#it might eventually turn into a full fic lol

[butternutt613]

As I'm writing this ABO fic I am realizing that I cannot write anything without providing all the background information lmao

I'm at over 3000 words and they've only just met as wolves hhhh

It's supposed to be a one shot 😂😂

It's all for you @witchyafterdark

Also this is dethawing my feral 14yo self that lived off of abo fics and angst

Edit: Its here!! AO3

[msilwrites]

Midnight Snack Mystery (Simon 'Ghost' Fic) Part 1

Wife! Reader Pregnant! Reader Hungry! Reader Possessive! Ghost Possessive! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Possessive! Simon Ghost Riley Good Cook! Simon Ghost Riley Husband! Simon 'Ghost' Riley Hungry Wife! Reader. By this time he is already Captain or Major! or Lieutenant Col! Simon 'Ghost' Riley

 Part 2,  Part 3

Long, not so-long, but light hearted read. Warning: Don't read when hungry!! Summary: Pregnant with Simon's child, Y/N experiences intense late-night cravings. Her overprotective husband, Simon, keeps a close eye on her, ensuring she’s well taken care of. However, Y/N discovers a late-night noodle shop that serves her favorite foods—dumplings and noodles—and she can’t resist the temptation. She sneaks out in the dead of night for quick food runs, careful not to wake Simon. But Simon, ever the observant one, eventually catches her in the act and decides he’s not letting her sneak off again without a word.

----------

Midnight Snack Bust

Simon stirred slightly in his sleep, his instincts sharper than most even when off-duty. The weight on his chest—a comforting one—shifted, then disappeared altogether.

His eyes fluttered open in the darkness. Your side of the bed was empty, the covers pushed back, a slight chill left in their absence. Simon frowned. This wasn’t the first time.

He waited, still as a statue, listening for any sound that might tell him where you’d gone. The faint creak of the stairs gave you away.

Downstairs, you shuffled around the kitchen, carefully balancing a plate of toast smothered in butter, jam and honey. The thought of waking Simon was laughable—he was always in full protective mode, which meant no late-night snacks for you unless he hovered like a helicopter. Besides, you could handle it. The kitchen wasn’t that far from the bed.

Except, as you turned with your snack in hand, there he was.

Simon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a shadowy figure of unimpressed authority. The glow from the fridge cast just enough light for you to see his raised brow.

“Really?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You froze like a deer caught in headlights, the plate in your hands trembling slightly. “I was hungry.”

“You could’ve woken me.”

“It’s toast, Simon. I think I can manage toast.”

He stepped forward, his size practically swallowing the kitchen whole. “Not about the toast, love. It’s about the stairs. And you bein’ pregnant. You fall, then what?”

You rolled your eyes, but he plucked the plate from your hands, setting it on the counter. Without another word, he scooped you up—scooped, like a bloody princess—and started carrying you back to bed.

“Simon!” you protested, flailing slightly.

“Shush,” he muttered. “You’ve got enough on your plate—literally—without riskin’ your neck for a midnight snack.”

----------

Back in bed, Simon pulled the covers over both of you, his arm locking you in place like a human seatbelt.

“Next time, wake me,” he said, his voice softer now. “You want toast, noodles, a bloody roast dinner—I’ll get it. Just don’t go sneakin’ about.”

You sighed, nestling into his chest. “Fine. But I’m holding you to the roast dinner.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Deal.”

---------- A Wonderful Discovery

One sunny afternoon, you and Price’s fiancée (A/N: Same person from Papa Bear!! Material ;) and many more in this universe of mine, lol! ) decided to meet at a charming little tea house. It had become a bit of a routine—your way of catching up without the boys around to interrupt with their dry humor and war stories.

She was her usual lively self, flipping through the menu even though she’d already decided on her order. You admired how she could make even the simplest thing—like picking a biscuit—seem like an adventure.

“I’ve got to tell you,” she said suddenly, setting her menu down. “There’s this noodle shop. Open late. Best dumplings you’ll ever have. Like, melt-in-your-mouth, life-changing dumplings.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Late-night noodles? Around here?”

She nodded, leaning forward as if sharing a state secret. “Not just noodles—bao buns, dumplings, the works. I discovered it after one of those long nights when John was stuck at the base, and I didn’t feel like cooking. It’s a lifesaver. You’re lucky—it’s right near your place.”

Your interest piqued immediately. The thought of sneaking out for some steaming hot noodles had your mouth watering. “How late are we talking?”

She grinned. “Oh, past midnight. Maybe even 2 or 3 AM.”

----------

That night, as you lay in bed listening to Simon’s soft snores, the thought of that noodle shop lingered. You could almost taste the broth, the tender dumplings, the savory goodness of a late-night food escapade.

The idea began to take root.

----------

Late Night Escape

The idea simmered in your mind all evening. By the time Simon had brushed his teeth, pulled on his oversized sleep shirt, and settled into bed, it had blossomed into a full-blown plan.

You waited. And waited. Timing was everything. Simon’s arm, draped heavily across your waist, rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. His presence was solid and warm, a comforting weight—but tonight, it was your obstacle.

Carefully, you began to inch away, moving like a prisoner attempting to slip past a sleeping guard. His hand twitched, and you froze, holding your breath. After a long moment, he let out a soft snore.

Victory.

Sliding out of bed, you padded quietly to the wardrobe, pulling on Simon’s oversized hoodie and slipping into your trusty anti-slip slippers. The eco bag was stashed by the door, waiting. You slipped it over your shoulder, opened the door as quietly as you could, and stepped out into the cool night air.

The noodle shop wasn’t far, but with the chill nipping at your cheeks, it felt like forever. When you finally reached the warm glow of the restaurant, the smells of rich broth and freshly steamed dumplings greeted you like an old friend.

Sliding into a seat, you ordered a large bowl of noodles and a plate of dumplings. The first bite was pure heaven—warm, savory, comforting. This wasn’t just food. This was rebellion. A delicious act of defiance against Simon’s overprotectiveness.

You ate quickly, savoring each bite but keeping an eye on the clock. You couldn’t risk being gone too long, or Simon might wake up. When you finished, you wiped your hands, packed your leftovers into your eco bag, and headed home, feeling victorious.

----------

Simon hadn’t stirred when you returned. You slipped into bed, placing the bag under the bed for good measure. His arm instinctively found your waist again, and you smiled to yourself, utterly pleased.

But this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

----------

First Catch

It started feeling too easy. You’d mastered the art of sneaking out: the slow, deliberate slide from under Simon’s arm, the silent shuffle to the door, and the perfectly timed return. Your noodle escapades had become a nightly ritual.

But then, one night, your luck ran out.

You were tiptoeing into the kitchen, quietly opening the fridge to stash the leftover dumplings behind the unassuming bag of lettuce Simon would never touch, when a deep voice cut through the silence.

“Late-night fridge rearranging, are we?”

You jumped, spinning around with a gasp. Simon was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his imposing figure illuminated by the dim light of the open fridge.

Your mind scrambled for an excuse. “Uh... just wanted some water.”

“In my hoodie? And with an eco bag?” His eyebrow arched, unimpressed.

You tried to tuck the bag behind you, but Simon’s sharp eyes had already caught the unmistakable sheen of takeout containers poking out from the top. He strode forward, plucked the bag from your hands with an annoyingly effortless tug, and opened it.

The aroma of noodles and dumplings betrayed you instantly.

“Water, huh?” He held up a dumpling with mock seriousness. “This what they’re calling it these days?”

You gulped.

----------

Minutes later, you found yourself seated at the kitchen table like a scolded child. Simon, clad in sweatpants and a scowl, had taken over the stove. The sight of him cooking—rolling up his sleeves with a tired sigh—might’ve been endearing if you weren’t on the receiving end of his disapproval.

“You could’ve woken me,” he grumbled, cracking eggs into a bowl with more force than necessary.

“You were sleeping,” you mumbled.

“I’d rather get up than have you sneakin’ around at night,” he said, his tone gruff. “What if somethin’ happened, eh? You’re waddling about in the dark like a burglar.”

You snorted at the image, which earned you a sharp look.

“Not funny,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll make the bloody noodles if that’s what you want. Just stop sneakin’ out.”

You stayed silent, chewing on your lower lip. No way were you telling him about the noodle shop.

---------

Close Call

Old habits die hard. A few nights later, you were returning from the noodle shop, quietly slipping into the kitchen to stash your leftovers behind the condiments, when Simon stirred upstairs.

He came padding down the stairs just as you were closing the fridge.

“You were gone,” he murmured groggily, rubbing his face.

“Kitchen,” you lied quickly, holding up an empty glass of water as proof.

He hummed, unconvinced, and squinted at you. “Should’ve woken me.”

“For the kitchen?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“For whatever,” he grunted, his eyes scanning the counter before settling on the fridge. “Don’t like you wanderin’ about on your own.”

You gave him your best innocent smile and shuffled past him toward the stairs. Simon followed a moment later, his suspicion lingering like a shadow.

----------

Growing Suspicion

It started with a nagging feeling Simon couldn’t shake. You were always warm when you came back to bed, slightly out of breath, and he could swear he caught the faintest hint of soy sauce and sesame lingering in the air.

One night, as you slid into bed beside him, he cracked an eye open just enough to catch you pulling off his oversized hoodie. You were trying to be quiet, moving with all the stealth of someone trying not to get caught.

He didn’t say anything. Not yet. But his mind was racing.

The next night, he pretended to be deep asleep as you started your routine. The slow untangling from his grasp, the soft shuffle to grab your hoodie and slippers. He cracked his eye open just as you tiptoed out of the room, eco bag in hand.

Simon lay there for a moment, his jaw tightening. He didn’t believe in jumping to conclusions without evidence—years of military experience had drilled that into him. But this was his wife, and the secrecy was starting to itch.

----------

The Watchful Eye

The next few nights, Simon kept up his act. He watched you go through the same routine: hoodie on, bag in hand, slippers padding softly across the floor. Each time, he waited until you were out of earshot before sitting up and staring at the door.

He debated following you right then and there but decided against it. Instead, he lay back, staring at the ceiling, letting the suspicion simmer.

Until one night, he’d had enough.

----------

Caught in the Act

Simon Riley, a man known for his ability to track an enemy through any terrain in total darkness, cracked one eye open as he heard the faint creak of the bedroom door. His wife, waddling like a stealthy penguin in his oversized hoodie, had escaped once again.

He sat up, running a hand down his face, and muttered, “Bloody hell.” This was the third time this week, and it was starting to feel personal. He reached for his jumper, his movements slow and deliberate.

By the time Simon made it outside, you were already a good distance ahead, waddling down the street with your eco bag swinging by your side. He trailed behind, staying in the shadows like a proper ghost, his breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you entered the noodle shop, he stopped just outside, watching through the window. You were already at a corner table, your face lighting up as the server placed a steaming bowl of noodles in front of you. Then came the dumplings, and your joy was almost palpable.

Simon shook his head, muttering, “Unbelievable,” before pushing the door open. The little bell above the door jingled, but you didn’t notice—too engrossed in your noodles.

He approached silently, stopping just behind you. “Enjoyin’ yourself, are ya?”

You froze mid-slurp, a noodle dangling from your lips. That voice. You’d recognize that deep, gravelly tone anywhere.

Slowly, you turned your head to see Simon standing there, arms crossed and a single brow arched. His expression was equal parts amusement and exasperation.

“I, uh…” You scrambled for an excuse, your voice muffled by the noodle still in your mouth. “Toilet break?”

“Toilet break?” he repeated, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down. “Love, the loo doesn’t serve dumplings.”

A/N:

Just a heads up—Captain Price’s fiancée in this story is the same lady from Papa Bear Material—Mama Bear! So, if you've read that story, you might recognize her. As for the characters of Y/N, both are technically the same person, so feel free to choose who you identify with!

Y/N’s been caught. And now, Simon’s not having it. And with that, stay tuned for Part 2. Simon’s not letting this go anytime soon…

Edit: Part 2 is here!----->

[dreamdazedworld]

YINGXING BRAINROT

Synopsis: Yingxing x Genshin! Youkai! Gender neutral Reader and the both of them are hopelessly in love.

Note(s): I was listening to 愛き夜道 on Spotify when I suddenly got this idea, now it won’t leave me alone. Anyways, I think that this is the first post I actually wrote, so yippie? Eat up, my children, you won’t be having these Yingxing crumbs for some while. This might actually turn into a full blown fic, though it depends on my motivation LOL

Warning(s): Both of them are hopelessly in love with each other, death mentioned (nothing serious, dw), oops now you have a Yandere! Blade chasing you around Teyvat

Art credit goes to my favorite artist, void/Re:era on X! Their art is really pretty, check them out if you can :o

Imagine a Genshin! Youkai! Reader who’s a fox/kitsune (like Yae), and fell in love with YINGXING, like it has all of the potential fr.

