#its fine to have a preference. but to straight up Refuse to even Consider watching something is absolutely braindead behavior

[girlwiththegreenhat]

actually no the next person to say "i don't watch cartoon movies" with "cartoon" specifically in reference to anything animated at All personally owes me $50 and their left kneecap

[writing-for-the-gays]

hi its me againnnn,,, ermm i would like to request poly billy x stu x (ftm, fat, hairy ect ect) reader again :3c but fluff HCs this time :3c

-🐛 anon

Ough these boys be home of sexuals in a world of homes of phobics , continuation of the other fic actually. Disk jockey reader. Again me and 🐛 anon are holding hands and frolicking through fields.

No pretty pic this time I'm reblogging this with memes I made for these fics

Fluff! Tooth rottingly sweet.

"catch my breath and hold it for me."

- you three are a power couple behind a closed door. Infront of people you have to pretend to be very straight with each other (as straight as you three can be, if you three were a line you'd be a circle.)

- to be blunt they're in love with you.

- you got custom rings for each other about a year into the relationship, to symbolize your dedication.

- and these boys take it very seriously. They keep the rings on a necklace they wear underneath their shirts when out , and wear them proudly on their fingers when around you.

- alone Stu and Billy are affectionate, Stu being more like a dog and Billy being more like a cat.

- Stu will run up to you and throw his arms around you I'm a big hug when you walk through the door of his house and Billy will wait until you're all sat down to come up and lay his head on your chest, and whisper to you Abt how much he missed you.

- in conjunction with this is their love language. Billy can be somewhat touch averse, especially after a rough day, or whenever, and has a tendency to pull away if the physical touch is too much, but he loves acts of service, and will often cook for you, and do whatever you ask of him including, but not limited to, murder.

- Stu's big on physical affection, and will hang off your arm whenever he can, hold your hand (he sometimes pretends to be measuring hand size out in public so he can have some more skin to skin contact even when it's not totally socially acceptable.), and kiss you often, but he prefers to do activities with you instead of for you, and tries to get you to do random things with him, it doesn't even matter what it is. You find yourself doing dishes with him more times than you can count.

- it can lead to some really tender moments, and you three really relish in these moments. It's one of your favorite parts of the relationship.

- Stu being trans means that when you're binding you get tons of reminders to take breaks, especially considering the fact that binding methods around this time aren't exactly safe. More often than not you find yourself in a stall with him while he massages your back and checks your ribs.

- Billy has an equal amount of worry, considering he's known Stu since forever and so is intimately familiar with trans topics, but he's less nice about it. He refuses to let you cuddle him or vice versa if you have your binder on. He also helps you take your T injections because Stu can handle a lot, but needles aren't one of them. He does T gel that's how bad it is.

- every night you all rotate who's the middle spoon (what else do I call it).

- Stu's absent parents mean that you've basically decided to move in with him. You don't have the most aware parents either. (Dead, probably.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You laugh gleefully, worn down black and white shoes thud against the concrete as you run past Billy and Stu and onto the top of the playground.

"Fuck you two! I'm the god of this bitch." You shout down to them, slamming your hands on top of the plastic tube slide making a hollow thudding noise that echoes dully in the cool night air.

Billy lets out a snort while Stu lets out loud bark of a laugh. "What? You don't find me powerful enough? Fine you don't get to watch the shooting stars up here with me." You promptly stick your middle fingers up "Have fun on wood-chips!" You playfully sneer, the bright smile on your face portraying the playfulness.

"Not if I can get up there!" Stu says sprinting to the metal platforms that lead up to the playground. You let out a dramatic gasp and race to them as well, giggling the whole time.

Billy looked on with a soft smirk, he eyed the playground and tried to find another way up, spotting a rock wall he snuck around while you jokingly wrestled Stu.

Billy climbed up the rocks, quietly sneaking up onto the playground, tip toeing his way behind you and locked eyes with Stu who smirked.

Billy wrapped his arms around your middle and hauled you back, making you let out a genuine frightened yelp.

"Billy!" You scolded before giggling breathlessly "Fine you two can come up here with me." You say squirming out of Billy's arms you smile up at the starry sky.

Stu sets down a blanket, and sits down on it. You follow and sit next to him leaning your head on his shoulder. Billy lays his head in your lap.

You hum a soft tune and relax into your boys, you and Stu's rings clicking together when you join hands.

Not long after twinkling streaks of light begin to dot the sky and you sigh.

"I don't think there's anywhere else I'd rather be." Billy says softly, and you nod with an awestruck smile not losing your focus on the lights. "Same." Stu says.

You don't notice their gazes locked on you and not the sky.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

-id be fucking dumb not to mention that you all regularly fuck with the radio station when you can.

- you like your job but it's funny to let Stu or Billy just say some dumb shit on air. Nothing too scandalous so you don't get taken off sir but enough to get a solid laugh out of you.

- Stu normally tells what I can boil down to 'haha funny penis joke' and Billy's a little more sophisticated. ('haha funny penis joke but less obvious' basically)

- let me be perfectly clear, Stu and Billy couldn't give less of a shit about what you look like, but the fact you're bigger than the both of them makes them all sorts of soft.

- they call you their 'big bear' and have accidentally called you that multiple times in public (mainly Stu going 'big bear!' when he sees you, he says it's an accident but it may be just to see the panic on everyone's face for a second.)

- Stu likes to wrestle you, especially if you're playing around or in general rough housing. He sometimes pretends it's just guys being guys but it's really just to be close to you in public. He also likes the feeling of trying to overpower you because he's definitely not in charge with Billy, but you're nice enough to let him pretend for a little bit.

- in an AU where they don't die, somehow aren't caught for their crimes, and don't do anything dumb enough to get them killed before 2015 they see the legalization of gay marriage across the entire united states. Billy and Stu have a big fight about who gets to legally marry you, of course you're all at the altar, but whoever legally marries you will get to change the last name of the entire polycule.

- you agreed on a hyphenated name but you can only have one of their last names and both of them aren't too keen on changing their name (Billy wins, meaning you're 'Y/n Loomis-L/n' Stu's 'Stu Loomis-L/n' and billy is of course 'Billy Loomis-L/n')

- by the start of the reception Stu isn't angry anymore and keeps repeating Mr.Loomis-L/n every time he has to say something to one of you two.

- for now you three have different last names but the exact same heart.

[moxielynx]

@whatudottu hihihihiiiii so ur ramblings about tetrax has me wanting to talk about tetrax cause i will take any opportunity to talk about him

d-23 tetrax is cool even if he didnt speak much in the episode, honestly d-23 ben deserved to be smacked around a little (/J /J that kid is like 13 😭), the twist that they were actually the good guys this whole time was great, especially since sixsix was also working with azmuth, which was a nice perspective

i like to imagine that d-23 tetrax is actually a total sweetheart and didnt actually like fighting ben since ben is just a dumb kid who doesnt know any better (even if he is a stubborn brat)

im pretty certain that petropia in the reboot is perfectly fine because for a while Vilgax wasnt. Vilgax, so he couldn't have hired Tetrax to steal whatever that crystal was from petropia then destroy it, so reboot tetrax is just what happens as a result of Tetrax not facing the consequences of his actions so now he's a MEANIE!!! but the dad instinct is still there judging from the way he interacts with Ben in "Mutiny for the Bounty"

as much as i prefer classic tetrax i really like that they went with a completely different approach with reboot tetrax, and like it makes sense too considering theres no way petropia would be destroyed in the reboot as well if vilgax couldnt do it (if petropia were to also get destroyed in the reboot then that would be so funny cause that basically means the planet is fucked no matter what 💀💀), its really cool to see that this might be what tetrax was like before working for vilgax and makes me really think about how different each version of tetrax is, and only makes me even more depressed that we never got prime tetrax in Omniverse, especially since there could've been so many moments where tetrax could've showed up

classic tetrax obviously isnt as cruel and uncaring as we see in the reboot or as he said when he was telling ben about his backstory because if he really didn't care as much but was like "okay this is fucked up i need to get my act together" then he wouldn't have looked so distraught watching his planet fall

i refuse to acknowledge the change in reaction in uaf tho cause it fucking SUCKED they cant just turn him into this stoic fucking guy after he literally shows up and shakes ben like a rattle, that and also they obviously didnt gaf about his backstory cause in the og backstory you can tell petropia's destruction was YEARS, probably decades ago cause he had those back spikes and even a different outfit but in the uaf version its just the same exact model THEY DONT CARE ABOUT TETRAX LIKE I DO!!!!!!

uaf tetrax made me so sad because i was already insane about the idea of dadtrax because of Secret of the Omnitrix, but when tetrax first showed up in uaf he picked up ben and for some reason my first thought was "omg is he going in for a hug" only to have that ripped away from me when he just straight up starts shaking ben around like a ragdoll 😭like imagine you dont see a guy for like 6 years, last time you saw him he helped you save the world/galaxy, and the first thing he does is fucking shatter you for no reason (or at least appears to be no reason), and all you get from it is a "sorry but i had no time to explain", like thats crazy, the REAL tetrax would never harm ben that is his SON !!!!!!!! and then after the single episode we had of tetrax and even petropia we just. never see him or the planet ever again. like we could've had so much world building for petropia and they decided to just throw it out like it was nothing

tetrax is genuinely such a cool character and its horrible how underutilized he is in every show, like yeah he was in 2 (technically 3 counting the reboot) movies but that doesnt really make up for how little we really saw him, especially since like i mentioned earlier prime tetrax wasnt even in OV which is probably the biggest missed opportunity in history, and the strangest part about it is that we got plenty of episodes exploring different planets and even a whole other system (galactic monsters special) so it was literally the perfect opportunity to write an episode about petropia and how its holding up

also never apologize 2 me about rambles, especially rambles about tetrax, i fucking LOVE reading people's silly little thoughts on things they like :3

[the-littlest-goblin]

*shows up to @essek-week 6 days late with all the prompts shoved into one fic*

based on this post by @slayerscake​

___________________________________________________________

Essek, for all his magical skill, had very little experience being a fighter. But you pick things up when you travel with a group that gets in as many scrapes per day as the Mighty Nein—you don’t necessarily learn how to fight well, but you certainly learn how to fight alongside the Mighty Nein.

While Jester is a cleric, try to go unconscious near Caduceus. 

“It’s not that she refuses to heal,” Fjord explained gently as he inspected the gash across Essek’s sternum for signs of poison. They were all a bit paranoid now since discovering that their previous monster encounter had, unbeknownst to them, injected a slow-acting venom into every bite. “She just prefers to take the enemy out first. It’s a strategy thing, you know. Save the healing for after the fight, once the danger’s gone.”

Essek turned his gaze over to Jester. In their post-battle huddle, while Caduceus hummed a healing prayer for the group and Fjord dressed Essek’s wound, she was several yards away helping Veth saw off one of the beast’s talons as a trophy.

 Fjord continued, “Of course, if you’re like, actually dying in front of her, she’ll heal you. I mean…” he trailed off. Sure, Essek hadn’t exactly been dead-dead when he’d collapsed next to Jester during the fight, but he wasn’t far from it. The last, ironic thought he’d registered before consciousness slipped away was how fortunate it was to fall in battle right next to a cleric. As his eyes fell shut, it was with anticipation that he would be up again in a second to rejoin the fray. 

When he had finally awoken, it was Caduceus’ face smiling over him, not Jester’s, and the ferocious monster had long since been turned into a carcass.

“Mm-hmm.”

Fjord sighed and sat back on his heels. “Just, maybe next time, if you have to go down, try to go down closer to Caduceus.”

“Noted,” Essek grumbled, watching with nauseated fascination as his skin knit itself back together in time with the melody of Caduceus’ spell.

When in doubt, polymorph.

“I am a bit surprised you don’t already have this in your repertoire. I have found it to be incredibly useful.”

Essek shrugged, shoving off the automatic sting of embarrassment that came with admitting ignorance. He didn’t need to feel that way around Caleb.

“Well, I have rarely found myself in a position to fly over rough terrain or transform a terrifying monster into a sloth. Until now, that is.” 

Caleb laughed lightly. “Such is the adventuring life, I suppose.” He smiled, taking a break from flipping through his spellbook to look up at Essek. Even this brief moment of eye-contact felt so charged with energy that Essek had to avert his gaze, the sense-memory of guilt welling up in his throat threatening to choke him. The intensity of Caleb’s undivided attention was still difficult for him to bear. His fingers twitched to rub at the burning spot on his forehead. Instead, he gripped his pen tighter. 

“Here.” Caleb flipped his book around to show Essek the page dedicated to the Polymorph spell, covered in transmutation runes. Essek recognized a few of the symbols in passing. “This should be easy for you to copy down. Then we can practice a bit. I think you’ll find casting it on yourself makes for a rather enjoyable pastime.”

Buff the lesbians. 

Essek’s eyes darted between Caleb and Caduceus, unsure how to interpret this piece of advice. “Um, can you be more specific?” 

Caduceus blinked at him, seeming confused. “Specific how? You mean like, which spells you should use on them?”

“No, I meant specific as in to whom you were referring. I just…” Essek glanced awkwardly around the table. Most of the group was distracted, digging into the enormous feast provided by Caleb’s clowder of feline servants. They were all worn out from a long day of hard travel and enjoying the warm reprieve of the tower.

Essek cleared his throat, trying to discreetly lower his voice without making it obvious that he was being secretive. “I have not exactly been given a briefing on all of your individual sexual preferences.”

“Oh, I can fix that!” Jester cut in. Apparently Essek’s attempts to be clandestine had failed, as they always seemed to with this group. “Caleb is—”

“That is alright, thank you,” Essek swiftly cut her off. His cheeks were already burning red-hot. “Can you please just tell me who ‘the lesbians’ are in this circumstance?”

He could feel Beau’s glare boring through him all the way from the other end of the table as she stared incredulously over her magical flask of whiskey. “You should really be able to figure that out yourself, man.”

Squishy wizards stay away from fights.

