brightens up his already pleasant lips, "I see you are well educated, traveler. Perhaps the bard is not as less as his drinking habits tend to make of him."

"Then why must you still ask me if it is worth my troubles? Of course it would be!" you suddenly find yourself indignant much to Zhongli's surprise, "You'd think such a significant part of you is worth so little, you'd have a heartattack once you skirt beyond the high walls blocking your emotional awareness and see just how many people are throwing themselves on your path just for a chance to pick at the crumbs underneath the soles of your boots!"

And then Zhongli's lips part, eyes glittering and pale cheeks paying homage to budding roses and he just stays like that for a couple of seconds and you realize that you may have run your mouth far too much.

You suddenly want to throw yourself off of one of Liyue's many gorges, good luck to anyone who might want to bother with finding your corpse.

Kaeya might just find that oddly amusing, Paimon not much so.

Zhongli clears his throat and holds his hands behind his back, an eyebrow raised in benevolent scrutiny, "Perhaps the bard may have taught you more than I initially expected. That, or you are -quite unexpectedly- a naturally smooth fellow who knows your way with words, traveler."

"Did you just call me a smooth-talker?" you don't know just where exactly this conversation would be leading you both but he's now making his way back to his desk with a sort of almost imperceptible perk on his steps and sway on his hips and you're now certain that you are compensated well above the usual pay grade by this suddenly too evasive, too temptingly slinky geo archon.

"Perhaps," Zhongli chuckles in amusement at your obvious verbal efforts to pin him back, "A flatterer indeed."

So here's a little fanart I did of our broke Geo daddei/archon, Zhongli! Along with a little imagine to spice things up!

I can't emphasize enough the amount of time, energy, positivity and irl mora this event had sucked out of me and I'm still yet to get him. I know my luck sucks at the highest possible level so would y'all be a jolly lot by helping this wee simp out of her depressed gacha dug hell hole and re-blog for a chance to have this penniless connoisseur come home to me pls

I'm desperate, truly.

Art, Imagine © Yours Truly (pls do credit me when you do re-blog or redistribute, otherwise don't bother)

Zhongli, Genshin Impact © miHoYo

[thelovelyghostwriter]

KuraNeon ABC Fluff Headcanons

uThis ABC is taken from this post. I was thinking, hey, what about KuraNeon? 

[Yessss... They have a special attack together on one of the mobile games - not the mobage cards by the way]

Let’s go!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Neon’s always bored, given that Kurapika is the one who is doing all the work. She’s often delighted to spend time with him, particularly shopping. She likes to shop for clothes, wearing cute outfits and asking him his opinion of it. She’s a tease and we know it. Sometimes she would purposely try on some racy outift for him to ogle at. 

For Kurapika, he doesn’t really have a particular favourite activity with her. He’s just happy to spend time with her. 

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

At first they weren’t very close. Kurapika only focused on her flesh-collecting hobby that he disagrees with and Neon finds his serious working attitude boring and she didn’t really care about him. Ironically, the traits that each of them has that the other doesn’t is what draws them to each other. 

After spending time together, Kurapika finds her eccentric view on her life interesting, even if he does not agree with them. He likes how she’s happy-go-lucky and just lives in the present, uncaring about what the future brings. Which is kinda ironic for someone who can predict the future. 

Neon, on the other hand, finds his stern and down-to-business attitude really amusing. She likes how genuinely concerned he gets in doing the job done and she likes it when he teaches her things that she doesn’t know about. She also catches the glimpse of him being playful, it’s so rare and she likes it when he relaxes once in a while. He’s also really sassy when he wants to and she likes bantering with him. 

For physical traits, Kurapika is in denial. She’s one of the few girls he interacted with and he finds her really adorable and pretty. He likes how she’s always wearing long sleeves and it all leads to a lot of imagination. Her eyes also drives him crazy because it holds so much naivety that he wants to stain. 

Neon finds Kurapika a pretty boy. She likes his soft blond locks and the red earrings that he wears. She thinks it looks good on him. If she knows that he is a Kurta, she loves those pretty eyes (especially when they’re having sex). The first time Neon sees Kurapika in a tuxedo, her gaze will linger because he looks bonafide yummy in it. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

I don’t know what panic attack is like so I will not address that. 

Kurapika is the type that tries to rationalize things (even though he’s impulsive as shit). So whenever Neon feels down, he will listen to her issues. He will try to understand her situation, analyse it and give her a few suggestions on what she can do. If it’s a problem that cannot be solved practically and she’s being confused/overwhelmed, he will comfort her by saying “it’s okay to feel this way”, he’ll tell her why she’s possibly feeling this way with scientific stuff and whatnot. He’ll find reasons to reassure her that it’s not the end of the world, and that he’ll always be there for her. 

For Neon, Kurapika’s issues are deep. Sometimes he won’t even tell it to her. She won’t press him for answers, but she’ll let him hold her. She’ll hug him when he needs comfort. She’ll give him soft kisses on his forehead. She’ll try to distract him from feeling down by getting him to do fun activities like playing chessboard games until he gets better. If he’s working too much, she’ll ensure that he takes breaks by either sleeping, going out with her or you know, the old-fashioned way to de-stress ;) 

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

For Neon, she’s not too concerned of the future. To her, it’s just... like that. She goes with the flow of the events and the growth of her connection with Kurapika just like a river. Whatever happens, happens. 

Haha, it reminds me of the lullaby my mom used to sing - Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que sera, sera.

For Kurapika, it’s bleak. This guy has always been a bag full of worry - which includes the future of his relationship with Neon. Initially, he did not plan to be in this sort of relation with Neon (his employer’s daughter, I might add). At first, he thought he’d marry her for practical reasons and earning her father’s trust, so that he can gain money in order to buy back some of his clan’s eyes. 

His relationship with her becomes something a little more than that. He hates himself for being “distracted” or even indulging in that sort of happiness when he’s supposed to be on a mission. As a Last Kurta, he has some sort of survivor’s guilt. He thinks that if he lives on and forgets about bringing justice to his clan, he is bringing disgrace to them. He thinks he doesn’t deserve to live happily. Especially with a flesh collector. He thinks that it’s his duty as the last survivor to collect their eyes and bring them the justice they deserve. 

Yet, he sticks around because this is the only thing that keeps him together and prevents him from sinking while trying to carry out this mission. He knows that one day, eventually, this relationship and his mission will become mutually exclusive, and he has to pick one of them. And that will be his mission. 

However, whenever he tries to look into the further future after his mission ends, he sees nothing. After his mission, he doesn’t see anything to live for. This goes back to his wishes and thinking if it’s possible to ever live for something else after this whole mission of his is over - which is to be in a relationship with Neon. 

It’s a paradox. His dilemma is indeed confusing and mentally straining. 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Neon is rather passive. She relies on him when it comes for down-to-Earth decisions and she just tags along (she doesn’t care about the boring financial stuff). Ever since Neon lost her ability, he’s the one earning money for them. (He’s kinda like her sugar daddy ahahahha). He loves to be in-charge anyway, given how quickly he got promoted from a mere employee, to a head bodyguard and finally the head of her family.  

She does influence him in certain decisions when she suggests it, or demands him what she wants. Depending on how reasonable her request/demands, he will either comply to make her happy or be firm with her by reasoning/compromising with her. Neon will sometimes just pout and agree with it hesitantly, other times she’ll throw a tantrum (and Kurapika has to deal with that, and maybe even “punish” her to discipline her KEKEKEK). 

So yes, Kurapika is the dominant one in the relationship because he does a good job in being the role of providing for his partner (and he’s the dom in the bedroom). 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

OMG. Neon has temper tantrums and impatient; and Kurapika’s worse - he’s stubborn and he has a very bad anger management. It’s like a volcano meeting a thunderstorm. 

When they fight, they fight big time. Sometimes it’s about Neon’s unreasonable demands/spoilt attitude, sometimes it’s Kurapika’s secretive behaviour or his neuroticism that leads to an argument. 

