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hivemuthur · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #viktor fluff #viktor x reader fluff #requests #viktor x female reader

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muletia · 6 months ago

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Love you're optimus stories! So here is one

Optimus picks up (Y/N) from work/school and finds then hurt. I mean dried blood coming from their noise, a black eye, and a bandage around their chin.

Turns out some asshole tried to rob them bit they beat the asshole up with getting hurt themselves.

While optimus do somthing or just comfort (Y/N)?

hello and thank you! sorry this took a while to answer but your honor, i am just silly

you've touched on a very interesting topic here, one that i wanted to write about earlier. there's a reason why i don't call my obsessed!optimus a yandere and don't think he fits into that character archetype. and i know the topic of yandere is very fluid and can be interpreted in endless ways, but the main shtick of my interpretation doesn't differ much from the canon version of optimus. i mean: i’d rather hurt myself than others. the only difference is that i’ve gave him an unhealthy and self-destructive love for the reader (and made him a bit horny).

in the situation you described, optimus would be terrified at the sight of you and would instantly want to take you to ratchet/june, but he wouldn't actively look for the perpetrator or want to hurt them out of revenge, because you already dealt it yourself. however, after that incident, he would definitely become more overprotective, at least until you're fully recovered. he would spend much more time in your company, offer rides to work, and treat you even more gently — if that’s even possible.

and yes, i know that in one of my replies i wrote that optimus would go apeshit if some vehicon hurt you, but only because it was a direct, visible incident that flipped a feral switch in his processor, screaming that he must protect you at all costs. he saw with his own optics how you got hurt, and his anger doesn’t stem solely from the fact that you’re suffering, but also from his failure to prevent you from getting hurt. you were right there with him, he was watching over you closely, and yet he failed — he didn’t keep the promise he made to you and your planet. and he hates himself for it because he knows he should take better care of you. in the above scenario, he’s not a direct witness, so it would end with just comforting you.

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #tfp #be silly #obsessed!optimus

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ambrosiagoldfish · 5 months ago

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i’m going a teensy bit feral reading your adam x third spouse story so i guess im just asking for part five and for it to hopefully have focus on dad beat dad and how lucifer would react to seeing the reader again after so long and like what would happen n stuff 🤭🤭 ofc if this is dumb ignore it i like what you’re doing with the story already !! the part im most excited for is the finale tbh but there’s a lot of time in between what you have rn and then so i’m just yapping abt stuff that could be cool in between. thsi is so jumbled omg sorry i just wanna see more of your writing it’s so good

idk how to end this uhh i love you bye 🫡

Benefit of the doubt PT.5

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: GN! Reader, confronting the past, next to no Adam (I know, sad, but it’s for the plot), Reader focused chapter, this is set during ‘Dad Beat Dad’, swearing, the next 2 chapters will have a LOT more Adam DW ❤️❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Request Box: OPEN

Word count: 4322

A/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support on all the other chapters. It’s been 8-ish months since the last update and for that I want to apologize. I’ll save it for its own dedicated post to not full int his page too much. But if you’ve saw one of my post from the other day, I have posted this on A03 and I’m giving myself 8 total parts. 7 will be the finale and 8 will be an epilogue styled thing (not even sure if I’m wanting to do it so when we get there, you guys can tell me if you want it!! ) so yeah, enough rambling, you’ve all been waiting so long for the next part so here you go!! <3

Reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(My posts have been flopping so much, I would love you forever if you did 😭)

Old memories have a habit of slithering their way back into a person's mind, and even sometimes, people

The first few months at fhe hotel were a lot more enjoyable than you originally expected. Most days went relatively the same, Charlie would choose an activity to do and you would observe the progress they made.

At first, progress hadn't shown much promise but as everyone grew closer, things began to look up. Angel had gone clean with his drug abuse and was distancing himself from his line of work. Sir Pentious started to actually trust the people around him and has done no major constructional damage to any buildings as of late.

Everything was going so smoothly that, when you had woken up one morning to the sounds of screaming, running, and just general chaos. You thought everything was finaly going into the ground.

You quickly run down to the lobby, thoughts of what could be happening run through you. Did one of Pentious experiments fail and explode? Were we being attacked by one of the many gangs in town? Did Alastor decide the hotel was actually boring and started destroying it, starting with the occupants? Whatever it was, you hurry faster to the lobby.

But what was meeting you there was… unexpected to say the least. Party streamers, banners, cookies. It looked like some kind of welcome party heaven would do, albeit with less flare and taste in decor. A banner that read ‘Wellcum Daddy’ was being hung up by Razzle and Dazzle, everyone was either cleaning or baking something, and Vaggie seemed to be ordering them around.

You look at the clock, huh, it’s way too early for any kind of Charlie’s trust exercises. Not to mention, she would have told you about the curriculum and there was absolutely not a 10 AM home-EC class listed on your schedule.

You quickly run up to Charlie who seemed to be preoccupied with helping Vaggie put something up “Charlie, what’s going on?” You tap on her shoulder, She jumps a bit before just realizing it’s you,

”Oh- Y/N, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to get you!” She apologizes when Vaggie pops in,

“Don’t be, I told Nifty to go wake you up, but looks like she had better things to do” she points over at Niffty swifty stabbing bugs and removing cobwebs out of habit

“It’s fine, just… what’s everyone doing, what’s with all the party supplies and sweets?” You say, arms to the festive lobby around you.

“Oh well…” she took a deep breath “you know that The deadline is fast approaching and while we’ve made progress it’s not much” she paused, trying to even brace herself for what’s coming out of her mouth, “I have asked… my dad to come over and hopefully get us a meeting with heaven” she stops, completely caved in on herself.

“Wait, so… your dad is coming here?” you thought about the times she had asked you to get them a meeting with heaven but you had already explained to her that it would be next to impossible for someone like you. You had to practically beg just to monitor the hotel

Charlie Picked herself back up and looked at you with a shakey demeanor, “Yeah In about… 55 minutes”

You blink a few times before giving a small chuckle “Well, would you look at the date! I think it’s time I used my 1-per-month trip back home! If you’ll excuse me-“

“Wait! No-“ she trips over herself “We need you here, if dad can see, not only the progress we’ve made, but also that we already have an angel supporter, there’s no way he could say no!”

“Charlie, I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“PleasePleasePlease! I will pay you back, promise! But I- we could really use you there!” Her eyes looked at you, similar to a puppy. She hands clasped together In plea.

You looked away in thought. Seeing him again was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment, any moment for that matter. The last time…well to be honest, the whole exchange hadn’t meant anything to you in quite a while. He could say whatever he wanted about you… it was the words he had to say about Adam that kept your heart ablaze in anger at the Morningstar.

Trash? He should really look in the mirror before saying that about your Adam. But… this could be a good opportunity for the hotel -as much as it pained you to admit- You can only sigh, “fine.. for the hotel…” You let out a small chuckle raising your arm in defeat.

Charlie jumped up and down with glee, repeating a matra of ‘Thank You’s’ before continuing “I get it might be difficult since you’re an Angel.” She tries to give some comfort. But that caught your attention.

“Because I’m an Angel?” You honestly didn’t mean to say it out loud but it came out as a question.

She looks at you confused “yeah, you know, considering I don’t think angels have too kind of thoughts to my dad for being… the devil” she laughs nervously

Oh. Oh. So that’s what she means. So she doesn’t know about your past with him? Not too much a surprise, I doubt Lucifer would bring up any of his failures. But that also made you realize one other thing. Charlie doesn’t know about your marriage with Adam.

Look, you didn’t mean to keep it a secret. In fact you had already assumed they knew. I mean you were sitting literally right next to him and Vaggie already knew who you were. You just thought she would have told Charlie, but knowing this now… it may be best to keep it a secret.

You let out a quick “I understand.” and with that, you all went your separate ways, you did contribute to the decor the best you could, as well as helping Sir Pentious and Nifty with the baking until finally, it was time for Charlie’s dad to arrive.

You walked over to a more remote place in the hotel lobby, look… you may have to interact with him today but you will not be doing it that soon. Instead, you decided your best choice of action was to sit and watch quietly until Charlie decided it was time for you two to meet. And in the meantime, you can mentally brace yourself.

Charlie sighs deeply “Okay everybody, it’s showtime!”

With that she swings the door open revealing the one, the only (thank Father) king of hell himself, Lucifer. Immediately Lucifer pulls his, obviously nervous daughter into his arms. He greets her with excitement before moving on to Keekee, and eventually Razzle and Dazzle.

He eyes the room, clearly covering up any distain for the hotels “character” to protect Charlie’s feelings. At least until he got to the bar which even he couldn’t lie his way through.

Even from the distant view you were from, you could see Alastor and Lucifer weren't going to be the best of buds anytime soon. As soon as they were introduced to one another they immediately got into it. Huh, at least now you have something in common with Alastor at least! If that’s even a good thing.

Their quarrel lasted a few minutes, everyone either waiting for it to be over, completely ignoring it, or enjoying it as entertainment. It lasted what felt like an eternity and was only interrupted when a short and plump woman by the name of ‘Mimzy’ came into the scene.

The old time-y dressed woman was one of Alastor’s friends, you honestly didn’t think he had those but you digress. Eventually once the commotion dies down, you see Charlie give you a nervous smile and wave for you, ‘that’s my cue’ you thought. Anxiety still felt taught in your heart but still you pushed through.

You walk out of your hiding spot, walking up to be next to Charlie. Still trying to keep your presence hidden for as long as you could, savoring those last few moments of peace before a wave of interactions.

Charlie clears her throat and puts on a more professional demeanor despite her nervousness, getting the attention from her dad, “And last but certainly not least, i’d like you to meet our Angelic sponsor-“

“Y/N!?-“ the fallen Angel suddenly started coughing, clearly having choked on his own words. He clears his throat “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting… you to be here” he lets out a chuckle.

“You guys know each other!?” Charlie looked shocked, her voice pitching up in bewilderment.

“We’ve… met before,.” Your voice was low, But still you pushed through “Though, it’s hardly relevant to anything of importance now. Isn’t that right, Morningstar?”

Lucifer's face contorted into an uncomfortable shaky smile, fingertips digging into his Apple-shaped cane. Perhaps he felt some type of remorse for the way things happened back all those years ago, but even if that’s true, you had no plans to forgive him.

He clears his throat “Yes it’s- unimportant Sweetie.. “

You 3 stand in awkward silence for a moment, all you can do is glare daggers at the short ex-Angel in front of you. Eventually though, you couldn’t stand the scilence any longer, “Well Charlie, I have to get something done in my room and I’ll be back to help with the tour in a few minutes, if that’s ok?”

Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, for you to stay with her through the tour, but she knew you wouldn’t just leave and not come back. “Um, yeah that’s fine! Me and Alastor can get the tour started and you can meet us around the 4th floor?”

You gave a quick nod as agreement and make your way to your room. Sighing, you flop down on your bed, feeling the soft warmth as you sink into comfort. Pulling out your phone, you quickly typing a text to Adam but your thumb simply hovered over the send button, anxiety washing over you. Your message was simple,

‘I promise that everything’s ok, but he’s here’’

You were hesitating, should you even tell him that he's here? You didn’t want to worry him over something so insignificant. He has a show tonight, he wouldn’t be at his best if he was constantly thinking you would be in the same room as the devil.

Or even worse, he could just cancel the show completely and march down here and a cause a ruckus which at best would completely destroy the Hotel’s plans and at worse… No, you can’t think of that.

You look at the message again before just setting your phone on your nightstand. 10 minutes… that’s all you need before you go back out there…

…Lucifer was having… let’s just say a tinsy bit of a bad day. Not only has he been forced to interact with that insufferable yellow-toothed sinner but also, he has been reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in a millenia, you.

The anxiety of the day was only topped off with the added stress of being with his daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he LOVES his daughter and is always happy to see her, but the way she talks and acts with these sinners… Ugh, it reminds him too much of himself back in the day.

