#i always think it's kind of funny when someone can hide in plain sight like this

[altair214]

I think Hob Gadling's absolute favorite and least favorite thing about the modern world is that he doesn't even have to worry about keeping his immortality secret from most people. Simply because even if he did tell them, they probably just wouldn't believe him unless they saw him survive a fatal wound right before their eyes, even then they probably would just assume that the wound was never actually fatal in the first place. Or they'd just assume they were hallucinating. Simply because of Occam's Razor, the simplest explanation is most likely true, so never in a million years would people think that anything suspicious was because he was actually immortal, they'd just come up with a million other reasons for why he survived a fatal wound.

On one hand this makes hiding his immortality around people from day to day extremely easy, but on the other hand, it's very lonely to tell someone a fact about yourself over and over again and never be believed.

The only things Hob really has to worry about is his social media presence, government documents, and hospital visits. Though I think most hospital visits would end just fine for Hob as even doctors would probably still talk themselves out of whatever they just saw happen. But he'd still have to be careful because if he were to survive a fatal wound in front of the wrong doctor, it would be all too easy for the government to lock him up to experiment on (and then Dream would have to go rescue him)

[auraalho]

Hi can you make diluc, xiao and childe love in first sight headcanon (separate)

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰, 𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ♥︎

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎, 𝑖’𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿 ♥︎ 𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑚𝑦 𝑙��𝑣𝑒

♡︎ Let me tell you something, he wasn’t planning getting in love with you.

♡︎ After everything that has happened to him, Diluc has created a barrier, a wall that is not easy to break, most people knew him for being a grumpy and lonely young man, but what they don’t know is that he is actually a very sensitive and kind person that doesn’t know how to open up to people.

♡︎ He thinks that by closing his heart to other people he will avoid more losses in his life, that is why he made sure to keep his distance with each new person he met. That until the day he met you of course.

♡︎ I can imagine that you, being a traveler, came from your home to the lands of Mondstadt to meet a friendly young man with blue hair (Better known as Kaeya) who offered to give you a walk around the town to help you know a little more about the place. Not without first inviting you a drink at the angel’s share tavern. And there’s where he meet you.

♡︎ You walked into the tavern with a smile as you told Kaeya about your recent explorations, how you got there and what your next plans would be. The redhead was about to complain about the presence of his brother until he realized the companion who came with him, the way your eyes lit up and how your smile appeared while you talked about what you were passionate about, he thought it was incredible cute and he didn't even know your name.

♡︎ While you were sitting at the bar having a lemonade with Kaeya talking to you about the places you should visit in Mondstadt, Diluc couldn’t help but constantly look at your figure, even when he was cursing himself and trying to not look at you, his eyes were wandering on their own and before that he realized he had already been looking at you directly for more than 10 minutes.

♡︎ Kaeya seems to have noticed this and with a malicious smile decides to tease his brother by suddenly including him in the conversation, causing him to blush without knowing what to say.

-So y/n this is Diluc, he knows the place very well, what do you think if we accompany you on your exploration of Mondstadt? We would help you a lot- said the one with blue eyes smiling at his brother.

Your eyes lit up again

-Really? Will you accompanying me? - You said looking at the redhead who was embarrassed enough to follow your gaze and panicking, he murmured very low that you could hardly hear him.

-I guess I am..- He said without knowing exactly what he was getting into, the only thing he knew was that you had stirred his heart, even without having the intention of doing it.

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 ♥︎

♡︎ This man omg. He’s such a cutie.

♡︎ He is in fact the person I most likely see falling in love at first sight.

♡︎ Childe is a very charismatic person, most of the time he is with a smile while with comedy and sarcasm he overcomes his problems, besides being a very intrepid person.

♡︎ Most people can't keep up with it because they think it's weird.

♡︎ And that believe it or not makes him feel bad, but he knows that there is something wrong with him, always trying to be a certain type of person and trying to pretend that everything is fine. It's exhausting for him, but he never gives up, and goes on with his life.

♡︎ That is why he finds himself looking for someone sincere, someone who does not hide their feelings.

♡︎ And that's when you arrive. Walking through the streets of Liyue market, Childe finds himself looking for some cor lapis for Zhongli, the last few days he has spent running some commissions to distract his mind for a while, lately he has felt without energy and being around people made him feel a little better.

♡︎ A little bit distracted by his thoughts he notices the presence of someone next to him, their figure a little smaller than his.

♡︎ You, a traveler from Mondstadt, came to Liyue for a couple of commissions and one of them was to get some cor lapis for Mr. Albedo who was doing a new experiment. Your plan was to go to the mountains to get it on your own, because it is a fairly expensive material, but things took an unexpected turn and you ended up doing more commissions from people you meet on your way to Liyue, by the time you realized they was already 10:00 at night, and going alone to the mountains in a place where you had never been didn’t seem like a good idea, so you decided to buy it.

♡︎ But as I told you, it’s EXPENSIVE, so you find yourself struggling in counting enough mora to buy the mineral.

♡︎ The way your nose wrinkled when you the lost count and how your lips drew a small pout, seemed to him the most beautiful thing in the world and unknowingly he found himself smiling at your little problem.

♡︎ You were about to give up and come back empty-handed until the young man next to you offered to pay for it himself.

♡︎ He had no idea why, but the way your smile appeared as you thanked him for the favor made him feel a tingle in his heart and all he thought was that he wanted to see that smile forever.

𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 ♥︎

♡︎ Let me tell you something again, he wasn’t planning getting in love with you too.

♡︎ Just as Diluc, Xiao seems to be a quite reserved and calm person, almost nobody dares to talk to him because he looks very intimidating.

♡︎ He never expected someone to come into his life as the way you did, like a gust of wind, without warning, and that made him nervous because he didn’t know how to control his feelings and had no idea of ​​these new emotions.

♡︎ It may sound funny but in his long life he had always solved things with his spear and hitting his problems. So finding himself in a situation like this where he CLEARLY can't do this would make him very dizzy and maybe a little scared.

♡︎ But let’s move on into the meeting;)

♡︎ You’re a liyue alchemist, always exploring and investigating new things, it was what you liked the most in life and your adventurous spirit led you to exploration in search of new ingredients for your experiments.

♡︎ However, things didn’t end up as expected and you ended up in a heated fight with two ruin hunters on the Guili plains that left you quite exhausted. So looking for a place to spend the night you ended up at the Wangshu Inn meeting a lonely adeptus who spent his nights on the roof of this.

♡︎ When you got there you couldn't help but take a look at the roof, the moon looked so calm and the stars so happy, who wouldn't want to see a view like that? while you were hypnotized with the scenery in front your eyes you didn’t notice the penetrating gaze of a young man who was in the same place as you.

♡︎ Thousands of things were happening in the head of the amber-eyed, the first thing he thought when he saw a person arrive to interrupt his lonely night was to leave there immediately.

♡︎ But he didn't, he wanted to but couldn't, his eyes were drawn to you, almost like a magnet, as much as he wanted to look away and get up from there he couldn't and didn't know why. Perhaps it was your fascinating presence with which you saw the moon as if it were the most precious thing in the world, or how the wind fluttered your hair elegantly. He didn’t know, but he had spent 2000 years looking at the beautiful moon and had never imagined someone as gorgeous as it, but you, you were fascinating.

♡︎ After a while of being there you decided to enter your room and that’s when you will find his beautiful eyes, almost like 2 stars, like 2 moons looking at you. You stayed there for a moment, admiring the beauty of it and just when you were about to greet him, he disappeared with the wind, leaving you there in the middle of the lonely night.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

if you need more asks.. may i suggest pining + jealous bakugou🥺 when he has no right to be jealous bc you’re not together but he still wants to prove that hes better than whoever has your attention

i- just wow what a perfect ask. truly delicious tysm

alsoooo ik this isn’t exactly what u asked for but it just fit super well with the rest of the ask so how bout sum secret-relationship!bakugou ???

—/—

Bakugou hated liars.

He hated people who would bend the truth and skew stories and give people false hope. He wasn’t a liar, obviously, and you weren’t a liar either. That’s why he even liked you so much in the first place. Or was. Until now.

It’s just- in Bakugou’s humble, yet self-decreed correct opinion, Denki was a idiot. Not just an idiot either, no, Denki Kaminari was a certifiable moron. An absolute blockhead who fried his own brain on the daily, for entertainment, and only had half a brain cell when Kirishima lent him one. This was Bakugou’s personal theory from the day he met the blonde, and so by that logic, obviously it was correct. Especially because Bakugou was never wrong, has never been wrong, not once in his-

That’s not the argument here. What is the argument here- what is the nagging, disgusting little problem digging away at Bakugou’s side, is how you’re currently breaking all his trust in you and lying and telling blatant fibs all over the common room.

He was currently sitting in the kitchen, scowling and muttering expletives into the table as he finished up assignments. You were supposed to be sitting across from Bakugou, where he could see you and talk to you and get started on schoolwork with you. In peace. But then the idiot walked in, loud and shouting, showing off a new ‘trick’ with all the grace of a legless deer. But it worked! Somehow Denki stole you away into the common room, far away from Bakugou, and instead tricked you into spending your time goofing off. Instead of studying like you promised!

You broke a promise, which meant you lied, in Bakugou’s eyes, and that was just plain unacceptable. What made it even worse though, what really put a giant stain all over Bakugou’s perfect afternoon, was that you did it with Denki Kaminari! Of all fucking people.

“Denki!” You cheer, cheeks red and ruddy from smiling all afternoon. “That was so cool! Do it again!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Another lie. You were obviously lying, because it, Denki- was not cool. He was not cool whatsoever, not even when he hung around Bakugou, so you were obviously lying. All the idiot was doing was making his hair stand on end- using his quirk to create static hair-dos like a dunce and you were laughing at it? Impressed by it?

No. No- clearly, clearly you were lying, or suffering from brain damage because someone hit you over the head which seemed unlikely because Bakugou’s been watching you all day and he’s fast, so fast and so strong and so capable, way more capable than fucking Denki, and cool too, so cool and he would’ve stopped that before it-

Again. Not the point.

“Look! Y/n,” Denki suddenly yells and Bakugou thinks he sounds like screeching hellspawn. “Guess who I am? Look! Guess!”

Oh.

Oh, okay. So Denki wasn’t just stupid- he must’ve been brain-dead and asking to be real dead because there he was, smiling like an idiot with his hair spiked up like Bakugou’s! Ruining Bakugou’s carefully-crafted and cool style- clouding it and smothering it in utter incompetence and a complete lack of higher brain function.

This just wouldn’t stand- not in Bakugou’s fucking common room.

“Dunce face! Better say your goddamn prayers, bitch!” Bakugou roars, tearing through the kitchen and into common room. “Swear to fucking god I’m gonna murder you!”

“Heyyyy, b-buddy.” Denki’s up and running, hiding around the opposite end of the couch as he holds up a placating hand. “I was just- it’s a joke! A joke, you know?”

“No I fucking don’t know, you absolute idiot!” Bakugou screams, chasing him down with explosions igniting. “It’s not fuckin’ funny! You havin’ the fuckin’ nerve to mock me like you’re not the single stupidest organism on the entire fucking planet! You’re a fuckin’ stain, you imbecile!”

Bakugou’s feeling good- feeling alive and fiery and carnivorous as he rounds on Denki. As he backs Denki into a corner, like he knew he would, since the blonde is quite literally the stupidest person Bakugou can think of. Bakugou raises his hand, nitroglycerin gathering in his palms. Denki screams. Like an absolute bitch.

“Y/n!” Denki wails. “Help me! Call somebody! Get Aizawa- I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die and get blown up and get-“

Bakugou ignites the gel waiting in his palms. Noise and chaos and Denki’s girlish screams fill the room. It smells like burning and soot and fire and then? The smoke clears- the smoke clears and Denki is still fucking talking.

“Y-you, you burnt my hair off! Bakugou!” He screeches, grabbing at fistfuls of his charred hair. “How- I- why, man?”

“Because I’m sick of your fuckin’ idiotic tricks!” Bakugou screams from above him, his spit covering nearly every surface of surrounding area, “And now you look as fuckin’ stupid as you act, idiot. Serves you fuckin’ right!”

Denki wails again. He’s beside himself and skitters away, tail between his foolish legs, towards the nearest bathroom to check the damage. He’s out of the room in seconds. Out of Bakugou’s sight- good.

Bakugou walks away triumphant, leaving behind a crime scene of fried hair and Denki’s soot-backed, cowering, outline on the wall. All is suddenly right in the world of Katsuki, and he takes a victory lap back towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do all that, you know.” You say, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “I would’ve come back eventually.”

“I-I didn’t- he fuckin’ deserved it for makin’ fun of me!” Bakugou yells, turning his face away to hide his blush. “It was for me, you shitty woman! Why the fuck would I have-“

“Mhm.” You nod, before giving a quick sign. “See that’s kind of a shame though, because if it was for me, I would be super proud of the winner. I have a real thing for winners, you know, an-“

“I won!”

“What’s that, blasty?”

“I said- I said I fuckin’ won! You were there! You fuckin’ saw it with your own shitty eyes!” Bakugou is red in face now, hands clenched into fists. “I won- I killed him! Just like I said!”

“You fried his hair.”

“Whatever- who fuckin’ cares! He still lost! I won!”

“Yeah, I guess you did.” You walk closer to him, taking his clenched fists into your hands. “Now stop being so pouty and mad, will you? You won, and it’s over, and you’re still the one who wanted to keep us a secret, remember?”

“Yeah! Because of idiot’s like him- always fuckin’ runnin’ his mouth and sayin’ shit! I don’t wanna deal with it!”

“Alright then, Katsu. I get it. Calm down.” You soothe, running your finger through his hair. He leans into your touch. “Besides, I like you and your hair better, so no need to get so jealou-“

“Who said I was fuckin’ jealous, hah?” Bakugou screams. “I didn’t! I wasn’t! I’ve never been jealous, that’s fucking stupid, something stupid people do, and I’m not stupid! I don’t do it and-“

You just laugh, pressing a kiss into his hair as he screams.

[stxrvel]

cowboy like me

summary: a bad day for Bucky, a splendid week for the woman. mixed feelings and memories of a stormy past prevent Bucky from giving voice to his true feelings. (I'm really sorry I'm so bad at summary's)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2k or so.

warnings: poor bucky letting his feelings get the better of him and saying mean things from time to time, sorry bout that. oh, and I wrote this in the third person, I don't know if that's a warning but still. and last but not least, English is not my native language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes.

also, the title of this and the part of the song quoted below only inspired the setting of this one-shot. the "plot" is independent of the theme song. I just have a bunch of taylor's songs that inspires me scenarios like this with independent plots, it's like a hobby. and ALSO, this is my first fic in here, and I really hope to do more parts in the future, especially when this semester is over. so, I hope you like it!

you're a bandit like me eyes full of stars hustling for the good life

It had not rained like this for quite some time. Lightning echoed in every part of the city and the drops were crashing against the window glass with the speed of a Maserati on a winding road; the sky was dark even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon. Inside the room, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable, one of the reasons she stopped by at least five times a week. However, a few minutes before the downpour began, the whole atmosphere had turned so grey that for a moment it seemed as if the clouds were bringing a bad omen...

But no, it was only him.

The man who always sat next to her in the cafeteria to use one of the computers that the café provided as a service.

Besides the sound of the bell above the door and his soaked boots, it was his exasperated sigh that caught her attention before she looked away from her laptop screen.

His hair fell over his forehead with a few raindrops slipping from his forehead and temples, until they were lost under his jawline and mingling in the cotton of his shirt. The frown he kept on his face did not disappear as he tried, very unsuccessfully, to dry his clothes by shaking them slightly.

He would definitely do anything to keep that leather jacket and gloves on.

The smell of coffee and the hustle and bustle of the room contrasted with the calm but resignedly helpless attitude of the man who was running his hands heavily over his trousers as if they were a portable hairdryer.

Michael, one of the waiters who occasionally gave them ham and cheese croissants on Saturdays when they were both there, approached the sulking man and, seconds later, they both disappeared into the kitchen behind the till.

The screen of her mobile phone lit up as she tried to refocus on the reading she had to do.

Betty: I still don't understand how not wanting to visit your abusive dad in hospital is an important topic of conversation in a counselling session. I mean, the words abusive father say it all.

Tell me you're on my side.

Me: I still think you should change your psychologist.

Betty: I know! But at that clinic it's 30% cheaper than getting a private one. But, I already have a solution, next week I'll...

The squeak of the chair next to her being dragged startled her and her mobile phone almost flew out of her hands. The grumpy man, now a little drier, dropped the weight of his giant body on the poor chair so that it squeaked as if complaining about the man's rudeness. He stared at the computer screen on as if it held the solution to all his problems.

“Bad day?”

“Just an unfortunate string of inconveniences since I opened my eyes this morning,” he commented seriously and gravely as he began to move his hands over the keyboard. He hadn't looked at her when he spoke, which was not unusual, but at the moment it felt inappropriate, “Nothing I'm not used to.”

The woman turned her head to look at the twenty-seven pages she still had to read, and it seemed too tedious a thing to spend her time on now that Bucky had arrived.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I'm going to apply for a job at a daycare, maybe I could start practicing with you.”

Bucky faked a laugh, rather bitter and strained the kind she was used to hearing, “Very funny,” he said, his gaze dark and fixed on the screen.

“Sometimes you laugh at my jokes.”

“When they're funny,” he blurted out as soon as she finished speaking, instantly regretting it but not showing it in his body language.

“Hey! Don't hurt my feelings like that. What happened with your therapist? If you want to talk about it, sure.”

She watched his body tense and how he made no attempt to hide the bitter expression on his face as soon as the word "therapist" left her mouth. The woman thought she'd made a poor choice of words, yet Bucky felt unsettled by how strangely easily she seemed to be able to read his attitudes. Since when had she started doing such things? Had she always been that way? Had he let his guard down that much these past few weeks?

“Just... trouble, in general,” he pronounced her name with feigned gentleness, sending a shiver down her spine. Had he noticed by now? So soon? She thought, hastily.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to keep her composure as her mind worked at full speed, “I understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

No, he couldn't have noticed. Regardless of how damaged and broken she was inside, she knew that wasn't something Bucky paid the most detailed attention to. And, even if that were the case, there wasn't a person on the planet who knew her better than he did at this point, so if he wanted to walk away and leave her to not deal with her problems and constant chatter, he would have done so long ago.

Bucky sighed deeply, the movement of his chest aching from the lump in his throat. His hands moved on automatic over the keyboard, digging into things he already knew, spending the time just trying to divert the train of thought that wouldn't leave him alone. Anyway, is it really so bad for someone to know me like that? He thought, as the woman returned to her reading, it's not bad to be vulnerable once in a while, she's not going to hurt me. I know, I know.

Then why does it scare me so much?

His hands clasped as a third presence appeared between them. Michael, with a giant grin on his face, set two medium-sized cups of coffee on the small table they shared in front of the window. The woman's, with milk and sweetened with vanilla, as she always asked for. Bucky's, black, plain and cold, the way he always drank it.

The girl sitting next to him and the barista shared a couple of words in a conversation that seemed to be too funny, because she kept laughing. Why did he find her laughter annoying? Was it because it was too loud, or because it sounded too high-pitched unlike her normal laughter? When she laughed with Bucky, her tone was softer, gravelly, delicate and jovial. He couldn't describe the sensation that burned in his chest every time her eyes narrowed at her smile, or every time she brought her right hand to her chest, over her heart, as if she couldn't bear to laugh anymore, but at the same time holding back the pain in her cheeks so she wouldn't stop.

Michael didn't get that. No, he wasn't getting what Bucky was.

“Bucky?”

Her chuckling voice disconnected him from the bizarre conjectures in his mind, and he turned his eyes to her. She was looking at him with a rueful smile and her cheeks were too flushed.

“Are you all right?”

The aforementioned reveled in the sight that was plastered in front of him, with her sparkling eyes and the way her lips curved, before replying, “Yeah, all good.”

When he noticed Michael was still there, his shoulders tensed and quickly his gaze refocused on the sea of words displayed on the screen in front of him.

“You're too stiff,” he heard the woman's voice again a few seconds later, “Are you sure you don't want to do something to distract yourself? There are a lot of things coming to mind right now.”

Bucky turned to look at her with a frown.

“What things?”

“Um, last week you told me you've never played twenty questions before.”

The man arched an eyebrow, intrigued by how his mind played him, but quickly replied, “Do I look like the kind of person who plays the twenty questions?”

“Not really, but that day you told me you were willing to try it if I played it with you.”

Bucky was silent for a few seconds.

“I don't remember saying that.”

“Sometimes you don't remember a lot of things for convenience, Barnes,” she teased innocently, but Bucky knew what that meant: you're always evading me when I'm trying to help you.

And well, it was true.

“I imagine you don't remember Sam's invitation to you three days ago either.”

“What invitation?” he played distracted, as he pretended to vehemently read what he'd Googled.

“He asked you to join him to watch a game at the bar two blocks from your flat.”

Bucky hummed as he pretended to think about what he'd just heard, even though he remembered it perfectly. And he knew that earlier in the day he'd left it on hold, which was a clear and express no, but he hadn't said that to the woman who was now staring at him.

“I don't like football.”

The woman let out a snort of exasperation.

“This is why you have no friends, Bucky.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Bucky knew it was a joke. She'd said things like that to him before and it had never bothered him; he knew she didn't mean it in a derogatory way or to make fun of him. She would never do that. But subconsciously, he couldn't stop his mouth from blurting out the words he didn't want to say; words he would never have thought to say to her.

“I know you've had a bad day, Buck,” she spoke again after a few seconds, “But I just want to distract you.”

“I don't need your help, I can manage on my own.”

“Okay, let's just... change the subject, shall we?”

Bucky pursed his lips, but didn't dare connect their gazes.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay," she mused, and didn't speak again until a couple of seconds later, “How was your date?”

He gave a small smile before saying, “I'm sure you waited for a reasonable amount of time so you could satiate your curiosity.”

The woman let out a laugh, the kind that had the ability to calm Bucky's countenance for a few moments, before replying, “It's just that ever since I met you I didn't think I'd ever see you going on a real date.”