After the fight, both of them will be grumpy towards each other and Neon will refuse to talk to him, glaring at him. Kurapika will be too hard-headed to talk first. Eventually, both will kinda miss each other’s presence. They will forgive each other once they realise that the fight they had was not worth breaking up the relationship. 

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

They don’t usually express their gratitude explicitly. At first, they kinda just take it for granted and don’t really think too deeply about it. Especially for Neon, she’s the type of girl that likes luxury and she enjoys all the materialistic goods that Kurapika gives her. After a few months where it really gets serious, she thinks about all the things that Kurapika has done for her - protection, financial security and pretty much, everything for her. I have this headcanon where she does those tiny surprises for him on occasions (e.g. his birthdays) just to tell him how much she appreciates what he’s doing for her. 

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Neon is more open to him whenever he asks. Besides, she can’t really lie or keep secrets from him because he’s sharp. 

As for Kurapika, he’s rather secretive and even hid his ethnic identity to her. He doesn’t tell her things and it takes a while for him to open up. This can be a problem because once he admits to Neon, she is rather upset. She doesn’t like how her father lies to her all the time and will be very disappointed in Kurapika when she uncovers his motivations for being hired under her employment initially. 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think for both of them, they are both ends of the spectrum. So definitely, along the way, they will influence each other. 

Kurapika will teach Neon to be more mindful and caring of those around her. He will try to tell her why sympathising with the dead is as important as caring for the living (because baby girl just likes to make the living happy). 

For Kurapika, Neon will get him to at least live in the present and enjoy it, because this boy faces a lot of trauma in his past and constantly worries about the future. Neon will try to get him to relax from time to time, be happy with the ever-present. 

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Neon doesn’t really get jealous because Kurapika is very much focused on her. She knows these bitches aren’t even her competition. Even though he attracts attention as he is a pretty boy, he’s very cold towards them, which actually makes a lot of them disinterested. 

As for Kurapika... this man is extremely possessive. He didn’t like the fact that Chrollo talked to Neon that one time in the September auction, and he wanted to know every detail of what happened. Neon gets suitors from the mafia community and he makes sure none of them makes contact with her. He’s also paranoid as hell whenever she talks to a guy. Sometimes Neon finds it suffocating (they even fight about it at times), but she appreciates his overprotective nature and sometimes even teases him about it.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Their first kiss was rather awkward. Neon and Kurapika are still young. Neon was kinda heavily guarded so she didn’t have the opportunity to date a guy. She doesn’t seem like she’s interested either. The girl just minds her business and doesn’t seem to appreciate ingenuine attention from men. Kurapika is pretty focused on his mission for his clan so I doubt he dated either. So yes, when they first kissed, it was literally their first kiss. It was soft, short and sweet. And hella awkward because both of them weren’t sure what they were doing. 

They will get good at kissing as time passes by. They just have to keep practising by kissing each other HAHA. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

HAHA. I actually don’t see this couple saying “I love you” to one another - at least for Kurapika’s part. Neon is like 50-50. They pretty much just grow attached to each other over time and expressed their feelings by a kiss or something. 

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Fam. Let me tell you something real quick. Usually, for other pairings, it’s they become close friends, then date, then get married. This pairing is founded by a marriage theory. HAHAH. 

It’s a common KuraNeon headcanon where they have an arranged marriage due to some mafia business. At first it will be like any arranged marriage since it was for practical reasons. They go through the motions, play the role of a traditional husband and wife. Then they get it all mixed up with the emotions and then fall in love. They proceed to become a full-fledge consummated marriage relationship and have kids. 

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Kurapika isn’t really big on the nicknames. It’s more on how he goes from calling her “Boss”, to “Miss Neon” and eventually just her name as he got more comfortable with her. 

For Neon, she calls him Kurapika, most of the time. Only when they are in the bedroom, she calls him Daddy. She even puts his contact name on her phone as that. Kurapika was repulsed by it at first, but she was often a playful sub whenever she calls him that. It makes him feel powerful. HAHAHA. Kinky. 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Both of them can’t really define what love is, or understand what they’re feeling when it first hit them. It’s obvious for everyone - Linssen and the rest of Kurapika’s underlings. They know that their boss is in love with his wife and is sincere about their marriage. Neon just feels happier with his company and she did question it at one point, but decides that it’s for the best to continue and go with the flow. For Kurapika, when he realised that he’s suddenly happier, he’s scared. He’s not sure if he should be feeling happiness at all. He’s always afraid that the fiery wrath within him would die out. He wanted to remove that feeling. A man like him shouldn’t spare any time for love. But he stays anyway because it benefits him. 

Neon’s love language is gifts and spending time with someone. She sees gift-giving as something where someone spends the money (which is earned by the hours they spent working) as precious and flattering for her. She dislikes it when the gift is ingenuine. Kurapika knows this and gives her all sorts of things to impress her. Neon also gives back gifts whenever she can. When she shops, she started to shop not only for herself, but enjoys thinking about what she can buy for Kurapika. Kurapika is a busy man, so Neon is often excited whenever he takes off-days to do fun activities with her. 

For Kurapika, he’s more of an action guy than words. Aside from giving gifts for her, he shows his affections by doing what he thinks it’s best for both of them. This means protecting her from any harm and making sure they’re financially stable. 

Both of them also like to be physically intimate with one another to show their affections. 

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Kurapika is not very open about their relationship in public. Dude is too shy to do PDA. He thinks it’s none of anyone’s business when it comes to his relationship. Neon on the other hand, don’t really care what people think. She will hold his arm whenever they go out, and Kurapika will just let her. He blushes a little whenever she does peck kisses on him in public or in front of their employees. Linssen and the rest will just snigger and tease their Bosses, leaving Kurapika irritated. 

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Kurapika’s chains. Uhm, joke lmao. He can’t wrap her around his chains even if he wants to. They like to do bondage but they have to use clothes or some other type.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I’d say they are rather an unconventional couple, but their activities are that of a cliche couple. Kurapika is romantic in a sense that he takes her out to dinner, give her gifts and pretty much goes out with her to make her happy. Neon, of course, the ever-so indulgent brat that she is, likes to be pampered. They are okay with a routine-type of relationship, although once in a while, Neon adds in a surprise to make it interesting. 

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Neon doesn’t really have a goal. She’s more onto goods and her desires are often short-lived. Kurapika tries his best to support her in what she wants, given that they are reasonable. 

For Kurapika, his goal will always be vengeance and collecting the eyes of his brethren. His marriage to Neon supports that, even if she is unaware of it. Being the head of her family helps him get the power, influence and money to negotiate (and buy) his clan’s eyes. 

If Neon does find out about his goals, I think she’ll feel disoriented. She may have an inkling that he is marrying due to some motivations that are hidden; but she was unaware it was this drastic. She will be upset that he wasn’t fully honest, and may have mixed feelings collecting his clan’s eyes. She doesn’t care for dead people, but she does care about living humans and it’s important to Kurapika, who is alive. After a while, she will calm down. I don’t see her actively supporting him, maybe trying to use connections and her ways as a flesh collector to help him find the Scarlet Eye sets. As for the Spiders part, I think she’ll be more of a foil to that so I think she’ll just let him do whatever he’s supposed to do. 

As for believing in him, Neon knows that he’s intelligent and he’s one of the bodyguards that are still alive. She had her fair share of bodyguards who just drop dead like flies, so she assumes Kurapika must be strong enough to still be alive and kicking. She is also aware that he has his ways of influencing people, given that her father believes in him. Therefore, she believes in him too. She also acknowledges that Kurapika saved their asses from being broke, when her father was freaking out. So definitely, she knows that he is very capable of running their organisation. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I think I already answered this in the “R” for “Romance”. 

But if I may add an NSFW... 