Her hotel too… He may have given her the place but he never gave it much thought beyond it being a pipe dream for her. He was just trying to do something for his daughter, especially with… Lilith being out of the picture. He just wanted to cheer her up, and unfortunately it seems ‘grandiose plans’ run in the family.

Even now as Charlie and that Red haired Buck show him around, Charlie explains excitedly about different things they have at the hotel. It reminds Lucifer about how she was when she was little, that glow of joy never seemed to fade away from her despite the conditions she lives in.

But even still, as much as he’s trying not to zone out and actually listen to his daughters rambles, his mind keeps trailing back to one, singular thought. You.

What were you doing here? He knows you were there to ‘support the hotel’ as Charlie puts it. But this is the absolute first he’s hearing about it. Why wouldn’t heaven tell him that another Angel was down here, let alone, you most of all. The last time he saw you was… not the best first meeting

Were you here in secret? You clearly weren't fallen, considering you still had your halo and you didn’t look like you’ve been damaged anywhere close to what you’d be if you had fallen. Not to mention… Adam, the exterminations were his idea so why would you even consider an alternative when you are his-

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie interrupted Lucifer’s thoughts, a look of worry on her face. ”You’ve got a little bit of… horn? Sticking out”

Lucifer looks up and sees that he’s subconsciously beginning to phase into his full demon form. He quickly takes his hand and pats the horns as if he was just dusting off his coat, causing the horns to seem to fade away like dust. Wow, today really seems to be getting to him.

“Ah sorry Sweetie, it’s nothing just… uh..” He thinks for a moment, he has to talk to you alone, just for a second. “*Ahem* I was just realizing I had to… use the bathroom, I seem to have had one too many drinks on the way here. Can you tell me where the… bathroom is?” He lets out a chuckle to hopefully cover his lie.

“Oh, it’s just down the hall and to the right, I can take you there-“

Lucifer quickly lets out a loud ”No!“ Before clearing his through again “I can get there on my own, just wait here and I’ll be back!”

Before Charlie can even answer, Lucifer rushes through the halls of the hotel, yelling a ‘I’ll be back soon’ to his Daughter before turning the corner. He lets out a deep breath as he lays out the plan in his head. Figure out why you’re here, and get back to Charlie as fast as inhumanly possible.

Picking his feet up again, he makes his way to the lobby of the hotel, he looks around for a moment before spotting the check in desk. ‘They usually keep visitor information there, right?’

He quickly scours the desk, looking for any forms or documents that have your room number, before finally setting his eyes on your room number. It didn’t take long to find you seeing as there were such few occupants in the hotel.

He memorized your room and repeated it to himself while walking to your door. Past the first, 2nd, then finally, halfway through the hallway on the 3rd floor he finds it. Before he can knock, a sudden wave of worry floods his senses. Seriously, Why would he hesitate now?!

He shuffled around nervously, starting to doubt this little mission of his. Should he really be doing this? Is he really worried about you being here or is the real reason he came here because he wanted to… apologize to you? It’s true that the guilt of what happened all those years ago was still there. But… Digging up old memories just because he’s selfish and wants to apologize to you? He takes a deep breath.

He had to make things better or… at least get some things off his chest. So, with a heavy fist and an even heavier heart, he gently knocks on the hard wooden door…

This had been the longest 10 minutes of your life, trying to decide wether to send Adam the message, or to even return to tour with Charlie at all. As much as it pains you to say, you still become anxiety ridden when he’s in the room or even the mere mention of him. That spark of defiance you had in the lobby earlier being nothing but a small bit of courage. But you remembered that you had promised Charlie you’d be there for her, and you certainly weren’t one to take back a promise.

Before you could decide what to do, you hear an ever so faint knock on your door. Curiosity peaked, You thought Charlie was supposed to be waiting for you on the 4th floor? Had you taken too long and the tour went south? You quickly made your way to the door and hoped you wouldn’t see a very angry Charlie on the other side.

As the wooden-door creaked open, your face slowly turned bitter at The short, impish man who stood on the other side. Lucifer Morningstar. To be honest, you much would have preferred the angry Charlie, TWO very angry Charlies over this.

The man shuffled awkwardly in place, gripping his cane. Neither of you could break the silence . He avoided any eye-contact with you and even you couldn’t hide The disgusted expression on your face when looking at him. Finally after what feels like 3x the eternity you’ve lived thus far, you spoke In shaky words, ”What do you want?”

Lucifer pushed out his words as well as he could, meek they were, but you understood what he said “Can we please…talk?”

Your fingers gripped at the door, nails embedding into the wood, leaving scratches. It took all you had not to slam the door right in his face, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have solved any pressing issues. If anything, it might make him against Charlie’s idea with the hotel, which you couldn’t afford. You take a deep breath before letting out a quick but unsavory,

“5 minutes”

The short demon shuffles his way into the room as you follow in behind him, locking the door to prevent someone like Nifty or Charlie from walking in. Lucifer stands timidly by your nightstand as you stand on the complete opposite side of the room, facing him. Lucifer runs his neck as he lets out a shaky sigh “I just want to know what you’re doing here…” he pauses, he looks like he has more to say but decided not to.

You can only laugh to yourself “I’m here because I believe I think Charlie’s idea has potential to be great. The exterminations, they have to end… that’s why I’m here”

Lucifer seem a bit… surprised? Surprised with your stance on the exterminations. you figured he needed more than that so you continue “I… I’ve never been one for the exterminations. I've been against them from the start. I just didn't know what else to do. Nothing else seemed…right.“

He stayed silent, processing what you told him. He really didn’t understand you, he had a completely warped view of you. “If that’s all you wanted to know I’d rather you take your leave-“

“No!” You step back at the sudden raise in voice but he quickly clears his throat “No, there’s another thing. I would… I’d like to apologize to you about how things went… when we first met.”

You stared at him, the silence once again feeling the air. You didn’t dare break it, you watched as the impish man looked around with anxiety, trying to find the right words. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind. How we- I, treated you. It was unacceptable… Lilith kept telling me to let it go, that she was done thinking about it, but I just couldn’t.” He takes a deep breath “so, I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/n…”

Lucifer Morningstar. The man in front of you looked more akin to a puddle than a person at this point. Sweat dripped from his face, a scrunched mouth filled with a sour taste. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing his attention to the ground. Finally, after many long seconds later. You step forward, grabbing his attention.

“As much as I appreciate the apology, I don’t forgive you.” Lucifer began to speak or at least say he understood but no matter what his reaction was going to be, you interrupted him ‘“-I don’t forgive you, because I’m not the one who deserves it”

To that, Lucifer's head was struck with confusion, “what do you mean?” He tried to make sense of your words, shifting eyes looking around in unease before landing on a framed photo of a candlelit man, an old and forgotten, yet familiar smile on his face… ”You mean… Adam?” Despite his best efforts around you, saying the first man’s name still dripped his words with venom. That same sour taste filling his mouth at the mere mention of him. ”What does-” he stops himself, he knows why.

You breathe in slowly, “What you said to me, all of those years ago, hasn’t meant anything to me in a long time. I’ve gotten through it 10x over and finally understand that I am more than those words” you take another step towards him, closing the gap, “so… there's no use for your apology to me. But Adam… you’ve hurt him more than you couldn’t possibly imagine“

The room was filled with dense air, like any sudden move could kill the king of hell or even you at any second but still you continue. “Adam deserved so much better than what he was forced to have from you, so if anyone deserves your apology, it’s him.” He goes to speak but you shut him down again “but we all know that you are too prideful to do so, and Adam… he’s too stubborn to hear it”

You don’t yell, scream, all of your words coming soft from your lips “So… what you’re going to do, if you truly mean what you say. You will go back to your daughter, forget this conversation ever happened, then you can march back to your big castle with your Loving wife, and leave us be, for the rest of eternity.”

With that, you step away from him, words that have been bubbling inside you for centuries finally having been let out. It felt like several hundred pounds had been lifted off of you. You begin to walk to the door to let him out, wanting the conversation to be over, When you hear him speak a faint ”Ex-Wife actually”

You pause, your teeth already biting your tongue. Honestly, if you really thought about it, it was poetic. The Angel who ruined two marriages, leaving Adam nothing but a broken heart and baggage, ended up with a failed marriage himself.

But even still, you still felt a slight pain of pity for him. Through clenched teeth you let out ”I'm… sorry to hear that. It must be hard.”

This kind of thing, no matter the person, is always tough. You knew the aftermath of it through Adam, even now he struggles with so many issues from it. In that regard, you felt pity for the ruler of hell, but the rest of you felt… glad? Glad that he finally understands just a thorn of the pain he inflicted on Adam.

“The 5 minutes are up so… go now… please.” Your voice shakes near the end, your will power for everything you’ve done starting to break. Lucifer looked equally as defeated, you could tell he wanted to say more but he just nodded his head before walking out the door. slowly, silently, you close the door back before sliding down it as your legs give out.

You wanted to cry, scream, do anything but sit there, but you couldn’t. Your voice hurts from talking, your feet hurt from standing, everything just… hurts.

DING DING DING

A luminous yellow light follows the sound, you lifted your head and saw your phone on your nightstand. Adam… You used all of your strength to make it to your bed, practically having to crawl to avoid any more tiredness in your aching body. You finally land on the soft mattress to pick up your phone, seeing the plethora of messages from Adam.

DIXKMASTER69

Yo Bitch, everything good??

You’ve been typing for like 10 minutes

Answer me

Hellllloooooo??????

Oh, that’s why he was texting. You had completely forgotten your half written message you were debating on sending earlier. You start to delete it and rewrite it when suddenly,

INCOMING CALL FROM DIXKMASTER69

You sigh at the screen, your phone vibration sends chills through your aching arms, it acts as a lifeline for you not to fall asleep on the soft plush beneath you. You press the answer button.

‘Fuck Babe, finally! Are you ok?!” Adam’s voice sounded angry but you know he was just worried “you’ve been texting for like 15 minutes”

“Yeah, don’t worry Adam, I... must have fallen asleep while trying to message you”

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, you dont normally fall asleep in the middle of the day” Adam questions, his voice having obvious worry for you.

“Today’s just been very tiring. But I promise I’m fine, it’s just happened a lot today.” You hated lying to him, your other half, but you know this is something that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

You hear him groan, “how many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you not to overwork yourself for those sinners”

“I know, I’m sorry” you pause “I… I have to go now but I promise I’ll call you later, yeah?“

He was quiet on the other side before he lets out “Yeah, just don’t overdo yourself ok?” His voice was soft, no hint of sarcasm or anger, just him.

You let out a small breathy laugh “I promise. Have fun at your show tonight. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too”

CLICK

You sigh to yourself, you still have the tour to do. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Tomorrow will be a better day. it has to be.

TAGLIST: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn

@ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che

@edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee @pandaquick @white-00-7 @call-me-nyx @adamstruelove @jennieyeager @sillyycatt @solatiium @my-name-is-heartache @parisiterileymoon @titan-senpai @lovely-night-owl-86 @innergardentoadpony @animefan106sposts @starlightstarbrightmyfirststar @lovkayy @ilikedrinkingsoda @barrythestrawberry041 @deadpoolssweetchimi @asegirllovesreadingporn @ripashy @deleted-1-800 @sirenetheblogger @ur1nonlygabi @aweleyirene @n0tmentallystable

(I really hope I didn’t forget anyone if I did, just asked to be added in the comments!!)

Shoutout to these specific asked as well, love you all <3

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monopersona · 2 months ago

Text

Slip of the Tongue

"Let me take care of you." They had already crossed so many lines, touched each other in ways that were so intimate and so far away from modest, but this felt completely different somehow. This wasn’t wandering hands and kisses and whispered confessions in the dark. This was him seeing her in a moment of complete vulnerability. But Sylus—calm, steady Sylus—only met her eyes with patience that felt so easy, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. And then the words just slip out of her mouth. The one where she accidentally says I love you.