“And you probably won't again.”

“That's how bad it went?”

Bucky twisted his mouth, only remembering the image in the background of his neighbour's flat.

“It could have been worse.”

“Maybe we're just not cut out for dating.”

After a long moment, Bucky turned his head to watch her pursed lips. Her expression seemed downcast, but she pulled herself together quickly when she felt his gaze on her.

“What we've done or who we've been in the past, doesn't define what we can do or be now,” he reminded her of the words she always said to him when he felt he didn't deserve something good, and watched her nod at his words with a small smile, “Don't torment yourself thinking about it, neither of us had a choice.”

“I could tell you the same thing.”

Bucky smiled, sincerely, and for the first time since he had awoken that morning.

“I apply the philosophy you preach perfectly, I'm a great disciple.”

She elongated a sarcastic laugh that widened Bucky's grin. What was it about her that drew you in and bewitched you like that?

“In a trauma contest, you'd take first place, Barnes.”

“We'd be tied, you mean.”

The woman smiled at him, and between their looks, they both knew they were only hiding the truth behind the humour. Bucky didn't often do it, but since he'd met her, and considering that was something she often did -using humour to cover up the truth she'd rather not accept, or simply to hide the pain-, he'd gotten such a habit of doing it every so often that even his therapist was a little put out the first time he joked about one of his traumas in front of her. It was a very strange scenario that was never repeated.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier,” Bucky took the floor again, a little more relaxed than when he'd arrived soaking wet in the cafeteria, “It's just... I killed my neighbour's son.”

“No,” she replied quickly and firmly, as she did every time a similar topic came up in their conversations, “It was the Winter Soldier. It was a person they created to control and disenfranchise, that wasn't you. It wasn't the Bucky I know. I'm sorry to hear that, but... it wasn't your fault, I know that whatever they did for your mind was always rejected by your body, even if you couldn't control it.”

The man half-opened his lips, wanting to say something, wanting to give voice to the jumble of thoughts concurring in his mind, but nothing managed to come out other than incoherent babbling.

“I... I don't know how to tell him.”

“You really want to?”

Bucky nodded, looking into the woman's shining, understanding eyes as she brought one of her hands up to cradle the side of his face.

“Then you'll find a way. Don't push yourself.”

He rested his right hand on the hand the woman held on his cheek, and leaned his head slightly into her touch. Although the stress and tension did not disappear completely, it did give way to a relaxing and lively sense of calm and stillness. Bucky didn't know if she had done it on purpose or not, but her words, though few, brought back a harmonic undertone he hadn't allowed himself to return to in a long time.

Then you'll find a way.

Don't push yourself.

[pink-flame]

For the Trope ask, 14 and 27 with Juke, then 19 and 72 with a ship of your choice

I’ll get to the second half of this soon. But for now part 2 of Bodyguard AU Juke! 

Read part one here. 

Bodyguard AU + Sick/Injured fic

Julie Molina was not sick.

Ok, maybe she had been dragging for days and her brain had gone slightly fuzzy and she was pretty sure she had a temperature.

But she wasn’t sick. She couldn’t be. Not when her first ever national tour started in less than a month and her second album had just been released. She had radio appearances and tv interviews and stage rehearsals and a million other things she had to do that week.

So she couldn’t be sick.

Unfortunately her body didn’t seem to get that memo.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Julie turned her head sluggishly toward Luke who was frowning over at her from the back of the car they were being driven towards her next interview in.

She shook her head then realized that was the opposite of what she meant to do. She stopped mid-shake and switched over to a nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She told him, the slight croak to her voice doing little to help her credibility.

Luke’s frown deepened and his eyes narrowed as he examined her from across the car.

Alex turned to look back from the front seat.

“You are looking kind of like a ghost, Jules,” He observed. “You’re paler than me.”

“I said I’m fine,” Julie insisted even as she shivered involuntarily. “Can we just go over the schedule for today again?”

“Oh look at that,” Alex said, typing furiously on his phone. “It just cleared up.”

“Alex…” Julie whined.

“You should listen to him, Julie,” Luke broke in. “You’re not helping anyone by passing out on live tv.”

Julie crossed her arms and let out an indignant huff. She could feel her lips pursing like an annoyed toddler. She couldn’t help it. Being sick always reverted her back to her younger days and left her feeling pouty and clingy.

Not that she was sick.

Only her head was killing her and her nose was kind of stuffy and she was so tired.

“Maybe…” Her voice cracked and she studiously ignored the look Alex and Luke exchanged at the sound. “Maybe I could take one day off.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen reason,” Alex said. “Not that you had a choice but still.”

Julie sighed, deciding she didn’t have the energy to engage with her best friend at that moment. She sank back into the leather of the seat, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. She would just rest her eyes and by the time they got back to her place maybe she would feel up to doing some work remotely. She could tweak the lyrics for that Spotify exclusive she had promised for next week and maybe even call into a couple of radio shows she had been booked on. She would convince Alex that was a good idea. She just needed to rest for a few minutes first.

At least that had been the plan.

Instead she found herself being shaken awake to the sight of Luke’s face hovering over hers.

“Jules? We’re here.”

Had he ever used that nickname for her before? She didn’t think so. She decided to blame her apparent illness for the sudden fluttering in her chest at the sound of the word tumbling casually from her bodyguard’s lips.

“Alex,” She mumbled, still half out of it. “Maybe I can do a couple of my interviews on the phone…”

“Go to bed,” He interrupted. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”

Julie wanted to protest but her brain was moving a little too slow and Luke was already pulling her out of the car, those absurdly defined muscles being put to work, and she lost her train of thought.

“I can walk,” She grumbled as he led her into her building and over to the elevator, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I know,” He said in an annoyingly agreeable voice. “So can I and right now we’re walking together.”

Julie rolled her eyes but let herself be hustled into the elevator. Luke scanned his key card to authorize it to take them to the top floor.

“Who gave you a key to my building?” Julie asked as she leaned against the wall and let her tired eyes slide shut.

“That would be you,” Luke answered, his amusement clear even though she didn’t open her eyes to check his expression.

“What an idiot,” She mumbled.

Her head was now not only throbbing but had suddenly started to feel too heavy to keep upright.

She felt Luke lean against the wall next to her and gave into the urge to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder. Or she would have if he hadn’t been quite a bit taller than her. As it was her head landed awkwardly somewhere towards the middle of his arm.

She sighed and decided it was too much trouble to try again.

He didn’t comment on her behavior, only leaned a little closer to her so she had less of a stretch.

It felt like only a second later that she heard the familiar ding that let her know they had reached her floor.

“Come on,” Luke said, raising her gently off of his arm so he could wrap it around her waist again and steer her towards her front door. He swiped his key again and pushed the door open, half dragging her inside and straight to her bedroom. She briefly had the wherewithal to wonder if she had left anything embarrassing out in plain sight but quickly gave up as she sank onto the edge of her bed.

“Thanks,” She mumbled. “I’m good now.”

He ignored her statement which was clearly intended to dismiss him. He crouched down in front of her and reached up to place the back of his hand against her forehead. Julie shivered, unsure if it was her fever or his proximity that caused her reaction.

She decided the fuzzy feeling in her head was excuse enough to let herself examine his face up close. She hadn’t been this close to him since they were pressed up against each other while hiding in her closet. It wasn’t a good memory exactly, she remembered how scared she had been in the moment, how violated she had felt later when she let it sink in that someone had invaded her home. But she also remembered his hand clutched in hers, soft palms and calloused fingertips confirming her suspicion that he was a musician in his spare time. She remembered his eyes, impossibly big as they searched hers for signs of panic. She remembered his messy hair and how badly she had wanted to run her fingers through it even during a terrifying situation.

And she remembered how he had refused to leave her that night, insisting that he sleep on her couch, just in case. She had gotten up that night, telling herself she needed a glass of water but knowing deep down she just wanted a glimpse of his sleeping face.

It was a good face.

His lips quirked up slightly.

“Thanks,” He said as he dropped his hand from her forehead.

“For what?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“You just said I had a good face.”

Julie would have reacted more to that if she had the energy. As it was all she could do was groan slightly at the knowledge that she managed to say something she didn’t mean to in front of him again.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t know what you’re saying,” He assured her. “You’re burning up, Boss.”

“I think I’d better lie down,” She mumbled.

He nodded and stood.

“Do you have some...where can I get you something to sleep in?” He asked.

“You don’t have to,” She tried to dismiss but he just stared at her expectantly. “Middle drawer.”

He crossed the room quickly and opened the door in question, grabbing an old baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, bringing them back to her quickly.

“Thanks,” She said again.

“I’ll just…” He jerked his thumb towards the doorway indicating he would leave the room so she could change.

She nodded and started pulling her top off without hesitation. His eyes widened and he spun to leave the room quickly. Ok, she knew there were perfectly good reasons why she should have made sure he was turned around before she did that but she couldn’t latch on to them at that moment. She just wanted to be horizontal as soon as humanly possible. She had just managed to change and slide under her comforter when she heard the door to her condo click shut.

She tried to ignore the sinking in her chest at the sound.

Of course there was no reason for him to stay. He was her bodyguard not her babysitter and certainly not her boyfriend. Sure, she could admit to herself that she had been nursing a little crush on him for months and there had been times she was sure he was flirting with her. But then she reminded herself that was just how he was, chemistry with literally everyone. It didn’t mean anything to him.

So it couldn’t mean anything to her.

Julie sighed and sank deeper into her pillow. She wasn’t sure if she actually slept or if she just drifted in and out of feverish confusion but the next thing she was fully aware of was Luke once again crouching in front of her.

She wasn’t sure if he was real or not and somehow in her fever addled mind that seemed like a good reason to reach out and touch his face.

His eyes softened affectionately when her fingers brushed his cheek and she wasn’t sure if that was evidence that he was real or a fantasy.

“Hey, Boss,” He said softly.

“Hey,” She whispered. “You came back.”

He smiled and held up a plastic bag.

“Of course. I got Tylenol and tissues and some soup I can make you later.”

She felt a surge of treacherous joy at his words even as she struggled to hold on to enough logic and propriety to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to stay,” She told him, pulling her hand back to her side. “This isn’t part of your job description.”

He chuckled and she wanted to demand he tell her what was so funny but she was distracted by the way he reached out to run his hand over the top of her head.

“Go to sleep, Jules.”

Her brain seemed to take his words as a command, her eyes fluttering shut. Unfortunately only a few seconds passed before a shrill ringing was causing them to shoot open again.

“Don’t answer it,” Luke tried even as she was reaching for her phone which sat on her nightstand.

“Hello?” She muttered, holding it up to her ear weakly.

“Julie? Are you ok?”

She frowned as the familiar voice of her big brother washed over her.

“Reggie? How did you even know I was sick?” She asked.

“Alex called me,” He said as though it should be obvious. “Look, I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What? No. That’s like a 6 hour drive,” She croaked out. “There’s no reason for you to come all the way from San Francisco.”

“The flu isn’t something to mess around with, Julie,” He insisted. “You shouldn’t be alone and Alex is working.”

Julie’s head was spinning and even the weight of her phone seemed to be too much for her in her current weakened state.

“I’m not alone,” She mumbled.

“What? Who’s there?” Reggie demanded.

“Just talk to Luke,” She instructed.

She just had time to hear Reggie ask semi-frantically who exactly Luke was before she was shoving the phone into her bodyguard’s hands. He looked slightly panicked but to his credit he took the phone and raised it to his ear.

Julie had intended to eavesdrop on their conversation but in the end she sank into a fitful slumber before she could hear a thing.

The next time she woke up she didn’t feel any better. If anything she felt even worse. Luke was there though. He brought her more pain medicine and walked her to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t fall. He made her soup and hot tea. And when she started to droop again he tucked her back into bed.

“Goodnight, Boss.”

He was still there when she woke up the next day.

She had a text message from Alex saying he had rescheduled her commitments for that day too and she still felt too miserable to fight him on it. Apparently Luke had gone back to his place at some point while she slept because he was wearing fresh clothes when she emerged from her room.

She felt slightly better by lunch, managing to sit up and join Luke on the couch to watch some tv. She discovered he loved the trashy reality shows that drove her crazy and she adored the cooking shows he called criminally boring. They both loved 90’s sitcoms though. At one point he grabbed her acoustic guitar and started playing her a song she had never heard before.

Dreaming like we’ll live forever

But living like it’s now or never

Julie managed a tired smirk.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m dying?” She asked teasingly.

“Not on my watch,” He said firmly before shooting her one of those troublesome grins she would always associate with him. “And that is part of my job description.”

Right. Because he was her employee. Only...surely employees didn’t just hang around for two days to keep their boss company while she was sick...did they?

The next day Julie was starting to feel more human. She insisted that Luke go home. It had taken some convincing but finally he had agreed, insisting that she call him if she needed anything.

Julie spent two more days recovering alone in her apartment, most of her symptoms having abated but a deep sense of exhaustion taking a little longer to leave her. She called Reggie back and ignored his pointed questions about why a bodyguard was so dedicated to her well-being when it wasn’t life threatening and was she sure there wasn’t something she wanted to tell him?

Brothers.

Alex wasn’t much better, texting her every five minutes not with work updates but asking if she had spoken to Luke. Of course she hadn’t. He was her bodyguard not her boyfriend and if some small part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t called to check on her she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

She was feeling back to herself and prepared to return to her hectic life the next day when she got one more message from Alex that had her nearly dropping her phone.

Just a heads up, I found out why lover boy hasn’t called. He caught your flu.

Julie felt a lot of things as she read Alex’s text.

She felt guilty.

She felt worried.

She felt an overwhelming urge to make sure he was ok.

She knew she could accomplish that by shooting off a quick text. If she really wanted to go the extra mile as a boss she could call. That would be normal. That would be appropriate.

But hadn’t they passed that a long time ago?

So that’s how she found herself outside of his apartment, knocking nervously on his door.

At first no one answered but just as she was debating knocking again the door swung open to reveal a pale Luke, his slightly sweaty face scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Julie? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice a familiar croak.

“You caught my flu,” She said simply as though that should explain everything.

He managed a smile even if it was slightly pained.

“So you what...came to apologize?”

“No, I…” She held up the bag she gripped in her hand. “I brought Tylenol and tissues and some soup I could make later. If you want.”

His eyebrows raised sluggishly in surprise.

“You’re going to take care of me?” He asked, that soft look back in his eyes.

“I can’t have you dying on me,” She shrugged with a small smile. “Who else would protect me from the over zealous tweens on tour?”

He chuckled before cutting himself off with a cough.

“That’s sweetly pragmatic of you,” He said. “How did you even know where I live?”

“Um, I had Alex pull your personal file,” She admitted.

“Wow, pretty sure that’s an HR violation,” He joked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. So...can I come in?” She asked only slightly nervously.

In the end she shouldn’t have worried.

He only grinned tiredly and stepped aside to let her pass.

“Come on in, Boss.”

And so she stepped over the threshold thinking about how if this was a song she was writing that would be a metaphor for the start of something.

But that was a song to write another day.

Tag request: @only-trust-fictional-characters

[spkothdvldotmp3]

so remember last july when i thought to myself, "haha, wouldn't it be cool if i made a mechsona?"

well, turns out a year of living with that thought in the back of your head will only get you 4,977 nearly 5,000 words of backstory and a spotify playlist, so, solid 7/10 experience

(okay look, Day 2 of the Mechtober prompts was the most coincidentally perfect overlap of "Mechsona" and "Blood," so I finally decided to stop being a coward and actually let people who aren't my classmates see this. ALSO, quick warnings for violence and death, if you're a bit squeamish about those sorts of things. So, with that said, the story itself...)

Introducing!

La Vie en Rouge

Dear Reader:

In this strange world, so bright and so bold

You may, somehow, find a Tale Yet Untold

You could read one now, if you so choose

This Tale- of the Blood-Red Dancing Shoes.

It had started like any other day. And not even an interesting kind of “any other day,” like a Saturday, which always promises adventure, or a Thursday, which has a tendency towards mystery. No, this was a Tuesday kind of “any other day,” which merely meant inescapable boredom.

At the very least, that’s how it started.

However, as Adeline Troffea was leaving her house, she heard the trumpets that signaled Lord Vitus’ arrival. She groaned. A visit from Vitus- sorry, His Most Esteemed Lord Vitus, she snorted as she mentally corrected herself- never went well. He was a deeply unpleasant person to be around, as he looked like a spoiled child and acted twice as bad. Additionally, he was usually about two seconds away from screaming nonsensically at any townsfolk who bothered him, like some sort of Saturday-morning-cartoon villain. Sometimes Adeline was sure he must be doing it on purpose- his ridiculous moustache (twirled oh-so-carefully at the ends), his pale skin and delicate hands (that had clearly never done anything harder than gesture dramatically from the shade provided by his servants), the too-fine crowns and jewels and capes his draped himself in (who even needed more than one crown? Isn’t that too excessive, even for Vitus?)- he couldn’t be for real, right?

Reader, Lord Vitus would prove himself to be more real than Adeline could imagine before this story’s end. But we’ll get to that in time.

Hopefully, Adeline thought to herself, walking down the well-trodden path into town, I can be in and out of the market before Vitus takes a single dainty step out of his carriage. Fabien, her best friend (practically an older brother, really) as well as the town’s shoemaker, had promised her something special today- an early birthday present, he had called it the day before, as the birthday in question was “an entire week and a day away” and he didn’t know if his “poor, old heart” would hold out that long.

“Fabien, you’re barely 30!” she had protested, shaking her head.

“I know, Addie, I’m ancient!” he’d moaned, before adopting the affectation of what was probably supposed to sound like an old man, but instead sounded more like a wheezing duck. “I can feel my brittle bones crackin’. They ain’t what they used to be, I tell ya. You know, when I was just a boy, I had to walk to school every day? Uphill! In the snow!”

“Both ways!” Adeline joined in before they both dissolved into laughter.

So now, here she was, in front of Fabien’s shop, feet tapping on the ground in a sort of nervous excitement. Gingerly, she opened the door.

“Hello?” she called. The response came from somewhere in the back of the shop.

“Ah, Addie! What a surprise! What sort of thing-that-I-totally-don’t-know-about brings you here today?”

She rolled her eyes as she began to make her way through the shelves and around the cobbling stations to the back of the building. “You know, it’s a funny story actually, but my best friend- well, former best friend, I should say-” she was cut off by a sharp laugh as she turned the next corner and came face to face with Fabien, holding a beautiful red box.

“‘Former best friend?!’ Is that any way to treat someone who’s gotten you such a spectacular present?” he asked, schooling his face into an over exaggerated pout.

“It is if they’re going to be stupidabout it,” she replied, yanking the present from his hands with ease. Fabien made a wounded sound, and Adeline stuck her tongue out in response before opening the lid of the box.

Inside was the most beautiful pair of tap shoes Adeline had ever seen. The leather they were made of was white as freshly fallen snow, and the perfect balance between flexible and sturdy. She turned them over in her hand and gasped, brushing her finger over the engravings on the metal taps.

“Roses,” Fabien smiled softly, “because I know they’re your favorite.”

Overwhelmed, Adeline could only set the shoes aside for a moment and tackle Fabien in a hug. And for that one shining moment, everything was perfect.

“Oh, I simply must have these!” a haughty voice sang out behind Adeline, who jumped at the sudden noise. Standing there was none other than Lord Vitus himself, bedecked in his finest golden cape, and holding- oh no, absolutely not. Before she could even register her own movements, she yanked her shoes back.

“No, you simply mustn’t have these, actually,” she quipped in that same snooty tone, stuffing the shoes back in the box, before suddenly realizing what exactly she had done. Refusing the Lord? Taking things right out of his hands? Mocking him to his face? How could she possibly get out of this?

Clearly, there was only one answer.

She bolted.

She heard Vitus’ petulant cry of “After her!” ring out from behind, and then the heavy sound of soldiers’ footsteps, but she dared not look back. Instead, she ran harder, her mind racing almost as fast as her feet. There had to be someplace to hide. She turned a corner, onto a smaller side street. She couldn’t go home, it was too far away.She burst out onto another street before turning abruptly, one hand wrapping around a streetlamp to keep her momentum as she flew back where she’d just come from, the soldiers falling over themselves in their confused haste. But there were so many soldiers, and there was no way she could outrun them forever.

She ducked into a dark alley for a moment, throwing herself behind a couple of barrels just as the men appeared at the mouth of the alley. She held her breath as they hurried past her, trying not to catch their attention with her heaving gasps. And this is why I’m a dancer, not a runner, she thought, half delirious on a cocktail of exhaustion and adrenaline. Could it have been minutes? Hours? All the streets had blended together long ago, and her muscles ached with exertion. Unintentionally, she closed her eyes, just for a moment.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and Adeline’s blood turned to ice in her veins as her eyes shot open again. Her despairing cry was cut short as another hand covered her mouth. She shook her head wildly, terror taking over, before she caught the gaze of her captor.

Fabien.

Adeline felt her entire body sink back in relief with his appearance. Slowly and ever-so-softly, Fabien removed his hand from her mouth, making a shushing motion before Adeline could even open her mouth to ask what was going on. He carefully undid the buttons of his cloak, taking if off of himself and wrapping it around Adeline. It dangled loosely from her small frame, making her look even smaller. A disguise, she noted distantly, hiding in plain sight. Once he’d secured it around her shoulders, Fabien began to explain.

“Everyone’s pretty proud of you, you know, standing up to Vitus like that. I know you’ve always been a bit of a wildcard, but that was even better than expected. You should have seen his face when you ran, oh my-”

Adeline made a small noise of distress. She hadn’t been making a statement, she’d been making a mistake! It was all a big misunderstanding, and now she was going to be killed, or worse, and she hadn’t even had the chance to wear her beautiful birthday shoes, and-

Fabien shook her gently, murmuring comforts, and she took in a shuddering breath, focusing back on him.

“You’ve been brave enough today. Let me take a turn, okay?” he said softly, gesturing at the shoebox. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed it from her still shaking hands. In seconds, he had pried open the lid, taken the shoes out, and tucked them into the inside pockets of the cloak Adeline now wore, continuing to talk as he did so.