“Stay. Here.” Yasha’s growl was twice as terrifying as the insectoid beast screaming over their heads, and Essek was pretty sure the force from her shoving him behind the rocks was going to leave just as big a bruise as getting smacked by the creature’s tail, if not bigger. “Hide.”

“I was trying to help,” Essek muttered, a mixture of shame and indignation pushing him to defend himself to her.

“I know. You can help by staying alive.” A hint of softness entered Yasha’s gruff voice, although its effect was mitigated when she hefted up her massive sword. Essek instinctually slunk away from the arc of the blade. “Fighters get close, wizards hang back. That’s how we do things in this family.” She smiled at him, and another layer of the ice around Essek’s heart melted. “That’s how we keep you and Caleb from snapping like twigs. Save the close-range spells for when things are really desperate.”

Essek nodded his affirmation. Yasha turned and began running back into the melee, letting out an almighty roar. Just before she went out of range, Essek reached out his hands, whispering the incantation and twisting his fingers around the fabric of time that surrounded her large frame. Yasha paused for a moment as the effects of the Haste spell hit her, then turned to flash Essek another smile and a thumbs up.

That’s how we do things in this family.

You have to look sexy when using spells.

“I really do not understand the purpose of this.”

“We’re just trying to help you out!” Veth grinned at him mischievously. Somehow, the ghost of a goblin’s snarl showed through her straight halfling teeth. “Every good adventurer knows aesthetics are crucial to effective spellcasting.”

“That’s not—”

“Plus, we’re not fighting in the cold anymore,” Jester added. “We don’t want you to get overheated in the middle of battle.”

“That… really isn’t an issue.” But he knew resistance was useless when it came to these two. Resigned to his fate, Essek dutifully lifted the mantle over his head and began undoing the fastenings of his cloak. 

Outer layer discarded, he lifted his arms up half heartedly to show his self-appointed image consultants the results. “Is this satisfactory?”

“Hmmmm,” Jester tilted her head to the side, considering him. “Can you try rolling up your sleeves?”

“I’m not taking off my shirt!”

“No one asked you to!” Veth hopped off her chair to circle around Essek, studying him with an intensity she usually reserved for things she was about to shoot. “Now, show us your stance.”

“My what?”

“You know, your sexy fighting stance.” Veth stopped in place, whipping out her crossbow and striking a dramatic pose. 

“Um…” Essek attempted to mimic her, one hand on the meteorite pendant that served as his arcane focus, the other reaching out as if he were about to cast a spell. “Like this?”

Jester tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, that tank top did look really good on you, Essek.”

Essek put his head in his hands.

If you get charmed there is going to be a very high chance of Beau punching you to snap you out of it. 

A constellation's worth of stars swam in Essek’s vision, pain bursting through his head like a reverberating drum; he could feel the nasty bruise blooming at his temple where Beauregard had struck him. Blinking away the stars, he turned just in time to see Beau’s fist heading towards him once again, this time making expert contact with his jaw. The force of this second blow sent him hurtling toward the ground, knocking the wind out of him. 

Amid the pain, a sense of clarity slowly came over him, cutting through the pleasant, misty haze that had overtaken his faculties. It gave him just enough presence of mind to scream an indignant, accusatory, “Ow!” at Beau.

She flashed him a cocky grin, seemingly amused by his tone. “Look man, this is what happens. Get charmed, get hit. Now square up.” 

Essek held up one hand in an attempt to stave her off, gasping for breath. The buzz in his brain was receding; somehow, Beau had punched the spell’s effect right out of him. “No really, I’m fine now, it worked—”

But she was already going in for another punch. Helpless to stop her, Essek braced himself for the hit, thinking that if nothing else, he had to admire her thoroughness. 

[archived-kin]

you braid your favourite fire boy’s hair (and get indirectly confessed to, maybe)

note from kin: some of you may say that diluc is too calm and stoic to be an arsonist but i refuse to believe the man hasn't set a tiny bit of fire to kaeya’s house at some point or another

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, diluc, aether (mentioned), venti (mentioned)

pairing(s): diluc/reader

warning(s): none! (except, like, hair brushing and stuff? i don’t if that counts but i also don’t know what sort of trauma people have so,,, here’s the warning just in case)

genre: fluff

“How do you even manage your hair?”

Diluc shoots you a look over the bar as you lean forward on the counter. “What are you talking about?”

It’s another one of those nights where Mondstadt and the area around it is pretty quiet. Normally you’d be out doing commissions or just general favours for the public with your adventuring buddy Aether and his friend (pet? guardian fairy?) Paimon, but he’s been in Liyue for the last week or so helping Zhongli run some errands, and likely won’t be back for another few days. He had asked you whether you’d wanted to come with him - the two of you make a dynamic duo like no other, after all - but the last time you’d spent time with Zhongli, you’d ended up having to pay about ten thousand Mora in terms of expenses on his behalf. You love the guy, but he really grinds your gears with his inability to comprehend how basic currency works sometimes.

So off Aether had gone to Liyue, though not without promising to bring you back a Starconch or something in return for your offer to patrol his area for him in his absence, and you had stayed behind in Mondstadt, promising to let him know if anything about his missing twin sister comes up while he’s gone.

As much as you’d like to (mostly for poor Aether’s fragile sense of self worth), you can’t say it’s been a particularly difficult week without him in terms of work - you miss your friend, of course, but there haven’t really been any outstanding attacks in the area that you didn’t manage to take care of within the hour. The lack of disturbances also means that Mr Darknight Hero over there hasn’t had much to do either, so he’s spent most of the past few nights behind the bar - which means, of course, that you’ve been coming is much more often than usual to see him.

Angel’s Share is a bar by trade, so of course it’s open all night to any gracious patron looking for something to drink. More than often it’s full, being one of the more renowned taverns in the city, but today is a day of rest, and so Diluc had closed up shop about half an hour ago.

Why are you still allowed in Angel’s Share if it’s closed, you ask? Well, obviously it’s because Diluc likes you so much!

No, that’s a lie - while you’ve always thought of Diluc as a close friend, you’re more inclined to believe that Diluc himself is only letting you stay here past closing time because he owes you for helping him out with a particularly overzealous Abyss Mage that had gotten a little too close to the city gates yesterday.

Still, you can’t help but hope that there’s some other reason behind his lenience...

“Hair’s hard to take care of, and you have a lot of it,” You respond matter-of-factly, dipping a biscuit into your mug of tea and shoving it whole into your mouth. Much like Diluc, you prefer to abstain from alcohol when you can - ironic, considering you’ve spent so much time in a bar recently. “I’m just curious. What do you do with it when you go to sleep?”

He shakes his head with a quiet scoff and returns to polishing an empty tankard. “I don’t do anything with it.”

“What, so you just leave it in a ponytail all the time?”

Diluc looks up to see you shooting him a scandalised look. He sighs, evidently not particularly willing to put up with one of your moods this late at night. “Of course not.”

You relax a little, only to stiffen right back up when he continues, “I take it down to wash it.”

“You—” You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself, setting your elbows on the table and pressing your hands together as if praying to Barbatos to save this poor man’s hair-ends. Finally, after a moment of silence, you ask, voice hushed, as if afraid that the answer will be too much for you to handle, “How the hell is your hair still so pretty?”

Diluc pauses in the middle of putting his freshly-polished tankard away. He takes a long while to formulate a response - whether because he’s nonplussed by the gormlessness of your question or something else (because he’s flustered, maybe? You know better than to hope in vain, but you can’t really help what your idiot of a heart does to your mind).

Finally, though, he mutters in reply, “Pretty?”

Your hand hesitates in the middle of reaching for another biscuit from the plate sitting next to you. Diluc doesn’t sound offended, but you know better than to assume that he isn’t. You don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with calling his hair pretty, but maybe it stings his ego as a man or something?

“Uh, yeah…?” You curl your fingers around your warm mug and pull it towards you, staring determinedly down at its contents to disguise your growing nervousness. “I mean, well, it always looks really healthy and soft and glowy and stuff…”

Well, if he wasn’t offended before, he probably is now. You mentally cuff yourself around the head, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t let yourself get loose-lipped just because you’re so relaxed in the homeliness of the tavern. It doesn’t matter how comforting the warmth of the mug in your hands is, nor does it matter how fuzzy just being in Dilic’s presence makes you feel - you need to watch what you say.

But then you see Diluc move out of the corner of your eye, and you look back up to see him standing much closer than he was before, a smile tugging at his lips. You can practically feel your heart screech out of pure surprised joy as he reaches out and gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“Thank you,” He murmurs - do you dare to hope that you hear affection in his voice? - and pulls away as quickly as he’d come close. “I appreciate it.”

You aggressively force your breathing to even out as he moves back to his work, going about his usual duties of making sure all the bottles on display are tightly shut and squeaky clean. Surely the fact that he willingly initiated contact with you - and such intimate-feeling contact at that - must mean something? Diluc has never been the type to be physically affectionate with friends, not like Kaeya, who you’re pretty sure has kissed about half of his entire friendship circle, or Lisa, who has absolutely zero qualms about giving a stranger a bone-crushing hug if they need one. Even if this only means that he considers you a closer friend than the others, though, you can’t help the delighted flutter in the pit of your stomach.

Diluc’s touch has far more power than you’ll ever admit - brief as the contact was, it’s sent such a rush of adrenaline through your entire body that you somehow muster up enough courage to abruptly ask, “Would you mind if I braided it?”

Diluc pauses again. You watch him in anticipation as he slowly turns around to look back at you. “...why would you want to do that?”

“Uh—” You struggle to come up with a decent reason that won’t make you sound like a lovesick fool, and eventually settle on, “I just think it would look nice?”

Diluc stares at you in silence for so long that you begin to think that you’ve lost him completely with your out-of-nowhere request. Then, however, he gives you a curt nod. “Go ahead.”

You barely catch yourself in time to prevent your shock from showing on your face as Diluc moves out from behind the counter and sits down in the seat beside you. “...uh?”

“Go ahead,” He repeats, reaching up and untying his hair from its low ponytail. It tumbles over the back of the chair in messy waves, reflecting the light of the fire so precisely that it almost looks like it’s glowing in the dim lighting of the tavern. “I assume you know how, since you offered.”

It takes you a moment to do something other than stare in pure dumbfounded surprise, but once you snap out of your mini-trance, you nod hurriedly and get to your feet, reaching in your pocket as you do so. You’ve made a habit of carrying around spare hair ties and a foldable wooden comb ever since you and Aether had started working together - his hair comes undone from its plait a lot in battle, and it’s always all matted and tangled in the morning if he lets it down to sleep - which means you won’t have to fumble about for an hour trying to comb’s Diluc’s abundance of hair out with only your fingers.

Diluc is sitting as prim and proper as ever in his chair as you hesitantly move around to stand behind him and - after a long, uncertain pause - begin to brush his hair. His back is ramrod straight, which doesn’t look comfortable at all, but you suppose that whatever works for him is fine.

“That feels nice,” He murmurs quietly as you carefully tease out a knot. Your hands freeze for a moment, then silently continue with their work. “You’re good at this.”

After a pause, you reply, equally quiet, “I get a lot of practice.”

He hums in reply, and the deep rumble of his voice almost seems to fill the room. “...with Aether, I presume.”

You nod, then realise he can’t see you and hurry to give him a verbal answer. “Yeah.”

There’s a long silence between the two of you. You continue to work your way through Diluc’s abundance of hair, painstakingly spending far too long combing out each tangle and kink out of fear that you’ll hurt him if you get too rough.

You don’t know how much time has passed by the time Diluc finally speaks up again. “You spend a lot of time with him.”

It’s a statement, not a question - but you can’t blame him for phrasing him that way. It’s well-known around the city of Mondstadt that you and Aether have been partners-in-crime ever since the two of you had bonded over nearly being stampeded by a swarm of hilichurls and working together to kill them all. It’s odd that he’s bringing it up now, though… you wonder why.

“...well, I do, yes. We are adventuring partners…”

Diluc inhales and lets out a soft sigh. You don’t miss the way that his shoulders tense up slightly. Another long silence passes, and he finally murmurs, “I might be a little jealous.”

You freeze again. Did you hear him right? Did Diluc really just say what you think he just said? He’s… jealous?

You don’t even have time to try to formulate a response before he starts speaking again. “The two of you are always out exploring together. It’s rare that we get to see each like this.”

“...hey, now…” It’s not often that you’re unable to find words - you’ve always had a sharp tongue. Right now, though, it feels like they’ve all dried up in your mouth. “What are you trying to say…?”

Diluc pauses. Then he lets out a soft chuckle - one that has no right to have the effect on you that it does. “...nothing. I just mean that it’s nice to be able to spend time together like this.”

He doesn’t continue, and you take that as a sign that this particular stretch of the conversation is over, and return to carefully separating his hair into segments. Your hands wobble imperceptibly as you do so, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Diluc sighs and lets his shoulders relax as you start pulling the locks of hair over each other into the beginnings of a long braid, carefully tugging it closer to the base of his head so that it looks a little neater. You’re not sure whether you want to go for something similar to Aethar’s plait or something more intricate, but considering the hour, you’d probably be better off keeping it simple. You wonder briefly what colour ribbon would look nice against the deep red of his hair, but quickly shut the idea down - it’s already a wonder that Diluc is letting you do this, and you don’t want to push your luck.

(You don’t know this, but, though his face is calm and composed, Diluc is so hyper aware of his stuttering heartbeat that he’s sure you can hear it. He almost wishes you would use more force with your hands, if only so that he can feel the movement of your fingers more clearly - there’s something therapeutic in the way they weave through his hair. He could almost fall asleep there on the spot, so soothing is your presence and the warmth of the fire, but he wants to talk longer.)

“Hey,” you begin, suddenly feeling that the quietude is more awkward than comfortable. “If you’re ever free, uh… I’m sure Aether wouldn’t mind if you came out on an expedition with us. There are some rumours about an Oceanid popping up in Starfell Lake…”

Diluc makes an indiscernible noise in response to indicate that he’s thinking about your question. You wait with bated breath, only to feel disappointment drop in your chest like a rock when he shakes his head, shifting the incomplete braid in your hands.

