#i’m probably forgetting some other aus blue moon knows

[digimonlover09]

Who would be unsettled by the fact that Blue Moons Halloween prop that they turned into a plushie, sometimes moves and stares directly at you. It still moves like a puppet. Just without Blue Moon's magic doing so.

All my Eclipses and lunar-models. They’re all scared of mannequins and puppets, and all of them hate the moving plushie that stares into your soul

[panxramic]

A little excerpt from my Sundrop and Moondrop AU :)

-

Chayanne and Tallulah

-

When Tallulah wakes up it is late at night and Chayanne is gone. Her face feels icky from all the crying and the last thing she wants to do is get out of bed. She looks over to Chayanne’s side of the room and finds his bed empty, which is odd at this late at night. The moon is just above their window shining a light glow into their room. Everything feels cold tonight, more so than usual.

Sometimes it feels like the world is laughing at Tallulah, seeing what it can take from her next. She’s young still, and it feels like people keep coming in and out of her life more often than she can remember. She’s been abandoned again and again, left to rot alone in countless orphanages and attics. No matter what she does, or how nice she acts, no one stays. Soon everyone gets tired of her, they send her to the next home or throw her out into the streets to die. It was a miracle the emperors wanted her.

Tallulah was found one breath away from death. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers a man with blonde hair and giant wings holding her. She remembers a long journey in which she spent the majority of the time sleeping. She also remembers a little boy with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He wouldn’t leave her side, even took it upon himself to hold her throughout the journey. But the one thing she will never forget is his eyes.

When Tallulah first met Chayanne she swears his eyes glowed. They called to her, mesmerized her in a way nothing else ever has. She was only 6 when she met him. Phil and Missa say that for the longest time, they couldn’t get her to stop crying, but Chayanne could, he always could. Tallulah distinctly remembers it was the eyes, something about them calmed her down.

She thinks maybe it was her just imagining things, maybe some trick of the light. Either way, bright blue eyes or not, Chayanne’s ability to calm her down has remained. Through every nightmare and bad dream, he’s always been there. Every scrap and every bruise. Even when she’s gotten into trouble and grounded, Chayanne would always be the one to sneak her in cookies or treats she was banned from having.

He knows her, knows her better than anyone else ever has. And just as he knows her, she knows him too.

Cautiously she makes her way out of their chambers. This part of the castle seems quiet tonight, even with the extra guards she can see down the hall. No one else seems to be asleep, probably trying to figure out where apa Missa went. Quietly she sneaks down the hall and around the corner to the doors of her parent's bedroom. She opens the doors and surely enough, there is Chayanne.

He is wrapped up in the blankets, lying on apa Missa’s side of the bed. She makes her way around to his side, closer, she can see him clutching tightly onto his duck plushie.

The moon's light is perfectly situated on his face. Tallulah swears she can see bright yellow and blue specks in his eyes. But under the light, she can also see faint marks of dry tears down his cheeks. She feels her heart shatter.

Tallulah thinks the world has been incredibly unfair to her. Time and time again she’s been abandoned, left to rot by her parents who believed her to be a curse. She believed she could be happy here, she believed she had parents that would stay. But the world was unkind and decided to take one of them away from her. And yet through it all, there’s been one person who has stuck by her side, one person who hasn’t left her. For the first time, Tallulah has someone to cry with. She has someone to hold her and dry her tears. It hurts, but at least she’s not alone.

Tallulah makes her way around the bed onto papa Phil’s side. He must still be awake, trying to find out what happened to his husband, her other dad. She climbs into the blanket and gives Chayanne a tight squeeze.

Into the moonlight, she whispers, “I’m here for you too.”

[thelavendercatalogue]

Hmm. Haven’t heard from Goemon for a while in this AU. I’m not sure what he’s been up to. Has he touched bases with everyone since Bad Times started?

Oh that poor bastard has not been having a good time for all the wrong reasons. Or right reasons if you just so happen to think about it

The real reason Goemon hasn't really shown up in this AU is. . .well. . .to be honest. I really don't know how to write him properly. Ive always struggled with everyone's favorite mostly emotionally constipated samurai.

But besides that there IS a good reason as to why he does not show up often in the AU.

You can actually blame Jigen for it.

You see I'm very choosy about what parts of the show i wanna make canon in this AU. And while I still don't know how much of PT5 I actually do wanna make canon in this, there is one major event that has always caught my eye. And I think we all know what part that is.

This part had gotten me thinking. My AU doesn't happen that long after part 6, which in turn I always Headcanoned never took that long after part 5, about a year or so give or take.

Now the reason Jigen has a lot to do with Goemon not being in LJS or at least the first half of LJS is due to him being exceedingly paranoid

You see, Lupin has already forgiven him for what Goemon has done. I don't necessarily think that Lupin is one to hold a Long Standing grudge.

But here's the thing.

While Lupin might have forgiven Goemon however Goemon hasn't forgiven himself all that fully

But imagine if someone else wasn’t that quick to do so

that someone being Jigen

Jigen doesn't forgive very easily

there's still a hesitancy.

I dunno the year difference between PT4/5 and ljs. But Jigen still being jumpy is sad to think about Like he’s not out rightly hostile toward Goemon. But you can tell somethings off.

Which is sad because Jigen knows Lupin would want him to forgive him, but he just cant do that.

But the reason Jigen is so hesitant to allow Goemon the right to be forgiven is because he's known Goe for a while at this point. The betrayal would probably be so way out of left field for him, that it'd be reasonable to assume that he'd originally thought that goemon had moved on from the whole 'wanting to defeat lupin in combat' thing at this point in the game. And then bam, you have Goemon's attempt on Lupins life, which whether he meant too or not, is a still a big deal, considering that no matter what NO ONE in the group has tried to actually hurt each other outside of friendly banter/ well thought out plans

Then that comes that throws it all out of whack

As a result, remnants of the results of that “betrayal” still make their presence known once in a blue moon despite Lupin's attempts to calm Jigen down enough to trust Goe again. But Lupin knows how Jigen is, Jigen doesn't forget that easily nor does he forgive that easily. Jigen still gets twitchy when Goemon makes an odd move towards him. And because of what has happened to Lupin in LJS PT1, the twitchness is full throttle because now Lupin is vulnerable and it's Jigens job to protect him and look out for him against anything Jigen percieves as a threat.

But because Lupin wants Jigen to just forgive him, instead of just casting Goemon to the side, Jigen does something else in an attempt to show he does trust Goemon despite his apprehensions, not for Goemon's sake but for Lupin's alone

By putting him in charge of being his sister Maddies "bodyguard" In a way doing this has a double reason. It keeps Goemon far from Lupin which gives Jigen some peace of mind, but it also shows Goemon that, while he still shows apprehension towards him, that Jigen still trusts Goemon to some extent to guard something precious to him and not throw him away when Lupin isnt in the right mind to object to it.

As a interesting biproduct of this arrangement, Maddie and Goemon grow close because of it. They become friends. Maddie likes Goemon and ends up saying a lot of good things about him to jigen, which would probably improve their relationship too (goe and jigen's, that is)

[swinterr]

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct 

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

-  sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

-  jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil | 

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f 

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

-  jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a 

-  you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

-  asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f 

-  on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

-  you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s 

-  jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

-  doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f 

-  a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

-  in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage. 

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s 

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

-  after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s 

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

-  you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s 

-  a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

-  you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s 

-  you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a 

-  you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f 

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

-  prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

-  haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him.  when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties. 

clingy by @love-mi | f 

-  I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f 

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s 

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie  | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking  to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f 

-  pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

-  tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s 

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

-  like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s 

-  jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

-  after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

-  maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

-  jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s 

-  in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

-  established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

-  sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

-  sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

-  paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f 

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple. 

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s 

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

-  fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s 

-  “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he���d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

lover boy by @jingukk | f 

-  jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

-  you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

-  jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s 

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f 

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

-  jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

-  an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f 

-  decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff. 

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

-  “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[sleepypaladiknight]

OK FIC IDEA:

that one au where you can hear your soulmate singing out loud in your head- but leopika

leorio wasn’t much of a singer as a child- the impoverished corner of the world he lived in didn’t have much music to sing to, either. the closest he’s got were the staticky, muffled and clipped tunes that rattled out of the neighbor’s radio. that’s why he’s always preferred listening- listening to his soulmate’s songs.

it was in a language he didn’t understand, but it was the clearest, sweetest music he’s ever heard. he memorized those humble tunes and lullabies, tracing the foreign syllables over and over with his tongue and humming the melodies nobody but him and his soulmate knew. he carved his soulmate’s voice into his mind, bragging to Pietro about his melodic partner and how he couldn’t wait to meet him.

then one day they stopped.

he found it coincidental- that it was on the same day Pietro passed away from illness. but it was fitting- it was a day where all the music and life left him.

as years went on his hopes of hearing his soulmate’s comforting tune dwindled away, but the music and the tunes he cherished so much as a boy remained, even as he learned new songs to sing to in the world around him. he’d sing out as loudly as he could, the raunchiest and most irritatingly popular songs he knew on some days, hoping offhandedly to lure the music from his partner again and hear that kind, soft voice just one more time. it never worked.

so, he swore to never sing that song, that one soft melody, until he heard it from his soulmate themself.

then he met kurapika. a guy who didn’t sing at all, and whose expression alone sang out his melancholies. his voice was prim and strict, the annoying, uppity kind that made Leorio’s blood boil, but it was familiar.

in the confines of trick tower, the topic began to stray.

“your soulmate must love your singing.” he teased.

the blond seemed to hesitate, and didn’t meet his eye. “i don’t care about soulmates.” kurapika’s voice sounded almost sad. “it would be for the better if mine never meets me at all.”

“yeesh, that’s real positive of you.”

“and what about you?” he said almost accusingly. “what do you think of your soulmate?”

“i don’t care about my soulmate, either,” he bit out, “but it’s for a good reason. mine stopped singing to me.”

“they must have their reasons.”

“which are probably as pompous and bratty as you!”

then they were back to their usual bickering. life went on, and his ambitions neared with every step of the journey he completed. their little group parted ways to chase after their own interests and dreams, and for around a year, leorio never saw one of them face to face.

then kurapika showed up on a cloudy evening, after billions and gazillions of ignored calls and texts left on delivered. they exchanged apologies and grievances and angers, embraced each other and shared glances that lasted a few seconds too long as they talked.

for some reason, kurapika had a strained look on his face when leorio began to sing the lyrics to some queen song. he wouldn’t even look at him, but leorio shrugged it off as usual angsty behavior.

they found themselves on the rickety balcony of leorio’s cheap apartment, looking out over the city.

“so, still given up on your soulmate?”

kurapika said nothing.

“well, me too, i guess.” he sighed out. “i lied to you- back at the exam when i told you i didn’t care about my soulmate. i,” he laughed, a bittersweet sound, “i actually cared a lot. it just felt easier to deny it. it’s... pretty damn hard facing the idea that maybe my soulmate really doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t want to meet me. maybe they’re gone. maybe they hate my voice or something- from what i remember, they were a hella good singer. nice, bright voice and everything. maybe they didn’t wanna end up with someone musically talentless like me. maybe that one time i sang ‘call me maybe’ in the shower was the last straw.”

and to his delight, it drew a soft chuckle from the blonde leaning against the railing next to him, arms brushing and shoulders touching. his hair looked like silver in the moonlight. still, kurapika didn’t reply.

so leorio forged on.

“i, uh, already told you my soulmate stopped singing. like, completely. but i still remember the songs they used to sing. they were a huge comfort to me when i was little, when things were hard and a little bit of song was something people couldn’t even afford. i didn’t even know what the words mean, still don’t, but all i know is that they meant the world to me.” leorio glanced at kurapika with a sheepish smile. “wanna hear? so maybe you can hunt down the bastard that left me hanging?”

“sure.” his voice was scratchy, almost pained.

and leorio began gently. kindly. he was sure his accent was off- it didn’t roll off his tongue as fluently as it did for his soulmate all those years ago. but the sounds and the tune was the same- the one that he’s devotedly committed to memory, the one that he hastily wrote down on a piece of binder paper as a reminder of the comfort his soulmate used to bring, the one that he swore to never forget- it was his soulmate’s last song.

when he tapered off into absentminded humming, he realized kurapika was crying. his eyes were blown wide, flecks of magenta shimmering across the deep, scarlet hue of his irises. tears rolled down his soft, pale cheeks, glinting like diamonds in the moon’s embrace, falling on a dampened shirt that clasped trembling shoulders. leorio felt clumsy and dumb, trying to soothe kurapika, asking him what was wrong, if he was okay- then kurapika began to choke out words, rubbing away at his eyes with his arms.

“how do you know that song.” it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“i already told you, my soul-“

“no. you don’t understand. it’s a very personal song. a traditional song.” kurapika teared up again, liquid sadness welling up in his eyes. “it’s a song- a lullaby- that i’ve forgotten for the longest time. it’s my mother’s.”

leorio gaped, “your mom was my soulmate?!”

“no, you idiot!” Kurapika couldn’t help but laugh through his tears, beating a fist against leorio’s chest. they burst into a fit of laughter, boisterously cackling in the silence of the night, overpowering the honking cars in the streets below and the sound of their worries adrift in their heads. nothing but them existed.

kurapika’s hand remained there, on leorio’s chest, starting to clench at the fabric of his dress shirt. they were silent, for seconds, minutes, maybe hours, until Leorio’s hand drifted up to meet it, brushing gently against the soft, scarred skin of Kurapika’s slender fingers.

“i’m sorry.” kurapika whispered softly, barely above his breath. “i wasn’t fair to you. you were always trying, always singing to me.”

leorio couldn’t speak.

“i’ve been hearing your voice for years now. you and your- your stupid songs-“ he laughed out, but it sounded more like a choked sob.

leorio couldn’t breathe.

“i didn’t mean to make you lose hope. but i was hoping you would, so you wouldn’t chase after someone like me.”

leorio couldn’t think.

kurapika was leaning closer, voice growing quieter and quieter until they had to be inches apart to hear, to exchange words.

“i couldn‘t bring myself to sing. i didn’t have a reason to, not anymore. not after what happened to my clan. i noticed you stopped singing for a time, too. but it only took months before you began again, gaining more momentum with every song. i envied you and your strength.”

kurapika had started to shake, small frame shuddering against leorio’s. without thinking, he brought his other hand up to thumb away a tear that had begun trickling down kurapika’s face.

“i wanted to sing to you too, but all the songs i wished to teach you had disappeared from my memory. i was so preoccupied with my goals, that i... i began to forget the things that mattered more. what the faces of my family and my old friends looked like. what the lukso sunlight felt like on my skin, or how the grass felt underneath my feet. what the croons of a happy piko bird sounded like, or how beautifully blue the sky was on a sunny day. what my mother’s voice sounded like, what the words to her songs were, i, i-” kurapika sobbed, “i betrayed myself and my entire clan. i thought i had truly lost them and the part of myself that i swore i wouldn’t let die.”

their foreheads fell together, touching reassuringly. kurapika’s eyes fluttered closed as he spoke, body rendered as fragile as his voice, his feelings, his heart. leorio held each with careful, treasuring hands.

”i’d become a monster. a stranger in the same body i walked my home with. i thought- i thought that my soulmate didn’t deserve someone like that. someone like me.” he heaved out, chest shuddering with every quiet breath, “you don’t deserve someone like me, and i could never-“

and leorio shut that bullshit up with his lips.

they slotted together perfectly. call him disgustingly cheesy, sappy, any romantically insulting insult you could throw- but it felt like harmony. it felt so beautiful, his emotions crescendoing and his heart thrumming mercilessly in his chest as it fitted against kurapika’s. those soft, slightly chapped lips, damp from the tears that had trickled past them, felt perfect on his, like his lips were made to meet them. and just as easily as he had lost the music and life all those years ago, it was returned to him, in the form of a blond, pressed up against him and demanding for more, more, more with his mouth, hands all over his shoulders, fingers tangled in hair, breathing in each other, kissing like it was the very last thing they could do.

when they parted, leorio let himself get intoxicated by the sound of kurapika’s panting, drunk on the soft sounds that spilled past his lips like music.