Well, certainly they do have their own fixed of kinks ahhaha. They start out as being kinda vanilla and just make out, then have some good ol’ missionary sex. And then, Neon, being a mischievous girl that she is, seeks out to try new things. She starts out by calling him “Daddy” and being very bratty/teasing... just to let out his inner dom in the bedroom. She also prompts him to do bondage on her because well, the chains he wears gives them ideas HAHA. Neon will just act like the total brat that needs to be subdued and disciplined; and Kurapika will follow. He likes to be in control; and he finds all sorts of ways to tame his bratty wife sexually. Kurapika is deep down kinky but he doesn’t admit it; and Neon nudges him towards that direction and everything just flows. 

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Okay. So... this is one of the main issues with their relationship. But this is what, I believe, makes it so interesting yet difficult to write a slowburn canon-compliant fiction of them. 

Neon doesn’t understand him well because she mostly minds her business and is more self-centred. And the way she empathise with people is different from how Kurapika expects her to be. Canonically, they are the polar opposite. Neon (and Light Nostrade) acted as a foil in the YorkNew City. Neon values the life of the living, breathing people; and not giving two cents about the people that had died. Kurapika, on the other hand, mourns for his dead clan. 

At first, Kurapika wanted to change the way she thinks - which is, of course, it kinda fails. Her hobby is in direct conflict of his beliefs. 

While canonically, he straightaway knew her situation (that conversation he had with Basho explaining that it was the father that is using the daughter, not the other way round), it was not indicated if he sympathises with her. He was just very task-focused to impress Light Nostrade and gain his trust, which is to protect his daughter.  

It definitely took a while for him to know her aside from being a “flesh collector” and the “bratty girl”. Maybe he got to know her more as a person, who is not so far from his age. 

As for Neon, I imagine her whining about Kurapika’s strict behaviour as a bodyguard, and finding him a bit boring to converse with due to his serious attitude while working. 

This couple really needs a LOT of patience with one another and time for them to bond. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

I think I had already addressed this in the “D - Dreams” section. 

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Neon and Kurapika initially never considered having kids, until Kurapika knocked her up and they have their first son. They named their first son Pairo. They have like, 3 to 5 subsequent kids, depending on how many kids you want them to go for. No matter how many girls and boys they have, all of them have Scarlet Eyes. 

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Oh yes. They do enjoy kissing and cuddling. And sex. But yeah, they don’t usually do PDA because Kurapika is rather shy about that. But behind closed doors? They’re doing more than kisses and cuddling - if you know what I mean. 

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

They will be upset. They will try to get themselves busy. For Neon, she will shop and play card games with her fellow attendants to get her mind off of him. She will wonder how he’s been, send him text messages and nudes while at work and complain about how much of a workaholic this guy is. 

For Kurapika, usually he’s the one away for either a business trip or on his way across the world to obtain another set of the Scarlet Eyes. He will think about her, it irritates him because missing her distracts him from the task at hand and he can’t help it. He’ll call her at some points of the day to just hear her voice and ask her well-being, to check whether everything in the mansion is fine or not. 

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Kurapika is persuasive in getting what he wants. That includes doing all sorts of tricks and nefarious ways to protect their relationship. As for Neon, if someone is blocking them, she will try to eliminate it by making demands and throw tantrums. 

However, they won’t admit it. They will find some excuse to jusify their behaviour, which often fails. 

Also, special thanks to @anotherworldash for helping me with Y and Z.

[willowistic22]

The Escape (Jack and Race)

Race had been taken to the refuge and Jack can’t stop worrying about him. He hasn’t formed an escape plan yet but he still had to make sure he’s okay till a plan forms. But in a twist of events, the awaiting escape plan no longer serves a purpose because Race had broken himself free from the hellhole. 

Words : 3826

Part : -

Warnings : Violence, abuse, child abuse (the refuge), blood, bruises, scars, injuries, nightmares, caps, angst (boy that’s heavy uhh-) 

A/N : aaand we’re back! abt damn time i know i’m sorry. but this one here is special because it’s my gift for @deliciouspeachpirate for the @newsiesgiftexchange filmiversarry yay!! I apologize for being a few days late so I trully hope you enjoy this one. The warnings are pretty heavy ngl, but hey you requested ‘coming back from the refuge’ and this was the only idea that popped out. hehehehe n ee wayyssssss enjoy and have a happy filmiversary buddy!! 

The worrying will never stop. As much as the others had told him it was a bad idea, he had to see him. Maybe if Jack had checked up on his friend, he wouldn’t blame himself all that much. Or maybe it’d make the blame game even worse. Either way, Jack had to make sure he’s okay. He had known Race the longest. And because of that, he feels like he owes him this. 

The refuge is a pretty terrifying place to be. Sometimes it still haunts Jack in the most cruel way possible. Being back here still makes his skin crawl. His heart can be heard thumping faster in his ears. His hands tremble a little more than usual when the cold night breeze makes contact with his skin. He’d think that his fears over this hellhole would fade away after being here multiple times. Either it being because Snyder caught him or he’s there to see one of his newsies while trying to come up with an escape plan. 

The building feels like a skyscraper because of how small the four story building makes him. There were memories where it wasn’t the building that made him feel small, but the monsters behind them. Regardless, he pushes his fears away for the time being and makes his way towards his usual path he uses to sneak in the building. He scales the wall on the side of the building utilizing the different objects around him. 

He sees the little window he usually uses to look in just ahead. He just needs a few more steps to reach it and- wait. 

A loud fragile sound made Jack duck low, thinking that he might’ve been seen. However, the window he’s trying to reach is slowly turning into glass shards. Jack waits it out but observes the movements from the darkness. He did not plan on seeing an escape plan going in motion. 

A leg started to weakly kick down the metal bars covering the window that was previously there. The sound of the metal bars whining to break free filled the silent void of the night. Jack worried it might alert the guards and the kid might get caught. 

First kick, a little movement. 

Second kick, it started to lose its grip on the wall. 

The third kick is what got it to fully break free. 

Jack smiles seeing their success. His thoughts wandered to the possibilities of maybe utilizing that escape hole to break Race out right now. Well, his thoughts were soon diminished when he saw the kid that kicked down the bars slipped out through the hole. It was Race. 

He wasn’t thinking all that much the moment he recognized the tall and lanky figure. Jack’s mind went straight to catching his attention, “Race!” 

It made the other boy flinch. He snaps his head towards the source of the sound with his usual pearly white face going pale. His body frame pulses along with his heavy breathing a little too dramatic for Jack’s liking. 

But upon realizing it was a trusted friend, Race scrambles over towards Jack. His tone breathless from all that heavy breathing, “Jack!” 

Jack lets Race crash into him. His head curling into the crook of his neck and letting his bright blond curls nestle right in place. But it’s not as soft as Jack was familiar with. Actually, nothing about Racetrack is familiar now. His torso had always been lanky but Jack knows it had muscles packed into it. His hands are wrapping Race’s body in the hug and he can feel that his body has gotten a little smaller than the last time they met. He even notices the tears and rips all over his clothes. Some are also exposed to red liquid which Jack could only assume had to be blood. 

Jack pulls away from the hug, wanting to investigate even further. He holds Race’s shoulder as far as arm’s length for a better look. There were scars, bruises, blood drips. The corner of his eyes were a little red. The blue sky he kept in his iris was in a different shade of blue. It wasn’t cheerful or friendly. It was locked away from seeing the adventures he and his friends would have after selling papes. In the span of two weeks, it has seen every form of cruelty in the world. Jack could tell it still stuck pretty close to him when he took note of the tear streaks on his cheeks. 

“Oh, Race” Jack frowned at his friend, “What did they do to you?” 

Race couldn’t answer. His voice was caught by his tongue that was begging to cry his heart out. Jack knows he can’t contain his emotions any longer. If the dam broke, the whole refuge might know an escape was in motion right now. 

He ushers the boy down from the height they were from. Race’s hand, weak and frail, is slinged over Jack’s shoulders for extra support. Jack would carry him but he’s far too heavy. So he lets Race lean his weight on him. Jack would prefer them to be going a little faster since they’re still walking out in the open, but he can’t make Race limp any faster than what he’s already doing. 