A moment later, though, the pressure disappears as he says quietly, “I’d much rather go with you alone.”

“Oh…” You breathe out loud before realising your mistake. You resist the urge to slap your hand to your mouth to shut yourself up, and instead hurry to rectify yourself by continuing, “That sounds good.”

Diluc chuckles again. “You don’t sound particularly enthused by the idea.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” You shock even yourself with just how indignantly loud your voice gets. You hasten to quiet yourself, continuing much more mutedly, “Um— I mean, I’d love to.”

You can’t see his face, but you can almost hear Diluc’s soft smile in the way he speaks. “Then it’s settled. I’ll take a look at my schedule and let you know when I’m free, alright?”

You can’t help but feel an enormous grin pulling at your own mouth. Well, can anyone really blame you? You’ve just discovered that your unrequited feelings for Diluc might not be as unrequited as you’d initially thought! It’s almost too good to be true - as if you’re dreaming. It’s like the two of you are one of those couples in Venti’s songs, the ones that he likes to play after a good hour of so of drinking, staring meaningfully at you at the end of each… line…

Wait a minute…

A flame-haired noble with a stare as cold as ice, who does his duties by day and hunts evil at night? An adventurer with no roots left at home, who clings to action so as to not feel so alone? The longing stares across a busy room, the late nights thinking of a face so dear, the romance waiting to blossom and bloom, the hopes and wishes that they would stay here?

Son of a hilichurl! That cheeky bard really wrote a song about you and Diluc - and you somehow hadn’t noticed!

“What’s wrong?”

You jolt out of your train of thought as Diluc turns around to look at you. The faint concern on his face is enough to send butterflies spinning through your stomach. Stupid heart. Am I really that weak for this man? “Huh?”

“You haven’t moved in a while,” He says by way of explanation, gesturing to the end of the braid that you’re still holding. “Is there something bothering you?”

You stare at his face - at the deep red of his irises, the flutter of his long lashes, the strands of red hair framing his face, the faint freckles on the slope of his nose. You breathe out a quiet laugh. Perhaps there will never be a time when you can tell him the true extent of how you feel about him, but this will certainly be a start.

“No, nothing at all. So, about tomorrow…?”

[umiarumi]

fucking three houses | lorenz hellman gloucester

the whole reason i wrote this collection was because of an inside joke. "wouldnt slut shaming lorenz be funny?"

The resounding tune of the clock striking noon echoed around the monastery, prompting you to perk up from your studies. Usually, you studied in solitude. As outgoing as your allies made you, you always held onto that ease and pleasure being alone supplied you. With how lust-induced your recent activities had been, a little peace and quiet would do you some well-deserved good.

You shut the book regarding tactics your professor had recommended you. The soft shuffles of former students leaving the library and hushed chatter reverberated around the room and halls. Of course, you were at war but there's always time to get better at what you do. You chuckled at the thought of some grizzled lady wielding a sword studying. Well, that is you after all!

Sliding the book back in its respective shelf, you hummed as you remembered Tomas. From what you gathered, the Tomas that the faculty knew was replaced. Unfortunate, but unsurprising knowing the enemies working behind the scenes.

You shifted your thoughts to your upcoming mission. Some scouting mission from the empire detected commotion in Garreg Mach. You huffed at the thought. Of course, you'd expect Edelgard to retaliate but damn, that was quick.

You shook your head, well, it was tea time! Noon meant the yard would be filled with people gossiping and sipping alike, the hobby so ingrained in them that they retained it through the war.

You walked past Seteth, nodding to him. He nodded back, cracking a soft smile. You'd rarely see that emotion! You giddily laughed as he turned the corner, pleased to see he was loosening up.

Walking down the stairs, you passed a rushing Lysithea who didn't even recognise you. You grinned, shaking your head. Always in a rush, that girl! Or, well, woman. She'd like that better.

Sauntering, you caught a glimpse of a certain purple and ginger-headed duo bickering. "Lee! Lorenz! Whatever is wrong, my dear friends?" You cheered, slinging your arms around the two. Leonie raised a brow at you, grinning, seemingly relieved at your arrival. Lorenz, on the other hand, froze up. "Although you may have connections to House Riegan, (Y/N)..." He grumbled, sighing.

"Oh chill, Lorenz!" You guffawed, shaking your head. He'd become considerably more agreeable, but God, he'll hold onto that 'treating commoners with his version of respect' ideal forever.

Leonie nodded with you. "Yeah, buddy." She pointedly looked at Lorenz, crossing her arms. "Well, apparently (Y/N), Lorenz thinks that he can't take me to tea because I'm 'unpleasant'". Hands now on her hips, she turned back to you.

You smirked. "Lovers quarrel?" You asked, shifting your weight.

"NO, DUMBASS!" "Absolutely not!"

You cackled at the yells, waving your hands in front of your face dismissively. They really did act like it!

"My bad, my bad... now, Leonie is a great dining partner! But... I doubt tea is even your thing." You offered, mockingly putting on a wise tone. She slowly nodded, realising you're right.

"Yeah! A good meal is better than tea. Thanks for seeing my point, (Y/N)." She slapped your back before, turning away. "I'll spend this time on training, can never get enough!" She waved goodbye to the two of you, although you supposed it was more to you.

Lorenz sighed, brushing his, admittedly less foul, hair out of his face. "I fail to see why you defend her." He muttered, looking to you. You raised a brow, tilting your head for that added 'what do you mean?' effect.

"Simply put, she wouldn't make a fair tea partner. She accused me of the reason being that she was a commoner, but it truly was not! I explained to her, but she seemed to have not appreciated my honesty, either." He pondered, lips pursing.

"Well, Lorenz! I think you need a lesson in manners." You bluntly asserted, placing your hands on your sides.

"Why I never-"

"Not that you don't have wonderful manners! However, your honesty can be jarring... you come off rude, man." You explained, patting his shoulder.

"So I am to lie?"

"Gah! No! Look, how about we discuss it over tea?" You suggested, exasperated. As intelligent as the dude is, his social cues with... commoners and the rest of us normal people are is abysmal!

He nodded. "A splendid notion! Shall we take this to my dorm? I feel as though the tea court will be filled by now. I also have some delectable flavours and tea sets!" He smiled, leading you away.