Sylus x MC (Lili). Fluff, mild emotional h/c, Sylus taking care of his stubborn injured girlfriend because he really loves her or whatever. 2224 words. A/N: Hello! I am back with another Sylus fic. Not going to lie, this one took a few rewrites. The emotional aspect from MC/Lili's part felt more challenging for me to explore now that I'm just dipping my toes back into writing after a while. But that's why we practice, right? Hope you enjoy this one!

You can read on ao3 here

Series master list here

It had been a long day. A skirmish with wanderers near the N109 Zone had left Lili sore and exhausted. To make matters worse, she’d sprained her ankle so severely that she was now confined to a walking boot for the next two weeks. The doctor had excused her from work, too, which only added to her frustration. She hated being sidelined. It made her feel useless.

By the time she stumbled through her apartment door, all she wanted was to collapse and forget the day had ever happened. She plopped onto her couch, not bothering to do anything else. Her stomach grumbled in protest, but the thought of cooking seemed unbearable after today’s ordeal. She decided she could hold off until morning—at least until she woke up and felt any better.

It was eight at night when the doorbell rang and jolted her awake. Lili groaned, her body protesting as she slowly sat up. She was groggy, starving, and still in pain. Perhaps delaying food hadn’t been the best idea after all. Still, she needed to get to the door because whoever was out front rang the bell again.

“One minute,” she called out, wincing as she limped her way to the door.

“Hello, sweetie.”

Of course, it was Sylus. Dressed in his biker jacket over a black shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly charming. And of course, he was holding a bag from her favorite restaurant—the very one she’d been craving all week but hadn’t had the time nor energy to visit.

Lili could feel her heart skip a beat, but she was too tired to muster more than a weak smile and a meek, “Hi.”

Sylus’s sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in her disheveled appearance, the walking boot, and obvious signs of fatigue. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“A little birdie told me you got injured,” he said, his tone light but laced with concern as he made his way to the kitchen counter. “I had to see for myself because someone hasn’t been answering my calls or texts.”

Though his words were teasing, Lili felt guilt gnawing at her. “I’m sorry, Sylus. I came home and passed out on the couch. I didn’t even hear my phone.”

Sylus hummed in acknowledgment, his smile softening as he pulled out containers of soup from the bag. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not here to chastise you. I was worried, but I get it—you’re exhausted. Let me take care of you. Sit down.”

Lili opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a finger. “No arguments. Sit. Rest.”

She hesitated, her pride in active battle with her need for comfort right now because all she wanted to do was curl under a blanket and cry, but even doing that would be too much of a chore right now. “I can handle myself, you know,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. Sylus raised an eyebrow at her as he transferred the soup into a bowl.

“Of course you can,” Sylus said smoothly, carrying the bowl of soup to her along with a spoon. It was still steaming hot, much to Lili’s delight. “But I’m here, and I’d like to do it for you. Humor me.” When he finally joined her, he held a spoonful of the soup to her lips.

Lili couldn’t help but squint at him. “You do know it’s my ankle that’s injured and not my arms, right?”

“I can definitely see that.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “So you just like feeding people?”

“I like taking care of you.”

Lili’s breath caught. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, without hesitation—left her with a fleeting feeling she can’t really describe, but it’s one she has felt many times under his gaze. She wanted to resist. She wanted to insist she didn’t need doting on, but truthfully, she was too drained to fight him on it. So she rolled her eyes but complied, letting him feed her. The soup was warm and comforting, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered between sips.

“So you tell me often. Yet here you are, letting me feed you,” he shot back, grinning. She couldn’t argue with that.

Sylus fed her spoonfuls of soup, teasing her when she tried to insist she could hold the spoon herself every now and then.

Once Lili had finished the soup, Sylus set the empty bowl aside and turned his attention back to her. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Lili blinked. "What?"

He stood up, offering his hand. "You’ve been knocked out all day, and you probably feel dirty. I’ll help you bathe and change into fresh clothes."

Heat flooded up Lili’s face again. “I can manage, you know!”

"I know you can. But it’s easier with help and you’re exhausted.”

“It's... weird."

Lili hesitated. The proposal felt entirely embarrassing, but there is also the undeniable truth that she really did feel gross. Still, the idea of Sylus helping her bathe made her stomach twist with nervousness. Lili had never been shy with Sylus for the most part. They had already crossed so many lines, touched each other in ways that were so intimate and so far away from modest, but this felt completely different somehow. This wasn’t wandering hands and kisses and whispered confessions in the dark. This was him seeing her in a moment of complete vulnerability, stripped down not just physically but emotionally, too. Maybe that was why she hesitated. But Sylus—calm, steady Sylus—only met her eyes with patience that felt so easy, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he stated, and that should’ve made it easier. It didn’t. If anything, it made her feel more exposed. Because this wasn’t about what he would see, this was about how she felt.

Lili’s eyes widened and she swatted his arm lightly. “Sylus!”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying her reaction. “I’ll be a gentleman and I won’t force you into anything you don’t want to do, but just know I’m here to help if you want it.” That also didn’t make it less embarrassing, but she knew she needed to get this over with anyway. So she finally decided to let him help her to the bathroom.

True to his word, Sylus was gentle and efficient. He helped her take off her walking boot and undress with ease; never lingering too long, never making her feel anything less than safe. His touch was steady and firm where it needed to be as he guided her into the warm water. Lili’s face burned the entire time, but Sylus remained unfazed, even playfully flicking water at her when she got too quiet.

"You’re overthinking again," he mused, rinsing out the last bits of shampoo from her hair.

"Am not," she mumbled.

"You scrunch your nose when you do. It’s cute."

Lili groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Sylus, please." She wished she could just drown in the water right now and teleport to another room.

"Alright, alright, I’ll behave," he teased, helping her out and wrapping her in a fluffy towel. Once she was dried off, he put on her walking boot and handed her a fresh set of clothes before turning around while she changed.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed and feeling almost human again, Sylus looked her over with a satisfied nod. "Much better. Now, let's get you comfortable in bed.”

Sylus made her a cup of tea, fluffed the pillows behind her, and draped a blanket over her legs. He even propped her injured ankle on a cushion, ensuring she was as comfortable as possible.

“You don’t have to do all this."

“I know,” Sylus replied, sitting beside her. “But I want to. You’d do the same for me.”

Lili swallowed. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She wanted to argue, to push him away with some dry remark about not needing a babysitter or distract herself with some back and forth banter. But the truth was, she didn’t want him to leave her side.

She was used to handling things alone. Taking care of herself, picking herself up when she fell, gritting through pain until it dulled into something she could manage. She was strong—she had to be. Especially after her grandmother died. But having Sylus here with nothing but warmth in his eyes and gentleness in his touch, that strength wavered. Not in a way that made her feel weak, but in a way that made her realize she didn’t have to carry everything alone.

It was strange, this feeling. Allowing herself to be cared for, knowing she was safe enough to let her guard down. But it wasn’t bad. In fact, it felt good. Comfortable. Like something she had been denying herself for far too long. She finally exhaled, letting the tension in her shoulders loosen. She will accept this. She will choose to lean on him.

They spent the next few hours talking—about her injury, his day, and everything in between. At some point, they went on to play a few competitive rounds of kitty cards, with Lili coming out as the champion each time.

By the time midnight rolled around, Sylus knew he had to head home. Lili insisted on seeing him to the door despite his protests.

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve been resting all night, thanks to you,” she replied, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ll be fine. Besides, someone has to lock the door.”

They stood there, the air between them charged. Lili crossed her arms loosely over her chest, a soft smile playing on her lips. Meanwhile, Sylus lingered, a hand in his pocket as the other held on to the jacket he took off hours ago. She knew he was reluctant to go. She didn’t want him to go, either. But she didn't know how to say it.

“Thank you for tonight,” Lili said. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Sylus replied, his eyes holding hers. “I’ll see you soon?”

Lili nodded, her smile widening. “Definitely.” There was a pause, the kind that felt heavy with words left unsaid.

“Good night, Lili.”

“Good night, Sylus.”

He turned to leave, and that’s when it happened.

“I love you,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze. Sylus stopped in his tracks, his back still to her, and Lili’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what she’d just said. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath, the mortification that had melted away hours ago coming back in full force again. Without another word, she slammed the door shut, leaning against it as her heart raced too much for her liking. What did I just do? she thought, pressing her hands to her face. Why did I say that?!

Outside, Sylus stood frozen. I love you. His mind replayed her words over and over. A small smile spread across his face. He had known for a long time that he loved her—had known it since the first moment he saw her, even when she’d hated him. He knew it in the way his chest tightened when she smiled, in the way he found himself thinking about her even when she wasn’t around. He had just been waiting for her to be ready. And now, it seemed that she was. Even if she only realized it at this very moment.

Without thinking, he turned back to the door and knocked knowing well that she was still behind the door. Lili’s heart nearly stopped at the sound. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Maybe if I just pretend I’m not here…

The knock was heard again, more insistent this time. With a groan, Lili opened the door just a crack, her face peeking out the tiniest bit as she kept her gaze downward. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Yes?” she said, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

Sylus didn’t say a word. He simply pushed the door open gently, stepped inside, and cupped her face in his hands. Before she could protest, he captures her lips in a kiss. He poured his heart into it—into her. Deeply. Passionately. Lovingly. He would leave no room for doubt.

Lili’s mind went blank, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt as she kissed him back with the same fiery intensity. When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless.

“I love you, too,” Sylus said, his voice rough but steady.

Lili blinked up at him, so relieved but also still in shock. “You… you do?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I do. I always have. Have I ever made you feel otherwise?”

A slow smile spread across her face, the embarrassment finally melting away once again. “Well, no.”

Sylus chuckled, pulling her into his arms. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other, before Sylus spoke again. “I’m staying here tonight, if you don’t mind.”

Lili looked at him with the softest of smiles. “I don’t mind at all.” A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic and are having a great day/night! Please feel free to let me know what you thought of the fic. I'd love any constructive feedback!

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fanatic564 · 4 months ago

Text

Abandon Weakness (Am I a Weakness?) (DPxDC) Chapter 1

Chp 2 Learning Weakness 1 2 AO3 Link Here

Summary

Danny can't help but feel as if he's been in this position before. A bag hastily thrown into his arms. Someone leading him away from a threat. The sweet, acidic taste of Lazarus water ectoplasm at the back of his throat. It's all so familiar it's almost nostalgic.

A Prequel to Learning Weakness, showing Danny escaping Amity Park and making his way to Gotham. Notes:

I promise I'm working on the next chapter of Learning Weakness. But I've had this outlined since chapter one, so I knew how Danny made it to Gotham. I got inspired to actually write it out. (I might be procrastinating, its fiiiiine).

"What do you think Father is like?"

The question broke the comfortable silence that surrounded the two small boys laying next to each other on the bed.

"Strong."

"That's it?"

"What else could he be? There's a reason Mother and Grandfather chose him to bear the heir of the family name."

"Hm."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well. It's just… you are everything that Mother and Grandfather are. Strong. Skilled. Unstoppable. But what about me? I'm nothing like any of you. I'm weaker and I can't bring myself to be as ruthless as you all. So surely I must take after Father?"

Another beat of silence, before one of the boys shuffled closer, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the other.

"If that is true, then Father must be kind. He must be compassionate, and too good for the League. Because that is what you are, Ahki. And I swear, I will do everything in my power to make sure you can stay that way. So that when we meet him, he will know in an instant that you are his son."

"I love you, Dami."

"I love you too, Danyal."

~ ~ ~

"Come on, Danny. Now is not the time to be spacing out." Danny shakes his head. Sam is right. He can think about the past when he's not actively being hunted.