So! Of course, Reader here is from Inazuma, and their… clan (let’s all pretend that the Youkai has separate clans) feeds only on the feelings (and emotions), positive ones, to be precise, of humans (like the dementors from Harry Potter!). Negative ones are like poison to them- And the only antidote for this is the Sacred Sakura, however, there are lasting after effects. Once poisoned, the kitsune will be significantly weakened for a long period of time, ranging from a few decades to centuries on end, depending on how much the kitsune consumed.

Kitsune! Reader, unlike the others from their clan, doesn’t like feeding on humans (because it ends up driving their victim mad and they like humans). Of course they understand that it’s necessary for them to survive, they’re not dumb, they can feel their hunger growing with each day they refused to feed on humans. So, with no more options, decides to blend into human society by protecting mankind from the ‘evil’ Youkai, and occasionally feeding on people who are about to die (with guilt). Their love for humanity and stubborn determination to protect humans ends up earning them a Pyro vision that supplies them with some energy to keep them going, since visions are literally wishes with a physical shape, and wishes have positive energy.

One day, while resting on the Sacred Sakura, Reader accidentally finds out that the Sakura has clones, which are spread across multiple worlds by waking up in the Xianzhou Luofu. There, they meet young Yingxing, who’s still learning under that grandpa, when he stumbles into the area where the clone is located. There, they become friends, and as years pass, eventually drinking buddies as well. After Yingxing meets the High-Cloud Quintet and as years fade away, our dear Reader here realizes they’re hopelessly in love with….. Yingxing!? Instantly gives up on their love as soon as they realize, because they think he doesn’t see them in that light (honey, he does), and to rub salt to the wound, in love with Bai Heng, since Yingxing talks about her a lot. But of course it doesn’t go as easily as they want it to go, so the Reader just silently suffers with their emotions.

When shit starts to go down in the Quintet after Bai Heng’s death, Reader goes “Oh fuck, Yingxing’s negative energy is going to make him choose the shittiest life options, won’t it?” and starts to suck away his pain (by kissing him in his sleep because YES). Yingxing starts getting better in exchange for Reader’s health, and in the end, Reader fucking COLLAPSES, forced to go back to Inazuma to recover, Yingxing learns about everything they were keeping from him through a letter, depression hits and oh wow, Yingxing chooses the most shittiest life decision he has ever made by teaming up with Dan Feng to cause the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, turning him immortal, and eventually into Blade. (I forgot to mention it but only the original Sacred Sakura has the ability to heal away the poison.)

As thousands of years pass, Reader fully recovers, though not exactly since they can’t let go of Yingxing. The Sakoku degree is lifted, and everything seems fine in Inazuma, until they come across a person who they thought were already dead- You guessed it, Blade! But not just typical Blade, Yandere! Blade who is on the brink of insanity and is hellbent on bringing Reader along with him. And so, the game of cat and mouse ensues.

[undeadcannibal]

imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 

You went by the call sign Mouse. 

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 

"Have any plans for 'em?" 

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 

"They look good on you, kid." 

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 

[slut4thebroken]

Delulu vampire!Crane deleted scene lol

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Vampire!Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jonathan takes care of his little prey.

Warnings | He’s kinda creepy, and very judgy lol, and of course very delulu but we love it.

Words | 640

Notes | Idk for some reason I didn’t really want to include this at the end of the fic but I already wrote it so I figured I’d post it 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

Previous part

Once inside the building, he found your keys in your purse and opened the front door, then carried you inside, gently kicking it shut behind him. Your apartment was small and he found your bedroom easily. After laying you on top of the bed, he hesitated. You were covered in dirt and blood, and it would only take a second to clean you up before he left… So he found the bathroom and rummaged through all of your cabinets, taking in every detail before eventually grabbing the wash cloth that was right in front of his face, getting it damp with water.

He sat down next to you on the bed and carefully wiped the mascara tracks from your cheeks and the smears of red from your lips, neck, and chest. He didn’t touch your pussy though— he wanted you to have a chance at remembering exactly what happened.

Once he finished cleaning you up, he figured he should leave some stuff on your nightstand for when you woke up. He got the painkillers he saw in the bathroom, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water, deciding to take a detour through your living room. Your place wasn’t too messy, but it wasn’t nearly clean enough for his liking.

He also got a flicker of excitement in his chest when he saw the bookcase full of books, but the feeling faded when he walked over to examine them. Jonathan reminded himself that you were your own person, of course you wouldn’t have the same taste in books as him, but he was still disappointed at all of the fantasy and romance covers he saw. He’ll have to encourage you to branch out, start reading more educated books— maybe he should get you some for when he sees you next.

He finally made his way to the kitchen and frowned when he opened the fridge and freezer— not a single fruit or vegetable in sight. This was absolutely unacceptable. You seemed like you were in pretty decent shape, especially when you were running, but maybe it was just the adrenaline. He can’t have a prey who lives off of frozen meals, you’ll barely survive the next chase. The pantry was worse; so many chips and snacks, all of them unhealthy.

Were his eating habits much better before he turned? No… But he had an excuse. He ordered takeout all the time because he was busy working a real job and doing experiments, not reading silly books. He’ll just have to find a way to help you change this part of your lifestyle as well.

Finally, he got a glass of water and a snack he found in the pantry that looked like the ‘healthiest’ option in there… When he placed them on the nightstand and saw you again, he faltered. You looked so uncomfortable, it was only right that he changed you into some pajamas.

So he walked over to your dresser and started with the top drawers. Lots of socks and plain underwear, then he found the lace. So many bodysuits, matching sets… he couldn’t wait to see you wear these for him. He went through the rest of your dresser, inspecting all of your clothes before pulling out some sweatpants and a shirt.

Changing your clothes was easy with his enhanced strength and when he finished, he took a step back, but something was missing… Socks. He walked back over to the dresser for a pair of fuzzy socks that he saw, then slipped them on your feet.

As a finishing touch, he took out the bullet from his pocket and set it on your nightstand next to the water. He desperately wanted to stay longer, maybe fuck you again, but he reluctantly left, already imagining how the next hunt might go.

[storiesfromafan]

Heart Felt Gifts - Benny x Reader

A/N: so its Christmas Eve for me right now. I have gifts to wrap but I've chosen to write instead 😅

I thought a cute Christmas fic was in order. And in true fashion, this little idea came to me while in the shower lol.

Now I have to wrap presents, before finishing my Mattheo Christmas fic haha.

Warning: fluff, cute nonsense 😅

Words: 1428

You weren’t one for being woken up, but having a strong set of arms wrapping around you, and being pulled against a firm body. Your back to their chest, and you knew exactly who the body was; Benny Cross. The most delicious mix of a moan and a groan came from Benny as he buried his face against the back of your neck. Seems he had just woken up too.

You stretched lightly, placing a hand over one of his arms that held you securely. You might not like being woken up but every time Benny stays over, and wakes up to hold you close, you could definitely wake up like this without an issue. Benny squeezed you once more loosening his hold on you, as he moved his face back.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart" his morning voice pleasantly greeted your ears.

You smiled, turning in his arms so you could face the gorgeous Vandal. “Merry Christmas”. And you pecked his full lips.

Of course Benny moved in, chasing your lips for another kiss – a longer kiss. You playfully fled his advances with a giggle, but eventually gave into him. Tender and lazily Benny kissed your lips, the both of you enjoying this sweet moment. You both laid there, wrapped around the other for some time. Just talking, sharing stories and laughing.

Finally you did get up, putting on your robe and slippers, you told Benny you’d put some coffee on. He made a noise of acknowledgement, and you then slipped out from the room. Reaching the kitchen you moved around getting the coffee brewing, and putting the pot under the machine. When it was ready it began to drip into the pot. You took that time to get two coffee cups, along with milk and sugar.

Benny entered the kitchen just as you’d finished make your cups up. He kissed your cheek before taking the offered cup. You took a cautious sip, savouring the liquid and hoping it would help get you through the day. Benny was doing the same. You then took a hold of his hand, leading him back into the lounge room. Sitting on the couch together, you put down your coffee and sat back, getting comfy up against Benny’s side as he put an arm around you.

You put on the TV, finding something Christmassy to watch, though it was more background noise. As Benny seemed to just enjoy having you close. His hand would graze up and down your arm, the pads of his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. He’d kiss your cheek or neck, just for the fun of it. Another perfect moment.

“This is the perfect morning" you sighed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I got ya a little something".

With that you slipped out of Benny's strong arms and moved to your small tree nearby. Picking up a small red box with green tartan ribbon. Joining Benny back on the couch, you sat with your legs under you and offered him the gift. Looking at the gift, to you and then back to the box, he was speechless. You moved the box a little closer to him, saying it’s his.

Cautiously Benny took the offered gift in his hand. He felt the weight and it wasn’t that heavy. Bringing it to his lap, Benny continued to look at your gift. All the while you watched him. And after a few minutes you began to think a gift wasn’t a good idea, as he didn’t seem excited about it.

“I-it’s alright if ya don’t want to open it now, maybe later" you stated moving your legs out from under you and taking a sip of your cooling coffee.

Benny looked to you, hearing how your voice had changed. As well as seeing how deflated you were. Sitting up quickly, he grasped your gift in both hands. “I’m gonna open it now, baby”.

He pulled one of the ends of the bow, it came undone without a fuss. Removing the ribbon and lid, Benny was greeted to white tissue paper. Moving it out of the way what greeted him surprised Benny. There in the delicate white paper was a new pair of leather riding gloves. Reaching out, Benny ran his finger tips over the cool material. A small smile working its way onto his face. A thoughtful gift, from his thought girl.

You watched with baited breath when he had said he would open it. You were nervous, not knowing if he would like the gloves. As you’d seen his well-worn ones every time you rode with him, and thought it might be time for a new pair. You released the breath you’d been holding when you saw that smile on his face.

He likes it, thank God!

Turning to you, Benny leant in for a big kiss. “Thanks sweetheart. I love ‘em".

You giggled and smiled, heart light and absolutely over the moon. “I am so glad! I was nervous you wouldn’t like them...”

Pulling you in for a hug and another kiss. Benny whispered how much he loved them. And how sweet, caring and thoughtful you were. I don’t know how I ended up with you he had commented, just adding to your joy. Glad to hear him being so vocal. But then, while tucked in his arms, Benny seemed to freeze. Like he was suddenly unsure about something. Then it hit you, maybe Benny hadn’t gotten you anything. And that was fine, you didn’t expect a gift after a month of being together. When it came to your gift, it was just a spur of the moment thing when you saw them.

“It’s alright if you didn’t get me anything” you said suddenly. “I didn’t expect anything, really. Just happy to be with ya right now". And you gave him a big, bright smile to show him you weren’t upset.

Benny shook his head. “Nuh...I got ya somethin’...”

He then put the box down on the floor and headed over to his jacket, which was hanging by the door. From his pocket Benny seemed to retrieve something. You noted it couldn’t have been a big gift, not that you were expecting a large gift. Whatever he gives you, you would appreciate it. As it was from him. That he had thought of you when he picked it out.

Falling back down next to you, Benny hesitated before holding out a tiny box. It was green and had no bow, which meant he hadn’t shopped anywhere fancy. Taking the tiny box in your hand, you looked to Benny once more, who seemed to be shy and embarrassed. But why? What was in this box that had him acting like this. Surely it couldn’t be a curtain kind of ring, right?

With that thought in mind, nervously you opened the box with a shaky hand. Upon seeing the contents you sighed, relieved to not see an engagement ring. But what lay in there confused you. Between your finger and thumb, you picked up the contents and held it up while looking to Benny. He had gifted you a men’s ring, like one of the ones he wore.

“Ah, I know it’s the thought that counts...but” – you tried it on your pointer finger, which was your thicker finger, and it was still too big – “this ring is too big, and is a man’s ring...”

Benny chuckled. “I know, baby" he removed the ring from your finger. “It’s mine". He flashed the finger it had previously sat on.

Now you were even more confused. But then Benny moved his hand to the box you still held, pulling out a silver chain that you hadn’t seen. He then proceeded to undo the clasp, slipping the ring on the chain and then leant around you to clasp it behind your neck. It fell down under your collar bone, resting there like it had always been there.