”cut- cut the crap,” he breathed out, pulling kurapika closer by the waist and burying his head in his head of gold. ”for the rest of my life, stop talking. and start singing.”

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

__

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

__

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

__

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

[computerram]

More dumping about Akira’s palace au, this time about Goro - where he’s been for like 5 years and what his role in all it is.

Building off the dummied out p5r scene, Goros probably spent most of his time in and out of the rehab center outside Tokyo and being fairly under the radar. Poor bastard probably didn’t even get a chance to do his college entrance exams or anything, he’s only made a very recent move back to Tokyo and its far less comfortable now he doesn’t have Celebrity/Hitman money and of course as soon as he does some Fuckshit starts happening

The same time as the PTs, Goro’s metaverse app comes back and Of Course he checks it out because That’s Obviously Suspicious

UNLIKE the PTs however he just... can’t help but find himself... being drawn to a certain.... blue door...... wow whoever could it be...........(it’s lavenza)

Lavenza’s having trouble reaching her trickster and fears he’s losing his way against this new adversity - why he already has a palace after all! - so of course she’s going to turn to the only other trickster she can get ahold of to guide his way, and offers him a temporary contract - he aids Joker, and she gives him access to her old ward’s Velvet Room

‘This is my fusion equipment’ ‘That’s an iron maiden’ ‘I don’t have my master’s guillotine I have to improvise’ ‘That’s not-’

She also explains that it’s very admirable of him he got as far as he did the first time round with no external guidance and even then managed to turn around and say ‘fuck you’ to Yaldabaths plan. He would have been a remarkable guest. Wait what do you mean you didn’t know about Yaldabaoth’s plan for you did he not tell you? Do you even know what a Velvet Room is-

That being said his social links were Awful. Except for one of course. You already know who I’m talking about. But any other bonds he may have had have definitely been broken by now.

Anyway armed with some new personas (as much as he can make with his Terrible Terrible Bond management) he heads into Akira’s palace and oh look who it is fancy meeting you guys here no I’m not a cognition put the gun down-

Now here’s where some fun stuff kicks in

Remember when I said Goro’s social links were Terrible? Well as part of his contract with Lavenza he’s gotta FUSE and to fuse good stuff you gotta KNOW people and when you know people you get BONDS oh we are gonna get Goro some FRIENDS, baby!!!

Also since it’s more fun this way: I think Goro’s SLink arcanas with the thieves should be different to Akira’s, since the arcana probably simply a reflection of how the holder sees that person/their relationship w/ the holder sooo with that in mind heres my Thoughts:

Lavenza - Judgement, Wheel of Fortune could also work, but boils down to how she’s the one who’s giving him a call to action

Sumire - Lovers and I KNOW what you’re thinking come back I’m going to explain the meaning of the Lovers arcana in more depth. Lovers' arcana is more symbolic of important choices + between two people is more about solidifying an union with someone you feel you can be honest with. Sumire’s probably the first person in the group Goro forms a bond with and I feel like the two can discuss how they both would have reservations about simply going in and changing Akira’s heart considering how much they both value free will and choice. There’s other things as well but that’d make this section way too long.

Futaba and Haru are very interesting to imagine links with considering their Very Valid reasoning for not wanting to be around Akechi. Haru I can definitely peg as Hanged Man, being stuck between her own personal feelings and how useful he is as a whole to the group, whereas Futaba would probably be more to do with her own anxieties about him being around, so perhaps Moon or Death if we wanna be cliche

Less concrete Reasoning but they have the Vibe: Ann - Temperance Ryuji - Sun, Yusuke - Magician, Makoto - Strength

Morgana - I’ll be honest with you homies I have No Idea what the dynamic between Morgana and Akechi would be compounded by the fact one of them is Litchrally a cat bro

For those curious, his other bonds (broken now) were probably Sae (Chariot) and Shido (Emperor). Even if the bonds themselves were lies or for ulterior motives, they were still Bonds you know

Oh how could I forget. His maxed out rank with Joker, the Justice arcana. Teehee it’s a narrative foil :3c

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 8 - Hypocrite

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot​ @suzy-rainbow​​

“Why did you come back?”

Jang Won’s consciousness had been flitting in and out of a state of being awake when Juyeon slides the door of her bathroom open, the rolling noises waking her up from her drowsy trance. 

“Sorry, just go back to sleep,” Rubbing his damp hair with a towel, the pajamas that Mr Ro managed to salvage from the Manor’s guest closet (that part of the closet used to belong to Younghoon) somehow fit him better than expected. “I know you had a long day, so.”

“It’s been a long day for the both of us so just shut up and get in bed,” Jang Won mumbles, loud enough for him to hear. Her back rests against the bolster placed in the middle of the bed, and a light clicks off somewhere in the room as Juyeon turns it off. The room was painted in a gentle mandarin shade from the nightstand lamp on his side; it reminds her of sunsets and fruit baskets. 

She feels the mattress on the extreme end sink as Juyeon shuffles in, then the room dims when he turns off the lamp on the nightstand. 

The distant chirps of crickets in the courtyard down below where the wedding was held manages to seep through the gaps of the balcony doors, and Jang Won could just barely make out the glowing ring of the moon if she pushed her head into the pillow a little more. 

“Jang Won.”

She sucks in a deep breath, eyes still fixated on the glow in the sky. “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Surprise. Chirp. Blink. 

“What for?”

“Calling you a hypocrite.”

Jang Won turns, and Juyeon turns as well, upon hearing the shuffling. His eyes are two orbs of glass from the bare illumination from outside.

“I... can never understand how much you’ve gone through, and so I have no reason to call you that, and I’m sorry.”

“Forget it-”

“No, please,” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice that keeps her from turning away. Chirp. “I said something I cannot take back and-”

“I know. And... I’m sorry you were dragged into this mess. I really am.”

“Fruits from the same tree,” He whispers, and Jang Won can hear his gentle scoff. “Look forward to our Guatemala honeymoon. I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”

“I haven’t heard someone make a promise to me in a long, long time.”

And even in the shitty lighting, Jang Won can make out the little smile he has on his face. 

“I’ll be the new standard. Trust me.”

“That’ll probably the first and last thing I’ll do.”

Juyeon quietly chuckles in the darkness.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

If Jang Won had a choice, she definitely would’ve had chosen another way to last remember her mother, even if it meant the same outcome. It had been any normal day for her - school at one of the most prestigious academies. At the time, Juyeon’s name had already been spread far and wide for being both a chaebol and somewhat of a likeable personality in school. Jang Won would know, since she’s spent countless of days listening to the likes of her friends swooning about Lee Juyeon from the Stanford Academy. 

On the days they were a little bolder, they’d ask Jang Won to strike up a conversation at one of the events The Board likes to organise. Of course, being the girl she is, she doesn’t care. 

“Sure,” She’ll always say, but empty-handed she’ll return to her friends. Jang Won would be lying if she said she didn’t gain some kind of sickening pleasure from seeing disappointment wash over their faces when all she did was basically nothing.

That should’ve been the prime thing about being 16. That should’ve been it. Teasing each other about boys, boys that she couldn’t care any less about. 

That really should have been it.

But the ghastly outline of her mother’s skull had been etched into her head as the days passed, and before she could realise it, Jang Won had lost all memory of how her mother used to be like; how she even looked like within the walls of The Kim Mansion. 

Her mother belonged within the cream, marble walls of the monument erected in the corner of street where the country’s tycoons all lived in. She belonged in the safety of a living hall with a rug made from bear fur and a fireplace keeping her and the cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table warm. 

Not here. Not letting the amber strips of light pasted into the ceiling shine through her paper-thin skin, as if Jang Won couldn’t already see the blue veins under her mother’s forehead. 

The first major thing that Jang Won would never forget was watching her older brother fight with her father. That was the one time she had seen Younghoon yell at Kim Jo-Pil, as if they weren’t related, as if Kim Jo-Pil wasn’t the adult in the room.

While Jang Won wished with all her heart that she could remain angry with what her brother said, she knew that it was the best choice. Her mother was on a ticking time-bomb anyway. It had been a matter of time before she took her last breath.

Yet, for some reason, it was the one time that she had seen Younghoon been so coldly caring, and her father so warmly unbothered. The scent of the expensive, first-class hospital ward is still stuck in her nose, and probably would for the next year or so. As she listened to her brother beg her father to let her mother go peacefully, without having to live through the pain, she let her tears stain the bedsheets by her mother’s hands. 

“Won-ie.”

Jang Won looks up upon the hoarse voice, eyes tearing when she can see how resigned her mother is. The fight is no longer glimmering in her eyes, because she knows she’s fighting a lost war. 

“After this, you’ll only have your brother left, and you must promise me you will do everything you can to protect him, like he will for you.”

Jang Won shakes her head, fingers interlocking with hers, and for a split second, she’s almost afraid she could tear her skin. “No. You’ll do that for me. I’m not old enough to take care of him.”

“You’re a smart girl, Won-ie,” She manages a grin, and it tears Jang Won apart to see how hard she had to try. “I know... that this wasn’t what we wanted.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jang Won frowns, swallowing the chunk of tears and snot in the back of her throat. “Nobody’s gonna help me build Hera’s Manor if you don’t. What’s Younghoon gonna do? Sit by and eat popcorn?”

“He probably would, wouldn’t he?”

Jang Won can feel her lips quiver, brows furrowing and her head slowly becoming heavier. 

“Listen, Jang Won. The Board will not be kind to you, and we’ve lived by The Board for more than 7 generations. Things will not go your way but I promise you... not everyone is as venomous as we think they are. Some, yes... but not everybody is out for blood. These people will come and help you when you most need it, and you must be kind, whenever you can.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Jang Won’s voice cracks and she doesn’t notice that the bickering outside the ward has ceased. Younghoon enters alone. “Tell me this again next time. I’m not gonna remember it.”

“I’ll always be with you, whether you know it or not, okay? I love you, Hera’s princess. Oh, my little girl.”

It’s a monumental effort on Jang Won’s part to keep herself from physically doubling over as she sobbed, her mother’s hand pressed into her cheek. 

She shuts her eyes, letting her face contort into a horrid mess of emotions when her mother turns to look at her son. 

“Hoon-ie... Promise me you’ll take care of Jang Won?” She holds out an arm, and her son cannot bring himself to take it, in fear that it would be the last. 

“I’ll always take care of her anyway,” His voice cracks, only worsening the hiccups in Jang Won’s chest. “You can remind me some other time.”

And again, with more effort needed, she smiles. “Come here, my Prince Artemis.”

Younghoon feels like there are roots coming from the ground and holding him to the concrete, but he manages to drag himself to her bed, kneeling down to rest his arms on the mattress. 

“You both... have been my everything. Thank you for teaching me what love is, when I thought I’ll never know what it is. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better mother than any other role I could ever have.”

Younghoon winces and looks down. “Stop-”

“I am... so proud of the two of you, and I’ve been so lucky to have the two of you as my children. There’s nothing I would change. Absolutely nothing.”

Finally, Kim Jo-Pil enters the ward. Hands in his pockets. Eyes unable to look at the breathing corpse on the hospital bed.

“Jang Won, Younghoon, let’s go. The two of you still have school tomorrow.”

“No, wait, please,” Jang Won shakes her head, tightening her grip on her mother’s arm. Her father already has one arm around Younghoon’s shoulder, but even the most obedient son looks reluctant.

“Father, please,” Younghoon frowns, tears brimming. 

“Let us stay for the night, please?” Jang Won’s brows furrow back, pushing herself back towards the wall as her father rounds the end of the bed.

“Father,” Younghoon anxiously tails his father, now trying to get a hold of Jang Won. “Just let us stay for this one night.”

“No, your mother would not approve of you staying here tonight.”

“Mom,” Jang Won whines, wrist already being pulled. “Please...”

“Mother, please. Please, please, please let me stay.”

Juyeon halts the brush in his mouth, instantly turning to exit the bathroom. The late morning sun drizzles across the length of the room as he watches Jang Won twitch and shudder under the thick blanket.

“Younghoon... do something...”

He frowns, returning to the bathroom just to get the toothpaste foam out of his mouth. Walking around the bed, he now notices the pool of tears stained into the pillowcase beneath her cheek. Her face is puffy and her cheeks are pink from the anxiety.

It’s a pinch in his gut, when the only time he sees this vulnerability in her is in her sleep.

“Jang Won,” He whispers, resting one knee into the bed and gently tapping on her shoulder. “Hey.”

“No, no, no... don’t make us leave...”

“Jang Won.”

“Mr Lee.”

Juyeon turns to the bedroom door, surprised to see Mr Ro already entering. Automatically backing off, Juyeon watches as the butler presses a warm cloth to her cheek and shove a mini canvas into Jang Won’s hold.

It was painted, with bumps from acrylic paint, and signed Yoo Se Kyung. 

Her breath slows, but her grip around the canvas tightens, and she stops talking. Mr Ro shifts back, clearing his throat and gathering his palms before his abdomen. He bows to Juyeon, eyes plastered to the floor.

“Does this happen often?”

Mr Ro resumes his upright stance, eyes glancing at Jang Won. “Every year, around late spring into summer, it comes back to her. The memories of visiting her mother in the hospital. I wouldn’t disclose too much - that’s for her to share when she finally trusts you, but I’ve been meaning to tell you about it before you leave for your honeymoon. I just didn’t expect it to come so quick.”

Jang Won’s tears have stopped, and her grip around the canvas has loosened. Mr Ro removes the cloth and bows to Juyeon, turning on his heels to leave the bedroom.

“Mr Ro.”

The butler halts, head turning to look back over his shoulder.

“‘Finally’ trusts me?”

Mr Ro offers a weak smile. 

“I haven’t seen her share a bed with anybody, nor care so much, ever since her mother passed.”

Juyeon sighs exasperatedly, scratching the skin on his cheekbones as his eyes flit to her for a split second. “That’s only because you have nowhere to house me, and that she needs me for the marriage.”

The elder lowers his head and shakes it gently. “I’ve known Jang Won for the entire 22 years she’s been alive. Some part of her trusts you, and I know you don’t see it, but I can.”

Pity washes over Juyeon first, then pleasant surprise, and finally, obligation. Is this how it feels like to have someone you want to protect?

“Breakfast is in the dining hall. Jang Won will wake up soon and she’ll confirm the itinerary for your honeymoon in Guatemala next week.”

“Oh, did she say if I needed to be there?”

“Only if you want to. Jang Won’s instructions were to keep it optional for you in case you had other obligations to tend to.”

Mr Ro walks off after giving one final bow to Juyeon, leaving him awkward by the bed. His heart sinks when he turns to her, sound asleep and holding almost no hint that she had been previously crying, having nightmares.

It’s a punch to the gut when he realises he’ll never be able to fully comprehend her pain, and even then, he wouldn’t have the autonomy to tell her that he knows how it feels - because he doesn’t.

Sitting by her edge of the bed, his brows furrow across his forehead as he gently pushes her hair out of her face. He needs to remind himself that sympathy and pity is the last thing she would want, so he makes it a point to remember the promise he made Younghoon.

Juyeon’s care for Jang Won has far exceeded his own expectations, and thus, will far exceed hers. Unable to erase the idea of himself that Jang Won had previously implanted in his head, that he was a coward, from that conflict they had in her office the previous day made Juyeon a little more rigid and his head a little clearer. The resolution he makes to protect her will far supersede his ability to care for her.