You yelped, catching up to him. What was the deal with guys walking briskly away from you?

~~~~

"Please, take a seat." He offered, pulling out a chair for you. You mumbled thanks, sitting down.

Crossing your legs, you hummed. Was this a curse? Was this going to end up in you fucking the most pretentious man? Well, the omniscient presence watching your every move knows the answers.

As he poured the tea into your embellished cup, you admired the colour. "How pretty! And the teacup compliments it!" You whispered in awe, looking back up to Lorenz. He smiled sweetly at you, almost in the way one would at a kitten or puppy.

"I'm glad you have a knack for spotting artistic factors in the simplest things." He said, sitting down opposite you.

"However, on our way here, I thought about something."

You gulped. How was your impending lecturing being turned on you?!

"Y-yes?" You stuttered, bringing the teacup to your mouth, sipping nervously on the steaming liquid.

He eyed you, before humming.

"I doubt you're the most qualified person to teach me about manners." He said, gauging your reaction. You halted sipping on your tea.

Collecting yourself, you placed your teacup back down. "Oh? Why would that be?" You questioned, fiddling with the tablecloth.

"Well, you seem to have time engaging in certain... promiscuous activities, that isn't exactly too innocent or polite." He murmured, sipping on his tea.

Your eyes bulged, hands antsy as they moved to your face to hide your shock.

"For someone so carefree to participate in such... activities in public, you sure do seem to hold a facade of modesty." He replied, watching you sternly.

"Yeah, imagine how it feels having someone know of this!" You gritted your teeth, clenching your arms.

He raised a brow, smiling crookedly. "Certainly you wouldn't mind. Considering you would do so on holy grounds. You and Claude seemed to have not cared. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole monastery heard you."

You gasped, moving to get out of your chair. You didn't need a lecture from Lorenz.

He stood up with you, challenging your gaze.

"When I told Leonie she wasn't well-kempt enough... I suppose you aren't any better." He smirked, watching you bite your lip anxiously.

"Damnit, what do you want!? Don't tell anyone, I'll do anything!" You pleaded, taking a step forward. Lorenz grinned at this, raising a brow. He walked around the table, coming to face you directly. You looked down, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Since you're so eager to offer. Perhaps I could partake in those services Claude recommended to you?" He whispered, hand coming to tilt your chin upwards. Your face erupted in a dark heat, your heart thumping.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz.

You collected yourself, giving him a sly grin as your hands found themselves around his neck. "Well, if you're interested in a free trial..." You hinted, swaying your hips.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz.

He gulped, smiling crookedly. "You strike a hard bargain, my fair lady. I suppose I'd have to indulge." He murmured, grabbing underneath your knee and pulling your leg up to his waist.

Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Don't fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz.

"Then, please, take whatever you'd like."

Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck Lorenz. Fuck-

Your lips were captured by his own, as you soon felt your weight shift as your body was lifted from the ground. You wrapped your legs around him fully as you were set down on his plush bed

The kiss heated up passionately, feeling Lorenz palm you through your normal uniform. Being a Sunday, no war business was discussed and no armour was worn. He cupped your breasts.

"You're hardly pleasant, ever so brash and callous. But not to fear, I'll mould you into a fair woman. However, I'd say I prefer your unabashed promiscuousness." He hissed, stripping you of your uniform. Soon, your bra and underwear followed.

He shed his own casual uniform, for once in his life, not caring. That was proved as much as he dropped his uniform onto the mahogany floors.

You were pushed down onto the bed as you felt Lorenz slide on top of you, his already hard dick grinding against your slick cunt. You sighed, capturing his lips in a kiss once more.

His hands moved to your breasts, removing his mouth from your own only to kiss up the skin. Poking, squeezing, kissing, licking. He left no stone unturned, or in this case, no skin untouched. His apparent fixation on your breasts soon shifted to your darkened face. He simpered at his work.

"You will be good practice for the future. I suppose a whore such as yourself wouldn't oppose being treated with such behaviour." He proposed, his hands stroking up and down your sides.

"I... I'm not a whore!" You defended weakly. Yet any argument was soon washed away as he began to rub his dick up and down against your vagina.

"Oh? Ah, I see. So making love... no, I should say, carelessly fucking your former classmates one after another was just a hallucination?" He asked, the tip of his dick sliding into your walls for a split second before retreating.

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" You cried out, frustrated at the lack of stimulation.

"Ah, straight to denial, I see! You have skipped explaining and gone straight to denying your needy, sluttish behaviour." He groaned as he felt you pull him closer.

You cried out in frustration before looking away.

" F-fine! You're right that I'm a whore! I'm a whore who loves her classmate's dicks! Now please fuck me!" You moaned, exasperated.

"That's wonderful to hear."

And no sooner than he spoke did he thrust his dick right into your pussy, a silent moan escaping your open lips. He leant over you, feeling your tits press against him. Your legs rose and wrapped around his pistoning hips.

You struggled to get a full breath at the pace he was thrusting at, it sent your head spinning. You couldn't think, you could only feel as you were fucked silly by the one guy you could never like.

Yet, that distaste furthered your arousal.

"You are far from suitable for me. You.." He heaved as you clenched around him. "Naughty. You're brash, loud, unladylike... but you make a wonderful cocksleeve." He groaned into your ear, letting out soft moans.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten at his words.

"Then... you're just like me! Sinking down... to my level just for some pussy?" You teased, slurring.

He smirked annoyedly. "Tch, I wouldn't say that in your position." He grunted out, holding you tighter as he pistoned harder.

"O-oh! I... you!" You moaned, speech cutting off as you couldn't talk. It was so fast, so hard, so good!

The two of you continued to moan and grunt, accompanied only by the sound of skin slapping. The erotic groans of the man you held such distaste for was sending you over the edge. You hated it so much that you loved it.

To the means of an end, you felt the coil snap as he groaned once more in your ear, the spasming of your walls soon causing him to cum. You felt your ravaged pussy shudder as ropes of hot cum seared your insides. As he slid out, it trailed out.

Lorenz looked down on you, smiling coyly at the sight. "Speechless and fucked silly, that's a perfect look for you."

[lrissa]

I’m right here

summary: levi and you have grown close in the underground, but when you’re forced to join the Survey Corps and attend your first expedition it all goes south

warnings: vomiting, angst, fluff, all of levi’s ova

this one is long, apologies.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Levi, Isabel, Farlan and you flew through the air with the Military Police hot on your tail. Recently you were given information on a secret mission, to kill Erwin Smith.

Happiness tingled in every bone of your body, it was close to the time for you to go to the surface with Levi, to experience the sun together.

“The military police again? Haven’t learnt their lesson have they?” Isabel remarked with a cocky tone, peering back at our pursuers.

“Levi-bro! What I just said was cool, right?” She grinned widely and you smiled at her, already knowing Levi’s answer.

“Are you an idiot?” The raven head answered, Isabels face turned into a frown and she rolled her eyes.

Levi took off with his ODM and spun around before latching his grapples onto a wall, perched there for a moment while the attackers followed him as he jumped off, spinning backwards and joining us again.

“Show off.” You retorted as Levi stayed silent.

“Those movements, they’re not Military Police!” Farlan commented as he stared back at the enemies

“No mistake, its them,” Levi broke through, keeping his eyesight strained forwards “That Wings of Freedom crest.. It’s the Survey Corps.”

You stared wide eyed then looked past your shoulder at them.

“Heh, as people who battle titans they’re as different as expected.” Farlan lightly joked

“You guys... You know, right?” Levi inquired.

“It’s the job, right” You answered, hair whipping behind you as you flew forwards.

Instantly you all released your ODM’s and shot them off in separate directions, splitting up.

Gazing back you examined as one followed you, narrowing your eyes you fixated your eyes straight.

‘Show me how good you really are’ You thought.

Nearing a tunnel you shot your ODM inside, spinning into a ball to gain quicker on it, flattening out once inside.

Exiting the tunnel you noticed someone above you, eyes widening you shot forwards, releasing your gas excessively. Letting one grapple go you swung around on the one, watching as your pursuer anticipatied this they unsheathed their blades and went to strike you, dodging barely you fell back into a crate full of food.

Tumbling backwards you grunted, glaring as he ran after your fleeting figure. Finally gaining ground you straighten up until being thrown onto the floor again by a man.

You yelled and flipped eachother over, throwing punches at the mans face while another hooded figure came from the side. Throwing you off the man as you slid across the floor

Jumping up you gained your ground and pulled out a small dagger whilst they wielded their long blades.

One threw their blade at your knife, unsuspecting this it succeeded and they ran at you. Eyes widening as they kicked down one of your legs, landing painfully onto the hard stone.

Placing your hands behind your back they cuffed you and hoisted you up, struggling against their grip.

“You think you’re so strong.. Well fuck off” You sneered as they smacked the back of your head, furrowing your brows at the surprise.

Levi soon came into view with a blonde man holding a blade to him, anger spiked through every nerve in your body. With your futile attempts to get out the grasp of the handcuffs your wrists began to become red with irritation.

Levi’s eyes locked with yours and his eyes narrowed, the blonde man muttering things to Levi before he opened his palm to release his dagger.

“Levi!” You yelled and tried to break free of your captor.

Levi took steps back as a new Survey Corps came up behind him and placed the handcuffs on him.

Bringing us over they lined us up and made us go on our knees, staring at the ground your hair hung over your eyes.

Levi was to the left of you, turning your head you peered at him, there was a distant look in his eyes as he hyper fixated on the ground beneath him. You frowned and returned your gaze back to the floor.

“I’ll ask a few questions.” The blonde one asserted infront of you all “Where did you get this?”

There was silence as we all kept our mouth shut, why would we fucking tell you, idiot.

“You guys are skilled with 3D Maneuver Gear. Who taught you all that?” The man questioned again.

He walked towards Levi, stopping infront of him. “You’re their leader, right?” he persists “Were you in the Military?”

Suddenly a man grabs the back of Levi’s head, his fists knotting in his hair as he slammed his head into a puddle of mud.

Your head shot up immediately “Let him go!” You yelled and struggled against your cuffs, your gaze deathly as you glared at the man holding Levi.

“I’ll ask one more time. Where did you learn to use 3D Maneuver Gear?”

Your face was in a large scowl as your eyes were trained on the man restraining Levi, if looks could kill he’d be doubled over.

“We learned it by ourselves!” Farlan shouted

“Self taught you say? No.”

“It’s just so we can rise even a bit in this dirty garbage place!” Farlan persisted, shouting “People who’re used to sunlight wouldn’t understand!”

“That’s enough! Let bro go.” Isabel shouted at the blonde giant, “Dont be cocky just because you’re soilders!”

“Take your filthy hands off him.” You seethed at the one gripping Levi’s hair, paying no mind to you.

Eventually he lifted Levi’s head from the dirty mud whilst the man squatted infront of him.

“My name is Erwin Smith. Yours is?”

“Levi.”

“Levi, why don’t we make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“I will let your crimes go unpunished. In return lend me your strength, join the Survey Corps.”

Your eyes widened and you gasped lightly “Levi, no...” You called, the Survey Corps were extremely dangerous and you didn’t want Levi to risk his life by himself.

“And if I refuse?”

“The Military Police will have you, considering all your crimes, you and your friends won’t be treated very nicely.” The man stood and returned to his original placement, “Choose whichever you prefer.”

There was a long pause as Levi considered this, thoughts of you flashed through his mind vaguely. He didn’t want you beaten for his choice, but neither did he want Farlan and Isabel to either.

“Fine.”

You looked down at the floor, a frown evident on your face as you shook your head.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps.”

You were going with him no matter what.

──────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────────

“Introduce yourselves!” Bellowed a voice as you stood, leaning your weight against one hip as you crossed your arms over your chest.

You all ended up joining the Survey Corps and stood wearing the outfit, atleast it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“The names Levi.”

“Levi.. The first thing you’ll need is some goddamn discipline,” argued the commander “Next.”

“I’m Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meetcha!”

“My name is... Farlan Church.”

With your arms crossed you studied the crowd as they waited for you,

“My name is Y/N.”

“Flagon, these four will be assigned to your squad.” Ordered the Commander.

The introductions ended and Flagon brought them to the barracks, they began to converse amongst eachother as you walked behind Levi.

His hand lifted and rubbed behind the wood, dust falling and sticking to his fingertips. Farlan, Isabel, and your eyes all widened in fear as you quickly noticed what it was.

“I know you all lived in the underground, but try to keep this place paper clean.” Stated the man.

“..Huh?” Levi remarked as he walked towards Flagon, his gaze icy with a glare.

“Why are you looking at me like that? How dare you.”

Farlan rushed forwards and placed a hand between the two, “Sorry! We will keep this place clean.”

Flagon nodded and headed for the door “Training begins to tomorrow,” and left.

You looked back at Levi, walking towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder, gingerly squeezing it.

“Don’t pull anymore tricks like that Levi.” Commented Farlan as he watched him clean the filth off his fingers.

Levi frowned angrily and looked past you to Farlan “Did you not hear what that piece of shit had spouting out of his piece of shit mouth?”

You grinned a bit at that and stepped away from Levi, sitting down on the bed as you let the two argue. Resting your head in your hands whilst you shut your eyes.

You felt the bed dip and removed your hands, looking to see Levi. A disgusted look present on his face as he couldn’t believe he was sitting in such filth.

“Levi, are you worried?” You asked softly. You and Levi’s sides were pressed together as he stared straight on.

“Yes, but we have training tomorrow. Then we can finally see how real this is.” He remarked as you nodded, taking his hand in both of yours. He allowed you to, his gaze staring at your hands.

“I wish you hadn’t come.” Levi added, your eyes snapped to his as you held eye contact.

“What, and let you come here by yourself and get potentially killed. Fuck no.” You snapped at him whilst your grip on his hand tightening.

Levi’s gaze softened at you, he knew these titans were dangerous and he was terrified. Terrified for your safety, but he’d never show it.

Suddenly you released your grip on his hand and instead wrapped them around his neck, pulling him close to you as you put your head in the crook of his neck. He smelt of soap and artificial flowers from a cleaning product.

Levi had stiffened under your touch, his heart beat quickly. His mouth only a fraction open as he registered the human contact. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest and clenched his heart, warmth spreading throughout his body. It lasted mere seconds until his face went back to emotionless. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist and he breathed in your scent momentarily. You smelt of light flowers and vanilla. He loved it almost instantly.

Despite his wishes, his eyes shut and his grip on you tightened. Taking in this moment for he was fearful it’d be the first and last. Pulling back slowly, his hands traced along your waist to your cheeks as he cupped them gently.

Your hand gingerly hovered over his as you two stared at eachother, the tension so strong it gripped your heart and squeezed. His eyes flickered to your lips, his thumb extended from your soft skin to your plump lips, rubbing it tenderly.

Running your hand along his arm you traced it to his hair, your nails going through his silky raven locks until your hand reached the back of his neck where his hair began.

Inching him closer, “Levi..” you whispered delicately. Your noses nearly touching as your eyes fluttered shut, Levi took this as acceptance as his lips neared yours.

BANG

“Levi, Y/N,” Farlan.

──────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────────

It was the morning after and you stood, unsheathing the blades from your gear, turning and flipping them as you inspected the sharp objects.

“Eh, what do you think your doing?”

Holding the blades you turned to gaze at one of the captains, flipping the blades you gripped them correctly.

“Don’t worry, if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve.” You remarked with a small grin as the captain’s mouth gaped open until his face contoured into one of anger.

“Do not talk to your superior like that—“ Bellowed the captain before you took off into the trees, a laugh following you as it left your lips.

Soaring through the tall trees you kept your eyes honed on any fast approaching objects, gripping your blades tighter as you steadied your breathing.