“I’d gotten the chain so ya could wear my ring around your neck" he stated, looking at the ring before back to your eyes. “My girl should have somethin' of mine to wear, right?”

When Benny’s words washed over you, your brain registering what he’d said, the brightest smile crossed your face. Eyes lighting up with joy. You launched yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck while you crawled into his lap. You showered him with kisses, making Benny laugh. Being – officially – Benny’s girl was the best Christmas present you could get. And you had his ring to prove it to anyone who wouldn't believe you.

[bloodlustngore]

Safe space - Vanessa Shelly

Another Vanessa fic? I’m hyper-fixating atm so it’s to be expected.

In the middle of writing a Vanessa x fem!reader smut so for now you can all have another fluff one (with a tiny bit of suggestiveness). Kinda want to get these all out before my hyper-fixation on Vanessa stops but it’s probs not gonna for a while as I’m also replaying Security Breach rn.

Also sorry if this one is shit lol or doesn’t make sense half of these I write sleep deprived.

Summary: Vanessa comes home, stressed. She just wants comfort from Y/n.

This is a Vanessa x fem!reader one-shot :)

God, this might shift and patrol was stressful. Vanessa found out that her father employed another security guard...she was worried and she also had to go meet him, and check up on how he was doing.

Vanessa just wanted to sleep, which was unusual for the blonde, because she rarely could...mostly she just wanted to be at home with her girlfriend, her safe space. She was relieved when she could come home, it was four in the morning and she knew her girlfriend would be asleep.

It had been pouring it down with rain tonight and luckily Y/n convinced Vanessa to wear her long water proof coat. But that still didn't stop her much from getting her hair wet a bit, since she forgot to put the hood up.

Locking the door behind her and getting in her routine habit of checking all the rooms downstairs at home, everything was locked. Vanessa did this because she was scared that something could happen to Y/n...considering Vanessa' father is William Afton, after all. Vanessa knew he could easily use her girlfriend against her. And that's why she was scared to get too close to someone but it was too late now, it had been since she first met Y/n two years ago.

Her father hadn't threatened her with Y/n yet...but it was still a possibility if she didn't do as he asked, anymore.

Vanessa headed upstairs after putting her coat away and took off her shoes, if she didn't Y/n would have her head. Leaving her bag down stairs but she still took her gun with her, in case. Y/n had one to...because she knew what she'd gotten herself into getting close to Vanessa.

The blonde stripped off her cop uniform, and threw in an old t-shirt with lounge shorts. Taking her hair out of the pony tail and into a messy bun instead. She glanced over at Y/n who was fast asleep, as she turned the lamp on at her side of the bed.

Crawling into bed, Vanessa turned off the lamp, cuddling up to her girlfriend and wrapping an arm around her stomach, protectively. Suddenly Y/n stirred awake, turning over to face Vanessa. "Nessa, you're home" she smiled tiredly, her eyes slowly opened.

"I'm glad you're back. I missed you." Y/n' voice was a bit groggily from the fact she's still tired and just woke up. "I missed you too baby, it's been a hell of a night. But we can talk about it in the morning." Vanessa paused as she kissed the tip of Y/n' nose.

"Okay. C'mere" Y/n chuckled, tiredly. Vanessa was already so close to her as it is, until the blonde understood what Y/n was after, she closed the gap between their faces and kissed Y/n' lips. The kiss was soft and full of passion, then Y/n kissed back making it sloppy due to her tiredness.

Vanessa was so tempted to get on top of Y/n but she stayed at the side, kissing her. Knowing that if they started this now, there would be no sleep for either of them for a while. Their kiss continued, breathing heavy, Vanessa made Y/n moan into the kiss slightly when her hand squeezed her inner thigh, prompting the blonde to deepen the kiss with her tongue.

Vanessa pulled away eventually, both women's chests heaving, a strand of saliva connected until they broke apart. "As much as I'd like to continue Y/n, we need to get some rest."

Y/n chuckled "yeah you're right." Pausing to check her phone "fuck me it's four a.m."

Vanessa smirked at her girlfriend "tempting..."

Y/n rolled her eyes "cheeky. But you need rest, babe."

"Fine. Goodnight Y/n. I love you."

"I love you too Nessa" she kissed her softly, wrapping her arms around Y/n once again, feeling happy that she's in the company of her girlfriend, and that she gets to cuddle with her for the rest of the night...or early morning.

[vaguely-concerned]

garashir snippets from a fic idea I regrettably think will not come to anything complete or coherent -- basically it's building on the dynamic I was talking about in this post, and the context would be something like them having some very enthusiastic but um perhaps under-negotiated kinky sex not too long after 'our man bashir' and the fallout of it!

--

Garak thinks, How much do I need to rile you up until you decide no one could say you had any choice but to make the crossing?

Julian comes at him with an expression like an unsheathed blade, and Garak wants to wrap his hands around it and bleed all over him. (In his most selfish heart, where he consigns all the things he hungers for but knows he shouldn’t have, he wants to bleed into him, until they mingle, until it cannot be washed clean even if he pulls away again; until nothing can be taken back.)

. . .

(postcoital catastrophe time)

“I shouldn’t have — I could have hurt you,” Bashir says.

“Well, that’s hardly unique,” Garak mumbles, feeling dozy and warm — something so rare on this interminable icy purgatory of a station, he’d almost forgotten his body could feel it. “Anyone could hurt anyone else at any time, that’s just the world.”

Bashir’s mouth tightens and his eyes flash a warning — don’t play with me on this. “Garak — ”

“Anyone could, but you wouldn’t,” Garak says, gazing up at him without quite knowing what his eyes might be revealing. 

Bashir’s gaze lands on the spot on Garak’s neck where his surprisingly precise shot had grazed skin and scale. There was nothing to see there now, of course — Garak  had rather wanted to keep the scar as a memento, but the Doctor insisted on treating it once they finished the program, and trying to deny Julian Bashir in full doctor mode is a lot like setting out to halt an oncoming glacier by engaging it in a fistfight. From the look in Bashir’s eyes he hasn’t forgotten it any more than Garak has, though. 

“But I did,” Julian says, his voice small. Had Garak been in a less blissed-out state of mind, he probably would have picked up on that before it was too late. 

“Yes, I know, I was — and remain — very impressed, my dear. There are few things as attractive as a man with the courage of his convictions.”

“This isn’t funny.” All warmth has fled Julian’s voice. 

of course b/c of what a sap I am as a person and as writer it would eventually turn out okay in the end after they talked it out and figured some stuff out lol. then they could go on to have on-purpose unhinged soul-baring deeply intimate kinky sex that leaves everyone happy and fulfilled by the end

[okkotsui]

nanami kento ⇄ sweet like candy.

synopsis: why does nanami kento taste like your favorite candy?

tags / warnings : femsub!reader, smut with little to no plot, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, multiple rounds and positions, breeding kink, mention of spankings, very heartwarming aftercare, not proofread.

author’s note: hello?! apologies, this is so lame and short lol (i'll edit/add more of this once i'm not that busy again) but i really want to make a smut fic for him. HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HIM THIS SEASON?! this is like my birthday fic, my birthday celebration with you all and this has been sitting on my drafts for MONTHS.

oh gosh, how can you resist him? each of his thrusts and strokes is breathtaking. every time he would glide his hand around your body, it felt like a heated wave of euphoria, adding more sweetness to every touch that he would give you. he felt so addicting that he might have hexed you for wanting him more than ever.

kento is indeed a gentleman. he would always ask for your consent— no matter which form it is, even though you two are already in a relationship, he knows how important it is. it just makes you fall in love with him even more.

you were craving for him, not that you were pregnant but in terms of having his affection and having him inside you so full, that's how you wanted him. as the good man that he always is, his thick fingers were now inside you, eventually finding your sweet spot that would make your legs shake.

“k–kento!” you cried out with a small pout on your lips, almost drooling which got his attention from having his fingers within your gummy walls. he likes it when you’re being like that. he made you feel so small and submissive— not like you're complaining.

he hummed in response, acknowledging your need for him and your spots to abuse later on. looking at your naked body like he owns it, his eyes were soft and full of affection just for you.

"need you, please?" of course that made him throb, he loves it when you're being like this. all so obedient and loving for him. of course it would be a different story when you’re all bratty.

you already came from his fingers, he was just touching your spot sweet as if it was the most normal thing for him to do. it made your heart skip and butterflies swarming inside your stomach.

"okay darling, be patient." he slowly removed his digits from your pussy as you whined almost silently from the emptiness that you felt.

but soon, your attention was replaced by how he rubbed his cock's tip on your entrance and clit, making you clench around nothing but before he does anything else, your hand glides down through his cock, giving him a small pump that made him spread his leg for you to continue as you lay there on the bed comfortably whilst having his dick on your hand.

“baby, i thought you needed me?” he groaned out, shaking his head, too focused on him as he breathed out shakily, he noticed your fingers were slipping away from him as he took over once again, giving your ass a light spank, rubbing it softly.

he slowly entered into your pussy, making you mewl from his size. giving you soft pecks on your forehead to calm you down but as soon as he was fully inside you— you felt so full, he started moving already.

taking note of your sweet spot, he hits it with his dick. he knows each part of you so well, making your eyes water. the way your slit welcomes him made him erratic each time he thrust.

letting out a quiet gasp, “f–fuck, right there!” whilst squeezing your eyes shut from the pleasure.

“yeah, I know...” you can’t do anything else but wrap your arms around him and claw into his back.

he doesn’t mind it, in fact, he even loves it when you leave him marks on his back. despite thrusting into you hard where you can already see the stars, he leaned down giving you a soft kiss on your lips, turning into mush when he licked your lips, passing into your lips, your tongues dancing together— he adored this.

never failed to give you butterflies each time he did small little things for you and your body.

slowly but surely, his thrusts were sharp but slow that you felt him, every vein that he had. as he felt you squeezing him hard as you reached your climax, he stopped— he was still inside, making you whimper from the lack of his movement.

"kento..." you called out to him as he shushed you, suddenly sensing him carrying you to his lap as he sat up, he brought you in a lotus position.

he loves each position where he can see your face, he won't admit it, he likes seeing your reaction to him filling you up.

this time, he continued moving inside you. his hands were almost gripping your ass as he moved you up and down, swearing he was hitting the most impossible spots that made you sigh in pleasure. he would never forget kissing you

he felt so good inside you, he won't get tired of you being around him. gosh, you are the only one who made him feel like this.

“baby... want me to cum inside?" he asked, he sounded so hot from his almost strained voice, deep and addicting that would just make you nod.

"please..." you answered, gasping softly, your head was on his shoulder as he continued moving you— already moving up and down to meet his thrust as it was already enough to give him your consent, invariably.

you don't know how many times the two of you would continue for multiple rounds in different motions, you felt so full of him already. you swear you can feel your lower stomach bump and see the stars twinkling brightly outside.

he tastes so sweet, you would never get tired of it.

he placed you down on your shared bed and finished cleaning you off, he already wore you his shirt is oversized for you to be comfortable, lying down beside you.

"thank you, you did so well baby," he whispered softly.

scooping you in his arms, brushing your strand of hair aside, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead— covering the both of you with a blanket from the cold night airconditioner as the two of you doze off with you feeling at home in his arms as you cuddled into him.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hide and Tickle (Bungo Stray Dogs)

*Flips hair, knocking over several things* Why hello there.

So! Y'all might remember this little dabble I wrote a while back; I said in the description that I wanted to make this a proper fic eventually.

And then 2022 and 2023 passed by like two ships into the night...

SO HERE WE ARE! :D I will admit- I was a bit lazy and put the sentence starter dabble as the opener- so this is more an extended version of that! I hope you like it! :3

This is also part 1 of a series I'm making! I have the perfect request to follow this one up, so stay tuned (hopefully this time I'll be before the end of the year lols)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @dirtpie39 @duckymcdoorknob @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart

“I’m so boooooooooorrrreeeeed~” Dazai droned from his desk, eyes half-lidded with disinterest as he looked at the stack of paperwork before him. “Kuuuuni~ Aaaaatsushhhhhhi~ Entertain me!”

“Do your work. That should keep you entertained for a while.” Kunikida didn’t look up from his computer, unfazed by the brunette’s whining. “And sit up straight while you’re at it. You’re at work, not home.”

“But isn’t the armed detective agency our second home?” Dazai fluttered his eyelashes at them, pouting when neither paid him any mind. “I see how it is. I’m like the unwanted stray hoarded up in the family garage, living off scraps from the trash.”

