#i promise the joy you get out of it is more genuine and valuable than whatever soul-crushing streaming contests ppl want to pressure u into

[estapa-edwards]

can you do a Jack Hughes x reader on their engagement day. Like Jack is awarded with something within the New Jersey devils and takes pictures with family and ends up giving reader a signed game worn jersey asking her for a hand in marriage and reader says yes, he also gets down on one knee and gives reader an big diamond ring. Thanks❤️❤️❤️❤️

ENGAGEMENT - J.HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x reader

word count: 1.3k

requested? yes

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The night was electric at the Prudential Center, home of the New Jersey Devils. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation as fans poured in, eager for a night of celebration and hockey. It wasn’t just any game night; it was a night dedicated to honoring Jack Hughes, the Devils' rising star. Jack had been awarded the prestigious title of the team's Most Valuable Player, a testament to his incredible season and growing influence in the NHL. But for Jack, this night held an even more significant meaning.

Y/N stood among the crowd, her heart swelling with pride as she watched Jack take the ice. The spotlight followed him, illuminating his journey from a promising rookie to a celebrated player. She knew how hard he had worked, the countless hours of practice, the physical and mental challenges, and the unwavering determination that had brought him to this moment.

As the ceremony commenced, the arena's giant screens played highlights of Jack's best plays. The crowd erupted in cheers with every goal and assist, their admiration for Jack palpable. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness. She had been by Jack's side through it all, his biggest supporter and confidante.

Jack's family was also present, their faces beaming with pride. His parents, Ellen and Jim Hughes, stood alongside his brothers, Quinn and Luke, all sharing in the joy of Jack's achievement. The Hughes family had always been close-knit, their bond unbreakable. Y/N felt a warm connection with them, having been welcomed into their family with open arms.

As the ceremony reached its peak, the Devils' captain handed Jack a trophy, recognizing him as the MVP. The crowd's applause was deafening. Jack, usually composed, had a hint of emotion in his eyes as he held the trophy aloft. He took the microphone, his voice steady but filled with gratitude.

"Thank you all for this incredible honor," Jack began. "I couldn't have done this without the support of my teammates, coaches, and, of course, my amazing family. You all have been my rock."

His gaze shifted towards Y/N, his eyes locking with hers. "And to Y/N," he continued, his voice softening, "you've been my biggest supporter, my partner through thick and thin. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to share this journey with."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. The crowd cheered once more, but all she could focus on was Jack, his words resonating deeply within her.

After the ceremony, Jack was whisked away for photos with his family and team. Y/N watched from the sidelines, her heart brimming with love and admiration. She saw Jack's interactions with his family, the genuine smiles and laughter they shared. It was evident how much this moment meant to all of them.

Jack caught Y/N's eye and waved her over. "Come on, Y/N, join us!" he called, his smile wide and inviting. She made her way over, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The photographer positioned them, and they took several photos, capturing the joy and pride of the night.

As the photoshoot wrapped up, Jack turned to Y/N, his expression serious yet tender. "There's one more thing I need to do," he said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a game-worn jersey, his number emblazoned on the back. The jersey was a symbol of his journey, the sweat and effort he had poured into every game.

"Y/N," Jack began, holding the jersey out to her, "this is for you. It's more than just a piece of clothing; it's a part of my journey, a journey that I want you to continue being a part of."

Y/N took the jersey, her hands trembling slightly. She looked up at Jack, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Jack, I—"

But before she could finish, Jack took a deep breath and got down on one knee. The arena seemed to hold its breath, the crowd falling silent as they realized what was happening. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its brilliance catching the light and sparkling like a thousand stars.

"Y/N," Jack said, his voice filled with emotion, "you’ve been with me through every high and low. You’ve supported me, believed in me, and loved me unconditionally. I can't imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she looked at Jack, her heart overflowing with love. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Yes, Jack, I will marry you."

The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers echoing through the arena. Jack slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger and stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. They shared a kiss, the world around them fading away as they celebrated their love and commitment.

The Devils' mascot, NJ Devil, danced around them, adding a touch of humor to the heartfelt moment. Jack's teammates and family surrounded them, their congratulations and well-wishes blending with the cheers of the fans. It was a moment of pure joy, a perfect culmination of Jack's achievements on the ice and his love off it.

As the night continued, the celebration grew. The Devils won their game, adding to the night's happiness. Y/N and Jack found themselves at the center of attention, their engagement the talk of the evening. They took more photos, with Y/N proudly wearing Jack's game-worn jersey, a symbol of their shared journey.

Jack's parents embraced Y/N, welcoming her officially into their family. "We're so happy for you both," Ellen said, tears of joy in her eyes. "You’ve always been like a daughter to us, and now it's official."

Quinn and Luke teased their brother, but their happiness was evident. "About time, Jack," Quinn joked, clapping him on the back. "You’re a lucky guy, Y/N's amazing."

As the night wore on, Y/N and Jack stole a few moments alone, away from the crowd. They stood on the ice, the arena now quiet and empty. The silence was peaceful, a stark contrast to the earlier excitement.

"I can't believe this," Y/N said softly, looking at the ring on her finger. "It's like a dream."

Jack took her hands in his, his gaze tender. "It's our dream, Y/N. We've been through so much together, and this is just the beginning. I promise to always be there for you, to love and support you just like you’ve done for me."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. "I love you, Jack. I'm so proud of you, and I'm so excited for our future."

They shared another kiss, the cold ice beneath their feet a reminder of where their journey had started. It was on the ice that Jack had found his passion, and it was on the ice that he had found his love.

As they walked off the ice hand in hand, Y/N glanced back at the empty arena. It held so many memories, and now it held one of the most precious moments of her life. She knew there would be challenges ahead, but with Jack by her side, she felt ready to face anything.

Their engagement day was more than just a celebration of Jack's achievements; it was a celebration of their love and commitment to each other. It was a night they would remember forever, a night that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N looked up at the stars. They seemed to shine brighter, reflecting the happiness in her heart. She squeezed Jack's hand, feeling the promise of their future together.

"Here's to us," Jack said, his voice filled with hope and excitement.

"Here's to us," Y/N echoed, her heart full of love.

And with that, they walked into their future, ready to face whatever came their way, together.

[ultrone]

omg so like hear me out on this… spider!lottie x kleptomaniac!reader

🕸️🕷️ –— spider!lottie x kleptomaniac!reader﹙1.0k wc﹚

you hadn't meant for it to turn into a pattern, but somehow, you always found yourself walking out of the convenience store with something you hadn't paid for. it wasn't that you wanted the items; it was just an impulsive habit.

this time, you had your sights set on a plastic dinosaur figurine that was perched near the counter. you quickly slipped it into your bag, thinking you were being discreet. but as you turned to leave, you found yourself nearly colliding with someone.

before you stood a tall girl, dressed in a sleek and unmistakably superhero-esque outfit—spider-girl, to be precise. shit. her eyes locked onto yours with an amused yet exasperated look. "a plastic dinosaur? seriously?" she remarked, her tone tinged with humorous disbelief.

you felt your cheeks heat up as you stammered, "i... uh, it's not what it looks like."

she sighed, clearly holding back a chuckle. "you know, most people go for cash or valuable stuff. but hey, who am i to judge?"

your heart raced, unsure whether this encounter would end with handcuffs or an awkward apology. to your surprise, she reached into her pocket and pulled out some money, handing it over to the cashier. "i'll pay for it. just... be more careful next time."

you blinked, utterly baffled by her response. "uh, thanks."

with a smirk, she turned to leave. "just promise me you'll aim higher next time."

and just like that, she left, the door ringing as it opened and closed, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

as the days turned into weeks, she caught you stealing a few more times, but instead of getting angry or calling the police, she always ended up laughing at the things you tried to take.

one sunny afternoon, a local carnival had set up in the heart of the city, and you saw an opportunity too good to pass up. your eyes locked onto a gigantic teddy bear that practically begged for a new home. you couldn't resist the challenge, and without much thought, you embarked on a mission to "borrow" it.

with determination—and stupidity, you found yourself getting tangled in the plush limbs of the massive toy. but just as you realized you might be stuck, a familiar voice floated to your ears. "i've seen some creative attempts, but this one takes the cake."

startled, you twisted around to find spider-girl leaning casually against a nearby support pole. she looked at you and the stuffed animal with amusement and concern.

you tried to extricate yourself from the predicament with a sheepish grin. "i... may have overestimated my ability to pull this off."

spider-girl chuckled, stepping forward to help you unravel from the plush mess. "i'll give you points for creativity, at least."

as you finally stood free, you let out a sigh of relief, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "thanks..."

she grinned at you under her mask, amusement dancing in her eyes. "lottie. my name's lottie."

your heart skipped a beat at the revelation, and you watched in awe as lottie reached up to her mask, deftly unfastening it and revealing a face that was even more captivating than you had imagined. you couldn't help but stare—she was so pretty, so much so that you felt a flutter of nervousness deep within you.

lottie caught your gaze, her smile warm and genuine. "i don't just show my face to anyone, you know? but you've earned a special place on my 'no snitching to the police' list; i figured if you're going to keep stealing stuffed animals around me, you deserve to know who's keeping you in check."

you chuckled, relieved by her light-heartedness. "i'm honored. and don't worry, your secret's safe with me," you assured.

"good to know," she replied with a mock-serious nod, though her eyes sparkled with joy. "besides, if anything, i could always snitch to the police for trying to steal things," she added the last part with a playful glint in her eye.

you raised an eyebrow playfully. "oh, is that a threat?"

she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "well, only if you don't promise to behave."

you flushed at her words and her proximity, but before you could respond, she took you by the hand and led you, walking toward a nearby game.

the two of you spent the rest of the carnival wandering around, sharing cotton candy and daring each other to try various games and rides. it was during a break, as you both sat on a bench, people-watching, that you found yourself drawn to the unmasked girl beside you.

"i feel like i owe you a confession," you admitted, your voice tinged with nerves and honesty, your fingers twisting and fidgeting with each other.

lottie turned to you, her curiosity evident in her eyes. "oh? what's that?"

you glanced down at your hands, a bit unsure of how to continue. "i never really wanted any of the stuff i took," you confessed. "it's always been this impulsive habit, a way to... i don't know, feel something, i guess."

lottie's gaze softened, and she reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "it's okay. we all have our ways of coping with things." she comforted you, "but maybe you can channel that energy into something different."

you met her eyes, your curiosity evident with furrowed eyebrows. "like what?"

"mmm..." she said, pretending to ponder. "like spending time with someone who appreciates you for who you are and can make you laugh," she said, her lips curving into a gentle smile.

you flushed slightly at her suggestion, your heart dancing in your chest. "you know? maybe that'd work," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

as the carnival lights grew brighter against the darkening sky, it was finally time to head home. lottie dropped you off, and before she put her mask back on and swung away with her spiderwebs, she left a quick kiss on your cheek, her lips soft against your skin.

and with that, she spun around, shooting her webbing to a nearby building, and swung away into the night. you watched her disappear into the distance, your heart fluttering in your chest.

as you entered your room, something caught your attention. your eyes widened as you saw the gigantic teddy bear you had attempted to "borrow" from the carnival now hung upside down from the ceiling, suspended by intricate spiderwebs. a note dangled from its paw, handwritten with a purple glittery pen: “see you tomorrow, i'll pick you up at 6:00 pm. xoxo lottie ♡”

[bacarasbabe]

Hello hello my love, may I please ask about 21, 73 and 76? x

Hello my beloved 💕 I'm so sorry for the late response. I've started answering you multiple times but irl things kept getting in the way and I took a small break from here! Really, I just wanted to give you a serious answer that I took my time with instead of something rushed and not very well thought out. I hope you can forgive me darling.

21 - Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

I don't have very many chaptered fics but as I've been growing and evolving in my writing style I think I've begun to gravitate towords chaptered fics. I find a lot of joy in developing plotlines and characters through multiple chapters. It's an interesting and fun challenge to face, but one-shots will always hold a special place in my heart.

73 - What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Hmm, this was interesting to disect but I think I get complemented on my aestetics the most lol.

76 - How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Fyi, I've written the response to this question like five different times now. I think I've settled on an okay respose, but I wanted to take the time to get this right. I know so many fic writers and creators deal with stress, and not all of us come out the other side as creators still. While I'm unsure if my insights will be helpful to you, I hope you can find something valuable in my perspective.

(Full answer under the cut bc it's long.)

We've previously discussed the unique frustrations that fic writers face, particularly on this website. The constant barrage of anonymous asks, only inquiring about more content or the release date of the next chapter, the likes without comments or reblogs, and the limited interactions can wear you down over time. I know that I've felt the weight of these pressures and so have so many countless others. There are numerous other aspects I could complain about, but I am actively working on letting go and trying to move past these things.

It can be difficult when, at one point, fic writing felt like an avenue to engage in commentary, discussions, and the social aspects of the community, rather than merely producing content for others to enjoy. The stress and perceived pressure to consistently create began to erode my love for writing, prompting me to step away. I needed to distance myself from everything, and surprisingly, it turned out to be a positive decision. During my break, I created a side blog using a completely different email address, allowing me to enjoy things without feeling the need to hold myself to any standards or obligations. I granted myself permission to consume instead of constantly create, and to enjoy without worry. Taking that break was a significant step for me, enabling me to establish boundaries, which was exactly what I needed. I realized I had been giving too much, rushing through writing instead of savoring the process.

Now, with a story that I hold dear to my heart, I find myself in a place where I can dedicate myself to it and genuinely enjoy the journey. I am completing the story for myself because I genuinely want to, without the burden of writing other fics or constantly trying to entertain followers. Even with this mindset, I must admit that I don't have a comprehensive answer for you. After being away for over a year, gaining a fresh perspective on things helped immensely. Additionally, the words of a cherished mutual we share had a profound impact on me. They expressed, in their own way, that my fics are already complete the moment I posted them. Regardless of any future chapters promised. It's perfectly acceptable if I never post an ending because the audience is not entitled to one.

Dealing with writing pressure, whether it stems from internal expectations or external demands, requires a conscious effort to set boundaries and prioritize personal enjoyment and fulfillment. Taking breaks, gaining perspective, and finding solace in the fact that your creations are already complete can all contribute to a healthier and more enjoyable writing experience. Remember, your writing journey should ultimately be driven by your own passion and desire, rather than solely catering to the expectations of others. I know that this is easier said than done. I know. But hopefully you can take a piece of this and apply it to your own stess.

[jooyeone]

i don't know who needs to hear this but if you love a song then you are very much allowed to listen to it on loop

[ecliptsukki]

falling for you ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki / cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff, slight comedy

➣ warnings: cursing

➣ a/n: i’m far too in love with this man. i can’t help myself. also if you have anything you want me to write, send it to my inbox!

- he first met you at "S," seeing you stood by langa and reki

- his silky pink hair flowed behind him in the wind, his bangs lifting to reveal his golden eyes. those golden orbs are locked on you the entire time he skates closer to you

- the lack of bickering that usually arose between cherry and joe had caught joe's attention

- joe notices cherry's gaze on a particular y/h/c. he almost snorts, almost, but, being a teasing lil bitch kidding, he decides to jab at cherry's side

- "hey, do you see that girl over there? she's cute, isn't she?"

- the bubblegum-colored hair male glares holes into his friends head

- "i'm sure she wouldn't be interested in a muscle-brained gorilla like yourself"

- "bOI, DID YOU JUST-"

- skates off into the distance, further closing the gap between the two of you

- girls and guys start cheering for and fawning over cherry, as well as joe. this catches your attention because you're surprised mostly by the fawning of the people. honestly, you wouldn't say that anyone you've seen there is worthy of so much attention, excluding your two best buds: langa and reki.

- you're actually older than reki and langa by 3 years. you met reki on coincidence.

- you had borrowed your friend's skateboard to cruise around the town. you had felt overwhelmed with all that had been going on in your life, and you wanted to find an escape. your friend, wanting to help you with that mission, offered the board, saying "it's really fun and gets your mind off of things whenever you need." obviously, you took up on the offer because it was a nice spring day: the sun out and the bright colors of nature and the city filling your misty eyes.

- you skated by the skate park and saw a particular redhead practicing ollies and other tricks. you were impressed by the skill he had portrayed, yet you were also envious of how light he seemed, how his eyes twinkled with joy. your gaze must've rested too long on the boy because he approached you soon after.

- reki, later on, introduced you to langa, bringing you to where you were today

- you came to "S," though unwillingly, to support langa in his beef against another fellow skater

- honestly, you detested that your younger friends were participating in illegal activities but never brought it up because you saw how happy they looked whenever they spoke about the beefs

- anYWAYS-

- looking into the distance, you see a masked man in a white yukata, hair flowing behind him, and a green haired, shirtless, buff man skating closer

- "who's that?" you ask your friends

- "oh! that's cherry blossom and joe. they are the founding members of "S." cherry has an ai board, and joe has incredible power," reki pips

- you nod, acknowledging the two men as they stepped off of their skateboards

- “well hello there,” the green haired man winks at you

- “hi,” you flush, eyes wandering between his gaze and his bare chest

- “what’s a pretty little lady like yourself doing with these two kids?”

- “uh-”

- reki tries to jump joe but is held back by langa because we know that reki doesn’t stand a chance against big muscle man

- joe gets all up and comfy with you, flexing his muscles and talking about who knows what

- your attention was mostly on the blue-nette friend of yours. you were still very anxious about this entire thing

- “she’s not even paying attention to you anymore, you idiot,” the masked man speaks

- embarrassed that they noticed your rude behavior, you begin to excessively apologize

- “no, please don’t apologize. i should’ve realized you were worried about your friends,” joe says modestly

- “there’s no need to worry about snow. he’s fully capable of staying safe. we’ve seen him skate many times, and he always comes out in one piece. i’m sure you’ll be impressed as well,” cherry says in his monotonous tone

- “snow?” you tilt your head to the side in confusion

- when i tell you cherry MELTED, i mean that he MELTED

- stomach? churning. heart? fluttering. cheeks? flushing. hotel? trivago

- bRO, why are you SO FUCKING ADORABLE

- “snow is langa,” joe explains when he notices cherry’s flustered silence

- “ohhhhhh-”

- “actually, i’ve just realized. we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. call me joe,” he looks expectantly at his friend

- “you may call me cherry,” the man thanked the lords that he wore a mask because if he wasn’t, you’d see the obvious rose tint on his cheeks

- “i’m y/n! i came here with reki and langa.”