“I can’t believe you broke out on your own, Race” Jack exclaimed under his breath. They’ve reached the first alleyway in their journey for cover. Now both of them are breathing heavily. But Jack is more concerned over Race’s heavy breathing because it hasn’t stopped since the moment they saw each other. 

“Heh… Well... You know me…” Race voiced between heavy breaths, making it sound like it’s no big deal. 

“Save your strength, Higgins. We still got a long way to go” Jack stopped him from talking any further. 

They continue on their journey through the streets and towards the lodge. They utilize the minimal lighting at this hour of the night to their advantage. Avoiding bulls and other sorts of big crowds by ducking low near the shadows and dirty alleyways. Race had mostly used Jack to stand up straight but every so often he kept toppling over. So Jack’s brain formed a plan to keep close to walls so Race can also lean on them when he feels he’s losing his balance. 

“Kelly…” 

“What is it, Race?” Jack instantly replied. He felt his heart breaking when he mostly heard exhausted air in Race’s tone. It’s not his usual loud and nasally voice. It didn’t ring loud throughout the room like the times when he celebrated his victory in winning card games at the lodge against the others. Or in the same way he’d announce the headlines to strangers on the street. 

“...Am tired” Race said. 

“I know you are but-” Jack started as he tried to readjust his grip on Race, “-You gotta stay awake, aight? You gotta help me help you back to the lodge” 

The other end of the alleyway they’re in right now is only a few feet away from them. But the more they walk, the slower Race’s steps are. Jack can see the bloody and trembling feet trying its hardest to keep up. Race is basically being carried by Jack at this point, despite their efforts on trying to keep this a team effort. 

“Jack…” Race called out again. He takes one last step forward before collapsing towards the nearest wall. 

“Woah, woah, Race!” Jack tried his best to catch him but failed miserably when he ended up tumbling over along with the boy. 

Jack frantically gets himself away from the boy to avoid harming him any further. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he did any damage. But it doesn’t change the fact that Race’s legs had given up on him. His back is against the wall, a bit toppling over to the side from the fatigue. He takes deep and tiring breaths which causes his chest to pulse up and down slowly. 

“Hey, c’mon, Race! Ya can’t give up now!” Jack tried to get his eyes to open, straightening the boy’s dirty cheeks as gentle as he can. 

“One… minute… please…” Race said in between breaths. He nestles his head in Jack’s hands. His face is cold and weak against Jack’s skin. It’s beyond terrifying to see him like this. 

Jack can’t do anything at this point other than to obey what Race wants. Jack has a feeling the refuge guards are already out there looking for Race so maybe it is better to rest for a few minutes. With their kind of walking pace, they’re bound to get caught. Though every so often Jack shakes Race’s face when his eyes have been closed for a bit too long. He doesn’t wanna risk letting it close for too long to the point that it won’t open again. 

Slowly, Race gets a hold of his breathing. He relaxes into his resting position with one big sigh. The gap between his two eyelids are very small, but as long as Jack can see it then he’s fine. Jack still thinks they need to get out of here as soon as possible. The alleyway can’t provide them cover for this long and the refuge guards won’t leave no stone unturned. 

“Okay, times up” Jack exclaimed, putting Race’s hand around his shoulders. It’s still weak and cold against Jack so he’s praying that it’ll be strong enough to hold onto Jack as they continue to walk, “Let's get you home, Race” 

Jack helps the boy stand up again, one trembling feet after the other. Jack puts an arm around Race’s waist for extra support before taking the first step. But Race’s feet missed the ground and slipped on his own. He came crashing to the little muddy puddle on the ground. 

“Please, don’t give up, Race” Jack begged as he kneels down to get him again. 

Race was still breathing but he couldn’t respond any more than muffled noises. Jack tries the same technique to get him up again, but it’s no use seeing that Race’s limbs just slides out of his grip. 

“No, no, Race, please!” Jack pleaded while gripping on his hand. The volume was a bit too loud for his liking but at this point he doesn’t care anymore. He just wants Race to get up. 

Bam! 

A door on the other side of the alley wall opened. It made Jack flinch towards the source of the sound. His hands reflexively trying to cover a weak Racetrack but still balled into a fist in case he needs to fight. But the boy’s fingers loosen up the moment he fully realizes who opened the door up. 

“Jack?” The lady in the doorway spoke. It was followed by loud music coming from the building, but it was clear enough that Jack could tell who it belonged to. 

“Ruby!” He called out. 

It was one of the Bowery Beauties that Jack had befriended while hanging around Medda’s theatre. From the looks of the building she had existed, it appears that Race and Jack had made it to the theatre. Jack was too focused on getting Race home to take a minute to examine his surroundings. But that’s not the priority now. The priority is finding a place to lay low because it’s obvious that Race is in no condition to walk back to the lodge. 

Ruby became the second set of hands to help Jack get Race to safety, which is inside the theatre. She’s not in her usual purple, pink, and feathery costume, which means she doesn’t have a performance tonight. She has time to help out. 

They make quick work entering the building. Some backstage crew stopped and stared at the trio making their way across the floor. It’s not every day they get bloody young guests like them. 

They find a secluded area of the theatre. An old couch left to dust alone will do just fine for Race. Ruby lays his head on the cushions cautiously to avoid breaking his fragility. Jack puts his legs up on the couch and proceeds to make him as comfortable as he can get on the small couch. 

“Jack? What’re you do— OH MY GOODNESS!” A different voice shrieked. It was probably loud enough for some people in the audience to hear it, but that’s unimportant. Jack turns his head to see Ms. Medda standing in her usual pink costume to perform. 

“Hey, Ms. Medda” Race said weakly with a small smile. 

Jack stands there for a few seconds, frozen from the surprise encounter before he could reply to her, “He got out of the refuge like this!” 

“Ruby, get the medical supplies in my dressing room!” Medda said as he approached the frail boy on the couch while Ruby quickly made her way towards the dressing room. 

“Don’t worry… I’se been through worse…” Race tried to play it off like a joke. But neither Jack or Medda thought it was funny. 

Medda and Ruby couldn’t stay to help because Medda’s cue was in five minutes and Ruby had to help out the other Bowery Beauties that are on for tonight get ready. Jack doesn’t mind because he can patch his friend up by himself. 

Carefully, he helps Race unbutton his shirt and roll his pants up. Jack then starts by cleaning the bruises, cuts, and whatnot with a piece of cloth soaked in some water. It wasn’t that cold, yet Race still shivers against the touch when it makes contact with his skin. Some were even painful enough to cause him to flinch. But it slowly became bearable as Jack continued. 

“I can’t believe ya broke outta there on your own, Race” Jack said after a long period of silence. The vacancy was mostly filled with the noises coming from the front stage, the cheering audience, noises behind the stage, or Race’s yelp of pain when Jack accidentally dabbed the cloth on the wrong spot. 

“Why’d you do it?” Jack asked, putting the wet cloth down. It was now full of red stains soaked in water. 

Race stayed silent for a few minutes. Jack guesses he needs time to let the feeling from the newly washed damaged skin settle on him because it’s obvious he’s trying to concentrate to breathe. In the end he cracked a smile on his face and replied, “Got bored… thought I’d get some fresh air” 

That doesn't sound convincing in Jack’s book. He knows how Race jokes and that doesn’t sound like a joke. Jack squints his eyes to examine his expression even further for one good minute. From his smile, to his eyes, and even down to his soul, he can see the lie. But there was something in between that tells him not to make a fuss about it for the time being. 

For the time being, Jack listens to it and just nods at the answer. He diverts his focus towards the bandages he’s gonna use to cover up some of the damage that has been done on his friend. Race surprisingly didn’t squeak in pain the whole way through. Whether it was because Jack’s hand had adapted to the kind of delicacy needed for Race’s situation or because the pain was now bearable enough, Jack was just glad to hear no noise that indicates he’s in pain. Though he makes it his mental priority to check up on him later. 