A large cardboard cutout rose from the trees infront of you, it was bigger than an average human but small when maneuvering above it.

You gasped lightly and faltered momentarily. Leaving your trance you scowled and sent off an ODM on the tree above.

Grappled to the tree you were perched on the tree bark, readying your blades you sent off the ODM on its nape and sliced it through successfully. Grappling away instantly to look for more.

Adrenaline flowed through you, your eyes crazed more as you came across another. Using the nearby trees to swing above and behind the cardboard titan, spinning around you glided above the nape. Grappling the nape and slicing through it perfectly.

The one controlling the cardboard titan stared up at you in shock, how was she so fast?

Continuing this until you made it back to the rest, landing smoothly your eyes scanned the crowd. Spotting Levi you rushed over, grabbing his arm whilst his cold glare turned to look at his grabber.

Levi’s gaze softened realizing it was you and planted a hand on your head, his fingers tangling in your hair before they trailed down your locks and let go.

──────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────────

“I’ll be going alone.”

Levi’s words echoed in your mind as you stared at him, eyes wide. Tch, who does Levi think he is. A scowl formed on your face and your hands clenched into a fist.

“What?” Isabel and Farlan spoke in unison with shocked expressions.

“You three must make up and excuse to stay behind.”

“But bro, why!?” Isabel exclaimed loudly.

“We haven’t seen a real titan yet and it will be our first time outside the walls. It may take all we have to make it back alive. But if i’m by myself, i’ll manage somehow.”

“But..” You got up off the crate and stood, crossing your arms, “So you’re saying is that we can’t handle it?” You questioned briskly.

“That’s right, or atleast, how I feel.” Levi spoke coldly.

Isabel frowned deeply and walked towards Levi, her hands in fist as she shook slightly, “How can you say that? You won’t know till we tried!” She defended “What���s wrong? This isn’t like you,” She’d add.

Levi frowned and clenched his fist, glaring at you three “If you won’t stay behind, then we’re done talking!” he finalized and walked past you, his painful words attacking your heart as you hung your head.

They yelled for him to stop but you stayed silent, Isabel and Farlan began to argue. Looking up you gazed to where he’d gone, the roof.

Walking towards it, it brought the attention of Isabel and Farlan “Y/N” they began as you gestured your hand to follow.

Reaching the roof you noticed Levi sitting, the door opening had caught his attention, he stared at your nearing figure.

“Levi.” You spoke and walked forwards.

“Bro,” “Levi,” spoke Isabel and Farlan simultaneously.

“I can’t let you go alone.” Farlan demanded, standing confidently.

“You said we’d all go at once, have you forgotten?” Isabel added coldly.

You stopped almost infront of him, crossing your arms “We still have to see the beyond the wall.” Levi’s eyes widened and he lost air for a moment, turning back to the view of the roof.

“It’s the same. When you can’t see the moon or stars, the sky up here is just the same as down below.” Levi said dully, staring straight on.

You three looked up into the dark sky, clouds were clogging the beautiful sky from the stars and the planets beyond.

“The color sure, but..” Farlan began, “But it’s different” Isabel concluded as Levi turned his head to Isabel, “We know there’s no ceiling! It’s completely different.”

“Look,” you pointed into the sky, the gloomy clouds moved to reveal a bright moon. “The moon is so bright!” Isabel exclaimed loudly in an awe tone.

Farlan and Isabel took seats on the edge with Levi, staring up. You walked forwards and took a seat next to Levi, your knees touching as you yourself gazed up at the moon and stars.

“We’ll never go back down there.”

“She’s right bro. The four of us always pulled through, right? It’ll be the same with the titans. Let’s do this together.” Isabel grinned widely as she turned to look at her friends.

“Levi, believe in us.” Farlan spoke and looked to his friend, Levi’s eyes dilated when he heard this. His emotions were powerful but so were his friends determination.

Levi looked to the starry sky and pondered this, memories of his friends passed through his mind. Looking back down a smile had taken his lips “Alright. I’ll believe in you.”

“Yay!” Isabel yelled as she put her arms in the air whooping with joy, “Bro sure is a stubborn one isn’t he?”

Farlan began to chuckle whilst you placed your hand on Levi’s, interlacing eachothers fingers as you looked up to the sky. Levi stared at you with determination and most importantly love, the smile he held never ceased to falter from his face.

──────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────────

“We will now begin the 23rd Expedition Beyond the Walls!” Bellowed the Commander of the Survey Corps, “Forward, Everyone!”

He whipped the reigns on his horse and took off, yelling loudly. Everyone followed his command and started off behind him. To the right of you was Levi, Farlan, then Isabel.

As you galloped under the wall it opened to reveal the great plains with some strips of trees. Tilting your head up you found the sun belting down on you, it was gorgeous, better than you could’ve imagined. The sunlight stretched as far as you could see, it’s bright rays lighting the beauty of the land.

Along with you, Farlan and Isabel seemed awestruck while they stared at the bright blue sky, “Wow!” Isabel spoke in awe.

“Yeah. Not bad at all.” Levi said from beside you, staring up he saw the sun. He had fulfilled his promise to Y/N, to go beyond the wall together. A faint smile on his usual bored lips.

“Levi, thank you.” You spoke from beside him, turning to look at the girl who grinned broadly, “Thank you for showing me.”

Levi stared at you, impossible to mutter the words he so badly wanted to say ‘I love you’.

He could only muster a nod at you and turn his head straight on, his heart beating wildly in his chest but his face a stoic one.

A girl scolded the four of you for losing focus, exclaiming we’d die before we know it.

“Titan spotted!”

Your gaze cut to look ahead of you, a 15 meter was running straight at your squad. Air hitched in your throat as you stared at it ‘So this is what a titan looks like’ you thought.

“Two 10-meter class titans are heading for us from behind!”

Snapping your head back you saw the other two titans, eyebrows furrowing.

“Prepare to attack! Equip your 3D Maneuver Gear!”

One man went to attack the titan, shooting his gear at it head on. Before the titans mouth gaped open and crunched down on the man.

Flagon quickly shot his ODM at a nearby tree, flying up off his horse and escalating on the titan, flying behind it and turning back to advance on it he striked at the nape, killing it as it tumbled to the ground.

You were shocked but felt the heavy footsteps of the titans behind you gaining, turning you looked to see the two titans.

“You three! Stay in your course!” Flagon shouted from ahead.

Suddenly a green cape flew by, fluttering in the wind as it headed straight for the two titans behind us.

“Levi!” You yelled and spun your horse around, whipping the reigns roughly as you leaned forwards on the horse, gaining speed by the second.

“Y/N! C’mon Isabel we can do this” Farlan called as they both turned their horses around, chasing after you and Levi.

You watched as Levi jumped off his horse and grappling to a tree behind them before grappling the titan and swinging around it until finally slicing its nape clean off. The surface rumbled as the titan fell to the ground, grass and soil flying into the air.

Taking a deep breath you stood on your horse, grappling to a tree. Unsheathing your blades you released the ODM on its leg, striking behind his knees. From above you saw Isabel get grabbed by the titan, fear striking your heart as you shot your ODM to save her.

Luckily, she cut off the fingers holding her and whooped loudly before swinging away. Farlan came from behind and swung at the nape, ending the titan. You were just infront the titan as you saw it begin to fall forwards, eyes widening as you grappled away hastily.

You landed on the ground and felt a gust of wind and dirt hit you heavily, protecting your eyes with your arm.

Dropping your arm you stood infront of the head of the titan, hot steam exiting into the air.

Levi came from behind you on his horse as he held the reigns of your stead, staring at your figure as you stood, nonmoving.

Despite your best efforts your hands shook from post shock, the blades shuddering in your grip as you still held them.

Levi got off his horse and came up from behind you, his arms snaking around your waist while he pulled your back to his chest.

“Levi..” You whispered softly as you felt your hands steady, sheathing your blades and placing your hands on his.

“Thank you..” Taking his hands off your stomach you held one and turned around, he only nodded at you and squeezed your hand before dropping it.

Isabel and Farlan came from ahead whilst you and Levi mounted your horses silently, “Levi! We took down a titan all by ourselves!” “We did it bro! We did it!” Isabel and Farlan said excitedly, huge grins on their faces.

“Yeah... You guys did well.” Levi agreed while you pet the mane of your horse gingerly.

“Indeed,” The sudden voice made you turn to see Erwin Smith, eyes widening a fraction “that was impressive, considering it was your first time. But you used too much gas. You need to be especially conservative out here.”

Farlan scowled and readied to argue before Levi put his hand out to stop him, speaking cooly, “You’re expecting me to take priority of my equipment over the lives of my friends?”

“You’re performing a lot of unnecessary movements. Are you beginning to have doubts?” Erwin challenged as Levi grimaced, “If you are, that’ll be the death of you very soon.”

You stared at Erwins retreating figure while Isabel and Farlan bickered amongst themselves.

Following after him soon after, the clouds beginning to turn a dark gray from above.

Small bullets of water began to rain down on the land, soaking everything it touched and fast.

Pulling your hood up you noticed fog cloud the area around you, your eyes darting to the areas of open land, fearful for a titan to appear.

“I didn’t know rain could be this heavy!” Isabel called

“We can’t even see any titans!” You exclaimed

“This is our chance.” Levi calmly spoke from ahead of you, “We’ll use the rain as cover and get close to Erwin.”

Small gasps left their mouths, they have totally forgotten their mission.

“Levi!” “Are we gonna do it bro?”

“Yeah. But it’d be suspicious if all three of us were to break away at once. I’ll go alone.”

You tsked and turned your head away from him, shaking it. He is so persistent to be independent all the damn time.

“True, it’s best not to carelessly move around.” Farlan stated.

“Alright fine, we’re counting on you bro! Go and secure our citizenship.” Isabel grinned widely, her teeth shining.

A terrible feeling was inside your chest, it was unexpected and hurt terribly. Something was bound to go wrong and you could feel it pierce your soul.

“If anyone asks, tell them I went to survey the terrain.” Levi gazed at you when he ended, noting the discomfort in your face.

“Y/N” The cool tone caught your attention as you looked to Levi, his eyes narrowing as he looked to you.

“Be safe.” Time slowed as he said this, this answered all your fears. Levi himself was terrified and he emitted it from his eyes, his eyes, they were so scared and vulnerable.

Time came back as he whipped the reigns of his horse and rode forwards, no..

“Levi!” You screamed as he turned his head to you.

“I love you!” You yelled as confidently as you could, his eyes and mouth visibly opening wide, his heart clenched with an igniting warmth. He snapped his head back forwards, he’d say those words when he returned, he had faith in your survival.

Levi’s figure disappeared into the fog as Isabel and Farlan gaped at you, a blush rushing to your cheeks when he never reciprocated it.

“Y/N..” You looked to them, they smiled at you “I’m sure bro loves you! How could he not?” Isabel exclaimed happily as you gave her a faint smile.

Minutes later from riding your hands shook lightly, gazing at your friends you sighed.

Then, Isabel was in the air, why was she in the air? But your eyes hadn’t registered the huge fleshy fingers gripping your close friend. Your eyes widened in fear as your mouth opened to scream for her, Farlan was beginning to unsheath his blades as he rose from his horse.

The titan brought your red headed friend to its mouth, why her? She was always so kind and optimistic. Her happiness always giving her hope in the darkness of this shitty world.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you watched it, watched the titan eat her small, fragile body. Blood, her blood, splattering yours and Farlans face.

“Isabel!” Your screams finally broke the trance you were in, unsheathing your blades and jumping off your horse. Tears streamed down your soft cheeks as you saw Isabels head fall to the floor and roll.

You screamed as you went behind the titan, slicing down its nape, slicing its arms, knees, hands, anything that was connected to the titan was gone or bloody.

Farlan fell to his knees with tears flowing down his face, looking down to Isabels mutilated head. Sobs wracked his bodily heavily as he moved the red hair from her bloody face.

A new titan came from where the other titan had come from, running at you. “Farlan!” You shouted madly as you crouched down quickly, shaking his shoulders violently as he sobbed.

“Farlan! We have to survive, for Levi!!” You screamed at him and kept shaking him, removing the hands from his eyes he stared at your confident look, slowly, he’d nod and shakily stand.

You shot your ODM at a tree and stared to the incoming titan, a hard scowl overcoming your features as you jumped up, grappling its arm.

The titan looked to you and his hand stuck out, you gasped and attempted to move out its way. But it’s hand had caught one of your legs, your eyes dilated as you watched your leg get crushed by the hands of a titan.

A scream left and echoed around you, your terrified and fearful screams.

Farlan came from behind the titan and sliced at its nape, stopping any further damage.

Grappling away quickly, fell to the ground as soon as you landed, your face was coated in filth. Mud and blood covered your body.

Sitting up, you groaned in pain as you looked ahead. Farlan was running to you, shouting for you to stay awake.

But, as there always is, was another titan, it was an abnormal as it ran over on its four limbs. Your eyesight was blurry, looking at Farlan infront of you. His worried gray orbs roaming over yours as you saw his mouth shout words at you.

“Titan..” you mustered out as Farlan spun around to see the abnormal, he was scared, upset, but mostly angry. Angry for the death of Isabel and Y/N’s injury, but more furious at his short life. Farlan was smart he knew he wouldn’t survive this one and it pained him but he’d fight for atleast Y/N to survive this.

He grappled off towards the titan, you watched with zero control. Pain sizzled up your leg and ignited your body in a fury of agony.

“Farlan!” You attempted to shout, reaching your hand out towards his retreating figure. He looked back at you and gave a smile, a smile at a time like this. You wailed loudly and slammed your fist into the dirt sobbing.

From the distance you heard the loud sobs and screams of Farlans last moments as the abnormal bit down on his abdomen, ending his suffering. There was silence but for the titan feasting on Farlan.

Your head hung downwards as wind blew through your hair, shutting your eyes as tears streamed down your face.

Clutching the grass around you, you went against your pain and pushed yourself up off the ground, resting your weight in your good leg.

Levi was in the distance, crouched infront of Isabels head. He hadn’t looked up as he stared at his red headed friend. ‘Y/N, Farlan. Where are they?” he thought painfully as he forced himself to look up.

He caught your standing figure staring at the abnormal, Farlans body dangling from its teethy grin. Levi’s eyes dilated and he immediately stood, unsheathing his blades he ran towards you and the titan.

The abnormal began to reach its hand out to you, it’s fingers unclenching and expanding to grab you.

Blood splattered your face, along with the ground thumping. The raven head stood infront of you with mutilated fingers behind him, his glossy eyes looked back at you and he shoved you.

Levi shoved you to the ground as you landed flat on your ass, you stared at him with an awestruck expression.

“Do not stand! I’ll kill it!” Levi yelled at you, your eyes darting to his hands. They shook violently before he ran towards the abnormal and grappled it.

You sat there like he had insisted you do, hair blew over your eyes as you surveyed the battlefield. Blood streaks littered the area and Isabel, oh Isabel. Farlans body was spit from the titans mouth as he thudded against the dirt, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and an intestine hung out his stomach.

Vomit come up your throat as you leaned over and hurled your morning breakfast, your body heaving as you fell onto your back, staring up at the gray sky. ‘Maybe it was like the undergound’ you pondered.

Far away were Levi’s shouts and screams as he sliced the titans whole body, so much so that the titans head flew off and rolled onto the ground, sputtering blood everywhere.

Blood poured out of every slice Levi had inflicted on the titan, he held no remorse for the monster as he sliced its hands clean off. Until finally, slicing its nape.

Levi landed and kneeled down, his black hair covering his eyes as he shook. He felt knees fall to the ground ahead of him and a hand touch his bloodied cheek.

His head snapped up and he was met with Y/N’s eyes, she rubbed his cheek tenderly. Staring at his dull gray eyes with love and vulnerability. Levi’s eyes glossed over as he was flushed with a wave of gratefulness, his true love lived through this hell.

“Levi... I’m here, I’m right here.”

Levi’s hands cupped your face and pulled you in quickly, your lips fusing together as your eyes fluttered shut. Tears leaked down your eyes as you moved your hands to the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly.

Slowly he pulled back, your lips softly breaking apart as he rubbed away your tears with his thumbs.

“I love you too.”

don’t forget to follow :)

[xirenex]

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The Ex

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Group: Ateez

Member: Jung Wooyoung

Genre: Suggestive, kind of angst

jung wooyoung x fem! reader - bratty reader, marking

Your ex interrupts you on your birthday night to clear things out.