- to say cherry’s heart broke in that moment would be an understatement. his heart was more so shattered and pulverized.

- did i just fall for a minor? FU-

- “but i’m older than them, of course.”

- lemme just pick up the shards of my broken heart and re-piece it back together

- you barely talked to cherry that night his fault for acting so cold, but you were intrigued by the man. i mean he skates on a talking skateboard, how can you not?

- cherry leaves “S” that night, regretting all his life decisions because instead of talking to you, he avoided you

- who knows when’s the next time he’d meet you?

- lmao, SiKe

- you walk into sakurayashiki calligraphy, awkwardly waiting to be interviewed

- his pink hair meets your eyes, the long, silky hair framing the man’s pale face. a pair of glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, enhancing his golden eyes. he is clad in a navy blue yukata

- hm, he looks familia-

- you almost gasp aloud, as you realize who he is

- not wanting to jump to conclusions, you ask, “have we met before?”

- kaoru is freaking out, though he hides it well under his professional mask

- what the heck? she’s the one looking for a job here?

- “yes, we have, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about”

- yiKeS, nice first impression on your, hopefully, new boss, y/n

- throughout the entire interview, you impressed him with the slightest of things

- you were beyond professional and exactly what he looked for in employees

- damn it. why is she so perfect?

- you walk out of the building with the brightest smile on your face, ecstatic with the news that you had been hired

- kaoru follows closely behind you, acting gentlemanly as he leads you out

- “thank you so, so much. i promise i will work my hardest to make your business even stronger and better than before”

- “no, the honor’s all mine. i can tell that you’ll become a valuable asset”

- you’re bowing your head and thanking him to a crazy amount that he starts to worry that you’re getting dizzy

- mustering up all the courage he could, he speaks up, “actually, i don’t really like talking about the skating half of my life...”

- you mutter a genuine apology for bringing it up before

- “it’s alright, but i was wondering if you wanted to go to “S” with me next time. i understand if you decline. i won’t fire you for it,” he tries to add a joke to lighten his tense mood

- you giggle at his nervous and awkward behavior, “good to know i won’t get fired if i say no, but sure! i wouldn’t mind going again. it’s a good opportunity to let me watch over reki and langa—”

- “that-that’s great,” he sighs with relief

- “—and i can get to know you better,” you mutter quietly under your breath

- he flushes, hearing what you said perfectly

- “i wouldn’t mind that either”

- you couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about the soft smile on kaoru’s face, whilst kaoru was busy sleeping, lost in his dreams of you and him together

- the both of you couldn’t wait to get to know each other more

[fabricated-misslieness]

Hey, can you do a Dazai x Port Mafia Executive Male Reader. Where reader is Dazai former partner before he gets replace by Chuuya and instead of Chuuya coming for Q and fighting Lovecraft its reader instead. Readers ability is like Shigaraki from bnha.

Dazai Osamu x sadistic!male reader

Ngl I was a little confused cause the last time I watched bsd was months ago.

Also made the reader sadistic because yes. i forgot the reason

Part 2

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 3859

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (Dazai stuff ofc), angsty boi

“You want me to pair up with this rookie?” You gesture in the vague direction of Dazai. You know he’s there, but you don’t act like it.

Dazai huffs, offended by your words. He crosses his arms. You weren’t giving him the best impression and if you were going to be partners, he at least had to tolerate you enough to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Now, now,” Mori chides with a sweet tone. You don’t trust the guy, he may act kind, but you’re sure he hides something with that kindness. “He’s already a port mafia executive.” You roll your eyes, he was only one of them because he witnessed the old boss handing down his title ‘willingly’. You seriously doubted he did do it willingly, seeing as it was a mere few minutes before his death. That sort of coincidence belongs to a movie.

“Like I don’t know that.” You shake your head. “Fine, fine, I’ll be his partner. I only want to know what he can do. He has an ability, doesn’t he?”

You finally acknowledge his presence, turning to him and sizing him up. Dazai is flustered by the gesture, but he pretends to act calm and collected, something that works with that young poker face of his.

“Yes--” Mori is interrupted by the executive himself, who is eager to show off.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai replies, uncrossing his arms. “But what’s yours?”

You furrow your eyebrows. Abilities are wide and unique, ranging from psychological to physical to straight magic. Knowing your ability could be a part of his ability. You were to work together so he’d know either way, but at the moment, you wanted to know his weaknesses.

“That’s valuable information.” You crack your knuckles and stretch, pretending to prepare for a fight.

“No fighting in my office.” Mori reminds you. “Or the building, for that matter. One of your abilities is particularly destructive, and we don’t know what you could do. Go to the training area if you’re going to fight.”

You give both of them a smirk, “Who says I was going to fight? I was merely enjoying the look in Dazai’s eye.”

Dazai frowned, quickly fixing his composure. It’s true, he was a little intimidated and he did not mean to let it show.

“You’re quite sadistic, aren’t you?” Mori chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s one thing right about me, boss.” You smile brightly. Dazai furrows his eyebrows and examines you. That smile of yours is sickeningly sweet, almost mocking. You look like a monster, but maybe that was part of your act. He’d know your ability in no time.

“Well, as partners you do have to know each other’s abilities. I picked Dazai specifically for you.” That gave each of them a hint to each other’s abilities, more to Dazai than anything.

You nod letting out a sigh, “Do you have anything you don’t want, Mori?”

Dazai quirks an eyebrow, interested in the peculiar question. Mori nods, nudging forward a tongue depressor, those big wooden popsicle sticks, one he could very well spare.

You pick up with all but one finger, your middle finger, holding it up for both of them to see. “Do you have anything for the debris?” Mori slides a metal tray towards the edge of the table.

“Pay close attention, Dazai.” You give him a glance before looking back at the stick, putting your final finger on it. It disintegrates in a matter of seconds, turning into pieces so small that they look like ash. “What’s yours?” You turn to him.

Dazai seems to shrink under your gaze, but he keeps a stoic look. “Put your hand on my arm.” You raise an eyebrow. Does he wish to experiment with your ability or is it part of his?

You put your hand on his arm, once again with all but one finger. You don’t trust him, that much is clear.

“Trust me.” The look he gives you is genuine, albeit the smile is devilish, though you oblige all the same.

Your eyebrows furrow when your ability has no effect. The skin doesn’t disintegrate, nor does it fall apart as usual. “That is my ability, No Longer Human.”

“And that is why I paired you two up.”

You huff a little angrily once you realize. His ability stops other abilities, what triggered it you didn’t know, but that wasn’t the most important thing for you. He paired you two up to have him be your control. You don’t need anyone to control you and you don’t want anyone to control you. You want to do you and you do not want this boy to hold you back.

You open your mouth to protest but Mori interrupts you. “This is my decision and mine alone, you cannot say otherwise.” As much as you want to mess up his pretty face, you couldn’t disobey the boss.

“Fine.”

As time grew on, Dazai had become a friend, though sometimes he felt like more than a friend. Despite your early refusal to the idea, you’d really warmed up to each other.

Dazai, the young bastard, was also quite the prick at times. Though you couldn’t really complain about his age since it turns out you’re within the same age range. While he was a prick, he was also caring, as you’d come to learn.

Sometimes he’d hold your forearm when you were touching something, even though over the years you’d built up the habit to not use your middle finger. Every time he did so you would laugh and it would somewhat fluster you, you’d tell him you didn’t need it and without fail he would say “Just in case.” It was nice to know he cared, and the other little gestures he would perform were even nicer.

You were known for being a little sadistic, taking joy from inflicting pain for no reason. When he’d hold you back from attacking some random lackey at the time it would make you angry, but a few minutes later you’d be grateful for it. After all, that lackey wouldn’t be very useful with an injury.

Though sometimes even he couldn’t hold you back. When you’d start a fight with another executive just for your enjoyment, he was quick to be there and keep you in touch. Perhaps you did need control after all.

The other executives were rather thankful for Dazai, as you chose someone to pick on every week. Something you hated about Dazai was that he was immune to your mockery. He got used to it from your partnership and he couldn’t be hurt by your ability. But you supposed it was for the better, the other executives were starting to get really annoyed by you.

Except everything changed when Nakahara came along.

Although your partnership was relatively new, you found comfort in each other’s companies. You protected each other’s weaknesses and complemented each other’s strengths; so when the news came along that Chūya would replace you as Dazai’s partner, both of you were a little ticked off, per say.

Dazai’s first impression on the newer rookie didn’t help their relationship. Chūya annoyed him to the very ends of the Earth and he did not want him to replace you. It wasn’t just Chūya either, he’d grown very fond of you. Sometimes he couldn’t even fight without you; He was used to you being there to back him up, though this detail he would not tell you.

In time, you didn’t look like the monster he’d thought you were in his first impression of you. You actually looked sweet.

Your smile, which for everybody else would be sadistic, turned out to look more endearing to him. Everybody caught onto the fact that the smiles you’d directed at him weren’t the smiles he’d show others. Somehow you hadn’t realized it, but he had.

You’d grown to like him, dare say crush on him, which was something you denied. His triumphant smile after the end of a mission and the jokes he’d make as you fought were always the highlight of your day.

None of you wanted to give up the other.

“This is his decision and his alone, we cannot say otherwise.” You mocked, making Dazai snicker. The fact he used the same words was quite ironic, really. 

Tomorrow marked Chūya and his first mission together, so you’d dedicated this day to each other. Dazai did not look forward to tomorrow, and as much as he wanted to vent to you about Chūya’s very abundant annoying qualities, you’d both promised not to talk about it.

The news of your separation had made both of you realize your growing crushes for each other. You were no longer in denial, though you loathed the idea… but when you really thought about it, you didn’t loathe the idea. Musing to yourself about hugging him, playing with his hair… thinking about the fact that you did in fact like it made you gag.

As the night neared to an end, your guts told you to tell him. You wouldn’t see each other all that often anyway and if you were never to interact much, at least you would be getting this off your chest.

“Dazai.” You both stared out the window of the HQ, prior to you speaking up you were in an awkward silence. None of you wanted to say goodbye.

He turned to you and you to him. As much as you wanted to avoid eye contact, you thought it might help. “I like you… don’t joke with me.”

Dazai was going to make a joke. It was amazing how much you got to know him in so little time. He smiled, and your hopes raised when you took notice of how it wasn’t pitiful. “I like you too.”

You immediately let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Where’s the big sadistic lion?” Dazai questions, playfully mocking how meek you are right now. His smile seems more joyful than usual, as it should with what just happened.

You snicker, giving him the sadistic smile he’s used to. “I’m right here.”

Dazai was your anchor in the Port Mafia, even when he plead for double suicide with you. Before you were partnered up, you absolutely despised the place. The other executives and the occasional lackeys were fun to provoke but it was almost as if that was your coping mechanism. You often complained about how awful the Mafia was handled with the previous boss, but he would never change anything. He was an idiot up until his very death.

You thought Mori’s recent ‘crowning’ would change your opinion, but it didn’t change it at all. You still hated the place. It was almost as if their only objective was to keep their hands on Yokohama. You wanted more than that, you wanted the whole of Japan to be your turf.

Mori didn’t want that and while he would take the opportunity once presented, he wouldn’t do a thing otherwise. He was perfectly happy with that and you weren’t.

Dazai was the only reason you stayed, but now the reason had been diminishing. You barely spoke and barely hung out. This wasn’t what ‘dating’ was and both of you knew it.

He wanted to try harder and so did you, but with your current situation, you couldn’t. When he wasn’t with Chūya, you were out on a mission. No, you weren’t jealous. This wasn’t Chūya’s fault nor was it something either of you could control. There were various times you debated on breaking up.

Dazai was the only thing holding you back from leaving, so if you broke up you didn’t have to worry about him. But you liked him and both of you would be heartbroken. You never liked thinking about it, but someday, it had to be addressed. That day never came.

The final day you were with the Port Mafia was the day that you had a brush with death.

You’d called for backup, you’d received none. The henchmen you were commanding left like cowards. To think these were the people you’d trained.

One of your big weaknesses was fighting groups of people alone. These henchmen knew that and they’d run. Where were their morals? Where was their faith, their loyalty? Where was their honor, their pride? It was then that you’d learned the Port Mafia wasn’t your place. These people weren’t your people, this turf wasn’t your turf. They were cowards and you were no coward.

Alone and fighting recklessly, you were down. You refused to flee, and that stubbornness was what caused you to nearly die. Luckily, you never crossed death’s doorstep. The people you were fighting presumed you dead the moment you dropped to the ground.

They were fools but a fool you were too to let your emotions get the best of you.

That day somebody had found you on the brisk of death. They claimed to be a spy and they offered to get you help.

Of course, you accept without asking for conditions. You were dying, what else could you have said? The conditions turned out to be joining his organization and feeding them with information or something equally as important.

No longer would you be associated with the Port Mafia. You were glad to leave them. But your only consequence being leaving behind Dazai, the love of your life and the highlight of the day. It was a hard decision to make that was for sure, but it was either this or death.

You felt selfish.

Months after joining them, the so-called ‘Guild’, your heart ached. Leaving Dazai was your biggest mistake but joining the Guild was the best thing that had happened to you since him. For the longest time, you’d wanted to tell him. You never had the guts to. And then you left Japan to join the bigger part of the guild in North America.

In time you’d stopped thinking about Dazai.

The crew was polite, a contrast from the cold lackeys and executives from the Port Mafia. It’s a nice change, one you wish won’t ever change. But maybe the hope of a different life blinds you from how bad these people really are, their underlying motives and morals, their similarities to the Port Mafia executives.

The guild is ambitious, their leader most of all. They have a turf and the turf is way bigger than the Port Mafia’s, something you’re proud about. You certainly feel better about this place than the Port Mafia.

Your sadistic personality never changes either, and while the others are certainly annoyed by it, they handle it in a different way. They make sure you know that you can’t hurt them severely, or there’ll be repercussions. Maybe not repercussions from the Guild’s rules, but them hurting you back. It’s a nice change, one that gets your adrenaline pumping every time you pick a fight.

The only time you did think of him was in your nightmares, the middle of the night. Those nightmares consisted of him calling you a traitor, betrayer, but that wasn’t what hurt you. They played out scenarios of you telling Dazai.

He’d kiss you, hold you tight, ask you where you’d been, question the new stitches and scars… and then you’d tell him.

His face would be ridden with denial. “No. No you couldn’t have! You’re joking, you’re lying!” He laughs, tries to believe it’s a joke, but he can’t get it out of his head that it isn’t.

“It’s not.”

It’s then that he lets out a sob. He trembles, pushes you away from him, looks you in the eye with a look full of betrayal. It’s then that he calls you names, which stated before aren’t what hurts you. It’s how he looks and what he says next that hurts the most, “I thought you loved me.”

That’s when the nightmare ends. You wake up with tears of your own, they’re hot and sting on your cheeks. You furiously wipe them away, but more keep coming.

You sob loudly, which wakes up John and Lucy. They’re the only ones you’ve trusted with your secret, Dazai. They comfort you the best they can but the most they can do is tell you it’s going to be okay or something along those lines. As much as you try to believe them, you can’t.

Dazai becomes a mere figure of your past. You think of him as unreachable, unattainable, as something you should scold yourself for thinking about.

If you could’ve taken him with you, you would’ve.

Learning that you will go back to Japan because of the leader’s obsession with a ‘tiger’ almost breaks you like your ability would.

You hadn’t thought about Dazai nightmares in the past year, but now you remember him again. You begin to regret leaving him, your heart aches again and your nightmares act up again. Everything gets worse when you arrive in Japan.

War breaks out between 3 organizations but the only thing you can think of is the Port Mafia. It’d been 6 years. Could he still remember you?

You don’t care who wins, you just want this whole thing to be over with. It upsets your ‘teammates’, but you don’t care. Once again, you think about leaving the organization, maybe live a normal life. That sort of life feels far-fetched right now and you know it’s something you’ll never have the chance to achieve. But still, you hope for it.

But then you see him again.

The second your eyes land on him you want to run. His eyes land on you and they must look the same as yours.

It hurts, but you have to persevere. “Hey, Lovecraft?” You glance at the man with the strange ability and appearance. “You want to go sleep, right?” You let out a mocking yawn of your own, giving the two in front of you your signature sickly smile.

“Yes.” Lovecraft replies, voice monotone and deep as always.

“Go get John and leave, get to sleep faster.” You nod in the direction you’d seen Chūya knock John towards. Your eyes stayed on the two in front of you. They both act as if they’d never seen you before, which you’re glad for. You don’t know if you could’ve handled seeing the same look Dazai would give you in your nightmares.

“But Francis and... you.” You’d like to think you’d gotten close to Lovecraft, but really he treated everybody the same because of his ‘contract’ with Francis.

“I’ll be fine. I know these guys’ weaknesses, anyway.” He doesn’t question how you do nor does he protest further and leaves immediately. “Quite the reunion, huh?”

“(y/n)..” Chūya growls. He glares at you, something you’d never seen 6 years ago as his senior executive. He never dared to interact with you. He knew he’d be replacing you as Dazai’s partner and knew about your relationship together. If anything, it was out of pity, and that you hated.

“Chūya.” You reply. “How’s the family, the mafia, the kids?” You mock. Chūya all but seethes, he looks like he’s ready to strike.

“(y/n),” Once Lovecraft is gone, Dazai gives you the look you dreaded to see. “H-How--” He doesn’t know what to say and neither do you. Your smile fades, turns into a frown. You don’t want to fight him but you also don’t want him to take on Lovecraft. As much as you liked the guy, he was a nightmare incarnate.

“Dazai.” Is all that you say. The vague response hurts you both.

“Chūya you might want to do that here.”

Chūya looks back at Dazai, shocked and taken aback. “You want me to do that? Dazai, I don’t think that’s needed and you know how shit that makes me feel.” It’s clear he doesn’t want to give into his corruption.

“You shouldn’t underestimate him.” Dazai speaks with experience, and it hurts you to know that he knows that.

“Don’t hurt him too much, we’re dating.”

“You’re still dating?!”

“Technically we never broke up!”

You laugh, staring at the limp body next to you. Chūya is deep asleep, or knocked out, you don’t know. You never really saw the aftermath of his corruption.