- 

The two boys didn’t plan on staying for long. They still need to journey back to the lodge. But it got pretty late at night and even Jack didn’t argue with Medda about staying for the night. After the last show of the night ended, most of the lights had gone out yet there were still plenty of people doing some work around the theatre at this hour. The absence of the audience made the theatre lose its life. Jack finds it a little terrifying but he guesses that’s just the magic of theatre. 

It got him to stay wide awake. He knows he’ll regret it later in the morning but he cannot get his mind to settle in this new sleeping environment. Jack is sitting upright on the wooden floor next to the couch Race uses. He seems to be relishing in the sleep. 

Poor kid, probably didn’t sleep in the refuge. Jack thought to himself as he observed the sleeping Race for a few seconds. At least one of us is sleeping. 

Jack decides to grab a random paper and pencil nearby and do some light sketches to wait till he gets sleepy. This technique worked back at the lodge so it should work right now. The drawing starts with random shapes that make no sense. He’ll figure out what it is as he keeps going. 

A Rustling noise caught his attention. He flinches his head up from his drawing towards the sound. He still sees a sleeping Race on the couch. But he’s not peaceful. Race starts flinching and rolling around in his sleep. Mumbles of words laced with fear escape his mouth in between his breathing that’s slowly getting deeper and quicker. 

Jack puts the paper and pencil down before going over to where Race is. He curiously observes the scared boy before him, cowering into himself from whatever sight he sees in his dreams. He gently shakes Race awake while whispering, “Racer? Racer? Racer, wake up!” 

He startles awake with a loud gasp for air, slightly sitting himself up. Jack takes a step back to give the boy some space. His chest pulses up and down in a state of panic. Blue eyes dart all over the dark scenery. But he calms down once he turns to the side to see a friend sitting by his side. 

“Easy there, Race” Jack said, approaching the boy once again, “Everything okay?” 

Race freezes at that question for a second before answering, “Yeah... yeah, I’m good” 

Jack squints his eyes at his unbelievable words and tilts his head to the side. But he says nothing about it, telling himself that it’s probably not the best time to question him about it. 

“Alright…” Jack said. He proceeds to lie down on the floor as if to return to his previous slumber state again, “...let’s head back to bed” 

Race says nothing to that other than a nod. He gets himself comfortable again, but still keeps an eye on his injuries. He shuts his eyes completely again with a slower breathing pace. Jack pretends to sleep to keep an eye on Race. 

Just as he suspects it, he isn’t back to sleeping. Race flips from sleeping on one side to the other. Jack can even see his eyes flickering open every so often, like he’s afraid to close his eyes again. 

“Race?” Jack voiced out again, “Are you sure everythin’s okay?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine” Race replied, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Jack frowns at the lies. Even in the dark, Race can definitely see the frown. He answers that expression with an annoyed look. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it now, but Jack can’t let it slide that quick when it’s obvious he’s bothered by something. 

From the distance, the two boys hear captivating vocals coming from the front stage. It caught their attention away from their wordless conversation. They turn their heads towards it. They see that one of the stage entrances is still bright from a light source coming from the front stage. It just so happens that the source of the singing is also coming from that direction. Jack recognizes the voice to belong to Ms. Medda. He guesses that she’s doing a late night practice. 

Which gives him an idea. 

“Hey, wanna see Medda sing for a bit?” Jack suggested to Race. 

The other boy didn't respond for some time but ended up nodding to the suggestion. Jack proceeds to help him up on his feet again. With the pain all over his body, Race carefully limps along with Jack. 

As they emerge to the stage, they see the beautiful sight that is Ms. Medda trying out a new tune while being accompanied with some soft piano. There’s only a few lights on, but it’s enough to make the singer shine like a diamond. The two boys stare in awe as they take a seat on the edge of the theatre. 

The first short seconds of watching her brought peace to Race. Jack could see a smile forming on his face in the corner of his eyes. The eyes that were previously filled with fear had faded away and were replaced with awe. He isn’t surprised. Medda never fails to cheer anyone up. 

The tranquility settles onto Race like it’s always meant to be there. He puts his head on Jack’s shoulder with a loud sigh. Jack only chuckles at the sight of his plan working. They’d definitely regret losing the sleep in the morning, but right now there were no such things as regrets. 

“I couldn’t take it anymore” suddenly Race said. At this point, they’ve been watching Ms. Medda for a while now. Jack isn’t sure what coaxed him into talking nor does he know what he’s talking about, however he might have an idea. 

Jack only turned his head towards the boy. Race took it as a cue to elaborate even further. 

“Back in the refuge. It was… different than the last time I was there” Race said, eyes locked towards his bruised fingers tracing lines on the floorboard of the wooden stage. 

“How different?” Jack hesitated in voicing his question. 

“There were more guards. Stricter rules. Way more kids” Race explained. He lifted his eyes to meet Jack’s. Jack can tell there’s the fearful memories flashing before him in his brain, “Little kids, Jack! Some of them were smaller than eight!”

“And the guards were more ruthless than before” Race continued, “They punched a kid for walking too slow. And that was because they haven’t slept properly for so long” 

Jack puts a hand around the boy’s shoulder. It got Race to lean further towards Jack, soaking up the warmth he craves. 

“I got out because I couldn’t take it anymore” Race admitted, “It was… scary and… cold a-and just…” 

When the voice started breaking, Jack held the boy tighter, “Sshh, it’s okay. You’re here now” 

“I know, but those other kids…” Race continues, “I saw them in my sleep a-“ 

His next words were stuck in the tight of his throat. Race pulls his knees up and curls into himself as the tears he was previously holding back starts to stream down his face. His breathing gets mixed up with his cry. 

Jack leans in closer to hug his friend. He rubs circle on the boy’s back as he sobs his fears out quietly. The mini performance before them has been long forgotten by the two boys. 

“You’re okay. You’re home” Jack whispered, “We won’t let them get to ya” 

[kaetastic]

Mafia Aside

pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

summary: Despite being part of the criminalizing life in the mafia, Luca Changretta needs the surprise birthday for his girl to be perfect. Needs- all letters capitalized. [requested: @imaginesbymk]

word count: 3.2k

warning: halted smut, fluff, slight angst? angory luca

note: thank you so much @imaginesbymk for this request!! I hope this is alright! I felt like Luca was OOC though 🥺🥺

Luca’s eyes fluttered open from the rather merciless jab of the morning light. It was an unfair battle of swerving swords as he had just charged up his engine. A sigh brushed his lips when his back muscles sprinkled happiness at the finally fulfilling sleep which he had been promised at the end of the week. Six days of enduring work when you don’t want to; six days of sleep, if all hours of slumbering had been added up, would be equal to a day of working. To summarize it all up, Luca had been the dangling bait teasing himself over the warmth of his bed.

Now that it was finally the weekend he had been longing for for far too long, he couldn’t help but smear the aching muscles with the good news. The good realization which almost sounded fake. Almost as if it was a too-good-to-be-true sort of dream. However, with a pile of evidence and the remembrance of the promised day, every single tendon in his body melted into the warm bed. The warm bed he had his overnight breath plastered all over.

“Mhm.” The woman who had been hogging his body into hers hummed, annoyed at his excessive movements. She knew he was beginning to stir up; she hated it. Time was sure to be purchased for them to rest in bed. Y/N wasn’t surprised he had woken up at such an early hour in the weekend, it had been the same time he would get up of bed for work. The torturous hours of work had implemented the time to wake up in his head.

Luca groaned, his left side sore and numb, sleeping from the weight that had rested on his arm overnight. Pulling his arm away to feel shivers crawl up his skin from the lack of response, his numbness was overlapped by Y/N’s irritated sigh. With a huff she flipped to her other side, her back facing him, “Go back to sleep.”