“The village has been giving Vitus the run-around all day, trying to keep him off your trail, and honestly, I’m not sure he’s noticed. That man is so far up his own ass that I genuinely think he can’t even comprehend the thought of people working against him.” Fabien smiled a bit as Adeline giggled weakly. “Just keep a low profile. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

For a moment, Adeline was so overcome with emotion that felt like her legs might give out underneath her. Instead, she threw herself forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, so much. For everything.”

Fabien squeezed her in return.

“Nothing to thank me for, Addie.”

It was at this moment the sound of soldiers came rushing back, hurling them both back into reality. In a flash, Fabien pulled the cloak’s hood up, casting Adeline’s face in shadow. He gave her a little push towards the other end of the alley, nodding reassuringly. Adeline took a deep breath, steeling herself, before walking, confidently as she could, back out onto the crowded street.

There were soldiers everywhere, knocking on doors, stopping bystanders and asking them about Adeline’s whereabouts. A customer just coming out of the bakery- Monsieur LeClair, she noted- was having one such conversation… if one could call “a man taking obnoxiously large bites out of a muffin and then speaking with his mouth full, spraying bits of food directly into the soldiers’ faces” a conversation. As the soldiers hurriedly excused themselves, disgustedly wiping the muffin bits from their faces, Monsieur LeClair caught Adeline’s eye and winked. She smiled and bowed her head in return before scurrying off again. As she made her way to the town square, she passed at least a dozen or so variations on this conversation- townsfolk left and right making excuses, even outright lying to the soldiers, distracting them long enough for Adeline to slip away, towards the town square.

Vitus was exactly where she thought he would be- right in the middle of the town square, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen (and all those who wouldn’t). She leaned against the brick wall of the closest building, trying to make herself look as small and unassuming as possible. She bit her lip as she thought through possible escape scenarios, keeping Vitus in her peripheral vision, right up until-

“We found the shoemaker, Your Lordship, but no sign of the girl or the shoes.”

Adeline felt her heart stop as her head turned on autopilot. A crowd had gathered in the square, following three figures that Adeline loathed to recognize as Fabien and Lord Vitus’ men. One soldier shoved Fabien down roughly, while another threw the shoebox down with such force that it popped open, revealing its empty inside.

Vitus rolled his eyes at Fabien, looking bored out of his mind. “Where are they?” he sighed.

“Where are what, My Lord?” Fabien asked through gritted teeth.

At this, Vitus seemed to revert to an overgrown toddler.

“My shoes! They were so very pretty and I wanted them, but that little wretch stole them from me and ran off and I want them baaaack!”

Fabien, still on his knees, snorted.

Vitus blinked, clearly surprised. Suddenly, another laugh joined in, and another, and another, and in seconds the entire crowd was laughing at this grown man’s tantrum. Even Adeline found herself giggling, albeit shakily.

It was as though Vitus had only just now realized what kind of a predicament he was in. No one was going to give up the shoes, or the girl, and to make matters worse, they weren’t going to take him seriously either. He glanced nervously around the crowd for a moment before his lip curled and his nose scrunched up, as though he had just smelled something particularly unpleasant. Standing to his full height, he raised his voice.

“You have one week to hand over the shoes! If you do not, there will be, shall we say… severe consequences.” He turned around dramatically, which reignited the snickering, and quickly made his way back to his carriage processional.

As the carriages rattled away, Adeline was struck by an idea. It was a bad idea, she knew, and probably too risky, but she had already defied the odds once today, and with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she felt unstoppable. She nimbly climbed to the roof of the nearest building to pay her respects, so to speak, waving in the direction of Vitus’ window. She ripped off her hood dramatically, snorting when Vitus’ face contorted in rage. And as her heart sang with love for her town and her people, her feet were helpless to dance along for all the world to see. From her perch on the roof, she watched the other townsfolk join her in celebration, dancing in their own little ways. Madame Beaumont lifted her son Jean into the air, spinning him around as he giggled. Michel Rousseau was doing a little shoulder shimmy. Even Old Lady Coralie was dancing a little two-step. Adeline beamed at them all before turning toward Fabien. Several people were still gathered around him, making sure he wasn’t too hurt, and Adeline almost climbed right back down to join them. But, as though he could sense her worry, Fabien looked up suddenly at met her eyes. He smiled at her before winking conspiratorially. Relief flooded through her as she winked back- a sign that everything was going to be okay, and one she believed wholeheartedly.

Just before she climbed back down to go home, she chanced a glance back at Vitus’ carriage. For a second Vitus met her eye, his glare an ice cold promise of revenge. Adeline shivered under the threat, before gathering herself just enough to make a rude gesture back at him. The distressed shriek that followed was music to her ears.

That pompous man-child had it coming anyway, Adeline thought, and resolved to put the matter out of her mind. Of course, Reader, it wasn’t so simple as that, but let it not be said that she didn’t try her best to hide her misgivings from everyone, even herself.

After what was probably too many hugs goodbye, even for her, Adeline finally made her way back home with her new shoes. The moment she closed her door, she slumped against it and slid down to the floor, exhausted and terrified. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the look in Vitus’ eyes as he took his leave. She was no fighter! She had no money, no strength, no prospects- no hope. How could she possibly try to stand up to the army Vitus would surely bring back with him? And she couldn’t- wouldn’t- put her people in danger like this, not after they’d already done so much for her. That’s it, she thought, rubbing her eyes, she would go right back to the village and work something out with everyone else, something to keep everyone safe and out of harm’s way before Vitus could return.

But as she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell upon the shoe box, lying on the floor beside her. The shoes themselves had tumbled out from her little outburst, and they almost seemed to be calling to her, begging her to at least try them on, to dance in them. And after so much trouble, how could she possibly refuse?

The shoes were a perfect fit- of course they were, they were literally made for her, she thought as she snickered a little under her breath. Watching herself carefully in the mirror, she raised her right foot ever so slightly before kicking it forward in a test shuffle. She smiled. The sound of metal against the waxed wood floor was perfection. Unable to help herself, she hummed a little tune, matching each note with another step- a cramp roll here, a paradiddle there, a set of triple time steps- she was in her element as she lost herself to the dance.

Dancing in the shoes filled her with such joy that she really could almost forget about the whole thing with Vitus. Adeline knew he wouldn’t take this lying down, and with his power and resources- she knew she had to be prepared. First thing in the morning, I promise I’ll figure out a plan, she reasoned. It’s not as though he could even attack tonight anyway.

So she danced and danced and danced, until the day finally caught up with her, and she quite abruptly fell asleep, not even bothering to take off her new shoes.

That night, Adeline had the strangest dream. She- no, the whole town, was dancing to song unlike any she’d heard before. It almost… hurt, in a way, to listen to, and yet she was sure it was the most beautiful melody she had ever heard. It felt as though it had wormed its way into her soul, her very existence, and intertwined itself so deeply that it might never leave. For a moment, Adeline felt fear, the likes of which she’d never known. She tried to wake herself up, to scream for to someone to help her, to do something, anything to stop this, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop-

And then Calm washed over her completely, every other thought and sensation lost to the ocean of the strange melody as it lulled her back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, it was to find that the song had followed her into the waking world. She knew something was wrong, but as she tried to figure it out, every thought was just out of reach. She stumbled out of her room, towards the front door, but her limbs felt almost disconnected from her, almost as if they were being of their own. She slammed face-first into the door, and, for a split second, the ringing of her ears overpowered the music enough to. I need… help, right, that was it, I need help because of…

Because of……

The music, the music, the music- it consumed her every thought. Every step and every breath taken in time with that exquisite, unending song. Every note whispered sweet nothings in her ear, asking, pleading, begging her to join them and become beautiful too, until she was helpless to resist any longer. Until finally, she began to dance.

And dance, dear Reader, she did.

She found herself completely at the mercy of the music as it maneuvered her around like a marionette. She was only vaguely aware that she had somehow made it to the town square, and that several of her concerned neighbors were trying to talk to her, but nothing could break through the haze of the music.

As the day went on and on, passersby occasionally stopped to try to rouse her from her state, all to no avail. It seemed there was no way to reach her, and as night fell, they stopped trying. The light of the moons illuminated her as she danced, and were it not for the sound of the metal in her shoes they might have assumed her some dark spirit. Perhaps some still did. But the fact remains that all the townsfolk, save one, eventually found their way to sleep, secure in their ignorance of the events to come.

The next morning, as the suns rose over the horizon, the people of Strasbourg woke to the sight of not one, but two figures dancing in the square. By breakfast, it had been made a dozen. By lunch, it was nearly half the town. And by 8:46 pm, on the dot, all 398 residents of Strasbourg had found themselves unwilling victims of the dance.

Reader, there are many things I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you that the dancing stopped just as strangely and suddenly as it began, and it became a scary story told for many generations. Or else, I wish I could tell you that the townsfolk found a way to weaponize their dancing and rose up against Lord Vitus, and discovered the cause of their dance- a machine of Vitus’ cruel creation, designed to transmit an almost imperceptible signal into the minds of those who heard it and drive them to madness. Picture it now, Reader: Vitus, stroking a gloved hand down the side of the machine as its whistles blew and the steam that rose from the spouts shrieked, the sound of his dastardly laughter barely audible over the chaos, until it was suddenly cut short by the doors to the hall as they opened with a BANG, and Vitus would finally come face to face with the consequences of his actions.

But more than all that, I wish I could tell you Adeline never remembered what happened as she danced. That for the seven days and seven nights that she danced in the town square, without food, without water, without rest, she was never aware of the fact that everyone she had ever known lay dead or dying at her feet.

None of these things are true, of course. The dance continued, the machine was not destroyed, and as the days passed Adeline slowly became more and more conscious. She watched, helpless, as all around her, her friends, her family, fell to the ground to dance no more. She yelled, screamed, pleaded to anyone who would listen, to anyone who could help- and the only response she got was the answering cries of her village, getting smaller and smaller.

By the sixth day of the village’s dance, there was only one other person still dancing beside her. It was Fabien, because of course it was Fabien- she didn’t know if this was supposed to be a blessing or a curse, though she was leaning heavily towards the latter. His steps had been slowing and his wheezing had increased exponentially in the past few hours, and Adeline knew what was coming, even if she couldn’t bear to say it aloud. Fabien, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I did warn you,” he rasped, after a coughing fit had nearly sent Adeline into a heart attack of her own, “That I wouldn’t make it to your birthday. My heart is just so-”

“God, shut up, please, for once in your life just shut up!” She screamed, her voice breaking. Her outburst seemed to shock him, and she turned away before she could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath before barreling on.

“Fabien, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry, I should have-” he made a sharp noise and she cut herself off, choking back a sob.

“Don’t you dare think, for even a moment, that this is your fault,” he whispered, sounding more serious than she had ever heard him. “We all made our own decisions, you and me and everyone else. This is not on you, even a little bit. It was my choice, and I would choose it in a million lifetimes, okay? I just-” Fabien dropped to his knees, gasping, legs shaking almost imperceptibly, and Adeline felt her heart shatter.

“Addie, I’m so sorry,” his every word sounding like it had been ripped from his throat, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

And with that, he, too, was gone, and Adeline’s last remaining hope had died with him.

Oh Reader, what could she do but cry? So she cried. She cried for Fabien, for Monsieur LeClair, for Madame Beaumont, for Michel Rousseau, for Old Lady Coralie, for every lost soul of Strasbourg, until only one remained- and only then did she cry for herself, dancing alone once more.

The tears still streamed down her face when Lord Vitus returned with only a small squadron the next day, a full week after Adeline’s dance had begun. Towering over them from atop his horse, Vitus called out to his men.

“Oh ho, what have we here? An entire village, destroyed by some sort of plague, it seems. What a tragic end… But look! It seems one still suffers. Let us put the poor thing out of its misery, shall we?”

The largest of their number stepped forward, an axe readied in his hands. An executioner, Adeline realized tiredly. He made his way towards her, gingerly maneuvering around the corpses littering the town square, and Adeline wished she still had the strength to huff out a laugh. To show respect for the dead, on the path to kill another? How utterly ridiculous! Without a sound, the executioner raised his axe above his head, and Adeline closed her eyes, prepared to meet her end.

“Wait!” Vitus’ whining cut through the air. “Bring her to me first! She has something of mine that I want back.”

The executioner shrugged, before lunging towards the unsuspecting Adeline and hefting her over his shoulder with a grunt. She struggled against him, as much as one can struggle with a body that refuses to stop dancing, but it made no difference- he was simply too strong. Within moments, she was set down before Lord Vitus.

“The shoes,” he demanded. “Hand them over.”

“Are you kidding me? All of this for some shoes?” Adeline whispered hoarsely. “Hundreds of people, an entire town, dead, because you couldn’t stand the thought of someone else wearing these stupid fucking shoes?”

Vitus sneered at her. “On the contrary- I’m killing you because of the ‘stupid fucking shoes,’ as you’ve so crassly called them. Everyone else was… shall we say, collateral damage.”

Adeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her village, her friends, her family- they weren’t even some kind of fucked-up punishment for her, to drive her mad with grief and guilt. They were just “collateral damage,” not even worth an afterthought in the mind of their murderer. Her rage boiled inside of her, and had Adeline been able, she would have killed the man herself just then.

“Oh no, look!” Vitus sounded so genuinely miserable that for a moment Adeline was taken aback. “You’ve gone and ruined them!”

She glanced down as Vitus gestured towards her shoes and saw it was indeed true. The once-pristine white was long gone; now the leather was completely stained through by her own blood.

Reader, do you know what she did then? Why, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed, Reader. She laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, all her frustration and sorrow and fear and anger and fatigue welling up from within her as she faced this utterly ridiculous man. She laughed. And as Vitus’ disappointment turned to shock, then to an angry pout, she laughed even harder. Even the dance, for a moment, seemed to laugh with her, each shuffle taking on the tone of ha-ha, ha-ha.

Finally, Vitus had had enough. He struck her, clean across the face, and for a moment, the laughter ceased as she gasped in pain.

“You know, I think they look better this way,” she drawled after catching her breath. “The red really brings out my eyes.”

Lord Vitus, clearly having expected Adeline to fall to her knees and grovel for forgiveness (fat chance, she thought, even if I hadn’t been cursed), puffed up like a particularly unpleasant frog as he spluttered through some sort of retort. Even his stupid moustache seemed to puff up with him, Adeline noticed in tired amusement, as he finally settled on, “W-W-Well, I never!”

He turned away from her sharply and caught the eye of the executioner. Adeline’s stomach dropped as Vitus’ face returned to that arrogant smile. He looked back at her, malice gleaming in his eyes, and addressed her once more.

“I do soapologize, it seems that I have forgotten myself for a moment. I am, however, fully prepared to make it up to you. You see, I do, in fact, possess the antidote to your little ‘Dancing Plague,’ as it were, and I would be delighted to offer you the cure.”

Adeline couldn’t see it, but as she felt movement at her back, she knew what was about to happen. In one final act of defiance, she spat at Vitus, who squealed as he tried, and failed, to avoid it. He huffed once more as she laughed at him, before screeching his final command.

“A PERMANENT CURE!”

And with that, Adeline felt pain explode in her legs, near blinding in its intensity. For a moment, a scream overpowered the music, and it took a moment longer to realize the scream was her own. She blinked though unnoticed tears to look up -when had she fallen- at Vitus, but she couldn’t quite focus on him -or anything else. She felt so -tired sick- dizzy, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and –die- rest. But the pain in her legs screamed for her attention, and as she dragged herself up, she realized why.

At its simplest, a cure is just a way to remove a problem. It doesn’t need to be as advanced as a vaccine, or as complicated as the witches’ remedies of old. In fact, Lord Vitus’ antidote was both exceedingly simple and remarkably effective.

The permanent cure for the Dancing Plague? Simply remove the problem.

Namely, the legs.

How strange, she thought, in that last moment of lucidity, as she stared at the legs- her legs- lying on the ground a few feet away. I almost expected them to keep dancing.

And with that, she fell, lifeless, to the ground.

But Reader- she did not die.

[yuthoe]

Day 22: Reunion (MONSTA X: Yoo Kihyun)

TODAY'S LATE PROMPT FOR MTM IS:

Day 22: Fake Dating

ah yes, one of the favorite tropes in fanfic and i did not do it justice at all lmao. truthfully i was really excited about this, but the fic took a left somewhere and grew its own mind or smth. i think the poor writing is a combination of burnout and getting really distracted lmao.

tried to make kihyun the savage guy that he is, but still polite and considerate and i think i did that???? question mark???? please tell me what you thought about this lmao, i've never been to a high school reunion (except for my grandma's) and will never go to one anytime soon.

PAIRING: Yoo Kihyun x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff, mild angst. WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, swearing. WORD COUNT: 1,769.

---

“Act natural,” you say as you smooth down the lapels of your friend’s coat, dust some lint off the shoulders. “Like, just act like normal. We just have to say hi to a few people and then go after an hour or something.”

Kihyun is looking you over as well, straightening out the sleeves of your shirt and making sure your hair is nice and styled and perfect. “I’m taking that as a go signal to tease you in front of everyone then, gotcha.”

You roll your eyes and take his hand, tugging him towards the glass door of the events hall. “Very funny, but you know what? These people might buy it even more, so go ahead.”

He intertwines your fingers as he pushes the door open for you. There’s a smirk on his face that says you’re going to regret what you just said. “If you say so," he says, as you pull him along with you.

Everything is decorated like a senior prom from the early 2000s--balloons everywhere, streamers hung up on the walls, a disco ball suspended in the middle of the room. There's a stage set up at the far wall, and popular tracks from your high school days play softly on the sound system. People are already mingling, table hopping when they see a familiar face.

You go to the small registration booth off to the side, Kihyun in tow, and sign on the space next to your name, walking away quickly to find a table. It's easy to weave through the thin crowd to your spot, and thankfully no one goes up to talk to you as you settle in.

A relieved sigh escapes your lips as you deflate against the seat; Kihyun chuckles at the sight.

"Why are you so nervous? You were so confident when you asked me out,” he says, smirking at your flustered state.

“Hey,” you counter, sitting up straight and pointing at him. There’s a smile of embarrassment threatening to crawl up your face, but you force it down. “This isn’t a date. I didn’t ask you out—I respectfully asked if you could come with me to my high school reunion and pretend we’re dating. There’s a difference.”

He tilts his head and laughs. “Okay, fine, this isn’t a date. But you’re shaking like a hamster, dude. What’s got you so jittery?”

Before you can open your mouth to say something smart, a yell of your name behind you makes you stop. Suddenly a flurry of pink silk ruffles envelops you, cold metal bracelets press against your face and neck, and a tinnitus-inducing squeal is blasted in your ear.

“OMG, I can’t believe you made it!” The offending classmate plops down the seat beside you and… you can’t say you remember her. You know you have a questionable memory, but you can’t recall anyone with a scarily-toothy smile and long acrylic nails. “I was wondering if you were gonna show today, I missed you!”

You smile warily. “Yeah, I thought I’d stop by, just for a bi—,”

“And who is this with you?” she interrupts, gaze fixed on your friend now.

Kihyun still has a polite smile on, eyebrow raised and patiently waiting for you to introduce him. You meet his eyes and take a steadying breath.

“This is, uh. Kihyun. My boyfriend.”

Your batchmate immediately extends a hand out to him. “Hi there! I’m Danhee. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Kihyun grasps her hand and shakes it firmly. “Likewise.”

Danhee (apparently, that’s her name. Still doesn’t ring a bell.) turns back to you, props an elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand. “So what have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, you know, nothing much,” you say, twiddling your thumbs under the table. “Work’s keeping me busy, mostly. It’s pretty—,”

“Great! How’d you two meet?” Her eyes are sparkling, in that menacing way you’re familiar with when someone is hunting for gossip. “Probably work, right? I know Y/N isn’t that outgoing so I doubt—,”

“You know what, I’m gonna go get a drink.” You turn to Kihyun, desperate to get away. “You want a drink, Kihyun? Cool, I’ll get you something.” The chair screeches as you push away from the table and make a beeline for the buffet.

The air conditioning helps cool down your flaming face as you leave to get some reprieve from the suffocating air of the table. No matter how much you wrack your brain you can’t seem to remember anyone named Danhee; maybe she was in another class and part of the popular clique, a group you tended to stay away from.

You take a deep breath, surveying the array of finger food and wonder briefly what the main dishes are. The arrangement is no different from the ones you’ve seen at company parties—save maybe for the small picket signs that have slang from your high school days speared into some of the food. Despite looking delicious, you feel nauseous at the thought of taking a bite.

The drinks corner offers coffee, the kind that tries to pass off as Americano but ends up tasting more like candy because people keep putting too much sugar in it. It’s what you and Kihyun call “conference coffee” and shit on for the entirety of the conference you’re attending, even as you keep drinking it because there’s usually no other choice. Water is an option, as well as a fruit punch of some kind. If you’re being honest, you’d really like a beer right now, but you know the alcohol won’t come out until later.

In addition to the mound of paperwork you forced yourself to finish earlier, this week has just been plain exhausting. You’d hoped that coming to the reunion would help you relax, but apparently not.

Ice cubes clink as they go down the tall glasses. The coffee, however sugary it turns out to be, still smells heavenly and wakes you up some. You water both servings down a bit, if only to tamp down the syrupy sweetness.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. Kihyun moves into your line of vision, brows slightly scrunched. “You okay there?”

You don’t answer, thinking of words to say that won’t make you look pathetic in front of your work partner. You’re usually great at explaining and justifying your actions to your superiors, but words fail you this time.

So you just shrug and hand him his drink. “Can’t say for sure.” You take a sip and cringe; your mouth feels like it’s coated in a thick layer of sugar. Kihyun watches you and decides wisely to put his drink down, but pours two glasses of water.

“Do you know her?” he asks, concentrating on the drinks.

“Danhee? Nah. I mostly avoided her type back then. Being around them made me uncomfy.”

“‘Cuz she looks like a part of the Plastics from Mean Girls?”

You scoff. “No,” you say, but smile all the same as you walk back to your table. “Because I was a loner and operated on the mindset of ‘I’m not like other girls’ throughout high school.”