“That was a nice fight.” You remark, loud enough for Dazai to hear despite how weak you feel. Chūya had basically broken both your legs and injured you, but at least he hadn’t killed you or put you into a coma. The pain was unbearable for most people, but it was a simple background thought for you.

“It’s been…” Dazai starts.

“6 years.” You finish for him.

“I missed you.” You’re glad to hear that instead of the words from your nightmares, but you’re sure those words will eventually come.

“I did too.”

“You did?”

You sigh, nodding. “There were plenty of errands I had to run around and do for Francis. That rich old guy didn’t do anything himself. I didn’t think much of you, but I never forgot you. I had my own fair share of nightmares about you, they’re all the same.”

Dazai moves you to lean against the bark of a tree. You look into each other’s eyes, and you can tell that his are pleading. “Please stay.”

You ignore his remark, weakly reaching over to feel his coat. “New coat?”

“Yes.” Dazai grumbles, sitting down next to you cross legged. “Answer me.” He pleads again.

“You don’t want to know why I left, first?” Dazai shakes his head, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, prompting a pained groan from you. He quickly apologizes for it.

“I don’t know if I can.” You sigh, rubbing the back of his hand. You were quite touch starved, seeing as you couldn't really hold or touch anything properly. “If Francis wins I’d have to stay with him. If either of you win, I’ll most likely end up in prison.”

“Join me.”

You think back to the Guild. They were inviting and you thought them to be good, but just then did you think about how bad they really were. You’d known all along but you always refused to believe it. You wanted to be there just to escape the Mafia, you never wanted to be there because it was the guild.

“What was it… the Armed Detective Agency?” He nods. “How would that stop me from going to prison?”

“I don’t know.” Dazai admits with a huff. “Just.. please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile at him. Dazai remembers that smile, it’s burned into his memory and he takes note of how it hasn’t changed a bit. He’s missed it ever since you left. “Would they accept me, though?”

“They will, they will.” He says it as if he were determined, but he knows there’s a high chance they’ll refuse.

Dazai pulls you into a much deserved kiss. Long, gentle, sweet, and full of fireworks, it’s almost like your first. The only thing is it’s a little weak on your end, but he can’t blame you.

“Not going to mention sucide?”

“I haven’t seen you in 6 years, at least let me cherish this for another 2 months.”

[snuggetfish]

Majidad and spouse headcanons?? 🥺🥺 (nsfw too if youd like e h e)

Hell yeah 👀 I tried to keep them mostly gender-neutral, but some headcanons will fit more to a female partner. Everything under the smiling Maji cut!

Let’s start with the cozy, wholesome ones! 😊

You know how cute Majima’s genuine smile is? The one he doesn’t show quite as often once the Mad Dog takes hold?

Well, I think a sure-fire way to bring it out would be watching his partner and child doing just about anything together: 

...Cuddling on the couch when it’s well past the little one’s bedtime and they’re already sound asleep, but neither he nor his spouse have the heart to move them to bed. 

...Baking a cake, with the kid just barely tall enough to peek over the counter and stick a tiny finger into the chocolate ganache.

...Getting ready for school, tying shoelaces and buttoning up their coat so the cold doesn’t creep in. 

Honestly Majima can’t believe how lucky he is to have been blessed with such a family. He could stare at them for ages and never get tired... which is exactly what a picture is for. One he could keep in his wallet, in his desk drawer at the office and on his phone. Cliche for a parent? Yeah, but who’s gonna stop him? He anyway doesn’t talk about his family while at work. Who knows what ears might be listening...

He wouldn’t stop at one picture though. Since the games have thoroughly established how sentimental he is, I think he’d take lots, to capture everything from important occasions such as birthdays to more casual moments like going to the park or the zoo. And, as much as he’d like to be there all the time to experience each milestone, he knows that’s not gonna be the case... so instead his partner would promise to photograph and record everything he might miss: first words, first steps, first drawing, first day of school... 

Ohhh about those first words, I think Majima might get a bit competitive. Is it gonna be “mama” or “papa”? He loves his spouse of course and he’d be happy either way, but... in his heart of hearts, he kinda wants it to be papa. Maybe he’ll cheat a little and try to double his odds: how about Goro? Well it would sound more like Gowo for sure, but he’ll take it!

When it was still just the two of them as a couple, I think Majima was very much the little spoon in bed. It made him feel warm and loved, all while the Hannya kept watch over his partner. But if we’re talking pregnancy, then he’s switching to the big spoon, for comfort reasons, but also because there’s really nothing better than holding both your beloved and the tiny life inside them all at once. Only once the kid grows a bit older does he revert to his usual position, though it turns out he’s most often the middle spoon now: partner on his back and little munchkin nestled in his arms. Truly the coziest spot in the world, sandwiched between his two favourite people.

As we’re on the topic of bedtime, I think both he and his partner would complement each other well as storytellers. They do the narration and Majima does the voices and sound effects. With his sing-song tone and his silly faces, he’s got the kid completely fascinated, even if it’s largely all improv. After all, he doesn’t need to look at the book, he can make up a better plot on the spot. And when he can’t... well there’s always the narrator to set things straight again. The only problem is, he’s so good that the kid refuses to go to sleep before hearing the end of the story!

Now what if Majima’s child inherited his uncontrollable energy? Well I think the two of them combined would be quite the handful for his partner. They’d zoom around the house doing pretend chases, incorporating all the costumes Majima can dig out of his closet (bonus points if he gets matching ones done for his toddler - imagine the disco outfit!) and eventually they’d have to be shooed out to expend all that energy on a more outdoorsy adventure. When Nishida delivers them home later in the evening, Maijma’s carrying one very tired kid and an equally exhausted look in his eye... but it’s made instantly better with a kiss and a soothing bath.

I’ve touched on the topic of bath time briefly before, but I really think it would be a valuable bonding moment for Majima’s family. It’s not unusual for parents and children to bathe together in Japan and this would give Majima an opportunity to flaunt another hidden talent: haircare. Imagine if his daughter was keen on growing out her hair and her go-to person for that was always daddy. He somehow knows all the tricks that make her hair looks shiny and gorgeous: combing through slowly, detangling from the bottom upwards, using only the gentlest shampoos and conditioners... His partner is of course familiar with his past and knows he’s far better at handling long hair than one might infer just by looking at him... though maybe they can’t help but feel a tiny little bit jealous of how much of a daddy’s girl their daughter’s shaping up to be.

All right I’ve gone through the SFW ones, but a couple does need their intimacy, even with a kid around, so... 👀

Given how hectic and overwhelming first few months of parenthood are, nobody’s surprised that here’s not much time for sex. Nights are sleepless... but so is Majima. He’s not going to grumble if his partner isn’t in the mood after spending half an hour trying to put the baby to bed, though if they’re willing and just a bit too tired, he’ll focus solely on their pleasure. Slow movements accompanied by kisses everywhere. They deserve to lie back and be spoiled and feel his full appreciation for all the joy they’ve brought to his life.

Once the child gets older, the energy and libido return, but now they’re also more at risk of being caught. Majima may be a clingy dad by nature, but eventually even he realizes some time away from his little one would do them good. Kiryu and Saejima can help there. On that first quiet morning with the kid staying at their uncle’s place... the Majimas aren’t leaving the bedroom until well into the afternoon. He’s really, really missed making love his spouse and that’s gonna show in his long and deep strokes, how he keeps his body pressed close to theirs until they’re both lying in the dewy sheets, spent and sated.

Speaking of sated... Imagine that one day the kid blurts seemingly out of nowhere: “I want a baby brother/sister.” Majima would glance over at his partner, curious for their reaction... maybe with a hint of the same pleading look. He knows it’s their body, their call... but if they agree, he’s overjoyed. A sibling means the child would have another outlet for their energy and someone they can hopefully lean on later in life... although, that’s long-term. Short-term, it means that whenever Majima and his partner find a moment to themselves, there’s no more holding back. He fucks like a man on a mission and fills them up over and over...

Think I’ll stop here for now! Thank you so much for the ask! 💙💙💙

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[cappsikle]

you belong // fred and george weasley

Pairing: fred x platonic!reader x george

Summary: you feel hopeless and that you don’t belong, but the twins are there to lend a helping hand

Warnings: depressi hours - talks about not belonging, giving up etc. not proofread, ending is kinda trash.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: this is basically me venting about how i’ve been feeling recently. 

tags: @ryeryemilani @a-little-too-much just ask if you’d like to be added!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

-------

Why did it have to be this hard? It shouldn’t be, but it is. You tried, you really did try, but no matter how much so, you still felt like you didn’t belong. You don’t belong. It's been five years, and you still didn’t have anyone to call your friend. Sure, you hung out with some groups and talked to them occasionally, but you didn’t have a tight-knit group with anyone, no bond that connected you, and no one to turn to when you needed it. Yeah, it sucks.

You hated to admit it, but you’ve spent more nights crying over this than actually smiling. You didn’t want to, god you were so sick of crying, but when it feels like the world is doesn’t like you, doesn’t want you, it’s hard to keep the tears at bay. And that’s where you found yourself on this night, sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring out into the fire as tears cascaded down your face.  

Today had been a particularly hard day. It’s not like anything really happened to cause this, but the feeling of self-hatred was more intense than usual. There was just this heavy weight in your chest, a pressure that was holding you down, keeping you entrapped in your mind. You couldn’t escape, your thoughts chasing wherever you went. You were annoying, you weren’t good enough, no one wanted you.

The pain in your chest increased as the intensity of your thoughts. You don’t even know why you tried anymore. Why try to make friends when no one wanted you around? Why try to be friendly when all you got were the back of people’s heads?

You were losing hope. Hope for having a valuable friendship, hope for a bond so strong that nothing could come between you, hope for a life that you felt was worth living. You glanced at the clock, the hands showing it was 1 am. You sighed to yourself as a few more stray tears slid across your blotchy cheeks. You supposed you should head off to bed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your mind started spiraling again, spouting insults to yourself, that was until you heard two sets of feet pattering down the stairs, breaking the solitude. You faced the fire again, squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your body against the couch in a pathetic attempt hide yourself from their view.  

///

Fred and George had planned to wake up in the middle of the night and brainstorm some new product ideas they would create in the future. So, as the clock struck 1 am, both sat up, grabbed the needed equipment and made their way down as quietly as possible. What they hadn’t planned, however, was the lone figure sitting on the couch, curled into themselves. They both stopped in their tracks, looking at each other before continuing to descend the stairs. Maybe if they kept quiet you both could just sit without disturbing each other.

That was, until they heard you let out something akin to a choked sob. You covered your mouth with your hand, hoping to whatever god was out there that the boys at the bottom of the steps didn’t hear it. Your prayers were left unanswered as you heard them walk closer to the couch.

George and Fred glanced at each other a second time, a look of concern and curiosity crossing their features. Had they known what you were doing down here, they wouldn’t have disturbed them. But, as their presence was known, they knew they couldn’t just leave when someone was in a state such as this.

Slowly, the twins made their way to the back of the couch, George reaching out to gently grasp your shoulder, which you practically jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s okay...” you brought your hand up to your chest, trying to slow down your racing heart. You hadn’t expected the strange boys to take notice of you, and you definitely didn’t expect them to come over and talk to you.

You looked behind you at the pair of redheaded twins. The one with his hand on your shoulder, that was George, and the one standing next to him was Fred. You don’t exactly know how you were able to tell the twins apart, but you just could. It was possibly due to the many years of close observation, not that you’d admit that to anyone.

Fred, the shorter of the two, spoke up next, “are you alright over here? We heard you crying."

You shrugged your shoulders at his question, why would he care? No one else did. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

George took his hand off your shoulder, much to your delight, and opted to sit next to you instead, Fred following suit on the opposite side of you. “C’mon, love. What's up?”

You wanted to say something, you really did. But you knew once you started speaking, they’d get bored or annoyed and leave. That's happened way too many times to count. Again, you shrugged your shoulders and brought your hand to rub your arm, trying to rid the internal chill spreading through your bones.

“It’s just... I’m lonely,” you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. “I don’t have any friends, no family here, and I’m all alone. No one to talk to, no one to hang out with-” you don’t know why you kept practically spilling your guts to these strangers, but it felt so good to finally tell someone other than your teddy bear all the pent up feelings you’ve had for years.

George leaned back a tad to meet his eyes with Fred, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. The twins new who you were, well, they knew of you. They've always seen you around, occasionally accompanied by different groups of people, but other than that you always seemed to be alone. Had they known how you felt, they would’ve spoken to you ages ago.

After a few deep breaths, you kept talking. “I just feel like maybe there isn’t any point in trying anymore. No one cares about me, no one even looks at me. I’m just a background character in everyone’s story. I’m always chosen last.” you couldn’t help but let more tears fall from your already red and puffy eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe them away.

George took notice and hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder whilst Fred placed a hand on your knee and squeezed gently. In a state like this, you wanted nothing more than to push them away, but the warmth they provided just from those simple touches alone brought a comfort you had never felt before.  

They didn’t know you, yet their hearts yearned for the chance to make you feel better, feel happier. They wished they could take away this pain and make you happy. And that’s what they intended to do. George rubbed your shoulder and let you cry, looking over to his twin yet again, sharing a knowing look.

Fred spoke up first this time, bringing your attention to him, “look, we may not know that well, but we sure as hell want to!” you look at Fred with a deadpanned look and chuckled to yourself.

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“We’re not,” George cut in, “truth is, we’ve always seen you around and you genuinely look like a great person,” Fred nodded his head in confirmation “we’d love to get to know you.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but sooner or later something will happen that’ll leave you guys ahead and me left in the dust. That's how it’s always been.”

George shook his head as Fred spoke up, squeezing your knee gently to bring your attention towards him, “we vow to never let that happen. We vow to make all your days' worth living-”

“-to make you see that you’re important-”

“-to bring joy and laughter-”

“-and, we vow to show you that you belong here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. What could you say to something like that? You were touched, your heart beat just that little bit faster in your chest. They seemed serious, and honestly, why would they lie? You felt a small, almost invisible, smile grace your lips. You'd never had someone say any of these things to you. But you still had your doubts. You had to make sure.

“Are you sure you guys really want to do this?”

As both Fred and George looked at you, hearts reaching out, they sealed their promise with a sentence spoken in unison, “we’re sure.”

And you know what? They were right, and they did what they said they’d do. It took time, of course, a lot of it, for you to finally feel like you had a place in the world. The three of you quickly became inseparable, doing absolutely everything together. It did take you some time to warm up to them, but with their joyous laughter and constant upbeat energy, it was almost impossible not to love them, impossible to not want to be around them all the time.

However, when those bad days came, they were always there to reassure you. No matter how hopeless you felt, or how difficult it was to get out of bed, Fred and George were always there, lending their hands and hearts out to you, throwing you a rope when you needed a tug. You never really said this to them, but you truly believe they saved you. They saved you from believing life wasn’t worth it, from seeing the world as nothing but grey and dull. They brought the colour to your life.

So, yes, you did finally have people to talk to, people confide in when you needed it, and you finally created a bond with someone. You finally had those people who wouldn’t turn their backs on you, who strived to make your day full of laughter, to make your heartbeat faster. You finally felt like you belonged.

[softrozene]

Hellooo! I hope you're okay. Can I get a scenario for Benn Beckmann, Crocodile and Smoker with a female reader who confesses her feelings, please ?

I’m doing amazing Lovely. I hope you’re doing wonderful too! <3 I am such a sucker for requests like these. They feed into my love for fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy this! Because of the theme requested and the characters personalities I gave the reader more of a shy girl kind of personality!

Benn, Crocodile, Smoker x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff to the max

Words: 1818

Benn Beckmann-

Benn has a bad feeling the second he saw your cute form go up to the captain. He always gets an uneasy feeling when you talk to Shanks and yes, he is aware he is jealous, and he does not hide it very well, but this time felt different. Mostly because Shanks is giggling like a girl and your face looks beyond flustered.

Normally, he would go to your rescue but the second he sees Shanks look at him he had the urge to run away from his captain’s idiocy. He could not do so after you turn as well and give him a look that makes his heart ache. Whatever is going on he does not like it but seeing that look you gave him, makes him stay in place.

Benn is usually a quiet man and one who definitely does not wear his heart on his sleeve but the crew members who he’s been with from the start of the Red Hair Pirates can see through him. They know how smitten he is with you just as you are with him. It is almost painful that the two of you are not together and that is why while Benn is keeping an eye on you and Shanks from afar, Shanks is trying to convince you to confess to Benn.

The thought terrifies you. Your face heats up like a fire and you feel dizzy just thinking about it. Shanks is making fun of you and you want to hit him but of course, you do not dare. It is all in good faith that he is teasing you anyway.

The worry practically paints your being and Shanks gives in to give you his captain talk.

“Listen (Name), you are a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman. I can promise you that Benn will reciprocate your feelings. On the highly slim chance that he does not I will owe you a date night to lather you up with the romance you deserve,” Shanks promises.

The thought makes you want to gag immediately since you are not interested in your captain and Shanks laughs since you did not hide that. His words did reach you though and you turn around yet again to see Benn staring at you.

It is now or never.

As you walk up to Benn, he kicks himself for staring for so long. Even more, he wishes he knew what Shanks said to you to make your face so flustered.

“Benn?” Ah. The way you say his name makes him smile as he hums in response.

You go for it. “I like you. A lot. I know I may not be the most confident of women but-“

This is really happening. Benn can’t hear your words as the smile on his face grows. He glances back towards his captain who in return gives him a thumbs up. He cuts your now stuttering sentence off as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I like you too, (Name). If you are sure you want to pursue a relationship with me then by all means I accept,” Benn says.

And that was how Benn accidentally killed a crewmember, his new partner, with Shanks as a witness when your body hit the ground and you went to cloud nine.

Crocodile-

“Do you know why you are here?” Crocodile questions.

You look a bit nervous but overall, pretty composed. He is impressed since anyone else would have usually pissed their pants by now. You do not answer him and even though that agitates him he lets it pass since you are one of his most valuable assets.

“You have been distracted. It is affecting your work. Would you like to tell me why?” He asks leaning into his hand.

Despite the way he asked it with a certain gentleness to it, his hook starts to carve into the desk leaving the silent threat. Any other person would be terrified, and it looks like you are, but you are just nervous. Your heart is racing wildly as you try to distract yourself from feeling a bit too hot from the threat of his hook.