“Did-did you just call yourself a raccoon?” Atsushi blinked, looking at Dazai. He fell right for his trap.

“Atsushi! You’ve noticed me!” Rolling over in his chair, he unceremoniously tossed his arms around the younger man, leaning on him with nearly all his weight. “Take me home and feed me delicious food!”

“I do have a spar futon…”

“Don’t entertain him!” Kunikida growled, giving up on his report as he slammed his laptop shut. “Fine, you want to play a game? Let’s play. You get ten seconds to hide.”

“Mr. Kunikida?” Atsushi blinked. Dazai seemed equally curious.

“What-”

“If we catch you,” Kunikida referred to himself and Atsushi, earning even more surprise from the weretiger. “You’re getting tickled. Is that clear?”

…Huh? No way Kunikida was suggesting that! Atsushi turned to Dazai, expecting some sort of coy reply or teasing remark.

Instead, he found nothing but air.

“Did he-” Atsushi blinked, watching as Kunikida took his seat once more, opening his laptop.

“That’ll keep him busy for a while. You’re relieved of your duties until my reports are finished.” The blonde jerked his chin to the office plant, Dazai’s foot sticking out comically. “See to it that idiot stays entertained.”

Atsushi looked between him and Dazai, the brunette subtly poking his face through the greenery to spy. Then he laughed, getting up with a nod.

“Be sure to type extra slow. Come here, Dazai!” Atsushi took off, charging the startled office plant full speed ahead. Dazai yelped as he dived, flying around the corner and sending the plant spinning. Atsushi’s quick reflexes saved them from the mess.

“Don’t make a mess!” Kunikida called after them, but his voice was muted at the noise. Dazai was sprinting between desks, putting as much distance as he could between him and Atsushi while giggling like a loon.

“Stahahay away! I’m nohohohoht reahahady!” Dazai wheezed, holding his hands up as he backed around Ranpo’s desk, the mentioned man eating snacks as he watched. “Ahahhahahtsushi!”

“Why so nervous? Running out of hiding spots?” The weretiger grinned, feigning left and right to throw off his boss. In the background, he could hear Naomi and Tanizaki giggling to themselves, amused.

“Quick, go left!” Naomi called out.

“No, right- go right!” Tanizaki added.

“Who are you two even talking to right now?” Dazai yelped, backing up towards the door as Atushi feigned a lunge forward. “Ahahahtsushi…”

“Coming around.” Yasano spoke from behind, her hands coming to his sides as she scooted. In that second, she pressed in sharply.

“EEHEE!” Dazai yelped, stumbling forward at the unexpected tickle. Right into Atsushi’s trap card.

“Thanks, Yasano!” The weretiger cheered as he quickly wrestled Dazai to the ground, quickly pinning his arms. “Mr. Kunikida-”

“On it.” The blonde was there in seconds, sitting on Dazai’s waist and rolling up his sleeves. “Not much luck hiding, was there?”

“Ahehehehehe, hehehehehahahha! Coohohme on- wahhahait! Thihihihs isn’t the mohohohost cohohoohmfortahhahable flohohoor!” Dazai giggled out his pleas, squirming some as he looked up with big eyes. “Spahahhare me?”

“Mr. Kunikida?” Atsushi asked, turning his attention to the other man.

“Hmm..” The blonde hummed, thinking. Dazai tried to smile.

“Get him.” He decided. Massive fail!

“Ehehehehhahahahaha! Whahahahit, wahhahahait pleahahhahahhahahse!” Dazai burst into giggles almost immediately, kicking his feet and laughing as Kunikida dug into his ribs. Above him, Atsushi grabbed both of his hands in one transformed paw; using his free one to slowly trace his tricep. “Aheahhhaha! Gheahahhaha! Nohohohoho! Nohohoho doohohn’t do thahahahhat!”

“Oo, he’s ticklish there?” Ranpo asked, now sitting on his desk. “I thought only Kenji was.”

“It’s not that rare of a spot. Tanizaki’s the same as well.” Yasano pointed out, earning a squeaky “Hey!” from the redhead. “Try his biceps too- he hates it when I examine them.”

“Yahahhasunohohoho don’t thehehell them thahahhhahahat!” Dazai’s complaints were quickly swept clean as Atsushi did just that- finding an even better reaction. “Aheahhahahaha!”

“So sensitive. It’s a wonder why you’d even try tickling others if this is your reaction.” Kunikida tsked gently as he moved up to his highest rib, prodding rapidly into the spot and making the other howl with mirth. “Atsushi- hold him tight.”

“What-Oh!” The weretiger yelped and scrambled his grip when Dazai suddenly shot his arms down, cheeks pink and head thrown back into Atsushi’s lap as the poet dug into his armpits. “Watch your head there, Dazai. You almost took out mine.”

“GEHAHAHAHAHHA! KUHUHUUHUNI PLEHAHAHAHHASE!” Dazai squealed, twisting and turning in their grip as his second worst spot was attacked. “IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!”

“You don’t say?” The blonde growled, grinning at the squeaky wheeze the brunette let out. Having some mercy, he moved back to Dazai’s waist- a spot that wasn’t all that ticklish. “Are you not entertained?”

“Ehehe- aheahhahahhahaha! I meahahhan I ahahahm a lihihihiihittle!”

“He’s not fighting back, Mr. Kunikida.” Atsushi pointed out. Why he did so, he didn’t know. It was just odd how little Dazai was tugging at his wrists. “Maybe he’s getting tired?”

“No, he’s just enjoying himself.” Kunikida remarked. Such a simple comment, but it did wonders in flustering the man below them. Dazai let out a giggly whine and pressed his face into his arm, cheeks on fire and smile big.

Ah. Atsushi understood now. The running, the giggle fits, the lack of resistance.

This was Dazai’s plan all along.

In that case…

“Aww, is that right? Is it true you’re enjoying this, Dazai?” Atsushi cooed at him all sweetly, readjusting his grip once more so he could scribble against the back of Dazai’s ears- making him shrink up with a near silent laugh. “Is it true that you’re loving up tickling you? Huh? Huh?”

“Wow, he’s good at that.” Naomi mused from the background, Tanizaki and Yasano making noises of agreement. Kunikida even looked impressed.

“Are you gonna get back to work?” He asked. Dazai couldn’t speak, nodding rapidly.

“Should we let him go, sir?” Atsushi asked. The blonde thought about it some more.

“Yeah. Give him air. He might be a moron with a death wish, but he’s our moron with a death wish.” The tickles finally came to an end, leaving Dazai gasping for air and giggling softly. With no one holding him down, he was able to curl up, head against the cool leg of Ranpo’s desk. “Ehehehehe..ehhehehehehee…thahaht was fuhuhuhn..hehe..”

“Tch. Why did I know you’d say that?” Kunikida rolled his eyes without malice, heading back to his desk. “Get back to your desk once you’ve recovered. You still have paperwork to do-”

There was a flash. Dazai ran at him full speed; recovering rather quickly. Seconds later- Kunikida was face down on the ground, the brunette sitting on his hips. “Dazai! You son of a-”

“Atsushi.” That tone. Threatening and playful. The weretiger shivered all over. “I have all intended purposes of getting revenge for what you did to me. But I’m gonna make you a deal.”

Dazai turned to look back, brown eyes dark and dangerous and oh so daring. “Help me tickle Kuni, will you?”

Thanks for reading!

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 1: Family Dinner

Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. With engaging imagery, emotional depth, comic relief, and some fun twists and turns, the story will take you on a delightful ride with our beloved Sergeant, leaving you satisfied as he finds his happily ever after… eventually. 😉 Rated PG-13 for some mild suspense, suggestive talk, alcohol and drug use, and adult themes. Banner and dividers by @pinkiemme Master List here

BEFORE WE DIVE IN... Now that we’re past the finale, I’d like to make this fit in as well with that as possible. But I also want to enjoy it. ;) So here’s where this lies… Tech was found alive and well (living in a hut in the forest on Tantiss? lol) and came with the boys after they BLEW IT ALL UP. Omega is living with them as well, for now, because they all thought it was wise to give her a break and some semblance of “normal life” while the rebellion continued to build. She might seem a little less like a full soldier here and more like a typical teenager on the brink of adulthood, and that might be a bit of a shift from her development throughout season 3, but I think it’s still reasonable to think that some of the typical adolescent stuff might come up once she was immersed into a more typical adolescent setting. Maybe not, but again… it’s just for the plot. ;) 

I’m changing the setting for a variety of reasons, but they left Pabu out of fear that the Empire might still have it on their radar. You’ll learn more about the island of Xylo in a couple chapters. Crosshair didn’t lose a hand, but he’s still got some lingering effects from his time on Tantiss. Echo opted to spend a year with the Batch before rejoining the rebellion. The events of this fic may seem relatively domestic after all that the Batch endured, but I really just wanted to have a warm and fuzzy story with family, humor, love, and some plot twists. Ultimately, the purpose here is to enjoy a romance adventure with Hunter, so please forgive any plot holes and just enjoy the ride. ;)

Chapter 1: Family Dinner (Word Count: 2.5k) Fanart by @nika6q

The balmy sea breeze ruffled the tablecloth and made the string lights dance merrily above the jovial scene below as the clinking of silverware on plates punctuated the steady hubbub of conversation that rose and fell with the emotion of what was being shared. Some overly-optimistic sea birds hovered above on a swell, fastidiously watching for any dropped crumbs before swooping gracefully into another updraft. Crosshair was looking at them down the edge of his finger, which he had shaped into a gun with the help of his thumb, and his focused squint was interrupted by a smack on his arm. He flashed his partner a wry grin as they chuckled, shaking their head at his “murder noodle antics”, as they’d come to call it. 

“Stop traumatizing the wildlife and eat your fish,” they laughed.

“This looks an awful lot like traumatized wildlife too, you know,” Crosshair answered, picking at the fillet with a fork. “I mean, what horrors did this thing have to endure at the end of Wrecker’s line?”

“I’m starting to feel like traumatized wildlife,” his partner jabbed, grinning ear to ear as they took a bite of their brightly-flavored steamed vegetables. 

“If it decreases any potential reservations you may yet hold,” Tech interjected, “As far as neuroscience has yet been able to distinguish, this particular genus of sea creatures do not possess the pain receptors necessary for the experience of pain with which humanoid species are familiar.”

“Thanks, Julia Child,” Crosshair muttered, a hint of fondness flickering beneath the dry humor.

“If you are metaphorically comparing me to the infamously accomplished chef of the Core Worlds, it is hardly an insult, Crosshair. You are losing your edge.” Tech’s savage burn was delivered at a slightly louder volume than usual, and Wrecker’s boisterous laugh immediately broke through. The massive clone pointed a gleeful finger at Crosshair as he finished his bite between hearty chuckles.

“That one’s gotta hurt!” Wrecker exclaimed, pulling his hand back as Phee smacked it away. 

“You tryin to resurrect the grumpiness? Come on, big guy. Think it through,” Phee said playfully, arching a sharp eyebrow at Wrecker, whose unabashed grin remained unfazed despite her mockingly stern correction. “Or I’m gonna kick you out of our house.”

Omega giggled, sharing a glance with Hunter across the table, who gave her a half-smile and wink before turning back to Echo, who was filling him in on the newest developments at his Defense Training Academy.

“I didn’t think it would fill up so quickly,” Echo mused, tearing apart the large fish filet on his plate with his fork. “I guess the Empire’s got everyone spooked, even out here. But it’s a good thing, I think… They’ll be ready to fight if it ever comes to that, but Maker willing, it won’t.”

“They’re doing the same on Pabu,” Phee chipped in, leaning forward to nod at Echo. “Shep’s got a whole daily regimen of exercise, strategy, and drills for any possible scenario he can think of. You should talk to him; he could use your military expertise.’

“I’d be interested to hear what he’s doing,” Echo nodded in return. “Maybe we could make a trip that way sometime soon.”

“Can I come?!” Omega said brightly, tugging Echo’s arm from her seat beside him. “I’d love to see Lyana. I wish we’d been able to stay there.” 

“Me too, kid,” Hunter said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair after resting his wooden utensils on his plate. “But you know trouble follows us wherever we go. It’s better for them this way. Besides, Xylo is pretty much the same–”

“Aside from an entirely different subset of ecosystems and a much larger diversity in flora and fauna due to the greater size of the island, yes… Xylo is similar to Pabu in that… they are both islands,” Tech interjected, wavering at the end as he caught sight of Phee's fondly arched eyebrow directed at him.