Kihyun laughs loud. “God, I didn’t think you were the type.”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” You sigh as you sit back down. “Thankfully outgrew that in college, though. Turns out being surrounded with a lot of open-minded people does something to your personality, and,” you open your arms, presenting yourself to Kihyun’s amused smile. “Now you have me, your beloved hardworking partner that throws snark at you everyday.”

If anything, his grin gets wider. Kihyun raises his glass of water, and you toast. “I’m proud of you for becoming so mature.” He takes a drink, making faces like he’s downing whiskey instead of regular water. “Although, apparently not mature enough to just ask me out plain and simple.”

You want to strangle him, you really do.

He’s right, though. Part of the reason why you invited him as your plus one is for moral support and to show people that the wallflower can also nab a man as great as Kihyun. But the other reason is that you’ve wanted to ask Kihyun on a date, but just didn’t know how to without embarrassing yourself.

You sigh and take a swig of your water. “Yeah, well, can you blame me, though? We always keep professional at work and I barely see you outside the building, so I haven’t really gotten a chance to ask.” You’re not lying—Kihyun being here is only possible because you left the building at the same time last week and asked him then before you chickened out.

He tilts his head in assent and takes another sip before crossing his arms on the table to whisper at you. “How about we make this a date, then?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling like you can’t believe he suggested such a ridiculous thing. “What—here? My high school reunion that I only invited you to because I didn’t want to be alone?”

And maybe it’s the trick of the light, but you think you see his eyes go soft. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not ideal, but we’re here anyway. There’s free food, shitty coffee, and some entertainment.” He tilts his head to the stage, and you follow his gaze to where a couple of your batchmates are discussing something, mics in their hands. “Whether it’s the good kind of entertainment or the cringy kind though, we’ll find out soon,” you hear him whisper.

In theory, you have nothing to lose. Nothing really to hide. Perhaps the worst part of the night passed when you had that panicked moment with Danhee earlier, and all that’s left is to enjoy the night. You can still leave in an hour or two like you planned, but now with a higher chance of getting a few drinks afterwards, too.

So you make your decision and look back at him. “All right, Yoo Kihyun,” you say. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

His smile morphs into a smirk, the trademark confident grin making a small shudder run down your spine. You try to keep your composure as he slides a hand to your thigh. “Perfect. Wanna bet you’ll last an hour before you want to leave?” His fingers are massaging your knee, soft hands gentle on the meat of your thigh.

You scoff, grabbing at his hand to make him stop. “Deal. I’ll bet you an hour and a half.”

And before you turn your attention back to the stage, you see his smirk again, excited for the challenge.

[beyscape]

Secrets - 2

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: You hid your pregnancy form your ex-boyfriend, Ransom, and managed to keep your secret hidden for six years. What you didn’t know was, how secrets have a way of revealing themselves.

Word Count: 3564

Warnings: just some swearing

A/N: I really just used this chapter as an excuse to rewatch Knives Out huh

Part 1   Part 2    Part 3

Your “little” secret, the one you had tried your very best to keep hidden, was out. There was no running away now, no amount of lying would save you out of the confrontation that was headed your way. And believe me, you had tried to come up with something, fabricate a lie that would give you enough time to pack up and leave with your little girl. You cursed yourself for believing the bullshit of hiding in plain sight. The only lie you had come up with was maybe tell Ransom you cheated on him, but there was no way he would believe that after you nearly had a full breakdown upon running into him. That, and of course the little matter of Mary looking near identical to Ransom.

  You paced back and forth all around the living room, careful as to not step on any of the toys scattered around. Or the damn Legos. Your eyes drifted towards the clock on the wall, obsessively checking the time every few minutes. Knowing the whole ordeal wouldn’t be okay for a little child to witness, you had remembered to text Ransom to meet some time after ten, when Mary was safely tucked away in her bed. You just prayed he would be able to keep his voice down enough for her to stay that way, but you were that most likely wouldn’t be the case with Ransom. After all, he had a flair for the dramatic. The sound of a car door snapped you out of trance, you ran to open the door before he had a chance to ring the bell.

  Throwing open the door with your heart just about beating in your throat, you saw him. He looked the same more or less, aside from the slight creases you spotted forming on his forehead. He still was the man you once had loved despite everything and everyone. Loved, as in past tense. Because you totally were over him and had been for a while now. You had more important things to consider, a daughter to think of. You were a fool for falling in love with Ransom Drysdale, but those days were gone. You gestured for him to come in, unable to meet his eyes properly.

  He looked around the living room, it was small by his standards of being raised in fortune. His gaze drifting from the toys all around to the pictures on the walls, there were plenty of Mary’s baby photos that Ransom remained focused for a full minute. You exhaled slowly, the bundle of nerves knotting in the pit of your stomach. He finally looked at you. You raised a hand.

“Before we begin this… discussion, Mary’s sleeping upstairs so I’m asking you to keep your voice down.” You sat on the loveseat, motioning for him to take the armchair across you. Ransom’s eyes flicked towards the stairs for a split second. He sat down, not even bothering to take off his coat.

  “I can’t believe you.” The words came out of his mouth slowly, accusingly. Maybe you deserved it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t just say you’re sorry. How could you hide this from me? I get why you hate me and I don’t care but how could you keep my daughter away from me, all these years? What if I hadn’t decided to stop at a random grocery store, then what? Were you ever planning to tell me?” Ransom spitted out, a kind of fire that you never saw before flicked in his eyes. You were too familiar with angry Ransom, but not this one. Not like this.

  “Ransom, I don’t hate you but you have to understand, you’re not exactly cut out to be a father. And we didn’t exactly part on good terms. I wasn’t about to put my child through that.” You felt bad, for not allowing Mary to meet her dad, for not allowing Ransom to bond with his daughter, but at the end f the day you had made a decision. You had made your bed, now might as well lie in it.

  A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “You don’t know that.” You noted the slight falter of his voice. “Just because my parents fucked me up doesn’t mean that I would be a bad father. Hell, Y/N, you never even gave me the option.” He shook his head, his disheveled hair swaying along.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

You opened your mouth to apologize again almost instinctively, but stopped. Straining your ears, you recognized the familiar pitter patter of a pair of small feet coming down the stairs. Mary stood on the last step of the stairs; her bunny clutched between her arms. She looked between you and Ransom through her long lashes, yet another thing she inherited from her dad. Ransom shot to his feet.

“Hey honey, what’s wrong? Let’s get you tucked back in.” You rose form where you sat and headed towards the little figure after sending Ransom a warning look. It would have to wait.

 You picked up Mary with no protest on her part, the mop of tangled blonde hair resting against your shoulder as you carried her upstairs. You saw Ransom follow you quietly from the corner of your eye, his thin coat now left discarded on the couch. Entering the small room that matched the state of the living room with the toy situation, you turned on the nightlamp, casting soft purple hues on your faces. Mary was already practically asleep as you gently placed her down, pulling the covers over her small frame. You placed a small kiss on her forehead.

 Ransom watched this whole scene unfold in front of him from the doorway as he leaned on it, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. There was this weird sensation, this warmth in his chest that sent every part of his mind into a confused and slightly panicked state. He had never in a million years thought he would have a child, let alone feel whatever he was feeling towards that child. In a way, he knew you were right. He wasn’t made for being a father, and he originally had no desire of ever staring a family when the one he grew up in was such a hot mess. But now, this child had appeared out of pure luck in his life and he felt a tug towards her. To give her what he never got from his parents.

 If someone had told Ransom the feelings he would have as he watched the woman he loved tuck in their daughter, he would have told them to fuck off. That it wasn’t funny. Indeed, it wasn’t, Ransom couldn’t even make fun of this dumbfounded state he was in.

After you were sure Mary was completely asleep, you got up as slowly as you could to not disturb her. Ransom followed you back to the living room. You took your previous positions, the tense air almost giving you a headache.

 “I’m in.” He spoke after a while, breaking the silence with soft words. His blue eyes rose to yours.

 You shook your head. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

 “I-”

  “No, listen to me,” you cut off, “this isn’t something you just get to decide on a whim. This is an actual human child, who has feelings and all, not some toy that piques your interest. Once you are in you’re in for life. No take backs.” You whisper-shouted, not trusting that Ransom was aware of all the responsibility parenthood brings.

 “You listen to me.” He pointed a finger at you. “It was you who broke up with me, and it was you who couldn’t even be bothered with a call to let me know you were pregnant with our child, Y/N. I fucking know that there are no take backs. But you should have given me the choice of whether I wanted to be a father or not.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I would have been in from the very start.”

 You leaned back, his words hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Didn’t seem like you cared much about me,  you were seen with that model barely two weeks after we broke up.” You shot back weakly, the hurt feelings of that time washing over you.

 He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Believe it or not, nothing happened with her. It was just a show. I have a reputation, dear Y/N.” A cruel smirk appeared on his face for a quick second before disappearing. “In fact, nothing happened with anyone since you dumped me. Sure, sex here and there but,” he shrugged, “I cared.” Ransom tried his best to act nonchalant, to keep up his image, but couldn’t help the words that slipped out. He was surprised at himself, how easily he was talking about his feelings, but a distant part of him still remembered how simple it was for him to talk to you.

Doubt still lingered in your eyes, finding it hard to believe his words. Ransom always had a way with words. This was the man who never even could bring himself to utter the words ‘I love you’ and yet here he was, talking about how he cared and all. You shook your head.

“Now I know you had my number, you could have called if you cared.”

“Seriously, Y/N?” I’m sorry for honoring your wish of,” he mused, tapping his chin in mock thought, “what was it? Ah yes, never wanting to see my jerk face again.” His lips smiled but his eyes remained cold as ice.

 “Ransom.” You pleaded, the heartbreak from over six years ago felt as if it was just yesterday, you felt your chest tighten. He watched your face intently.

“You wanna know I never called? Or tried to get back together?” He got up, pacing along the room. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m not stupid. I always knew you deserved much better than me. It didn’t matter how I felt or whether I missed you or not, I knew you would be better off.” He stopped in front of the biggest picture on the wall. It was a picture taken on Mary’s first birthday, showed her trying to blow off the candles while you held her on your lap, smiles on everyone in the picture. His jaw tightened.

He tilted his head. “Now you know.” He muttered, quiet. Almost… sad.

“Can you, from the bottom of your heart, promise me? That you’ll be here.” The lump formed in your throat made it hard to get the words out, you couldn’t believe this was happening. In the hours you spent pacing and imagining how the conversation would go, this turn of events was the last thing you thought was possible. You thought you knew Ransom, you probably knew him the best, but you couldn’t recognize the man standing just a few feet in front of you, his eyes still fixed on the frame.

“I know I was a dick and hell, I still am. But,” he finally looked at you, “I promise. I promise to be here and do my damn best for Mary… and for you.” His voice trembled ever so slightly, never could you remember seeing Ransom like this. Not once in those two years you knew him. You stood up; shoulders slumped and tears prickling your eyes, threating to spill at any moment. You stopped barely a step before him.

Neither of you dared to move as you stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation taking place and making up for the lost years. You never realized how much you had missed him. You reached up to stroke his face, your fingers aching to touch him, to feel him. Your fingertips glided over his clean-shaven jaw; Ransom closed his eyes at your touch. You gulped, dropping your hand to rest on his chest, not daring to do more. His hand came to rest above yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

“I’m here, Y/N. I swear.” His words heavy on his whispering lips, he gently tilted your face to meet your eyes. He chuckled softly upon seeing the tears welling up in your eyes. “Why the tears?”

“Shut up.” You sniffled. “I… I wanted to tell you Ransom. But I wasn’t sure if— if you’d want this. Or if you would end up hating me more. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could handle that.”

“I understand.”

“And with your family too, even the thought of dealing with them just gives me a headache. Though I guess it’s unavoidable now.”

He groaned, a deep sound of annoyance from the back of his throat. “Those people can eat shit, they’re not coming remotely close to Mary.”

“Your mom wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t tell her. Or Harlan.” You mused; he knew you were right. He still hated the thought.

“Let’s not think about them right now.” You were suddenly too aware of the closeness, of the placement of his hands, the familiar touch sending tingles down your spine.

“Yeah? What should we think of then?”

He just gave you a look before leaning in and kissing you. Maybe thousands of times he had kissed you before, you would think you would be used to it by now, yet it felt so new, so unfamiliar due to the time apart. Your heart leapt out of your chest, beating wildly, your whole body cursing you for not reaching out sooner. The feelings you had done your best to tame snapped out of their cages at that moment, never to be trapped again. You deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I missed you, angel.” He pulled back; his words barely audible.

“We have a lot to talk about, Ransom.” You met his gaze, reluctant. You lead him by the hand towards the loveseat. You both sat, holding each other close, not ready to let go yet.

“First, there is the matter of introducing you to Mary. Properly, I mean.” You sighed.

“Has she ever asked about me?”

You bit your lip at the memory. “Once. A couple of months ago, we were watching some Disney movie when she asked me why she didn’t have dad. I just told her you were away. She never asked again.” You remembered the shake of your hands when Mary asked you that question, looking at you with wide blue eyes. You remembered the whirl of your mind as you quickly tried to figure out what to say. You remembered sobbing quietly into your pillow when Mary was finally asleep that night.

You looked at Ransom. “It was so, so hard.”

“If you had only told me.”

“I know.” Your eyes fell on one of the dolls laying on the floor. “Should we talk to a therapist?”

Ransom scoffed. You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m just wondering out loud. No need for the attitude.”

“I should just meet her. I don’t know, play with her. I wanna get to know her, Y/N.”

“She’s a great kid. She’s… a lot like you, and not just the looks. Wicked smart, and has the sweetest heart. Her current favorite animal is bunnies, she is very excited to start school next semester and she will talk about that for hours.” You laughed. “She hates carrots, and is allergic to strawberries. You can pretty much bribe her to do anything with chocolate chip cookies. You’ll love her.”

“I already love her. She’s my kid.” A genuine grin spread on his handsome face.

You talked for hours on that couch, with mostly you doing the talking. Ransom wanted to know everything he could, from her first words to her entire list of likes and disliked. Your heart swelled at his interest and the way he kept asking you questions.

It was a little after the clock struck one and a million yawns from you, Ransom got up.

“You should sleep.” He grabbed his coat.

“Would you… like to stay over?” You pressed your lips together.

Ransom smirked. “Day one and you’re already trying to get me into your bed? Wow, Y/N.”

“Not like that,” you huffed, “we don’t have a guestroom but the couch’s pretty comfortable.”

He flashed you a smile. “Where are the sheets?”

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

 After a night filled with tossing and turning brought by the fact that Ransom freaking Drysdale was sleeping on your couch downstairs, you opened your eyes to the sun filtering through your window. It wasn’t the sun, however, that woke you from your dreamless sleep, it was the smell. You followed it down and into the kitchen, confused, and came to a halt at the scene in front of you.

 The cabinets were open, and the sweet smell was stronger, but the strangest thing bay far was how Ransom was standing in front of the stove.

“Are you cooking?” You rubbed your eyes, making sure you weren’t still asleep.

“Pancakes,” he showed you the box, “you said it’s Mary’s favourite breakfast.” Ransom flashed you a smile. “Cute PJs.”

“How come I never once saw you cook before? Fatherhood really changes a man.” He chuckled as he flipped the pancake. You could get used to this. Ransom turned to you to say something before his attention turned to a spot behind you, eyes slightly wide. You turned to look, and saw Mary to no surprise.

The little girl focused on Ransom, striding towards him with determination.

“Are you my dad?” She looked up to him, her words sending Ransom into a coughing fit.

“What? Mary, honey, what makes you say that?” You gulped, rushing to her side before kneeling down.

“He looks like me.” She shrugged at you and turned back to Ransom. “Are you?” her eyebrows raised; she crossed her arms. Ransom kneeled as well; every move uncertain. Nervous. He looked at you. You gave him a slight nod, might as well tell her.

“Yes.” He nodded. Mary squinted her eyes at him, before nodding back. Her serious face broke into a smile before she leapt forward, her small arms tightening around Ransom’s neck. He swayed back at the surprising force, his wide eyes snapping to yours. After a moment of shock, he hesitantly hugged her back, his hands ever so gentle on her back. Pulling yourself up, you moved towards the window, not wanting for either of them to see the tears in your eyes.

Six years, you had secretly let yourself imagine this exact moment. In those rare instances you allowed your mind to wander over the possible scenarios, one question would repeat in your mind. How would Mary react? Would she be distant, angry? Would she cry? Be disappointed? Hate you for not telling her sooner? Would she even want to meet her dad? You would agonize over these unanswered questions time and time, the whole thing feeling too far away sometimes. Yet here it was, right in front of you, all of your questions answered. The smell of burning snapped you out of the moment.

“Shi—shoot.” Ransom pulled back, mad at the pancake for breaking the moment. Mary gasped.

“Pancakes! I’ll go get Mr. Chuckles!” She darted out, leaving a bewildered Ransom behind. He turned to you.

“That went better than I thought.” He shook his head, swallowing, he was slightly ashamed of the tears in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice quiet, your smile small.

Mary was back in a second, excitedly babbling about how much she loved pancakes and how waffles were a close second. Ransom flashed her a smile, his eyes twinkling with pride. You grabbed plates and set the table, stealing glances at Mary’s happy face and the identical look on Ransom’s. Your family.

“But daddy,” she turned to Ransom, whose heart skipped a beat at the word, “where were you?”

Your mouth fell open. “Honey—”

“I was away.” Ransom cut you. “But I’m here now, princess. And I swear I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned at his gentle but reassuring words, satisfied.

“Okay. Oh! You have to meet my toys!” She rose up, ready to take him up to her room and make sure he memories all the names of her toys.

“How about you finish your breakfast first?” You motioned at the untouched stack of pancakes sitting in front of her.

Rest of the breakfast was filled with Mary talking to Ransom between bites of pancakes, asking him a ton of questions and grinning. Ransom’s gaze never faltered away, he listened to all of her ramblings and answered every question. You watched the two of them, unsure whether to be amazed at Mary’s excitement or this shift in Ransom’s character. Where was the man who drove you up the walls? Where was the cocky, selfish jerk everyone knew him to be? He turned his gaze to you upon feeling you stare, winking you before turning back to your daughter.

All the baggage, all the worry you carried within you melted away, leaving no trace behind. For the first time in six years, you felt yourself completely relax.

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

Sorry for any mistakes, I was super excited to post this so I might have missed some stuff. A thrid part might come if you guys are interested 👀

SECRETS TAGLIST @helenaeisenhower​ @the-best-third-wheel-ever​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @buckyshattergirl​ @lover1307​ @selluequestrian​ @run-through-wa11s @monotoneaudio​ @cap-just-said-language​

CHRIS EVANS TAGLIST @marvelouspottering​ @kelbabyblue​

[justgenshinstuf]

hiii! can i request hcs for diluc, zhongli and childe on how they would confess to reader who likes them too but is really oblivious? HAHA thank you! ^^

Thank you for hc request! Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy :3

Confession Headcanons

He takes a long time to come to terms with his feelings for you. Almost like 7 stages of grief.

At first he thought it was just a passing interest, then he tried to convince himself being friends is enough for him to feel happy. The more time you’d spent together, the more he realised he is absolutely addicted.

It soon became impossible for him to keep it all to himself. The way his heart was beating faster when he sees you, how his legs became weak, how he couldn’t help but think about what you’ve been up to during his work hours, how he wished to have you by his side on nightly vigilante missions.

He was scared to death of making a confession, no enemy could possibly make him this terrified.  He would’ve never built up his courage if not for the fact that he couldn’t look at you anymore without thoughts of getting closer, touching, embracing. It was like a progressing illness.

He realised how lonely he was without you. You managed to make him so happy but so scared at the same time, afraid he’ll never have a chance to bathe in your otherworldly light, to be worthy of your love.

He’d made battling darkness alone his only life goal, but now he was attracted to the light and might burn to ashes because of it.

On one of the ordinary days he just spits it out. After the sleepless night of thinking and pacing around his room the only thing he was able to say to your face was a plain and simple «I think I love you, y/n». No words could possibly describe how he truly feels about you. He just didn’t know how to present it no matter how much time he’d spent thinking, and now a choking feeling in his throat was leaving him completely voiceless.

You wouldn’t get it at first. Have you herd him right? This can’t be it. You’d never even considered Diluc liking you back, like, in more than friends way. You’d love to hear those words from him, but this was just too good to be true, right?

When you awkwardly said he is your best teammate ever too, you could almost see all the colour disappear from his face. Something clicked and those rusty wheels in your head finally started turning. You couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth with both your hands.

«Wait! No no no, you mean love like in IN love?!»

You suddenly felt a whole range of different emotions from wild excitement to gravely embarrassment. Unable to stay still, you rushed to grab Diluc’s hands in yours, tightly squeezing his thick gloves. At that moment you could feel him shacking a bit.

«Forget what I’ve said! Let’s do this again!» You took a deep breath before reassuring Diluc you actually love him back. You then froze in place with your eyes shut, still grabbing onto his hands, slowly turning red enough to match your beloved one’s hair.

Diluc could barely hear you over the thudding in his temples. His hands felt numb from your touch, that choking feeling in his throat suddenly started growing stronger. In a sharp move he put you in a tight embrace, pressing his lips against the top of your head, so tight, like he wanted you to merge into one.

You could now feel his irregular warmth with your whole body, hear his heart racing. «Sorry for acting dumb». You quietly muttered into his chest.

You couldn’t possibly see his eyes getting a bit watery and decided to pretend you hadn’t noticed his voice being shaky as he gently murmured: «I’m so happy right now, you have no idea».

He’d never experienced something quite like that before, but now, when he was finally free from his archon duties and could pay more attention to his feeling and relationships, he came to a surprising realisation.

For some reason he couldn’t quite understand, he could feel closer to you than anybody else he’d met. Maybe it was the fact you come from another world and he is an ex-archon in retirement?

This feeling was truly beyond his reach, but now there was no time to waste. Something this important should be handled the proper way. He wasn’t fully convinced you were a perfect match for each other, but in his idea it wouldn’t be fair to keep you in the dark about his feelings for you.