“I have a perfectly reasonable explanation,” You start.

You want to tell him, but it may mean your death sentence. This man does not tolerate distractions. The only reason why he has not murdered you on the spot for your suddenly slow work is because your loyalty is as high, maybe even higher than Mr. 1’s loyalty. That is a great feat and one Crocodile appreciates even if he has no problems getting rid of his loyal followers.

He raises an eyebrow and you decide that saying your feelings for him would be worth it even if he decides to take your life.

“I like somebody… Romantically,” You begin.

Your eyes widen however when his hook crashes into the desk leaving a big and ugly scratch. The veins on his neck are prominent and for a moment you believe that he is jealous. It is a silly little thought but one that could bring you to tears with joy. It’s impossible though. You want to cry from embarrassment now. Crocodile is just angry that your romantic feelings got in the way of your work, you convince yourself this.

In reality, the second you admitted this, Crocodile saw red. You have feelings for someone? Nobody but he deserves your kind and loyal personality. You fit him perfectly and he would protect you no matter what. So, he is angry at whoever has your mind and heart right now.

He lost his composure for a second and he regrets it upon seeing your saddened face. Slight pride is in him for being able to get that reaction out of you though because that means you know your feelings for another are unacceptable.

Crocodile decides to go straight to the point. “Tell me who he is so I can destroy him. You are aware that feelings only cause distractions.”

The words sting and hard. He can see you flinch from this and your hesitation is strong. This is a first and he astounded that you out of everyone else may withhold this information. It almost makes him scoff. Of course, he should have known better. Even among the most loyal, they may betray him.

He is ready to crush all his feelings for you at this moment when you open your mouth and freeze. He allows you the moment to say the stupid name, but his eyes widen at what you do say.

“It is you. I like you romantically.”

He can sense your need to go run and hide and honestly? With what he does next he does not blame you. He laughs. Anyone would take this the wrong way which is why he is quick to compose himself and say, “This changes everything. Especially since I return your feelings. It would only make sense that we get involved with each other officially to avoid any more distractions, doesn’t it?”

He seems to have broken you as you stare at him awe that he really feels the same way. He accepts that as an answer.

“Prepare for a date tonight. Expect nothing but the best now that I can freely call you my woman.”

Smoker-

Today felt funny to Smoker for some odd reason. Usually, he is not this dense especially when his subordinates are involved which is why he is getting heavily annoyed that they are whispering amongst themselves while sending him glances.

He can’t recall what he did to warner these glances, but he suspects it has something to do with you as soon as he sees them glance your way. You, as always, are stuck in your head. It makes him stop as he thinks about you for a moment.

You are a strong and resilient woman. At first, he did not believe this with how much of an airhead you were but then he saw you in battle and honestly? He saw you more than a subordinate. He realized how compassionate you were for others. Seeing you in a different light alone made him angry but whenever you are around, he becomes fully aware of his body’s and emotion’s reactions to you. He becomes aware of how the subordinates treat you.

Getting a bit irritated with his feelings, he looks away from you and begins to glance over the ship. Though from the corner of his eye he can see Tashigi talking to you. He huffs more at the thought of you two being closer seeing as you both are the only females on this marine ship.

He looks away and grits his teeth as the irrational thoughts in his head begin to deepen.

“Sir? Sir!” You call out making him jump.

He immediately tries to fight off the blush trying to paint his cheeks as he realizes how close you are to him. You are trying to peer into his face to see if he is okay.

“Are you okay?” You ask genuinely concerned.

Smoker forces him to cough as he nods his head. “Yes. Fine. What is it you need, (Last Name)?”

“I, uh, it really is nothing. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you and that I actually find you really attractive and I know it’s against the rules since you are my superior and all but when I look at you I see a handsome man that I can really build a future with and I haven’t felt this way about anyone else before and I just can’t help admire the way you look and behavior sometimes and-”

Many ands later, Smoker’s face has turned beet red and he can feel the need to vanish into the smoke but from sheer happiness. You, you confessed to him? Even more, you gave a whole speech with your confession and somehow you manage to look adorable as you try and retract your confession. You seemed to realize that you ended up rambling and now became a mess as you try and backtrack the conversation to the original question of if he was okay.

He finally as enough. He can’t help it, especially when he finds out that your feelings are mutual. He grabs your face with one hand, pinching your cheeks as he makes you pucker your lips and he pushes his on top with ease.

It made you shut up… Oh… It made you almost pass out. He can feel the heat off your face as your brain sizzles from malfunctioning.

“Go finish your duties (Name)… I’ll request a night off for the two of us for a proper date,” Smoker whispers as he returns to his serious face.

Even if he does get serious again, you can’t help but notice the slight pink on his cheeks still that is proof you accomplished something with your confession.

[nevertheless-moving]

This Crackship has Inspired Me

inspired by this by @maulusque which is the funniest star wars ship i’m somehow only learning about just now.

Palpatine listened with the same idle half attentiveness he always reserved for Skywalker’s ramblings about his wife, smiling and nodding genially at the appropriate intervals. At least his rants about blasted Kenobi or his monstrous little Padawan yielded tactical insights into the Jedi Order’s weaknesses. 

There was very little he could do with ‘shine of Senator Amidala’s hair’ or the ‘brilliance of his speeches.’ Of course, he always found something to use but there was an awful lot of nonsense to sift through.

“...I still can’t believe she married me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more...” Skywalker trailed off.

“You deserve every happiness, my boy.” Palpatine said kindly.

Anakin looked down, a shadow falling over his face. He stared into his drink.

“What is it?” Sidious pried gently.

Skywalker hesitated. “Can I tell you something...and can you promise not to...think to badly of me for it?”

Palpatine leaned forward, disguising his keen interest behind a reassuring ‘genuine-warm-smile.’ “Of course, Anakin. I couldn’t lose my confidence in you anymore than you could lose yours in me.”

The anxious Knight took a fortifying sip of Soulean brandy before leaning forward and confessing in a low whisper, “I was happy of course during our wedding- but- more than that- I felt. Satisfied. Victorious. I mean.” Skywalker took another gulp. “Jedi aren’t supposed to get, you know, possessive of people. And slaves...its complicated.” 

“Whatever you say, I promise it will never leave this room.” Palpatine encouraged him with his best grandfatherly-tone.

“On Tatooine...” Skywalker’s voice was barely audible, and Palpatine had to restrain himself from shaking the words out of him. The boy typically preferred not to discuss his most easily manipulated vulnerability.

“In the slave quarters...the most valuable thing a person can own is themselves. And even if you can’t be free- you can choose to have a different master. It’s not- it’s not the most common form of s-secret marriage. Or even the most approved. It’s actually a little taboo.”

Skywalker hunched in on himself and Sidious kept his face gently neutral.

“But- I remember feeling so good when I won that podrace. I earned something important and it was me who did it. And this was better than that. Padme- she didn’t even love me that much at first - I think I was always going to let her have me, if she just asked. It was one of the first things I thought when she walked in- It was one of the first things I thought when anyone wealthy looking came in the shop, ‘what if they buy me?’ And she was so clean and beautiful and I thought that if it was her maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But somehow I won her and she chose to bind herself to me. So...we both kind-of have each other but-”

Skywalker dropped his head in his hands.

“It’s probably wrong- I know it’s wrong- but winning her? A smart, headstrong, gorgeous person who should by all rights want nothing to do with me- I don’t think I’ll ever match that sense of victory. Of power. No matter how many battles I win or enemies I destroy. And- that’s what I felt during my wedding.” 

Palpatine leaned back, impressed despite himself. He had always despaired over the boy’s seeming lack of desire for power for its own sake. But that was almost...poetic. He had never been much for ‘romance’ but he did very much enjoy when his enemies chose, under their own power, to play into his hands. Making that happen on such an intimate level... well he could almost see the appeal. 

Out-loud he said, “I think that feeling is perfectly natural, my boy. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Really?” Anakin said, pathetically hopefully.

How to phrase this...

“I myself enjoy a sense of, well, power, over others. From time to time. Of course, I know its not the same, but when I manage to pass a tricky piece of legislation the feeling of winning over another often personally overshadows my anticipation of the joy my work will bring. It’s perfectly normal and harmless. It’s not as though that feeling of victory over another diminishes the good my actions do. And you and the Senator are so very good together. Don’t let shame yourself for a...harmless bit of perceived darkness.”

He clasped Anakin on the shoulder and the idiot beamed back at him adoringly. 

Long after the evening ended and his future Apprentice departed, Darth Sidious sat in his office musing.

A simple probing into an exploitable flaw had revealed a dimension of power Palpatine had, shockingly, never considered. Sex was enjoyable, but ultimately not a priority. And rape was one of the less creative forms of torture. But love- tricking someone into falling in love- earning someone’s absolute devotion- there was a certain appeal. 

Obviously he had sycophants by the score, but Skywalker had incredibly said it himself: ‘a smart, headstrong, gorgeous person who should hate him.’ Now that would be a triumph. And Senator Amidala even knew about her husband’s less traditionally tasteful sides! Anakin really had pulled off a bizarre coop, hadn’t he? His pretty face probably helped give the whole process a boost, but Sheev had a rather impressive amount of personal wealth in need of a new mechanism for display that should serve the same function. He decided to keep the matter under consideration.

A week later, during a briefing with Commander Fox- who he would decommission for the sheer number of senatorial secrets he possessed were he not proving so uniquely invaluable at suppressing food shortage riots- the idea reemerged.

It would tie up a number of loose ends if those secrets were wholly under my control- and there would be a delicious irony in having one of my most elegantly designed weapons choose to serve me so completely before the choice was taken away...

Palpatine was nothing if not patient, and decided to bide his time, carefully observing before committing any real energy or resources.

Another week after that, the Commander came in for another meeting, absolutely professional but clearly projecting the wincing sensation of a hangover as well as...nerves? The over-promoted clone was usually freakishly adept at maintaining natural mental shielding, but apparently the over-indulgence had weakened him. 

Throughout the briefing the nerves gradually hardened into determination before his typical mental walls came up to block any other easily-gleaned insights. Palpatine was intrigued.

After the conclusion of their scheduled business, Fox cleared his throat. “That’s a very...flattering robe you’re wearing.”

Palpatine raised a brow. The commander usually didn’t try flattery on him, not because it never worked, but simply because he seemed to find it beneath his skills.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Commander.”

“I can be very...kind. When the mood strikes me. And red is a very...striking color on you.” Palpatine blinked rapidly, genuinely shocked for the first time in quite a while. That was absolutely a suggestive tone of voice. Could his mere idle thoughts somehow have already manifested themselves?

“Oh?” Palpatine responded calmly. “I can’t say I knew that, Commander.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sir.” He drew out the last syllable in a... new way. Typically when the Guard Leader said ‘sir’ it was either sarcastic, neutral, or inexplicably pronounced like a slur. This time he seemed to caress the word in a manner that wouldn’t be out of place in a bedroom.

Before Palpatine could think of how he wanted to reply, the clone bowed lowly and marched towards the door. At the exit he paused and pulled off his helmet.

Free of the vocalizer, his voice was much smoother, “And please, when we’re alone...feel free to call me Fox. Sir.”

“Thank you, Fox. Safe travels,” Palpatine called weakly as the figure slipped away.

Palpatine leaned back, grinning wickedly. Well. This was an interesting development.

[ameliyaahn3]

13 days series : Day One, 20th December.

Genre : Fluff, Comfort, (lame ass one) Humor.

Warning : Things get heated up at end but nothing shocking.

Word count : Around 1k800.

Summary : Akashi bringing his empress to his chalet for christmas holidays but it's also his birthday. What will Y/n prepare for him ?

Akashi Seijuro × Reader.

Even then, you weren't used of that life of luxury and comfort with Seijuro : whatever you would salivate for, he was capable to give it to you twice or in a matter of a minute -if that's not even too much-: what was for sure something you can't even dream of in your wildest fantasty. And as the wealthy man he is, once again Seijuro impressed you by bringing you on vaccation at his family chalet.

Snow was surronding the beautiful and big place when you stepped outside the car, a warm and refined hand holding your fingers at the same time. You turn your head to see your boyfriend smiling what does make you instantly excited as his eyes are slightly shining at your view. Your blood going trough your veins so fast, you can't help but wait to drag Seijuro into the house and listening to whatever he has to say about it.

You know his chalet to be somewhere he would at least visit once a year and as a place full of funny and innocent chilhood memories that conted by him would just sound so interesting. As the cold started to hit a little bit too harshly on your faces, Seijuro finally decided to guide you to the traditional house, maids and butlers behind with your baggages.

" Pleased, my love ?" You nodded positively, a grin forming on your lips, " How I could not ?" the majestous tree were absorbing your soul.

"I know that you're not always comfortable with my wealth and all thoses prestigious places but I hope this time you won't feel any discomfort being here." The way he talks so smoothely drives you naturally to look at his charming face, what do distract your attention from the unique landscape. However do you regret it ? Not even one second.

" I can't be bothered by a place that is like home for you." You said, your stomach feeling like there butterflies in it despite it does make 9 months you're together. Sensations conservating pretty good like an old bottle of wine, it's really something to be in couple with this man.

" I wish you would think of my gifts as the furnitures then." You chukle a little bit at his come-back, not bad actually but how could you not feel weird when he's offering you expensive jewerly and dates on the only motive that you're his lover ?

" Sei..."

" Because I can't imagine a world that I would truly enjoy without you, you deserve the best, Y/n. Though I've fallen for your independance, since we're one, everything mine is yours, you should not being ashamed of anything."

Seeing you opening your mouth to try to justifiate your attitude, Akashi shut it with his own, deposing a small peck on your lips that destroyed all trace of a logic and inteligent answer in your mind.

What a drag... How would you return him all he give to you the same ? Nothing that you can buy can value even the smallest thing that he had already offrered you, but it was his birthday tomorrow and except of your present you couldn't think of something appropriate to express your love to him.

" Shht, my dear. You know I'm right." He says with a smirk.

Besides making you feel like the first days, Seijuro know also how to make you pout like a child despite that you're supposed to be decently mature.

" That's not fair..."

────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

In front of the chimney, you observe the fire dancing, your head lies on Akashi shoulder's as he's taking a pause on his book and that a cup of hot chocolate is between your hands. It was for sure one of the most relaxing moment you ever had in the past 6 months, forgetting about school, work or whatever were drowning you down in general it was inexistant here.

" That table... I used to play on it a lot with my mother."

" What kind of games ?"

Akashi smile when he hear sincere interest in your voice, not surprised of your curiosity when it involve him even for the silliest subjects. It was one of the reason you were with him afterall and not another person.

" Cards games mostly and even if I was a child, I don't remember having similar struggles winning against my mother than anybody else till now."

" So she was an high level player ?"

" Surprisingly not and she would admit herself that she was even quite unlucky, I used to not understand why I had so much difficulties with her but now it's pretty clear that I was inconsciously doing of sort to play with her more."

" It's adorable but insulting at the same time, i don't know how I would take it if I was in her position. You didn't do this with me right ?"

"..."

His laugh makes you felt like death has suddenly taken your body and your diginity with it.

"Maybe you can try to found out yourself ?" He put his book aside, amused by the situation.

" I've never felt so insulted in my life... Seijuro affront me right now, one one." Determined by your pride you still kept your calm and called him more in a playful tone than anything else.

" You won't be mad at me when you will find out how I play with you Y/n?"

" I can't promise that... i've been believing that I was good at shogi during more than a year!"

" And you're good."

" But how do I know for real now ?"

"Alright, alright... let's play then. Even if you finish to be angry at me that wouldn't last long."

" Wha-? You know that you're irresistible and you makes benefit of it on me ?! That's vicious... and I love it against my own agreement. How do you do ? That's disgusting."

" You're doing this to me everyday, Y/n."

" No i don't..?"

" You definitely do."

You don't even bother to pursuing that thing and sit in front of the said table with cards that you found around. Today was the day of truth.

 ────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

After losing 13 rounds in a row you didn't bother to test Akashi again and let him with his undefeated title. But most importantly, while playing against him you didn't saw something that would say he was holding back on purpose, what surprised you and comforted you a little bit on your own skills.

After that, you decided to take an hot bath and you had a sumptuous diner which by the way makes you felt really heavy. Filled Up and clean, there was nothing that you would need in the moment and so time went by and at the end you wanted to sleep. The Emperor led you to your shared room and before letting your body enjoy a restful night, you took initiative of a cuddle session. Making soft contact with Akashi's skin, your fingers doing small circles on his palm hand and forearm.

As sleep is slowly taking you away, your boyfriend whispers lovely words in your right ear and stroke your back, plunging you into another world : Watching the snow failling gently in the window with the elegant lights of the room while being under thoses pretty sheets with Akashi Seijuro beside... Everything looked like a dream. You took a look in the direction of your hidden gift, thinking of how you would make it memorable and your eyes closed despite a sudden excitation and vague of ideas that poped in your head last minute.

During the whole night, it was like your soul aspired to wake up early and so you slept easily but as if you're body is schedulded, first hour in the morning, 5:45 am you were awake and as you were quiting bed stupid flash of the game yesterday evening came to your head making you thinking that Akashi pitiyied you because of small action in his game, you pipe that idea away and focus on your tasks.

First step was the more difficult one but you managed to get out the bed without being noticed. You wanted to make breakfast for him but also as he would wake up, wish him an happy birthday quite special with his present in your hands.

Maids bringed the bouquet of roses you requested and helped you cooking food. You had so much plans for his birthday... If you remember well, there was that Power Point waiting in your draft explaining how perfect he is and why he should be happy, healthy and live so much years more. But you didn't carry on that idea as that wasn't amazing enough and that in fact that would be just you acting as a fangirl of your boyfriend during an hour at least.

You watch at the time, knowing that your lover used to being awake around 6:30-7:00 also on weekends while during winter even the sun doesn't rise that early.

You walk into the room, taking your gift quickely and in silence, posing the plate of breakfast that you tried your best to please him with. Well, you look at him to see that he's sligthly waking up, a smile grows on your lips.

Once you see one of those red orbs open, you heart skips a beat, Akashi sit on his bed a genuine smile as he see you.

" Good morning, Y/n."

and you can't help but kiss him.

" Happy birthday Seijuro!"