Kim Jo-Pil’s gaze cannot be torn from the sight of Lee Juyeon, gently stroking the head of hair of his daughter. The door had been left ajar when Mr Ro left and he had partially heard the conversation between his new son-in-law. He had expected Juyeon to be colder, conservative, as poisonous as his daughter had seemed to be.

So when Juyeon touched Jang Won with the weight of feathers and cotton and looked like he was memorising all the features on her face, the exact color of every strand of her hair and making one of those silent promises in his head, Kim Jo-Pil cannot help the twist in his left eye-lid. 

He pulls away when Juyeon finally removes himself off the bed, backing away from the door and hurriedly scurrying away. Just before he can reach the stairs that lead down into the main hall, he hears the door down the corridor he was just in creak open.

“Mr Kim.”

Kim Jo-Pil stops, turning to face the source of call.

“Juyeon,” Kim Jo-Pil bows deeply. “I... Didn’t know you were staying for the night.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Juyeon shakes his head. “But... I must ask.”

Kim Jo-Pil sucks in a deep breath, already knowing what was in his head.

“Why did you come back?”

[ecto-american]

The Other Side

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

On AO3 and FFN

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

Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.

Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.

She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.

He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?

So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.

Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.

"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.

"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.

"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"

"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"

"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"

"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.

"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"

And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.

Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.

He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.

Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.

That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.

"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.

"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.

"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."

"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."

It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.

Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.

Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.

She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.

Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.

And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.

Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.

On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.

"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."

"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"

Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...

"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"

It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.

Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.

"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."

Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?

"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."

"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."

"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.

His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.

His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.

Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.

"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.

There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.

The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.

That night, at dinner, he finally asked.

"What was dad like?"

His mom stared at him for a moment.

"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."

"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.

"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."

Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.

"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.

"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."

"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.

"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."

The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.

"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"

"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."

"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?

She smiled softly despite the conversation.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."

Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.

"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."

Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.

Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.

He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.

By breakfast, his mind was made up.

After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.

"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."

Johnny nodded.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."

Danny grinned.

"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."

It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.

Nothing came to mind.

"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.

"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."

Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.

[chibinekochan]

My biggest treasure - Ft. Mammon

Mammon is a Goblin in this au.

This is part of the Monster tales au Series

-------

You have been on the hunt for this treasure for a while now.

Having all the information about its whereabouts, defenses, and most importantly feeling morally right.

Its owner is a scummy guy after all.

This gem will not only bring you some nice cash, and bringing it back to its rightful owner will surely feel good too.

With well-planned moves, you make your way towards the big mansion.

Now you have to climb the wall. You have studied the moves of the guards.

They won't be around for a while.

With quiet steps, you move in the darkness. Only a few moves are needed to scale the wall and carefully jump on a neighboring tree.

Swiftly scan the area.

It seems the dogs haven't noticed you yet.

You want to keep it that way and continue your way on top of the trees. Carefully navigating through the shadows, practically becoming one of them.

Slowly, the lights of the mansion come into view.

The carefully kept garden is now in front of you.

The shrubs will offer you a little cover and the dogs might sense your presence. You smirk. Time for the real challenge to begin.

You take a deep breath to strengthen your nerves.

With ease, you jump from the tree and run at high speed through the garden, occasionally jumping over hedges.

By the time you hear dogs barking, you have already climbed the balcony and wait for clear air.

The guards check the hedges, but of course find nothing.

.

You smirk when they shrug and go back to their posts.

You wait a bit longer and then carefully and quietly open the door.

Your body is moving low and fast, knowing exactly where your target is. Lucky for you, the scumbag has a huge ego and displays what you are looking for right in his living room.

You sneak in the shadows, listening to every sound. It's quiet. You can only hear your own heart and breathing.

Then you see it slightly shimmering, illuminated by the moon. The gem you are looking for.

You calm your nerves and steady your hands.

Then suddenly you hear a commotion, loud barking from the outside. Some lights in the mansion turning on and glass shattering.

Unsure what just happened, your instinct kicks in and all you can do is run.

Light starts to shine into the room, causing the gem to sparkle as if to mock you.

You run towards the nearest window, ready to jump out.

When suddenly something passes you at high speed. For a moment you pause until you notice it's a person.

This must be whoever interrupted you.

You have no time to stay, you hear the guards closing in.

With little choice, you run and jump after the stranger.

The guards behind you yell, and the dogs chase you.

There is no time for anything else but running. You run in a straight line towards the wall. Following close behind the other person.

Once you jump the wall, you have to make sure that nobody is following you. You can still keep an eye on the other person.

Only catching a quick glance at them. White hair and blue eyes. You take a mental note of it.

Your pursuers are still behind you, and you decide to go deeper into the forest to shake them off or at least to hide.

You can smack the guy another time.

By the next day, you are back in your home. The loss of income is a hard blow to your family,, but it can't be helped. It's better to be poor but free.

Your siblings were disappointed,, but you can make money more honestly until another opportunity arises.

Hopefully, the medicine for your smallest sibling will last long enough. Worryingly, you eye the half-empty bottle.

"It's okay, we will work hard and buy more." Ian, the 2nd oldest, Ian, has seen your worries.

You ruffle their hair. "Don't worry about it. I will trade some herbs with the pharmacist and in the bar tonight again." You smile to ease their worries.

"You work too much." The 2nd youngest, Eva, looks worried.

"We have to get food, so we can cook a good meal. I will catch fish for us." Ian is suddenly super motivated.

"Yeah, I will get some veggies from our garden. Rest so you can work hard for us later." Eva has taken care of the garden and grown some stuff.

Your heart is filled with pride, and you hug them both. "You guys are the best, just don't forget to play with your friends too." You feel bad about being so poor,, but it can't be helped. After losing both parents, you are left as the oldest to take care of them.

And you do everything for them, even if it means stealing.

You go and rest for a while until sunset.

Then you cook the fish and vegetables that your siblings got for tonight. They are very good kids. You are very proud of them. You make soup for your youngest sibling, Owen.

"Dinner is ready." You dish everyone up, making sure your siblings get more than you.

"Looks great." Eve beams at the food.

"I worked hard for this fish, so you better eat it all." Ian looks at both of you sternly.

"Thank you both for the food." You are truly grateful to them.

"Will you have to go again soon?" Ian knows well that I have to leave them alone sometimes due to my 'nightwork'.

It can take days to get the treasure and to get my money. Not even mentioning the time I have to spend hiding. Still, the pay is so high that I can't afford not doing it.

"I will have to see,, but currently I have nothing lined up." I know it's hard for them when I'm not here,, but there is no other way for me to afford the medicine.

Ian seems troubled.

"Don't frown, Ian, we can handle everything just fine." Eve pats his back.

"Well, of course, but I'm worried about you." Ian becomes confident, but then frowns at you.

"Haha, I can watch out for myself. I'm plenty strong." I giggle. Sometimes he acts like the dad. It's sad that they all have to grow up so fast.

"Yeah, like the time you beat that bear. That was so cool!" Eve's eyes sparkle.

Ian shakes his head. "That was scary."

"I gotta agree with you. I will go and check on Owen. He needs to eat." You worry about the amount of food he eats. It's definitely not enough.

The others keep bickering, and you walk into the room. You open the windows, fill the pitcher with water, and check on Owen. He looks at you with tired eyes,, but he is smiling weakly.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Time for food." You smile, trying to hide your worries.

"I'm not really hungry." He says with a weak voice.

"It's very tasty. So why not try a bit?" His state breaks your heart,, but you fight through it.

Owen nods and you help him sit.

You feed him slowly. He seems to like it. This is relieving.

At some point, he can't eat anymore. "You ate half a bowl today. Great work." You encourage him.

Then you change his bedding and shake his pillows before giving him his medicine.

He frowns.

"I know it's bitter, but it helps, right? I have an apple for dessert if you take it all." You bribe him with a sliced apple.

"Pudding would be better." Owen smiles sheepishly.

"Pudding makes everything better. I will see what I can do." Sadly, even pudding is a luxury for us. I wonder if I can get a portion for everyone?

"It's alright, I like apples." Owen knows more about your situation than he lets on.

Owen bravely takes his medicine and eats a few slices of the apple.

You bring the rest to your other siblings.

Then you do a few chores before heading to work.

It's going to be a long night, you can already tell.

The bar you work at is a bit rowdy, the patrons are ruff, but overall good people. It's usually fun to work at the place.

The gruff owner is a nice guy, who often gives you 'leftovers' or stuff his wife made that he apparently really doesn't like. You know that neither is true,, but you are also not one to just take handouts, and he is also a bit awkward,, so this is how you two handle things.

"Hey, I'm in." I say hi to the owner, who grunts at me.

I start to clean the floor and prepare everything for opening time.

"Hey, the wife made some strange stuff again. Please take it off my hands' kiddo?" The owner shoves a box towards you.

It's definitely food that smells great. "Are you sure? It sure smells nice."

"Get it off me, before I toss it out." The owner frowns.

I take the box. "Alright, thank the wife for me." I smile at him and put the box in the back.

"You're gonna make her believe her food is any good." He grumbles.

"Don't let her hear that,, or she might believe you." I grin at him, knowing that he loves her food.

He shrugs. "We've got game night tonight so if it gets rowdy, feel free to kick them."

With game night, he means gambling. It's not really legal, but it brings good business but of course also some strange people.

"Sure thing. I hope we get some big spenders tonight." Usually, the drunken winners give nice tips.

"You just keep dreaming big kiddo, as long as we make money I'm happy." He keeps cleaning glasses while talking.

You clean the last few tables and get the gaming stuff ready, it's just a box of dice, cards and such things.

Slowly the guests are pouring in. Most of which you know on a first-name. They order their usual. These guests aren't only here for gambling, they are here on most nights anyway.

Then when night breaks a different clientele is pouring in and filling the tables.

They all know the game. Trading money for snacks or coasters. Some use their means of hiding the money in play.

The owner keeps a close eye on everything from a distance. While you keep filling glasses.

Nothing strikes you as odd until you see a Goblin on one of the tables. This by itself isn't all that unusual, all kinds of folk come here after all. This goblin somehow strikes you as odd.

Then suddenly you realize, his hair color is white. That is certainly unusual, sadly you can't see his eyes since he wears yellow-tinted glasses.

This might be the guy that screwed you over. You feel anger rising at this realization. Even if he probably didn't mean to, he still cost you a nice paycheck.

For a while, you try to keep a close eye on him but the other customers keep you busy.

Especially when a guy wins big and throws around for everyone. Of course, this is a cause for celebration for everyone.

Now with the alcohol level raised you have to use your kicking abilities a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You handle yourself well and the owner kicks a few rowdy guests out.

Finally, it calms down a bit in the early hours of the morning.

You sigh deeply, but it was pretty successful. You got a big tip from one guy.

The goblin is forgotten by now.

"I don't need you for the rest of the night." This is the owner's way of telling you to go home and rest.

"Thanks. Don't make too long." You glance around at the few leftover guests.

"No worries, I will kick em out soon." He grumbles.

You take the food and head out the backdoor.

The cool night air feels good on your skin, you take a deep breath and start walking.

Once, you pass by a tight ally, and you notice a group of guys harassing someone.

Under your watch! It seems to be three guys, all rather drunk. You can take them.

You walk towards the guys. "Hey, I think that's enough."

"Huh, what's that? Are you kiddn me?" One of the drunks looks towards me.

"Whatever that guy did, he had enough. You all don't want to go to jail for killing a guy, do you?" You huff at them, trying to look bigger than you are.

"Aw, come on, he has it comin. This guy is a cheat." The other man kicks the poor victim.

You shake your head. "Come on guys, just go home, he learned his lesson."

The guy on the floor groans. "I'll be good, I swear." He doesn't sound super convincing, to be honest.

The drunks shuffle around. Seemingly unhappy to leave.

"Guys go home. You got your money back, so your wife won't be mad,, but they might be if you are in jail for murder." You try to convince them.

The guys seem to freeze up. "Ah, well, it's late anyway. You better not show your face here again." With that, they shuffle off.

You sigh with relief when they walk away. You then go to check on the man on the floor.

Now you notice it's the Goblin you saw earlier. His glasses are shattered on the floor, revealing his blue eyes. So it might be that thief from the other night after all.

"Ugh… that hurt. Thanks for that." He staggers while trying to get up.

"You might want to go to a doctor for these injuries." You glare at him.

"What's with that look? Do I know you? D-don't tell me I owe you money?!" Suddenly he seems to be much better and gets up. Seemingly trying to get some distance between you.

"I don't even know you." You glare at him. "Though I'd say you owe me for saving your butt." You feel like he is pretty ungrateful.

"Well, thanks then… Umm, I got no cash, but here I got this necklace." He rummages through his pockets and pulls out a necklace from somewhere.

He dangles it in front of you.

You can only frown at it. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, it ain't any day that I give stuff like that. So be grateful." He huffs at you.

"I'd be more grateful if it wasn't gaudy or fake." You take the clearly fake jewelry. Maybe Eve will like it.

"Fake? You can tell with just one glance?" He seems impressed.

You feel like he has just seen right through you. "It's a special talent." You shrug and play it cool.

"Well, in that case. I could use your special skills for a job. I need someone to tell me what the valuables are." He changes right into business mode.

"Are you offering illegal work to me?" You act all offended.

"Come on, the job in that dingy bar doesn't pay well. I'd split 90:10." He smiles at you.

"I gladly take that 90 percent, very generous." You know that's not his offer,, but he somehow irritates you.

"It'll be 10 for you,, obviously." He shakes his head.

"No, thanks. I don't trust you anyway." You glare at him.

"Fine, how about 30 percent?" He throws his hand up as if he is being generous.

"More like 70 for me if you can't even tell what's fake." You can't believe that you are still talking to this guy.

He sighs. "Alright, I get it, same risk same reward right? So 50:50. My last offer."

"You seem quite desperate. What kind of stuff are we talking about here, anyway?" Now you are getting curious.

"It's an old mansion. Real old money. Real old scum, too. I just want to grab some of their valuables. It's not like they're gonna miss it anyway." He is vague,, but you somehow feel like you know what place he is talking about.

"Does that happen to be the raven mansion?" The place where your heist was interrupted.

His eyes go wide. "How'd you know?"

"Let's just say that I got interrupted in my own business by some amateur." You glare at him.

"Wait… t-that was you? Oh man, you were ama… umm I mean you were okay." The tips of his ears glow dark.

"You should grovel for what you have done. Screwed me right out of a job." Finally, you can let your anger out.

"I had no idea you were there. I'm sorry." He seems at least half earnest. "So that only means you already know the place, and you can finish the other job there too. I'd take no cut of that either. See, I'm very generous."

"Says the guy that offered me ten percent." You huff at him.

"That was just testing the waters, I'd given you at least 30." He puffs his cheeks. "So it's all settled then?"

"No, I still don't trust you." You eye him carefully.

"What would it take for you to take the job?" He asks, also looking for a sign of weakness in me.

"Well, first of all your name." This is an important first step, at least.

"Ah, could've said you were interested. I mean, you were eyeing me in the bar the whole time. I'm down if you are." He calmly shrugs.

You take a step towards him. "You wish." You look him right in the eyes, glaring at him.

He awkwardly looks away. "J-just saying I'm a handsome goblin…"

"I have seen better. Besides, it means that you checked me out, doesn't it?" You grin at him.

His cheeks turn dark. "N-no, I just felt a burning gaze on me the entire time."

"That was disdain and nothing else." You cross your arms.

"Call it whatever you want." He huffs and turns his head awkwardly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to show that you can trust me?"

"How about telling me your name?" You eye him with suspicion.

"I'm the great Mammon. Better not forget it." He puffs his chest in a display of pride.

You don't acknowledge his presentation whatsoever. "What are you planning to do with that treasure?"

"I'm gonna sell it for cash to pay some debts. I might keep a thing or two for my collection too." Mammon seems pretty honest about it, at least.

"With that, you mean you pawn it and gamble." You only can guess,, but his behavior at the bar speaks volumes.