Word count: 1.427

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationship, swearing

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You felt the seat next to you fill with a familiar presence and furrowed your brows while taking a sip from your cocktail. Sitting by yourself on the bar stool, you were enjoying the pleasant air after the party. It was expected for you to cross paths with your ex since your best friend, the birthday girl, had his best friend as her boyfriend but you had been hoping that he would act ignorant to your presence. However being him, it had never been an option in the first place. You were foolish to think so.

“Jung Wooyoung.”

“Y/S/N Y/N”

You both acknowledged the other’s presence but refused to turn your head and see the other’s face. The party was taking place in a cafe that was used as a lounge bar during the night and it was rented out for the night by the birthday girl who was currently in her boyfriend’s embrace. Since the following day was your birthday, you decided as a group to stay in the hotel who consisted this floor as a lounge. As the hour approached to midnight, the party started dying down, none of you were young enough to go crazy for the night and get wasted but instead, most of the people preferred engaging in other physical activities. Your eyes went to where the couple was standing without even bothering to see your ex’s handsome face, Yeosang cuddling your best friend from behind.

“I wonder if we used to look like that...”

Wooyoung murmured, vocalizing your thoughts while he took a casual sip from his drink with his eyes focused forward.

“Because it looks gross.”

The last part, surely you didn’t agree with. Contrary to Wooyoung, Yeosang was the boyfriend that all girls would wish for. For the first time since he sat next to you, you turned to face him, your anger and mocking expression, as usual, obvious on your face.

“It was gross but it was because you were the one doing it. They look cute and you are a brute for denying that.”

A smirk appeared on his lips while he leaned forward as if he was challenging you.

“Oh... so I guess you were into the part where we used to do what Mingi and your bestie is doing downstairs, hidden in a room, right?”

You sighed. He was impossible, arrogant and was getting on your nerves. An unconscious scoff left you as you got your purse and stood up from the bar stool. As you were speaking, you pulled down your skirt as it had went upwards while you were seated.

“As if. You were the worst kisser I’ve ever had a relationship with.”

A big fat lie.

He was perfect in only sexual area and oh boy, wasn’t he aware of it. That was exactly why, you literally disappeared from his side like a magic trick before he could make an opposing remark. Being single was simply perfect during the days when you have just broken up. You loved being able to do what you wanted to without the necessity of asking, waiting or informing someone else. Jung Wooyoung was one of the most jealous and petty partners you’ve ever been with if not the hardest. He definitely was not good for your self esteem since he never resisted other girls coming onto him and never made you feel precious emotionally. He seemed like a good boyfriend from the outside but it was all an illusion created in your head by your attraction towards the men that your friends warned you about.

After all, it started as a fling.

You found yourself being tied to him each day he ran after you in campus. It was just like the Stockholm Syndrome. The line between consent and obligation blurred as you spent time together.

Sex was fine but on an emotional level, you were exhausted. However, the thing that made you snap wasn’t his lack of attention towards you but the fact that another woman answered his call when he was supposed to be abroad on a family trip.

On days like these where your best friends were all lovey-dovey with their significant others and your low alcohol tolerance pushed you to go for the first man you saw, as if your hormones were never stable enough, you wanted someone to stand by your side and accompany you.

Like your passionately clingy ex Jung Wooyoung never did.

To be honest, he tried his best, although his best was way below the average.

By the time you returned to the real world and got rid of the thoughts of the past on your mind created by the emotions, you realized you’ve arrived on your floor in hotel. The elevator came to a stop with a common sound of “ding” and you walked towards your room. In the elevator, just before you got out, you managed to send a text to the birthday girl to inform that you’ll be returning to your room tonight for some rest. Then, you stepped in to your room, hoping for a bath... or so you thought. Strong arms pushed you in before closing the door to trap you between his arms and looked at you straight in the eye.

“The problem is, honey, I was your only true relationship. Knowing you, you wouldn’t stand anyone who didn’t know how to please you.”

He said, giving you the reply you didn’t allow him to upstairs. You had no idea how he managed to follow you to your room without you realizing but you could feel yourself turning red from anger from the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Jung Wooyoung, get out.”

He made no attempt to draw away but instead, he lowered himself down. He was playing you just like a cat playing with its prey.

“You are not being fair to yourself, kitten.”

A slap landed on his face which left a mark. You knew that your hand would hurt after the effect of the adrenaline took off but it was only a small concern when you considered the predator before you. Just when you escaped from the cage formed by his arms and was turning around to get into the restroom so that he could see himself out, he pushed you back, this time making sure to pin your arms to to wall on top of you with a single hand easily.

“I hate you.”

You hissed, suiting to your pet name. Instead of bothering to reply, he grabbed your bottom lip with his and sucked on it hard enough to leave a mark. It was aggressive but hot, although you would never say it to his face. Therefore, you chose to bite his. If you could not make him leave, you would annoy him to death. That was one of the things you were good at. After all, your teacher was him.

“God, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He rubbed the point between his brows and breathed in with his eyes closed. In reality, he was actually quite sad thinking about the way you strongly rejected him. Everything in your relationship consisted misunderstandings but both of you were too lazy and he was kind of stupid for not pulling you down to sit in order to have a genuine conversation where you two confronted each other because you had no idea what he was going through behind the stage. That, frankly, boiled your blood even more: being left in the dark where you watched as your relationship grew colder was more suffocating than you initially thought.

“Let me go.”

You ordered.

“And leave my room while I’m still asking you nicely.”

He was strong but you were not weak either, you could throw him out since, somehow, you were sure he wouldn’t hurt you. Opening his eyes to look you in the eye once more, you realized that his irises turned darker.

“Oh no, kitten. No one’s leaving this place until you spill every single rubbish in your heart, mind or wherever it is.”

It was not something you were used to but he was fed up. Something was glinting dangerously in his eyes.

“Although I would never call most of the things that would come out of your body rubbish... Anyways, like this, we can have a celebration of our own for your birthday, too, right?”

You gulped. There was a long night waiting for you.

On contrary, the throbbing part of your lower body was looking forward to this confrontation.

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Hi again :) I’m back with a Wooyoung one shot. I hope you are doing well. As for me, the college entrance exam is just around the corner so it’s kind of stressing these days... ANYWAYS I would like to say that I get requests even if I may not be able to write it immediately so... yeah :) I hope you have a nice day/night wherever you are.

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[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe. 

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point." 

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn. 

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server. 

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 2 of 3)

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When you're done freshening up, dinner's already underway. The scent of vegetables and broth hits your nose, and the cold temperature left behind by the storm brings forth an additional hint as to what the monster's cooking up for dinner. You try to stay soundless as you sneak off to the kitchen and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder when you make it there.

"I can tell you're here, pal," Sans says, chuckling. 

He turns to you with a spoon held out in his hand. There's a sample of soup on it, waiting to be tested. The scent reminds you of having missed lunch break due to the stormy weather, with the hours it lasted bringing forth your boss's decision to call the rest of your shift off. You were supposed to be at your last meeting by now, but the rain and wind had proven to be superior, canceling all plans. Less work meant less pay, though you try to refrain yourself from worrying too much about that right now. "Taste it." He offers it out to you, still waiting. You, on the other hand, take a while to do anything, overthinking the situation as you then debate on whether to grab the spoon or taste it right off his hand. The first option had the risk of you brushing hands with the monster and spilling the soup in the process, yet tasting it right off his hand was almost unthinkable to do. 

Another thought pops into your mind, and that's whether it was fine to trust the skeleton by tasting the food and giving him the benefit of the doubt about it not being tampered with. Though you knew him for a few months now, it's still impossible not to acknowledge a possibility like that one. If a man you'd known for so many years had ended up leaving you, only to make a scene like yesterday's when trying to get back with you, who's to say a stranger with customs far different from yours wouldn't do something similar -- or worse?

You remind yourself of your main and original task: confronting him and the rest of the monsters over the choices they made back at the Underground, regardless of how charming and kind they were being with you currently. Sans was no less of an exception. This wasn't only for Frisk's safety and their overall state of well-being, but for your reputation as their parent -- and for your peace of mind, too.

You figure you've taken too long based on how the skeleton backs the spoon away.

His grin widens, and he then sips the contents off the spoon, leaving it empty. "I promise it ain't poisoned." He gives his back to you as he goes to wash the spoon, offering it to you after it's been cleaned. "You can taste it now." Sans moves aside, creating space for you to step forward and scoop a bit of the soup still bubbling in the pot.

Just as you're about to eat it though, he says, "I'm not the best cook around, so go ahead and lemme know if it tastes funny." 

A smile forms on your face when you hear that, captivated by the idea of him having no clue how to begin cooking, and even more considering he was at your home instead of his. If it was often difficult for beginners to cook in the familiarity of their own home, you can't imagine how it must feel doing that at another person's place. For a moment, you wish you could've seen him in the process of cooking, an opportunity you'd lost while you went off to shower and change.

When you taste it, what's missing drops into your thoughts; years of having cooked at home reveal the capability of identifying that quickly. You consider the suggestion and confirm what the soup's lacking when you clean up the spoon and take a second sample off the pot. "It's good," you say, setting it aside. "Just needs a bit of salt and more time to stew. The rest is fine."

"Thanks," he replies, hands going back to his pockets. "Paps wants to improve his cooking, so I figured I've gotta better mine some more before I teach 'im anything."

Again, your mind finds itself in a conflict. While it's charmed by the thoughtfulness of that comment, it's also clouded by the morose reminder of why you'd asked him to stay for dinner in the first place. To distract yourself, you add the missing ingredient to the soup and walk with Sans to the couch while it finishes boiling.

It feels strange to sit so far apart from each other, but he doesn't close off the distance, nor do you.

You prop a leg over the other and rest a hand over your knee, bouncing the one on the floor when you lack anything more to say. Your thoughts scramble around as you try to find a way to make the situation less awkward. When you glance back at him, you see it's something he also seems to want to end; your gaze meets with his when you both decide to look at each other's side -- synchronizing.

He shifts closer and you do the same, continuing until your hands touch.

Almost immediately, you pull back, yet your gaze remains locked with his, eyes drifting down to his teeth. Even as he gets nearer, you stay put, lost in your thoughts and the risky scenario unfolding. Your brain and heart scream at you to stop; your body -- conversely -- refuses to move out of its current spot and rebels by inching closer to him, until you're near enough to catch the scent of the only soap brand you often bought for showering: soft-scented, cheap, and antibacterial. It's strange to catch that aroma from someone other than yourself. Frisk preferred using a different kind, making the situation much more intimate than you would like it to feel.

You grab his hand again as he leans into you, only stopping himself when your back presses against the armrest. Then, he pulls his hand back and uses both to hold your shoulders and corner you right into place. Height difference makes it so that his legs stay knelt on the couch while yours hang off it, these tucked aside as you focus on the matter at hand. He brings himself closer as he tries to level out your heights, grip on you staying. The sound of your heart and of the soup simmering by the kitchen are the only two other things to keep your mind occupied from what's happening; anticipation makes your breaths waver.

As if the situation couldn't get tense enough, the door of the living room opens and in barge two people, leaving you in an iced state. 

Rather than Frisk and Toriel, it's Frisk and Jerry who stand at the frame, one casting a look of betrayal at the monster while the other scrutinizes the scene. You try standing up, yet the monster's hands hold you back, body held up over yours -- still cornered. His face reveals nothing but conflict, an expression similar to your state of mind regarding how freely to act with him. 

Jerry leaves without a word and shuts the door too slow for it to even click. Frisk does the rest of the job for him by locking it, checking it again, and saying nothing themselves as they look at you in the eye and sign, "Can we talk later, ren?"

Still in a tough position, you nod once, lacking strength or words to say anything out loud. 

Sans doesn't move even as Frisk disappears into the hallway.

You see his irises falter when you look at him; his gaze isn't fully there. A few drops of sweat are present on his forehead, and you can feel his hands grow colder with each second. "...Are you okay, Sans?" you ask, voice faint. "I, um... I think the soup should be ready now."

You hope that's enough to snap him out of it, only to have that contradicted when his hold on you stays. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he mutters, huffing, "I failed you."

Sans moves back while you sit up straight; silence returns. He stands up and goes to turn off the stove, all done within more time than you would expect as he chooses to stay there a few more minutes, staring aimlessly at the kitchen's wares. You rest your hands on your knees, and you wait to see what he does next. There's not much you can do now that you were caught in a moment like that one, and there's no time to beat yourself up over it, either. All you can do's admit your blame where it best seemed fit, and that was in letting your inner voice act before you. You'd given it your strongest efforts to wait until your first year of college to date Jerry, only to then wait until you had a stabler job by your second semester to actually do anything more serious with him, and later waited six more years alone, watching as Frisk grew up in your care for most of the time, only to let your wants show through now of all times.

Excuse through excuse -- be it valid or not -- you'd restricted yourself at every moment you saw possible.

All that, and yet it still felt as if you hadn't done enough.

You wanted to be stronger. 

"Frisk told me 'bout your situation," Sans says, distracting you from your thoughts. "Not whatever happened with Jerry, but the way you see monsters, and well… me, in general." He turns away from the kitchen and sits back down on the couch, looking directly at you, though for wholly different reasons than earlier ago. His hand stays over yours, more comforting than sultry. Were you to know him for any longer, you would've assumed he's holding his soul on his sleeve, yet you remind yourself he's still a stranger. "Maybe this's my habits showin' up, but if I were to judge you based on what they told me, I'd say you're labeling yourself as the bad guy." His fingers intersect with yours, squeezing your palm. "Of all the things I've gotten to learn about you, this's one of the least you should be blamin' yourself for. If anything, you're not exactly the only one responsible for all that's been happenin' right now."

Your breaths grow tighter the longer you keep listening to him. Your heart's racing again, yet it's not the same as before. The monster lets your hand go, continuing with, "I can't tell you just how different we are from each other, and how much I wish I had a fraction the amount of willpower you and your kid have." He sighs; a hint of a smile shows despite the furrow in his gaze. "You've got some things right about me, and one of 'em's havin' chosen to act too late. Being unable to be there for those I care about, more specifically." His nose cavity flares as he lets out a stifled laugh, remorse showing in spite of his best efforts not to let that happen. "I hate who I used to be, and even now, I still feel like I could've done more. I wanna try harder, but I don't have a clue on where to start with that."