As you crash your lips in a sweet and chaste manner yet still filled with an unquestionable passion, you give him roses and put on evidence the breakfast. The smell of roses mixed with delicious plates increasing Akashi joy even if he doesn't show it in an obvious way.

" You didn't have to do this, Y/n... But it makes me really happy, Thank you."

" Do not thank me yet..! I haven't given you everything and you deserve the best."

You lay on his hand the package, letting him being curious to what is it. After taking a glance at you, he decide to open your gift and see an antique but expensive -for someone of your class- watch with his and your initials, because the clock is foldable when you unclip it, you can see a picture of his mother that you've put.

Akashi seemed quite touched and took your hand in his, a soft and nostalgic expression on his face.

" I obvisouly can't offer you one of the newer and expensive jewerly but I was sure that this one would be at your liking."

Emotional value combined with an utilitarian purpose, not to mention the style.

" And it is, you did well Y/n. It's until now the most valuable item I have in my possesion... I will cherish your present."

" And I will cherish you... Doesn't it sounded like a weeding vows ? Haha... However I will cherish you for real and in all the way possible so even if I can't give you as much as you do in terms of material... My affection would value at least as much if it's not even a lot more."

You said that while coming closer to him, eyes full of desire and of need to proove your love. Akashi put all thoses object you bring in bed on the nearest table as a more lewd expression took place on his face.

" Convince me."

And you were already under him.

" Maybe this one would be my favorite birthday."

[reydelcastill0]

Are They Selfish?

Tubbo likes their friends a lot, don't get them wrong. But seeing Tommy with his family reminds Tubbo how much they yearn for their own family. They hope it's okay to have found one in Manberg.

Tommy has always had it all. Friends, family... And often times, the spotlight. Tubbo wasn't jealous of it, because they always had second-hand whatever Tommy had, but it was tiring experience everything like that. They wanted Wilbur's attention, too, or to be acknowledged as more than an errand boy. And they also didn't want to suffer alongside Tommy. They know that sounds rude, but sometimes Tubbo has to pay for things Tommy does and he doesn't.

They like hanging out with Tommy, being their best friend and all. It's just exhausting to be forced into a supporting character role. They probably don't want the main character role anyways, but they want more than they have. They're not jealous of Tommy, who seems favored by Wilbur. They're not jealous, and they don't think they ever could be. They love Tommy too much to... Well, Tubbo just knows they wouldn't abandon Tommy, not on purpose, and not out of jealousy. They can only imagine under one specific condition, but Tubbo knows Tommy loves them just as much as Tubbo loves him, so it would never happen.

Tubbo, who had initially thought Tommy and Wilbur's drug scandal was not good, but quickly changed over because of Tommy, knew they would never leave Tommy. They weren't even mad when Tommy left them, he was exiled. Even if all Tubbo wanted to do was follow him, but couldn't, Tubbo wouldn't be mad at Tommy. If anyone, they should be mad at Schlatt. Schlatt separated the boys, immediately doing so by blinding Tubbo with fear and a promise of power.

"Tommy?" Tubbo had called out, forgetting to turn on their walkie-talkie as they realized that he was truly gone, standing in shock as they watch their friends run away from an onslaught of arrows. They remain in L'Manberg, primarily out of shock, but mostly hoping for a sign that perhaps Schlatt is joking. That maybe after talking about the fountain and lowered taxes... That maybe Schlatt would say that he was joking. Tubbo quickly learns the new president— the emperor— wasn't.

"Tubbo? Where's Tubbo? Where's Tubbo" They hear Schlatt say, the mic amplifying his voice with an echo. It can be heard all across L'Manberg, the walls failing to dampen the sound.

"I'm right here," is all they can bring themselves to say. They stand at the top of the walls, watching Schlatt speak to the podium. Schlatt grins, the action being just shy of a smirk, when he spots them.

"Tubbo, get— get up here, get up here on my podium," Schlatt says, but Tubbo immediately stutters, "C'mon Tubbo, you're the secretary of state." He spoke matter-of-factly, catching Tubbo off guard. It filled them with a sense of hope and joy. They can keep their job? Surely not...

"Wait, what?— ok?" They hear Quackity chime in with 'Effective immediately, Tubbo.' "Wait I'm secretary— am I?"  The promise of it is extremely intriguing. For a moment, it makes Tubbo forget about Tommy. They begin heading back to where the podium is, exiting the walls of L'Manberg.

"Yeah, I think that's, think that's— I think he's always been that? I dunno," Schlatt says. He doesn't seem to really bother much about the facts, he still seems keen on keeping Tubbo around. That makes Tubbo a slight bit happy, too. Schlatt doesn't care what Tubbo's status of power was, all that matters to him was Tubbo. Tubbo!

"Yeah, yeah that's... I didn't know I got to keep my—"

"Well I'm not gonna fire you! I mean you're Tubbo! What am I, gonna fire Tubbo?" He speaks of Tubbo as though they are extremely valuable to him. As if their worth to the nation is obvious. It's not, at least, Wilbur has never made it seem that way. This seems like a step-up, but Schlatt is conveniently making them lose sight of what's important here.

"Uh, okay?" Tubbo agrees, confused on to why Schlatt even wants to keep them. Everyone treats them like an errand boy. Besides, they're Tommy's best friend, shouldn't they be exiled as well. What good is Tubbo to Schlatt if Tommy isn't there, too? Everyone always wants Tommy around.

Schlatt's tone had remained slightly jovial, but then all of a sudden his tone becomes frighteningly serious. "Tubbo, get up here. Now." It makes Tubbo a slight bit scared, worried about what happens if they don't comply with the 'emperor'.

"I've- I've— I'm actually currently—," Tubbo decides for a moment what they want to do. Standing at the start of the path leading to the podium, they weigh their options. They could go find Tommy... Or they could stand beside Schlatt as a secretary of state. They make their choice, but they don't truly consider it. "Ok, I'm on my way," they repeat so that Schlatt does not assume otherwise. Their words have a hint of fear, no doubt because Schlatt is single-handedly the most intimidating man on the server. Far more than Dream could ever hope to be.

"Get up here now," Schlatt commands. It's frightening, so Tubbo hastens even more. They walk up the steps and rush to Schlatt. The fear driving them more than the desire for the position. They continue repeating, "I'm on my way."

Schlatt continues to goad Tubbo onto the podium, his tone returning to a more friendly and inviting one when he spots them. "Take my spot on the podium!" He cheers. He begins to praise Tubbo as though they were the very reason the nation is worth anything. It makes them feel more wanted than they have in a while. Being called the goat-man's right hand man even further solidifies the thought, overpowering their need to find Tommy and join him. Tubbo is caught off guard by the positive attention, of Schlatt's claims and appraisal.

They only snap out of it when Schlatt says, softly yet with an underlying tone of menace, "I need you to find Tommy, and I need you to show him the door. Rumor has it, he's around here..." Tubbo complies, defeated beyond belief. At least they can still go and find Tommy. Unfortunately, not under the ideal conditions. They turn on the walkie-talkie and ignore Tommy as he tries to convince Tubbo not to go through with this. They don't want to, but they chose Schlatt over their friends— their leader and their best friend. Tubbo chose Schlatt... They hope they won't regret it; they know they will.

(Thankfully, they eventually manage to convince Wilbur and Tommy of their support— their allyship. If only they would have been allowed to join Pogtopia.)

Perhaps, Tubbo shouldn't have chosen to side with Schlatt. Then, maybe, they would've been with Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno... The brothers. Tubbo would have loved to have been apart of that. But Schlatt treats Tubbo as though they're valuable and Tubbo wonders if that's how they would've been treated at Pogtopia. Schlatt even takes time to talk to Tubbo. To ask them about their day, their progress with assignments, and even tries to hang out with them.

It makes Tubbo feel wanted— more wanted than anyone has made them feel in the longest time.

And everyone is so supportive of Tubbo, even when Tubbo says they're pregnant. They're not, but Schlatt is so respectful about Tubbo's privacy that Tubbo actually enjoys it. Schlatt doesn't ask who the dad is, or how long they've been pregnant, or what they'll name the baby (that doesn't exist). Instead, Schlatt makes a slight effort to even give Tubbo less labor intensive work. After all, it's bad for the baby. At least, that's what Quackity had told Schlatt. No doubt to ease up the work on the child.

Quackity and Fundy fully support Tubbo, not batting an eye at the pregnancy. Fundy seemed skeptical at first, but they brush it off eventually. Tubbo wonders why, but forgets to ponder it any longer when Fundy asks if they're is anything Tubbo needs. Fundy is so kind to Tubbo. Has been since Tubbo officially became a member of the L'Manberg SMP.

Fundy seems to have bought the pregnancy story, even going so far as to tell Tubbo that he'll support them. Tubbo is glad, regardless of the validity of their own child. Tubbo remembers that once, they and Fundy had say down inside of L'Manberg's walls and talked. It was the night that Wilbur had said that Fundy was born a girl. Curiously, Tubbo asked what that meant, only to find out that they themselves were in a similar position. They became much closer than ever, bonding over being trans and how they wish Wilbur would give them a fraction of the attention they give Tommy.

Now, Fundy and Tubbo have room to bond over more things.

"Schlatt's really nice," Tubbo says randomly while they're hanging out. He is, Tubbo wouldn't argue otherwise. Schlatt is very considerate of his citizens. He takes time to check in on all of them. Tubbo attributes most of that to the need to hold control and to make sure no one is forming an inside rebellion. Tubbo wants to attribute it to that, but Tubbo feels like the man genuinely cares.

"Yeah," Fundy responds, "He calls me son."

"I've noticed. He's called me son once, too," Tubbo says. They ponder over it. Schlatt is a nice man. He acts like a dad and makes sure everyone is in good health. He let's everyone have their fun. He's very different from Wilbur, even though the former president wanted his citizens to be in good health. Schlatt treats everyone respectfully and equally. It doesn't matter that Fundy is a Soot. He conveniently ignored that fact, accepting that Its Fundy Soot is simply Fundy.  He doesn't even care that Fundy and Tubbo are trans. He just treats them like any other citizen.

"He treats me like I'm normal," Fundy says with a sigh. Wilbur never did. Wilbur always baby-talked him and called him Champion. It was patronizing. Schlatt gives them all a default level of respect that Wilbur never really gave. It's a very welcome change.

"You are normal," Tubbo says.

"We are normal," Fundy corrects. After a bit, they direct the conversation to Tubbo's baby. Fundy is as respectful about Tubbo's privacy as Schlatt, but he seems exited no less. Tubbo is glad to have someone like Fundy in their life. He's like a brother. They've always wanted a brother.

Tubbo feels like he was lucky to get another brother, too. Quackity is the most concerned about Tubbo, seemingly trying to prevent Tubbo from doing mentally scarring things. He tried his best to stop Tubbo from the tearing down the walls, yelling as he watches do so with tears. Quackity also gets very concerned and stressed whenever Schlatt scolds Tubbo. Yeah, at times Quackity is more in tune with Schlatt, trying to keep the child in check and making sure he isn't part of any rebellion. Yeah, Quackity is most of the reason Schlatt is in power in the first place, but Quackity's loyalty wavers. If they could've done so, they would have tried to get Quackity to support Pogtopia.

Quackity is loyal, even if it seems like at times they reevaluate their stance, and won't turn against Schlatt. Tubbo tried to gauge Quackity's allegiance and came up with nothing. Quackity is pro-Manberg through and through. But at least the loyalty he pours into the nation is poured into Tubbo as well.

He always checks in with Tubbo when Schlatt is being a bit mean. He tells Tubbo that he'll always be there for them and if they ever need someone to help or step in, to let him know. Quackity is adamant that Tubbo knows he can be trusted. After all, Tubbo is a Manbergian. Tubbo matters to Quackity, and Tubbo likes to think that they still will even if things go south.

Tubbo likes that. He always worried Wilbur would ignore them like he does with Fundy. But neither Schlatt nor Quackity, and not even Fundy, ignore Tubbo. Everyone is so considerate of Tubbo's feelings.

Tubbo is glad that people care about him.

His feelings about Schlatt, Fundy, and Quackity become fully realized during one meeting with Tommy. Tubbo ends up in possession of all the discs. The discs that started a mess. A mess that has eventually become Manberg. They were with Tommy, who seemed worried and anxious. Wilbur has gone crazy, but Tommy doesn't say much about it. Instead he proposes to run away. Tubbo is almost on board with the idea.

They have all they've ever wanted. They're part of a war because of the discs. They could run away, take the discs with them and never look back. Except... Well, Tubbo has made a family in Manberg. Schlatt is so kind to Tubbo. Manipulative, they know, but Tubbo knows how genuine Schlatt is most of the time. Schlatt cares, even if he tries to appear otherwise. Fundy and Tubbo are closer than they ever have been. Bonding over the fake baby (not fake to Fundy's— or anyone's— knowledge) or their enjoyment in the nation. Quackity is there, too, concerned about Tubbo almost every step of the way. Tubbo can't leave that behind. Tubbo doesn't want to. They love everyone too much.

But Tubbo can't tell Tommy that. If Tommy decides to leave, they will. They've made heartbreaking decisions before. But Tommy changes his mind, and they both end up agreeing that for Wilbur, they'll keep fighting. Tubbo knows that, deep down, they're going to stay because the people in Manberg matter to Tubbo, even if they're the enemy.

Are they selfish? Are they selfish for wanting  the family they've never had? Even at the cost of what's 'right'?—

Once about to part ways with Tommy, Schlatt, Fundy, and Quackity arrive at the embassy. Tubbo and Tommy become panicked, and Tommy leaves the excuse to Tubbo. It's not hard to think of one, it's very easy to reuse one after all. The same one they've been having to use this whole time.

Schlatt quickly asks Tubbo about this. It does look suspicious. Tubbo is from Manberg; Tommy was exiled and is now a vital part of Pogtopia...

Tubbo rushes to Schlatt's side and tugs on the goat-man's arm. Schlatt understands that Tubbo wants him to lean down a slight bit. "You know how I said I was pregnant?"

"Yeah?" Schlatt answers, wondering why Tubbo would need to meet up Tommy. He tenses, and Tubbo thinks it's a sign of him being a slight bit angry. Tommy looks a bit worried, shocked, and slightly scared (from what Tubbo can see) Tubbo, before continuing, realizes that maybe they think Tommy will be claimed as the dad.

"He's my pediatrician," Tubbo states. There's no hesitation. Both Schlatt and Tommy relax.

Schlatt seems confused, until he realizes what Tubbo means to say. "A gynecologist," he corrects Tubbo. Tubbo instantly agrees. Schlatt doesn't seem content, though, especially when Tommy starts pointing his gun at Schlatt for breaking apart the embassy.

Schlatt seems like he's about to sick everyone on Tommy, but Tubbo just furthers that Tommy is a perfectly fine gynecologist. "I like them rude," "I crave bad behavior," and what-not.

Everyone seems sold on the cover story, but a bit disappointed.

"Maybe you should let us know you're going to handle your pregnancy," Schlatt says, and everyone agrees. Tubbo feels happy when he realizes Tommy is not the issue here, but rather Tommy's qualifications. They don't want Tubbo to suffer from any sort of malpractice. They care about Tubbo's health and will set aside differences for Tubbo.

When Tommy leaves, shooting Quackity before doing so, everyone tells Tubbo that they want to help. They even suggest asking if Bad knows how to be a gynecologist. They trust their ally more, after all. They trust Bad with Tubbo, who matters to them. They all tell Tubbo that they matter and that they want them to be able to say they need to visit a doctor. They want Tubbo to trust all of them.

Tubbo feels bad that their whole pregnancy story is a lie. They feel so loved and supported by everyone it almost makes them cry. Tubbo hopes no one will be made when they have to come clean about the pregnancy.

When everyone is at Manberg, Schlatt takes Tubbo to the White House and talks with them.

"Tubbo," Schlatt starts. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Schlatt."

"Then can you please talk to me about your health. I know I don't know anything about babies, but you're going to have one! I want... I want to be there for you, ok?" Schlatt tells them.

"I— Thank you," Tubbo earnestly tells him, "Thanks, dad." It slips out of Tubbo too quickly for them to pull it back. They knew they had been thinking about the man as a sort of dad, but they didn't expect their thoughts to ever be vocalized, much less on accident.

"Dad?" Schlatt whispers. He seems baffled, eyes wide and ears pointed directly at Tubbo. Tubbo can see a bit of a smile form on his muzzle as he becomes a bit relaxed. "Dad... I like the sound of that," he mutters softly. He stands up and walks to Tubbo.

Tubbo stands up and when they realize that he is offering a hug. Tubbo instantly accepts. They wrap their arms around the man and hug tightly. This is nice, they think, very nice.

"I'm here for you Tubbo. You're my right hand man... My son." That alone means the world to him. Schlatt is his dad now, and Tubbo almost cries out of joy. This is all he's ever wanted. A dad... brothers... A proper family who values them.

Tommy has always had it all. Tubbo knows now that they were jealous. Jealous of it all. Tommy has brothers who would kill for him, a dad who cherishes him. Tommy has it all, even during exile. Tubbo wanted a piece of that, but alongside him? They would never have even been close to having that. Tubbo thinks they finally have it all, too. Tommy and their family. The discs...

Tubbo has it all now. They decide they'll enjoy it while it last. They'll help plan the festival and they'll enjoy it! With their family. They've finally found their family. Tubbo would fight for their family. Tubbo thinks that they'll choose their family... They just hope Tommy can understand, because Tubbo doesn't really want to make that decision, but they will if they have to.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for mermay, 12 ot4 nsfw?

Here you go! 12 was “captured.” Barclay’s design is based on a basking shark, Indrid’s on a flying fish.

They’ve done it. 

The crew of the Washington has captured a live mermaid; not the remains of one, not the stories of drunk or scared sailors, but a genuine, breathing, swimming mermaid. 

Joseph keeps pointing out that, technically, they’ve caught a merman. One with a smooth, almost black tail, coppery hair and beard, and a human torso that puts sculptors to shame. 

Not that Josephs attention to those details is for any reason other than scientific curiosity. He, Captain Hayes, several officers, and Duck Newton, the botanist joining them for this mission, are all regarding the merman in the tank constructed for just this purpose. Their guest is pressed to the far side of the glass, watching them with frightened eyes. 

The only person who looks less comfortable than him with this scenario is Duck. 