“I know,” Omega said, “It’s just hard making friends wherever we go and having to leave them… Jek and Shaeeah, Hera, Lyana… But everyone at school is really nice so far too.” She was so sweet, so earnest, always trying to look on the bright side while still being true to her feelings… Hunter’s heart warmed in his chest as he listened to her thoughts. 

“Yeah, how’s that going?” Wrecker asked. He was the best uncle, ever-vigilant about her experiences on the island of Xylo since they’d made a decent attempt to integrate into society. It had been the better half of a year already, and they felt as though things were just now settling into some faint hint of an established life. 

“I love it!” Omega exclaimed enthusiastically, causing infectious smiles to appear on several of her family members’ faces. “It was the best year for me to join – it sounds like everything before this was all just academic units, but now they’re getting to really live it out and see what they want to do in life!”

“Academic units are highly useful building blocks for success in individual endeavors, Omega,” Tech reminded her. “Or for saving one’s life when careening toward the earth at fatal speeds in cargo containers…” he smirked, enjoying his own dry humor for a moment before falling silent. Phee was the only one who caught the slight flash of a frown at the corners of his lips and the way he subconsciously rubbed his thigh – echoes of the pain of the past. 

“I know, Tech, but I’ve been studying everything, and now it’s time to actually do stuff! The forestry section just wrapped up, and this week I get to start shadowing Madame Dreyfus – she’s a seamstress who dyes her own fabrics! I heard that if I do well, she might let me make my own outfit for the Advancement Ceremony at the end of the year!”

“I’m sure you’ll do great, kid,” Phee said confidently, smiling warmly above the table while her hand joined Tech’s beneath, gently placing it on top of his where it rested on his thigh. 

“Maybe you could make Wrecker something to wear so he has more than two shirts,” Crosshair suggested, squinting at his brawny brother, who rolled his eyes, unfazed, and brushed a few crumbs off his open-chested brown tunic.

“Maybe you could make Crosshair some pants that aren’t so kriffing tight so he’s not acting like he’s got a wad of fabric up his–”

“Language, Echo,” Hunter growled, and Omega wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a hearty chuckle.

“You know I hear worse than that at school,” she giggled, eyes sparkling with delight as Echo gave her a wink. 

“I know…” came Hunter’s answering grumble, and Omega reached across beneath the table to give his leg a little tap with her foot, watching his face soften as their eyes met.

“Anyway,” Echo continued, “With the number of sign-ups at the DTA, we’re going to need some other instructors and guides soon. I don’t suppose any of you are interested in donating some of your time and expertise to whip these locals into shape?”

“DTA?” Crosshair’s partner whispered.

“Defense Training Academy,” he murmured back, rubbing an idle hand up and down their muscular arm. “It’s what the cool kids call it.”

“Then I will definitely not call it that,” they snickered, and Crosshair smirked as he turned back to Echo.

“They’re gonna need more time before they can handle anything I’ve got to teach them,” he said. “But I’d pay good money to be able to watch them fight Wrecker for sport. Er, practice.”

“That’d be fun!” Wrecker laughed, smacking his closed fist with his other hand. “Gonna have to wait though. I’m swamped with projects after the last mudslide. Everyone wants things added or changed to their rebuilt homes so it’s all takin a lot longer.”

“They’re keepin you busy, huh?” Phee asked, knowing that Wrecker loved every minute of it. He’d never had the opportunity to put his skills to use outside of his service to the Republic, and she’d been privy to many a conversation filled with his enthusiasm for craftsmanship. It helped that he was able to lift and move most everything by himself, too.

“Yeah! Now if I could just get Hunter to stop freaking out the locals when he’s out huntin,” Wrecker said, narrowing his eyes at the Sergeant, who smirked and shrugged.

“Look, the whole island is open access. It’s not illegal. Besides, I think they’d be complaining a lot more if their favorite meats weren’t available at my shop anymore…”

“That’s for sure!” Omega chipped in, wearing a wry smile. It struck Hunter in that moment just how much she had changed in the short time they’d known her. Especially since the Tantiss rescue, where they’d successfully extracted her along with Tech and Crosshair before blowing up the entire facility and everything in it, her face had gotten more angular, her hair longer. She was wildly intelligent and had an enthusiasm and warmth that was unmatched, but as she’d grown, they’d had their share of conflicts. Hunter couldn’t relate, having had his entire life planned out for him as soon as he’d reached “adulthood” with his rapidly-accelerated aging, but there were endless nuances to a young woman that he was having to figure out as they went along. Sometimes he forgot how much she was aware of – she’d been so sheltered from certain realms of civilian life, but having nestled into life on the island, she’d become much more connected and “up with the times”, so to speak. She continued, a glimmer in her eye now, “I heard some office ladies talking about you the other day!”

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, squinting at the mischief on her face.

“Yeah,” she echoed, idly rolling the last piece of sushi on her plate. “One of them said she loved your butcher shop and that you’ve got the best meat on the island,” Omega said slowly, face straight as a board. “The other one said she couldn’t agree more, and a third one said she hasn’t been to the shop but would love to have your meat in her mouth.”

Echo choked on his drink, Crosshair’s toothpick fell out of his mouth, and Wrecker exploded into a guffaw that sent the sea birds tumbling through the air before quickly regaining their graceful hovering. Hunter pressed his lips together, focusing his gaze on Tech’s completely impassive face to try to stabilize himself before replying.

“You’ll have to point out the third one next time I take you to school,” Phee said quietly, nothing but innocence painted across her features. 

“Seemed like an odd way to say it,” Omega muttered, twisting her mouth to the side, and Hunter genuinely couldn’t tell if she was pulling his leg or not. 

“You will find that there are many nuances to speech specific to geographical and cultural areas that might make one phrase sound entirely different than it would in another place. I would not worry about it. The point is that we should congratulate Hunter on his successful business,” Tech suggested, speaking loudly over Wrecker’s continued laughter.

“Yeah,” Echo agreed. “He sure is satisfying his customers…”

“Apparently not all of them,” Crosshair prodded, and his partner elbowed him again.

“Moving on,” Hunter said emphatically, “Wrecker, when can you fix the chimney? Winter will be here soon and I can only keep it so warm with that draft…”

“Yeah yeah,” Wrecker said, waving him off amid residual chortles. “I’ll come by this week.”

“Taungsday?” Hunter pressed.

“Mmm, Centaxday maybe. Taungsday is the “Grand Re-Opening” at the tiki bar. They got new freshers! Supposed to be all fancy now.”

“Anything would be fancy compared to the pits they had,” Tech sniffed. “While wildly inconvenient for relieving oneself during a raucous night of imbibing, they could have been permanent fixtures in the cultural museum considering how primitive and dated they were.”

“I’m sure the locals would be thrilled at that exhibit,” Phee affirmed, rising to her feet to begin clearing the table. The Primeday tradition of dinner at Tech and Phee’s had been one of the first things everyone had agreed on, and in the months since they’d arrived on Xylo, it had been the grounding activity each week that allowed them to feel a sense of belonging and routine. 

Everyone got up to help clean up except for Wrecker and Hunter, who lingered behind to finish their drinks. Tech had not only developed an interest in cooking, but had also discovered quite the knack for mixing drinks. He couldn’t stand the local tiki bar down on the beach, insisting that their proportions were all wrong and they were using nothing but cheap garbage to try to make as much profit as possible. However, considering the beautiful waterfront location and the fact that it seemed to be the main gathering place for the entire town, no one seemed to mind quite as much as Tech. 

“Headin out early tomorrow?” Wrecker asked, swirling the liquid in his wood cup.

“Mhm,” Hunter answered, mimicking the movement before taking a sip. “The Kod’yok are migrating and the locals love their flank steaks. You good to walk with Omega?” 

“You betcha, although she’s getting old enough that she probably doesn’t need it anymore, ya know…” 

“I know, but let’s let her be the one to suggest that, eh? I don’t want her feeling thrown out on her own in a new place. Plus, we can never be too safe.”

Wrecker sighed. He’d been able to let go more quickly of the paranoia that still seemed to rest on Hunter’s shoulders, although he was aware of the crippling responsibility the Sergeant felt for all that had transpired, from Crosshair being separated from the squad back on Kamino to the rescue attempt that had cost Tech his life, or so they thought. Recovering the rest of the team had been a harrowing fiasco, but they’d emerged victorious… barely. 

They’d found a planet in the middle of nowhere, uncharted in most of the records Tech was able to find, and it had been a welcome respite from the increasing turmoil across the galaxy that accompanied the spread of the Empire. Xylo was similar to Pabu in its feeling of safety and anonymity, unknown by virtually anyone outside the island, and there were a handful of other similar islands scattered across the rest of the planet, most of which was covered by water. Xylo was the largest island on the nameless planet and had so far been a good place for everyone to settle.

It was late by the time everyone had finished their cleaning and conversations, and Hunter was the last to leave, thanking Phee again for her usual hospitality as she disappeared around the corner with a wave. Tech saw him out, pausing on the doorstep to fiddle with one of his pouches.

“I finished this today,” he said, handing a small bag to Hunter. “It will function excellently anywhere on the planet. I can assemble others if you feel a need, but I believe our existing comm devices suffice.”

“Thanks, Tech. One is good for now. I appreciate it.” And with that, they went their separate ways.

~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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Join the tag list by commenting for the discord server link or filling out my form.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

helloooooo :)) sliding in with a generic marvel-esque vaguely criminal organization landoscar au with background lestappen because I am nothing if not predictable

Oscar is their resident poison specialist (he makes new poisons, tests them, makes antidotes, etc. for the organization to use). His preference is plant based poisons, like belladonna and nightshade, because he graduated college with a botany degree and therefore has a lot of knowledge about them that he can put for use. He spends most of his time in his greenhouse full of toxic, beautiful plants that he tends too very, very carefully. They’re his babies.

There’s a whole backstory involved with how he came to join the organization that involves him accidentally killing his college roommate

Lando is a former gymnast turned espionage guy who also does theft on the side for funsies that works for the organization. Like vaguely cat woman-y? Obviously he’s super flexible and super good at his job because duh.

His favorite hobby is breaking into Oscar’s greenhouse via the windows and watching him work. Oscar is super fascinating to him, and he’s enamored with how absolutely brilliant this quiet, stoic boy, with maybe five facial expressions total is.

Lando sits there and listens to Oscar ramble about his complex science things. He doesn’t understand most of it ngl, but he loves the way Oscar’s face lights up when he goes on a long tangent about the chemical properties of cyanide and why it’s superior to arsenic.

Also sometimes lando brings Oscar random pretty shiny things that he stole that he thinks Oscar might like and leaves them on his desk, kind of like a crow. Oscar keeps all of them in a box under his bed. He looks at them when he feels down (he doesn’t tell lando that)

Oscar is equally obsessed with lando but this is already wayyyyyy too long so 😭 you just gotta trust me on this one

And then eventually, the rest of the people in the organization pick up on the growing landoscar feelings situation. Alex and George give lando a bunch of (loving and caring) grief about it. A bet between them is born. “$50 lando is too chicken to confess to Oscar by the end of the month”

Yada yada time skip a week or so and lando and Oscar FINALLY do something about the tension between them one night late in Oscar’s greenhouse, lando freshly back from a mission. Boom they kiss and then lando, being the idiot that he is, as soon as they pull apart, goes “lol George and Alex owe me $50 now”

Cue misunderstanding trope. “Oh you only kissed me for a bet?? You don’t actually have feelings for me 😔 I knew it was too good to be true.”

Lando realizes his mistake but Oscar’s already out the door, disappeared into the night.

And then Oscar gets kidnapped by the enemy 🤗 because he’d normally be more aware and vigilant and stuff but his emotions are really going through it so. The ransom note comes through the next day.

Gonna leave it on that because otherwise I will spiral into a full blown fic when I already have too many wips to finish

I'M SO????? HOW DID U JUST RANDOMLY SLIDE IN HERE WITH THIS???? i am so obsessed with these details my god the POISON? CATMAN ESPIONAGEGYMNAST? christ. and then lando leaving him little gifts like a crow. OSCAR ACCIDENTALLY K-WORDING HIS ROOMMATE (and possible guilt)?? the classic misunderstanding thingy "but oscar gets kidnapped" leading to a climactic rescue oh oh oh this is the stuff of dreams.

idk what to do with myself exactly cus this is so gorgeous. anyway have a moodboard for your efforts cus like my goodness this was lovely to read.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Hunter's Moon (Medieval AU pt. 2)

Epilogue

With everyone settled at the Abbey, Rain and Dew think about taking the final step in their relationship. Swiss and Mountain spend some quality time together outside of its walls and return with something – or someone – rather unexpected.