The words fell off her lips in an exhausting trail, a string as evidence of spending a whole day at her future mother-in-law’s home to learn Luca’s favourite meals. While Luca busied himself with work, there was barely anything to do at home when he was away. Sure, Y/N could sweep some dust that reverts to its original home despite her relentless wiping; don’t even mention the number of times she had organized and reorganized the fridge. Her daily routine was so monotonous. It was dull and grey when she’s stuck in the walls of the home alone. That was until Luca would come back.

“I’m wide awake now.” He chided, pushing his body up to the headboard of the bed, eyes never leaving her resting body. Y/N groaned. It should’ve been a day of resting and possibly, a lot of cuddling in bed. His warmth was always there for her when her eyes were shut tight. Lately, work had been the blade grazing his back. In other words, it had been a pain in the ass. The corners of his lips crept up as she now faced him, eyes still glued shut. 

“Just close your eyes.” Although her lips were mumbling the words, each syllable lingered in the air for less than second, Luca managed to make of what she said. The Italian chuckled, his fingers brushing her hair. 

“How can I? It’s morning.” Finally snapping her eyes open, she beamed at the man who wore his signature smirk. The infamous quirk of his lips. Rolling her eyes at the obvious observation, she shifted closer to the radiating heat of his bare chest. As her nose caressed his pillow, the scent of him warming up her lungs, she snuggled into the smell. The smell that would only plaster against the side of his bed with a diluted tone after he had left to do work.

“Thank you for informing me, Mr Changretta for I would be lost without your great insights.” He chuckled, head shaking as his fingers hovered over the jar of matchsticks on his bedside table (something Y/N had pestered over years). With the wooden stick pressed against his bottom lip, he nudged it with his tongue. The redhead of the match rolled from left to right.

“What do you want for breakfast? I’ll cook.” 

Y/N quirked her eyebrows, “Oh, are you the chef for today, Mr Changretta?” Luca said nothing, the curled corners of his lips speaking for him. “Quit talking ‘bout breakfast. From now on, everything that requires going out of bed and is related to morning activities, are banned. We are cuddling.” 

His string of laughter quivered through her draped arm that rested on his bare chest, sparking tingles of his husky voice. The woman didn’t bother to meet his eyes as her lungs were warmed of the addicting scent of him, “Cuddling is part of our morning activities.”

The Italian’s eyes didn’t quiver from her intense gaze as she pushed herself up to straddle his hips, her knees pooled into the mattress of their bed, “We haven’t cuddled this whole week,” Luca had to ponder for a second if what she stated was true. Despite his squeaking gears on replaying every day of the previous week, he was curious to how she could remember so. “There are other stuff we can do that remains in our... regulations.”

“Your regulations,” Luca chided, his matchstick pointed at her direction. “What do you have in mind?”

There was a glint in his eyes. The glint that Y/N had been so familiar with. The glint she had missed ever since Luca had wrapped his body around sheets of work. Tilting her head in lost of thoughts, she hummed while his hands were splayed against her thighs, “Not sure, it might take up the whole day...”

Every muscle in Luca’s body was pulled taut, dipped in frozen ice. Y/N didn’t notice. She didn’t pick up the way his chest went rigid, his chest barely moving a centimetre to respire, her focus heavily placed onto his reaction. As her fingers danced on his bare chest, thumb grazing over his recovering scars, Luca’s head stung of rapid thoughts. And that was when her body went flying back to her side of the bed. Scrambling to stand in the middle of the room, chest out in the open with a loose trouser around his hips, the Italian’s mouth parted. Mouth left wide open, she watched as he scurried to find the right words, “I have some... work to do.” 

Luca nodded at his own words as if he was convincing himself to the new plan, liking the idea. Leaving Y/N all alone in their bed.

“What the fucking shit is this?” The Italian spat out. Well, the words and the saliva-covered crumbs of the cake that left an unpleasant aftertaste. The ceramic plate slammed into the wooden table, singing an echoing song before it was met with a splat from the fallen sample of the cake that was to be the birthday cake for his girl. How could such a shitty flavour be the cake for his girl? Everybody would choke and die if he was to accept the third sample he had tried for the day. The third sample. What a joke. 

The first two was no different. It would just take a caress of his tongue against the crevices of his teeth to find the remaining residues of the previous samples. A man whose familiar with the taste of lingering iron would have a loaded gun in his hand. There was no way Luca would bring a cake that tasted like iron for a birthday party. A surprise birthday party at that one. The Italian hoped it remained unknown for he knew how some of his sisters could get a bit... mouthy. 

The man who owned the bakery quivered in fear, hoping the warmness that streamed in his pants was not what he thought it was. Although his sister, Rosa, had assured him that the bakery had made countless unforgettable cakes for her and her love for throwing parties, Luca could not find a sole point that would match to his sister’s descriptions and her high set experience with the bakery. Or, maybe it was due to the fact that Luca had only wanted the best of the best. Usually, it wouldn’t be that hard to find the best firearm that suited him. But cakes? He had to pour a gallon of patience to hold himself back from storming out. Should’ve just asked mamma to make the cake.

“It’s pineapple cake, straight from Hawaii, sir-” Luca grunted out, shutting up the stuttering man. Fingers pressed into his temples, the Italian attempted at the silly advice of counting down, given by his youngest sister who had claimed Luca had wavering moments of temper. It worked. 

“You know what? I’m not spending another hour shoving your cakes down my throat. I’ll take the chocolate, two layers, and put some fucking decorations on it, like sprinkles or some shit. Looks bland, whose funeral are we going to?” No one spoke up. Who would? This was the man who had strutted up and down the streets with his infamous patted suits. 

“Luca,” Matteo called out, scurrying after his boss who had just splat a wad of cash. Why does it sometimes feel like he’s always chasing after a little boy who had just thrown a tantrum? “Where are we going now?”

“The party hall.”

“What does it take for you people to fucking get my words through your heads?” The running veins along his neck bulged, grazing to the surface of the air in pulses. Today must be a joke. Everything had tested him. It was as if someone was playing a game to see how short of a temper he has. Occasionally, he would be composed; he wasn’t one to spring to the bullet, head-first. Planning events was not rolling of dices. 

Bodies quivered, shivering at his scolding as if a flock of wind had engulfed the warmth they once sheltered in. Luca had been mistaken as a cold man multiple times. It wasn’t hard for a stranger to take a glance at his posture and his gait, to not portray him as the wolf stalking through their buildings. That was what he was. If only they had done it right, they wouldn’t have to face the consequences. The line of men who had been assigned to the arrangement of the tables were abruptly yanked to stop their last-minute adjustments. To only be scolded as if children. Despite the growing orb of seething anger they had for being the stock of embarrassment in the room, they couldn’t do anything. So, they directed to a more acceptable choice, swallowing the fury down into an abyss, a void. Because who was mental enough to oppose what the powerful man said?

“Put that fucking table there, and move those three back.” With his fingers as the direction informant, the string of men dispersed without any mumbling. Not even one had slipped under their breath as the risk had been too high. The room had fallen into a defeaned silence, present eyes were stuck on those who had been responsible for the arrangement of the tables. However, with a quick glance from even his known bodyguard, Matteo, there were no longer on-lookers for they had resumed with their work. 

Just four more days before it was the big day. A sigh of relief, mixed in with gratitude and joy fell from his lips, “Finally. See? It is better now.”

The intense whirlwind that had descended down from the ceiling had evaporated, vanishing into thin air. The heavyweight sitting on their shoulders were no more as sunshine glittered through the windows which had been protected with velvet curtains on the sides. They could even hear birds singing a song. A victory of a battle song. Except, the smiles on their faces had been wiped off when the man demanded, “Pass me the liquours we’re serving.” 

Oh lord. Matteo felt as if his job was no different to clinging onto the clanking chains of a wild dog. The splatter of the whiskey he had allowed to smear a small area of his tongue was gushed back into the cup. His bewildered eyes and his furrowed eyebrows had been enough to scare the man who brought a sample of the whiskey, “Did you scoop up sewer water?” The terrified man shook his head, lips shut tight. “We fucking distribute alcohols and you got yourself the shittiest one.”