“I still say there’s no reason to keep the fella cooped up in here. Look at him, he’s terrified. And I don’t buy for one second the crew was gentle when they hauled him up. He fought at all, they probably got rough with him.”

“It is a good thing, then, Mr. Newton that you are not in charge of this endeavor.” Hayes says with a disapproving glance at the scientist. Duck frowns the instant the captain looks elsewhere. Joseph is more on Duck’s side, the mans willingness to speak up when he sees something unkind one of Joseph’s favorite traits. But he’s certain there’s room for compromise between the two views; after all, that’s why he’s here.

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

This is the worst day of Barclay’s life.

One minute he’s searching for urchins near shore, the next he’s being pulled towards the surface in a net. The last thing he sees under the waves is Indrid rounding the rocks, his red eyes widening in anger and sorrow as Barclay is heaved into a longboat. 

Barclay wishes he could tell him it isn’t his fault; the other mer has done so much to look out for him, but you can’t stay ahead of danger forever. Instead he’s huddled in the far corner of his prison, wanting to know what’s happening but terrified of drawing the human’s attention back to him. A parade of them come and go, some pointing at him or talking in circles while looking his way. One, black haired and tall, is in the room the most, writing at a desk and pulling books from a short set of shelves. His most frequent companion is another dark-haired man, shorter and stouter who keeps glancing at the first man whenever he thinks he’s not looking, then turning away with a pink color in his cheeks. 

The moon is up now, and only the tall human remains, writing by the light of a lantern. Cautiously, Barclay rises so his head is out of the water. At the splash, the human turns. 

“Oh, good evening. I, um, I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, but I decided it would probably be less frightening if I let you come to me in your own time. I’m Joseph Stern.”

“Barclay. Uh, are, are you the one who had them catch me?”

Joseph shakes his head, “No. I’m one of two scientists aboard this vessel. Her primary goal is to find new valuable riches for trade, but a secondary one is to collect knowledge of rare and exotic creatures, so that we might broaden our understanding of the world. I specialize in animals and my colleague, Duck, is an expert in plants.”

“...That doesn’t explain why I’m here. I’m neither of those things.”

The human sighs, “I know, but most of the sailors and officers view you as an animal.”

“But not you?” He narrows his eyes, swimming backwards. 

“Not at all. In all my research, I’ve found nothing to suggest merfolk are any less men than myself. The way you and I are talking now confirms that.”

“So I can go now?”

“No” he must notice the alarm in Barclay’s face because he sets his hands on the rim and the tank and adds, hurriedly, “but you’ll get to eventually. My job is to learn all I can from you, about your kind, your numbers, things like that. I’d prefer to do it in a more comfortable setting but I was, um, overruled.” He gives Barclay a reassuring smile, eyes bluer than open sea on a summer day, “You’ll be a free man in no time, I promise.”

Barclay nods, sinks back under the water, and eventually falls asleep. When wakes up at dawn, Joseph is still there, asleep in his chair. When Barclay asks if that’s how humans sleep, the man shakes his head, “No, we have beds. I just didn’t want to leave you alone your first night here, in case there was something you needed.”

His stomach growls as another human arrives with a tray of food and a pot of something that smells very, very good. He leans out of the tank, startling Joseph when he turns around.

“Oh! Um, I asked them to bring fish for your breakfast but you can try some of mine if you like. Assuming it won’t make you sick?”

“I’ve had human food before. But that’s new” he points at the pot, “Ma-, uh, the humans I know only drink tea.”

Joseph hands him the cup of what he soon learns is coffee and he sips it with a sigh; it’s bitter, but woody and dark in a way he enjoys. The human leaves, returns a few minutes later with a second cup, slides the tray within arms reach of Barclay and pulls a notebook from his desk, “Do you mind if we talk over breakfast?”

Barclay doesn’t mind at all. In fact, as the days go by he minds his captivity less and less. He and Joseph talk for hours, not only about mer society but about humans and their lives as well. About myths and stories, and a great deal about food, which Joseph brings him in abundance. Some of it gets soggy when Barclay tries to hold it, and they settle on Joseph keeping it between his fingers or in his palm while Barclay samples it. The first few times they do this the human blushes and looks away. When he finally meets Barclay’s eyes, the mer grins at him and licks his palm clean.

Joseph also takes great care to ensure Barclay isn’t bored. Barclay learns some chess and card games by watching Joseph and Duck play after dinner. In exchange he teaches Joseph how to play Five Shells High. When Joseph isn’t around, Barclay talks to Duck, and finds him good company, funny but also happy to let Barclay think in peace. 

He still longs for his freedom, for the ability to dive and swim in an endless sea. However, as Joseph sits beside his tank in the evenings, reading to him and smiling whenever Barclay reaches out to toy with his hair, he’s not in much of a hurry to get home as he should be. 

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

Any other time, Duck would tease Joe for mooning over a merman and reading him bedtime stories. Trouble is, he’s not much better. 

The night they brought Barclay aboard, Duck was halfway to bed when someone threw a crab through his open window. Peering out revealed another merman, silver haired and wary.

“Duck Newton?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, that is a relief. I was afraid I’d alerted the wrong human to my presence.”

“You threw this into my room on purpose?”

“Indeed. I, ah, foresaw you being both sympathetic to my plight and disinclined to tell others of my being here.” He stays close to the hull, voice a lilting whisper.

“The fella we caught today a friend of yours?”

“Yes, a close one. Is he alright? I, my visions show he is safe and that the human looking after him is kind but I, I am” his red eyes look sadly down at the water, “I am worried all the same.”

Duck wants to reach out to him, stroke that moonlight hair and tell him not to worry, “Ain’t no shame in carin about a friend. He’s safe, and he won’t be stuck on this boat forever. And the man stayin with him is a decent, honorable sort.”

The mer sighs, rests his head on the side of the ship, “Thank goodness.” When he turns his face to Duck, it steals the breath from his lungs, “may I come to you again for news of him?”

Duck smiles, “Sure.”

Indrid, as the mer calls himself, comes back every night. Luckily, Joe spends his nights in the cargo room with Barclay instead of in his and Duck’s quarters, so there’s no one to witness their conversations. It’s not that the other man would react badly; as much as Duck likes him, Joe is a little too inclined to defer to authority, and might put Indrid in danger without meaning to.

Better still, when Duck is ashore searching for specimens, Indrid keeps him company. The mer swims parallel to his path in the sand, or follows him up briny tributaries to show him rare plants. 

Unlike Barclay, Indrid has visible fins beside the one on his back; two he can extend from his sides. All are the same silver-blue shade that colors Duck’s dreams these days. 

Tonight they’re talking at the window about Duck’s travels when Indrid goes still. Then he sinks under the waves as the door behind Duck opens.

“Mr.Newton, who are you talking to? The men said they saw a creature off the side of the ship.”

“Uhhhhhhhh”

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

“I despise you.” Indrid glares over the edge of his tank.

“I said I was sorry! Ain’t my fault I can’t lie for shit.”

“No, but you could have told me about that issue before it got me imprisoned on a ship!”

“Hey, you’re the one who can see the future, you coulda warned me they were comin.”

Joseph and Barclay trade a concerned look; after an initial chirp of joy at seeing Barclay, Indrid directed all his focus to glaring at Duck while Woodbridge gave them their orders. 

“Um, Indrid, right? I’m sure Duck didn’t mean for you to be caught. And we’ll both make sure you’re comfortable while you’re here.”

Indrid spares a dagger filled glance for Joseph, then swims to the side of the tank closest to Barclay’s enclosure, popping up and leaning over to his friend, the two of them trading clicks and trills. The conversation calms Indrid some. Barclay explains later that he assured his friend the stay was only temporary and, while the conditions were not ideal, the company was good. 

All the same, any time Duck sits near Indrid’s tank, a silver tail splashes him with water. The botanist takes it in stride, seeming to accept it as a deserved penalty for getting Indrid trapped. 

Several days later, as they’re both working, the botanist sets down his pen, stands, and sets his back against Indrid’s tank. 

“Joe, gimme a hand please.”

Joseph pushes as hard as he can, and the tank scrapes across the floor.

“I can still splash you from here.”

“That’s not why I’m doin it. You and Barclay keep starin at each other all sad; seems mighty cruel to keep you where you can see each other but can’t touch.”

Indrid falls silent until they get the tanks side by side. Then he rises from the water and leans out to rub his cheek against Duck’s own with a trill of thanks. The research room is more peaceful (and much drier) after that.

Three nights later, dinner stops by the hold to see if either of the mers needs anything from him. He opens and then immediately shuts the door and backs away; he’s learned that mers are demonstrative, but heated, frantic kissing and moaning suggests something they’d rather not have him present for. Lord, why did it look like Barclay had two…

The hall is hotter than a furnace, and as he walks down it as fast as dignity will allow, Duck steps from the officers dining room. Wordlessly, Joseph grabs him and pulls him the rest of the way to their room.

“Everythin okay JoeOHfuck” Duck’s heads thuds back against the door as Joseph palms him through his trousers, “what’s gotten into you huh?” 

“I, I need, I saw, um” he rests his forehead on the door, hands gripping Duck’s hips, “Barclay and Indrid making use of their rare chance at privacy.”

“Uh huh” Duck kisses along his jaw, “and here I’ve been wonderin how to get you back into my bed since that night in Port Royal, when it turns out I just need to find some mermen and pay ‘em to fuck in front of you.”

“It’s not just that” Joseph looks down at him earnestly, “it’s you too. It’s so hard to keep my hands to myself, to maintain decorum and poise and not beg for your kisses every minute we’re at work. Seeing them together snapped the rest of my control, I need release but more than that I need you.”

“Right here, darlin” Duck pulls him down into a kiss, leaves a trail of them across his face, “so show me just how much you need me.”

He thuds to his knees, the two of them tugging and tossing at clothing until Duck’s legs are bare and Joseph can bury his face between them. He loves doing this, loves feeling enveloped by the perfection that’s Duck;s body. His hands grope and circle, relishing the muscle and fat beneath his hands as Duck holds him by the hair and tells him how good it feels, how well he’s doing, the grip tightening the closer his orgasm gets, until Joseph can barely breathe from how hard he’s pressed against him. 

He barely gets a chance to kiss his thigh in thanks before Duck hauls him up by his coat to kiss and spin him to the nearest bed. Black hair streaked with grey falls across green eyes as Duck grins down at him. 

“My turn.”

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

Barclay can’t look at Indrid without blushing; it’d been so long since they fucked and he’d forgotten just how nice it felt, how teasing and playful Indrid was as a mate. Case in point: as their kisses deepened, he whispered in Barclay’s ear that Joseph had seen them and was, as he spoke, pawing Duck in their room. Barclay moaned at the words and Indrid laughed, spread his side fins, and leapt into Barclay’s tank to lick and bite at the sensitive patch of tail that hid his cock. 

“My, my dearest, it seems Joseph is skilled with his tongue as well. Perhaps if you ask nicely we will use our mouths on you at the same time.”

Indrid is currently sighing as Duck combs his hair. Barclay takes a moment to watch the scene unfold: Indrid’s made no secret of his attraction to Duck (or Joseph for that matter), and Barclay likes seeing his friend happy, likes the way Duck touches him with the tenderness he deserves but will often deny himself. 

Joseph opens the door and calls, “Duck? Hayes wants to speak with us.”

The human departs and Indrid blows a kiss when his back is turned, then winks at Barclay. Barclay is about to ask if they have time to trade kisses of their own when Indrid freezes. 

“Oh no.”

Indrid cocks his head and Barclay follows suit, voices reaching him from the hall. 

“Captain Hayes, I must object to this plan. We can get all the information we need from my interviews with Barclay and Indrid, there’s no need to take them away from their home.”

“This is not about information, Mr. Stern. The company that funded this mission did so in the hopes that we would return with mermaids to sell. Which we have, and the two them alone will make not only the company but all of us rich men indeed.”

“Who gives a damn about riches? They ain’t fuckin treasure to be traded.”

“Mr. Newton-”

“Duck’s right, this is completely inhumane. If I’d known this was your goal, I’d never have agreed to this voyage.”

“The decision is final. And I’d advise you both to tread carefully from how you speak to me from here on; men of science or no, this is my ship, and what I say is the law.”

Indrid flicks his tail, swimming back and forth in agitation as Barclay curls his arms around himself; he doesn’t want to be taken away from home, and he certainly doesn’t want to be someone’s prized possession. Worse, Joseph doesn’t return, and so there’s no one to comfort him as he worries and Indrid sorts through unhelpful futures. 

He’s half-asleep when the door opens, gasps as a hand touches his shoulder.

“Can you heave yourself out of the tank?” Joseph whispers

Barclay nods, pushes himself up, out, and then into the human’s embrace. Across from him, Duck manages to carry Indrid in his arms on the first try.

“What are you doing?”

Joseph touches his face, “I promised you that you’d get to go free. I keep my promises.” 

With that they struggle out the door and up stairs, Indrid helping them determine when the coast is clear to reach the edge of the deck. He’s already dizzy, breath coming in gasps. Indrid wastes no time, launches himself into the sea with a graceful splash. 

“What, what will happen to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Joseph smiles sadly.  Barclay kisses him to the thunder of footsteps, then falls into the sea. 

The last thing he hears is Duck muttering, “Well...fuck.”

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

“Pirates would have at least given us a pistol.” Joseph lays on his back in the sand as Duck tosses rocks into the sea, The Washington disappearing on the horizon. 

“Yeah. That’s why Hayes ain’t one; he’d have to be too damn nice.”

Joseph chuckles, “True.”

Duck’s certain this is not even remotely what was supposed to happen, and it’s certainly not what either of them expected. Flogging, being thrown in the brig, brought up on charges when they arrived home all crossed their minds. Not being marooned on a small, deserted island with only the clothes on their backs. 

He doesn’t regret his choice. Joe doesn’t either. All the same, they spend a few hours on the beach bemoaning their fate or silently considering how to mitigate it. By evening, they determine it could be far worse. They’re study of the plants and animals of the region means they know what’s edible and what’s poisonous, there are fish in the shallows and a small spring hidden in the rocks and trees towards the center of the island. Duck suggests building signal fires when they can in case other ships are near, and they set up a rough lean-to as shelter from the sun. They spend the next few days figuring out how to survive, and Duck discovers just how charming Joe looks when he’s unshaven. 

(His budding facial hair also leads to the discovery that Duck;s thighs are incredibly ticklish).

They’re alright for now. Duck’s just worried about how long their luck will hold. 

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

Joseph is making a new spear, eyeing the storm clouds on the horizon, when Duck’s voice catches his attention. 

“Uh, you might not wanna wade out just yet. Looks like there’s a shark.” The other man points to a dark fin sticking slicing the water. 

“That doesn’t look like-”

“AHJESUS” Duck is knocked back onto the sand by shape with silvery fins and hair. His further commentary on the matter is cut off by Indrid kissing him, tail wiggling happily as he does. 

“I did not get to do that when we fled, there was no time, but oh how I wanted to.”

“Seriously, he kept saying I was smart to kiss you when I could.” Barclay’s entrance onto the beach is more graceful, using the surf to slide up the sand and settle at Joseph's feet.

“Oh yes, that reminds me” Indrid rolls off Duck, grabs Joseph’s shirt, and pulls him down into a kiss. 

“Y’all hunt us down just for some kisses?” Duck scoots over to join them, draping an arm over Indrid. 

“Nope. When Indrid’s visions showed us what they were gonna do to you, we knew we had to come get you. You, you’re here because you saved us-”

“It was the right thing to do” Joseph strokes the dark brown of his hair as Barclay rests his head on his stomach/ 

“And neither of us could stand the thought of losing you, especially not like this.”

“We would have arrived sooner, but we had to make arrangements for your rescue and get permission from the mer whose territory we’re technically in. 

“Fascinating. Are there borders, or identification or-”

“All in good time” Indrid purrs, nipping his ear. He shudders down to his toes as Barclay begins kissing his hips and belly. 

“Like the way you think, ‘Drid.”

“You will like how I do other things as well. Now come here” Indrid pulls Duck into his arms as Barclay crawls up Joseph’s body to kiss him properly. There’s salt on his lips, sweetness on his tongue, and Joseph sighs as he wraps his legs around the smooth, cool texture of his tail. Barclay smiles into the kiss, rolls his hips as Joseph teases his fingers up and down his sides. 

“I missed you so much.” Barclay murmurs, “nights aren’t the same without you keeping me company.”

“I missed you too.” He nudges his hips up, letting the mer know he’s heading in the right direction. 

“Holyfuck, you have-”

“Two, yes, is that not what humans have?” Indrid cocks his head at Duck. 

Joseph hides a smile, “See, Duck, I’m not the only one who finds you irresistible.”

“That and when Indrid gets going, he gets going fast.” Barclay adds. Indrid flicks water at him with his tail. 

“No kiddin. Joe, you gotta see this.” Duck climbs off Indrid, revealing two cocks protruding from the upper part of his tail. Joseph’s brain fails to supply any thoughts other than yes

Indrid preens under the attention, lazily stroking one shaft, “Are you all going to just gawk at me, or will one of you come and attend to the situation?”

“May, um, may I?” Joseph looks between the three of them, unsure whose permission he’s asking or what he’s asking it for. 

“Heh, oughta tell you two that Joe needs someone to order him around in bed.” Duck smirks as he crawls through the surf to kiss Joseph’s shoulders. 

“Is that so? In that case, be a good human and come ride my cock.” Indrid gestures to said cock with a flourish.

“But I was gonna go down on him.” Barclay mock pouts.

“We can do both at once. If he will hurry up and get his trousers off. Honestly, why do humans insist on so much clothing?”

“Because our dicks don’t stay nice and hidden until we need ‘em.” Duck disrobes along with Joseph. 

Red eyes rove across Duck hungrily, “I see. A lovely sight all the same. Now Joseph, come face away from me.”

He straddles Indrid’s hips on shaking knees, warm sand the perfect counterpoint to cool scales.

“Do not worry about taking both, my foresight suggests it will be too much right now. AHhnnn yes” he wriggles when Joseph strokes the shaft, bringing it into position. 

“The ridges are intriguing.” They also feel incredible on his hand, and he rushes to feel them inside him. 

“Do humans not have those either? Honestly, what do you haveAHahhhoh, oh nevermind, oh you’re so tight and warm, oh this is wonderful, Barclay, you have to try this.” The ridged cock bumps and thrusts into him, and Joseph tips his head back to moan. 