Years spent observing common folk and breathing with the culture of Liyue had certainly taught Zhongli something about how mortals handle this thing they call love, but he still felt a bit lost. He needed to learn more, to understand better, this was no place for stupid mistakes.

That one special evening he invited you to an opera, it was an outstanding performance of a famous Liyue singer. You were a bit nervous, it seemed almost like a date for some reason, and Zhongli seemed more elegant and suave than you’d previously noticed.

After that he invited you to his place for a dinner. You joked a little about him not having enough mora to feed both of you to hide your embarrassment. Rendezvous with Zhongli have alway felt so thrilling. His stoic and a bit mysterious presence made your thoughts fly apart.

He just laughed (oh, that beautiful voice) and said it was a special occasion. The suspense was killing you, was he really enjoying your company that much to prepare some kind of a surprise?

When he opened a door for you to enter, you were immediately blown away by the sight of the room alone. Decorated with beautiful flowers, and even a few Glaze Lillys, it was illuminated with multiple candles, which emitted a pleasant and calming odour. The table was served with probably a bit too many dishes for both of you, all of which looked more like hyper-realistic models of food straight from the pictures.

Frozen in place from shock, observing all the beauty in front of you, for a moment you felt like you entered the pages of a romantic novel (or maybe one of your wettest dreams, could be both). Before you could even articulate a question about the occasion, Zhongli lowered in front of you, looking straight into your eyes.

He gently put a beautiful antique comb incrusted with jades into your hand. «Please, accept this little gift as a sign of my upmost adoration». It was hard to maintain eye contact when he looked straight at you with such a serious expression, so you shifted your gaze, fixating on your small hand in his.

«For a long time now I wanted to make a confession. I feel like I am in love with you, y/n». He tightened his grip on your now shaky hand for a brief second before letting go. «Don’t worry, I understand it might not be mutual. I thought it would be fair to not hide something like th…»

You didn’t give him a chance to finish, putting your hand on his cheek, still holding his beautiful gift in another. The last thing you saw were his light pupils growing wider in surprise when you pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. «I think I love you too».

Now the tables have turned and Zhongli became the one flustered and lost, before he blessed you with a rare sight of him genuinely smiling.

«You never cease to amaze me, traveler from another world».

He knew you liked him before you could even admit it to yourself, this proud and self-confident rascal. He was perfectly aware no one can resist his teasingly flirty charm.

For some reason he completely missed the moment he started falling for you too. When did the fact you are his opponent became more important than the thrill of a friendly combat? Your wit, your grace, your unthinkable power, it suddenly blew the poor boy away.

Tartaglia became more and more serious during your time together, joking less, being lost in thoughts more, making dumb mistakes during battles. The fact he couldn’t come up with a good way to ask you out frustrated him. He couldn’t even fight properly, for archons’ sake, what is this?

It was his first time finding such interest in something besides being a ruthless warrior. One day he strives to conquer the world and now he is worried to ask you out. Pathetic.

He wanted to make it a casual, but decent confession, something worthy of you. But it still made him nervous. Did all-mighty Fatui Harbinger feel suddenly insecure? Would someone like you even want to date him after he’d been such an ass? Did you really like him back, or did he make it all up in his head to boost his ego?

He couldn’t take it much longer before he decided to approach the situation head-on. No time for this lovesick mess.

Childe surprised you with his sudden appearance from behind, putting a little white flower into your hair. «Hey~ looking pretty today! Care to go for a stroll with your favourite Harbinger?»

Seeing him always made you smile, but you didn’t have time for a sparring session today. You tried to politely decline his offer, but he reassured you it had nothing to do with fighting this time.

One awkward moment of silence later he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. You noticed he was holding something behind his back.

«I bought you a little something. It’s a gift and… I think it should match you perfectly».

He pulled out a shiny ring sitting in a little box, a pinky blush slowly started covering his face. He was swaying around a bit while staying in place, not even hiding his nervousness anymore.

«I wanted to tell you that… Well I kind of… I really like you, y/n. Will you go out with me?»

He laughed a bit again, before realising you were shooting a deadly gaze at him. Almost like during mid-combat, when you are almost ready to murder him.

«You think this is funny?»  You were so pissed you could barely keep your voice down. «I don’t have time for your stupid pranks!»

Oh, poor soul, you were convinced he was just messing with you again. No way someone like Childe could be serious about something like this. And even the ring? The audacity!

«Oi, wait, I’m serious!» He rushed to grab your arm before you could turn away to leave. «I don’t even want to fight you anymore. I know I look stupid right now, but thats how I really feel. I want you! I don’t know how to do this properly, but, please, just hear me out!»

Something in the tone of his voice finally convinced you this was sincere. A playful smile crossed your lips when you grabbed him back by his jacket.

«So, does this mean you accept your defeat?» His face being almost red now made you giggle.

«No, I’m taking the first prize!» Tartaglia quickly retorted, gaining his confidence back. He picked you up from the ground and started spinning you around a bit, both of you laughing.

«Seriously, I love you, y/n». He whispered quietly, snuggling you closer to him.

[babytsum]

wanna be - m. atsumu

friends to lovers atsumu fluff because i said so.

warnings: none, just unedited so might be a lil sloppy lol, mention of konoha x reader (they go on like one date)

word count: 3.5k

wanna be by the internet (2018)

he remembers you from onigiri miya.

your baggy jeans, loose t shirt, eyebags. he remembers it all down to the way you stuffed your face with onigiris to the neon lights the shined outside. you were pretty, but he was indifferent. after all, he was miya atsumu, a player both on and off the court.

to you, he was miya atsumu, osamu's brother. and miya osamu was simply a friend who owned a restaurant and understood the crushing pressure of being a student with a part time job that struggled to pay rent. besides, one day you'd pay him back because you were one smart cookie, though he didn't know in what way. however, he did notice how atsumu made an effort to avoid eye contact while you introduced yourself. he didn't miss the color that made its way to his cheeks when you held your hand out for him to shake.

and he sees you again waiting outside his team's gym after practice.

that day, your hair was tied back. you wore a long coat that went down to your calves and loose black clothing under it. did you always wear loose clothes? you smiled and waved in his direction and his heart skipped a beat. he waved back excitedly until he turned around and saw hinata jumping up and down at the sight of your happy self. turns out, you were karasuno's manager in high school. atsumu, usually confident and cheerful, now sunk into his sweater while his teammate introduced you to the rest of the group.

"i know atsumu. i met him at onigiri miya a few weeks ago."

he nodded as you spoke. he barely knew you, but your presence had a significant effect on him, one that was beyond what he can describe.

so maybe he goes over to his brother's restaurant more, once or twice a week.

"so, how do you know hinata?" stupid question. hinata literally told everyone like a week ago.

"i went to karasuno and became the team manager for their volleyball team," you answered anyways, how sweet of you, "i actually got to see you and osamu play at nationals. that's where i first met him."

all of the sudden, atsumu wishes that he paid more attention to the pretty managers of the opposing teams. although, he does thank whatever higher power is out there that he got to meet you at some point and curses osamu for not telling him about you at all.

"i didn't know you knew (y/n) in high school."

"what do you mean?"

"i just didn't know that she was a team manager and all that, you know? i feel kind of bad for not knowing she existed."

"oh she definitely existed. who do you think i made extra bento boxes for when we went to tokyo?"

"those weren't mine?"

hinata invites you to watch him practice and he doesn't know if its a curse or a blessing.

on the one hand, you can see all of his talented sets and gameplay. on the other, he usually reached peak idiot during practices, at least that's what sakusa would tell him.

that's not going to stop you from sitting down and letting out a cheer for hinata's, and even bokuto's, spikes. you knew that shoyo and kotaro loved the support they got. it gave them motivation, made them perform better. of course, the team wouldn't mind that.

atsumu just wishes he got a few cheers or smiles from you.

the next time you see him, he's sucking face with some hot model with a drink in hand at a party that shoyo brought you to. you weren't surprised. you were close enough to osamu to hear him rant about his brothers antics, so you brush it off like usual when seeing two people getting a little busy. after all, you were here to take a break from studying

by the middle of the party, you're tipsy and cheering on bokuto who was shaking ass to hot girl summer. hinata is passed out on the couch in a fetal position while kageyama sits down and stuffs his face with rice. osamu joins him and witnesses the mess that is you and bokuto. atsumu looks disheveled and everyone already knows why, all of you just hope that the room he went to earlier was not the master bedroom.

"tsumuuuuu," you slurred as you spoke, a happy smile plastered on your face, "you're a manwhoreeeeee."

"what?"

"i'm joking, but also not," you kissed the tip of his nose, "you're a very nice boy."

he didn't know whether to be offended or flustered, especially with the combination of your little antics and the alcohol in his system, which only resulted in a strong of incoherent words that entertained osamu.

"man, i really wish you met her in high school. she was way worse." kageyama added, memories of you blatantly flirting with your close friends for fun.

"she really was. i believe the first thing she ever said to suna was 'holy fuck, how do you look so fucking hot while shoving those jelly sticks in your mouth?'" osamu laughed, the image of his teammate's red face playing in his mind, "the (y/n) you know is more tame, a stressed college student with a low alcohol tolerance."

you gave bokuto's ass another smack as you giggled at the way his ass jiggled. having athletic friends is fun, especially when the stress from your graduate studies needs to be relieved and their pro player money literally prevents you from paying for your own food. you were lucky.

the day after, you drive to the gym you knew they would be practicing at. of course, sakusa had the common sense to not drink the night before practice. his other three teammates did not.

atsumu is the first one to spot you, a big bag in hand, your hair tied back, another pair of loose jeans and a plain t shirt. it's more different from the flattering plants and small top you wore last night, but he wonders how you can look like this after a night of drunken fun. it was almost like you were glowing.

hinata greeted you first, taking your bag and thanking you for the food.

"are your heads okay?"

"i think i died last night."

"you die every time there's alcohol at a party, shoyo."

"hey!"

sakusa snickered while the rest tried their best to hide their laughs. you weren't wrong, though. shoyo does end up passing out on someone's couch after some energetic dancing.

"what about you, tsumu?"

"i don't remember anything that happened except for bo's ass."

"not even the hot blonde girl?"

"the what?" again, everyone failed to contain their laughs.

"you manwhore!" you chuckled, handing him his bento box.

"you should have seen how red he got when you kissed his nose!" bokuto chimed in.

"i did that?" your smile faded, "sorry, if i made you uncomfortable, tsumu."

"it's okay, i don't remember it." he lied.

the memory replayed in his mind again and a foreign feeling came over him. it was warm.

the next time he sees you, you're at osamu's house to taste test his new food. it's osamu's classic duo, his dear brother that loves to freeload off of him and his stressed grad student friend who also likes free food.

when atsumu walks in, you motion for him to sit next to you while stuffing your face. you're wearing baggy clothes again and he's pretty sure that you slept with your makeup still on from the night before.

"osamu, if you keep cooking like this, i think i might marry you."

"gross."

"what's gross about marrying the hotter twin?" you turned to atsumu, a smirk on your face.

"we look exactly alike."

"yeah, but he cooks."

atsumu couldn't argue with that. you were funny. you were always funny and warm even when talking down to him like this. and it made his heart beat faster, his face a little redder, his smile a little brighter.

fuck.

"i can cook."

"yeah, a pack of cup noodles." osamu responded while you chuckled in agreement.

"they're some fire ass cup noodles."

"yeah okay, playboy."

"playboy?"

"do you prefer manwhore?"

"no."

you throw your head back, laughing again at atsumu's expression. for someone who fucks around, he was easy to fluster. and you enjoyed it every time. the way he would look down in an attempt to hide his crimson cheeks, the slight smile that would rest in his face. he was pretty.

it all confirmed osamu's suspicions.

"you guys want to make every sunday a taste test day?"

"yes!" you responded excitedly. more free food? you're there.

"sure."

after osamu packed up some food for the two of you, both of you walked out. the early afternoon sun was scorching and your baggy jeans and oversized hoodie were not helping.

"you wanna get some coffee? i'll pay."

"what are you doing? trying to woo me or something, manwhore?"

"you look like shit and i think it's because you're tired."

"fair. but you have to drive me home first. i need to change and i do not want to walk to the bus stop."

"you didn't drive here?"

"i wanted to take a nap on public transport, sue me."

after a ten minute drive filled with food critiques, you finally made it to your house, quickly changing into some shorts and a t shirt that was actually your size. your raccoon eyes were fixed and you were back in atsumu's car in no time.

"i had no idea you existed up until a few weeks ago."

"nice way to start a conversation, tsumu."

"sorry-"

"you know, when i was karasuno's manager, i thought you were terrifying."

"how?"

"it was after one of your serves, you had this scary look on your face, but i forgot what you were looking at. you scored an ace, though."

"the fangirls."

"huh?"

"it was those squealin pigs that almost messed it up. i remember."

"you call your fangirls pigs?" you scoffed, "you're a whole manwhore." "yeah whatever, (y/n)."

you both went on to reminisce about high school memories, him mostly talking volleyball while you talked about shoyo and tobio being absolute dumbasses. he was interesting, really. his voice was smooth and his tone was always lively, always showing some emotion.

the cafe was mostly empty, a few people scattered around. the bitter taste of coffee met your lips as you hummed with delight.

"what are you looking at?"

"how are you drinking that shit? didn't you order extra espresso shots?"

"yeah, and? i see a ridiculous amount of condensed milk in yours, but i'm not saying anything."

"whatever." he chuckled.

everything was natural, both easing into friendly teasing comfortably. there was always some sort of glint in his eyes, a sly smile whenever he wasn't talking, reddened cheeks whenever you caught him staring.

being friends with miya atsumu was easy.

every sunday was easy. talking to him was easy. thinking about him was easy. a little too easy. and summer becomes fall. and fall becomes winter. and every sunday, there's a new source of energy you find despite your sleep deprived state.

"bo's sending me on a blind date." you tell the twins excitedly.

it's been awhile since you've gone on a proper date. you really haven't had the time for anything except for fooling around at a party once in a while. even if it went nowhere, at least you had something to distract you from the blonde manwhore who's constantly on your mind.

"oh, really?" osamu grinned, "i would have gone a date with you."

"liar. we both remember what happened while you were in school."

"yuck."

atsumu looked between the two of you, the gears turning in his head until it finally clicked.

"you guys went on a date?"

"sadly, yes," you chuckled, "we became closer friends, but that was not the move."

"agreed."

atsumu had already accepted that he had feelings for you. which he suppressed out of embarrassment. he had already accepted that you would have rejected him anyways. you called him a manwhore after all.

"when is it?" he finally asked, jaw clenching. his harsh tone wasn't intentional, but it was there nonetheless.

"next saturday. i'll tell you two about it when we taste test, again."

"you wanna get some milk tea after?"

"no. i have to buy a dress."

"oh."

atsumu watched you walk out the door, a cheerful smile on your face. he felt sick.

and when next sunday comes, you're an hour late.

you looked like you were up all night studying for exams. he recognizes the smudged mascara, the eyebags, the messy hair. except instead of your usual baggy clothes, it's a dress that loosely hugs your figure. he doesn't miss the way your nipples peaked through or the marks on your neck. nasty.

"samu, i'm gonna need more food than usual."

"you got it boss."

the sounds of the kitchen fill the room as you lay your head down. you turn to atsumu, eyes droopy and exhausted.

"you look like you had fun. who did bo hook you up with?"

"his name's konoha. he played for fukurodani back in high school. bo's such a sneaky lil shit."

"how?"

"i may have had a small crush on him in high school when i saw him at a training camp. i told bo and he probably remembered it and thought it was funny."

"nice," he replied, running his fingers through your hair, "are you guys going on another date?"

you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his touch, "i don't think so. it was fun, but i don't think i like him that much anymore."

"ah."

he internally celebrated while osamu rolled his eyes.

and winter turns to spring in atsumu's apartment.

soft white walls, light brown cabinets, a fridge filled with his brother's food. a few photo frames hung around, the most notable once being a photo of osamu stuffing his face when they were kids. the best part was that osamu hated that photo, yet it was also the centerpiece of his table.

you set down the vase of flowers that you were asked to bring. something about making the party feel more "springy" or whatever atsumu said. you were expecting a nice apartment, atsumu was a pro volleyball player of course. but you weren't expecting it to be this nice.

it almost makes you sad. the fact you were constantly exhausted, studying, and stressed while atsumu was the same age having fun and being a playboy. god, this kind of sucks. why the hell was this man friends with you anyways?

"your dress looks so cute!" always count on shoyo to immediately make you feel better.

"you look good even in your big jeans, but you look even cooler?" bo added on, making your cheeks heat up.

while you and sakusa exchanged a small wave, atsumu came out of his room. an unbuttoned short sleeve, white shirt underneath, jeans. wow. god. fuck. and seeing you in the pink dress that flowed around your body, the sleeves being a little puffed, the same train of thoughts ran through his head.

"you needed help setting up?"

"uhm, yeah. can you guys get the plates out and shit?"

"you want us to shit on the plates?"

"shoyo-" you cackled at the confused tangerine headed boy.

it's a good thing you figured it all out before the guests arrived.

seeing kuroo and kenma after so long was refreshing. and the fact akaashi also had a caffeine addiction was comforting. and yachi? she was so grown now. your conversation with the two was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"hey, stranger."

"konoha?"

you gave him a short hug. both of you caught up on the last few months, the situation being less awkward than you expected. it's not like he was trying to get in your pants again, what was the harm in talking? there's nothing wrong with two tired college students having a conversation, right?

suna's voice became distant to atsumu as he observed the blonde across the room. should he go there and save you? his question was quickly answered when you greeted the man with a hug.

"dude? can you hear me?" suna waved his hand in front of his face.

"don't mind he's just being a simp." osamu responded, a smirk on his face.

"am not!"

"for who?"

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"that cute manager from karasuno?"

"yep."

"you go, dude!" suna patted him on the back.

"i don't like her like that, we're just friends."

"why is your face red?"

"it's not red!"

"ooo! is atsumu afraid of (y/n)'s cooties?"

"suna, we're twenty three."

"and you act like you're sixteen with this lil crush, atsumu."

atsumu sighed in response. it was too late. you were going to go home with konoha, or maybe you two would go to his many spare rooms. and you would go on another date. fall in love with him. marry him. have his kids.

"she calls me a manwhore a lot."

"she's not wrong."

"aren't you two supposed to be supportive?"

"no." they both said in unison.

"look just offer to give her a house tour or something," suna advised nonchalantly, "works every time."

"good idea."

feeling a presence behind you, you turned around only to be met with a scary looking blonde towering over you. konoha kissed your cheek and bid you a farewell once he realized another figure grabbing your attention.

"house tour?"

"thought you'd never ask, manwhore."

after a tour of a guest room, a bathroom, and a washing machine, the two of you finally made it to his master bedroom. of course, the pillows on his bed were thrown around and there were a few shirts thrown on the floor.

"i may have forgotten to, uh, put those away."

"how are you gonna give me a house tour and forget to clean your house."

"i remembered to fold my blanket!"

"you don't fold your blanket when you wake up? do you even make your bed in the morning?"

"shut up."

you chuckled as he looked away, a poor attempt to hide his face. judging by the mess of clothing, the setter probably had no idea what to wear for his party. the one that was being hosted by him, in his own apartment, right now.

"i see you had a little fashion show this morning."

"i didn't know what to wear!"

"you're the host!"

"what if i looked bad?"

"who cares?"

he looked at you, a confused expression on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth slightly parted open. your eyes landed on his lips before you immediately turned away. you couldn't get distracted, but he looked so pretty. instead, you sat down on the bed, finding a pillow to rest your head against.

"if it makes you feel better, you look really nice today, tsumu."

"i did it! you finally didn't call me a manwhore!"

"you're still a manwhore."

he pouted while you threw your head back in laughter once again. atsumu took this as an opportunity to sit next to you on his bed, readjusting your head onto his lap. you looked up at his face, eyes boring deep into yours.

"what are you thinking about?"

"you."

"do i have something on my face?"

"no."

his fingers made its way onto your scalp, slowly massaging your head. a moan left your lips at the satisfying feeling. the past few weeks have only stressed you out, but atsumu's presence cushioned you when necessary.

"how's konoha?"

"he's okay, i'd honestly become friends with him if he wanted to."

"didn't he give you a kiss?"

"it was just a cheek kiss."

"you wouldn't mind if i gave you one, right?"

"who cares? i think everyone should give their homies a kiss."

and with that, his lips met yours. his were soft and warm, and though you were caught by surprised, you kissed back. you two melded together until you sat back up.

"i meant a cheek kiss, but whatever."

"you kissed back!"

"no, i didn't."

"did to."

"i don't want your cooties."

"are you five?"

you rolled your eyes, laying back down on the bed. he ended up giving you a kiss on the cheek, then slowly traveled to your ear, then your neck, then dangerously close to your chest. he laid down next to you, arms around your waist, head resting on the crook of your neck. you acted as if you were indifferent, but of course your cheeks still heated up and your heart was beating faster than usual.

"do you wanna be my girl?"

"no."

"rude."

he chuckled into your neck while you grinned, turning your head to look at the pretty setter. it only resulted in more kisses on your face which you happily received.

"is osamu still single?"

"don't even joke about that."

[aus4days]

Monsters In L'Manberg AU

Modern DSMP AU where L'Manberg College is just filled with monsters and the one person the normal students actually think is cryptid actually turns out to be the only human in the giant monster friend group.

It would be absolutely hilarious if Wilbur was still Phil's bio son but instead of being some sort of immortal like his dad, he just turned out to be a normal human and Phil didn't even question it. Yes, Wil is the token human in this au. Fight me.

Speaking of Phil, he's an archangel and chosen warrior of the Goddess of Death. Only he knows the name of the Goddess of Death and because of this he is sworn to secrecy, and his wings being black is to visually show this binding promise.

Keeping with the SBI, Techno used to be a pig. Just a normal pig. But then he touched this cursed crown that captures the soul of anyone who wears it and now he's a shape shifter that usually just stays at least partially pig-like. He also hears the screaming voices of the old wearers of the crown but he can usually just tune them out. Phil took him in when he first got the crown, so that's nice.