"Yeah man. We're almost there." Come now Habibi, the first safehouse is just up ahead.

Danny pushes the thought aside. He runs faster, using his ghost abilities to drag Sam and Tucker down the street and through the wall of a building.

Said building is an old abandoned house at the edge of Amity Park. The place is boarded up with no visible entrance for a normal person, but that can't stop someone who can phase through walls like they aren't there. Inside, most of the furniture is covered with dust and grime. All except for the dining room table, which has been cleared by the teens for their own use.

On top of the table, there is a lidded box next to a pile of papers. Danny pulls his bag up onto the table next to them.

"You sure you'll be okay, dude? I can still get you set up somewhere. Make you a bank account and a fake ID and everything. I only need a little bit of time-"

"If you couldn't tell, we're out of time already. He can't wait any longer"

"You guys have done a lot for me. I can't thank you enough. But, you can't get any more involved in this. The Guys in White already have you on their radar and once Mom and Dad get them to join the search, plausible deniability is your best shot at safety."

His friends look at each other before turning back at him. "If you're really sure."

"I am. You guys should go. Your houses will likely be one of the first places they look and you need to be there when they do."

The three teens stand there for a moment staring at each other. The moment ends when Sam flings her arms around Danny to cling to him.

"I'm gonna miss you. You better contact us as soon as you find a place to settle down. You hear me Daniel Fenton‽"

Danny laughs lightly in response before looking over to Tucker. "What, not gonna join the goodbye hug? You wound me Tuck."

Tucker rolls his eyes before moving to join the hug. Once he is within reach, Danny wraps his own arms around both of them. His core hums as he holds two of the people closest to him. Eventually though, he has to let them go. They say their final goodbyes before Danny turns them intangible and herds them out of the building.

And then he is alone.

Alone to finally think about everything that has happened. And just how similar it is to what happened to him before, all those years ago.

Family members wanting him dead. A sibling being left behind (and Danny feels a pang in his chest at that. At least with Jazz, he has a way to contact her again, when all is said and done.) Danny escaping with the help of someone he loves. Not knowing what is in store for him past this point. Danny running from a throne he doesn't think he is qualified to take.

~ ~ ~

Before Danny lived at Amity Park, before he was killed by the portal, before he became a ghost fighting vigilante, Danyal Al Ghul had been killed by his own brother. Well, before even that he had been a part of a cult of literal assassins. One of the heirs to said cult, in fact, the son of Talia Al Ghul and a man named Bruce Wayne. But, since a cult of assassins didn't need more than one heir, Danyal's grandfather had ordered a duel between the twin. And thus, Danyal's death.

Of course, as seemed to be a recurring theme in his life, Danny did not stay dead.

Instead, with the sound of clocks in his ears and the burning taste of the pit he was thrown into in his mouth, Danny awoke from his death.

(Clockwork would later explain his role in the event to him. How it hadn't been his time yet, and so he influenced Mother into putting Danny in the pits. How he watched the ensuing journey to assure he made it to his destination in one piece as opposed to alive, where the beginning of his journey was death, and the end result would always be death even if years down the line . )

He made it to Amity Park, and was eventually found and adopted by the Fenton Family. It was like comparing night and day, comparing life with the Fentons to life with the League of Assassins. While the league was strict, with rules being strictly enforced and discipline served ruthlessly, the Fentons had a more… hands-off approach. Hands-off meaning barely there, always in the basement working on their 'research'. At first, Danny had been ecstatic for the distance. Less rules barely any, no discipline having to fend for himself , no having to learn how to murder and hurt and….it had been everything Danny had wanted.

Of course Danny missed his brother, and Mother, and even Grandfather on occasion. But Danny could never return, never see them again, in order to keep all of them safe. And so he enjoyed the freedom that living with the Fentons provided.

With that freedom, Danny did research. He learned more about his father, how he was a billionaire living in the city of Gotham who had a habit of adoption that was frankly concerning. He learned that Gotham itself had to be chock full of ectoplasm, with how full of crime and fear the city was. The city had heroes and vigilantes and crime lords and-

And his brother.

Those next few years were a blur. Danny gained close friends in the form of Sam and Tucker. Danny slowly learned to push aside his assassin past and live a normal life. Then he died again. And then he became a vigilante. And then he gained another sister in the form of Ellie. And then he defeated Pariah Dark. And the Jazz went to college left him alone with them.

And then his parents discovered it all.

(Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to know he was no longer safe in Amity Park.)

~ ~ ~

Danny and his friends had a plan for if his parents ever discovered that he was Phantom and they didn't react well. They put together a to-go box for him to grab before fleeing, with an ecto-infused burner phone, some snacks and water bottles, a decent supply of ecto shots, spare clothes, and a few other miscellaneous items. The last part of their plan was supposed to be finding a place for him to flee to. But, they thought they had more time, didn't think this would happen so soon. And so all Danny has to go off of is the pile of papers next to his box, with lists of pros and cons for several different locations that he can go to.

His friends don't know this, but Danny has long since made his decision on where to go. He can't go to where Jazz is going to college, there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. In fact, most places they discussed didn't. However, there is one option, all the way at the bottom of the pile, that Danny knows will be perfect. To Sam and Tucker, it is a last resort spot, somewhere to go if there is absolutely no other option. Despite the abundance of apparent ectoplasm in the air, the risks are not worth it in their eyes. The ectoplasm seems like the only pro in a sea of cons for them. But for Danny? There is a second pro that outweighs every con tenfold.

Danny can finally reunite with his brother. With Dami. End Notes: Feel free to point out any mistakes.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danyal al ghul #danny phantom #danny fenton #fanatic fics #learning weakness

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buggyboba · 4 days ago

Text

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𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | Hiiii, thank you for being so patient with me, I know it’s long overdue, (October is when it was sent in, I am so so so sorry it took forever) but it’s here! I hope you enjoy it! Thasmin is implied, and this is my like third time writing Thirteen, the first two were in kinktober, but really do we count kinktober? This is a completely safe for work fic, I am proud of myself. I really don’t have much to say here, please enjoy!

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | Anon asked | Could I please request a Dhawan!Master x reader where when the reader first met the master (when he was pretending to be O) the reader had mentioned their love for phantom of the opera and little does the reader know that the master has put a trigger/s in the reader's mind using music/tune from phantom. Sometime later The reader, the doctor, and yaz travelled back to France in the 1870's and are drawn into a mystery involving a 'Phantom' in an old manor house/ theatre (or if you want it can be another building) anyway the reader gets separated from their friends and they hear the music/tune activating a trigger, they end up in a dressing room with a large mirror,candles and the door now locked. The reader is hypnotized (I'm sorry I just love the mirror trick), and by the time the doctor realizes what has happened, it's too late to save them. (Maybe the doctor remembers how the reader said that the master told the reader, "My power over you grows stronger yet...")

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Hypnosis, The Master uses the TCE but it's not shown. Other than that, none I can think of.

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Dhawan!master x Fem!Reader

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 3800

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

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̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ Some Time Ago 　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶

The Australian outback was interesting enough—no, it wasn’t. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You had been staying at one of the doctor’s friends ’ house. O, it was such an odd name. Well, it wasn’t his real name. You knew it was the MI6 name, and you respected his privacy. Ryan and Yaz were out doing work to learn more about the light people. The Doctor was in the TARDIS doing something you weren’t sure about, leaving you, Graham, and O in the living room.

You lie on the couch, your arm over your eyes, and your hand drumming on your stomach. You lightly hummed; it wasn’t a specific tune at first, until ‘Music of the Night’ popped into your head from Phantom of the Opera. The drumming on your stomach took on the beat of the song, and when Graham went out to the porch for some air, O cast a look at you; he moved to get up, moving to sit on the arm of the couch to not disturb you. “Phantom of the Opera.” He said, which startled you out of your head. “It’s no wonder why it got so popular. It's a tragic love story with catchy melodies. It's an odd thing they did a sequel to, Love Never Dies,” he shrugged.

You looked at him and smiled a bit. “Love a bit of Broadway. Phantom is my favorite.” You explained, “Lover Never Dies has some good music and some odd choices, but it does continue the plot well enough. I don’t like some character choices, but the music is still good.” You said. “Phantom will always hold a special place in my heart. Not just the musical, I enjoyed the book too.” You said, nodding.

“Ever watch the old black-and-white movies?” he asked, his eyes sliding over you. It felt innocent enough, and you assumed it was just the MI6 training to be observant.

“Oh yeah, and some from the 80s, one where Robert Englund was the Phantom; it was a horror movie, imagine my surprise. Gory.” You laughed a bit. “But yeah, I enjoy the story and the music.” You nodded a bit.

O nodded, inspecting you again. His gaze was warm, but there was something underneath you couldn’t place. “Do you sing?” He asked, and you sort of shrugged.

“Sometimes, not professional or anything, just for fun. Haven’t lately thought life has been…” You paused, trying to think of the way you wanted to describe your time with The Doctor and The Fam.

“Intense?” He suggested, seemingly pulling the word from your mind, and you nodded.

“It’s not bad, it’s exciting and scary, but the sights are fantastic.” You said, sitting up and moving over so he could sit if he wanted. He slid off the arm of the couch, his leg bumping yours, and you both shared this shy sort of smile.

“I imagine, seeing the stars, experiencing fantastical things, it’s worth the danger.” He smiled, and you nodded again, thinking. You loved the adventures, but sometimes you wondered.

“It is, but sometimes I wonder, all of this, dangerous situations, dangerous aliens, it's…” You trailed off once again, trying to decide how you wanted to word things, and once again, he seemed to pull what you were thinking, that MI6 training really doing over time.

“You are wondering if you will survive it.” He nodded. “I think you will, though, with her track record.” He paused, “Oh, forget I said that.” He gave a pleading smile, but you frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, inspecting him, your face in a light grimace.

“Oh, nothing, nothing really. I am sure you will be fine.” He put his hands up in a placating manner. “But really, forget it.” He insisted you wanted to press more, but there was this odd feeling in your mind, and you shrugged. “Instead—” he began, “Why don’t you sing for me? I want to hear it. Go on.” He grinned at you.

“Sing, really? Right now?” You shook your head a bit, shifting. It wasn’t like you were nervous, but you didn’t sing in front of people, not really.

“Yeah, go on, sing for me, angel of music.” He grinned that charming grin, pleased with his joke. You laughed and shook your head, moving to sit up more.

“Fine, okay, okay.” You relented, “Might as well stick with the theme, right?” You teased a bit. You cleared your throat and hummed a note to find the right one. Once you had it, you began.

“Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while. Please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me. We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But if you can still remember, stop and think of me. Think of all the things we've shared and seen. Don't think about the way things might have been.” You sang and then gave a little flourish bow, laughing.

O listened to you and gave a nod after your few bars of the song. “Wow, Little Lotte indeed,” he said, watching you intently; you blushed a bit under his gaze. “It was good; you shouldn’t blush. You sound fine.” He assured you, but you sort of shrugged. “I think if I had to choose a song, it would be Phantom of the Opera; can’t pass up the most iconic song.” He mused and hummed a bit. “The line ‘My power over you grows stronger yet’ is powerful, don’t you think?” He said and grinned at you; you felt hazy for a moment but then blinked and nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, I bet you have the voice for it.” You nodded, he gave a short laugh, and shrugged.

“Yes, well, I doubt that very much, but,” he shook his head, “though perhaps there is something much like the phantom I can do.” His eyes got darker, and his voice hypnotic.

̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ NOW　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶

Paris, 1870

The veering sound of the TARDIS filled the alley, and the leaves that littered the cobblestone pushed away in a billow as the blue box materialized. The familiar blonde popped her head out, then her arm, her sonic swept across the way for a moment, and it told her they were in the right place. She stepped out and brushed her iconic jacket off, pocketing the sonic. She looked around. Yaz stepped out dressed in a dress more appropriate for the period, and you stepped out after her, also dressed appropriately.