He seems to feel called out. "Hey, I'm good at gambling, just some people think I'm too good ya know?"

"Nobody is good at it, it's just luck and in your case cheating. You should know better than to gamble all your cash." You start to lecture him.

"I get it, I get it." He sighs. "You sound like my big bro." He sighs deeply. "So, this is all you want to know?"

You think for a moment. "I don't know,, but I guess it's enough for now. I'd wish I had some security at least.” You sigh. "I know it can't be helped."

"I get ya, you've got a life you can't just go or whatever." Mammon seems to agree with you. "Alright, I don't like doing this,, but I got something that might convince you." He then starts to rummage through his vest, he obviously has some hidden pockets in there.

He then produces a gold coin. "Here ya go. I want it back after the job is done. So better not lose it." Mammon seems a bit reluctant to let the coin go.

"This coin seems important to you." You carefully inspect it, it's real, but there seems to be some story here.

"Goldie is my personal good luck charm." He looks almost fondly at the coin.

You smile, somehow this is cute. When you realize your smile, you make your face freeze once more.

"Alright, I acknowledge you as my partner." You reach your hand out to him.

"So that's what it took,, huh?" He seems a bit confused but also relieved.

You shake hands and the deal is sealed.

Mammon suggests a meeting point in a few days' time. He needs to heal and prepare after all.

You also have to make sure your siblings are taken care of. So this works for you.

[im-a-star-boy]

Dream’s Missing

So this isn’t parksborn. I know, this never happens. It’s dreamteam instead. Boss Mob AU by @qyukie

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: Dream hasn’t shown up to their hangouts in a few days

Word Count: 3,263

Date of Completion: Tuesday, August 4th, 2020

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The moon shone above the three bosses as they chatted cheerfully, one of many routines amongst them. 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some pretty powerful new players going around,” Sapnap spoke up as the conversation began to fall flat.

Dream glanced up. “New players? We haven’t had new players around here in ages! Who are they?”

Sapnap shrugged. “I’ve heard a few names floating around, but the ones that seem to stick are Alex and Steve.” Dream hummed curiously. “Well, I’m interested.”

“Are they nice?” George asked.

“As far as I’ve heard they haven’t been causing any trouble.” Sapnap hummed. “But I’ve also heard they’re pretty brutal to mobs, even when they’re neutral.”

Dream made a face as Sapnap chugged down a bit of lava and flicked a spare cinder away. “I mean, I get where they’re coming from. If you’re getting attacked, fight back, you know?”

George nodded in agreement. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve never killed mobs,”

“Well yeah but it’s not like we go searching for mobs to kill for sport, and most players don’t unless they’re trying to enchant. Risk is too high,” Sapnap continued.

Dream shrugged. “Well, if they don’t bother me, I won’t bother them.”

The others nodded to his sentiment. After all, it’s just a few players, how dangerous could they be?

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

For the following weeks, the bosses seemed to forget about the players, continuing with their routines as usual. One day, Dream failed to show up to the meeting. 

“George, relax. It’s probably just one of his End Crystals messing up or something.”

“The End Crystals don’t just, ‘mess up’, Sapnap. He could be hurt!”

“Dream’s probably the strongest of us what with that End Crystal inside him always healing him. I’m sure he’s fine, George.”

“But what if he isn’t?”

Sapnap grabbed his shoulders. “Let’s give him a few days, he could be running off to do some weird challenge he heard about. You know how he is, if he isn’t back within a few days, we’ll go to the End to get him.”

George swallowed before nodding. “Okay,”

.oOo.oO.oOo.

Several days passed with no sign of Dream and the two bosses were becoming fearful. While both of them were hesitant to go to the End, if Dream was hurt, they had to go. They met up at dawn in the ever-so-familiar plains biome, before descending into the Stronghold. As they looked, something felt off. “Is the Stronghold looking a little… I don’t know, cleaner to you?”

George looked around and realized Sapnap was right. The library was clear of webs, give or take a few. There were fewer cracked and mossy bricks lining the walls, gaps in the floor were filled in, and there were less Silverfish scurrying about. It almost made him uneasy. “Either Dream’s finally redecorating or something’s wrong, Sapnap…” 

The black-haired boss was quiet before leading him down the halls to the portal room. “Come on,”

The two were quick to jump into the portal, anxious to see their friend. As they got through, they were met with the entry room being slightly messier than they were used to. There were a few chests that, when checked, contained blocks of cobblestone, dirt, endstone, weapons, and potions. It… confused the two, to say the least. 

Sapnap made his way up the stairs first and George was quick to abandon the chest to join him. The two were met with a startling display. The end was covered in towers of dirt, cobblestone, and netherrack piled up the side of the pillars. There were a few gaping holes in the ground here and there and the portal’s torches were missing. It was a messy display, to say the least as the two stared around them. “What… what happened here?”

“I have no idea…”

The Enderman were a bit more scattered than usual, watching the visitors as they walked through the terrain. George stopped to examine one of the holes. “It looks like someone used TNT and a lot of it. Dream wouldn’t do this, something’s wrong.” He pressed, his voice wavering with fear.

The two continued to look around when Sapnap froze. “Oh my god,”

George looked up. “What?”

“George- look!”

He followed Sapnap’s gaze and his heart dropped as he realized what he was pointing to. “The End Crystals are gone…”

Sapnap was immediately hovering up to check the taller pillars. After a few moments, he landed looking pale. “They’re all gone, George. Every one of them,”

George stared at him, mouth agape. “You… you’re lying…”

“They’re gone.”

He looked down, his eyes wide, before swallowing. “Come on, there’s an End City nearby, right? Let’s go there, maybe Dream’s hiding out there.”

Sapnap looked pained before nodding and turning to go. He carried George across the abyss to the floating island that the End City was on. They were quick to enter the large building and search, calling for Dream. The Shulkers watched them idly as they looked through, calling for their friend.

There was no response.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

After hours of searching, they were left with no choice but to return home and wait. They had tracked down a few people, asking if any of them had seen Dream, and had come up empty-handed. There were limited villages they could ask, as most were afraid of them and sicced their Iron Golems on them. The response was justified however, as centuries before, the three’s ancestors had been less than kind to the Overworld. They still searched relentlessly, finding little clues as to their friends’ whereabouts. 

“We need to ask new villages.” George persisted.

“As much as I’d like to, you know how they’re gonna respond to us!”

“Sapnap, we need to find Dream! We’ve used all the resources we have, we need to expand out.”

“They’ll kill us!”

“We can get disguises!”

Sapnap hesitated and sighed, looking down. “For Dream,”

George nodded with a forced smile. “For Dream.”

The two were quick to don black cloaks to hide their faces and leave. They needed to find a village. Sapnap carried two buckets of lava for himself while George brought fish and a few water bottles so he could stay hydrated. The two searched for a few hours before coming across one. It was fairly large and there were several players who seemed to call the place home. They entered and walked through, curious. 

It was a quaint village, houses ranging in sizes from a few blocks wide to several stories high. In the center of the town by an old fashioned well near the plaza was a small stand where two players were boasting about. A rather large group of players and villagers were gathered around, listening to the two, rather plain-looking players, talk. George approached to listen while Sapnap continued looking around the village. 

The two were gloating loudly, claiming to be the strongest being in all of Minecraft, which was something of a taboo. Most people didn’t say that, as the bosses look very similar to regular players, boasting about being stronger than them was a very quick way to irritate them. George was probably the least affected by it, while Dream would almost immediately smite anyone who dared make a claim like that.

He watched the two players boast and nudged a nearby villager. “Hey, who are they?”

The villager turned. “You don’t know? Those two are Steve and Alex,”

George raised an eyebrow and looked up at them. “Huh, I expected the two to be a bit more… I don’t know, memorable?”

The villager didn’t reply as George took them in. Steve seemed to have a light blue shirt and dark blue pants. He was clad in iron armor, save for his diamond chest plate, and had an enchanted diamond sword hilted on his belt with an enchanted bow around his shoulders. On his arm was a shield with a blue and black pattern. Alex had a green shirt and brown pants and the same armor as Steve, though her boots were also enchanted. She seemed to have the same gear as well. She watched in seemingly fond amusement as Steve gloated about his adventures and strengths. 

“No mob can stand up to me! I’ll take down anything that tries!”

Sapnap joined him in the crowd. “Who’re these jokers?”

“Steve and Alex.”

Sapnap looked up. “Really?”

George nodded mutely.

“Huh, little underwhelming, don’t you think?”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The two looked up and Sapnap frowned. “These two need to get off their high horses.” He grumbled. “I should teach em’ a lesson.” He growled, his hands beginning to smolder.

George put his arm in front of him. “Don’t, we’re undercover.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a player nearby shouting. “What makes you think you’re better than the rest of us?”

A small chorus of voices joined in and Steve put his hands out, laughing. “Alright, alright. You all want proof? I’ll give you proof!”

He reached into his bag and the crowd fell silent as he pulled out a white object. It took George a few moments to realize what it was when Steve held it up, but when he made the connection, his heart dropped into his stomach. “Oh my god…”

“Now this, my fellow players, is what the boss in the End, Dream, dropped when I killed him!” He announced, holding the white Mask with the Enderman’s eye on the left.

The crowd went silent for a few seconds before one player regained himself. “PUT THAT AWAY!” He shouted, horrified.

Steve jumped, slightly startled by his outburst. “What?”

The player jumped onto his platform and shoved the Mask back into Steve’s bag. “Don’t you know?! If you kill one boss, the other two will be after you!”

Both Steve and Alex perked up at the prospect of two other bosses. “Other two?”

George stopped listening as he looked down, covering his mouth. “Oh my god… oh my god…” Tears filled his eyes and began streaming down his face. “Oh god… Dream’s dead… he’s… I…” 

He felt heat barreling into him in waves and turned to see Sapnap, though crying, but also looking pissed to all hell. A few players and villagers backed away at the heat. “You killed him?” He shouted.

Steve, Alex, and the other player looked at him. “What?”

Sapnap took a step closer as the others moved away from him. “Did you kill Dream?” He snarled, heat coming off him even hotter as he emphasized each word.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yes?”

Sapnap’s breathing picked up and he let out a pained whimper, before taking a sharp breath and letting out an agonized cry as flames came off of him, burning the cloak and anyone who stood too close. It was enough to get several players and villagers fleeing as Sapnap choked. He looked up, his eyes blazing as tears fell down his face. “I’ll kill you for that,”

“Oh my god it’s one of the other bosses,” The player beside Steve whimpered.

Before Steve or Alex could respond, Sapnap was in front of him in an instant, gripping Steve’s throat with a smoldering hand. Steve let out a pained cry as Sapnap’s hand burned into his throat. The player scrambled away, letting out horrified cries as he went, and Alex was quick to take her bow and shoot at him. Sapnap let out a pained cry and dropped him as Alex shot him with another arrow. He turned his attention to her and threw a fireball at her, tears still streaming down his face as he attacked. “YOU KILLED HIM!” He screamed, his voice breaking with emotion.

Steve drew his sword. “He was a mob, just like you are!” He scowled.

“HE WAS MY FRIEND!”

Sapnap felt… pain. Dream was gone… Mobs aren’t like players; when they die, they don’t get the luxury of respawning. Dream’s gone, Dream’s gone, Dream’s gone… The thought killed him as it began sprinkling. It wasn’t long before the small droplets became a downpour as he continued to attack the two players. While he was still far from weak, his powers were significantly reduced in the rain without the added danger of his targets burning. He struggled to continue his attacks as lightning flashed above them. Combating two enemies with the added bonus of his emotional distress and the slippery ground beneath him was difficult. The deafening crack and flash of lightning striking nearby startled him, causing him to slip.

He let out a shout as he fell on his back in the mud as Steve stood above him looking smug. “Didn’t you hear me? No mob can stand up to me.”

Steve raised his sword and, while Sapnap knew the blow wouldn’t nearly be enough to kill him, it wouldn’t feel nice. Sapnap braced himself for impact when the sound of metal breaking made him look up. Steve was standing there still for a moment. There were three small bloodied spikes coming out of the middle of his chest plate. He looked down, bewildered when a breaking voice spoke up. “You’ve already killed one of my friends, I won’t let you kill another.”

Sapnap looked behind Steve to see George standing there, the cloak off and crying as the trident was yanked out of Steve and into George’s hand, the spikes drenched in Steve’s blood and quickly getting washed off in the rain. Steve turned to him, wide-eyed before dying and presumably respawning somewhere. Alex looked between the two bosses, horrified, before running off. 

Sapnap stood up and began brushing the mud off his back as George slowly walked over to Steve’s belongings and reaching down to pick up Dream’s heavily cracked mask. He stared at it for a moment as a few players began gathering around, watching the bosses quietly. Sapnap approached, tears still streaming down his face and joined him in looking at the mask. It was only for a few moments before he looked up. “George, George we gotta go,” He whispered, looking at the players who had their weapons drawn.

George nodded mutely and looked at his trident. “This has Riptide, let’s go.”

Sapnap nodded and quickly began hovering before flying away as George threw his trident, pulling him along, and the two were off.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

George sat in the stronghold, staring at the mask in his hands while Sapnap sat across from him. “What are we gonna do..?”

Sapnap shook his head while shaking. “I don’t know…”

George curled up and buried his face in his legs. “I… I can’t… He’s gone, Sapnap… He’s actually gone… I can’t believe this…” He whispered.

Sapnap looked up mutely, tears streaming down his face, before sighing and standing up, moving to sit beside George. “Cm’ere.” He sighed, wrapping an arm around George.

He hiccuped softly and broke down, tears streaming down his face. “What are we gonna do?” He repeated, sobbing.

“I don’t know, George. We’ll… we’ll figure it out…”

The two stayed there for a long time, crying softly, when footsteps filled the hallway. The two looked up to see Sylvee walking down the hallway, looking somber. “Sylvee,” Sapnap greeted quietly.

Sylvee looked at the two and smiled softly. “Hey, you guys.”

George swallowed. “You heard the news?”

Sylvee looked down and nodded. “Yeah.”

The group was quiet for a moment before Sylvee took a breath. “Don’t look so down, we might have a chance.”

George looked up again. “A chance?”

Sylvee nodded. “It was something Dream told me a while back, a way to bring him back.”

George and Sapnap took a small breath. “We can… bring him back?”

Sylvee hesitated. “I don’t know, it might work, it might not, but hell is it worth a shot.” 

George wiped his face and stood up. “What do we need?”

“We need four Ghast tears, four Eyes of Ender, and twenty-eight glass.”

George smiled weakly and forced a chuckle. “That’s a lot of glass,”

Sylvee smiled softly back. “Yep, now chop chop you two.”

The two were off, not wanting to wait any longer.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

The two were back within a day with all the necessary items. Sylvee smiled at them. “Help me make these into the End Crystals, you have his mask, right?”

George hesitated before reaching into his satchel under his faded grey and lilac cloak and pulling it out. “Yeah, it’s here.”

He glanced at it and practically whimpered when he saw small blood splotches. Sapnap saw the dried blood and licked his thumb before wiping it off. There new cracks in the mask that made the two bosses wince. Sylvee nodded. “Let’s go,”

The two helped carry the End Crystals into the End. As they got into the small room, Sapnap scowled. “Hang on,” He muttered, setting the Crystals down, before lighting the chest and it’s contents on fire.

The three watched the chest burn for a few moments before continuing up the stairs mutely. It was a comfortable but unsettling silence as they hopefully made their way up and into the End, just wanting their friend back.

They walked towards the bedrock portal and Sylvee turned to them. “Sapnap, put Dream’s mask on the pillar in the center.” She ordered.

Sapnap nodded and did so as George placed the first End Crystal. Sylvee placed the second, while Sapnap placed the third. They all glanced at each other as Sylvee grabbed the final End Crystal and took a deep breath. “Please work,” She whispered to herself, before stepping forward and placing the last one.