“I will. Got other things to do right now.” Barclay lays along Indrid’s tail, kissing both it and Joseph's legs before closing his lips around Joseph’s swollen cock. 

“Lord, ohlord that’s good, Barclay, Indrid, fuckplease.”

“Please what, Joseph?” Indrid thrusts more roughly.

“Just please, please don’t stop, it’s incredible, you both are.” His mind is going blank, his whole being thrumming with a singular desire; to be good, to filled and used and wanted.

“Fuck, Joe” Duck paints kisses along his back and shoulder, “you look damn good like this, takin it two ways at once.”

He pets Duck’s thigh, kisses him messily “You, someone should take care of you.”

“Yes they should” Indrid “come, sweet one, let me show you what I can do with my tongue.”

“Hell yeah” Duck scrambles away, and a moment later his moans fill the air, underscored by Indrid’s pleased laughter. 

Barclay hums, making Joseph jolt and squirm. The merman pulls back, winks at him, then drags his tongue along the cock not buried to the hilt in the human. 

“MMMPHHmmmmmm” Indrid’s garbled shout of delight makes the other three laugh.

“Jesusfuck, Barclay can you do that again, his mouth gets even better when you do.”

Barclay obliges and another moaning trill washes over the beach.

“God, it’s so fucking hot, watching him fuck you, wanna see it everyday” Barclay dives back down and soon Joseph’s orgasm crashes into him, his whole body twitching as pleasure overwhelms his nerves. Behind him, Duck lets out the singularly charming groan he always makes when he cums. Indrid is close behind him, spilling sticky and cool inside Joseph and across his thighs and Barclays chest. The other mer growls, roughly pulling Joseph off or Indrid and into the sand with him, the particles burning his knees as the merman grinds him roughly back and forth across his cock, not pushing in but not needing to, cumming in a few short seconds with a howl of ecstasy. 

They rearrange themselves, panting, so the mers are mostly in the surf and the humans mostly on the sand, he and Duck pulling their clothes back on to avoid sunburns in the worst possible places. 

“That was exquisite” Indrid sighs, resting between the humans with his silver tail draped across Barclay’s dark one. 

“No kiddin.”

“And we finished not a moment too soon.” Indrid points out to sea. 

Rounding the side of the island is a small sailing boat bearing the words  Amnesty.

“Man, I cannot wait to get us all home” Barclay smiles, kissing Joseph’s hand. 

The human leans down and kisses him back, “Me neither.”

[sweetygirl90]

How did frisk realize they're enby?

It’s long to explain and I don’t have time right now for a comic :( So...

I made a One-Shot! I usually explain myself better by writing than drawing. I just want to clarify that this is Frisk’s personal experience, it doesn’t have to be the same as other people.

I’m a spanish speaker so... I did my best translating this! I hope it’s good. This is from Frisk POV (something like that) so I made use of “he/him” pronouns at beginning.

                                            “Don’t belong”

It was still late afternoon, Frisk knew it because the big clock that hung on the living room wall. He was lucky to have it, because guessing the time just by looking through the hole he had fallen into was not very efficient. Many trees covered the sky from there and not having a wide view of the horizon hindered him more. In other words; looking at the sky wasn’t an option.

He had fallen underground a few days ago after what he hoped was his last reset. He knew perfectly what awaited him behind the enormous door of the ruins, he knew that sooner or later he would have to venture beyond that great portal to finish what he had started by falling into that world. He had promised that this would be the last time he would restart things if he got a good result and was not forced to go back to the beginning due to a failure, but until then he wanted to prolong this as long as possible. So sure everything would work out? Maybe, but if he ended up failing he would have a chance to repeat this again.

Yes, it wasn't very responsible to keep procrastinating like that, but could they blame him for it? From his first meeting with Toriel, something told him that next to him he would find his home, a place where he belonged, and it was difficult to detach himself from that new reality.

He didn't want to leave all of it just yet. Each moment with Toriel only became more enjoyable than the last. He was beginning to placidly get used to waking up feeling the soft fur of her muzzle brushing against him when she was going to wake him up with a warm hug and a kiss, he had memorized her characteristic aroma of caramel and cinnamon, unconsciously filing himself in those smells that comforted him. He wanted to continue that home routine a little more, he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could before he got into his work.

He wanted to be just an ordinary kid before he was the hero everyone expected him to be.

"And then the prince of water and the prince of fire got married and lived happily ever after... The end!"

Frisk smiled, raising another piece of cinnamon and butterscotch pie to his mouth as he watched comfortably curled up on Toriel's lap at the illustration of both characters from the storybook. If he was honest, he was at an age where he had lost interest in children's stories a bit, but he could never turn down the woman when she offered to read him one of them and she did it with such dedication and emotion. She even sometimes interpreted the voices of the characters changing the tone, although sometimes he lent her his help with that.

Most of the repertoire of stories didn’t stray from the typical fantasy trope with princesses, princes, knights, witches and wizards but... It was curious how monsters could interpret things in so many different ways. He swore that if he had taught this book to the adults in his orphanage they would have been shocked demanding to know who the degenerate was that would write such bestiality for the children to read.

The adults saw something frightening, he for the part of him only saw two princes in love in a nice simplistic illustration. He hadn't stopped to observe until now that monsters saw these things so naturally, as if it were something from day to day. Perhaps for them the plot twists of princesses escaping from their kingdoms to marry witches was already something of a cliché.

"Ah, what a beautiful story." The monster sighed, closing the book and setting it aside. "Did you like it, my child?"

Frisk nodded smiling, letting her gently stroke his hair. He almost always heard a derogatory comment from his ghostly companion in such cases, but they had been strangely quiet, listening intently to the narration all this time.

“I loved it.”

He lifted some of the pie back to his mouth, allowing himself to be comfortably pampered by Toriel's matted hands. Frisk still could not find a way to begin to describe how much he enjoyed her continuous displays of affection, how much he loved that woman who, even with a broken heart after so many losses, had love to give to the helpless children who fell into that underworld due to misfortune. There was no space for joy in his heart after having longed for since he was aware of the unconditional love of a relative, and that even after having lost all hope she had crossed his path.

He didn't care that she was a monster, he didn't care about anything anymore. He loved Toriel, she was his mother, and he wanted to stay with her.

Yes... He would, if he managed to free them all and no one would separate him from her side.

"Glad to hear it, my dear."

Frisk sensed her genuine happiness in her blue eyes and wished she could know just by looking at him how infinitely happy she made him just sitting there, looking at him as if his mere existence meant something to be grateful for. Toriel was like that with him, she made him feel valuable just by staring at him.

How was he able to coldly grip the knife against her? How did he have that stupid primal urge to harm her? Who did he think he was to see her as if she were nothing more than a dusty pothole that he stepped on as he left the ruins?

He regretted so much... He really regretted it. Even if she was ignorant of his sins, now Frisk wanted to show that he could be worthy of her, that he could make Toriel very happy. If she wanted a perfect and loving child that is what he would give her, although it was not very difficult to get it when he willingly wanted to follow her everywhere.

When his adventure came to an end he would strive to fulfill the fantasy of a happy family. He would be obedient, well behaved, loving... He would be the perfect child, he could not miss this opportunity.

Frisk had already been rejected by so many families... His heart would not bear another rejection, much less after he had tasted the true joy and warmth of home.

No matter the cost, even if it meant suppressing that part of him that he screamed for out in the open... He would do it to preserve this illusion.

He would be a good boy… Boy… Why did it still not sound good to say it like that?

"Oh dear… Look what time it is. It will be late for us to go grocery shopping and recalibrate the puzzles in the ruins.” Toriel watched the clock strike 4:30, patted his head once more, and got up after he got off her lap with help. "I'll find the bags to go out, while you can go change, my child."

Frisk nodded and went to his room. Something that had motivated him to stay with Toriel for a few days before inevitably moving on to Snowdin was his curiosity about what was outside the house. If he remembered something well from the books, it was that the ruins were much bigger than it appeared to the naked eye, after all the monsters used to all live there before moving further into the cave and finding the other cities that today they know as Snowdin, Waterfalls, Hotland and New Home.

He had watched from the balcony that the city of Old Home stretched beyond what he had ever thought or stopped to look at. There were few monsters that from time to time walked the streets doing their daily lives, but they were enough to keep the city inhabited and sustained. Too bad he didn't have a chance to visit it and see it up close... Until today.

He searched the closet for something to wear. He hadn't changed his pajamas since he had awakened, and although he was very comfortable he admitted that it was a bad habit as a result of not leaving the house every day.

His sweater had gotten dirty the day before after getting too close to an old fountain in the ruins and falling inside. How was he to know there was mud at the bottom of the pond? The water was crystal clear, but the darkness in the corner prevented him from seeing all the details. But he wasn't that clumsy, he was sure Flowey had pushed him! Damn impatient flower. He knew how boring it was to wait for the flower to finally deign to move things forward, but he'd already warned Flowey that he didn't want to be pressured. Frisk would decide when to do it, he would not stay in the ruins forever.

He was lucky that there was some clothing of his size that Toriel could lend him. Could it be that it belonged to Prince Asriel? That made him feel a bit guilty wearing the clothes of Toriel's dead son, but since there was nothing else… There wasn't much left to choose from.

Frisk took out some things and put them on his bed so he could choose better. He knew it was just a grocery shopping outlet, but he didn't want the monsters to think that Toriel was raising a lazy person either. Never! There were many things, generally striped shirts that almost always shared the same color range. Was it customary for children in the basement to wear stripes? Monster Kid mentioned it high above, but he wasn't sure. Perhaps this was a signal for him to begin to investigate a little more in depth about monster culture.

Going back to his clothes… Nothing convinced him at all. And that he was not demanding, he alone believed that yellow and green did not suit him very well.

He looked among the things that were hanging on the hangers, there were very warm coats, hats, scarves and... An elegant tuxedo with a tie and everything. That made him smile a bit. Even in this underground life did the royal family have events where they wore elegant clothes?

His gaze then hit something he hadn't noticed so far, an immaculately white sleeveless gown hung between two coats, hidden between the two. Frisk took it off the hook curiously and leaned it against his chest to check that it was for someone small like him and yes, it was.

Why would Prince Asriel have one of these? Maybe it was a mistake. The adults were very explicit with their instructions "boys don’t wear skirts."

He himself had learned the hard way, with punishment and humiliation that it was not appropriate, no matter how much it hurt.

"Those aren’t Asriel's clothes… But mine.”

Frisk left his thoughts for a moment to turn to his ghostly companion, who crossed their arms and with a skeptical look just floated beside him.

"Asriel's clothes stayed in New Home, I think... Mom took my things with her when she fled to the ruins."

"Oh… Then it's yours."

“Yes.” They confirmed it again, now floating on their back and with their arms crossed behind their neck, giving him a look of displeasure but at the same time disinterest. “I wasn't in my plans to donate my clothes to a brat like you, but since it's not very useful to me… You can have it.”

“Cool! Thanks, Chara.” He thanked them with a smile. Chara might be a bit surprised that he had these courtesy details, but despite the fact that the human repeated that their reason for being there was to make life a mess... He couldn't help but think that being close to them was pleasant. Chara wasn't such bad company, at least not when they was trying to make him feel bad.

Frisk was about to put the dress in the closet, but then he realized something else. If it was Chara's clothes… Why would they have a dress and a tuxedo?

He unhooked this one, too, and spread both sets on the bed, set apart from the rest of the folded clothing he'd pulled out to choose from.

Maybe… The monsters didn't find these things strange either. Could that be it? His hand went to the white dress, he took it, took it with him to the mirror in the room and placed it in front of his chest to have a visualization of how he would fit it. The last time he had used something like this was when he and his best friend Emma exchanged the school uniform secretly from others, it was when after her departure she gave him said uniform to remember her, when the director of the orphanage found him wearing it, when he lost the last gift from the first girl he had ever loved, when...

When he started wondering what was wrong with him. He never hurt anyone when he wore those clothes, did he? Was Emma thinking the same thing too?

"Are you ready, dear?"

Frisk turned, surprised to find Toriel inside the room, already dressed to leave it and staring him with a calm smile. He couldn't help but start to shake and gasp when the goat's eyes focused on the dress, reflexively hiding it behind his back. She was confused.

Frisk couldn't even look into her eyes, he was terrified to do it and find himself with a disappointed or disgusted expression. It was something he had gotten used to enough by now, it was always a reason for the foster homes to decide that he was not the type of child they wanted to adopt.

"E-Eh… I just… I was just looking at what to wear and…"

He stopped abruptly when Toriel crouched down next to him and bringing one of her hands to his chin made him lift his head. She didn't look upset, she had the same peaceful glow in her gaze and that warm smile that she had seen the first day.

"Do you want to wear that dress, honey?" Frisk didn't come out of his bewilderment, but he nodded softly as Toriel got up and went to the door. "Okay, I'll be back, I'll look at for something."

Without further ado, she left the room, Frisk managed to look at Chara, who for the first time seemed to see him with some compassion, perhaps because they understood what he was feeling in those moments.

"You heard mom, don't keep her waiting."

Silently and with some anxiety, Frisk made the change of clothes. His dress was of a very soft fabric and the skirt reached below the knees. Apparently Toriel glued washes to his clothes so it wouldn't get smelling of dust and damp, because now he could smell the fragrance of laundry soap on it.

The only problem he had with this was the zipper in the back, it was difficult to make it go up without it locking in the middle of his back.

"Oh, let me help you with that, dear."

Frisk hadn't noticed that Toriel had returned, but he said nothing and allowed her to help him by zipping up.

“Don't worry, the truth is that it has always caused problems, so most of the time I had to do it.”

He assumed that she was referring to Chara indirectly, and confirmed it just by seeing the half smile that the aforementioned was trying to hide. With the dress already on, Frisk stopped to observe himself at ease in front of the mirror. He didn't look bad at all, he liked it.

Toriel touched his shoulder and offered him something. It was a country hat with a white ribbon around it and some fake flowers of the same color adorning it. Did she go looking for that for him? He didn't ask questions, he just accepted it and settled it on his head. It seemed that both things were made to go together.

"There is no sun to watch out for, but I thought you'd like it.”

Frisk looked back at his reflection and felt fear leave him suddenly. A smile crossed his face and he moved to the side for a twist that made the skirt of the dress move in the air. Toriel gave a light laugh when she saw him wearing that garment so happily.

“I look good?” He asked, doing a couple of poses that would make his mother laugh because of how exaggerated they were, but that made him feel looser from the tension of a while ago. He didn't perceive that this was a forced reaction from Toriel, she looked genuinely pleased about it. It was as if the laws of the surface didn't matter to her… Because they were underground now.

"You look gorgeous, my dear. You're a very handsome boy!"

Frisk broadened his smile for Toriel and didn't fight the urge to hug her skirt with all his might, hoping that maybe she could feel his gratitude in that little gesture. She accepted him instantly, wrapping her warm arms around him lovingly. Frisk wish she didn't notice the pair of tears of relief that stained a tiny space of her garment and then wet her snout when she gave him a pair of kisses near his eyes.

“Thanks… Mom.”

Toriel tightened the hug a little more but without hurting Frisk. He melted her heart whenever he called her that way. "You’re welcome, my little boy. If you are ready we can go now.”

When they parted, they both left the room on their way to the city of Home.

"Or dear... There are many things missing at home and I had barely noticed today. I think we will also buy you school supplies so that you can start classes at home. Better hurry up or it will get very dark by the time we're done.”

“Okay, mom.”

"I have to get you notebooks… One for each subject. I don't want you to be disorganized!"

Frisk nodded as she continued speaking. For Toriel it was already a reflection of her holding his hand every time they went out together and it didn't bother him at all.

He tightened his grip on her hand to keep her in step. She was so big that on occasion he was forced to be faster or take longer steps, this was one of those times. His heart had stopped weighing him down, replacing that suffocating sensation with freedom, feeling light with the air moving his skirt and the end of the hat's bow brushing against his shoulder every time he took a step.

He was happy.

Although something was still bothering him.

                                                                  . . .

The departure proceeded normally. Frisk and Toriel toured the city buying the groceries that were needed at home. It was not very different from the surface, there were supermarkets with electrical appliances, small shops, stalls to sell fast food, etc. They spent two hours shopping for everything on the list until they filled the bags, which Toriel could carry perfectly on her own and without any effort. Frisk wanted to help her by carrying one of hers, but this was already heavy enough that he could afford to carry one more.

They also went to buy supplies and notebooks as she said. In the old human school he could not afford to use many things because according to the director of the orphanage "it were unnecessary and a silly waste of money", which he understood perfectly, although he came to disappoint him a bit. He did not want to make Toriel spend a lot, however, he didn’t need to ask for anything, since she decided that she needed to buy him colors of all the materials available and to have (paint, watercolors, crayons, chalks, pencils, markers...) because she was afraid he would get bored at home and not have something to draw with.

They both had a good time. They talked about some things, Toriel bought him an ice cream, they decided what they would have for dinner at night, even some monsters greeted Toriel with respect —long ago he would not have understood why but now he knew it was because they remembered her as the former queen of the underground— and monster commented to her more than once that he was adorable. Toriel almost always replied "I know, isn't he a very cute boy?"

He didn't want to sound ungrateful at all, but… Something didn't feel right when he heard her say that. It was not for the compliment, throughout his life he was lucky if some adult remarked something positive about him, especially his appearance. Why now that someone did it, did he continue to feel dissatisfied? It wasn't for the compliment itself, of course not. There were times when Toriel said things like that, but... Something was left over, or maybe something was missing.

When they returned, he helped her organize the shopping and they continued with the routine. It was a bit late to leave so the rest of the duties were left to Toriel for the next day. She insisted that she go alone to recalibrate the puzzles in the ruins, but he wanted to accompany her.

It was no use being persistent because she was able to convince him to stay. She told him that she needed him to stay, as if he bathed in what she did her work then the two of them would have enough time to get ready to go out to dinner at night. It was too tempting an offer not to accept. When had he dined at a restaurant in Home? Never. Maybe at the Mettaton hotel, but he didn't count it as dinner. Sans hadn't even invited him anything!

Frisk accepted instantly, Toriel hadn't been long anyway because she was back in time to help him dry his hair. Apparently she wanted to help him get ready to go out.