And we can't forget Tommy, our good friend. You think I'll make him a Tenuki or a Harpy of sorts, don't you? Wrong! He's a fairy. You may be thinking that's not Tommy fairy's are nice. Listen! In old mythos and folklore, fairy's are malicious creatures that only sometimes befriend humans. Go look it up, it's cool and kinda creepy sometimes. But Tommy is a fairy just hiding in plain sight and just posing as a transfer student staying with Phil.

Of course, we can't have Tommy without Tubbo. You'd think I'd make Tubbo a sayter of some kind. And you're wrong. He's a witch, and Ranboo acts as his familiar even though he's not an animal. Tubbo is also part demon, because witches used to be associated with the devil. So he's either half-succubus or half-imp, because I think both are funny. Either way, Tubbo is a powerful witch, more powerful than he should be at his age.

Ranboo, the familiar, is the same as he usually is. He's half-Enderman half-... something. Yeah, he was kinda created one day and no one has been able to figure out what his light half is, including Ranboo himself. Whoever made him left him basically half finished and that's why he has memory issues.

Michael is Tubbo's accidentally creation that he and Ranboo just got super attached to within five seconds of seeing him. They're very protective of their son.

Fundy is a kitsune, I'm not thinking too hard about this. He's fairly young for a fox spirit so he only has one tail but he's very good at hiding his fox features while in human form. Wilbur has adopted him like an extrovert adopts an introvert, except it's another extrovert.

Eret is the new Vampire King at much too young and is extremely stressed, even if they always look like they know what they're doing.

Dream is not a shape-shifter, he's a demon, and he will attack the next person that accuses him of lying. It's not his fault that one of his powers is the ability to change his appearance into any living creature in the world. He's just very annoyed whenever he's not acting like a confident prick that knows how powerful he is.

George is a baku, a being said to devour nightmares. There's a reason he's always around Dream, but no one in the monster clan can decide what theory is the most likely one. Half of them think Dream causes nightmares and the others think Dream just has really bad dreams. Tubbo is the only one that thinks something different and everyone refuses to believe it. Also, George has a lucky Mushroom pin that he inexplicably gives to others after someone has had really bad dreams and that person somehow has good dreams again. They usually only have the pin over night.

Sapnap was born in fire, and he's not exaggerating. He's a pheonix that just really likes his human form and gets air sickness when he flies. He no longer does paid rides for his friends.

Quackity is a Tenuki. Fight me! Quackity is a power hungry buisness man just trying to get his degree so he can start his buisness in peace. He just wants a stable life where he can do what he wants when he wants. Is that so much to ask?

Karl is a djinn. I'm gonna say that they're timeless beings and don't actually experience time, at least not like most do. So Karl will just be vibing and them burst into laughter because he just granted a king with a mound of dirt, but it was apparently five hundred years ago. Just genie/djinn Karl, please.

BBH is also a demon, but just a normal demon that makes contracts and can teleport. However, he's still BBH, so he's the exact opposite of what you expect a demon to be, personality wise at least.

Skeppy is a carbunclo, probably. I don't know much about them but he's a humanoid variant now. He gets very offended when he hears about "healing crystals" because he actually has magical crystals and the store ones are a joke.

If you can't tell, I like monsters and mythological creatures. I just really like the idea of Wilbur being friends with a bunch of monsters, more than I've named, and either not caring or being totally oblivious. Also, the rest of the student body that aren't monsters are just other minecraft YouTubers and streamers just theorizing what Wilbur actually is while the actual monster kids are just walking around, only kinda trying to fit in with the other humans.

[writinginthedarkwood]

Alien! Kirishima x Reader: Better With You

Warning: NSFW, ovipositor kink, implications of past abuse (not done by our shark toothed boy)

I recommend checking out some of the other parts to this AU! MY MASTERLIST 

You can enjoy this without it, but reading the other parts might answer some questions you have. :) 

The tornado siren wailed. It’s a sound I’ve heard my entire life, but it’s taken on a completely new meaning. 

Before, we’d run to the middle of the park and take shelter with our neighbors. I remember being little, and hiding under the ground from the violent winds that would tear through our community. 

The piercing sound stirred all the sleeping bodies around, the light flicked on in my neighbors trailer. I watched her shadow hurry and throw things into a bag through her window. She pushed her small son out of the door as they ran to take shelter. 

Everyone in the park jolted awake, panicking and running in fear.

Everyone but me, and my father. 

My father whistled through his nose as he slept. He turned only slightly in that worn down chair, his foot kicking the pile of aluminum cans over, but otherwise completely unconscious. The T.V. was a loud rerun of a crime show, but it suddenly switched over to the emergency broadcast. 

The male anchor spoke with a shaking voice. “Paris is falling.” He swallowed hard. “Please take shelter immediately....” He held the paper holding his cues and set it down before reading the next line. “A craft was spotted over Lexington... may God have mercy on us.” The camera cut to the sound of the emergency alarm. I rushed and shut the T.V. off, my heart pounding. My father didn’t stir, still sleeping like the dead.

This was it, it was finally my turn.

I ran to the front door and opened it slowly, closing it behind me as quietly as possible. I climbed onto our garbage can, using the gutter to stable myself before jumping onto the roof.

I used to sit out here when I was little, breathing air that wasn't heavy with cigarette smoke.

The sky looks different to me now, like the stars were actually thousands of eyes looking down at me. Or that it might actually crack open, spilling thousands of bug like aliens down to the ground like in the movies. Even though people are terrified, cities are going up in flames and families are being separated. The footage they catch of girls being taken, they always go with a smile on their face.

Whatever was coming for me, had to be better than here.

"Wow the sky looks really cool from down here." A male voice startled me, I gasped and stared at an interesting looking soldier stood behind me. He had no shirt on, but a sash going over his chest was decorated with patches and medals. His black pants almost seemed a bit big on him, and one pant leg was tucked into his boots. He had brilliant and striking red hair, sticking out of his head like a spikey rock formation with just as incredible red eyes to match.

His teeth were sharp, but his face was gentle and kind.

He smiled at me and sat down beside me. "I wish I had more time to look around..." My breath was stuck in my chest, my hands were shaking.

Is this... man the alien? He dug in a pouch on his hip and pulled out a clay figurine. "I found this. I just think it looks awesome, it's for you." I didn't reach out to take it, my body feeling frozen with shock. He gently grabbed my wrist and flipped my palm over, placing a little frog statue in my hand. It was warm from him holding it. It must have came from someone's garden in the park. "I-..." The little frogs paint was chipped, but it was cute. "Thank you. I like it." I kind of smiled at him, not entirely sure how I'm supposed to feel. "I was hoping you would! You've probably guessed who I am." He said with a hint of blush on his cheeks like he was shy. "I was surprised to find you out here in the open." He thought for a moment. "Are you alright?"

I looked at him, his face was sweet and filled with concern.

Hot tears stung my eyes and I buried my head between my knees and tried to hold back a sob.

"Hey, hey don't be upset... I promise I'm not here to hurt you." His touch surprised me. His hand pulled my head out of my hands and turned my face to look at him better.

"Your cheek is swollen. Are you injured?"

I said nothing and his eyes narrowed. "Come here, come here everything is okay now..." He stood and helped me stand to my feet. He placed his lips on my cheek and parted his mouth, his spit making a small space sticky and wet.

A pleasant sensation came over my tired body. He pulled me into his arms, lifting my feet off of the ground and holding me bridal style. I laid my head on his chest, feeling warm and comfortable. I closed my eyes and rested on him.

Is this why all that footage from fallen cities had girls with smiling faces? They suspected brain washing. I don't feel brainwashed.

I feel good.

I opened my eyes to look at him and saw that we were somewhere completely different.

We were in some type of hallway. There were a lot of people here, couples walking together. Some girls looked a bit like me, wearing normal clothes. They looked a bit shaken up, and clung onto their accompanying alien tightly. Other girls were human, but something was different. They were smiling brightly, wearing all the same dress but in different colors and patterns.

A lot of them had small pregnant bellies.

He set me down on my feet and took my arm to keep me steady. "Welcome home! The ship is designed to look like a neutral place our humans would enjoy vacationing too."

It did sort of look like a hotel.

He opened a sliding door by placing his palm on the wall and we stepped inside. "You know you're a little quiet, which surprises me. But I'm hoping you'll warm up... you still have what I gave you?"

I held out the little frog and he took it, setting it on a plain white table. "Our first decoration!" He leaned against the table and crossing his arms, making the medals on his sash jingle. "You probably have a lot of questions. I am Captain Kirishima Eijiro. You can just call me Eijiro, but if you don't like that name you can call me something else!" He nervously laughed. "Wait that's weird. Am I blowing this? I feel like I'm messing up."

"I'm Y/N... it's nice to meet you." I stood there awkwardly and looked around the room. It was pretty plain, a small bed in the corner. A kitchen without any utensils. "So you're not going to... kill me?" I asked feeling like my tears might come back.

He looked at me funny. "No not at all. Did you think that and you didn't fight me?" Eijiro's face was very concerned. "How about you take a hot shower and afterwards we get you something to eat."

The bathroom was small, and the shower wasn't too difficult to figure out how to turn on, but I couldn't get the steamy water to shut off. I wrapped myself in a soft towel and just about opened the door when I heard his voice.

"Yes I'm worried about the wellbeing of my mate. Her wellness scan says her brain is imbalanced. I think she's been emotionally injured." He was speaking to someone, I didn't hear another voice. "Yes sir. Thank you your Highness. I'll give her nutrition and treat her with the medical aide you're sending by. I'll give you a report after a few days to see if her conditions improved."

I opened the door and he smiled at me, looking up from a watch on his wrist. "I can't get the shower to turn off." I said quietly. He happily walked into the bathroom and showed me how to work everything. He turned the water off, and showed me how to open the cabinet and get toiletries. "And if you ever just want to relax you can change what oils go into the water. They're good for stress, sleep, and even waking you up in the morning."

I stood there, feeling a bit exposed in my towel. Eijiro tried to discretely look at my body. His eyes darted over me quickly, but he managed to mostly hold eye contact. "I should probably let you get dressed. I have some clothes for you."

Eijiro gave me a red dress to put on. It had pretty flower patterns sewn into it, giving the fabric just a bit of texture. It was lightweight and comfortable like a night gown. "Before we get some food in you, I'm going to offer some first aid okay?" He opened the front door and grabbed a package that was sitting outside. He unwrapped a vial and prepped a syringe.

He sat down beside me. "Things are going to better for you now. I'm going to keep you safe." He kissed my exposed arm, dragging his tongue across my skin and leaving a sticky trail. The saliva sizzled and absorbed into my skin.

My whole body felt warm. My skin erupted in tingles and chills. The needle entering my arm didn't hurt. "That didn't hurt did it?" He rubbed the injection spot tenderly. "No, what was that?"

"Your wellness scan came back showing some light damage to your lungs, as well as some sort of chemical imbalance in your brain. A few injections should clear up any damaged cells and get the hormones flowing correctly."

Could he really be curing my asthma? I've had issues my whole life with breathing. Nobody seemed to care enough to stop smoking in the house, or even roll the windows down in the car while I'm in there.

"You can make my depression go away?" I looked down at my hands. My finger nails are always picked down to the nub.

"If that's what your imbalance is called, yes."

Eijiro made a meal for me out of a tan powder and some type of hot green liquid. It reminded me of oats, but was very sweet. After eating together in the relative quiet, a sudden drowsiness came over me. He pulled the blanket over my shoulders and tucked me. I was asleep before I could even count to ten.

I rolled over, groggy and still feeling a bit tired. My arms hit something hard, and my eyes shot open. I gasped and almost fell out of the bed at the sight of sleeping Eijiro. He was breathing out of his mouth softly, a bit of drool falling onto his pillow.

I sat up on my elbow and his left arm flopped over me, pulling me back down on the bed with a loud exhale of air leaving my chest. "Hey!"

Kirishima lazily opened one eye before snuggling into my neck. "Good morning Y/N... ready to start the day?"

For some reason I feel a bit more comfortable today. After getting dressed, I had a lot of questions. He explained why I'm here, how the two of us will be living together from now on. "See I don't know how ready I am to start a family." He smiled and put a hand over mine. "I figured we could spend our time on the ship getting to know each other. Our culture is a little different than yours, we usually start a family right away once we find a mate."

I felt a bit of panic rise in my chest. A family? Is that what the rumors meant about the aliens needing DNA? "But I think you could use some time to heal and adjust. What do ya think?"

"I... I don't even know what to say. I feel like I walked into a dream world." It felt too good to be true. There must be more to this I'm not seeing, people aren't whisked away from our troubles to paradise. Maybe I died, and he's really my guardian angel?

"Does that make me your dream guy?" He gave me a wink and I smiled at him.

"So down this way we have all these resteraunts that we can stop by for lunch." Outside of the hotel like halls were more sterile looking, white halls that lead to different sections of the ship. "Before that I thought maybe we could take a look at the gardens." I held his hand while we walked through rows and rows of gorgeous, vibrant flowers. Tree's grew tall and made beautiful shade for us to sit under. We leaned against the cool bark, I rested my head on his shoulder. Kirishima told me stories about Home World and what our lives will look like when we get there.

"I feel like I'm talking a lot. Why don't you tell me about your life on Earth?"

My smile fell and I tried to think of something, anything positive about my child hood. "Well Earth wasn't that interesting. Home World sounds so beautiful and incredible. I mean, no human has any type of power like you do." He held up his hand and flexed, his skin hardening like rock. I giggled and he kissed my cheek.

We spent time like this together, building some type of routine. Wake up together, and then spend the day having fun and eating.

Every night he would give me an injection, and we'd fall asleep holding each other closely.

On my seventh night, I sat up in the dark gasping for air. My heart was pounding against my chest and I let out a terrible choking sob. Kirishima woke up immediately, hopping out of bed and searching the room for some type of threat. The light flicked on and after a few seconds of looking for an attacker he turned back to me and pulled me into his lap. "Y/N what's happening?" His voice was panicked and I tried gulping down air. "I had a nightmare." I pushed my words out with a shaking voice. He grabbed his watch he always wears off of the night stand and put it on. Holding my hand, a holographic screen appeared from the watch. "Your heart rate is rapid, and your endocrine system is pumping a lot of adrenaline." He moved me off of his lap and started digging in the kitchen. He pulled a medical kit out and starting prepping a syringe. "No! No I don't need any medicine." Tears stung my eyes and I took a deep breath. "It's just a panic attack."

He set the med kit down and looked at me strange. "A what?"

"A panic attack. Sometimes I have bad dreams, and they make me freak out." I pushed some of my hair behind my ears and started to settle myself. Usually they last a lot longer than this, but I feel like I have slightly more control than usual.

"What kind of horrible thing in your dreams made you wake up like that?" He sat down beside me and took my hands in his. His hands are callused and warm. I wanted to tell him, tell him anything and everything.

The years and years of living in hell, always being told that I'm nothing and deserve nothing.

"Your injections you've been giving me... they help a lot with-" I took another deep breath. "They help me to not feel like I'm always drowning." He started rubbing my back, just letting me talk. "Does your species have medicine that can make me forget Earth?" My voice cracked and he pulled my head to rest on his shoulder. "I just want to forget everything." I let my walls fall just a bit and cried into his shoulder. "Hey I've got an idea. How about we go for a walk?"

It was dark in the gardens. The artificial sky was lit up with a beautiful display of soft twinkling starry lights. Nobody is around but the two of us.

We laid down in a clearing and just looked up, staring at the beautiful lights like we're stargazing. He let me just enjoy the quiet, holding my hand beside me.

After a little bit he broke the silence.

"You know, I'm a pretty positive guy." He chuckled a bit. "But I'm also a soldier, I've seen a lot of messy and terrible things. Lost organisms that I was supposed to save. Kill organisms because I was ordered too." He spoke seriously, but still managed to have an air of kindness behind his tone. "I think I understand what's going on with you. You've been through war. I can't make the things you've seen and been through go away..." he rolled to his side and touched my face gently. "But I can fill the rest of your life with new memories..." I looked at his face and couldn't help but smile. "And be here for you when the old ones creep back up. You'll never have to go through anything alone again."

I grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him. His eyes were huge with shock, but he leaned into my kiss. He hovered over me, trying to keep his muscular body from pressing down on me too hard. He swirled his tongue past my lips and I shuddered, waves of heat washing over me and pulsing in my core. I gasped and pulled him down on top of me harder, a slight moan leaving the corners of my mouth. He pulled away from me slightly with a nervous laugh. "A-are you alright?"

I kissed his nose. "Your kiss made me lose my breath."

"Well that's because of my spit. It makes you... comfortable." He looked down at me with a smile. "Ready to go back home?"

The next morning I woke up and stared dreamily at Eijiro's face. He looked so much different to me today. His gorgeous face, his toned body. I ran my finger down his chest and my touch caused him to flutter his eyes open. "Good morning baby girl..." He yawned and stretched out his arm. His stretch had him flex all of his muscles and I pushed myself a little closer to him. "Good morning, I was going to hop in the shower..." I tried to lace my voice with lust so he would take the hint that I wanted him to join me. "Okay! While you're showering I'll cook us up some breakfast."

Lightly disappointed I stepped into the bathroom and undressed. I turned the water on and let it run for a moment before wrapping a towel around me. "Eijiro?" I called out and he quickly opened the door and stepped in the steamy shower. "You alright Y/N?" I dropped my towel and stepped in the water. "Oh I'm fine. Could you hand me more body wash?" Eijiro stood stunned for a moment. "Of course I can." He cleared his throat and got into the cabinet. I took the bottle from him and rubbed the soap on myself. "Would you mind washing my back?" I bat my eyelashes at him and he quickly stripped his shorts off and joined me in the water. He slammed his lips against mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pressed my back against the cool tile and his hips pressed against mine. His fingers combed down my back, his nails dragging against my skin and scratching me. I moaned into his mouth. "Please Eijiro... I want you." I whined. He pressed two fingers against my folds and swirled around, feeling my wetness stretch around him. "Are you sure about this Y/N?" I looked down and noticed his member was strange. His member was large, and the tip was rounded and closed off. The veins stood out against his pale skin, because they were maroon instead of a light purple or blue. "Yes please..."

He turned me around and bent me against the wall. I pressed my hands against the glass to steady myself and he backed my hips up to meet him. His tip pushed into my walls, my body eager to meet him. I gasped as he started to move, letting my body adjust slowly at first before gaining speed. His fingers dug into my hips as he groaned while thrusting into me. The bathroom echoing the sound of his body hitting mine. He bounced me off of his pelvis over and over again, I just moaned and cried out his name over and over again. "Eijiro please I'm going to cum-"

"I wanna make you feel so good baby- hold on-" His member shifted in my body, I felt him pulse as something moved through him. He pushed himself against the very tip of my cervix. Something moved up into my body, it felt like a jelly substance for just a moment before dissolving.

I felt fire run down my spine and erupt. I cried out, my orgasm rocking my body. He wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me steady as his cock shifted again. Another dissolving sensation, and then another. I cried out, shaking. My hands fell off of the wall and Ejiro held me close to him, keeping me from slipping in the water. "You alright baby?" I nodded yes, my chest heaving.

We laid snuggled together on the bed for most of the afternoon. He traced shapes on my back, giving me kisses on my head while we talked between naps.

I could get used to this, being touched with such gentleness. "I love you Eijiro." I whispered to him. I snuggled into his chest further. "I love you too Y/N. I always will."

[readyplayerhann]

King of the World.

Starring... Bang Chan & Y/N Y/L/N

Mentions... other Stray Kids

Warnings: threats of violence, prostitution, and death. explicit language

Universe: mafia!bang chan, gang!bang chan, mob!bang chan

Word Count: 1.5 K

Last week, you stole from gangster Bang Chan unknowingly. This week, he has came to your house twice, this time coming with a favor to ask.

...

"Hello, princess." Chan's voice greeted you as soon as you stepped into your dimly lit home. You  remembered that you turned off your lights before going to work so the sight of the lights when you pulled up to your house in your beat up car caused dread to flood your system, stilling the movements of your body.

You could've driven away, chosen to postpone the inevitable, avoid Chan, but you knew the man would just chase after you. Whatever patient feelings he had toward you vanishing and leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth and a finger on the trigger. You wanted to avoid trigger happy Bang.

You don't say anything for a few moments, just shrugging your bag off, your jacket following suit. As you moved, your brain restricted most of your body's motion, moving slowly during your tasks. You could sense the heat of the gang banger's gaze on your back, but you take your time trying to collect yourself, not wanting him to see you sweat. That decision could prove faulty if the intruder in your outside became impatient. Still, you slowed yourself as you took off the over-garment.

"What? You're not going to greet me?" He taunted in a raspy deep-tone. You caught rustling over your shoulder as he moved him his seat in your dining room. The chair scrapped across the  hardwood of your floor as he shoved the seat into place. You cringed at the sound before tensing up against your command as he sauntered closer.

"And you said I'm the one who doesn't have manners." He goaded before a light scoff drawled from his mouth, his body coming to invade your space from behind. Your body locked immediately, your heart rattling away in your chest as he helped you escape the confines of your jacket. He handed the fabric with such care that the juxtaposition of that and him being a harden criminal you knew him to be was apparent. Rugged, scarred fingers grazed your arm, slowly, gently before stopping on your upper arms before dropping to his side. You straightened, back becoming stiff which only pressed you closer to Chan.

If Chan noticed your reaction he doesn't say anything, he just pulled away taking your jacket along with him and throwing it on top of your tiny dining table. It grazed the table top before falling uselessly to the floor.

You turned completely towards him, no more hiding yourself away.

"Minho," His voice was stern as he spoke to the man unknown to you. You hadn't even noticed him when you walked in. He turned to the other man standing in the corner, silently, his face a mask devoid of any emotions, his eyes black and soulless, "Go take a walk. I want to talk to princess alone for a second."

The man made a grunt of agreement, his dark eyes trailing over your frame as he walked pass you. He flashed you a quick smile, a bloodied and cunning one if you had to describe it. It's only true purpose was to draw out the fear within it's desired victim and it worked, dragging the dead corpse that was once your carefully hidden fear out for them both to see. You breathe caught in your throat and you have to fight to breath again.