For a moment, nothing happened and Sylvee felt her heart drop, when suddenly, from above, the three heard a loud, ground-shaking roar. The Endermen looked up hopefully as the three stared up when Sapnap took a step back. “Crystal’s glowing- crystal’s glowing!” 

George immediately stumbled backward as Sylvee took a hopeful breath. The four Crystals shot a beam akin to the one that healed Dream when he was in the End into the air. The three stared up wide-eyed as the earth-shattering roar filled the air again. Then, the beams began shooting to each of the towers, shining onto where the former End Crystals floated. The three watched in amazement as the top of the towers exploded and brand new End Crystals took their place, the same beam shining straight into the sky where the four on the portal had before. This repeated with the other 9 pillars. 

They all stared up wide-eyed as tears filled George’s eyes. “Dream…” He whimpered.

The beams began shooting down to Dream’s mask. The three stared wide-eyed as all the cracks that once existed in his mask were sealed. One final rumbling roar filled the air before there was a blast from the mask, sending all three flying. Sapnap caught himself midair by floating, George dug his trident into the ground, stopping him from flying far, and Sylvee managed to land on her feet. The three returned their gazes to the portal. On the center pillar, there stood Dream, alive and well.

George’s breath caught in his throat as Dream looked over them, before turning to Sylvee with a grin. “Good to hear you listen to me when I’m talking.”

Sapnap stared for a moment, before bursting into tears and flying full speed at his friend, knocking him off the pillar and onto the endstone beneath him. “DREAM!”

George regained himself and ran to him. “OH MY GOD- DREAM!”

Dream laughed loudly as the two hugged Dream tightly. 

He was alive.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [17]

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

➜ Words: 4.6k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Marriage seems to be the ultimate goal for many.    And you have to admit its appeal — cute invitations tucked onto tables by bouquet centerpieces, flowers blooming and budding all around the aisle and arch, long trains of wedding dresses, the tulle of the veil, the glowing smile of both bride and groom radiating happiness.   Love is in the air and it’s hard to hate it. It’s difficult to remain bitter.   For a brief moment in time, you forget about pushing the idea that romance is sickly — that the emotional dependency will cripple you when affections inevitably run out, that the imminent insecurity and jealousy will only act to lower self-esteem, that heartbreak is always impending.   Just for the slightest of seconds….you forget to hate love.   “Jungkook, Y/N! Get in here!”   Sejeong eagerly motions you over and you exchange an expression with the boy beside you before scattering over hesitantly. Yet, she fervently welcomes you, shuffling over and draping her arm around your shoulder. Jungkook stands beside you, smiling wide for the camera.   “One. Two. Three.” The wedding photographer snaps several pictures of all four of you.    “Is this okay?” you ask in a slight murmur in-between shots, still worried considering you didn’t really have a place in this wedding. The only people you know here are the two of them, Jungkook, and Chungha who was somewhere preparing to walk down the aisle.   “Of course, it is!” Namjoon zealously assures with a grin. “You guys are our official wedding cake makers. We can’t forget about you two.”   “Chungha requested that we take as many pictures as we can. She won’t mind, trust me.” Sejeong smiles, excited for her sister’s wedding, and she squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be a great way to look back on the memories.”   There are a few more pictures taken and when the photographer gives the ��okay’ sign, the married couple enthusiastically runs out of the frame. “Okay, now just our two interns!”   You and Jungkook awkwardly scoot together, but then the photographer raises his head and suggests you both to go even closer. And that’s enough for Jungkook to throw his arm around your shoulders, pull you close enough that you nearly stumble into his chest and he flashes a grin as the camera snaps while your expression is still stunned.   The next picture, you stand on the tips of your toes with the hopes of overcoming Jungkook’s height and teasing him later on for being short. But he quickly notices you and his grip on your shoulder tightens, attempting to pull you down for the following photograph.    “Hey, don’t try to push me down!”   You try to shove his hand off, but the effort is futile and Jungkook giggles. “You’ll never be taller than me, Y/N.”   “Psh.” You stay on the tips of your toes, putting your hand over your head like that’ll somehow create the illusion your height is greater than his. But then Jungkook goes on his toes as well, lifting up his chin. The two of you laugh, using one another to keep balance and stand as high as possible. �� Namjoon and Sejeong grin at your banter and the photographer is smiling as well, continuing to take pictures at different angles and distances with no end in sight.   “You got something on your nose, Jeon,” you lie.   “What?” His heels touch the ground again and his hand lifts to his face. You steal the opportunity to jump straight up as high as you can, putting your hands on his shoulders.    The wedding photographer captures the picture, then one of Jungkook turning his head in shock as you’re still in the air. Then the one where you’re descending and he opens his arms, catching your fall. And the one where you turn to each other, smiling wide as you gaze at each other.   The photographer doesn’t say that these are the best candids he’s taken.   “My name is Jung Sowon and this is Stand By Me.” The woman with the sleek, long, black hair stands at the stage. The band begins to play behind her, drums and guitar crescendo. The wedding singer parts her mouth to sing the first note and the melodic song fills the venue. “When the night has come. And the land is dark. And the moon is the only light we'll see.”   You linger by, watching and swaying to the rhythm.    “Would you like some champagne, ma’am?”   A familiar voice beside you interrupts the music, but it’s a smooth timbre that you recognize.   You turn to find Jungkook, offering you a flute of bubbling champagne and you laugh, taking it.    “Thank you, good sir.”   Jungkook’s dressed in a classic suit — white shirt, black blazer and trousers, shoes and tie. It’s simple, but it makes him look good, hugging his form well. You can’t help musing that he cleans up well. But maybe that’s because you helped him do his hair. It’s combed down as usual, but with the bangs slightly curled in, a bit of his forehead peeking out. Jungkook was screeching this morning and whining like a baby, afraid your straightener would burn his skin, but you’re glad you held him down and did it.    You’re in a blue dress yourself, one that stops at the knees and is ruffled at the neckline. You didn’t think you looked particularly special, but by the way Jungkook was staring at you earlier, you’re not sure what to think anymore.   “The ceremony’s starting soon. We should go.”   You follow his lead, sipping on your champagne. “Hey. Don’t get drunk. It would be embarrassing.”   He scoffs, playfully eyeing you. “Who do you think I am?”   A grin spreads into your face. “I’m just saying.”   The two of you find your seats at the left, near the back. The parents of the groom and bride gather together too, taking their spots at the front rows and the other wedding guests begin trickling into the garden area.    You lean over to Jungkook, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but murmuring underneath your breath, “When do you think it’ll be over?”   “I don’t know. Half an hour to an hour? Why?”   “I’m kind of hungry.”   “Course you are,” he says back but then begins looking around. “Do you want me to ask one of the waiters to bring around those appetizers again?”   “No, I’m fine.” You giggle. “I was joking. I’ll be fine, Jungkook.”   But concern lingers in his eyes. “Are you sure?”   “I won’t starve,” you assure, not knowing he would take it so seriously. Jungkook is attentive to you these days and you’re not sure how to feel……   No. That’s not entirely true. You do know how you feel. But you won’t say it out loud.   Instead, you focus your attention on your surroundings.   The venue was absolutely lovely. It was still a part of the resort, but in a more secluded area that’s away from the prying eyes of tourists and resort guests. A few meters away was the ocean. The tide that was kissing against the shore, saltwater bubbling and fizzing every so often. It was the best of both worlds — the man-made garden inside the tent gorgeous and contrasting against the beach background outside. The floor is verdant grass, soft underneath your feet, and the flowers are in full bloom and wrapped around the ceiling and wedding arch.    The reception area you had peeked at earlier was even more incredible.    You can’t wait until the sun sets and the fairy lights turn on.    “This is actually so nice,” you sigh out, speechless. “You know, for the longest time, I wanted a garden wedding too. Like pink peonies would be one of the themes or focuses or whatever. They bloom during late spring, early summer, so that would be perfect since the weather would be good too.”   Jungkook glances at you. “Do you still want that?”   “I’d probably never get married, so it doesn’t really matter.” You shrug to him, snapping back to reality.    “Why not?”   “Love’s gross,” you mutter quietly as the last people take their seats. “Plus, no one wants me.”   “I want you.”   Jungkook says it forthrightly, without a beat of hesitation, instinctively. As if you asked him what his name was. You look at him, staring wide-eyed. Jungkook gazes back at you, unwavering.    Your heart stutters. And you quickly look away from him.   “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing.”   He sulks. “I’m not.”   But none of you are able to speak another word. The music interrupts when it begins. The classic wedding march plays and everyone turns around to watch the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk down the aisle with bright smiles. Sejeong and Namjoon wave at the two of you as well as they stride past.   And soon, Chungha is the one walking down with her arm hugging her father’s. She’s in a beautiful, white ball gown, practically glowing as the trail of her dress follows. The woman looks the happiest she’s ever been and as envious as you are, the joy is overwhelming.    Her soon-to-be husband is wiping at his eyes and when they meet, they hold one another’s hands, giggling.   "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”   The officiant addresses the couple, reading a long passage from his book for twenty minutes about what love and marriage means. Then there’s an exchange of vows and it becomes emotional as they read their professions of love to one another.    You feel the sting of your eyes that you try to dispel away.   You forgot love could be so innocent and comforting. For so long, you’ve demonized it in your mind, discredited the emotion as silly mistakes. But with the way the couple stare at one another underneath the arch — so genuinely in love — you realize you had forgotten love could be so sincere.   Not every love ends in heartbreak. Not every relationship ends in heartache.   You had forgotten.    And you find yourself stealing glances at Jungkook.   “Sometimes I wonder how it’s possible that I became so lucky. That I was there on that day. At the right time. And I met you,” the groom inhales a soft breath, staring at his soon-to-be wife. “Not everyone can marry their best friend, but I’m happy to be one of them. There’s no one I’d rather become a family with than you.”   The rings are exchanged as tears pool in eyes and then the pronouncement of marriage is made. After the kiss, the closing remarks are said and everyone stands up, cheering at the newly married pair.   Chungha is laughing, her husband grinning hard and they run down the aisle together.   Love is in the air and you’re glad that you’re experiencing it with Jungkook by your side.   //   Weddings are stressful when you’re the planner or the couple, but it’s fun as the guest. One of the perks that you and Jungkook especially have is being able to pig out at the table without having to mingle or interact with others. It’s not like you know anyone here, so the pair of you have resided by the snack area.   “The catering company didn’t do a bad job.” You lick off your fingers.    Jungkook hums and then turns to you with his arm extended. You look down, finding him holding a chocolate strawberry and immediately, your lips part. He feeds it to you and you taste it on your palette while shaking your head.   “Not as good as yours.”   “Of course.” Jungkook grins, relishing in your praise.   “Where’d you find that?”    “Don’t freak out.” He pauses, letting you suffer in suspense on purpose. “There’s a chocolate fondue fountain over there.”   Immediately you whirl around to where he’s indicating and an audible gasp tears from your throat. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle in mirth and he follows after you, chiding you not to run.   The milk chocolate is falling at three different tiers, grandly cascading downwards in a smooth liquid. You grab a plate and begin to stack skewered strawberries, marshmallows, banana slices, rice krispy squares and pretzels onto it. And the two of you end up crowding the fountain, dipping the food in one at a time to indulge.    “God, I love chocolate.” You could drop dead right now and ascend to the afterlife fulfilled.   Jungkook holds back a laugh. “Don’t eat too much. You’re going to ruin your appetite and get a stomach ache.”   “Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quickly. “I’m living my best life here, Jeon. I could die happy right now.”   “You better not.” He smiles. “I still need you around to cover for me when I mess up.”   Jungkook has more of a sensitive sweet tooth than you do, so he slows down his chocolate consumption sooner than you even have plans of halting. But he enjoys watching you eat, filling your cheeks with chocolate-covered fruit and sweets. He feels satisfied somehow when he watches you consume to your heart’s content.   He eventually starts dipping what’s left on his plate to feed you, not allowing it to go to waste.   “Ah.”   Your lips part and he feeds you again, but this time, the chocolate accidentally drips onto Jungkook’s hand. He curses, pulling up his white sleeve to not get it stained, but before he can grab a napkin to wipe himself off, your hand clasps around his wrist.   Without thinking twice, you pull his hand to your mouth and you lick off the chocolate. Your warm tongue runs along his skin, cleaning the mess. It takes only three seconds. But in the meanwhile, your pupils flicker up to look into Jungkook’s. Directly. Boldly.   His Adam’s apple visibly bobs in his throat. Sweat begins to collect at his hairline but by then, you’ve already let go and turned away. You’re nonchalant. Your attention returns back to the chocolate fountain and you’re fucking humming, continuing to pig out.   Jungkook cusses in his mind.    You’re a vixen. A damn witch.   But there’s no time to react or linger. Not when you’ve obviously moved on and haven’t thought much about your action. Not when the married couple arrives at the reception area and everybody takes their seats again.    “Thank you everyone for taking the time to come here for us.” Everyone raises their glasses of champagne. “We really appreciate it.”   “I’d also like to thank my older sister, Sejeong, and Namjoon for making such a beautiful wedding cake.” Chungha grins. “It was a surprise, but it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined and it was one less thing to worry about, so thank you. I knew I could trust you.”   “Please,” Sejeong says aloud, “It’s my job.”   There’s shared laughter and the bride carries on, “And thank you to Jungkook and Y/N as well for helping out with my sister’s shop and making the cake. I’m sure it would’ve been a lot more stressful without your help.”   You’re bashful under the attention, but soon enough, the speeches and toasts move onto different people in the room. The maid of honour shares a long story about how the couple met and the best man wishes the pair a wonderful future.    Not long after, the food finally gets served as the wedding singer continues her performance.   You get mashed potatoes as an appetizer and steal part of Jungkook’s scallop dish. He feigns a glare, but then the two of you are splitting each other’s food family style to get a variety of tastes. The main course consists of filet mignon for Jungkook and pumpkin ravioli for you.   You enjoy the meal for the most part, only slightly uncomfortable by the old woman in a floral dress who keeps glancing at you and Jungkook with a smile. And right before dessert is served, the stranger across the table seems to crack.   “How do you two know the bride and groom?” her voice croaks as she nosily asks.   “Oh. We just helped make the wedding cake.”   “We’re the bride’s sister’s interns,” Jungkook adds.   “Nice to meet you.” Her dainty, wrinkled hand shakes your hand and Jungkook’s. “I’m the groom’s great aunt. Such a lovely wedding, isn’t it?”   “Yes, it is.”   “The food’s great too.”   The old woman's eyes glimmer of mirth. “So how long have you both been together?”   You choke on your ravioli — Jungkook wheezes mid-sip of his water, coughing and sputtering. He pounds his chest. The pair of you look at one another, eyes rounded and wide.   “Oh...we’re not...uh….”   “No need to be shy.” Her hand bats the air. “There’s no need to hide anything, don’t worry.”   “Umm...well, we’ve known each other for a while now,” Jungkook says and you give him a look. Technically, it’s not a lie.   “Are you both considering getting married any time soon?”   The proposition gives you whiplash, but after working in the food industry for so long, you’ve perfected maintaining a calm disposition. Even if the smile you offer is stiff. “Oh, no. We’re still very young, so I don’t think so. Not at all.”   “There’s nothing wrong with getting married when you’re young,” she tells. “Back in my day, kids got married at eighteen. Right out of school. Better early than never was always my motto. If you know you’re good for each other, there’s no point in waiting.”   “Uhhh….” You’re not sure what to say to that.   Luckily, Jungkook jumps in and easily uses his infamous Jeon charms. “If I propose too soon, she’ll get bored of me. I’d prefer to keep her on her toes a little while longer.”   The old lady laughs heartily. “That’s a dangerous game, boy. If you don’t put a ring on it soon, she might just run off with another boy and you’d surely regret it then.”   He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. It may not look like it, but she’s head over heels for me. She’d come chasing me.”   That seems to poke the old lady’s funny bone, but your mouth has dropped open. “I would not.”   “Sure about that?” Jungkook smirks impishly. “I might just run off with another miss if you’re not nice enough to me, Y/N.”   “Psh. I’d like to see you try, Jeon Jungkook.”   “You two are just too cute.” The old lady sighs wistfully. “Reminds me of my late husband and I. I know love when I see it.”   The meal eventually ends and the old lady wobbles off to mingle at another table with people she’s more familiar with — but as she bids farewell, she chides Jungkook to marry you already. And when she’s gone, he shifts to wiggle his brows at you.   You tell him that if he gets down on one knee tonight, you’ll slap him.   Fortunately, Jungkook has no such plans. Instead, the pair of you spend your time watching the sunset on the beach. The sky is painted in tangerine and rosy hues, the ocean reflecting the horizon and once it becomes dark enough, all the fairy lights flicker on. The venue becomes illuminated by the dim and soft mosaic of colours.   You feel ticklish and pink inside — stomach full of food, alcohol making it easy to loosen up, the amorous atmosphere a hatchery for hopeless romantics. You watch the first dance, listening to the smooth voice of the wedding singer and the warm sounds of the band. “Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.”   The bride moves in sync with the groom, her dress gliding across the floor. Their hands are clasped together, feet moving slowly, eyes staring at one another. It’s magical to be an observer and it makes you wonder what it’s like to be there, to know you can live the rest of your life with the person you’ve chosen.   When the others trickle onto the dance floor, you watch them too.   And Jungkook soon returns, having gone to the bathroom and then taking a quick walk around. He finds you enjoying yourself in a rare carefree state, simply swaying to the melody in your seat.   His smile becomes tender.   “Go dance.”   You scoff. “I’m not going to dance by myself.”   “Then dance with me.” Jungkook takes your hand, pulling you up on your feet. “Come on,” he convinces when he sees your reluctance. “This is the only time I’ll ever dance. Are you really going to give up on this chance?”   You let him pull you on the floor right as another song begins.    It’s an older song — another slow one — fuzzy sounds that melts all around you. The wedding singer’s voice is sweet, drums providing a steady beat. The staccato of the bass is resonant and velvety with the lithe sound of the piano. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.”   But what should be romantic is terribly awkward.   Jungkook’s hands are placed tensely on your waist while yours are plopped on top of his shoulders. It’s as if you’ve been propelled back to the past — fifteen years old at a school dance with your crush, not sure where to look, how close to be, how to touch one another and be polite about it.    You wince when he steps on your foot.   “Ow.”   “Sorry.”   “I thought you danced, Jeon Jungkook.”   The boy’s brows knit together. “Who says?”   “I thought you could do everything,” you tease and this time, he’s the one lightly scoffing with a small smile tugging at his lips.   Soon, Jungkook steps on your foot again and you mutter cusses in his ear. It makes him laugh, but you swear the third time he steps on your toes, it’s intentional.   “Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The crowd on the dance floor is moving together — old married couples and the young ones holding each other securely to kids twirling with each other. Eventually, the music relaxes you enough that you melt into Jungkook’s arms and he falls into a rhythm, no longer stepping on any toes.    Your arms are looped around his neck, your fingers locked together. His hands are tenderly on the dips of your waist. The two of you sway with one another. There’s nowhere to look but directly into his eyes and you find his gaze fixed onto yours. As if your irises are the most interesting kaleidoscopes in the world.   Jungkook makes you nervous. He makes your palms sweaty, your steps unsure and seemingly unpracticed.   “Can you stop looking at me like that?” you murmur. In this party of people, only he can hear you above the music. It’s much too intimate.   “Like what?”   “Like you love me.”   “But I do love you.”   He tugs you closer and you search his eyes, brows furrowing unintentionally. You quietly scold him, “You can’t say that, Jungkook.”   “Why not?” he asks in a whisper.   “Because what does it mean for us?”   “Can’t friends love each other?”   “I—”   “I’m kidding.” Jungkook smiles gently, the corners of his mouth quirking. “Well, not really.”   The slow song encases you and Jungkook into a private bubble. The dim lights make his doe eyes sparkle even more than usual — like there are actual stars captured within them, like he’s snapped a picture of the night sky on a Summer night and kept them there. “Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear. Just saying this.”   You never realized how much you love Jungkook’s eyes.   “Hey, can I ask you something?” he pipes up again in a gentle murmur as to not disturb the delicate moment between you two. “It’s not about me, but I have a friend who doesn’t really know what to do...”   “What is it?”   “He’s in love with his best friend who’s head over heels for some other guy and is still heartbroken over him even after so much time has passed. My friend really loves her, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they have because it’s important to him.”   You hum a low note, corners of your mouth pulling. “Well, if this best friend is dancing with your friend, sharing the same bed together every night, and spending their days together, she’s probably not heartbroken after that guy anymore.”   Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, not too much that it hurts, but securely enough to keep you from floating away.    He swallows hard. “So you think he should go for it?”   “I think he should take it slow,” you hum. “Even if he values their friendship, once you’ve caught feelings, there’s not much you can do. I have personal experience on this topic, so I would know.”   “Would you now?” A boyish grin spreads into his cheeks, one that makes him look even younger.    “I think this friend of yours should take his chances.” You lean your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat. “Sounds like his best friend might just agree.”   Jungkook holds you close. The two of you sway together, enjoying the moment.   “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The fuzzy song fades as it ends. The last note holds the air. And with it, the spell breaks.   You pull yourself away from Jungkook’s arms, offering a small smile. It’s awkward, so you quickly turn away to return to your spot at the table. But then….   There’s a call of your name—   “Y/N.”   As you spin around, Jungkook tugs you in by your waist. Your lips meet his.   Your mouths collide together right as another song begins — one you don’t pay any attention to, where you can’t even discern the lyrics. Not when your heart rate is pounding in your eardrums.   It’s a soft brush of the surfaces of your lips, a timid touch, but soon, you’re eagerly deepening the kiss. You’re surrounded in Jungkook and everything that is him — the scent of fresh laundry and his cologne, giving into the velvet texture of his soft lips, reveling in the warmth of his skin that brings heat onto your cheeks.   Your hands slink to the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into the little hair there. Your eyes shut and Jungkook sneaks in a long peek at you, soaking in your pleasured expression before his own lids flutter closed. Your nose bumps together and he easily tilts his head, kissing you tenderly, but eagerly underneath the pretty lights.    Jungkook kisses you and kisses you, like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. But really, he should’ve done this a long time ago — maybe that time underneath the mistletoe all those months ago.   So he makes up for the lost time, tasting your lipstick curiously, smearing it shamelessly, getting it all over his own mouth.    It’s hot, breathy, and when the pair of you pull apart, the thin thread of saliva between your mouths break. You stumble back on your heels, catching yourself on weak knees. You try to remember how to breathe properly.   Jungkook’s own chest is heaving and he shakes his head, wearing an infectious smile. He wipes his lips wet with your saliva haphazardly with the back of his hand.   “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that for.”   You laugh, grabbing his tie roughly. You tug your best friend closer. “Then shut up and do it again.”   The both of you are in the middle of the dance floor, underneath the lights, but none of you pay any mind.   This time when Jungkook kisses you, he’s grinning against your mouth and you can’t help but smile too.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