“Alright, Fam! We are in the right place. I am getting massive energy readings, so keep your eyes open, stay close; we don’t know exactly what we are dealing with, so no running off.” She said, looking between you and Yaz. You gave her a look, and she shifted. “What?”

“Oh, like we are the ones that run off.” Yaz hid a laugh behind her hand, feigning a yawn when the Doctor looked at her.

“Okay, well, keep up then.” She shook her head. You shook your head and looked around. For a brief moment, you thought you heard a faint melody, but neither Yaz nor The Doctor said anything about it. You brushed it off as a lack of sleep; you hadn’t been sleeping well lately—nightmares. You all made your way to the main street, and as Yaz and The Doctor spoke, a paper caught your attention. It spoke about an opera house closing for the season due to the mysterious disappearance of seven people. You frowned as you looked over the words.

“Doctor, I think I found what we are looking for.” You pointed at the paper, she walked closer to read it quickly, and put her hand on your shoulder.

“Brilliant, good work, let’s find this opera house.” She said, and after a quick conversation with the stall owner, you were pointed in the right direction. It was a couple of streets over. The stall owner suggested leaving it alone, as no one had been there since the disappearances, and those who went in didn’t come back out. She thanked him but started walking in that direction anyway.

You trailed behind Yas and The Doctor, watching the people around you, and you felt watched back. It was an odd feeling, familiar but with an undertone of danger, like you were being hunted. As you made it to the opera house, you heard the melody again. Your body tensed and your heart raced. Your fight or flight kicked in, and you almost turned around to run back to the TARDIS, but a sudden hazy feeling washed over you and you calmed, catching up to Yaz and The Doctor.

“You okay?” The Doctor asked, looking at you; you nodded and smiled.

“A bit Phantom of the Opera, isn’t it?” You said, motioning to the opera house. “Disappearances in an opera house, in Paris, in 1870.” You laughed a bit. “Like this mystery was tailor-made just for me.” You joked, but she eyed you and then the building.

“Yeah, odd.” She murmured. “Hey,” she said louder, looking at you again. “I want you to stay close, okay, where I can see you.” She said, touching your arm lightly, you felt an unfamiliar pull, and something in your mind fought it, pulling your arm back a little, and you nodded slightly.

“Yeah, okay.” You said shifting, you inspected her. “Everything okay?” you asked softly. She nodded and smiled that smile she gave when she was pretending everything was perfect.

“Yeah, I am sure it is.” She looked away from you and back at the opera house again; unfortunately, the front was chained closed.

“Well, we are not going that way,” Yaz said, looking around to see if there was another way. “Maybe the back?” she suggested, and The Doctor nodded, starting around back. As you made your way around the side, your eyes caught sight of a window cracked open invitingly. Your eyes lingered on it, and there was a tug in your mind. Before you could react, your body was moving towards it. As your hands reached the ledge, a hand grabbed your shoulder. You gasped, startled, and the tug on your mind faded.

“Found a way in?” The Doctor’s voice rang in your ear. You nodded softly.

“Yeah, appears so,” you muttered sort of in thought. The Doctor looked concerned. She looked you over, and you had a sort of distant look. She knew that look. Why did she know that look?

“Hey, why don’t you go back to the TARDIS? You don’t look so well, and I think you should rest.” She tested carefully, but you shook your head.

“What, and miss this? I am alright.” You said flatly, waving her off.

“No, I think you aren’t.” She said sternly. “You have been acting off since we got here.”

You shook your head no again, “I am fine.” You shrugged her hand off your shoulder and reached for the window ledge again, but she grabbed your arm and turned you to face her properly.

“I think you may have been compromised.” She said suddenly. “You have been acting, well, not like yourself, distracted, dazed.” She continued, “Let’s go back to the Tardis and do a health scan, yeah?” She urged, and you looked at her with a look that wasn’t your own, one she hadn’t seen on your face before—anger? Hate? It wasn’t your look. “Hey…” She raised her hand softly, “Listen, okay, can I just… Can I just look at your mind really fast? It will only take a moment.” She asked, trying to make light of the worry that was growing in her. You pulled away and pushed her hand off of you, your mind hazy and angry.

“That is a gross breach of privacy, Doctor.” You spoke sharply, “I am fine, tired but fine. We don’t have time for this. People are missing, and you are wasting time trying to play psychoanalyst with me. My thoughts and my mind are private, no.” You said in a tone that breathed finality. Before she could try anything else, you moved through the window, landing with a soft thud on your feet in a room on the other side; the only light was from the window. Everything had been covered with sheets; dust hadn’t even settled yet. The Doctor and Yaz made their way through the window, looking around the room as well.

“Hey!” The Doctor said, trying to catch your arm, but you moved away.

“We can talk about it later.” You said in a mutter as you moved to leave the room, Yaz caught The Doctor’s arm and shook her head.

You walked out into the foyer. It was beautiful; everything was still there like people would be back any moment. You began walking towards the auditorium, keeping the large double doors open for light from the front of the house. It was breathtaking: the red velvet chairs, the gold fixtures in the dim sunlight, and the boxes that had a view of the stage. Movement caught your eye, and a shadow moved across one of the boxes. It startled you, but you found your voice; there were missing people to find after all. “Hello?” You called. There was no answer. “I, uh, I am a detective. I am looking for the missing—” You started with a lie, but only sort of; you were looking for the missing people after all.

“Who are you talking to?” The Doctor’s voice startled you again.

“There was someone up there.” You pointed towards the box where you had seen the shadow. She looked at the box and then pointed her Sonic at it.

“There is no one there.” She said, carefully looking at you.

“There was! I saw someone move up there.” You said firmly, she nodded, and kept an eye on you as you moved towards the stage, climbing up onto it from the side. You looked around and moved to pull your phone from the pouch in your dress. You turned on the flashlight to see better, since the light didn’t reach back to the stage. Maybe it was a trick of the light before; you didn’t know why you were so mad at The Doctor. She was just concerned about you. You made a mental note to apologize when you got back to the TARDIS.

“Wait! Don’t go ahead!” She called out, but you moved to check the wings, which led you into a hallway that was littered with props from the performance the opera house was supposed to be putting on. You yelled when your light washed over a dummy that was wrapped in a sheet. You heard the rapid footfall of Yaz and The Doctor but it stopped as it got to you. You turned to look behind you, and no one was there.

“D-Doctor?” You called, there was no answer, “Yaz?” You called, and once again, only silence answered you. Your heart was in your throat; you moved to go back to where you had come from, only to find another hallway where the stage should be. This wasn’t right; something was very wrong. “Doctor?” You called out. “DOCTOR!” You yelled, but the only sound was from your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should stay calm; you had to be. Being scared was okay, but you needed to remain calm for The Doctor. Panicking would lead to stupid decisions, and stupid decisions could and would get you killed. You took a breath and counted a few times to calm yourself down and ground yourself. You turned back around and continued down the hallway. Maybe if you were lucky, you would find the missing people. Hopefully they were alive and well, and this was just some odd pocket dimension situation, and The Doctor would figure it out and save you, or you would figure it out and save yourself.

The Doctor and Yaz ran when they heard you yell, but when they reached the hallway, it was empty. “Doctor? Where did she go?” Yaz asked, starting to move to open a door in the hallway. the doctor scanned the area with the sonic again and frowned. Something was messing with the signals.

“I don’t know.” She said weakly. “Tread carefully, we need to stay together… I said not to run off, and they always run off—” She mumbled.

“Now is not the time, Doctor.” Yaz said as she stepped into the room. The Doctor followed; it was a prop closet, but The Doctor froze when she saw it. Sitting on a stool was a box with a purple ribbon tied around it and a note attached. ‘To The Doctor’ in neat cursive.

“What do you think it is?” Yaz asked, going towards the box carefully, but The Doctor pulled her back.

“Yaz! Don’t touch it.” She said quickly, moving to inspect it herself. She lightly touched it, and when nothing happened, she pulled the ribbon and opened the top of the box. She gasped and stepped back quickly, panic written on her face.

“Doctor, what is it?’ Yaz moved to look in the box; inside were seven toy soldier-sized dolls. “Doctor?” She asked and went to grab one.

“Don’t!” The Doctor grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Those are the missing people.” She said her tone was tight, laced with worry and anger. “We have to find her now; she is in danger.”

“The toys, they are…” Yaz asked, looking at her, trying to understand.

“The Master, He has this device, a Tissue Compress Eliminator. It, uh, it’s matter condensation, shrinks them down to the size of a doll, killing them in the process.” She tried to explain quickly. “Those were the missing people. This was—is a trap for me and her. Do you remember the last time we met The Master, the spy stuff? He said something to her. Do you remember what it was?” She breathed out, rushing out of the room, yelling your name.

“No, I didn’t hear it. I—” Yaz shook her head.

As you walked down the hall, you heard it again; that melody filled your senses. It pulled at you; it was terrifying, but it was warm and inviting. It was like it was guiding you. You walked carefully, trying not to make a sound, as you inched closer to where the music was coming from. It washed over you; you felt yourself surrendering. It was like a promise, a promise of safety, even if in the back of your mind fear was prickling, telling you that this was wrong, that this was danger. Your body moved without your permission, but your mind was so hazy. You stood in front of a door, your hand outstretched. For a brief moment, you heard The Doctor, yelling your name, begging you to respond. Your mouth wouldn't open to respond. Your hand pushed the door open, and it was a dressing room. Your other hand dropped your phone, slipping out and clattering to the floor. You stepped in; there was a large mirror, and candles lit the room; there were flowers; it was so pretty. This must have been the diva's dressing room.

“Did you like my little gift to you?” His voice was in your head; you were being called, pulled towards the mirror. “Just like your little musical,” his voice wasn't cruel, but it certainly wasn't friendly. “I will whisk you away. The Doctor will cry and be upset, but what she doesn't know is my power over you grows stronger yet.” Even though you couldn't see him, you knew he was grinning. “Don't try to fight it, little dove.” He gave a giggle. “Keep walking, come on, nearly there.” You were in front of the mirror now, and as if he were behind you, he appeared in the mirror before he reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you through.

“I love a good entrance.” He grinned and pulled you with him further in. It was a console room, his TARDIS. “I do hope you appreciated the trouble I went through, all of this for you, charming, right? You should feel special that I did this for you. I usually pull out all the stops for her.” He said, almost hissing out ‘her'. “Oh, but you…oh, pet, you are fascinating, and I am going to enjoy pulling back those layers to find out why you are fascinating. Maybe if I like what I find, I'll keep you.” He mused, flipping a few levers, and you tried to clear your mind. “No, no, no, not until we are away from here, where she won't be able to find us. Sit.” He motioned, and you fought against your mind. “Oh, my dear.” He frowned and walked over to you, grabbing your chin; his look got more sinister. “I am The Master, and you will obey me.” He said his influence pushed any resistance you had down as you obeyed and sat down. He returned to the console. “Oh, this trick will be so fun, just you watch.” He said and flipped a few switches.

The Doctor and Yaz frantically searched rooms, and all at once there was a shift. The Doctor felt it first and grabbed Yaz, pulling her towards her, shielding her with her body, holding her close, one hand on the back of her head tucking her under her chin, and the other on her back holding her against her, as the opera house faded to nothing, leaving them standing in an open space with the box a few feet away and your phone near it.

The Doctor moved to grab your phone, opening it, and the last message was from an unknown number. When she opened it, a melody played, and she made a face.

“Oh, she got that right before we landed when we were changing in the wardrobe,” Yaz said, looking over her shoulder.

“That's how he got her.” The Doctor clutched your phone. “We have to find her.” She breathed out, looking at Yaz.