For his part, it didn't bother him at all. Toriel had sat with him on the bed to brush his hair, and he was sure that she knew that it was not necessary for him to do it because he rarely ruffled, however Frisk didn’t complain, there was nothing to reproach her. Maybe she just wanted to cuddle him for a while and that's it. Would Frisk make a fuss just for that? Nah!

His mother hummed very softly as she continued her attentions. Her hands were gentle and soft, as if she were afraid to pull his hair by accident. That treatment in conjunction with her voice was the perfect recipe to relax him. If it weren't that dinner was still on the agenda, he would have already fallen asleep.

Frisk remembered again now how lucky he was to have Toriel close, but... Since yesterday he kept thinking about the same thing that had been bothering him forever, but that after yesterday became more evident. He reproached himself for letting such stupidity prevent him from enjoying his mother's affection to the fullest, but… Maybe it wasn't stupid after all.

It made him angry that he didn't understand what was tormenting him. For a boy it should be easy to rate feelings, only he was already pre-adolescent, he wasn't sure if he could continue to call himself a “boy” any longer.

What was this? Why did he feel as if something was missing? Why did he feel wrong? Every time someone made it clear that he was a boy, every time he think about himself with “he” something felt wrong. At first he thought it was due to those prohibitions that humans instilled in him just because of that, because he was a child, but even now that with Toriel he felt free of those restrictions... It was still the same.

"What’s the matter, my dear?"

His mother's voice snapped him out of his musings suddenly, but he struggled to sound like nothing was wrong. "Nothing, just... I was thinking."

“I see.” She said, always parsimonious about everything. “About what? It must be something important for you to be this overwhelmed.”

Frisk was surprised at how quickly Toriel came to that conclusion. It was his mistake to underestimate a mother's suspicion and now he was paying for it, feeling nervous that he didn't know how to explain himself.

"Nothing, it's... It's silly."

"Nothing that worries you is foolish, my dear boy. Your feelings will always be important, and sometimes to deal with it you have to know what causes that feeling.” She explained, putting the brush aside so she could better focus on it. "Talking about how you feel is sometimes helpful."

Frisk lowered his gaze not knowing what to answer her. If anything had remained in him from the adults who had cared for him, it was that those his age used to worry about nonsense, things that don’t deserve to be heard, something that would disappear under the rug. “You have no reason to feel like this. It's not important. People around the world are suffering more than you and you cry for a nonsense!” or “Boys don't cry. Stop being so girly! ” was a common sight around him. Why he would talk about what was bothering him then? Why he would bother trying to express himself? The world had taken it upon himself to let him know that it didn't matter at all, that by drowning in grief he would learn a thing or two that would serve him well in the future.

And now… It was shocking that Toriel told him that after all, if something distressed him, it wasn’t a foolish at all.

"I won't force you to tell me anything if you're not comfortable with it, Frisk. But I want you to know that if something bothers you… You can tell me, I will not judge you and I will listen to you.”

Frisk looked in front of him. In the midst of his hesitation to choose what to wear for dinner he had left the dress on the bed next to Chara's tuxedo he had found the day before. He knew that he had to choose one of the two, and not that he bothered to use one of them, but... Thinking about it too much gave him a different meaning to things.

He wanted to tell Toriel everything he was thinking, but his mind was a mess. He didn't know where to start, he didn't even understand what was happening to him! How was he going to put into words something he didn't know? It was so frustrating! Now that he was given the freedom to speak he didn't know what to say.

"I just… I don't know why sometimes… I don't know, I feel like there's something wrong with me."

Hearing his words, Toriel decided to move beside him to speak comfortably. She didn't say anything, she was still silent to give him permission to speak.

"It's like I don't belong anywhere, like I don't... Like I don't fit in. You know what I mean?"

"Uhm… I think so."

Frisk decided to continue, he knew that Toriel still did not understand where he wanted to go, even he did not know!

"It's just that... People always say you were born to be something, but... What if I don't like that something? Where I should go? Because they say that there are only two paths and nothing else, but... I don't want to choose any. I don't want the path I'm supposed to go and I don't want the second one either. They say "you are this or that" but... I think then I am nothing.”

They were both silent and he was beginning to regret having spoken. His mother surely didn’t understand what he was talking about. Frisk sighed in the midst of his frustration with a lump in his throat, he didn’t want to cry, however he could not continue with that tightness in his chest.

Frisk didn't know how far Toriel's tolerance went. What would happen if this completely exceeded it? He had to fix it but in that moment.

“I’m so sorry. I know you have treated me very well and I like it when you flatter me, but I...”

"You don't like it when I refer to you as a boy, do you?"

Frisk looked up at Toriel, still impressed at how easy it was for her to sink into his dilemma as if it were an everyday thing for her. It was just like when she found him admiring that beautiful dress, the way she looked at him hadn't changed at all.

He couldn't understand it. Why was this all right for Toriel? Why wasn't she like other human adults? Why wasn't anyone there that way? Is it that perhaps he had missed something? Why did he end up getting a caress every time he expected a slap? He couldn't find a way out of his own overwhelm and Toriel kept talking calmly, as if she had all the time in the world.

"Frisk, it's okay if you feel that way. Look, I notice how you react to everything and… I don't know how humans deal with these things, but if you think it seems strange or something bad… It doesn't.”

She paused, stroking his hair and then she got off the bed taking the dress and tuxedo. She looked at both garments for a moment and held them up in each hand.

“If you want to choose one that's fine, if you go for a different option that's fine too, if you choose both it's fine, and if you're not ready to choose something that's fine too. It's like when I want to choose cinnamon or butterscotch, I can't! So I create my own options.”

"B-But…" Frisk swallowed, hoping that would take away the lump in his throat and his confusion. "That's the problem. It's not that I'm choosing! It's not what I want, it's what I am What am I? I don't feel like I'm a girl either. So what am I? I don't have a third option.”

Toriel raised an eyebrow, perhaps as if surprised that he said that. "Uhm… Do you know what non-binary gender is, Frisk?"

He cocked his head not knowing what she was talking about, and knew that Toriel noticed because she smiled like when he was going to her with childish doubts.

“There are people who, like you, don’t see themselves as women or men, but as something different. They are not both and it is not that they are nothing, they are only on a third path among the others.” She explained patiently and put the clothes she had taken back on the bed. Frisk was watching her intently, still unable to process that there was an answer to his question. “There's nothing wrong with not being what others expect of you just because of how you look or how you are… Even for the way you were born.”

"But what about you?" He blurted out. That question had come to his mind a second ago and he felt that he would die if he didn't get an answer now. He felt very stupid saying it so suddenly, almost interrupting Toriel, but he couldn't help himself. “What do you think about it?”

"It doesn't matter what I want or think, Frisk. It is your happiness and your way of perceiving yourself. Nothing else matters than your own happiness. How you identify yourself or who you love you should know that everyone should respect it, and never apologize for being like that.”

She declared, and then moved to the basket of clean clothes she had brought with her when she came into the room. Frisk stifled a sigh when she returned to his hands the striped sweater that he had soiled days ago, and that he had missed even though he liked to change his style of dress.

"It doesn’t matter if you are a boy, a girl, or something else… You are still Frisk. That won’t change.”

An involuntary reflex made Frisk hug his sweater, and so he stayed, silent and lost in his own mind as he processed everything Toriel had said to him in his rhythm. So much information had left him somewhat perplexed, more than anything because he did not imagine that there was an option that would leave him satisfied.

"You don't have to know it now, you can keep thinking about it and take your time. I just want you to know that if it bothers you that I refer to you as a boy then I won't. And if you want me to call you by "they/them" instead of calling you by "he/him" like I did when we just met, I'll do it.”

Frisk muttered with his… No, their face still half buried in the sweater. They had a hard time letting the words come out.

“I… I think I like this third way and… “they” would be fine.”

Without having to say more, Toriel sat back on the bed with a satisfied smile. Frisk was still dizzy and dazed, not sure what to say or how to react, they could only respond to their own impulses when the woman touched their shoulder and immediately threw themself into her arms like a small child and began to cry. Toriel sighed, holding her child in a strong, protective hug, letting their crying stop on its own.

Frisk didn't know. Was they crying out of sadness because no one told them this before? Was the rage at this anguish that they carried with for years? Yes, it was all that, but it was also a cry of relief. Now they knew that they were not weird, that there was nothing wrong with them, that there were people just like them who knew how they was feeling including Chara themself.

Frisk knew then that they did have a place to belong.

They let all their tears release them from that stormy regret and let the goat's maternal affection slowly bring them back to reality, ending up warmly cradled in her embrace. They finally found the missing piece.

"I... Uh... Jeez.” They laughed through tears, still not letting go. “You must believe that so much drama just because of this gender stuff is silly.”

"I don't think gender identity discovery is silly. Maybe you don’t understand why it is so important to know it, but... I think it is difficult to judge when you don’t feel the pain in the hearts of others, much more when I know that you don’t come from this world.”

Frisk nodded with a sigh and finally pulled away from Toriel as she wiped their tears away.

"So… You know what you want to wear to dinner, my child?"

"I want to wear my sweater."

[whereflowersbloom]

Questions

Damian found his girlfriend standing out on the lovely vine-shaded balcony, dressed in civilian clothes and staring out into the city. Night turned Gotham into an endless sea of luminescence. Skyscrapers around the city glow with the light of thousands of residents inside, creating trails of brilliance that ascend up towards the starry sky. It is quite beautiful, in its own way. The soft evening breeze caressing her ebony hair, creating wafts of lavender and rosemary in the air. Had she always been this breathtakingly beautiful? Slowly, Damian set his gaze towards the stars above. The precision that Raven studied the sky with passion, it fascinated him. It was as if she was reading lines from a story book, but instead there was a mass of speckled lights as she was connecting them, tracing invisible lines.

Raven took a deep breath of fresh night air and sighed, a mix of contentment, and something else, she couldn’t point it. “Have you ever considered what your life would be like If you had taken a different path?” Her breath hitched on the last word but her eyes had glance sideway to his large calloused hand still in hers, for someone who appeared to be controlling and unapproachable, Damian was surprisingly gentle and affectionate. The question caught him off guard. He felt a bubble of longing as he remembered her words that night at the carnival when she had called him kind and generous, nobody had ever spoken that way about him. That night something inside him changed, high and fenced walls began to crumble down.

Soaking in the view a little longer, Damian waited a few minutes before deciding to speak. He supposed that the saying that one’s life flashes before their eyes must hold some kind of truth, though he was not dying, and yet he had been dangerously close to the gates of death several times. Raven was his anchor amidst the unpredictability of their life as titans, always bringing him back from the turbulent waters. He couldn’t stop himself from recalling the most memorable moments of his unusual and complex life. He exhaled a long audible breath as he begins.” My life had been long decided before I was born into this world.” He murmured to the whistling wind, his words sounding faraway, even to his own ears. He would rather not relive any of the horrors he’d seen, the terrible acts he had committed in order to build a new world, make it better. What a blind and naive child he had been. At some point he had been ready to surrender his sword, his Robin suit, his claim to fight for others, offer her perhaps a normal life if that’s what she wished for. He would give her anything she asked for in a heartbeat. He squeezed her small hand tighter, Raven immediately noticed way he’s gripping onto it, like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. “After some time coming to the tower, I contemplated a rather uneventful, ordinary life. If my parents had conceived me under very different circumstances. If mother loved me more than her own insatiable ambitions. If father wasn’t the eccentric, mysterious millionaire Bruce Wayne or a vigilante consumed by his thirst to serve justice.” There was a tone of melancholy in his voice, the promise of a different retelling of a story. His story. “It wasn’t all bad. Mother…she used to read to me, every one now and then, nights like these. Tales about the greatest leaders in history, others about the origin of the Al Ghul dynasty. I treasured those moments.” He looked over at her, and he didn’t seem to recognize her for a moment, like the memory had been so strong it had actually confused him, taking him back to that instant. This was the most he’d ever really said about his mother. His past as an Al Ghul. Sure he’d shared some stories, about certain things he enjoyed and disliked. But he never spoke about Talia with such profound emotions. This was personal and precious to Damian. It saddened her. Saddened for the pain in his emerald eyes that he was trying to hide. Another long breath was blown between his full lips, and he deflated again, like he was accepting the undeniable truth. “Perhaps I would have met Jon at a local school and we would play basketball after classes and Greyson would be the team’s coach. Maybe we would have crossed paths at the extensive and valuable Gotham Public Library. I would have offered to treat you a cup of Earl Grey tea. A part of me believed I’d have picked Veterinary medicine as my bachelor degree.”

She looked at him with such intensity and Damian thought her violet eyes grew deeper, darker, more reflective. She was weighing her own reflection in his eyes, trying to see through him like she always did. And they both were visualizing, a different life consisting of trivialities, a simple lifestyle, maybe in the countryside, a rather nice and quiet house, perhaps similar to the Kent farm with some slight but substantial improvements. “What about you?” He abruptly asked her, startling her. Oh she had never been sure about her own future. “As the daughter of an inter-dimensional demon. I didn’t think a future was possible for me. A happy family, a stable romantic relationship, loyal friends. Everything was endless blackness when I was trapped by Trigon. What I have right now is more any blissful future I could have imagined.” She muttered softly. This companionship between them, the mutual care, the tender loving, the sense of equality between them, the feeling of belonging to each other beyond any outer interference because they chose one another. Their family and friends. Everything was more than enough. Damian was unconsciously too absorbed at how she looked at the whole world as one precious thing, values life in every form and shape. Her unnatural powers gave her the ability to look into something and see what others can’t. It was fascinating. He was thankful too, sincerely appreciated what he had. His father, troublesome siblings adoptive or not, his teammates and Raven. He is product of the flames which burnt him, his actions, his choices and the will that made him grow formidable instead of breaking. They both were. This woman was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his human days with.

“There’s something that wouldn’t change. You. It’s always been you, Raven.” He’s got a dazed look in his eyes, a familiar bright gleam to them that hadn’t been there earlier, but he flashed her a dazzling smile at her, one that make her insides jump. Raven let his words sink in. He wanted her even if things were different and joy seeped through her whole body.

She just felt greedily wanting more time with him, every moment and experience. She loved him, from the possessive way he held her or how he kept on touching her the instant they are alone and he felt he same. They have been together for a few years now, it took them some time to announce it to their significant others. No matter how things turned out, they have this genuine, real and consuming love. That emotion when you felt like your lungs are out of air when your lover is away from you, everything was so intense and yet so tender, you were worried it would break between your fingers like crusty autumn leaves. She focused on him.

Damian looked out of his depths. He’d always been so controlled and measured, knew the weight of his every word and was completely unflappable despite whatever life threw at him, but now he didn’t. He seemed as if he was nervous, unable to spell out his own feelings. Hesitant. Could be her imagination but she sensed a slight agitation awakening in him.

“Marry me, Raven.” The words are said with his whole heart. They are genuine and honest and very him. He couldn’t hold back the words any longer. Why wait anyway? theres simply no time when you’re busy saving the world day-to-day. There’s no question to calculate when is the right right or your fated person, no formula for the correct time. Timing. There’s no use reminding about the past or the life they would have dreamed to have. The present was a gift and ultimately what matters the most. They have been romantically involved for 4 years now. He knew she was the one the moment he gathered courage to ask her out, court her properly the way he had been taught. Initially, he planned to propose differently but it felt right. This conversation only strengthened his resolve to make a Raven his wife.

“Damian.” She breathed with astonishment.

“No buts. Marry me.” He commanded with an eyebrows raised stopping her from coming up with an unnecessary excuse, content filling his veins and the marrow of his bones, flooding him with a blanket of warmth and hope. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He wanted her, now and tomorrow and the rest of his existence, and she loves him. Like he knew she’s always had her doubts on if she could be loved or she did before they started dating.

Her bottom lip trembled momentarily. She felt a bit like she can’t breathe properly, but then Damian is reaching up and gently cupping her cheek, and she exhaled shakily as he runs the pad of his thumb over her lips. He was looking at her dead serious, asking her to marry him. “I’m not taking the chance to wait too long.” Damian whispered urgently. His tone more serious than before. Her heart was hammering in her chest. They moved in together about a year ago. Were they ready to take the next step?

It felt too real all of a sudden. Too damn real, and she wants to drown in it this moment, in this bottomless sea of feelings for him. She wanted to pretend that this is real and more than that, she wanted to say yes. Damian Wayne didn’t take a no for an answer. When he was determined, he did everything posssihke to get it, one way or another. And she loves him nonetheless. Raven felt her heart flutter, her chest tightened ever so slightly as she finally exhaled. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Damian.”

“I love you.” Her voice breaking as tears are rolling down her cheeks and the small smile on her lips. It was easy to find herself gravitating toward Damian, falling back into that wordless sync they had. To feel herself being pulled into his personal space as he crowded hers. Until they faced each other with barely inches between them and her breath hitched as he snaked his arms around her, emerald eyes softened, glowing against the moonlight, they didn’t leave her, and his arms made the distance between them disappear. Their lips are barely touching but he can feel the softness, the plumpness of her mouth, like an overripe fruit. She brushes her lips against his and Damian rapidly kissed her fervently. His lips breathing silent ‘I love you’s. The low giggle that rumbled up through her could not be contained though she tried. She knew several language but no words could describe this ecstatic happiness.

Damian is overwhelmed by the sweet taste, the delicious scent, the warm feel of her. He was intoxicated and drunk off their hungry kiss. He trailed his hand on her waist up her back and feels her heart hammering against her ribs and wonders for a moment if she’s feeling as consumed by the kiss as he is. If she is as incredibly happy as he is right in this moment. He didn’t need a different life, this one was exactly what he wished for.

Damian made a mental note to ask Jon to accompany him ring shopping tomorrow. Tonight he had plans to celebrate his engagement with his gorgeous fiancée.

His lips brushed hers in a soft, tender rhythm once again. Once. Twice. Thrice. Harder, and a little bit hungrier than before, until her fingers are intertwined in his hair and his solid body is pressing against her frame. He lifted her up effortlessly, taking a few steps back, taking her back to their bedroom. Two figures bathed in tranquil starlight disappeared.

Oneshot because I need fluff. Final edit

Thank you to @chromium7sky @ravenfan1242 @deep-in-mind67 and all my readers for motivating me to write. This might be the last chapter for a while. 💜💜