hey hi I've been trying to write something, anything, and what came out is like 3k of an extremely stupid supervillain/superhero story that I’d been kicking around in some form like over ten years ago. it doesn’t map onto any kind of an AU so I guess it’s original fiction? enjoy?

Cityton Chronicles, part 1

The problem with carrying out an evil scheme, thought Edmund, was the scheme part.

Anyone could nurse a sinister thought or two; it wasn't that hard to shake one's fist at the sky and murmur, “You'll pay for this. With God as my witness, oh, you will pay” and then maybe cackle a little. That much was child's play. (Literal child's play; he had witnessed more than a few dire pronouncements from his classmates at Hawthorne Grimmsbury's Academy for Ominous Boys, especially when recess was threatened.)

Actually going through with a plan was a whole different story. There were logistics to manage. There were people to manipulate, details to babysit, hypotheticals to anticipate. The nitty-gritty, as it were.

Edmund was not destined for the nitty-gritty.

Although, wasn't that what useless people always said? “I'm more of a big-picture person.” Maybe he was useless. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe Edmund Malarkey, heir to Malarkey Industries, was simply not cut out for masterminding.

Case in point, he had a terrible feeling he was about to make a complete hash of the Ritual.

The parameters were clear enough: full moon—check. Chalk for pentagrams—check. One hundred lit candles—check. (Some were scented; the store hadn't had enough plain tapers in stock, but the text of the Ritual had been written well before the notion of pumpkin spice was a cozy twinkle in some godless marketer's eye, and so Edmund figured this would probably not disqualify him.) Thirteen hooded figures, all in black...

This was where things got dicey.

The first sign of the trouble to come was when Carl showed up in navy fucking blue.

Edmund pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, breath crystalline in the late November air. The invitations had been so specific.

“It looked pretty dark online,” Carl offered as the wind whipped at them atop the roof of the Cityton Natural History Museum.

“Pretty dark? Pretty dark? Did it look like the blackest black?” said Edmund. “Did it look like Anish Kapur's most haunting nightmare? Did it look like a raven's wing in shadow at the stroke of midnight, Carl?” Carl stuck out his chin. “It's almost black.”

“Yes, and bananas and humans share about sixty percent of their DNA, we're almost cousins,” Edmund told him, dangerously quiet, “but fortunately for you, I'm not going to peel you and eat you in a fruit salad, you buffoonish optimist.”

Edmund should never have relied upon his father's former henchpeople. They were loyal to his father; they looked upon him with bemused tolerance. He should've just gone ahead and recruited all of the necessary twelve people from Craigslist. He'd held off due to a suspicion that anyone he found on the internet would assume the Ritual was fundamentally a weird sex thing, but at least a bunch of kinksters would have probably taken the rules seriously.

He sighed. “Carl, there's a bodega down on the corner. Go buy two black trash bags and make yourself a garbage-robe.” Carl frowned. “Is there time?”

Edmund checked his phone. Eleven fifty-three. “Hurry. And save the receipt.”

Another gust of wind kicked up. Edmund shivered. He'd been smart enough to request a fabric swatch ahead of time from the Etsy store where he'd custom-ordered his own set of hooded black robes. He hadn't stopped to consider how warm—or not—a single layer of said fabric would feel well into autumn, completely unshielded by the elements. Theoretically, he could've crammed a coat under the robes, like a child wearing a Halloween costume in an unseasonably cold October, but no, he hadn't wanted to look bulky.

He checked the candles again, for want of anything better to do.

“Boss,” said a hesitant voice behind him.

“What is it, Stephanie,” said Edmund.

Stephanie had clearly repurposed her teenager's old Hermione costume as her robes, but she had bothered to remove the Hogwarts branding, which was something, at least. Beyond the fact that Edmund didn't feel like giving a repellent transphobe any extra attention, there might have been copyright issues.

“Is that thing about bananas really true?”

“Yeah,” said Edmund. He had read it many years ago, in a book titled 2002 MORE WACKY FACTS TO BLOW YOUR MIND AND AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS, which didn't seem especially pertinent. He did a quick headcount. Even without Carl, they only numbered eleven. “Where's Donna?”

“You should call her,” said Stephanie. “Donna never answers her texts.”

Edmund had been halfway through tapping out a text. Ugh, Boomers. Calling was for emergencies only; everyone knew that. Unfortunately, this qualified. He gritted his teeth and dialed.

Donna answered on the fourth ring. “What?” She sounded groggy.

“Did you,” said Edmund, still through gritted teeth, “forget what night the Ritual was?”

“Oh shit,” mumbled Donna. “Are you sure? I thought it was at noon tomorrow. Carl told me twelve o'clock.”

“At night,” said Edmund. “Twelve o'clock at night, this is a dark incantation to a primordial god, it does not overlap with daytime television.”

Just then, Edmund's phone beeped with another call. “Can you hold, Donna,” he hissed.

“Hey boss,” said Carl, “the bodega only has white or green trash bags, what's my next step?”

“HOLD,” Edmund shouted, switching calls again. “Donna, can you grab an extremely dark-colored robe and be here immediately?”

“Like a bathrobe?” said Donna, sounding lost.

Of course Carl had not bothered to relay the dress code. Of course he hadn't even managed to hand her the painstakingly crafted invitation. Edmund had used the nicest card stock available to him, not that it mattered.

“Uh, boss?” Leroy called over the roar of the wind. Edmund flexed his stiffening fingers.

“One second, Donna,” said Edmund.

“How much longer is this gonna be?” said Leroy. “Because I was gonna catch the late show tonight—”

“Watch it on YouTube the next day like a normal person!” Edmund snapped. “Donna—”

“I can be there by 12:40,” said Donna through the tinny phone speaker. “There's some errands I wanna run first.”

“It's the middle of the night, what errands!” said Edmund. “Donna, hold—” He switched back to Carl. “Listen, are you sure there aren't any black trash bags?”

“White or green only,” Carl affirmed. “Some of them are scented, do you think that would make a difference?”

“Boss,” said Frank from the other side of the roof, “we lost the chalk?”

“Hold on, Carl,” said Edmund. “What?”

“It was here a second ago!” “Did you secure the chalk against the wind?”

“What?” said Frank.

“The chalk, it's cylindrical!” Edmund managed to shout. “Did you do anything so it wouldn't just roll straight off the roof?”

Somewhere above the din of wind came the sound of a half dozen pieces of sidewalk chalk landing on the street five stories below and shattering.

Edmund buried his (cold) face in his (frozen) hands.

“Uh boss,” said Stephanie. “It's 12:01.”

Edmund sighed. The primordial god K'h'gg'ragel might have allowed for some creative interpretations on Ritual-adjacent matters, but everyone knew K'h'gg'ragel was a stickler for punctuality.

“Alright,” said Edmund, pitching his voice to carry. “Pack it in, we'll try again next full moon.”

“Phew,” said Leroy, who was wearing a thick downy jacket over his robes, and a hat with earflaps, and mittens. “It's cold out.”

“I FOUND A BLUE ONE!” Carl shouted from the speaker. “IS THAT ANY BETTER?”

Edmund turned his phone off.

Lighting and strategically placing one hundred candles had been something of an undertaking. Blowing them all out alone and stuffing them back into a series of duffel bags was somehow worse. Edmund was about half-done when he heard a distinct whirring buzz. He looked up.

It was Dragonfly. Of course it was Dragonfly, heading right for him.

Great. Edmund's first-ever showdown was going to be a one-on-one against a superhero armed with a jetpack, one hell of a punch, and electrified darts. Edmund was going to get flattened, and all before he even got the chance to point out that the darts and for that matter the punching didn't fit with the overall insect theme. 

“Hey man,” said Dragonfly, dropping effortlessly down to the roof of the museum. “I saw the lights from the sky, thought I'd investigate.”

They weren't fighting yet. Why weren't they fighting? Edmund's whole body fizzed with adrenaline. Also, cold. Either way, he was shaking a little, and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“And what, strike another heroic blow against the terror that is a bunch of sweater-themed Yankee Candles?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly shrugged. His costume included a bottle-green moto jacket and gloves. It looked warm, in a way that made Edmund feel even colder. “Sweater candles? What, like burning wool?” he said.

Privately, Edmund had wondered about that too. This, he decided obscurely, was another strike against Dragonfly.

“Maybe burning wool smells phenomenal,” said Edmund instead, rocking forward. “There's no way you could possibly know, unless you're here to tell me you've lit a sheep on fire, which seems well outside your whole—” he waved his hands vaguely “—moral compass.”

“Word travels fast,” said Dragonfly gravely. “I am foursquare against sheep-burning. Always have been.”