With a quirk of his eyebrows, the man scurried to the kitchen for another bottle. It was indeed going to be a long day. 

“Did none of you write down what I said?” Luca’s eyes blared onto his accompanying men. All they could do was swing their jaw, eyes never meeting the man who had directed his anger towards them. Except for Matteo and Frederico. It seemed it was always them who had the courage to do so. Maybe it was because they had been used to the Italian, and his... personality. “Carlo, is there something missing?”

The brunette who held his fedora to his chest craned up his neck, young eyes landing dead-centre of Luca’s electrifying gaze, “The balloons and flowers?” 

“Good, and where are they?”

“Luca, we still have four days.” Matteo spoke up when he noticed the man who was about to be Luca’s punching bag could not find the answer in his head.

Hair prickling like a dagger, it grazed Luca’s forehead as he reverted his focus towards his henchman, “I’ve been planning this shit for months. We have four days left? Everything should’ve been ready by now.” Fingers digging into the lapels of Matteo’s suit, Luca stared down, his figure towering prominently. There was a glint that sparked a bonfire in his eyes. 

“Antonio, go with Carlo to check up on the balloons. Make sure there are two and a half dozen. You better fucking count each and every one.”

Antonio, followed by Carlo scurried out. The roaring noise of an engine faded into the distance. Luca cleared his throat, “Great. Let’s check up on the flowers.”

“Luca! Could you just shut up? Your presence is not needed.” Elena huffed out, the muscles in her arm urging for her to grab the nearest sharpest tool to remind her oldest brother he was as annoying as a screeching seagull. Her gaze craned down from his shadowy figure to the flowers in her hands. The task of flowers was given to Elena, the middle child of five, just three years younger than Angel. Luca glared at the bundle of mess.

“It clearly is. What are you doing with pink and blue?” Defeated, she leaned her back into her chair, her lazy eyes (not from her hard-working efforts but from the fact that her brother had ruined her mood) followed his fingers as he brought a pink and peach coloured flowers into a pairing. “See? So much appealing to my eyes.

Knowing her brother with his stubborn character trait, she could only roll her eyes and followed the man’s instruction. Luca stalked towards the balcony, the purple sky caressing his skin. Everything was going to plan.

“Where are we heading off to?” It might’ve been the hundredth time she had asked the driver, but it didn’t hurt to inquire. Maybe it had been for Matteo’s ears which had been throbbing with agonizing pain from the clueless passenger. Questions floated in his head: why had he been the one to be assigned to driving her to the party- surprise party? “Are we getting closer?”

His grip around the driver’s wheel tightened, the uncut nails dug deep into the polished wood. Matteo snapped his neck, a deathly noise popped into the air. It answered Y/N’s question. Even though all he wanted to do was scream for her to remain quiet, he had to remind himself that this was Luca’s girl. He would not come out alive at the end of the day if the Italian finds out about the mistreatment. The echoing voice in his head that called out the nearing to the party hall, Matteo wanted nothing but to halt the car. He feared he would swerve into a tree that would end the torturous journey. Just round this corner.

Matteo had been slightly difficult to get closer to, despite the counting years of Luca’s and Y/N’s relationship. Befriending Frederico was simple, sure, the man had been collected and quiet, but it was more tolerable than the hot-headed Matteo.

Y/N’s lips parted open to let out another question, but the screeching of the tires cut her short, “Here we are.” The driver didn’t even bother to crane his neck as she got out of the vehicle.

Y/N knew that she and Matteo had not exactly passed acquaintance. But, she did not expect him to zoom down the street, leaving her alone. She watched as the vehicle fade into a faint fog, her eyes blinking at what had just happened. Averting her gaze to the building he had dropped her off at, she couldn’t help but gulp. Associating herself with the mafia had meant a whole list of issues that could place a potential problem. Some normal things she could’ve done as a normal citizen were cut off, all for her safety. Well, that’s what Luca would say. 

The corners of her lips curled down at the mention of the Italian. Even though he had promised her, assured every second he could- saying that he had planned something for her birthday, the distance between the two on the special day had only allowed her head to gush of overreacting thoughts. Y/N had tried her best to convince herself that Luca might’ve just been busy with work, while she had stumbled upon his other men enjoying their times in pubs. No matter her efforts in opposing the consuming thought, there was just evidence that something might’ve happened between the couple. She had even run her mind whenever she had occupied herself with work to think of what she could’ve possibly done to push him away. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? But, nothing. 

When she had returned home from a leisure walk in the park, although, it was quite stressful for Y/N as she knew she had been sauntering on the green path with at least (to what she could see) three familiar men- Luca’s men, she laid her eyes on the box with a silk ribbon tying it, a note encased under the small bow. Wear this. Matteo will honk at seven. 

Shoving down the idea of a trap, Y/N managed to grab all her courage and barge through the doors, “Surprise!” Frozen in time, all sorts of colours blinded her eyes; names of faces she could only recall if she walked slowly in deep contemplation.

“Buon compleanno, amore mio,” (happy birthday my love) The too familiar voice of a husky Italian whispered against the shell of her ears, the warm puffs from his lips grazing across her skin in shivers of coldness. “You thought I forgot? Never.”

[kimberly-spirits13]

Infinity Factor (Request)

Pairing: Batfam x batsis

Synopsis: You were born with what many would call a curse. From the reality last, where characters like Batman and Wonder Woman are just characters and everything was “real”, you had just died and now, as a result you were living this curse once more and have just been born into another universe. What you don’t know is that you’ll have to die for those you love until all your time here is exhausted. Thus, creating the Infinity Factor.

Note: (This was Google Translated so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong but it’s in the story) ‘ukhti alhabiba = my beloved sister (Arabic) ‘akhi alhabiba = my beloved brother

Warnings: Mentions of death

Word Count: 2383

           Bruce had found you on the streets of Gotham in the harsh winter during one of his nightly patrols. It was a routine thing to find the corpses of the homeless during this time which had desensitized him from any sort of event like this. What he wasn’t used to however was finding a screaming baby girl wrapped up in bundles of old cloth laying in the trash by itself with no other being around. That night, against all odds, you were alive. He took you home to Alfred’s care and immediately after that adopted you as he tends to have a habit of. ———————————————————————

           The first time you died was saving your father from a gunshot fired by an estranged guest at one of the galas. It was in the middle of him talking to one of the CEO’s that was invited and you that terrible feeling something would happen. You knew from the start that something was off but figured that Bruce would have to know too. The moment you saw him pull the small revolver, this unknown force just made you jump in front of Bruce. The shot fired and you took it. From there, everything was pitch black. You knew you weren’t done yet since you didn’t immediately wake up somewhere unknown to you.

           Instead, it was a miserable rest of the night for everyone else. You were rushed into the hospital and pronounced dead after only a few minutes upon arrival. The sounds of Bruce’s cries were what woke you up. Slowly light started flooding your senses and you heard the sudden starting of a heart monitor. Doctors came rushing in and the look of shock on your father’s face never your memories.

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           From then on you were known as the “Miracle Child” of the Wayne family. You didn’t particularly care for the nickname seeing as this thing that you had going on was never really a miracle, however there were many more incidents that proved this name to be a fitting one for more and more people.

           One by one, over the years Bruce had accumulated adopted many more children. All were at varying ages but you all came to know them as your family. This was the first real family you’d had in a considerable amount of lives and this time, you didn’t want to lose them. They didn’t want to lose you either. The curse that was bestowed upon you was like a double -edged sword. On one end, you might die for just a few minutes or even a day or two at most once you took a bullet, knife, sword, bomb, etc... for them. On the other hand, you might take that death and never wake up in this world. You lived every day in fear that something might happen to them thus, resulting in your own ultimate despise from this universe.

           The family knew this well. Jason and Damian especially. For someone who was roughly around Tim’s age, you had died a total of 14 times. Every week dreams flooded your mind of either some strange world you might come to live in, or the tragic and often graphic ways in which you had previously parished. The dreams of new worlds were often enticing and enthralling, however the latter was not. On nights you did have those bad dreams, someone was there with you under most circumstances.