This is it! Thank you so, SO much for following along!! 🖤🖤🖤

I think that's going to be it for these characters for a while, unless inspiration strikes me. I have more ideas for a new fic that has been on hold since before I started writing this (as the “short 15k” fic it was meant to be), but in the meantime I've slowly posting my character designs from this AU, linked via my AU masterpage.

Rating: T Content: young orphaned ghouls Words: 6952

I'll leave y'all alone for a while now this is done lol, @ashthewaterghoul @bloodfin @cosmicseafoam @everybodyshusband @jazz-bazz @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan @midnight-moth @nefariousghoul @papaslittlesunshine @zombiequeen777 @0-miles-away @ghostedrain

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

By the time late autumn rolled around and the final auburn leaves on the trees that matched the colour of Mountain's hair began to fall, so too did Swiss and Mountain fall further for each other. As sure as the turning of the seasons, the pair were undoubtedly soulmates.

Life had changed far less than any of them could have expected: they had been so close for so long now that this new step in their relationship was not as monumental a shift as they had thought it might be. Their days were still spent by each other's sides when it was possible, or in each other's thoughts when it was not. Even the other ghouls had a hard time remembering the time before they were a pair.

The winter was one of hibernation for all the ghouls, sheltering behind the thick walls of the Abbey. The warm temperatures inside matched the warmth of their new family as they huddled together in the Den of an evening, watching the snow fall and paint the ground in a pristine, gleaming blanket of white.

As he had in the long winter nights at their farm, Dew had taken his responsibility as pack heater very seriously. In the same way Rain had helped him connect to his hidden water element, he had grown more attuned to fire after spending time with the Abbey's fire ghouls, and his magic was stronger than it had ever been now that he had found a community within them. Some of the older ghouls who remembered him from his previous time at the Abbey were still a little off with him, but none were outright rude, and Dew was finally self-assured enough to know that he could not force everyone to like him.

He especially liked Ifrit. Despite their very different personalities, with Ifrit being so outgoing that Dew thought he could walk up to a wild bear and try to befriend it – or scarier still, to Mountain – they were becoming fast friends. As another fire ghoul who had run away from his clan while still very young, they had a lot in common. Dew's mischievous side, one that had evolved and mellowed out of his already quick temper, complemented his new friend's perfectly, much to the chagrin of the ghouls who crossed their paths.

One such ghoul was Mountain. As soon as Dew had found out how scared of him Ifrit was, he had made it his mission to remind the gentle giant of a ghoul about it at every opportunity. It had finally reached the point where Mountain was also becoming afraid of bumping into the young fire ghoul. He thought he should probably apologise, but had no idea how to start or really what he would even be apologising for, and so Swiss had stepped in. The multi ghoul had talked Mountain down, explaining that Ifrit was absolutely fine, despite their first encounter,evident by how Dew always had some story or another about which ghoul or sibling Ifrit had coaxed into bed that week. Eventually, the tensions quieted when Ifrit came to realise that Mountain did not want to gut him on sight, and the whole incident was reduced to a small in-joke between Mountain, Swiss and Dew.

Rain was delighted by each and every new development of Dew's friendships, overjoyed that his beloved ghoul was finally coming out of his shell more. His newfound pod of water ghouls were equally smitten with Dew's continued efforts to learn about and fulfil all the mating traditions their kind were used to. Mist in particular had caught him slacking off his duties in the library on many occasions, having discovered something else he could do to further woo Rain written in an old text and fallen down a rabbit hole of research.

Dew's efforts were certainly paying off: while Rain himself was already deeply smitten with Dew, the rituals he was completing were building the sacred mating bond between them. As millennia of ghouls before him had, Dew was demonstrating his commitment to Rain and any future offspring they may bear in the water ghouls’ own manner.

As sociable a species as they were, their mating traditions were the most private of any ghoul and, like the fluid nature of their element, their bonds were not sealed in a single ceremony. Rather they were an ongoing stream of promises through small actions; forming a bond as a river forms a valley. Whereas quintessence ghouls sealed their bonds in His eyes through the spilling of their mixed blood during a full moon, and earth ghouls funnelled their shared energy into a plant that would grow as strong as their love, both in ceremonies in front of their clans, water ghoul bonds were most precious when they were formed with no witnesses but Him himself.

One day, Rain and Dew's bond would be complete. They hadn't discussed when exactly that would be; they both knew it was something they couldn't put a date on, something they would just feel when the time was right. They had, however, decided that when that day came, they would conclude with one last ritual; this time for Dew. Fire ghouls had a ceremony of their own, a tradition almost diametrically opposed to those of the water ghouls. Instead of building something, creating nests and future resources, fire ghouls would braid small locks of their cut hair together to symbolise their union, before sending it up in flames; their love burning brightly together for their pack to see.

Dew would have plenty of practice by then Rain thought, having received countless intricately braided blankets and other gifts made of woven kelp from the lake that the other water ghouls had helped him harvest. He had thrown himself so deeply into learning about water ghoul culture, Rain felt almost guilty how little he still understood about fire ghouls. Dew seemed unbothered though, and there would always be time for Rain to learn more later. They had forever, after all.

Swiss and Mountain were yet to have a conversation about any sort of mating ceremony, although there was an implicit understanding that it would happen in the Spring. Swiss, as a multi ghoul, had no specific ritual he believed in following; his clan had none of their own that he remembered outside of the human wedding ceremonies they partook in for appearance's sake. Earth ghoul rituals however most commonly took place in the spring. In spite of Mountain’s clan’s more brutal traditions, they had also always celebrated in the traditional way, by planting something meaningful to the couple and funnelling their combined energy and love into it. As most plants did best when planted in the springtime, most mating ceremonies had taken place in the same season.

Of more pressing concern to the pair though was the planning of their upcoming expedition. Once the worst of the winter had passed, they wanted to head out to explore the frozen wilderness to experience it in all its sparkling, icy glory. What neither said aloud, but both had thought, was that they would then still be home in the springtime.

Home. It was a new experience for Swiss, knowing he could travel and still have a place to return to. Finally, he could appreciate the land they lived in, and experience existing in nature rather than merely surviving in it. For the first time since he was young, he felt the grounding presence of home; a guide rope back to the surface when he explored too deep. It had taken him a while to realise that home wasn't necessarily a place, but rather a feeling. Losing his city and his family all at once had made the two feel so connected, and his wandering in the many years that followed had lacked either one. In finding his new pack, he had simultaneously found his new home in the village and so he had still never had to think of them separately.

The Abbey was his home now, to be sure, but that hardly mattered. The difference in scenery here compared to their little farm was stark, and yet the feeling was the same. His home wasn't a place; it was his pack. Leaving the village had felt nothing like leaving his city: he had his pack with him still, and wherever they were was home.

Going travelling with Mountain, instead of feeling like he was leaving his home behind, actually felt exciting. After all, he would be taking a part of his home with him; the part that lived deep inside his heart. He couldn't leave anything behind, not when he carried all of his packmates’ love so close to him. The thought brought a peace and security to Swiss that he hadn't felt so deeply and truly since he was young.

They left after the last frost, when the weather was starting to warm up again but before the snow had fully melted. The pack had waved the pair off one crisp morning, even Copia joining them at the main doors to wish them well and watch as they strode off between dew-kissed trees. The chill was invigorating as they hoisted their packs further up onto their shoulders and bade a fond farewell to their home, at least for a while.

It wouldn't be a long trip, not this time, they had agreed. The world was wide and there was so much to explore, but for now they would stick to their plan of heading to the mountains. Copia had helped them acquire supplies from the nearby village; sturdy boots, fur coats, proper sleeping mats and food rations. They had tried to insist that they make their own way, but he had assured them that it was nothing: really just fair payment for their work so far around the Abbey.

If things were tougher than expected, they could turn back. There was no urgency to their exploration, no pressure to hurry along the paths ahead, and the freedom of it was intoxicating. Certainly, the camping part of their expedition was perhaps a sore subject after the rather difficult time they had had travelling to the Abbey, but there had been other factors which made that journey harder than necessary. This trip was all about enjoying nature, just the two of them. Mountain could – and indeed Swiss hoped he would – show off his knowledge and love for the world he had grown up alongside, and Swiss would finally be able to see more of it, building the connection with their environment that most other ghouls had. Most importantly, he had the best ghoul in the world to show it to him.

Trekking along the valley that separated the Abbey from the mountains ahead had been so peaceful, full of a tranquillity that Swiss hadn't known he could feel. They were completely alone under the ice blue sky with a contented silence falling between them for large swathes of the day, and yet it was never quiet. The twittering of birds rang out overhead, the myriad conversations of a species he would never understand and yet could somehow grasp the meaning of completely. Beside them, the river tumbled by in a constant jumble of excitement and frenzy. They hadn't been away long, yet everything was already so much more enjoyable than their hurried trip north months previously.

Ascending the mountain had an altogether more solemn atmosphere, the chaos of the river far behind, and the crunching of their feet the loudest sound. The air grew colder as they climbed, and the terrain shifted from compacted earth and leafy flora to jagged rocks and equally angular evergreens. Despite the quiet, it was still clear that the mountain was full of life. From animal tracks and spindly nests high up in the rocks, to iron footholds hammered into sheer cliffs and rickety rope bridges neither of them was brave – or perhaps foolish - enough to cross.

At one point, Swiss had been convinced he had spotted a yeti, a vast off-white figure far away in the distance reaching up with a tremendous bellow that echoed as far as him and Mountain. The tracks left in the snow when they eventually dared to continue on told a different story; a large bear, its fur covered in snow, seemed a much more reasonable explanation.

The joy of exploration was infectious, capturing both of their imaginations. They trekked over glaciers, frozen rivers of ice trapped in the stony grip of the peaks around them and emerged from valleys into blinding sunlight. As they approached, the animals who called the frozen landscape home scattered, hiding away in their dens to stay warm in their own fur coats rather than the man-made ones Swiss and Mountain wore.

They had continued hiking up until they reached the summit, looking out over the world enveloped in a blanket of clouds. It was nothing like Swiss had ever seen before, everything else they knew seeming so distant down below. Stood on the snowy peak, it truly felt like he and Mountain were staring out at everything ever made while simultaneously being the last two lives on earth.

Descending the mountain had almost been harder than ascending, watching every footfall with deep concentration. It was that concentration that had allowed them to sense the nearby presence of life, Swiss's small quintessence sense niggling in the back of his mind for several miles already. Mountain had also spotted tracks that seemed more humanoid than beast, although he had put them out of his mind as an impossibility. They were almost down to the valley now, and then it would be just one more day of travel to reach the closest town where they could rest fully and recoup supplies.

It was as they were carefully picking their way down a rocky scree that they spotted them; tucked behind a boulder, almost entirely hidden under the spindly shrub growing around it, were two pairs of dark purple eyes staring fearfully out at them. Swiss stopped abruptly, almost causing Mountain to crash into him and send him flying down the slope, before smiling cautiously at the cowering figures. They were ghouls, that he could tell instantly, quintessence ghouls judging by their eyes and the faint static buzz that lingered in the air around them.

“Hi there,” he cooed softly, as though he was approaching a wounded animal, “are you alright?”

The figures didn't move, staring unblinkingly up at the two towering ghouls casting a shadow over their hiding spot. Swiss realised how they must look and crouched down, motioning for Mountain to do the same. The earth ghoul fished some food out of his pack as he did, passing it to Swiss who gently placed it in front of him, before shuffling backwards to give the ghouls space.

One of them, a male, scuttled forward, his eyes never leaving the two strangers as he reached out a long, skinny arm to grab the bread and fruit. He retreated as quickly as he had emerged, but he didn't tuck himself quite as tightly behind the rock this time. Spindly fingers split the chunk of bread down the centre, giving the larger section to the ghoul behind him, before doing the same with the dry ribbons of apple leather.

“My name's Swiss,” the multi ghoul smiled again, keeping his tone gentle, “what's yours?”

The flicker in the ghouls' eyes told him they understood him, even if they seemed reluctant to speak themselves. Mountain introduced himself too, trying to aid Swiss with the amicable, non-threatening atmosphere he was building.

“'M Mountain.” Swiss heard him shuffle, knees likely burning from crouching after walking for so many weeks, before seemingly losing his balance and landing on the dirt path with a grunt. As he winced, rubbing his backside that smarted from the fall, the pair of ghouls glanced at each other, giggling softly.