“We will; he will slip up, or she will find a way.” Yaz nodded, holding her arm, squeezing it softly, trying to comfort The Doctor. She had faith in the doctor that she would find you before something irreparable happened. The Doctor knew The Master wouldn’t let you go so easily, and that’s what worried her. What would he do to you while dragging them on this goose chase to find you, if he even did that? Something told her he wasn’t going to be found until he wanted to be, and by then it would be too late for you, in one way or another.

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Taglist: @sessa23 @toastvogel @super-just-because @kurtsmellsliketeenspiritt @chaoswithrory @d3lta-200x @koscheiluv @that-one-creep @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-noble-watermelon @penumbra-the-unicorn @lilyfrogisnotneurotypical @millabela @Variansimpclaire @neurodiverse-dumpingground @sirenympha @frillytimetraveler @skarkkie @gh0stm0tel @bakusquadobsessed @bingewatchingmylifegoby @holydreamerpastadragon @lotus-ignis @ghost-of-a-bee

If you would like to be added to the tag list [ x ]

#doctor who #the master x reader #doctor who x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master x f!reader

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anxious-witch · 10 months ago

Text

Inspired by this post by @purgatory606 because after seeing that, I wanted to talk about DBDA weapons/fighting styles of characters. Well Charles and partially Edwin here, I might also analyze Crystal and Esther in another post.

I'd like to start from the scene from the first episode where Charles is trying to teach Edwin self defense and he chooses boxing. Which is quite interesting, if a bit odd choice.

He gives Edwin boxing gloves, and then required him to his his palms, albeit protected, but still. Such an odd choice? Without anger or adrenaline from the fight, most people find it quite difficult to hit something-or someone particularly hard. Doubly so when a person holding a target you should be hitting is someone you care for. It's difficult to override your naturally instinct to pull your punch back, which is what I think happens to Edwin. Especially because he generally isn't someone who leans into violence, even in situations where it would be warranted.

I think we can presume Charles was either teaching Edwin how to fight in case he finds himself weaponless, given he doesn't have an infinite backpack, or he was judging by his own instict, not seeing how Edwin wouldn't want to use brutal force. If anything, Edwin would likely do better with a more precise, long range weapon. Like a sword, or a bow.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let's look at Charles' weapons of choice and how he utilizes them. Throughout the s1, we see him use a cricket bat, a music box(?), a molotov cocktail and a sword.

Cricket bat is his preferred weapon of choice and as the og post said, bats are for pure, raw pain. Traditionally there is not much elegance or finesse with it. You use a bat when you want to inflict the most amount of hurt in the shortest and most brutal way possible. What I find interesting is the way Charles wields it, which he does in a way that is almost elegant.

We see him twirl it on several ocassions and while he does hold it in a way that one would expect would inflict most damage, I am not sure we ever see him use it that way? Esther knocks him down with her cane before he can, he doesn't actually get to use in on the Cat King, he beats up the Night Nurse with a music box, not his bat, he breaks David's mirrors in a way that he actually sends the bat flying, not actively smashing mirrors with brute force like one would expect. And when he faces Esther's snake, his bat breaks.

What does that tell us about Charles? I think his bat actually reflects him quite a bit. Both how he sees himself, and how people who don'tknow him well do. So many people make a mistake of writing his off as just the brawn, of someone only there to deliver lethal sort of damage. Even Charles himself seems to sometimes think of himself that way. Of someone capable of great violence. Because he thinks that's simoly what he is. A bat cannot be used for anything else but direct damage.

Except....Charles finds a way. His attacks may be brutal, but they are very precise as we saw in David scene. And even when we consider other insance when he used different weapons, thr only time his blow didn't land as expected was against Esther in episode one.

The attack against the Night Nurse was brutal amd seemingly uncontrolled, but he got the job done precisely the way he intended? He didn't kick her around mindlessly, he kicked her off the cliff to get rid of her and the sea monster they were trying to lull to sleep. It was violent yes, but he was still very aware of what he was doing.

Throwing the molotov cocktail at the Dollheaded Spider? Also very calculated to allow him and Edwin time to run. Hiss fight against the snake? Once he concluded brutal force of his bat wasn't working, he choose a very precise and deadly weapon instead. And used it perfectly, in quite an elegant move, too!

In conclusion, I think Charles' weapon of choice has more to do with his perception of self rather than his actual realities or abilities. Which I think is why we get a scene of the bat breaking in the last episode and have it replaced with a sword! His perception of self changed from a weapon more used for it's brutal force to a weapon more commonly associated with knights and heroes. I'd be very curious to see if the bat returns to s2 and how it'll be utilized

#charles rowland #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #rio's rambly analysis

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k-zuzulibrary · 5 months ago

Text

민기 s.mg

song mingi 𖹭 reader

who are you?

synopsis: after more banter with mingi, you reflect on your meeting with seonghwa, the president of the programming club, and the excitement of being accepted into a club that could help you achieve your dream of creating your video game. however, your enthusiasm is quickly tempered by your frustration when you are paired with mingi to work on some designs for an event.

content: typical college romance, significant hate to significant others, robotic!reader, lighthearted fluff, probably an inaccurate depiction of art majors (even as an art major myself), not proofread, lowercase intended.

zuzu's note: i decided to write this back-to-back with the first chapter so don't expect any updates so soon lol ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ inspired by the kbl semantic error.

main masterlist.

4:30 AM. you breezed past the half-conscious zombies (aka college students) in the hallway, either trudging toward class or escaping one. you, on the other hand, cheerfully stepped into your classroom, taking in the dim space with a dreamy sigh. before you could fully settle in, a body bumped into you. you looked up to see a figure in a vibrant orange tracksuit, stepping back and turning to face you. your eyes traveled from his outfit to his face. song mingi.

you sighed, rolling your eyes. you were already contemplating dropping the class right then and there. sadly, art history was a required subject. "are you gonna take a seat, love?" he tilts his head toward the classroom, hand holding onto the strap of his bag. the nickname he settled for after failing to find your true name was the bane of your existence. love. you scoffed to yourself.

"why..." you grumbled.

"well—"

"why, God, why?" you interrupted him and stared at the ceiling, eyes closed and brows furrowed. you took your seat before he could beat you to it — too bad, you could still see his stupid outfit in your peripheral vision as he took the seat next to you, scootching it closer, once again invading your personal space.

you took out one of your extra notebooks and set it upright on your desk between you and mingi's side of the table, as though it would set some sort of boundary between you but he probably has already long broken that boundary.

complete silence.

well, almost. the faint ticking of the clock filled the room, accompanied by footsteps echoing in the hallway and the soft sound of mingi's breath near your ear. his finger tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound just enough to get under your skin.

then, with a single deliberate poke, your notebook tipped over, sliding onto your side of the desk.

your gaze flicked down to the notebook, then up to mingi, meeting his sweet, unapologetic smile.

"so," he began, tone light but voice deep, "what’s your favorite beverage?" you sighed, already suspecting it was another one of his orange antics. you opted to keep your mouth zipped and you focused on your activities. mingi, suspecting your hesitance, rested his cheek on his fist and leaned against the table. he smiled. "let me guess — kq energy?"

you stiffened.

he giggled. "really? you like that sewage crap? i never would've known you had such garbage taste in beverages after hearing you admire my artwork, i'm embarrassed for you, really—"

"it's an acquired taste." you defend yourself. "it's bitter at first, but once i realized that nobody else buys it from the vending machines, it'll never sell out—" within an a flash, mingi scurries out of the table and runs to the exit.

you didn't want to know what he was up to now. only glad he was out of your space, you moved his bag a chair farther away, and placed your bag on the chair next to you.

soon, mingi walked back into the classroom carrying an obnoxiously large number of kq energy cans, stuffing some into his bright orange jacket pockets while balancing the rest. he nonchalantly sat back down beside you.

you raised an eyebrow. "are you… okay?" you asked, giving him a once over. "did you just raid the vending machine?"

mingi shrugged. "can’t have you hogging all the good stuff, can i?"

you narrowed your eyes. "you bought all the kq energy so i wouldn’t?"

mingi grinned, leaning back in his chair. "exactly. a little self-control might do you good."

you scoffed. "self-control? you’re the one who just spent your weeks budget on caffeine."

mingi smirked. "worth it. at least i’m not the one with a dependency issue."

annoyed, you snatched one of the cans from his desk. "well, guess what? finders keepers."

mingi gasps dramatically, as if you've committed a grave sin — at the same time, surprised by your immaturity. "but that’s stealing! "

"i call it karma," you reply with a smirk, popping open the can.

the banter pauses for a moment as mingi leans in, his expression unusually serious. “careful there, love. trying to match my energy? you might fall for me...”

you froze for half a second, then you rolled your eyes. “unlikely.”

another student walked in, slowly breaking the tension. mingi glanced at her before he leaned back casually into his chair but you can’t shake the thought of the smug grin on his face for the rest of the day.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.

you adjusted your grip on the sheet of paper in your hands as you walked down the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. the memory of your meeting with seonghwa weeks ago surfaced unbidden, and you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of excitement.

the president of the programming club had been everything you'd expected: professional, composed, and just intimidating enough to make somekne nervous. his reputation preceded him — someone who not only excelled in programming but had also led the club to several university-wide recognitions.

“why do you want to join the club?” seonghwa had asked, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled. his expression was calm, but his gaze had felt piercing, like he could see through your hesitation.

you had hesitated for only a second before replying. "i want to make a game that feels real. something people connect with. but i need to improve. my programming, my management skills, all of it. i think being part of this club will help me get there."

seonghwa’s lips had curved into the faintest smile. "ambitious. i like that." he had paused, then added, "but the club isn’t easy. we take on big projects, and expectations are high. are you ready for that?"

you had nodded, your resolve firm. "i wouldn’t be here if i wasn’t."

"good answer," seonghwa had said, standing to shake your hand. "welcome aboard."

even now, the memory gave you a thrill of pride. getting into the club felt like a step toward your dream — a dream you had clung on to ever since you first started sketching game concepts in your notebooks as a kid.

but as you approached the bulletin board, reality crept back in. your excitement dimmed as you smoothed out the ad in your hand. of course, in your pursuit of progress, you'd have to deal with people like him. song mingi this, song mingi that, you thought. his name like a sour note in your mind. the ideal designer you'd hoped to work with turned out to be an arrogant, insufferable presence who couldn’t resist making your life harder.

with a sigh, you pinned the ad to the board, pressing the thumbtacks harder than necessary. fine. if the universe thought it was funny to throw mingi in your path, you'd just find someone better.

speak — or rather think of the damn devil, mingi appeared out of nowhere and leaned casually against the wall. giving you a slight deja vu. "looking for talent already?" he teased. "you could’ve just asked me."

you don't even look at him.

"i'm looking for reliable talent."

mingi mock-pouted. "ouch. i thought i was your ideal artist."

"i thought so too," you muttered under your breath, trying to finish your task.

he leaned closer, reading your ad out loud. "creative? efficient? willing to meet impossible standards? sounds a lot like me."

you give him a sharp look. "i doubt you’d survive the interview."

you turned on your heel and left, ignoring his amused laughter as he called after you, "see you around!"

you soon noticed mingi following you and you pick up your pace, determined to lose him. he kept up effortlessly with his long legs, hands in his pockets, humming a tune as if he’s just out for a stroll.

finally, you stopped and turned around. "why are you following me?"

he grins. "coincidence. i’m just heading this way."

when you both reach the clubroom door, you block his path. "i'm serious. go away."

mingi raises an eyebrow. "serious? like barium enema serious? or serious like joining the programming club?"

you blinked, confused, as mingi brushed past you and opened the door, motioning for you to go in first. "after you, love."

inside, the club president, seonghwa, recognized mingi immediately. "ah, our star designer has arrived!" he spotted you behind him. "ah, and you must be y/n — welcome!"