Edmund squared his shoulders. “So, are we doing this, or what?”

From behind his signature oversized goggles, Dragonfly's brow seemed to furrow slightly. “Doing what?”

“Fighting,” said Edmund. He had to grind his teeth together to keep them from chattering.

“Ah,” said Dragonfly after a pause. “Oh. Um. Okay. Here's the thing?” He steepled his fingers. “You seem unarmed. You're not hurting anyone. You're also not committing any crimes.” Edmund opened his mouth to protest, and Dragonfly continued, “Or, okay, you're trespassing on the museum, I guess, technically, but it's not like you're even trying to sneak into an exhibit without paying.”

“I am here,” said Edmund firmly, “to perform a terrible and arcane Ritual which will summon—”

“Yeah?” said Dragonfly. “Where's your followers? Where's your summoning chalk? It's well past midnight and the only sign of any occult activity I can see is the candles, but for all I know, you were just up here trying to have a little me-time, which, like, on some level I get, you know?”

“So,” said Edmund blankly, “what now?” He had given up on trying to tense his jaw. His upper and lower teeth clacked rhythmically against each other.

“I give you a stern verbal warning about what's probably a minor fire hazard and recommend that you enjoy the museum from the inside, during business hours, with a ticket,” said Dragonfly. “I hear they have a great exhibit on prehistoric mammals. In the meantime, get somewhere warm, okay? Your lips are turning blue.” “Fuck off,” Edmund more or less managed to say through his shivers.

Dragonfly spread his hands, placating. “Fair enough.” He began to walk away. At the edge of the roof, he hesitated. “Uh, do you have a way down?”

“Obviously,” said Edmund.

“Yeah,” said Dragonfly. “Uh, okay.” They regarded each other. “What is it?” said Dragonfly after a few seconds.

Edmund froze. Or well, he was already half-frozen. Edmund stopped moving, was the point.

Apparently interpreting Edmund's silence as helplessness, Dragonfly offered dubiously, “I could carry you down?”

“How,” said Edmund, flat. It was the wrong thing to say, in that it wasn't 'No,' or 'Fuck off' again, something sensible like that, but damn it, he was freezing, and if he gave up the way he'd gotten everyone onto the roof, then this whole fucking evening was going to be a wash. He had tried so hard. It wasn't fair.

Dragonfly took a step closer. “Fireman or bridal?”

Edmund tried and failed to parse this three separate times in his cold-fuzzed brain. “Is that a meme?” he settled on finally.

“Do you,” said Dragonfly, “have a preference on how I carry you.”

“We haven't even established that you're going to,” Edmund said. Clackity clackity clack went his traitorous teeth.

Dragonfly sighed. “I can't leave you up here,” he said. “One, if I let you keep hanging out on the roof of the history museum, then technically I'm kinda aiding and abetting your whole trespassing situation. Two, it is really fucking chilly up here, and if you freeze to death, then that's on me. Which is also not, like, great for my conscience.”

“So I don't have a choice,” Edmund spat.

“You totally have a choice,” said Dragonfly. He tilted his head to the side. “Hell, you could do me a solid and just exit using whatever secret method you entered with, but I have a feeling mum's the word on that particular angle.”

This Dragonfly character was smarter than he looked. Of course, he was a grown man who fought crime dressed as a giant insect. The bar was not particularly high.

“Mum's the word?” Edmund echoed. “What are you, ninety?”

“I'm an old fucking soul, dude,” said Dragonfly. “Point being, you don't trust me not to watch you leave the roof. Which is hurtful, frankly. I'm not sure I trust you not to stay up here out of pure stubbornness. If I give you a quick boost down, then it's problem solved and we can both go about our nights. Crime-fighting for me, and for you hopefully a pile of blankets and whatever warm food rich people eat. Mashed potatoes? With...caviar?”

This clearly did not merit a response. Dragonfly knew who Edmund was, apparently. Most people did.

“What if you drop me?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly laughed. He had a nice laugh. It was yet another point against him, somehow. “Don't you think that might go against my whole—” he gestured with both hands “moral compass?”

Edmund recognized his own words being used against him. On the other hand, the thought of a hot meal and, moreover, central heating beckoned.

“I don't care,” Edmund said at last.

“What?” said Dragonfly.

“Bridal or fireman's carry,” said Edmund. “I don't care.”

Dragonfly nodded sagely. “Let's get this over with, then,” he said. “Hey, d’you want help with your candles?”

Did he? He didn't want to want help with his candles, but that was another question. On the other hand, if Edmund accepted Dragonfly's aid, it would shave off valuable minutes of this excruciating headache. The backs of Edmund's knees were cold. It was absurd.

“Fine,” said Edmund.

“Huh,” said Dragonfly several minutes later. “This one's rain-scented, and this one's Ocean Spray, and yet they smell nothing alike.”

Dragonfly had without fail commented on every single scented candle in the bunch. Edmund looked up from his umpteenth taper candle, momentarily distracted from the knifelike chill.

“Rain and ocean are two completely different things,” said Edmund. “The surrounding environment, the vibe, the salt content.”

“The vibe, I grant you,” said Dragonfly. “But salt, really? Have you ever smelled salt before?”

“The ocean has a smell,” Edmund insisted. His family had summered on the coast every year before—well. Before last year. He mostly remembered the sea as having a whiff of fish about it, which didn't sound promising for a candle, but it was the principle of the thing.

Dragonfly shrugged. “You've got me there,” he said. “Never been.” Cityton was only about an hour's drive from the beach. Edmund wasn't sure he knew anyone who had never visited at least once, for a long weekend at least. Of course, it wasn't like Edmund knew Dragonfly. He didn't even know what Dragonfly's eyes looked like.

Edmund blew out another few tapers.

“This one's just called Singing Carols,” Dragonfly announced. “Guess what it smells like, I dare you.”

And so on.

In the end, Dragonfly carried Edmund off the roof of the Natural History Museum scooped under the armpits, the way you might hold a cat if you were engaging in some light cat-related horseplay. The mechanical dragonfly wings were well-made, Edmund could admit that much; Dragonfly didn't seem to have any issue bearing Edmund's weight or the combined weight of the candles, and their feet gently touched the ground after only a few seconds. It was already slightly warmer—or at least slightly less freezing—on street-level.

Dragonfly let go and stepped back immediately. This close, Edmund could see that his lips were pretty badly chapped. It made sense that someone who donated all their time to—again—flitting around town trying to right every minuscule so-called wrong while dressed like a bug wouldn't be experienced enough with self-care to be acquainted with a good lip balm, but the thought made Edmund weirdly a little sad.

His sense of deeply ingrained politeness warred against the equally powerful urge to be a real bastard about the whole thing. In the end, politeness won out, by the very skin of its mannerly little teeth.

“Thank you for not dropping me to my almost certain death,” Edmund gritted out with extreme reluctance. He stared over Dragonfly's shoulder as he said it.

Nevertheless, for some awful reason, for just that moment, it felt a little like the end of a date.

“Right,” said Dragonfly. “Right. Well then. Happy trails.” He seemed to consider this. “Or you know, if doing crimes is what makes you happy, then for the sake of Cityton, let's say, mediocre trails. Do you wanna borrow my gloves?”

“Why,” said Edmund flatly.

Even though the goggles completely obscured much of the upper half of Dragonfly's face, Edmund had the distinct sense that a disbelieving stare was being leveled at him.

“For your hands? You know, the traditional office of gloves?”

As the scion of Malarkey Industries, Edmund was long accustomed to being hated for who he was. Hated, feared, not-too-secretly envied. And lately: mocked, dismissed, his family name transmuted into a juicy, low-hanging punchline for lazy late night writers.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been pitied before. It did not sit well.

“I'll warm my hands on the fires of hell while I plot your demise, you miserable fool,” growled Edmund.

“Yikes,” said Dragonfly easily. “Well, I'm off.” And with that, he took to the sky.

Edmund curled his fingers into the sleeves of his stupid, summer-weight summoner's robes and started back towards what remained of his home.

[mihidecet]

SBI d&d AU: Tommy (1)

Here it is! Tommy’s pov really put the hamster inside my brain in a splendid mood, so his story is currently split into two (might be three, depending on how much more I’m willing to indulge my craving for found family dynamics). I’m probably going to post the second part in a couple of weeks (I’m trying to stick to a schedule, but uni has started again today so who knows).

Thank you all for your likes, reblogs and comments on the last post, I really appreciate them!

Also, as some of you might already know, I’ve been working on character sheets for all of them too. I’m working on the written backgrounds at the moment, but if all goes right I should post the first one next week! Who would you want to see first: Techno, Phil, Tommy or Wilbur?

[Also I should mention, there are a handful of swears, mentions of blood and a not-so-quick description of a dagger, but not as it’s being used for anything bad. Let me know if you’d like me to highlight anything specific to make it easier to skip.]

You should kneel down soon, kiddo. The voice in his head tells him. Usually one would not have voices suggesting what to do or do not, but that was the life of Tommy since he'd agreed to eat a bloody apple and suddenly gained horns and a tail. That was just something that happened to him nowadays. But again, one was not necessarily made to follow said suggestions: he usually either ignored whatever had been said or sassed back - that was just the kind of relationship he had with his patron.

I'm not a child, old man. He answered, in his mind in order to avoid Wilbur's curious glances, and only heard a distorted chuckle in response.

I'm just trying to help you out! You should, totally, profit is guaranteed! Tommy rolled his eyes, huffing out in annoyance at both his insistence and the warped voice he was currently talking in. Go figure that, of all the demons he could have made a pact with, Tommy had chosen the most annoyingly nagging one. Who even used their godlike power to change their voices to unnatural pitches?

Come on, Tommy! Trust me on this! Come oon! The dragged out "on" was extremely aggravating, but just because his patron was bored he wasn't going to amuse him. He had more important things to do, like planning out what to do once they'd reached the apparently haunted mansion in the middle of a forest they were heading towards. If one was to ask Tommy, he'd say that it was just the job of a bunch of thieves, maybe an enchanter, using the abandoned mansion as a base of operations and scaring away wandering people. Everyone had seemed to agree with his idea - hell, even Wilbur had said it had been a good hunch!

Five ... Four ... Didn't he have some other poor soul to torture? Some unlucky fellow to trick into a deal? And was the echoey voice necessary? Did he really need to sound as if he was shouting from inside a cave?

Come on kiddo- Three ... Two ... Almost there! One ...

"ALRIGHT!" Tommy yelled out, stomping his foot down in anger, flames bursting out his hands as his eyes flashed golden and - despite what his stubbornness told him - he bent down.

He hadn't even fully bent his knees when an arrow lodged itself into his hood, which was slightly raised in respect to his head due to the quickness with which he had moved.

"Ohshit-"

"Who the fuck is attacking us?" Techno asked over him, tone impassible and as monotone as always, holding another arrow just in front of his face; he seemed more bothered by the thought that someone was trying to attack them than the fact that somebody had shot an arrow at him.

You're welcome, kid. His patron quipped, finally in his normal voice, before retreating to the back of his mind as Tommy summoned energy between his hands, ready to blast into nothingness whoever had been dumb enough to try to kill him.

Tommy wakes up one morning, and the first thing he sees is the sky. This is because, since he agreed to sell his soul for instant magical powers, he has a distinctively cumbersome pair of horns, which prevent him from sleeping on his side comfortably. A small price to pay, since honestly, who even has the time to spend years studying when you can just shake hands, eat an apple and be set for life?

Since they've stopped being a couple of stubby nubs on the side of his head, he also has to wear a pair of muffs over them, in order to avoid destroying his pillow in case he moves more than an inch while he sleeps. He's gathered enough evidence of how much damage he's able to cause to last a lifetime, so he endures Techno's chuckles at his hand-knitted, sock-looking muffs - damn Wilbur for using wool, it's not like his horns ever get cold.

Anyhow. The first thing he sees, is the sky. The second thing he sees is a knife sticking out of the ground next to his head.

Tommy stares at it, figuring he's either still dreaming or his patron has gotten better at his dream-messages - on top of annoying him during the day and giving him advices once every blue moon, he also enjoys sending him extremely cryptic messages through dreams, which Tommy usually forgets by the time he's awake.

He figures it has to be a dream, because sticking out of the ground next to his head is a perfectly clean and sharpened Technoblade Dagger. Thin, sleek, made in a peculiar metal that looks completely black at all time, as if it was capable of absorbing light. Rumors say it was forged with the core of a fallen star; others say it's made of the blood of his fallen enemies which Tommy finds extremely disgusting and definitely unpractical. The handle is simple, with no added leather - Technoblade always says that leather stains easily and is more a bother than anything actually useful.

But the thing is, that's not all.

Tied to the knife is also a string of white, orange and red strings. A small onyx bead is woven inside.

Aww, look! You got yourself- the voice in his head starts, but Tommy is quick to put a stop to it.

Shut up, this is important. He states, tone firm and serious, just like he was when he demanded his pact a few years before. His patron and him joke around and annoy each other a lot, but he knows that tone, so for the next few moments everything is quiet. Around him, the only sound is of the wind, flowing through the leaves, and the crackling fire, courtesy of Phil, who is probably preparing breakfast for all if the delicious smell wafting over is any indication. Tommy hears everything and nothing around him, while all his attention is focused on 1) the token of friendship innocently sitting next to him 2) trying not to yell out at the pure joy he is feeling right now. This is approval. This is acceptance. This is the confirmation that he is, in all ways, part of this team.

I know, kid. I'm glad you found yourself some good friends.

Tommy huffs out a breath, unable to stop himself from smiling - he does not need his patron's approval, but it is still very much appreciated. The demon's helped him a lot, in his own weird demonic way.

The warlock snatches up both items and mutters an excuse as he quickly makes his way towards the river next to their camp.

The first thing he needs to do is find a good place to keep the bracelet.

The thing is, he can't keep it on his wrist. They get into too many nasty places, he is definitely *not* going to let it get soiled by dirt, blood or sewer water - Tommy also does not want to think about the sewers ever again, but that is a rather common and expected reaction. His ankle is also not a good choice, because of all the walking and trudging in the mud they do.

He's not going to keep it in his pack either, he want it close. He's sentimental about it, sue him.

Do not even start. He thinks intensely, anticipating what his patron could have said about his previous thought, but he gets no answer. Whatever. It's better that way.

His arm, he figures, could be the best choice. The bracelet seems to be long enough for him to be able to tie it around his upper arm, and that way his shirt would keep it covered constantly. Not to mention, his cloak also rests over that area. It would be safe and sound, and nobody would be none the wiser!

Tommy sits down by the river and starts working on it: he struggles a bit with actually tying the knot to keep it in place, but after a couple of minutes he's sure it will hold.

Then, satisfied with his work, he stands up and tries to throw the knife in the air and catch it. He does end up letting out a small yelp and letting it tumble to the ground, but he's sure he'll be able to pull it off in time.

"Technoblade!" He calls out loudly, coming back to the round space they decided to call a camp for a night. The thief doesn't even look up, but he does let out a questioning "hmm?" as his ears twitch up.

"Thank you for the wonderful gift! I'll use it wisely!" Tommy exclaims, pointing the dagger straight at his face. Techno turns towards him, nonplussed, and stares at him through the dagger. A moment passes, then Techno raises an eyebrow and moves the point of the blade away from his face with his index finger.

"Great. How about you start by remembering not to point it at allies?"

"Pfft, of course, of course! It was merely a display of how much I'm already able to use it! I bet I could even defeat you, now!" He declares, turning towards Phil's already ready breakfast and digging in, ignoring Techno's rebuttal of him needing to train for many more years in order to have a chance at defeating him, and most importantly Phil's amused and endeared expression.

The druid can read him too well: he already knows. For what Tommy knows, being an elf he probably has a way of seeing the bracelet under his sleeves from like, the way the material bends around it.