Sans tries to stand up, yet fails to. He heaves out a breath as he closes his eye sockets and surrenders himself back on the couch; he rests his elbow over the armrest and lets his chin rest on his hand. After that, he looks back to your side, an apologetic gaze showing as his grin widens and his crease deepens, the way his monster anatomy worked allowing him to further display similar movements to that of a human narrowing their gaze. "Keep taking credit where it's due, (Y/N). And when you've got somethin' you want to improve, try your best to overcome it." He pauses, and the crease in his gaze lessens as he casts a fonder look at you. "Not that you ain't tryin' already. But you're still takin' up too much of the blame, and not realizing when you can be free. It doesn't have to be with me -- or anybody else, for that matter -- but try to live life a lil' more. Don't just dwell on the past and restrain yourself from stuff you want to achieve for yourself. You should live for you, just as you're tryna live for others."

He closes his eye sockets and brings a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead until he lets out a hushed sigh. Then, he opens them and straightens up on his seat, hands resting on his lap. There's a brief pause, broken when he breathes in again, saying, "...So a skeleton and a single parent walk into a bar," he takes another stop, continuing with, "One bares their skin to the bartender, earnest down to the bone," his breath hitches, yet he composes himself quickly, "the other sits back, looks into the past, and then wonders why he's feelin' so lonely."

He huffs and ends it all with a chuckle and an attempt at covering his face away from your sight. You stop him with the brush of a hand, taking his cheekbone when he turns to you. His body's shaking and a few tears escape his sockets, these he tries to wipe with his free hand, only for you to hold him back by doing that yourself. Caught in the moment, you kiss one of them away, the expectance of a salty taste proven wrong as you receive a hint of sweetness instead -- reflecting the memory of your day with him at the pâtisserie. His shoulders shake as he chokes back a sob, breaking down. His hands grab your back, bringing you in for a hug as he seeks more comfort. In that embrace, you can feel how his rib cage rises and falls at quick intervals, slowing down when you hug him back and wait until he breaks it apart.

The wait's as long as you expect it for someone in his state; the weight of his breaths diminish as he calms down and lets you go.

"Sorry about that," he comments, chuckling. "Wasn't really myself for a moment there, huh?"

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A Dangerous Game

Part 32

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Alright my darlings! It’s here, the last part of ADG! This story has been such a wild ride, and I have loved writing it. I hope you all loved reading it! It’s been amazing, and I cannot tell you all how much I’ve loved hearing from you! Please feel free to pop into my messages or asks for an “ask my muse” for ADG as well as Something Wicked. I love you all! Enjoy!--- chaotic puff

Christmas passed in tense silence. She still refused to speak to him. Every attempt was met with hostility, and his patience was waning. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered watching her walk down the stairs in that gold gown. She was positively ethereal, a golden goddess, but she was as cold as the winter air. Staring straight ahead of her and straight past where Namjoon waited for her, and straight to where Jungkook waited for her with her fur wrap in hand.

“You look beautiful.” Namjoon complimented as she breezed past him allowing Jungkook to place the wrap around her shoulders. “Y/N.” He sighed annoyance creeping into his tone as she ignored him.

“Shall we?” She asked throwing him a cold smile over her shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“We don’t want to be late.”

There was a dark spark in her eye that unsettled him. She was going along far too easily. She’d been fighting him in a cold war for weeks, but when it came to the gala she was perfectly willing to go even though she was still treating him like a carrier of the plague. He’d expressed his hesitance to Jin, and Jin had been quick to point out that he was going to be so busy with the gala that she could mingle freely, something she hadn’t been able to do since he’d taken her. That had brought its own concerns, but the boys had all promised to keep an eye on her.

Everyone was going to keep a sharp eye on her throughout the night especially considering the vast assortment of guests that there would be in attendance not that that made Namjoon feel any better. She looked far too lovely for him to be comfortable letting her roam through a room of his associates, but she was expected to be there especially by those who hadn’t been in attendance at the wedding.

As soon as they reached the venue she’d melded into the crowd Jungkook following on her heels ever the loyal guard and little brother. Namjoon hadn’t even had a chance to introduce her to anyone, but Namjoon’s eyes were always scanning the room looking for a hint of her in the crowd. He’d catch the occasional flash of her skirt or a glimpse of Jungkook, but she was easily lost in the crowd, and he had greetings to give and respects to receive.

“RM!” Crowed the voice of a man Namjoon had no patience to deal with. “How are you? Where is that lovely wife of yours?”

“JB.” He growled pasting on a sharp smile of his own.

“I don’t see Y/N? Where is the lovely lady? I thought she would be here?” He looked around the room scanning the crowd for the elusive Mrs. Kim.

“She’s with Jungkook, circling the room.” He shrugged off the question his expression sharp and cautious though his posture remained relaxed. JB didn’t have any power here, while Namjoon was still armed and dangerous.

“Shouldn’t she by your side?” He quirked a brow sipping at his drink still searching the crowd for her. “Shirking her wifely duties already?”

Namjoon growled under his breath at that. JB had no place sticking his nose into their marriage. “She’s mingling. She is the hostess.”

“You’re sure she’s not just avoiding you? She did try to leave you.” He pointed out with a wicked smirk. “She hasn’t run off again, has she?”

“My wife is perfectly safe and being escorted by one of my best men.”

“But not with you.”

His smile was cold but polite. “She’s very safe as she is.”

“You’re sure about that?”

While Namjoon did his duty as leader of Bangtan, Y/N had other plans. She was on the hunt for someone specific though Jungkook made that hard. She didn’t find him intimidating, but those who milled around her were quickly scared away by the tall, brawny boy. The dark look in his eyes didn’t hurt in that department either. None of these urchins were worthy of being near his noona in his eyes.

“Dance with me, noona?” He asked plastering on a bright bunny grin when a brave soul came up looking like he had something to ask. Jungkook wasn’t having that.

She smiled and agreed letting Jungkook pull her onto the dance floor not noticing the dark glare he shot at the other man as he began to twirl her around the floor.

“I didn’t know you danced?” She laughed as Jungkook spun her. “Where has this skill been hiding?”

“Where Namjoon hyung can’t shoot me for dancing with his wife.” He chuckled pulling her back in.

“And it would have nothing to do with the man who was approaching when you whisked me away?” She asked smiling as Jungkook looked at her wide eyed not expecting to be caught red handed. “So who am I allowed to dance with?”

“Namjoon hyung and the other hyungs.” He murmured guiltily.

“What if I wanted to dance with someone?” She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Kookie.” She whined making her eyes as big and pleading as she could. “It’s a gala. I can’t just dance with you guys. It would be rude.”

“And who do you want to dance with?” He asked quirking a brow at her.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged letting him twirl her again. “But I can’t avoid everyone that’s not one of you seven forever. The men here outnumber the women two to one at least.”

“Noona.” He sighed as their song came to an end and he led her to the edge of the floor again.

She shot him her big pleading eyes again trying her best to seem innocent. If Jungkook knew her plans, everything would be ruined. She needed him to trust that she was still his delicate trapped noona, and not the scheming woman that she was. She knew this was going to break his heart, and it was going to break her heart to leave him behind as well. But as much as she loved Jungkook, he was still Namjoon’s friend, Namjoon’s family. He wasn’t going to leave with her. He wasn’t going to betray his family like that.

“I’ll be fine, Kookie.” She smiled softly, trying to be as demure as possible. Demure ladies did not scheme. “What could happen with you by my side?”

Jungkook sighed furrowing his brows in concentration. “We should really ask hyung.”

“And he would say no, and then we would offend everyone that isn’t Bangtan.”

“Jungkook, can I steal my wife away?” Namjoon asked appearing at their side holding a hand out for her to take knowing that she couldn’t refuse him in public like this.

“Of course, hyung.” He bowed casting one last worried look at her before backing away into the crowd.

“Namjoon.” She greeted stiffly allowing him to pull her back onto the dance floor despite her tense posture.

“Are you enjoying the party?” He asked pulling her close.

“It’s fine.”

“You’re not feeling ill are you?” His brows furrowed as he cast a worried glance over her trying to detect any signs of distress or sickness.

She shook her head pasting on a brittle smile. “I’m fine.”

He pulled her closer whispering into her ear as they danced. “You look radiant tonight. Almost like you’re glowing.”

She scoffed under her breath. “Glowing?”

“Gold is an excellent color on you.”  

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She pulled back slightly desperate for some space. This was the closest she had been to him in weeks, and his proximity was making her uneasy. “Don’t you have people to see and greet.”

He laughed lightly smiling down at her. “I can’t dance with my wife?” He asked teasing her gently.

“It would be preferable if you didn’t.”

He sighed. He had hoped that by now they would have made a little more progress than they had, but she still flinched at his touch. He could see her practically itching to get away from him.

“Just one dance.” He pleaded, praying that she would agree.  

She paused considering the request. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, but she could do this one thing. “One dance.” She agreed albeit reluctantly.

The relief that swept through Namjoon was astronomical. He wouldn’t have put it past her to refuse to continue the dance based on the simple fact that she hated him. It was the first time she had allowed him to touch her in weeks, and he was going to savor every moment of it, savor having her in his arms again especially when she looked so lovely.

He wasn’t lying when he said she had a glow about her. She seemed to shine from within the gold of the gown illuminating the healthy and youthful aura about her. It was a relief to see her looking so well after how sick she had been. Jin swore up and down that it was stress, but Namjoon still worried. She was his world. He hated to think that anything was wrong with her.

“You know I really am sorry.” He murmured into her ear internally cringing at the way she stiffened even more in his arms. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then why did you do it?” She asked turning her gaze to meet his. “Knowing what you know and claiming that you love me, why would you do that?”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

She scoffed pulling away a little more, her hard shell of indifference taking its place around her once more. “So you’ve said. But you did. Sorry doesn’t change that.” Her eyes scanned the room over her shoulder meeting Mark’s in the crowd. He nodded at her, and she knew instantly and much to her relief that it was time to end the dance. “Excuse me,” She said pulling away. “I need to slip to the lady’s.”

She picked up her skirt gliding into the crowd and away from him as Namjoon was approached once more by men looking to make a good impression.

“Noona?” Jungkook asked appearing by her side once more.

“I’m fine. I just need to slip to the powder room. I’ll be back in a minute.” She smiled lightly touching his arm reassuringly. “I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

He nodded allowing her to go as he was pulled into conversation with someone she didn’t know.

She slipped away hiding herself away in the lady’s room that was situated outside of the main ballroom. And was met with an intense wave of relief that Mark was waiting there for her.

“Oh thank god.” She breathed out practically sagging in relief. “Is everything ready?” Her eyes flicked to the door nervous that they were followed or that Jungkook would pop out of nowhere. For such a large man, he was suspiciously good at sneaky. She swore the kid had ninja skills to rival Mark’s. She never had figured out how Mark had managed to get into the estate all those times.

“Everything is as ready as it’s going to be. Are you ready?” He asked watching her with sympathetic eyes. They both knew what was going to happen next was not going to be pleasant.

“Do it quickly?” She begged trying to be brave despite how scared she felt. Anything could go wrong.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured smiling as brightly as he could given the situation. “I have Jackson out there running interference. We don’t have long to get this done before someone notices that you’re missing and all hell breaks loose.”

“Just do it.”

She braced herself against the counter gritting her teeth in preparation for the pain that was to come, mouth set in a grim line.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured before moving her hair aside and making a cut on the back of her neck.

Y/N had to bite back a scream of pain at the sensation, but she had to bear it. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut taking in deep shuddering breaths to keep herself still and quiet. She couldn’t make a sound. If she made a sound, someone would definitely come running.

“Just hold on a few minutes. I’ll get it out, and then you’ll be done.” He promised trying to extract the chip.

She didn’t know what was worse, the incision or the digging around for the chip. It was like fire in her veins burning through her. She could only grit and bear it though.

“Is it out yet?” She hissed her whole face scrunched up in pain.

“I’ve almost got it. It’s a stubborn little bugger. Why on earth do they make these so tiny?” He cursed. “I’ve almost…. Got it!” He cheered holding a pair of tweezers with a tiny little blood covered chip pressed between the tongs. “Oh, shit, here let me help with the blood.”

Mark frantically grabbed towels pressing them against the wound he’d caused in the back of her neck. “Okay, keep pressure on that. I’ll grab the bandage.”

“You didn’t ruin the dress did you?” She joked a little breathless from the procedure.

“Luckily the low cut back managed to keep most of the blood from the fabric.” He smiled placing a bandage against her neck and laying her hair over it. “You ready to get out of here?”

“God, yes.” She said slipping of the ring that Namjoon had forced on her and dropping it to the bathroom floor. 

“Change into this then.”

She didn’t know how he did it, but he seemed to have pulled a black dress out of seemingly nowhere. She could swear the man was magic. The change was to make them less conspicuous as they tried to slip out of the party, and the gold Gucci gown that Taehyung had picked for her was anything but subtle, and subtlety was key in this situation.  

Once she was done, the pair slipped out of the bathroom wandering back out into the hall and back into the main room. They had to slip past all of the guests and back through the service hallways to make it to the getaway car. This was the hardest part of the whole plan, making it through the party in one piece. If any of Namjoon’s men or Namjoon himself figured them out, neither of them would be making it out of this.

What greeted them in the main room was not what she was expecting though. Everything had been fine less than ten minutes ago, but now the room was filled with a subdued hush as Namjoon stood in the middle of the room gun drawn on a horribly familiar figure being held on his knees by Jungkook.

“Oh God.” She breathed clutching onto Mark’s arm to keep herself steady.

“Don’t move.” He whispered into her ear. Both of their eyes were glued to the scene in front of them.

Namjoon wasn’t saying anything, but the look on his face was anything but pleased, and the fact that JB was being held back by Hoseok and Taehyung didn’t make her feel any better about the situation.

She turned with wide frightened eyes to stare up at Mark. He shook his head warning her to keep quiet, to keep still.

“Where is she?” Namjoon’s deep voice spread through the room like a thick fog choking her.

“Go to hell.” Jackson spit hocking a glob of actual spit onto Namjoon’s dress shoes only to get himself pistol whipped.

“Do you think you can keep her from me?”  He seethed grabbing Jackson by the hair and forcing his head up. “Do you really think whatever ill-conceived plan you have is going to work, that I wouldn’t know you were up to something? Where is she?”

Jackson didn’t answer but his laugh filled the room deep and almost manic completely nonplused by the gun in his face or the man holding him down. “You’re not going to find her.”

The grin that settled over Namjoon’s features was nothing less than bone chilling. Namjoon was scary on a good day. He carried himself well always establishing himself as the most powerful man in the room, but tonight he exuded a dangerous aura, something lethal in his eyes. She hadn’t seen him like this before, not when she’d tried to run from him, not when she’d been bartered off to him, not when Jackson had cornered her at the wedding. There was no warmth or mercy in the man before her.

“You have ten seconds to tell me where she is.”

Jackson grinned. “Go to hell, you fucking son of a bitch.”

And there were no ten seconds, only the unforgiving sound of a gun echoing through the room.

Everything seemed to slow down, the world held its breath for a moment as Jackson fell out of Jungkook’s hold and onto the ground eyes wide and empty as the hole in his forehead. She nearly collapsed with him if it weren’t for Mark’s arms holding her up, and the hand across her mouth that stopped her screams from echoing across the room and alerting Namjoon to her presence.

And then everything sped up again. People were running trying to clear the room to escape Namjoon’s wrath while his men searched around the room for her and gunshots rained down on the members of GOT7. JB was the first to fall after Jackson, the others following swiftly behind.