The male closest to you leaned forward again, allowing his lips to press against the shell of your ear. You wanted to pull back knowing it was futile, but you tried anyways but Chan caged you in against a nearby counter with his face so close, his breath ghosting over your lips.

Chan had a naturally kind face, soft eyes that might've held the world if he wasn't burned by it and a gentle smile if he allowed himself to do so. The dimples of his cheeks sat there like the perfect imperfection they were. If you both were in a different situation, where you didn't owe him money and he wasn't willing to kill you to get it back, you might've been into his advances. Or, rather his close proximity.

You turned away, thinking your eyes lingered too long on the face of the home invader.

"Look at me." Chan ordered, one his hands coming to grasp at your jaw to force you to meet his eyes. His hands are rough as he forced you to look at him and you jostled in his touch. His eyes pierce yours as you're made to take him in. Twinges of anger swirl in his dark brown, almost black eyes in the night and you shivered at the reach it has on your body.

Even with your head positioned to look at him, your eyes bounced everywhere except for the man before you. Upon your avoidance of the man, you noticed the money stacked high over your table, the one with the fallen jacket beside it. The money that you stole. He had found it or what was left of it. You wouldn't expect anything less from someone who had broken into your house twice.

"Oh," He grinned, following your line of sight to catch a glimpse of the paper bills stacked neatly, "You see the money? You see I counted it, but it's a little short. Like a hundred grand short." Chan turned back to you, dropping his hand from your face and returning to cage you in, "Have you figured out how you're going to get my money back, princess?"

"I-I-" It's the first time you try to speak and you realize immediately how fucking dry your throat his. Chan's lips twitched slightly at your hesitance and offered a mockingly encouraging brow, "I'm t-taking extra shifts at work. I'll get you your money, I just need time."

"Something tells me it'll be a while before you get that hundred grand from your job." He remarked, pulling away from you and walking towards the dining table. He took in your dingy, broken down, one story home, a note of distaste in his eyes as he inspected the place. It was rugged, yes, but it was one of the only places you could afford that was decently away from major crime hot spots. Turns out that didn't matter because crime fucking showed up anyways.

The absence of his presence allowed you to breathe for a moment, before a glint of metal  on Chan's hip caught your eyes.

"You know," Chan drawled quietly, taking his seat at the head of the table like he was the king of the world. He flicked his eyes in your direction as he reached for his hip, revealing a gun dipped in sterling silver and your heart dropped to your stomach, "I usually don't do house calls. I would normally leave that for to the others. Minho for example should've been the one to visit you and your partners maybe along with Hyunjin or Changbin, but when I heard it was a single person who stole half a million bucks from me, I just had to see the fucker who was confident enough - no stupid enough to steal from me."

"Imagine my surprise when I'm told a suburban rat with no priors was bold enough to take from me."

"I needed the money." It was all you can say. It's the truth, but it didn't mean jack shit to the man in front of you. Chan's face remained unimpressed, plump lips thinning into a line as he regarded you.

"Desperation is a funny thing, princess. It can be in response to many events. Heartbreak, finical standing, the need to succeed but the result is always the same. Selling yourself. Whether that be your mind, body or soul. Something has to be exchanged for your errors to right themselves." Chan took his eyes away from you for a moment, brown eyes dragging across the paper in front of him, "Now which one are you willing to sell?" His brow was peaked again, no longer taunting, just plain questioning. It still managed to raise a bit of stress within you.

You spluttered, lips closing and opening as you try to gauge his question with a heavy heart. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stare back at the man eyeing you.

"Y'know, some are lucky enough to end up dead from the their desperate attempts to salvage their lives. Others in prisons and a few manage to come out unscathed only to realizing the mirror will remind them of the scars of their past. But you?" He left out a harsh laugh, dark eyes shining, in the pale moonlight seeping in, embracing your shivering body, "You got the worst fate of all. You're indebted to me."

Chan moved to his feet, swiftly gathering himself and calling for Minho. He stepped forward and you take a step back. His lips curled into a pleasantly cunning smirk at your frighten features.

"There's a shipment coming in at the doc five, downtown. I need you to be there at eleven pm to pick it up and drop it off as this location." He pulled a card with his chicken scratch on it and slide it in front of your face, giving your eyes a break from staring at the hauntingly handsome man in front of you.

Chan shoved the card into your hand, impatient as you just stared at him in disbelief. He turned to leave.

He paused to call your name, "And Y/N?"

"Y-yes?"

"You die the moment you're late. Don't disappointment me , princess."

[kalinara]

It does occur to me that episode 5 of the Witcher is possibly my favorite in terms of interpersonal dynamics.  Specifically for Yennefer and Geralt.

It’s always tricky when we’re dealing with a limited series, with one episode per short story (and not even the full episode, really), to establish strong relationships of the sort that tie the narrative together.  This is especially the case for Yen and Geralt, since its their relationship and its push and pull that’s so very important in the novels and the games.  (Even if you go the other romantic path, it’s still incredibly significant.)

But overall, I think that episode 5 (and episode 6 after that) do a surprisingly good job with the set up.

A lot of the relationship dynamic between Yennefer and Geralt is set up with what came before.  I joked about how the juxtaposition of Geralt’s interest at Calanthe’s torture threat and Yen’s “I *inflict* pain” are the show’s unsubtle way of showing how compatible they are.  But honestly, it’s kind of true.  If you look at the relationships set up at the very beginning: Geralt and Renfri, Yennefer and Istredd, we start to see how the two can fit together.  Yennefer doesn’t play at being anything other than she is.  Geralt (with one exception) doesn’t judge her ambition or lust for power.

I think for people looking for a conventional romance, episode five might seem more than a little lacking.  But Yennefer and Geralt aren’t really a conventional romance.  They’re a kinky romance.  Their initial give and take is more about the exchange of power than it is sweet words and candlelight.

The moment they meet, in the middle of the orgy, the power dynamics are already visibly in play.  He’s out of armor, disarmed, asking for help and bringing apple juice of all things.  She’s gowned and masked, domme chic, lounging in what might as well be a throne.  She’s standing above him as they meet and slowly descends as they speak.  She sets the terms, he accepts.

Then there’s the bath.  He’s naked, in plain sight, while she stalks around him appreciatively.  She lowers herself into the bath, but only after making him turn his back.  She shifts the mirror so he can’t see.  He doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

It gets really interesting though when he mocks her transformation: what was her flaw?  A clubbed foot?  Split ends?  That’s the moment that Yennefer freezes up.  And I don’t think it’s because she was offended.  I think it has to do with the way Yennefer sees her transformation.  Because Yennefer’s transformation was never really about fixing her physical flaws.  If you recall the beginning of episode 3, Yennefer’s big complaint was that she had no idea what her idealized self would look like.  She tells Istredd that he’s lucky: Ban Ard boys don’t have to go through the transformation at all.  She’s not ashamed of her disfigurements, nor should she be.  They may have made her a target for village bullies, but in Aretuza, they’ve never held her back.

Istredd accuses her of being angry that she missed her chance to be beautiful, but there’s no real indication that Yennefer was even thinking about that when she missed the ceremony.  She was still focused on the damage her ancestry reveal had done to her ambition.  She does choose to undergo the transformation, but as a weapon and a means for the power she wants.  It’s a mask, the same as she was wearing in the orgy.

What Geralt did in that moment was say “I see that you’re wearing a mask, and I don’t really care what you’re hiding.”  And that is where things shift. 

She immediately drops the idea of him prostituting himself for his friend’s life (something that he finds obviously disappointing.  Clearly he was enjoying the power exchange too) and goes for a more overt means of getting him out of the way.  But the sexual chemistry is still there and unspoken, and she can’t completely drop the domme act: see, for example, the way she dresses him.

So then we get mind control and an almost execution.  I don’t necessarily think Yen was trying to kill him there.  She probably assumed he’d escape before execution (I doubt she had any idea that the one guard really wanted to “play” with a Witcher.  And how fitting is it that we get those sexualized taunts in an episode that’s all kinky power exchange.).  Or that Jaskier would wish them both away.  Though Yen is also pretty focused on her own desires, so I’m not sure that she that she’d have felt that badly if he had died there.

But then he comes to save her.  And that’s where things get really interesting.  He offers her his wish, she can have whatever she actually wants if she just takes it.  But she refuses.  Her desire for a fertility cure has never really been about having a child.  It’s about being denied something she wants.  It doesn’t mean anything if someone else gives it to her.  And I think she especially doesn’t want HIM to be the one to give it to her.  Yennefer will always be dominant, damnit.

Then Geralt makes his wish.  We don’t know what his exact wording was, but I think we know Geralt well enough to know that whatever wish he made wouldn’t have involved Yennefer falling in love with him.  He’s as emphatic about choice as she is, in his own way.

But at that point their relationship has shifted again.  Yennefer realizes, at least subconsciously, that this is a man who has seen her at her most power hungry.  He saw her in the center of maelstrom screaming that she wanted everything.  Istredd may have loved her before she was beautiful, but he found her lust for power revolting.  Tissaia ridicules it.  But Geralt, who saw her at her worst, experienced her at her worst, doesn’t mind it.

In fact, he trusts her enough to fall asleep in her presence.  That’s got to be intoxicating for someone like Yen.

Geralt’s side of things is also interesting.  (And requires a bit of future knowledge to analyze.)  I think there are a few elements at work here: first, his desire to save self-destructive women is clearly what gets him back into that building after she puts him under mind control.  But I don’t think that’s the point where he truly became enthralled.

I think it was seeing Yennefer at her worst actually: it was seeing her power-lust and her ambition.  It was seeing how much she WANTS.

Because that’s the thing that stands out about season 1 Geralt: except maybe at the very beginning, he doesn’t seem to WANT much of anything.

Of course, he demands coin for service.  But he shies away from any kind of more substantial reward.  Especially if it feels like it’s undeserved.  The whole reason he got a Child Surprise is because he didn’t want a reward at all.  Duny had persisted and Geralt just said “fuck it, give me the next goat you have.”  Geralt’s a dumbass who doesn’t appreciate destiny’s sense of humor.  But he still tries like hell to refuse that gift.

He doesn’t seem to have much by way of long term physical possessions, besides that amulet.  He has Roach...possibly, assuming Roach isn’t a sequence of horses under the same name.  But with the way he talks to her, it’s clear that Roach (Roaches?) is a being to him, not a possession.

Geralt doesn’t seem to care about personal comfort.  He rejects gifts.  And the only thing we ever see him buy for himself is a night’s companionship with a sex worker.

And I think that’s not meant to be a positive thing.  It’s like Geralt says in episode 6, when Yennefer asks him if he ever wanted anything else besides being a Witcher.  And he says that if he had, it was too long ago to remember.

That’s heartwrenching in its own right.  Kaer Morhen did such a number on him that he literally can’t imagine anything other than being a Witcher.

But it’s also even more heartwrenching after episode 8, when we do get to see a Geralt who IS young enough to want something.  And we see at least some of what happened to him to change that.

And it’s sad-funny too, because early on Yennefer doesn’t believe that he went looking for a djinn just to get a good night’s sleep.  But I think we’ve seen enough of Geralt to believe just that.  That’s how broken he is, the closest thing he has to a “want” is sleep.

And then he meets Yennefer.  Who is indeed magnificent.  And she wants EVERYTHING.  She’s everything he doesn’t know how to be.

And when she refuses to accept his wish for herself, she forces him to make a wish.  And in that second, he does want.  He wants HER.  Not her love or companionship, obviously, or she’d never have been able to storm away from him in episode 6, but he still didn’t want to lose her.  

It’s not a healthy relationship by any means.  Not yet anyway.  (Maybe Jaskier can give them a pamphlet about safe BDSM practices and teach them about safewords?)  It’s not a traditionally romantic relationship at all.  But I find it absolutely compelling.

And hot.  I own my kinks.

[sanktnikolais]

Change My Name

A/N: i’m trash and decided to write the Nikolai POV of the underwater kiss of @wafflesandkruge ​‘s pirate au. Thanks for allowing me to be a trash for this content Tiff KLJHSADFKLJ 

A bit steamy maybe.

Word count: 3422

AO3

Nikolai had always prided himself as a gentleman. Especially growing up in the palace, even as the second prince—or the bastard, according to his older brother—he really had to learn the manners a royal ought to  have.

          So when he tried to offer his help in rowing the boat and got rejected, it did prick at his pride dramatically. But he decided not to complain further as he wouldn’t be exhausted in guiding them to saints-know-where Zoya was planning to take them. 

          “Where are we going?” Nikolai asked, not wanting to sound so eager, but failing. He fixed the hat that she had put earlier on his head, but it only slid back down to the side as the boat swayed along with the waves. 

          It was the first time he was alone with the captain, and his mind was half-thinking of ways he could capture the infamous Zoya Nazyalensky and half-panicking that he was alone with her. The latter thought was rather unfitting for his true intention of letting himself be taken hostage, but the distraction in the form of the woman in front of him was making it difficult for him to focus. Those two weeks with her on the ship had made him stray from what he was supposed to do. 

          And yet he found himself not minding one bit.

          Zoya glared at him. “None of your business,” she said curtly, just as he had expected.

          Nikolai bit back a laugh and shrugged, leaning off to the side to look at the waters instead. But doing so only reminded him of the color of her eyes. He shoved away the thought. Not the best time to be thinking about her when he had a much bigger thing to prioritize. 

          Perhaps he should just jump into water and try to escape, or take off with the boat once Zoya was distracted enough once they finally landed. 

          Both sounded idiotic, but they were the only ideas he could think of.

          Or maybe he should just tag along with it, see where it would go, and he found it dangerously tempting.

          Soon enough, they arrived at their destination, a cove surrounded with high rock walls, the beach completely secluded and hidden from plain sight unless one sailed their way there or they somehow landed on the cliffs above. Nikolai raised an eyebrow as he eyed the surroundings. 

          Had Zoya brought him here to dispose of him?

          But when she only flopped down on the sand after they secured the boat, his mind went to utter confusion. She couldn’t have possibly trusted him enough to let him leave her sight or even be  around her  for more than a few minutes. Though looking at her now, with her eyes closed and at ease, he realized that she didn’t mind having him there.

          Nikolai couldn't help a smile on his lips, and it wasn't because of the triumph of having the captain to finally trust him even for a bit. She had agreed to let him out of the ship when he requested it, sure enough it was a small step towards gaining her full trust. Not that he needed anything as worthless as a pirate's trust, but he still found himself trying. 

          It got him thinking, what satisfaction would it bring him if he ever was successful in gaining her trust, only to crush it after? Two weeks ago, he wouldn't have minded. It was appalling that for a short time, he had let his emotions get the best of him again, and it was him that was getting reeled in instead of her. 

          He chose to run around the beach for a while, trying to find his way to escape. Or so he thought he was doing. He covered up for his scheming by occasionally calling out to her about the things he was able to find around. At the far end of the beach there was a small cave in the corner of the cliff wall, and he made his way towards it. 

          The cove was big enough to fit a crouching person inside, but the space was already occupied with a half-buried chest in the sand. Nikolai frowned as he approached the small casket that bore the Liliyana's crest. 

          He raised an eyebrow, looking back over his shoulder to where Zoya was. Was the beach her secret place? Curiosity got the best of him and then he was opening the chest. 

          Various metal objects filled the box, mostly coins and tarnished jewelry, but what captured his eyes was the blunt dagger on top of the pile. He examined the weapon, taking note of the messy carvings in its hilt, the jagged edges of Zoya barely visible on the worn out surface. 

          A smile appeared on his lips as he pictured a little, grumpy Zoya wielding the dagger as if it were a sword. 

          He put the weapon back in the chest and closed it, but not before snatching some of the cheap jewelry that he could use later. 

          Nikolai got out of the small cave, wandering aimlessly to find any escape routes again. 

          There wasn't really anywhere to go unless he took the boat they'd used and left her here. 

          It was the most rational means to run off, but he found that it didn't sit well with him. 

          All because his actual mission actually involved capturing her, not leaving her behind where he would have to chase her all over again. 

          Nikolai eventually resigned that he was stuck there in the cove with Zoya, so he came back to the spot where she was before, and found that she was still lying down with her eyes closed.

          His heart did a strange flip at the sight. She looked calm and peaceful, so unlike the usual stoic demeanor she had whenever she was commanding her ship.

          She was nothing like the stories he'd heard passed around in port towns.

          Zoya Nazyalensky is a witch. Has to be, with the way she keeps slipping the authorities.

          Nazyalensky is a cruel woman. Heard she once had a man killed for looking at her funny.

          At first, he didn't have a hard time believing them. The Stormwitch, they called her, the terror of the seas. And when he was given the opportunity to try and capture her, he was beyond determined to take whatever titles she had earned for herself and drown them in the seas that she claimed as her territory.

          But looking at her now, after spending two whole weeks with her and trying to find the same drive he once had to capture her, Nikolai realized it wasn't as strong as before. He might have even said that he couldn't find the reason to. 

          The Zoya he'd come to know was fierce, yes. Fiercely loyal and protective. Unwavering to her goal that always involved the greater good. But never cruel.

          For once, he didn't know if he had the heart to accomplish his actual objective anymore.

          Nikolai slumped down onto the sand beside her. "So," he started, trying to take advantage of the easy air around them, "this is your beach?"

          A ghost of a smile twitched on her lips. "Correct," she said. "I'm Queen Zoya of the Driftwood and Tides. You may address me as Your Majesty."

          He huffed a laugh. It was so unlike her to humor him with that kind of answer. Something was really different with her today, and he figured he didn't want whatever it was to go away just yet.

          Impulsively, he took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it. "It is truly the honor of my lifetime to meet you, then, Your Majesty," he said, and he realized that there was a slight truth to his words.

          Zoya snatched her hand back as if she were burned, but the redness in her cheeks didn't escape his eyes. "Isn't touching royalty without their permission punishable by death?"

          "Oh, yes," he said, laying beside her and propping his head up with a fist. He looked at her with a teasing gleam in his eyes. "A very painful one. But I can’t even begin to imagine what they’d do to someone who kidnaps a prince and brings him to a secret pirate hideaway.”

          She looked back up to the sky and closed her eyes again. "Only if that bastard Sturmhond catches me," Zoya grumbled, and Nikolai visibly swallowed. Had she not closed her eyes, he knew she would've seen through the change of his demeanor and demanded him to tell what he knew. "He's been unsuccessful for years. And as far as I'm concerned, he can die trying."

          Nikolai covered up his uneasiness with a loud sneeze, and he saw her eyebrows furrow slightly but she didn't open her eyes. There had been far too many close calls in the ship before, with her gaze becoming more and more wary of Tamar every time the latter was talking to him. 

          He could only hope that Zoya would catch on with them.

          Amidst the growing panic in his mind, an idea popped into his head.

          "Stay here." Then he was scrambling to his feet.

          "How dare you order a royalty around?" He heard her call out, but there wasn't the usual venom in her tone. A smile twitched on his lips. He needed to do something to distract him from the weight of her previous words to him, so he figured he might do a little surprise.

          Besides, Nikolai didn't know how long before the truth came to crash between them and drive them apart.

          He had time for now.

***

          The damned chains finally clicked after several slips from his fingers, and he smiled triumphantly. It looked good, to him at least, and he held it close to his eyes to appreciate it. He could only hope that she would too. 

          Nikolai felt her presence before she spoke. 

          "What are you doing?" Her voice came from somewhere near behind him, and he immediately jumped to his feet. 

          "Stop!" he said, holding his arms up as if to hide what he was doing. He knew he looked a bit petty with his attempt, and he felt his ears go hot. "It's a surprise. Turn around." 

          Her scowl didn't waver as she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. She obviously didn't want to be ordered around. 

          Nikolai sighed. "If I was going to murder you, Zoya dear, I would have slit your throat while you slept," he said, but his words were nothing but a hollow joke. "Lesser chance of you fighting back and damaging my pretty face." 

          The stubborn expression was still there. "Maybe you like your victims to suffer." 

          "Trust me," he said, his tone holding enough sincerity that surprised him as well. He blinked. Everything was really coming to backfire at him. 

          Another moment passed before Zoya finally complied and turned, an exasperated sigh coming out from her lips. Nikolai smiled as he picked up the small crowns and made his way to her. 

          Her posture was stiff and alert all the while he was approaching her, and he had to stifle a laugh at her reaction. The great captain of the Liliyana fearing for her life? Very unheard of. He decided to mess with her for a bit. 

          He stopped right behind her, and the scent of wildflowers immediately invaded his nose. He tried not to breathe in more of her as he brought his free hand to her shoulder. As he had expected, she jumped back from his touch. 

          Nikolai chuckled. "A bit of a high-strung, aren't you?" he said, voice laced with amusement. He started to guide her to the ocean, but he felt her resistance and her attempt to pull away. "We need the water for this to work." 

          "For what to work?" she demanded. The water was already up to their chests, and she was beginning to struggle a bit more. "Are you drowning me like an unwanted kitten?" 

          "Nothing of that sort. Close your eyes." 

          She turned around to protest, her blue eyes sharp and wary at the same time. "Nik—" 

          "I'm waiting."

          Zoya stared back at him incredulously. Nikolai knew she was contemplating whether to strangle him or stab him, and yet he didn't seem to be fazed and he continued to look at her with an expectant expression. 

          With another exasperated sigh, she shook her head before finally closing her eyes. 

          He brought his hand that was hiding the crowns from his back, and gently placed one on her head. It had taken him a few hours to mend the thing, letting his love for putting things together drive him to work carefully. He even went as far as going through her things while she was asleep to add the small gems.

          But when he looked at her now, with her eyes closed and the gilded crown practically glowing on her head, Nikolai didn’t know if there was anything more beautiful than the sight he was seeing right now. 

          "Alright," he said, his voice coming out more breathless than he intended, "you can look now."

          Zoya opened her eyes. He held his breath as she looked at her reflection in the waters. For a moment, he thought that she considered it petty and childish, and he was ready to brush it off as a mere joke to save his dignity. But when Nikolai saw the vibrant warmth in her eyes, he realized that he'd do anything to see it all over again. 

          It was then that a single thought struck him, the one that came to his mind the first time he saw her, but never really pondered about it until now. He sucked in a breath as if he had just been punched in the gut. 