"y/n? " mingi repeated your name under his breath. he was bound to find out one way or another. as you stepped into the room, you see a neat, organized space with several members already chatting. a large bulletin board on one wall displayed future projects, tasks, and members’ names.

seonghwa, cheerful and welcoming, introduced you to the group. "everyone, meet our newest member! y/n has a lot of potential, and we’re excited to have her." a few members inside cheered for you. seonghwa continued. "and it seems like you two are already acquainted, i have a feeling that you’ll get along well with our club secretary, mingi. he’s been with us for two years and is one of our most dedicated officers."

you stared, stunned. "secretary?"

mingi stepped forward and he stretched, clearly enjoying your reaction. "that’s right, baby. which means i’ll be keeping track of your attendance and… performance." he winked.

you seethed internally. of course he’s the secretary. why wouldn’t he be?

you forced a polite smile for show. "great. looking forward to working with you."

"under me." mingi corrected you.

"okay! let's start the meeting!" seonghwa interrupted. "mingi, lead the opening prayer..."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

during the meeting, seonghwa announced the annual semester-opening festival and he assigned you and mingi to collaborate on creating designs for it. "mingi, since you’re our most experienced designer, you’ll take the lead on this. y/n, our new member, you’ll be assisting him and handling the programming aspects."

your jaw tightened as you nodded reluctantly. meanwhile, mingi leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself, amused with the situation.

"don’t worry, y/n." he said. "i’ll take good care of you."

you shot back, "let’s hope i survive."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

#ateez #auth. zuzu #ateez x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi #mingi x y/n #mingi fanfiction #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #song mingi enemies to lovers #ateez enemies to lovers #mingi enemies to lovers

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i-sveikata · 2 days ago

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Author are we any close to the word game because i have so many things to ask 😭 but if we arent can you write your favourite sentence you've written in this chapter so far I miss them😭

im sorry but not yet i seriously underestimated how many filler scenes i still need to write :( but i am getting there!! and maybe once ive gotten the shape of the chapter i might start the game early to help ease all of your suffering (tho i dont know if that makes the waiting worse or not lol)

but here have a little chunk of a scene where pete is mad about how he's being treated so he ends up sunning himself by the hotel pool (gotta keep up that act for the russians) even whilst being a lil bitch to vegas about it lmao

Pete actively fights the flush trying to rise on his face from the intensity of Vegas’ stare.

“Is there something you need from me, Phi?” Pete wonders, still affecting that same tone. “Some instructions you want to give me?”

Vegas’ eyes narrow. “You’re really going to play it like this, baby?” he grounds out, the anger in his voice shifting his words into a growl.

Pete’s heart pounds a little faster, excitement at the confrontation working it’s way through his limbs.

“I don’t know what you mean Phi. I’m just doing what I’m told. Pretty, and vapid and nonthreatening, remember?”

Vegas' eyes trail down Pete's naked torso again, lingering on bare skin and the water droplets still clinging to him from the pool and Pete sits up a little as if leaning into his gaze.

“I didn’t tell you to do this,” Vegas snaps and Pete feels emboldened by the irritation in his voice, determined to push him further. “You made the decision all on your own.”

Pete has to shift his right hand behind his hip to hide the clenched fist there. He doesn't want to be tempted into taking a swing.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around lately,” Pete says lightly but inside he’s simmering with rage.

He wonders if Vegas can see it emanating off Pete’s body. If he can somehow feel it.

If he does, he shows no sign beyond a raised eyebrow and a pointedly cutting expression. “This is really how you’re planning to spend your time?” Vegas scoffs. “You?”

It takes everything in Pete not to react to that.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replies evenly. “I’m just amusing myself since I’ve been left alone and my lover is too busy with his important business meetings. That’s how you wanted it. Isn’t that right, lover?”

Vegas’ eyes flash and he finally turns to the rest of the guards. “Beat it,” he snaps. “I don’t want to see your faces unless Mikhail is about to show up.”

#fic asks #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

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fairybin · 1 year ago

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hello! i hope that everyone is doing good. if not good, hopefully at least tolerable. since it's been a while since i've posted, i wanted to leave a message for everyone who has enjoyed my works over the last couple of months.

if you've been following me for a long time, then you'd know i made this account during summer of 2020 as a means to interact with other people who were also watching i-land (the show that made enhypen), but i would say that this 2023 year has been my most active year of posting. for me, writing is my way to express my thoughts and feelings that are somewhat trapped inside of my brain without any other means to express them and i truly enjoy it and wouldn’t want any other way to express myself besides it. even posting audios, that i originally kind of hated doing since it overshadowed my writings, i really grew to enjoy posting.

anyway with that being said, sometimes my brain works too fast for me to keep up and those thoughts and feelings become very stagnant and non-existent entirely. whether this is “burnout” or just pure laziness on my part is really unknown to me and honestly i probably won’t ever find out. if you’ve talked to me by messages or dms or even in my ask inbox, you’d know how often i say “i have an idea! i want to write about this and this and this!” and how much i enjoy when people tell me to go for it and usually i do.

maybe it’s the pressure to want to make my writings perfect or maybe the fact that it’s me who wrote it and i have to read it over and over, but honestly recently i have had no inspiration for writing. zero. nada. 없어. and it’s actually extremely difficult to admit. within a year, i have gone from loving writing and pushing out posts like it was nothing to not even wanting to write anything at all.

with this being said, i am by no means saying i’m going to stop writing. i couldn’t even if i wanted to. this is me saying that i’m going to take my time writing. if i get into a mood to write, i will, but also i won’t beat myself up for not being in the mood to write.

i’ll still be logged into this account periodically and i’m going to continue to reblog stories i like on my side blog that's linked in my navigation.

i wish everyone a very happy healthy and successful rest of 2024! bye!

- mari

#from mari

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yureiyaps · 23 days ago

Text

ִֶָ☾. See You Later!

cw: war au pairing: megumi x OC, dad!Satoru wc: 2.6k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this particular chapter, as exhausting as it was :DD

(Megumi's POV)

I was confused.

The problem with chasing shadows is that sometimes, they start looking back.

I was in the archives again. Third time this week. I knew there was nothing new in these files — redacted lines, blank pages, ink that looked like it was burned off — but I kept coming back anyway.

Hope's a stupid thing. Fragile. Addictive.

I flipped open another folder. Same emblem on the top corner. Same damn font. Property of Operation: Blind Sun. Property of a nightmare. Screw this. I sighed, tossing the useless stash of paper to the table and walking out of the room, closing the door behind me. Kuroiwa was either stupidly blind or blindly stupid.

Either works.

Staring at redacted files until my eyes fell out never helped and never will help, so I decided I'm going rogue. Even if it gets me kicked out of here - which I'm actually yearning for. How am I supposed to find my family - or what was left of them, at least - if I can't use any and all resources I can find? That's why instead of turning right in the corridor, I veered left into the darkness. In the direction of the SUPERIOR PERSONNEL ONLY room. Some files were labeled CLASSIFIED. Others were marked FOR EYES ABOVE RANK.

But none of them said Fushiguro Megumi: Stop Being a Goddamn Idiot and Open This Sooner — which is exactly what they should’ve said.

The lock was easy. The badge swipe? Easier. They trained me to ghost into enemy territory, and I was using it to crack into my own military’s records. What a joke.

I didn’t care. I had one goal. One person.

Her name. That’s all I needed. I typed it in like I’d done a hundred times before.

GOJO, AKIRA.

And this time, it didn’t bounce me.

It opened a record.

Deployment: Special Division 02 – Black Unit Commanding Officer: SOKOLYEV, CMDR Second-in-Command: ARATA, LT Status: ACTIVE Clearance Level: LOCKED

I stared at the screen.

Kyle Sokolyev. Buzzcut.

She was under Buzzcut the entire time. The same man I’d passed in briefings. The same man who pretended not to recognize my last name. The same unit that operated under the same goddamn flag as me.

My fists slammed the desk.

Kuroiwa.

She knew. She’d known everything.

My pulse roared in my ears like gunfire. A traitor’s beat — not to the country, but to myself. I should’ve seen it.

I didn’t wait for permission. Or a vehicle. Or a file stamp. I stole a damn bike from the depot and rode.

(MILITARY BASE, SPECIAL DIVISION 02 - AKIRA'S BASE)

The base looked like any other: concrete, dust, half-salvaged wiring running like veins up the sides. But it felt different. A soldier at the gate blinked when I flashed my stolen clearance. “Uh. Sir? You’re… not from this base.”

“No,” I said. “I’m looking for someone. Gojo Akira. She’s registered here.”

“Private Gojo?” He frowned. “She shipped out early this morning.”

Damn it.

“Then someone she was close to,” I said without flinching. “Anyone she trusted. Ate meals with. Laughed around.”

The guy scratched his head. “Uh… I mean, she mostly kept to herself, but—yeah. There’s this one guy. Talks a lot. Name’s Renji. He used to get her to eat when she skipped meals.”

“Where is he?”

“Mess hall. Second corridor.” I nodded, walking into the base and going towards the hall. It smelled like steel trays and yesterday’s regrets. Soldiers slumped over half-eaten meals, boots scraping tile. I scanned until I saw him — mid-twenties maybe, hair a mess, knuckles bruised, eyes like he hadn’t slept since peace was invented.

I walked over.

“Renji?” I asked.

He looked up slowly, like he was used to being called for trouble. “Yeah?”

“I’m looking for someone. Gojo Akira.”

His face didn’t shift much — just this small, knowing pause, like a dot connecting in the back of his mind.

“Oh,” he said. A faint smile, like he knew something I didn’t. Like he recognized me.

I didn’t press. “Do you know where she went?”

He nodded, pushed his half-eaten tray aside. “Shipped out early this morning. Left with Lieutenant Arata.”

My hands curled around the edge of the bench. “Do you know why?”

Renji scratched his neck, sighing softly and speaking. "I supposed it had to do something with these papers she's been studying non-stop. Something about her dad. Come on.” He stood and started walking, leading me to the barracks.

The room was quiet. Lived-in but stripped clean. Two bunks, one top, one bottom. Renji motioned to the lower one.

“She’s been studying these,” he said, crouching and reaching under the bedframe. “Secret files. She wouldn’t let anyone touch them, but… you’re not just anyone, are you?”

I didn’t answer.

He pulled out a folded pack of documents — ragged at the edges, creased from sleepless nights. He passed them to me.

“She never said your name,” Renji added quietly. “But I figured it out.”

I opened the folder.

Classified logos. Operation stamps. Maps. Coordinates. Codenames. Redacted lines stacked like barbed wire. I barely blinked. My fingers traced through them, eyes scanning for something — anything — that would tell me where she went.

Then something slipped loose.

A photo.

It fluttered down into my lap.

I stared at it.

It was us.

Just a day — random, forgettable to anyone else. I was maybe nine. She was grinning wide, arms thrown around my neck, and I was mid-sigh, clearly trying not to smile.

We looked happy.

I swallowed hard.

“She kept it in the folder,” Renji said, voice low behind me. “Wouldn’t let it go, even when she got yelled at for bringing personal stuff into briefing.”

I folded the photo back into the file. My throat burned.

“Do you know where they went?” I asked.

Renji shook his head. “No. But it’s all in there. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.” I nodded, offering a tight smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else. Renji nodded his head, offering the same smile.

Except his looked more sympathetic and emotional.

I stood up, tucking the files into my bag gently and fixing my gloves, looking around. I had to find her, and I would. No matter what.

"Good luck. She'll be glad to know you still care," Renji said, silent support and understanding in his booming voice. Why would she think I didn't care?

It made me pause for a moment, but the thought was pushed to the back of my mind when I was out of the base. The drive to my base was exhausting, mentally wrecking. Everything happening was driving me insane.

And that insanity drove me further to find the truth. -----------------------

The file folder lied splayed open across the floor.

Gloves were off. Jacket on the ground. I'm sitting cross-legged, hunched over, every classified paper spread around me like the wreckage of a storm.

At first, I was just skimming, frustrated — trying to pinpoint anything concrete.

But then I realized something was off.