———————————————————————

           This night wasn’t any different from past nights leading to this. It was a quiet night in Gotham during your own patrol. Nothing too strange was occurring and you certainly didn’t feel otherwise unsafe from the typical standard. Gliding from roof top to roof top, you were having the time of your life. It was an interesting aspect being on the ground below during the day but at night soaring above the tiny cars and street lights below.

           You didn’t stop until reaching a building where Bruce had found you in the diamond district that fateful January’s night. Walking to the front ledge of the building, you looked down on the streets and alley ways below. You had a habit of really looking carefully and even staring at some spots getting lost in what things in the shadows might be. Maybe it was a trashcan that looked especially off, or sometimes it was a cat casting a strange shadow in the city light’s glow, however, you always saw it.

           The unfailing and ever-present observation skills you picked up now were starting to register a different sound. It sounded as though someone were in great distress and the noise emanating from this signaled their near demise. Without a moment’s notice you could hear Duke’s voice coming onto the speakers. This was one of the nights that he decided to come on patrol since Steph had come down with the flu.

           “Someone’s been shot in the 6th Street – 5th Street alleyway. I’ve got this one handled.” He said.

           No time had passed from the end of that call to the moment you leaped off the building in the largest rush of your life, pulled by the same unknown force from so many times ago. Tears began to spring from your eyes knowing what was going to happen to you. You wiped your cheeks and carried on in pursuit of this killer so that Duke wouldn’t have to face what fate was so cruelly handing him if you weren’t quick enough. You knew that in consequence to what you were about to do, you’d be given his fate.

           It was dark when you reached the alleyway, there were no signs of any beings but for the woman laid on the cold concreate ground below. You saw the pain in her eyes and knew that she wasn’t gone yet. With this curse came another trait, you knew when someone was close to death. She wasn’t near it, not yet at least. Before jumping down the building, you dropped a flash bomb. It wasn’t enough to seriously startle the woman, it was just enough for you to see where the culprit was fast enough so that you’d be able to get him. The moment the light went off, trashcans started to fall. You knew where he was and without missing a beat, you jumped into your death knowing full well what was waiting for you down there.

           Duke wasn’t far behind. In fact, you had heard his calls and pleads not to go down there by yourself. Those were all obviously ignored seeing as you were now in the middle of a gunfight with two men. They didn’t seem to pose much of a threat compared to your training. It was the woman that knocked you off your guard some. You knew you had to get her to cover or she’d be shot by a stray bullet. That was Batman’s second rule. Don’t let bystanders be killed in your own fight. So that’s what you followed. With bullets flying and two fully grown men screaming at you to give up, you dragged her out of the way and into a safe place where the brick wall would give her cover as long as she didn’t move.

           “The woman that’s been shot is behind the wall for cover. Do not come out, I repeat urgh!” Your line went dead.

           Everyone listened in horror as a final gunshot went off. They heard what they hoped was you hitting the guy in the back of the head with his own revolver, and then a thud along with one other. They knew what that second thud was. It was Duke who found you dead, in a pool of your own blood. Next was your oldest brother, and then Bruce. They all kept coming until finally, Damian was there crying into your shoulder, your own blood now staining his costume darker red.

           No one spoke the rest of the way home. Bruce had you in the Batmobile to take you to the cave. Alfred was notified to open the room in which your body was to lay for at least three days. If you weren’t awake by then, you were certainly dead. In you went, each leaving and revisiting one by one. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t be able to leave. Not at all. From inside, the door was unlocked and Alfred always left a note explaining that in case you awoke and didn’t understand what was happening. You always understood, sometimes it just took a while for you to really grasp what had happened.

———————————————————————

           Hours and minutes ticked by. Every few hours or so, someone would visit outside your door and just stay there in either silence or in a conversation about their day. They knew you didn’t hear it, it was just nice feeling like you were still there in some way listening to their tirades on the idiot at the mall who didn’t know where they were going and was holding up the line. Or maybe it was someone at WE who wasn’t good at deals and negotiations and either wanted too much or demanded too little thus, a bargain was made almost at their expense. Either way, they always came to you to talk, even if you couldn’t answer back.

           When you finally did awaken, the lights were dimmed as they usually are. Inside was the fresh smell of your favorite candle which smelled like Alfred’s cookies and a few inches from it as to not start a fire, was a hand- written note by Alfred himself explaining where you were and how to get out of the room. You stayed in silence for a bit, crying to yourself over what you had experienced. The wound in your chest were gone and only a scar was left. Another “plus” of this curse was that your wounds healed without assistance or closure.

           Once the reality of it all had crept into your mind and you knew for certain that you were safe and home, you slowly opened the door. It was a bit brighter when the main part of the cave came into view. You wasted no time looking around for your family after using the bathroom that was downstairs close to where you were. They didn’t seem to be in the cave at the time being. Looking up at the bat-computer, you saw that it had been a full 27 hours since your death and right now, everyone should have been planned to be somewhere but for Damian, Alfred, and your father who would all be at home.

           Carefully, you climbed up the stairs and into the room where Bruce had set the main entrance into. It was hidden away and separate from the clock but none the less, everyone in the family knew about it. You made your ways through the halls not really knowing where to find anyone. You didn’t need to go into your bedroom since you were already in clean and comfortable clothes from the night of your death. The wood floors felt cold under your feet which is something that took a minute or two to get readjusted to but none the less, you continued on not to be deterred by something that mundane and simple.

           After not finding anyone in the lower wing of the house, you went upstairs straight to your father’s bedroom. You knew someone would either be there or in your room. Heading up the stairs, you found that there was no one in sight.

           “Maybe I should call someone?” You thought.

           Someone was always meant to be at the house when this kind of thing happened, however the manor was large and on many acres of land so even if there was someone there, you might not ever find them. You continued on back down the third flight of stairs and came to your own floor. Well, it wasn’t really your own floor, it was just where you room was. Slowly passing the opened doors of the other bedrooms just as Alfred kept them for air circulation, you made it to your room. The door was also wide open and the lights were not on.

           Stepping into your room however, you were met by a tear stained, wide eyed boy. Damian sat staring at you, his green eyes dimmed and darker from what crying he must have been doing. He sat on your bed, wrapped in one of your own blankets that sat on the chair you used to read him stories in. Immediately after registering your very alive self, he jumped up practically tackling you to the floor.

           “‘ukhti alhabiba!” He cried into your shoulder, “I m-missed you so much.”

           The two of you held each other as close as possible which wasn’t hard considering he was still very small in stature at this age.

           “I missed you too ‘akhi alhabiba.” You looked down at him and eventually up at Alfred and Bruce who had come from checking on you in the cave only to come up empty handed.

           Both of the men dropped to the floor holding you tight. There were some words of welcome back and others of happiness in gladness of your resurrection, but mostly tears. Bruce had contacted the rest of your family by now and they were all on their way. You knew when they got back, it would be a house full of crying bats.

           Now, only fifteen minutes later, everyone was there on the floor, huddling around you. You knew that you were safe in this moment. The smaller screams of joy in seeing you from your brothers entering the room made you sure of that. Damian hadn’t moved and Dick was latched onto you as well. You and Duke had almost had a facial expression conversation all including a sorry, gratitude, and a, “happy you’re back” moment. Jason wouldn’t really admit that he was sobbing that day even though everyone knew and Tim was so sleep deprived that he almost passed out upon seeing you. Either way, there wasn’t some crazy force pulling you into danger like those kind of this typically do. Instead, it was another even crazier and mind- boggling force that pulled you and your family closer together in the mourning a lost life, and finally the celebration of a restored one.

I had no idea where I was going to take this tbh lol. I had a good idea from the request but it wasn’t until I actually started writing that I was like ohhh okay. I hope you guys liked this one though, it was fun to write. Anyways, I hope you’re all doing great and staying safe and healthy. Have a wonderful day and rest of the week!