But as he scarfs down his food, he's already hatching a plan. Because while he wants to flaunt his newly gained social status, he does also want to keep this ... for himself. This isn't something he wants to share with the world. The fact that he went from being an annoyingly persistent kid to a friend of Technoblade is a personal success. It's just ... His.

What he can do, instead, is brag about having one of Technoblade's daggers. And what if he exaggerates a bit on how he got it? Who's going to correct him and say that it was actually just a mean to deliver to him a friendship bracelet?

Nobody, that's who.

Of course, he needs just one test to make sure it's going to work. It takes some time, but they eventually reach a small town. Wilbur takes care of securing a room for them all, and a discount in exchange for him performing.

Then, one late evening, they're waiting for their food to be delivered at their table, and Tommy is idly playing with Techno's dagger - he has now gotten extremely better at it, and can now not only flip it in air, but also balance it on the tip of his finger.

A bulky man with a coarse looking mustache brings them their dinner, and eyes Tommy as he keeps playing.

He meets his eyes, and his plan falls into place.

"Did you know, good sir, that this is one of the infamous Technoblade's daggers? My prize for besting him in a duel."

Next to him, Wilbur chokes on his beer and spits it all over his fresh loaf of bread. Phil is laughing as he pats his back, and the bartender eyes him suspiciously, apparently ticked off by his teammates's reactions.

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely! Isn't it, Techno?"

Everyone falls silent - except for Wil, who keeps coughing up beer for a while longer - and turns towards Techno, who seems startled at the sudden amount of eyes on him. This is it, the moment of truth. Everything comes down to what Techno answers now, because this could either be Tommy's best, most glorious moment, or a simply rather awkward instance. A moment passes, then-

"Absolutely." Techno's monotone voice answers, and the suspicion on the bartender's face changes to surprise, then impressed respect as he nods towards Tommy.

"Good job, kid." He says, then leaves their table, and Tommy couldn't be happier.

The game is on.

[samiwok]

social media au ; ndiy

12 || funfair II

~li’s notes~ okayyyy soooo looks like it’s time to have some explanation mhhh

funfair || 11 <-

-> 13 || funfair III

written part

“Are you okay ?”

That voice. You could recognize it between a thousand elses. You raised your head slowly, scared of looking at him, because you knew who it was.

You saw him, crouched right next to you. His green eyes went wide when he saw you.

“Yn! S-so Y-you’re here too” he wasn’t able to say something else at this very moment. It’s been a few days already since Iwaizumi got back to Japan but he wasn’t expecting to see you now. He wasn’t expecting to meet you again in the middle of this funfair. But here you were, and here he was. Was it fate ? He thought. But he chased this idea from his mind quickly. He didn’t have the right to think you were fated to be with him. It would be your choice and only yours, not the destiny’s. Now you were both looking at each other. You couldn’t hear anything anymore now. No words. No music. Nothing. Nothing except your breath and your fast heartbeat ringing into your ears.

He got up slowly. Still looking at you and arms stretched to help you getting up, his eyes weren’t getting off of you. You pushed his hands to get up by yourself without his help. You could feel the disappointment on his face as he slipped his hands in the pockets of his jacket. You were now standing in front of him.

Facing him and looking into his eyes, all you could feel was his sadness. You shook your head as to escape your thoughts because if you listened to your feelings right now, you would already be jumping into his arms. No. You were still upset. But the fact is, you missed him. You missed him so bad. And even tho he was right there, even tho the 5400 miles of distance between you reduced to one meter; you were still missing him.

“I.. uh I need us to talk. Please.” He started and you looked away. Did you want to have this conversation ? But moreover, did you want to have it right here and right now ? Was it the good moment for you to listen to his explanation ? Probably not.

“No I..” you started to say.

~You should talk with Iwaizumi so you can move on~

Shit. Why Kenma’s words had to come back into your mind right now ? He was right, you thought. You interrupted yourself in the middle of your sentence and as you were about to answer to him, somebody pushed you accidentally. You almost fell but he caught you. His hands on your hips, the music, the moon, the party atmosphere surrounding you and his beautiful eyes staring at your lips. It was as if the questions you were both asking yourselves fade away suddenly, letting all space to the sexual tension growing between you two.

“Hajime.” You whispered

“Yn.”

You got back to your place, distancing your body from his and he let you go without saying anything, still facing you.

“Alright let’s talk. I guess I need it to end this”

Ouch. It hurts to hear the word end coming from you as you’re talking about your relationship with him. That’s what he was feeling but yes, he screwed up when he tried to avoid the confrontation at Los Angeles and he probably deserved this now. You started walking but a group of people, going to the big wheel of the funfair forced you to follow them unconsciously.

“How many people are you ?” The guy in charge of the ride asked to Iwaizumi

“Uh no it’s an error we aren’t..”

“Two.” You said without thinking.

Iwaizumi turned to you, frowning and not understanding why the hell you would want to go on the big wheel with him. You didn’t add anything, just waiting for him to pay which he did. And you got in the ride. There was only the two of you in what looked like a cabin. You were sitting in front of him instead of being next to him.

You were both looking at the view as the wheel started its turn. It was silent. So silent that you could hear the other people on the other cabins talking.

“Look babe this is so beautiful, I love Tokyo” a male’s voice said

“Well, I love you.” a woman answered, probably the one answering to the nickname “babe”

“I love you too. You’re adorable being scared of heights.” The man answered, mocking

Iwaizumi laughed softly when he heard that. You looked at him discreetly. At least that’s what you thought, because he looked at you too. Both caught up. You laughed, feeling calmer than before.

“Do you love him ?” He asked, facing you. His face was tainted of purple, blue and red neon lights. He was looking right into your eyes. He gulped. Probably scared of what your answer would be

“Hajime...”

“Yn I need to know it. You don’t get it, I feel so bad thinking I made you suffer. I don’t sleep or only three or four hours per night. When a girl talks to me, all I can think about is you. I don’t want anyone else but you. All I think of is you being mine again. I need you in my life. I need to know if you need me in yours. Because if you don’t, I’ll let you go.”

“Did you want to sleep with her this night ?”

“Never Yn, oh my god. She kissed me, I rejected her right after and blocked her everywhere. You must trust me”

You sighed. Thinking about all this. He seemed to be honest. After all, he always was. Since the beginning of your relationship he’d even tell you his smallest mistakes. He’d apologize for not answering to your I love you’s when he was at a party. He’d apologize for forgetting to warn you when he was out with some friends.

“I trust you. I do, Hajime but... why did you go see her ?” You asked. Yeah it was probably the main question that came to your mind the night you see other lips on your boyfriend’s.

“She was having a long distance relationship at this moment, so I thought she could give me advices about it since you were about to leave. It was a mistake and I want to repeat you how sorry I am about this.”

You sighed. Looking at the view and the wheel blocked suddenly, while you were at the highest point. Your hands were shaking. Scared of the heights. Iwaizumi knew it well. He got up to come and sit closer to you. He took your hands in his. His hands were thick, warm, and reassuring right now.

“It’s okay yn, I’m here and I won’t leave you alone” he comforted you

You closed your eyes a little moment before looking at him again. You didn’t answer to his question yet and you were scared to give him your answer. Did you even have one to give him ? A lot of questions were harassing your brain. And you knew he would insist to have his answer sooner or later.

“Why do you do this ? Why do you complicate things for me Hajime...”

masterlist

[ taglist ] — @ongjaewonx @bokukiyoom @vrthngiwnt @meepeo @momoinot @cactuski6 @tofu-and-aesthetic @bap-kingdom @daphneiris514 @noodlenerd101 @ravioliplease @eixelb27 @iwaizumi-chan @iwaigroomi @iiwah @supremebage1 @doggonudez @lilacshouko @energetic-tangerine @fuckoffyoutoad @fait-de-fleurs @oikawalmart-hq @parisaanelia @svtbitch @im-the-ruler-here @stainedjournals @xanaxdeity @kwdflash @shegrewupwithoutafather @huhkaashi @cuddlesslut @kynyta @pikawol @azgucci @settingsugas @celinaaaaa @haiq-trash @starry-magicshop @zarawkward @fallingw-angel @makkihoe @ktbio @mirakeul @uwusketit09 @wansseul @queen-lilith-ricker @seokookchan @ideshine @ynjimenez

~ TAGLIST OPEN ~

[durotoswrites]

For the writing meme thingy: 🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write? 🍑 do you/would you write smut? 📒 any fics planned?

🍄 How do you get yourself in the mood to write?

Getting in the mood to write and actually wanting to sit down and start writing are two very different things, but they're connected, so I'll explain both.

To set into “creative mode” it helps me to do these things:

Listen to music that makes me think of a character/situation in my story/stories. I've got playlists separated by character and pairing. Sometimes I also just work on curating those playlists for fun and get my brain going.

Bounce overall ideas off of my friends and husband/editor (but he's my best friend, too 💗)

Reread old chapters or recent ones and future snippets based on what I want to do.

Once I actually want to put words down, I get a little more strict with myself. I get distracted verrrry easily sometimes and I have to fight the urge to open a million more tabs when researching a small detail.

I move to instrumental music (I have playlists for different moods like “emotional”, “soft”, “sad”, etc. I usually listen to “soft” as a general soothing background sound, as I can get pretty dang emotional when I write, especially with the stuff I've been churning out lately.

So, yeah, I need tissues within reach if I get upset. (Wow, I'm not making this sound fun at all, lmao)

After sound has been established, I like to eat a snack (something with protein) because I can be under for hours, lol. Eat it and finish it. Otherwise, I get distracted.

I also like to have drinks available. I always have a bottle of water, but I also like having a hot cup of tea. I think it's the time of year for me to switch to cold barley tea.

I write while seated on a recliner with my feet up. I have my laptop on a lap desk and it's a pretty cozy setup.

I basically try to remove any excuse I have to get up once I start writing, because I am the worst procrastinator I know.

🍑Do you/would you write smut?

Heheh... heck yeah, I do. Waaaaay more than most people realize. Stuff I've actually posted? It's pretty limited. I posted a couple pieces (Let Me Love You and You're Like the Sunshine) a few years ago, but I've been practicing ever since. One of my planned stories literally has what I refer to as a “smut dump” in the draft where I've been experimenting with writing different moods. I like the intimate scenes to play a role in the overall plot or have it be a bonding experience.

Despite that, I do have a shameless Gray x Mary story I should just get out there that has zero plot, just two cuties in love. In my mind it's so naughty and kinky and I get flustered thinking about it (Mary is hot, okay?), but it's probably hella vanilla, lmao. I really am grateful that people have been really supportive about my writing smut despite what I usually write, and they've been so encouraging, too! I honestly feel like the smut I've posted is really stilted because I was so self-conscious about it. I don't feel like they are terrible for first attempts, but I have definitely grown more comfortable writing it.

Will The Shy Newcomer become explicit? I kinda really want it to, but I might separate the chapters for those who don't care for that content. Overall, I'd like to write more and post more, and I want to write more than just male x female smut as well. I have some of those in my planned pieces (more about them later).

📒 Any Fics Planned?

Firstly, I'm super tickled more than one person was interested in this. I copied the answer I wrote earlier.

Short answer: Yes. I also plan to bring more of my stories over from ffn to Ao3.

Long answer under the cut, heheh. I rambled quite a bit.

Ask me about my writing processes and stories!

I have so many WIPs that haven’t been touched in years that I’d like to finish, so new planned fics aren’t posted yet. Some of them have more adult themes than most of the stuff I’ve been writing, so I get flustered sharing them. I’ve been at a crossroads, as I feel that you can’t have growth without changing things up. On the other hand, I feel like a lot of my readers associate my works with a specific “wholesome” feel-good mood. It’s kinda nice to be known for something, although that might just be my ego talking, thinking that people recognize my work as a “type”.

Regardless, in the end, I feel growth is necessary.

I don’t want to leave a lot of unfinished WIPs waiting because they stress me out and I have too many of them already, so I’d like to have a bulk of my new stories with a good chunk written before I decide to post them.

Among those include:

A longfic featuring Pete’s farm in Forget-Me-Not Valley (A blend of HMDS with the FoMT plugin and AWL). It takes place in the same universe as The Shy Newcomer (Claire in Mineral Town) and there are a few overlapping moments, although Pete’s story starts first. Pete’s personality is verrry different from Claire’s, and his story was kind of supposed to be the yang to TSN’s yin. Pete’s best friends in his story are Ruby (not sure if I’m adding Tim yet), Nami, and Rock. Readers will be treated to a poorly-socialized pre-Mineral Town Cliff (if you think he was bad at the beginning of TSN, well… heh… he’s a wreck here).

Another planned unpublished story is a crossover of Harvest Moon and the movie “In This Corner of the World”, based on a manga of the same name by Fumiyo Kouno. It was written as a gift for a friend. I have the entire outline figured out and have slowly been filling it in. My friend asked for an AU where Claire and Cliff have an arranged marriage and live with his family in Akiyama, the hometown I had created for Cliff in The Shy Newcomer. I took the opportunity to expand the characters in his family. I have it written during the same time period and society as “In This Corner of the World”, but had decided to write a spreading disease as an allegory for war, but then COVID happened and some parts of it just got really hard to write. There are also a lot of sexually explicit content as Claire slowly grows and learns from her spouse that it’s okay to express what she wants despite sex being a taboo issue. If there’s enough interest in the story, I’ll post it, but I worry it’s a little too niche for there to be many people into it.

Pastor Carter and Doctor Trent are one of my favorite rare pair ships. I’ve had a partial draft for a story about them for a few years now, especially focusing on Trent growing up and acknowledging that he has an unhealthy addiction for things that he knows he can’t have. There are some more adult/sexual themes in this piece, too, including the main character lusting after a married woman (who also happens to be his patient) and some lemons. (Does anyone call it that anymore or is it just referred to as “smut” nowadays? Haha) I always feel so bad for neglecting the folks at the clinic in-game and wanted to write a piece that focused more on them, Trent specifically. It’s a multi-chap fic, but I don’t think I’m going to let it get as long as some of my other pieces.

I also really want to write a short romantic oneshot for every marriage candidate in Mineral Town, around 1,000 words each. So far, I have one for Cliff and one for Gray. I want to write Claire with everyone, because I think it would be fun to explore all the different personalities.

I have more installments planned for A Single Day, including a day in the life of the following characters, all with drafts in varying degrees of progress:

Anna

Doug

Nora (yes, I’m writing from the point of view of the cat living at the inn)

More to come – I think Lillia and Thomas would be especially interesting to explore

I do still have that Legend of Zelda Majora’s Mask piece I’ve been pondering where Link befriends the soul of the deku scrub child while possessed by the mask. I don’t have much written about it, but I really love the world of Majora’s Mask. Such a fun game.

I also think about the lead carpenter’s son in Ocarina of Time and that weird side quest involving the blue chicken and the son being lost to the forest. Then that unique-looking kokiri girl explaining that all who get taken in the lost woods become stalfos. Like, did the guy die? Was he sick? Did he want to die? There’s just so much going on there that would be fun to explore.

I also have played OMORI recently and have like… A LOT of feelings about it. I don’t know what I’d write, but I’m still damn impressed at how well the characters are developed in such a short game.

Other games I’ve had vague ideas about writing for include the following:

The Flame in the Flood: I’m thinking a survivalist/action story fleshing out Scout’s backstory a bit more and her thoughts as she’s traveling. I feel like she’s a very lonely person, but isn’t given the chance to really dwell on it.

Night In the Woods: I’d love to write more about Mae’s dreams and what they mean to her. She doesn’t really talk to anyone about them openly, so it’s really hard to tell her feelings about them in some regards. We know that she’s distressed about them, but I’d like to dive a little deeper. Do the nightmares end after the games does? What about Bea’s new nightmares?

Hades (Supergiant Games): I think it would be fun to write more about the events that take place before the game starts, like Zagreus’s duties in the house of Hades, and expand on the strained relationship with his father.