Swiss followed suit, flopping down into a seated position himself. The quintessence ghouls seemed instantly more relaxed now nether of the large strangers were in any position to pounce, or even move, in a hurry. The second one crept out from behind the rock to get a better look at them, whispering in the other's ear. She was a ghoulette, they realised.

“What are you doing out here? Are you with someone?” Swiss continued, hoping they spoke the same language while wanting to check there would not be an angry clan of quintessence ghouls descending upon them for accosting their young any time soon. The pair of youngsters whispered to each other again before meeting his gaze, clearly putting on their bravest faces.

“Ph-phantom,” the ghoul stuttered out as the ghoulette grabbed his hand to reassure him, “my sister–”

“I'm Aurora,” she almost whispered, “and we're all alone.” She fixed Swiss with a beady gaze, clearly growing with confidence as he and Mountain continued to stay flat on the ground.

“You're going to help us?” she spoke with a stronger voice now, as though her own thoughts were solidifying in front of her. Swiss supposed she was quintessence, and some of them had a way of knowing things that rivalled even the air ghouls, back at the Abbey.

“You have food,” the first ghoul said again, watching Mountain cautiously, “where from?”

Digging more out of his pack Mountain attempted a smile of his own, careful to keep his lips in front of his teeth to not appear more threatening than he knew he likely already did.

“We brought it with us,” he replied quietly, gesturing into the valley below, “we came from down there, we wanted to see the mountains.”

The ghouls looked at him, then at the distant valley, then back at him.

“Our family lived on the mountain,” Aurora, the ghoulette, said sadly, “but they're all gone now.” She turned her head into her brother’s chest, and he wrapped protective, albeit skeletal, arms around her comfortingly.

Swiss and Mountain exchanged glances – any threat that could wipe out a whole clan of quintessence ghouls would be a threat to them to.

“A ghoul,” the male nodded gravely, “he hurt our Mama.”

“Do you know where he went?” Mountain asked gently but with enough urgency that both ghouls paused in their chewing to look up at him. Exchanging a glance, they both pointed up and over the mountain, away from the direction they were headed. Maybe Swiss’ earlier conviction about seeing a yeti wasn’t totally unfounded, but was instead something rather more threatening. Mountain sighed in relief however; they had seemingly missed him and he was unlikely to cause any future problems for them as they headed south and away from the mountainous territory.

“We’re very happy you’re safe,” Swiss was still talking to them like they were a pair of wounded animals, but they seemed to be responding well to it, “they hurt your Mama, but could we help you find the rest of your family?”

They shook their heads in sync.

“Papa told us to run,” Aurora, evidently the more talkative one, raised her head again to speak, “but we felt his energy go dark. Everyone’s did.”

“We left them.” Phantom whimpered, his lower lip wobbling but keeping a brave face up and refusing to let tears fall. It was the ghoulette’s turn to comfort him, whispering words the two older ghouls could not hear.

Swiss felt his heart breaking for the young pair. He knew intimately the exact struggle they had been though, and at a similar age. Having each other would help them, but nothing could truly ease the pain they felt. Time would help them, but freedom from guilt was something he had spent many years battling, something he had learned may never be possible to live without. He lived despite it though, and he prayed with every fibre of his being that these ghouls would learn to too. There and then, Swiss made them a silent promise: he would never let them beat themselves up the way he had done. He would walk over hot coals before he let harm come to them.

Jolting back into the present, Swiss felt Mountain’s gaze on him.

“You’re staring, Love.” He whispered under his breath, concerned for the multi ghoul.

“Sorry.” He muttered, hoping he hadn’t frightened the siblings. Mountain distracted them by offering his waterskin, while Swiss regained his composure. Rather than fear though, the pair seemed more curious in Swiss than ever, as if they recognised something lurking behind his eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, shifting his weight to make himself more comfortable on the hard ground, “something very similar happened to my family too. I was about your age, and I thought I had a great life. I didn’t have any brothers of sisters like you two, but I had lots of cousins. Friends too, who lived nearby.”

He left out the parts about his friends being human – that ghoulish abnormality could wait until they fully trusted him.

“One day, our home was attacked just like yours. My parents wanted me to run, so did my whole family, but I wanted to warm my friends to get away too!”

He felt four bright violet points laser-focussed on him, but unexpectedly two green ones too. Thinking about it, he supposed Mountain had never heard the full story before; only the sanitised version he had sung about in the tavern on occasion.

“My parents begged me to run with them, but I was young and stubborn. I tried to help my friends, but they didn’t want to leave our home. When I tried to run after my family I found my parents had stayed to wait for me, but they–”

The two young ghouls looked solemnly back at Swiss, understanding they shouldn’t have had at their young age clear in their eyes. Swiss heard shuffling behind him, until he felt Mountain’s arms snake around his waist and his chin hook over his shoulder, comforting him. Understanding the truth behind the city’s fall was one thing, but Mountain had not known anything of the guilt Swiss still harboured over it.

“They died protecting me, so I know how you feel,” Swiss summarised, not having expected to bring up the well-buried memories of their cold, still faces when he awoke that morning, “but it’s not your fault, alright?”

Phantom and Aurora nodded fervently, a newfound understanding and kinship on their faces behind the pain that was so apparent there.

“So please, trust me when we ask that you come with us now. We can help you, I promise.”

“There’ll be more food?” Phantom asked hopefully, already eyeing up Mountain’s bag again.

“All the food you can eat.” Mountain chuckled. Despite everything, he supposed they were still normal young ghouls at heart.

They looked to Swiss as though awaiting confirmation. He smiled and nodded, amused at how quickly they had decided he was trustworthy with just some food scraps and a few understanding words. It was good they had found them first; quintessence ghouls were powerful, and he didn’t want to think what could have happened had they been captured by any other ghoul seeking to abuse that power for their own ends.

“There’s other ghouls where we’re going too,” Swiss continued, “good ghouls – they’re like our family.”

The pair exchanged another look, before Aurora spoke up in a very small voice.

“How far is it to your family?”

“It’s still quite a long way,” Swiss winced apologetically, thinking of how weary they already were, “maybe one more day down the mountain to where we can get more food, then another week beyond there?”

“Less if we hire a horse and cart,” Mountain murmured in his ear, “they wouldn’t have to walk, and we could all get back sooner.”

He had a point – they had discovered on their outbound journey that several of the towns between here and the Abbey had operated on a trading network; fresh fruits and vegetables from around the Abbey making their way to the colder climate of the foothills, and stables loaning mounts between the settlements.

“Less than a week,” Swiss corrected himself, looking at the forlorn faces in front of him, “just one more day by foot, then we could travel the rest of the way in just a few days with a wagon and horse.”

“We’re going to help you,” Mountain spoke up with surprising conviction, “you’re not alone anymore.”

With some effort on everyone’s part, the two young ghouls eventually scrambled to their feet and the small party could continue a halting descent down the last of the mountain. Their shoes, while they looked to have been suitable for the terrain some time ago, were worn and thin, and Swiss began to wonder if they wouldn’t be better off simply carrying the two scraps of ghouls. They remained glued to each other’s side though, and he could see no benefit that could come from tearing them apart.

Besides, with each step, the pair seemed to grow in confidence; their tired and sluggish steps becoming nimble and light. This was after all the terrain they were familiar with, made evident as they hopped effortlessly over the rough surfaces like mountain goats. They weren’t speaking much, both clearly still on-edge, even though as quintessence ghouls they could most probably feel that there was no animosity or danger from the large ghouls they were travelling with.

Their progress slowed as the ground flattened out, the paths made soft with the beginnings of the snowmelt from higher lands. Swiss and Mountain urged them on to where they knew they could make camp with promises of hot food, but both knew the rest of the way to the town tomorrow would be a struggle. So much for an relaxed trip thought Mountain, flashbacks of their original flight to the Abbey with a sick Rain at the forefront of his mind.

Something else about the two quintessence ghouls would become difficult in the morning too: their less-than-human appearances. Both seemed to be having trouble with their glamours; their horns and tails hidden safely away but their other unnatural features still clearly on display. Any human who so much as glanced at them currently would be left with the very distinct impression that they were not of this world.

The ghoul had black, shaggy hair with an almost-luminous white streak that kept falling in his eyes, and matching silver blotches scattered across his dark grey skin. The ghoulette was an opposite in complexion, so pale she could have blended in with the mountain snow, if not for her equally dark hair that flickered in a rainbow of colours like oil on water. They had near-identical facial features, down to the glowing shade of violet of their eyes, making Swiss wonder if they weren’t just brother and sister but rather twins. Any siblings were rare enough by ghoulish standards, but twins were almost unheard of.

Aside from their most clearly inhuman features, both ghouls were also concerningly skinny and malnourished, enough to attract unwanted attention even if they did get their glamours together overnight. Swiss and Mountain would have to split up tomorrow, an added complication, with only one of them going near the town while the others waited outside and out of view of the humans.

Finally, the group made it to where Mountain wanted to make camp. The sun had almost entirely set as he went about pulling foliage into a makeshift cover and Swiss built and lit a fire. Phantom and Aurora huddled around it as the flames caught, so close that a protective instinct in Swiss wanted to beg them to sit back a little.

Neither Swiss nor Mountain slept much that night, both too distracted by the quiet huffing breaths of the sleeping quintessence ghouls.

“They're so young, they didn’t deserve any of this.” Swiss whispered forlornly into the air in front of him as Mount held him close to his chest, neither taking their eyes off the small sleeping forms curled together for security and warmth.

“They’re practically still kits, Mount. They can't be much older than when I was when I ended up alone!” He sniffed loudly, holding back tears in Mountain’s reassuring arms.

“Hey, shh…” The earth ghoul rocked him comfortingly. “They’re safe now, they’re here with us.”

Swiss sniffed again, wetly, as Mountain rocked him soothingly.

“And you turned out wonderful, you know? If they have the chance to put their lives back together now, think what they'll be like when they’re all grown up.”

His next sniff was a more resolute one; a promise to so good by the young ghouls.

The next day, everything went smoother than they could have expected. After a slightly rocky start with the two young ghouls waking up and forgetting their unfamiliar surroundings and company for a moment, they set out on their way, slowly. Swiss had waited with them well outside the town limits, as they still seemed most comfortable with him, and he worked hard to keep them distracted with the last of their food while Mountain headed into the town.

He returned a few hours later, pack refilled and a rented horse and cart in tow. Before they left the Abbey, Copia had insisted they take a pouch of emergency money lest they get into trouble, and they couldn’t be more grateful to him for it. They had sworn not to touch it, but knew the old man well enough to know that protecting a pair of young orphaned ghouls would more than count as an emergency in his eyes.

The rest of their journey was swift and uneventful, so much so that Swiss began to wonder if someone was looking out specially for them. Days were still long, and their charges were still skittish at every strange noise and smell, but they made good progress and met surprisingly few other travellers along the road. The young siblings had scarves now, bought for warmth as well as camouflage, draped over their heads which they could hide further behind if they came across any humans. In fact, the only hindrance they had encountered so far was an early spring rain shower, making everyone just a little bit colder and more weary than they already were.

Mountain and Swiss stayed single-minded in their mission to return to the Abbey as quickly as possible, to get the quintessence ghouls somewhere warm and safe where they could begin to heal from their ordeal. Neither would sleep properly or allow themselves to relax until their duty was done.

The air ghoulettes saw them returning, although they had no idea who the figures travelling with their packmates could be. As she had been on the first day of their arrival at the Abbey, Cumulus was waiting by the gate. This time though, Cirrus and their whole pack were also waiting beside her. The arrival of a horse and cart had raised some eyebrows; Mountain and Swiss were not the type of ghouls to shy away from a few days trekking. Had one of them perhaps been injured?

Mountain passed the reigns of their borrowed horse to a waiting Cowbell, who steadied the mare while the wagon's occupants disembarked. The earth ghoul stepped down first, before a murmur of surprise echoed through the assembled ghouls as he turned to help two small ghouls down after him. Swiss brought up the rear.

The pair of larger ghouls, derailing the expected joy and exuberance at their return for now as they stood not facing their pack, protectively ushered their young charges forward to meet the assembled ghouls.

“This is Phantom and Aurora,” Mountain spoke with an authority that suited him well, as unfamiliar to him as it felt, “and they need our help.”

“We can explain more later,” added Swiss in a softer tone, clearly aimed to comfort not only the pair quivering beside him but also his own pack, “but for now, they need hot food and to rest.”

As could have been expected, Cumulus stepped forward immediately, a gentle and welcoming smile replacing the look of confusion on her face.