          She was beautiful. 

          Saints, she was so beautiful. 

          He slipped a crown of his own just as she looked up at him, and he cleared his throat, trying to remember the tone used in statements during a coronation. 

          "I crown thee, Zoya Nazyalensky, first of her name, Queen of the Driftwood and Tides, Head of the Cove, Protector of the Seas, Lady of the Sands," he said, each made-up name bringing amusement to her eyes. He found himself smiling softly at the triumph of making the great Captain Nazyalensky amused rather than annoyed with him. He fixed the crown on her head, letting his hand linger for another moment. "Long live the Queen." 

          She raised an eyebrow at him. "If I'm Queen, then what does that make you?" 

          Nikolai flourished a hand in the air. "Why, your loyal king consort, of course." 

          The weather and the waters weren't that cold, but the redness on her cheeks were apparent. "And Prince of Ravka," she said. 

          "Second Prince," he corrected. "Big difference. And I must say, these crowns I made are much more comfortable than the ones they made me wear back in Ravka." 

          "Is that so?"

          He fought a wince as he tried not to remember the feeling. "It's horrible," he said, wrinkling his nose. Zoya was frowning, expression curious as if urging him to go on. She didn’t break her gaze at him, unwavering, and he was floored from the intensity of her eyes. 

          Beautiful.

          And it was in that moment that his mind narrowed down to a single thought. Nikolai wanted to kiss her.

          He knew what he had to do. With a dramatic expression, he added, "After wearing one all day, you develop a horrible ache right" —his hand moved to cup the back of her neck and pulled her closer— "here." 

          It had been his intention to pull her in, to be nearer to her, and yet every word still seemed to fly out of his mind with their closeness. The current had pushed them nearer to each other, their bodies touching, a situation they never would have dared to be in back on the ship. 

          There wasn't much space between them, with their chests flush against each other and Zoya had to tilt her head up to look at him. Up close, he noticed that her eyes were of the shade not much different from the seas, and maybe that was why he always felt drawn to them, as they were near the same thing he adored so much. 

          He suddenly found it hard to breathe. 

          Beautiful. 

          The lapping waves around them weren't enough to overcome the sound of the erratic beats of his heart nor the voice telling him to close the distance between them. 

          The seas will help you find your way. 

          It was something his mentor always liked to say. He almost smiled at the memory; he had never quite believed it back then, as he would say that it was the sailors alone that found their way back. 

          But now, he didn't think so. 

          Because the seas helped him find his way and it led him to her. 

          A stronger current pushed them closer together, and then it was followed by a wave that sent them underwater. 

          Below the surface, everything was calm and quiet, the feeling of serenity almost strange to him after all the harshness both the seas and the palace had thrown at him. Nikolai looked over at Zoya; her hair was cascading around her like a glowing halo, and if she were a saint, he knew he would get down on his knees and worship her. 

          His hand was still on the back of her neck, and his free hand slowly came up to cup her cheek. His gaze on her was soft, baring his soul before the storm that took his breath away. 

          Beautiful. 

          Nikolai didn't know who moved first, whether it was him or her, or even both, it didn't matter. The moment his lips met hers, he already knew it was over. 

          He needed her more than air, the taste of her mouth making him feel alive as he felt her hands threading into his hair and his back to kiss him deeper. It would've been enough for him, but the current dragged them up to the surface. 

          Zoya only had a second to breathe before he was cupping her face with both hands and pulling him to her, and she was meeting him halfway. They tangled again in a mess of eager hands and urgent mouths, neither of them wanting to end the moment. 

          It was easy to forget everything he was supposed to do, the actual reason why he was here in the first place, but the sighs coming from her mouth made his thoughts slip away and only focus on the feel of her. 

          Nikolai smoothed her hair back, his lips moving from her mouth to her jaw, and to the spot under her ear. Her hands clutched on his back, and then she was tilting her head back for him. He tightened his grip on her waist as he moved dangerously down from her ear to the spot where her neck met her shoulder,  feeling a shiver run through her when he lightly bit down on her skin. He couldn't get enough. 

          A sharp gasp came from her mouth, her other hand coming up to tangle in his hair. "Nikolai," Zoya breathed, turning his head to capture his lips, and Nikolai fell to her again. 

          Whether it was minutes or hours that they were tangled in each other's arms, they didn't know. But eventually they figured they still needed to get back to the ship, and as much as they wanted to get lost with each other for a longer time, they had to swim back to the shore, and back to their small boat. 

          They lay exhausted on the sand right after, both of them trying to catch their breaths before they make their way back to the ship, and back to their reality. 

          Along with the truth of who Nikolai really was. 

          "So…" he started, but he was cut off by her voice right away. 

          "Not—not now." Her tone was begging, almost desperate, very far from the voice that always held sharpness and poison. 

          Nikolai understood, and he reached for her hand, feeling her fingers close around his as they looked back up the reddening sky. 

          The truth hung heavily on his shoulders, now that he was already in way too deep with his feelings, but he shoved all the thoughts away. 

          Right now, nothing had to be said. 

[tanjhero-a]

Unsatisfied

(Kyoujurou Rengoku x GN!Reader)

A/N: this is based off a dream I had, actually. It motivated me enough to actually write and complete a story. It’s a bit... dramatic, tbh, but it’ll have to do. 

Word Count: 3,000+

Unrequited Love, Sexual Themes (this fic is not NSFW), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Your life revolves around being unsatisfied. 

You are the third sibling- the youngest sibling- and more often than not, you lived in your sisters shadows. The oldest is a snobby, mean artist who abandoned you and your other sister years ago. The second oldest is Shiho, a beautiful prostitute who you lived with. 

And even though you hate the sister who abandoned you, you think you probably hate Shiho the most.

It was a classic Cinderella tale, but perhaps a bit more dirty. You were not as pretty or as talented or as clever as Shiho and this was made clear to you- it was clear that your place was below her, living in her shadow and cleaning up her literal and figurative messes as you were more or less the janitor of the prostitute house you lived in.

You lived only to be unsatisfied. Because this- this life you’re living? What on earth is satisfying about it?

There- once- was an answer to that question. The answer came in the form of a man who was as bright as the sun and warm like it, too. You had been out in town, coming back from the river nearby where you had washed the laundry when you met him. He had actually run into you on accident in the street- making you stumble and fall over- the clean clothes once again soiled as they hit the dirty ground. 

And when you glared up at the offender- you faltered your nasty selection of words and choked on your tongue. 

Because who could be mad at someone so beautiful?

His name is Rengoku Kyoujurou. A mouthful of a name for a mouthful of a man- he wasn’t plain or uninteresting in the slightest. And he was kind, too, and you knew this because he immediately flushed with embarrassment and helped you up off the ground before picking up your clothes and actually helped wash them again. 

You’ve never met someone like him before. 

—-

“There are many clothes in this pile!” Rengoku had commented, squatting next to you beside the river as he scrubbed vigorously. “Do you have a big family?”

A part of you was flattered he wanted to know that about you. Most people didn’t want to know anything about you. “Of a sort… It’s more like a shared household… but we’re sort of like family.” It’s the best way you can describe it. The other girls in the house were always considerate of you, and so was the house mother. You suppose that’s better than nothing.

“Well, it’s certainly kind of you to wash all their clothes! It’s good to have some family rather than none at all, I think!” The man cheerily declares as he puts the clean clothes in the basket and reaches for more soiled ones. 

Your heart stung at his kind words. Was that really true…? You suppose it’s easy for him to say that. But you smile and nod at him anyway. 

—-

And even though he caused you to stay out late and rewash dirty clothes, you had fun! And that was a first- because when was the last time you felt this happy? Rengoku was a lovely man who made you laugh and smile, and he was gentlemanly enough to even walk you home after you were done washing.

If he was surprised or disgusted by where you led him, he didn’t show it- and for that you were grateful. It was clearly a prostitute house but he didn’t say a thing besides smile at you and once again apologize for running into you.

And that’s when the dream ended.

Your sister had come out then, an angry look on her face as she stormed over to you and asked ‘where have you been? Do you see how late it is?’

To anyone else, it might have seemed like she was worried for you. But you knew that wasn’t the case.

Rengoku did not, though- because he fell into the party of ‘anyone else’. You saw his eyes widen at the spectacle that was your sister. You saw him smile as he introduced himself gently to her, explaining the situation and how he was to blame.

And you saw your sister hide all her venom as she smiled back like a snake, assuring him that it was no problem and she was just worried about her dear sibling for not coming home. 

That is when the dream ended, because Rengoku stopped looking at you, and only looked at her, just like everyone else. 

And that is not the end of the story, either, because the man came back. He found you as you were mopping the entryway, and you were quite dumbfounded that he was here in the first place. 

You asked him warily if he was here for a session. His laughter was genuine as he assured you- no, that wasn’t why he was here- but he actually wanted to see you.

A lie if you ever heard one. But your lonely, desperate self believed in it as you eagerly sat down with him and let him make you smile and laugh once again. 

—-

“Your brother sounds like a wonderful kid,” you smiled at Rengoku’s story. He lit up a thousand times brighter when he spoke about his brother, Senjurou. “It’s wonderful he has a big brother like you to rely on.”

“Well, I do my best,” he smiles. “I’m sure your sister is the same way!” 

You hum, fingers twitching in your lap. “Yes, well…” And then you perk up. “You forgot to tell me about the time he made gyoza! You mentioned that earlier!”

Rengoku, bless him, takes the bait and starts a long winded tale of how his brother made gyoza and oil went everywhere. It was wonderfully funny and made you laugh despite the tight feeling in your chest.

—-

And once again, Shiho came walking by, afterglow making her skin glimmer and shine. As beautiful and lovely as ever, she captured Rengoku’s attention again, and Shiho swiped him right from under your feet. 

His visits become semi-frequent. He’ll come to your little house, chat with you in the entryway, and then he goes out with Shiho into town or into her room. It was only a matter of time before he started to do that.

It was only a matter of time before you had to start cleaning his messes, too, along with all the others. 

You, of course, knew better than to fall for Rengoku, but you did it anyway. So each time he came to see you- you cherished those moments. You were genuinely happy! 

But whenever Shiho came and you had to watch them flirt and dance together, an ugly, intense feeling of jealousy and hatred curled in your gut. 

Lately, you’ve been ignoring him. Whenever you see his bright hair walking down your street, you quickly hide away in another room and busy yourself with chores. It’s not like it matters- it’s not like he misses you like you so desperately miss him. It’s not like he’d even notice you were gone- the man never comes for you anyway. No one does. 

You live only to be unsatisfied.

—-

It’s another harsh night for you. Rengoku came by a few hours ago- you had been conveniently busy in a closet- and he was quickly whisked away by Shiho. Every so often as you clean the halls, you walk by her room and hear the sounds.

You pretend you don’t know what’s happening as you keep cleaning, keep doing your job. 

It’s been getting harder to ignore Rengoku, but easier as well. You figure that the longer you pretend he’s not here, the sooner he will escape your heart. 

The grip you have on your broom is tight- almost enough to splinter and break the wood until a hand touches your shoulder and surprises you enough that the broom drops to the ground. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you,” it’s Rengoku. Of course it is. You warily look away from him as you mumble ‘it’s alright’, picking up your broom. “I’m glad I saw you before I left. It’s been some time since we’ve talked!” 

“I suppose so,” you choke out between frowning lips. You do your best to avoid his fiery gaze. “It’s late, and you’re probably tired. I wouldn’t want to keep you.” Your shoulders hunch as you try to walk away. 

The smell he carries makes your stomach lurch and flip. Enough so that you may even vomit- but you don’t get the chance to run away just yet. His hand once again clasps your shoulder. It’s warm, you notice, and you hate that. 

“Are you alright?” 

And the words shock you, almost. You finally look at him- and you see his worried features. The twitch in his brow, the look in his eye. And it hurts.

Why would he be worried for you? 

Suddenly angry, you smack his hand off your shoulder and scowl at him. “What makes you think I was ever alright to begin with?” You hiss, and your anger startles Rengoku enough where his eyebrows shoot up and he takes a step back from you, his mouth hanging open. 

That hurts, too. Everything hurts. Him being worried for you, being shocked by you, just… Rengoku. 

He makes you hurt. 

“Just leave me be, Rengoku. Please.” That’s all you can say before you quickly retreat, tail between your legs as you disappear from his sight. Your lip wobbles as eventually your pace turns into a run- running so fast so you can hide away in your room and pretend like you don’t exist for a little while. 

Instead- you run right into the house mother. You’re already in tears and you gasp in shock from running into her, instantly taking a step back as you shamefully bow your head and apologize. “I’m so sorry, mother- I’m so-”

“My dear- what’s wrong?” The house mother asks you, grabbing your arms gently with care. 

And you break in that gentle hold, letting out so many emotions that should have escaped long ago. 

—-

You tell the house mother everything once she was able to lead your sobbing self into the privacy of her room. You tell her about how you hate your sister- how you hate living here- how you love Rengoku but you hate him, too. 

“You’ve been holding yourself back for so long,” she sighs as she wipes your tears with a small cloth, cupping your face in her hand. Her eyes are shining with empathy for you as her lipstick stained lips frown at the sight of you. “You are not like your sister. You don’t have to stay here. If you want to run away from it all and carve your own path… I wouldn’t blame you, nor stop you.” Her head tilts. “Is that what you want?” 

Is it? You’ve never thought about it before. You’ve never thought about running away- being alone- because it never seemed like an option. “Do… do you think I could do it?”

“You can do anything, dear,” the house mother tells you softly. “The only thing stopping you is your fear.”

—-

Your fear is, to put it simply— immense. 

The fear of running into the unknown, being fully alone and independent- scared you to no end. What if you failed? What if your life got worse? You can’t possibly imagine life being worse than it is now, but you know it’s still a possibility. 

Because all things considered, you have a roof over your head and warm food waiting for you when you need it. That might change if you decided to escape your safety net. 

In the end, you decide that running away is cowardly. It’s around a month later of debating and thinking heavily on your choice before you finally make it. 

No, you would not run. You wouldn’t run at all, even from Rengoku. Instead, you would finally be honest. 

You would speak to Rengoku and confess your feelings. You would try to speak with Shiho and see if you can convince her to help you move away from this house. Because, yes- you want to leave- but you cannot do it alone. 

Unfortunately, you speak to Shiho first. You discovered quickly that this was the wrong decision. 

Once you tell her about your feelings for Rengoku and your cruel jealousy- your petty, ugly feelings that had you feeling depressed and unsatisfied- she threw a fit. You suppose you deserve it for being so selfish. 

Selfish, unworthy, cruel, heartless, unthankful! 

Those were the things Shiho screamed at you as she tore your clothes and tossed you outside. 

Needless to say, you didn’t have her support. 

It wasn’t all bad. You still had the lending hand of the other prostitutes that lived in the house and the mother— when Shiho had stormed off, they brought you clothes and food and encouragement. 

Maybe this is what Rengoku meant, all those months ago when you first met. You might not be a conventional family by any means or bound by blood, but these girls had your back and believed in you more than your real family ever did. 

At least you had them— it was definitely better than having nothing at all. Just like he said. 

Truthfully, you worry for the man. You do not know the extent of his feelings for your sister- you hope he is smarter than you and never thought about falling in love with her. While your sister is charming and beautiful, you know she is only a snake in disguise, slithering in the dark, waiting to strike. She doesn’t care about anyone other than herself. 

You hope he doesn’t buy whatever lie she inevitably feeds him when he asks where you went. Because you know Rengoku will ask. Despite how you lashed out at him, despite the fact that he never looks your way anymore and despite all your self deprecating thoughts, you know Rengoku cares. He will notice you’re gone. 

That’s the belief you cling to, anyway. 

—-

One of the prostitutes was kind enough to give you pocket money. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to find a place to spend the night. You spend all the money she lent you on cheap inns- you starve yourself all the while because you definitely don’t have enough money for food. 

You’ve applied to several different jobs, but the responses so far were negative. Who wants to hire the cleaner of a prostitute house? Not many. 

It’s another night. You’re in the middle of wandering the street, holding the small, pathetic coin purse you were given tightly in your hands- when you bump into somebody. 

You don’t look up. You give the person a weak apology as you continue walking forward- but the voice stops you. 

“___?” 

The coin purse in your hand drops. 

“Rengoku?” 

It’s as if time stops when you meet his eyes again. It’s felt like it’s been so long- so long since you’ve seen those beautiful eyes. 

...a few moments pass, and Rengoku gives you a soft, worried look as he smiles. Slowly he bends over, picks up your coin purse and gently places it back in your palm. “You should really stop dropping things around me.” It’s a weak joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“I-I’m sorry. You surprised me.” You clutch the purse tightly once more, over your heart. “...Thank you.” 

He shakes his head. “Where have you been? I tried to ask around, but no one had answers.” 

Figures. The girls are trying to protect you, your sister is probably pretending you don’t exist. Your body deflates a little bit at the look he gives you. 

“...Around,” you weakly shrug. “I don’t really think you’d enjoy the details, but I don’t work at the house anymore. Trying to find something new.” 

Rengoku’s eyes shine. “I would,” he urges. “I would enjoy the details. Can you have tea with me?” 

It’s just a friendly invitation, but your heart flutters nonetheless. Which is pathetic- you’d think your crush on Rengoku would have whisked away by now. “Mm,” you nod. “I would like that… very much.” 

—-

That’s how you end up in a quaint, cute little tea house, sitting at a table across from a man who is much too good for you. A man who is finely dressed in warrior’s clothes and a clean, neat haori. Compared to you and your dirty, cheap yukata- you really don’t look like you’re supposed to be seated together. 

Rengoku insists he will pay, which you are thankful for. You don’t know if it’s because he can tell you are living off the few coins you have or if it’s because he’s just gentlemanly like that, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. 

Despite how burning hot it is, you drink an entire cup as soon as the tea is delivered to your table. It’s been awhile since you’ve had anything pleasant and hot, you don’t mind how it scalds your tongue. 

“So,” Rengoku watches you from across the table. “Tell me everything.” The way he tilts his head and stares at you tells you that he doesn’t just want a poor explanation on why you moved. 

He wants everything. 

“Are you still seeing Shiho?” 

The question throws him off guard. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to completely avoid his question with another question- one that is so personal, as well. “Not at the moment, no. She seemed… upset at me. I don’t know why, so I haven’t been back since I learned about your disappearance.” 

“Do you care for her?” 

His face twists as he grows silent. You frown. 

“...It’s okay to say you do.” 

“I’m not sure if it runs that deep,” Rengoku tells you, his hands placed on top of the wooden table and folding together. “She is beautiful and lively, but I don’t know much about her. She is a prostitute, after all. Our relationship was never truly intimate.” 

You nod. His answer… relaxes you a bit. It makes it easier for you if you know that he doesn’t love a woman like her. 

“My sister is cruel,” you start simply. “I have always been her little slave. Regardless of what I wanted, I had to follow in her shadow and do as she pleased. The only reason I worked at the whore house was because it’s where she led me. I had nowhere else to go.” Your eyes wander to your tea cup. It’s empty, but the porcelain is beautiful. “I’ve been… so sad, my entire life. I was never truly happy. But then I-“ you choke a bit and clear your throat, lick your lips. “I met you… and I was happy. And that’s the truth, Rengoku.” 

You finally meet his gaze then, trying your best to smile at him. “I was so happy to talk with you. You spoke to me like I was a person- like I mattered. And then… You saw Shiho, and a seed in my heart grew.” You place a hand over your chest. “Making me jealous… resentful. Angry. Because I loved you so much, and you didn’t love me. But you were right there. You were always right there, sleeping with someone that I-“ your voice cracks again as you begin to weep. “Someone that I hate more than anything in this world. So I had to leave.” 

You don’t bother to look at him. Your eyes close, your head tilted down as a hand tries to cover and hide your tears away from him. The two of you sit in a tense silence, but you expected that to be the case. You had confessed a lot to him. 

A sniffle leaves you, eventually, and you hear a deep sigh from across you. But you’re too afraid to look up- you can’t , especially not when you can tell he’s starting to stand. 

He’s going to leave. He’s going to leave because you are gross and disgusting and he hates you-

But… once again, that warm hand touches your shoulder- so, so gently. And when you finally uncover your eyes, you see Rengoku sitting himself right beside you as he keeps his hand on you, a kind smile on his lips. 

“It’s alright. Come here.” 

His arms open, and you let yourself fall into them and wrap your arms tightly around his body. He holds you securely against his chest, cooing in your ear as he rubs your back. 

Truthfully, it’s embarrassing to be held and consoled in a public place like this. But you try not to pay that part any mind. 

“I’m sorry I have caused you pain,” Rengoku whispers in your ear. “I never meant to- I truly enjoyed my time with you. I never meant to become an obstacle or a reason your life became difficult. Forgive me.” The words are honest and soft. 

“You helped me, Rengoku,” you sniffle again as you shake your head. Slowly you untangle from him, hands moving up to cup his cheeks. It takes a lot of courage, holding him like this and meeting his eye, but you do it anyway. Even if your hands are trembling. “I don’t regret meeting you or loving you. Loving you gave me the push I needed to fix my life. If anything- I am sorry for using you in such a way. It shouldn’t have happened this way- you don’t need to be involved in such a personal issue.” Your forehead gently presses against his and you close your eyes. “But I am still glad. I’m glad you came. Thank you, Rengoku.” 

His warm hands place themselves on top of yours. “Where will you go now?” This question… you purse your lips as you lean away from him, biting your cheek. It seems to be enough of an answer for him as his hold tightens. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” 

You cannot lie. “...No. But I will find something, eventually.” 

Rengoku’s head shakes in your hold before he places your hands away, setting them in your lap. But he doesn’t let go. “You should come with me. It’s the least I can offer, and you deserve a roof over your head. Food in your belly.” 

Before you can even reject the offer, his hand raises and pinches your face. He’s smiling cheekily at you, a glimmer in his eye. “Don’t think about saying no. I’m not going to accept it! Don’t you want to meet Senjurou?” 

“...” you bite your lip. “...I can help make gyoza.” 

Rengoku laughs, his head thrown back as his laughter bounces off the tea house’s walls, and you realize how much you missed that sound.