The first highlight’s yellow. The next… is red. Then green. Then blue. Then red again. And the pen strokes are slightly slanted, different. Not military issue. Not regulation.

Then it clicked.

She was talking to me.

I scrambled, dragging the lamp closer, pulling the files into a line.

Some highlights are in thick, angry strokes — military-issued. Others? Finer. Smaller. Like someone was trying not to be noticed. And she repeated a pattern — yellow, red, green, blue, red.

A cipher.

I pulled out my notebook, copying the words only highlighted in her color. The phrases they formed.

I'm stupid.

"They’re lying about Satoru." "Arata trusts you." "If you see this, I need you." "Find me before they do."

And then finally — one more line, tucked in a page with nothing else on it:

"Only you would’ve seen this."

I clenched the papers in my hands, feeling tears build up. My mind drifted back to the photo I saw earlier.

I could remember the moment the photo was taken. What she said. How she smiled. How she looked at me as if I were her whole world. Maybe I never looked back. But it was time to now.

"I hate you as much as I would love to kiss you right now," a soft whisper fell from my lips, something cracking the wrong way in my heart. I was so, so, so blind. I needed to find her ASAP.

I didn't care she had a layer of protection from Buzzcut and Arata over herself. Didn't care the two were smart enough to dodge a nuclear bomb seconds before it exploded. I needed to help her. If I don't, I don't want to know what could happen.

I'm pretty sure that earlier, I didn't deserve that smile of hers. But I'll be damned if I don't earn it now.

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

I slept over everything. Let the situation fully settle in my gut - let the fact she trusted me so much settle in completely. I can't fuck up now.

The hallway was too quiet for this hour. Morning briefings usually meant chaos - boots scuffing tile, radios crackling, half-eaten rations tossed on crates - but today, even the static felt like it was holding its breath.

I adjusted the strap of my sidearm as I passed the old west wing of Base D-7. Rust bloomed on the steel walls like rot, and for a second, I caught my own reflection in the window - a little older, a little harder around the eyes. I hated mirrors now. All they ever did was show me who I was without her.

Without my family.

A low whistle cut through the air. A junior tech—Rei, I thought—waved me over with a sealed file in hand.

“Sir, we picked up something odd,” she said, voice low. “Encrypted activity log triggered a ghost alert. Registered as unlicensed movement… but the trail is too clean. Almost like someone wanted us to find it.”

I frowned. “Where?”

She hesitated. “Sector 09.”

I blinked. “That’s not real. There’s no Sector 09.”

“I thought the same. But the log’s real. Timestamped, with geo-pings routed through backdoors only the black-ops used during Blind Sun’s peak.”

That name made my gut twist.

I grabbed the file. Flipped through sharp paper. A chill slipped down my spine - coded phrases, static glitches, bits of phrases I knew by heart.

My heart dropped. No.

I ran a hand through my hair, skin buzzing. “This pattern - it’s her,” I whispered. “It’s Akira.”

Rei blinked. “Sir?”

“She’s alive. Or she was. She left this trail.” I was already walking, then running toward Command. “She’s in Sector 09.”

“But that place—”

“I don’t care what the map says.” My voice was sharp, laced with steel. “If she’s there, I’m going in.”

I didn't wait for a car - yet again, just dragged the stolen bicycle with me and followed the coordinates. If Satoru ever taught me something useful, it was how to easily navigate using coordinates, even in dire situations such as this one.

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

Sector 09. I was confused, yet again.

Why was I at the Horizon Lot? There used to be an arcade here when Akira and I were kids. Akira's family always parked on spot 11B, mine took place 10A.

I carefully stepped into the parking lot, looking around. Something was terribly off. Usually, it took a good lot to make me feel insecure and scared.

Now, shivers ran up my spine non-stop and my eyes started watering without reason.

I shivered again, breath coming out in white clouds. I didn't know what cold was, but it was clear now that I was here.

And that Akira was possibly in a life-or-death situation.

Falling into step, I quickened my pace. There was no time to lose.

My pulse thudded in my ears as I sprinted down the corridor, the walls closing in on me. The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay, mixed with something sharper—burnt ozone, the sting of something metallic, something wrong.

My boots pounded the slick concrete floor, the echoes bouncing off the narrow passageways that seemed to get tighter the further I pushed. The walls—half-machine, half-stone—were like a grave, cold and unforgiving. They didn’t belong in a place like this.

Sector 09 shouldn’t have even existed. But here I was.

A flash of red on the floor caught my attention.

Blood.

Fresh. The dark, rust-colored smear was splattered across the ground, trailing off at an angle, like someone had been dragged or stumbled. My throat tightened, breath catching. I knelt, fingers hovering just above the floor. My eyes darted over the bloodstains, tracing the path.

Then I saw them.

Footprints.

One set was deeper, heavier - someone wearing tactical boots. But the second set, faint against the backdrop of scuffed floors, was lighter. Smaller.

The weight of the tread wasn’t right either. Too soft. Too quick.

My stomach dropped.

Akira’s footsteps.

The hollow pit in my chest swelled with dread. My heart hammered, the rhythmic thudding a constant reminder of how far behind I was.

“No…” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. “No, no, no…”

She has been here.

My hands clenched into fists at my ides as I pushed myself upright, mind reeling. She had to be okay. She had to be. I was almost there. Almost close enough to...

The next thing I found nearly stopped his heart.

A comm-unit. Standard military issue. Its casing was cracked, one side busted open, wires dangling out like veins. I dropped to one knee, the urgency propelling me forward.

It was still faintly warm.

My fingers brushed the comm’s interface, testing it for any residual charge. I could feel the heat—fresh, as though it had been dropped only moments ago.

My breath hitched. She dropped it. It wasn’t just lying there; it had been discarded, left behind in a rush. A moment of panic. Or something worse.

I swallowed hard, chest tight.

The comm-unit was cracked, but it wasn’t beyond repair. If I could just get a signal out—maybe it wasn’t too late.

But as I reached for my own device, a strange sense of dread settled over me. I was missing something. Something important. The walls seemed to close in further, the corridor stretching out in front of me like a tunnel, growing darker with every step I took.

I snapped the comm-unit into my belt. The place was a trap—it had to be.

I didn’t care. I was getting her out. No matter the cost.

A scream interrupted my train of thought. It wasn't Akira's scream; I knew that the moment I heard it. Nevertheless, it made me freeze.

It came from somewhere below the ground.

What was going on?

Something smashing and unsettling, almost eerie sounds of cracking echoed through the empty, rusty parking lot, sending a pang of uneasiness and dread straight to my core. Shit.

I pushed harder, running faster, my legs burning as I followed the sounds of destruction. I had to find her. I had to make sure she was okay.

The walls shook, like something massive had just breached the ground. The sound of shattering glass and metal split the air. The whole place groaned, like a beast awakening from a long sleep.

I grabbed one of the grenades attached to my suit, throwing it at the wall from behind which the sounds seemed to be coming from.

I ran back quickly, protecting my face from flying debris and rubble, the sound of explosion deafening me for a moment before I looked up through the dust and caught those eyes.

Cerulean blue, like the sky before the war. Pristine white hair, wild and long.

----------------- taglist: @crimsonhallucinations

#fanfic #fanfiction #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #girl dad gojo #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x oc #long reads #toji fushiguro #tsumiki fushiguro #geto suguru #geto jjk #toji jjk

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 2 months ago

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Sharp March 2025 - 11. Yule

Aesop invites his sweetheart to a little party at the Ministry.

This one is very short and dialogue heavy. In my defence, I wasn't able to write more than two sentences at a time, because I had over 100 calls the day I wrote it.

11. Yule (0.8k)

“How come you got an invitation to the Ministry Yule Assembly?” The young woman asked as she raised her eyes from the neatly written invitation letter in her hands, one addressed to Professor Aesop T. Sharp.

“I get them every year,” the man himself answered simply with a little grin, “most everyone who has worked in the ministry does, every year. Well, perhaps not everyone. An intern who spent a week there before moving somewhere else doesn’t, but former Aurors like myself, who spent over 10 years in active service, well…”

“But you don’t attend,” she asked again with raised eyebrows.

“No,” Aesop replied, pushing himself up and off the counter he was leaning against, only to make the short way towards one of the dining room chairs and plop himself onto it. He sighed deeply before elaborating: “Actually, that’s not true. I used to attend them when I was still in the office, and then once, after… you know.”

A hand touched his own upon the table.

“It was quite awful. Here I was, all broken and scarred and limping, pouring myself too much liquor, while the rest of the hall was caught in the Christmas merriment. And those who weren’t were sending me pitying looks, some thanking me for coming despite everything. Outright depressing,” he continued.

“I’m sorry, darling,” his beloved said, her fingers gently stroking along the back of his hand.

Aesop gave her a small smile before turning his hand around and closing it around her smaller one.

“Yes, well… Wasn’t too keen to repeat that. But some good did come out of it in the end,” his smile got wider.

“Oh?” his beloved questioned, “and what was that?”

“The Firewhisky decanter in the sitting room, you know the one, it’s displayed on the writing desk? I pinched it there,” his grin turned outright toothy as he said it.

Aesop watched in delight as the young woman’s eyes grew wide and her brows shot up towards her hairline. When her mouth took on the shape of the letter ‘o’, he actually started chuckling.

“No, you didn’t!” she finally said, voice higher than usual.

“Sure did.”

“Aesop Theodore Sharp, do you really mean to tell me that you stole from The Ministry of Magic Yule Assembly ball?!”

“Indeed I did, and I would do it again!” the professor said proudly, “it is a damn fine decanter, dear, you’ve got to admit that yourself. It's a Bohemian crystal!”

“Oh, you are unbelievable!” his sweetheart said, now chuckling and shaking her head.

After a few minutes, she once again took the invitation into her free hand, giving it another look. “So, what about this then?” she finally asked.

“Well,” Aesop said, “I am still as scarred as I was before, but since I’m limping, drinking, and drowning in self-pity a lot less these days, I thought, perhaps, that we could take a look there? See if the food is any better than last time, give my former colleagues a proper scare by me being there, steal another decanter…” his voice was teasing, but then it grew in sincerity: “I thought, since we had such a nice time at your graduation ball, maybe this could be nice too…”

Aesop’s heart skipped a beat at the soft look that proceeded to bloom in her eyes. She clicked her tongue and rose from her chair, carefully stepping around the table towards him. Subconsciously, Aesop pushed his chair a bit away from the table to give her access, and she lowered herself to sit on his lap.

His arm wrapped itself firmly around her waist, and he gladly accepted her lips on his own. His other hand soon made contact with her pristine soft cheek, and he gently tilted her face to be able to deepen the kiss, hungrily lapping at the seam of her mouth, which parted for him almost immediately.

After a few minutes of languid kissing, the two of them parted only to press their foreheads together, more than happy to simply exist within their little intimate moment for a little while.

“Is that a yes?” Aesop finally asked, the corner of his lip rising ever so slightly.

He knew his answer even before she opened her mouth to answer.

“Just so you know,” she said in a teasing manner, dragging the tip of her finger very carefully along the scar on his left cheek. The contact would’ve made Aesop wince before, but now it felt familiar and comforting. “I am not stealing anything,” she finished.

“Hm, no worries, I’ll steal something for the both of us.” “No stealing!”

“We’re all paying for it anyway with our taxes.”

“Aesop!”

A mock-pout appeared on his face and she couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight before pressing another short kiss to his lips.

“Shall we get you a new dress as well?” Aesop asked then.

“What’s wrong with the blue one?”

“Oh, you know, nothing really. It’s very beautiful, in fact. Only, it’s rather difficult to take off.”

“You are unbelievable, Aesop!”

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I hope you enjoyed reading ❤ You can check all of my stories out over on Ao3 too.

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #aesop sharp x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sharp march 2025 #sharpmarch2025 #fluff #attempts at humour

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