“Well you're in the right place for that, little ones!” With a glance at Swiss and a nod of confirmation from him, the quintessence ghouls shyly approached her. Cirrus joined her, looking more uncertain than her mate yet also smiling softly at Phantom and Aurora.

“Come on, let's go and get you fed.”

The pair hesitated, observing the assembled crowd of the rest of the pack. They seemed more curious than frightened though, especially of Aether who was hanging back at the rear of the group. Swiss had been worried – although he hadn't said a word – on the final steps of their journey about how they would react to him. Even though he knew Aether was a gentle giant, Swiss had been quietly fearful that his generally large stature and the universal assumption that quintessence ghouls were bullish and violent when others encroached on their territory would frighten the young ghouls. Maybe they sensed his pacifism, or maybe they were simply too naive to know better, as their attention soon switched to observing the rest of the assembled pack.

“Go with them, they'll take good care of you.”

All heads turned to look at Dew, as he suddenly spoke up in a surprisingly sweet tone. Rain squeezed his hand. The promise of a warm meal seemed to finally win out over their intrigue at the collection of new faces, and the two quintessence ghouls trotted after Cumulus and Cirrus.

As soon as they disappeared behind the Abbey walls, Swiss let out a tremendous sigh of relief and slumped against Mountain. They had got the pair here in one piece and they were now safe, at last. The mood was more sombre than anyone could have expected for what sould have been a joyous reunion, but it was very clear why.

“They'll be fine,” Mountain rubbed Swiss’ lower back comfortingly, “they've got no choice with those two looking after them.”

Swiss smiled weakly.

“Well that was all very unexpected.” Sunshine said lightly, shattering the strange silence that had befallen the group. That seemed to do the trick, as Swiss finally felt able to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Finally, the pack had the reunion they had been expecting. Amid the hugs and loud questions from all the ghouls, and Aether admitting he had used the same calming quintessence trick he used on his more anxious patients in the infirmary on Phantom and Aurora, they heard a commotion as Copia came jogging across the crunchy gravel, robes askew.

“My ghouls! I just heard that you had returned!” He coughed and composed himself, red-faced and out of breath as he was, slightly embarrassed at his undignified appearance. “I am delighted. I trust you had an enjoyable time – and what was this I heard about some young newcomers?”

“Sorry we couldn't send news ahead, Papa,” Swiss was quick to apologise, “and it's a long story!”

The man smiled indulgently.

“Let us retire inside then! You must tell me all about your trip. All of us are desperate to know every detail!”

Swiss and Mountain shared a look.

“If it's alright Papa, I'd like to check on the new ghouls first. Just to check they're settling in.”

“Ah my, of course,” Copia patted Swiss gently on the shoulder, “forgive an over-excited old man. It has been so long since I had adventures of my own you see! I'll be in my study, when you have time.”

Phantom and Aurora were doing just fine, it turned out. The ghoulettes had settled them in front of their Den fire, as they had for Dewdrop all those years before, and they were happily ripping into a whole roasted chicken Cumulus had smuggled out of the kitchen. They looked up at Swiss from the floor with matching grins, shiny with food grease, and his heart had melted. He could see why ghouls would go to war over their kits.

Over the weeks that followed, the young ghouls had filled out some, losing the hungry glint in their eyes. Swiss had quickly found that in helping them, it had also helped him work through his lingering feelings about his past. The pair looked up to him, which he hadn’t been expecting. Whether they had just latched onto the first person they met, or if they really did feel a kinship with him from their similar backgrounds, it didn’t matter. They were clearly looking for a role model and so he would be one.

Their personalities had also started to shine through, shyness now almost entirely evaporated. Aurora was the more independent one, that was abundantly clear. She was smart and witty, and Swiss thought she could probably run the whole Abbey if left to her own devices. Phantom had been quieter to start with, clearly the more sensitive of the two, but he borrowed a confidence from his sister in a way that was endearing to watch.

Swiss had noticed him mimicking some of his own actions too, and it gave him a strange feeling in his stomach – pride, possibly? He was planning to teach Phantom to play the guitar soon – the ghoul had shown a great deal of interest already, his tongue sticking out between his teeth as Swiss showed him how to play a chord or two. Aurora seemed less interested in the guitar. If anything, she was more into dancing; twirling around with the other young ghoulettes of the Abbey and singing along while her brother sat watching the band's performances, utterly enraptured.

As sweet as their early idolatry of him had been, Swiss had been worried about them getting to know other ghouls their own age. Mountain had reassured him countless times that they would be fine without him interfering and he had been right, of course. They had quickly settled into a wing of the Abbey mostly occupied by other quintessence ghouls. Led by Delphinia from the infirmary, they were continuing the pair’s education starting with their clearly-lacking glamours. Swiss found himself feeling like an older pack member to them; he was not used to ever being seen as responsible, but it felt good.

The rest of the pack couldn’t help but feel a fondness for Phantom and Aurora either. Their interest in Aether hadn’t wavered when he stopped using his own quintessence to calm them – if anything it only served to make them more curious, and he was happy to indulge their attempts to practice their newly-learned skills on him.

Dew however was utterly fascinated by them. He had never seen twins before in his life, only ever hearing exaggerated horror stories featuring them, told under the cover of night. From the first moment he met Phantom and Aurora, with their perfectly synchronised head-turns and a continued unsettling silence, he had been captivated. Dew had quickly learned that the pair were definitely not scary at all; especially Phantom, when his eyes would unknowingly blink out of sync with each other. It remined him of a frog.

For ghouls that looked only a little younger than the age Rain had been when he first joined the clan, they both seemed pretty clueless. To think; he had first thought Rain to be the most sheltered ghoul in existence! Naive would have been a better description for the young siblings, but Dewdrop had never claimed to be anything but clueless himself.

As they settled, Dew remained absolutely enchanted by them. He chose to ignore the niggling thought in his brain that perhaps he was feeling the exact same thing Cirrus and Cumulus had felt when he first arrived, bedraggled and pathetic, on their doorstep.

~~~~~~~

As the final vestiges of winter faded and spring fully embraced the earth with her arms, so full of life, Swiss and Mountain only grew closer, knowing what their next step would be.

On a sunny morning with the sky filled with birdsong, Swiss, Mountain and their pack gathered under the freshly green canopy of trees in their garden. Together, the pair pushed handfuls of earth around the myrtle sapling beside the bench that had been the site of so many key moments in their story together. Laying their hands side by side on the soil, they poured all the love they had for each other, and for the earth that had brought them together and held them close, into its roots. The tiny flicker of green-gold from Swiss’ fingertips was a new sight for Mountain and he gasped in astonishment.

“I’ve been practicing,” Swiss whispered with a conspiratorial smile, “specially for this. For you”.

The beaming smile Mountain gave him could have rivalled the brightness of the sun.

On that warm spring day, with the whole pack celebrating the formal union of two of their number, there was only room for love. The love that had been simmering between Swiss and Mountain for longer than either could remember, the love that had blossomed so suddenly between Dewdrop and Rain, but most of all the love that the whole pack shared.

Not one of them had room in their thoughts today to dwell on the events that had brought them to the Abbey, or the reasons they had ended up in the village in the first place. None of them could ever forget those past hardships, but they could choose to move on from them; to set them aside for this brief moment and embrace the parts of life that hadn’t been dealt to them but that they had chosen instead. Today, they had all decided to focus on love.

[jasntodds]

Penance Chapter 2 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 6/12

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader Teaser Words: 1,716 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, mentions of canon violence Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞ It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right? Right? A/N: I'm having problems with my taglist?? I'm trying desperately to get it to work properly so please bear with me lol I'm always going to post some sort of update when this fic will be posted just in case so you can search my blog under "penance" if you haven't been tagged in anything in a week!! A teaser or chapter will be posted every week!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It's a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn't entirely sure what he's going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he'll just take it from there. It's not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he's not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you've made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it's under the circumstances of Robin. There's also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there's going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There's going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It's going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he's okay and happy. You're excited just to see how he's doing.

You're laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason's and Dick's. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it's longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand. 

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason's eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It's a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just...two nights in a row seems...odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it's still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get them to communicate and...maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can't let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he's ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn't make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can't find himself to be mad because you'll never abandon Tim so even if you don't speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you've melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you've never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you've just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job. 

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes him want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was...similar. It's like he's getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

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[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good. 

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it. 

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship. 

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi. 

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again. 

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him. 

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection. 

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard. 

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual. 

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi. 

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol. 

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again. 

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written. 

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened. 

Déjà vu? 

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there. 

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up. 

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out.  When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception. 

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now. 

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start. 

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back. 

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you. 

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter. 

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back. 

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile. 

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once. 

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day. 

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted march 27, 2023]

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

JJK Fic Ideas

I made this as a reblog on another post of mine but I think not many people saw it so I'll post separately here as well lol.

Okay, I’ll add a few of my ideas. All of them have chubby reader inserts because I said so. Also a few of them have dark content.

1. Trainer!Gojo

This one is more canon divergent than an actual AU. This one has a lot of backstory lore. Reader is a foreigner in Japan, she and her boyfriend get attacked by a cursed spirit, her dormant powers get triggered, Gojo saves them. She finds out why her powers were never triggered beforehand and Gojo convinces her to come to Jujutsu High. She’s an adult so she can’t exactly be a regular student, so he makes her his teacher’s assistant. He trains her, they get close, she forms a crush on him and he’s attracted to her to the point it becomes distracting. They start an ill-advised friends-with-benefits situation and it’s very… messy. But they admit they’re in love with each other. Might have a happy ending, might have a bittersweet ending, idk.

2. Neighbor!Nanami

Self-explanatory. This one is also more canon divergent than a full AU because he’s still a sorcerer. The reader is his sweet new neighbor who keeps bringing him baked goods. They’re attracted to each other, but he doesn’t want to get a regular human involved in his dangerous life. She asks him to go out to dinner with her on a whim (as friends), and he accepts despite himself. They slowly get closer over time, end up hooking up against his better judgment, and he keeps her at arm’s length after that. Things work out, they fall in love. It’s cute.

3. Roommates!Gojo and Geto AU

This one is also self-explanatory. Gojo and Geto want a third roommate after Shoko moves out, and reader is the lucky gal who they accept. They both think she’s cute. We get a throuple situation with lots of hijinks.

4. Neighbor!Toji and Kid!Megumi AU

Toji is a single father to 6 year old Megumi and is constantly gone for work (no sorcery in this one but he is a hitman lol). Megumi is alone a lot because of this, and one day he forgets his key while Toji is gone and gets locked out of the apartment. The reader comes home from work to see him sitting there and decides to let him stay at her apartment until his dad gets home, which isn’t until very late. He’s pissy about it at first, but when he sees how well taken care of Megumi is, he chills out. And then shamelessly flirts with her, but she rejects his advances. He doesn’t plan to ask her for help, but ends up needing to. They slowly become friends while Megumi opens up and gets attached to her as a mother figure. She discovers Toji has a dark secret but sticks by him and they end up starting a fling, which eventually turns into more. It’s very sweet.

5. Yakuza Clan AU

Sukuna is the boss, Geto is his advisor, Gojo is his second-in-command, Nanami is the treasurer, Toji is the enforcer, and Choso is head of surveillance. Now some of these aren’t like official titles or anything, more so what he wants and needs for his inner circle. I did some research on how the yakuza works but not like… extensively cos this is still fiction. Reader is sold to them by a human trafficker and she becomes their plaything (this one is really dark). The ending won’t exactly be happy regardless of how it turns out.

6. Vampire Coven AU

Sukuna is the coven leader, the other five are just members of the coven. The reader becomes their “pet”, aka their blood bag/toy (also very dark). Now this vampire one has grown extensive lore with lots of coven/clan politics. I went apeshit on the world-building with this one and tbh I’m the most excited to potentially write this. All the main 6 guys have extensive backstories on how they joined the coven and despite being a dark fic, there’s lots of tender moments and it will have a “happy”(?) ending.

7. Incubus!Sukuna AU

Sukuna finds the reader, thinks she’s cute, then proceeds to torment her. No real plot for this one (yet). Might just be a one-shot. Also dark. Obviously.

8. Ex!Geto and Friends-To-Lovers!Gojo

This one is gonna be real sad because it essentially follows the plot of JJK. Reader was with Geto when they were young. Geto leaves for his twisted ideals, and she and Gojo are left to pick up the pieces together and end up falling in love. Just very bittersweet and tragic all around. Season two ruined my life.