“We have to go.” Mark whispered voice shaking as he tugged her in the direction of the door.

“We can’t leave him.” She sobbed fighting his hold to get back to him. “We can’t leave him there.”

“There’s nothing we can do now.”

“That’s my brother. That’s Jackson. I can’t leave him there.”

Mark didn’t let up though dragging her through the crowd easily hiding her in the rush of people trying to leave. “We can’t do anything for him, but I can still do something for you.”

An underling approached Namjoon clutching Y/N’s dress in his hands. “Sir? I found this in the bathroom along with some bloody towels.”

With no hesitation Namjoon put a bullet between his eyes turning his furious gaze to Yoongi and Hoseok. “Find her. I don’t care what you have to do. Find her.”

She didn’t know where in the process of fleeing she lost her shoes, but she knew they were gone. Mark ran with her through the streets trying to get her numb figure to safety. She was shoved, prodded, and dragged all the way to the airport. Their getaway flight was nothing glamorous, a cargo plane that had been paid off to take them to Moscow, and from there who knew where else. She was cold, heartbroken, uncomfortable, and exhausted, but she was safe. She was free.

epilogue

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3.6k 

Masterlist link here

AO3 Link here

Genre / Pairing: Romance, Akaashi / Reader

Summary: 

Loosely based on the anime filme ‘Your Name’, also known as Kimi No Nawa.

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her songs to the gods in the wind.

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

Pro tip: Italics denote scenes in Akaashi’s dreams / past.  

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

He is seventeen again. 

Practice is hard especially with his new captaincy, with first years to train and a mountain of paperwork to clear, but even as each jolt of the train home settles exhaustion further into his bones, he’s more concerned at the sustained silence from her. His phone is empty of her text messages - no funny stories, no silly jokes, no pictures of sun drenched flower fields - but he tells himself she’s fine, she’s probably occupied herself with something vaguely illegal that she’ll tell him later about and laugh away his disapproval.

He’s in the middle of dinner when his father turns on the television to watch the news. It’s just background noise, newscasters droning on about which dignitary is visiting Tokyo this week, how the stock markets are doing, when monsoon storms are forecasted to sweep across Japan, but his interest is piqued when the newscasters mention ‘the tragedy of latchkey kids - the death of a schoolgirl in a rural Hokkaido town’.

It can’t be, he thinks, swiveling around in his seat to stare at the screen. It can’t be, he thinks, in frozen shock, as the screen shows a familiar wooden house in flames, broadcast live on national TV. 

‘The police are investigating this tragedy as an unsolved murder -’

(It can) 

‘The victim was seventeen years old -’

(It is) 

‘Calling for any witnesses to step forward -’

(She’s dead) 

‘Keiji, what wrong?’ he faintly hears his mother ask, and he looks down. His chopsticks lie slack in his hand, the other hand clenched and trembling so hard he’s knocked his bowl over, rice spilling onto the dinner table. 

‘Sorry - I don’t feel so good’, he mutters, stumbling his way into the bathroom, his stomach retching at the horror tearing down his throat like acid. Even as he clutches the cold porcelain with shaking hands to empty his stomach of its contents, his gut burns from the realization that she’s gone - there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Wait a minute. 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sprinting to his bedroom to snatch up his omamori, before bursting out of the door, deaf to his parents’ worried shouts. He doesn’t stop running, doesn’t even stop to take a breath until he’s leapt up all twenty six steps to the shrine where he first prayed to the gods to grant his wish for more time, a wish binding their souls together in a fated knot. 

(Except that’s not true anymore, because she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead - unless he can use their bind to twist fate and bring her back from the dead)

His hands are numb when he claps them together, his head spinning as he bows, fingers barely able to grasp as he scrawls another prayer on the ema, hanging the wooden plaque on the wishing tree. 

‘You’ve already upended my life by tangling it up with hers. Please - please  grant my wish and I’ll give up anything, including what’s dearest to me’, he silently pleads, closing his eyes in prayer. 

But the gods stay silent. The shrine remains still.

The shrine attendant chases him out when it’s closing time, and he fends off his parents’ concerned looks by feeding them a lie about forgetting to help one of his teammates with homework, shutting himself in the room.

But the problem is he can’t seem to fall asleep, not when the image of a white sheet draped over her cold body is branded into the back of his eyelids. Not when he can still hear the echo of her laughter as she teases him about his old fashioned book recommendations that she still ends up reading curled up under a tree. Not when his soul has traced the constellation on her back, the crescent dimple in her right cheek -

Damn it all - he needs to fall asleep to have any chance of waking up in her body in her yesterday or is it her today - he’s not sure, doesn’t dare look at the clock for fear of chasing sleep further away, why can’t he fall asleep - he’s done this countless times before, waking up in her body in her yesterday while she wakes up in his today which resets when he then wakes up in his own body tomorrow - 

Time flutters through his fingers like fallen petals scattering in the wind and he can tell from the growing sliver of light through his curtains that it’s almost daybreak - so he stumbles desperately into the bathroom to break into his mother’s medicine cabinet, swallowing twice the recommended dosage. It’s dangerous he knows, but he can’t bring himself to even think twice about it. 

A prayer is still on his lips when his eyes finally drift shut and sleep finally overtakes him. 

 He cracks his eyes open. 

Ah, he’s in her living room. She must have just reached home from school because the irori only emits thin ribbons of smoke, flames licking the kindling in the heath. But that doesn’t explain why he’s lying face down in the dust - 

Then a dull pain hits him. Copper pools in his mouth. Hot liquid drips down his forehead. 

He curses the gods for their sick sense of humour.

‘What are you doing here, Keiji?’ he hears her whimper. ‘You aren’t supposed to be here, he’s going to end up killing us both.’

‘Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. Tell me what happened’, he answers, trying his best to inject a commanding tone to cover up the fear seeping into his words. 

‘Hana-chan must have told her father I managed to get records of whatever awful shit he’s been doing to her, because he was waiting for me when I came home from school. I refused to give the recordings to him and tried to bite his hand and I guess he lost his temper…’

‘We need to have a conversation about your lack of self-preservation when we get out of this mess’ he points out, terror building up in his throat when he’s suddenly aware of the way his arms are twisted behind his back, cloth rope binding his wrists together in place. But before he can even try to struggle against the binds, he’s pinned in place by a knee on his back.  

‘Awake already, little girl? I would’ve thought you would stay asleep a little longer considering how much you bleed from a silly little smack on the head.’ Nakamura chuckles, threading his cold fingers into his hair, and with a swift flick of his wrist, slams his face back against the floor. 

Crack. 

Akaashi gasps for air, dazed at the pain that blooms across his face. 

‘You’re not as pretty as my little Hana-chan, but it would be a pity to smash your face in. So are you going to tell me where you’ve hidden your dirty little recordings, little thief?’ Nakamura coos, and Akaashi can feel the hair at the back of his neck rise in alarm. 

‘Don’t give in to him’, she shrieks, her panic echoing in his mind. But Akaashi’s in the driver’s seat this time, and he’ll be damned if he lets her die on his watch - not when he already knows the pain of losing her once before.   

Think, Akaashi. You have a brain, think!

‘It’s on my phone in my bedroom’, he mumbles thickly, keeping his voice weak. ‘You can go get it yourself.’ 

Nakamura relinquishes his grasp on his hair, brushing the dirt from his pants onto him. ‘I’m glad you have some sense at least, little lady. But if I find you’ve been wasting my time, I’ll make sure no one even recognises your face by the time I’m done with you’. 

Akaashi waits for his footsteps to fade.

Then he rolls his body across the flow, tipping himself straight into the irori. This probably ranks as one of the most reckless things he’s ever done in his entire life, but it’s not as if he has many options with both his hands and feet bound. It’s also possible he’s been infected by her particular strain of insanity. It’s the only way he can think of to break loose from his bonds, using the flames to singe through the rope binds, but it hurts to place naked flame directly on bare flesh, blisters forming and popping and he bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds because oh gods it hurts, it hurts, it hurts – 

Thank the gods it works, he’s able to wriggle free - not a moment too soon because he can hear the door to her bedroom crash open. Between the daze from the concussion and blood loss, he’s not going to be able to outrun Nakamura to get to safety, especially not when he’s in her body, what the hell is he going to do – 

‘Store room’, he hears her gasp. 

He grits his teeth as he crawls out of the heath, mentally calculating the distance to the back of the kitchen, divided by the blistering pain in his hands and feet. 

’Move, Keiji!’ She shrieks, the thud of heavy footfalls resounding through the house ominously. 

Adrenaline and terror floods his blood. It’s barely enough to fuel his sprint to the storeroom. He doesn’t dare to look back when Nakamura snarls - ‘what the fuck are you doing, you piece of shit’, only stops to breathe when the lock clicks in place. But he doesn’t get a moment’s reprieve, the door shuddering with the weight of a deranged man’s rage. 

‘It would be easy for me to burn the house down with you in it. No one would question any foul play if a wooden house goes up in flames. Or would you prefer it if I wait for little Toya-chan to get home and bash his little head in? It’s your choice, bitch.’ 

‘What should we do?’ he asks her desperately. 

‘You’re going to think I’m crazy... ’ 

‘Let’s not waste time on foregone conclusions, thanks.’

‘Right. Remember how I told you fire is life?’

 It’s a testament to how well he knows her that he knows exactly what she means. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’ He breathes, horrified. 

‘Do you have any other ideas?’ she retorts.

But she’s right, they’re essentially stranded on a flaming shipwreck, there’s nowhere else for them to run. Cursing the gods over and over again for their twisted sense of humour, Akaashi scrabbles around the store room, grabbing the ingredients to light this powder keg of an escape plan. 

‘Ready?’ 

‘Ready when you are.’ 

‘Okay’ he says, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to keep his anxiety at bay. ‘Okay’ he repeats, loud enough for Nakamura to hear him through the door. ‘I’ll unlock the door if you leave Toya alone’. 

‘Smart girl.’ He can hear the menacing chill in the older man’s voice, but there’s no time to second guess his decision as he unlocks the door. He lets Nakamura make the first move, lets him yank the door open, and with the benefit of years of setting experience (thank you, Bokuto-san), he flicks his wrist to send a perfect arc of an entire bottle’s worth of liquid petrol splattering against Nakamura’s front. 

‘Stand back or I’ll set you on fire’ he threatens, holding her ridiculous pink lighter like a weapon as Nakamura splutters in shock. 

But the man only shakes off his surprise with a menacing laugh, slowly straightening into his full height, leaning against the door. ‘You don’t have it in you, little girl, you’re just like my Hana-chan. She used to put up a fight, always trying to scratch my eyes out but now she’s learnt that little girls should be good and docile - ‘

He can feel the brewing firestorm of rage from her. It’s not unwarranted, not when he’s seen through her eyes the abuse Hana’s suffered at his hands and in a spurt of impulsivity that shocks even himself, he surges forward to grab the man’s shirt, the naked flame from the lighter mere millimeters away from his face. ‘How dare you, disgusting pig - she’s your flesh and blood’, he spits.

Nakamura grins, deranged. ‘Exactly. She’s mine to use, and you’re going to regret ever trying to get in my way.’ He slams his head against Akaashi’s already broken nose (or rather - her nose) and  - oh gods pain bursts across his face and he trips, falling onto his back. Nakamura doesn’t waste any time, climbing on top of him, fingers digging into his throat. 

‘Let go of me’, he rasps, his vision starting to blur. Nakamura only tightens his grip, nails digging into the tender flesh of his neck.

But even with air being choked out of his lungs, her refrain ‘fire is life’ smolders in his mind. The gods must feel some pity for him today because Nakamura is so intent on going for his throat that he’s left his hands unchecked, so he closes his eyes in prayer and desperation, twisting his face as far away from his target as possible and presses his thumb on the lever on her lighter -

Everything goes up in flames. 

Nakamura screams, stumbling away, and the sound should spark a sense of cruel satisfaction if blinding pain exploding in his face weren’t a more immediate concern. There’s fire everywhere, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts -  but he already knows what hell feels like, this is nothing compared to the nightmare of her dying, so he gathers the last of his strength to fight against the ash suffocating the oxygen from his lungs, stumbles out of the backdoor to drop and roll in the mud until the flames on his clothes recede. 

He’s alive. She’ll survive. 

But it's at a high cost - the white hot pain of blistering burns all over his - well, her body slamming into him like a freight train when adrenaline recedes. Gasping in pain, he welcomes the gathering darkness at the edges of his vision. He tries not to think of the survival rate of burn victims, nor the risk of infection should medical treatment not be administered soon enough - this is as far as he can possibly go. He lies on his back, completely depleted. 

The grass rustles. The wind blows. 

Toya stands over him, eyes wide. ‘Nee-chan, what’s going on?’

Oh. Thank the gods. 

‘Toya. You have to run and get help, ok?’ he manages to rasp before darkness finally devours him, swallows him whole. 

He opens his eyes and finds himself back in the forest shrine. 

It takes him a split second to gather his bearings before he leaps to his feet, his lungs still burning from the taint of smoke, his mouth still acrid with the bitter taste of ash, and he doesn’t know if either of them are alive or heaven forbid - if he failed and she’s dead – 

‘Keiji, you idiot!’ He hears her shriek as he’s tackled from behind, crashing face first into the forest floor. 

He’ll thank the gods again and again for the rest of his life because -she’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive - 

She throws herself into his lap, crying as she beats her fists against his chest. ‘You fool! You dummy! You scold me for being reckless, but what if you died when your soul was stuck in my body –‘  

‘You’re alive’, he breathes in disbelief, cupping her face in his shaking hands, letting the warmth from her cheeks bleed into his skin. 

She flushes, burying her head into the crook of his neck. ‘You’re not getting out of being scolded but yes, I think so’, she mumbles, her words muffled. 

 His heart grows cold. ‘What do you mean you think so?’ 

‘Where we are isn’t real - is it?’ 

She motions for him to be silent, to listen. There's the faint beeping of a hospital monitor, barely discernible over the whispering of leaves. ‘I think we’re in my mind for now. Or my consciousness, I’m not sure. I woke up to a bright light that beckoned me to follow it, but I saw you lying here and wanted to wait for you.’ 

Fear grips his heart, the spectre of black smoke and white sheets haunting him anew. ‘Don’t follow it’, he demands, latching on to her shoulders. ‘I’m not losing you again.’ 

‘I’m not going anywhere’, she promises with a smile, the sight quenching the fear in his heart. ‘I’m here, Keiji. I’m here. You said you wouldn’t let anything happen on your watch, remember?’ 

‘That was before you got yourself killed when I wasn’t looking’, he retorts dryly, though he’s unable to fully smother the smile blooming on his face.  

‘It wasn’t my fault!’ 

‘I told you not to get caught in the first place!’ 

‘Yeah - but you came for me nonetheless’, she says, eyes sparkling. ‘You came for me, like Perseus saving Andromeda from her shackles, snatching her from the very jaws of the sea monster.’

He chuckles, amused that she remembers the stories he tells her. ‘Nakamura was definitely uglier than a sea monster, so I’m sure that’s an accurate comparison. ’

‘Stupid!’ she laughs, raising her hand to playfully smack him again when he catches her hand in his. He steals a moment to marvel at the constellations in her eyes, wondering if the stars in the sky are jealous of her light. He wants to bask in the spotlight of her warmth and songs and laughter forever and oh gods -

He’s in love with her.

The realisation strikes him like a hammer blow to the chest. 

Has it already been a year that he’s spent mapping out the infinite breadth and depth of her soul? A year that he’s spent watching her wield her kindness like a sword and a shield. A year that fate has spent trying to smother her fearlessness to no avail - she still burns like an undying flame in the night sky. A year of unwritten poetry buried in spring flowers, stanzas of the wind echoing her songs to the gods. A year's worth of lessons in patience and exuberance and laughter, reminding him that life is a miracle to be treasured and not to be dismissed as a mere series of goals.

It is only now that he understands why his heart crumbled into dust, why his soul tore itself apart when he found out that she died -  because he loves her, this silly scrap of a girl.   

Her eyes widen as he tugs her forward to lean his forehead against hers. For once she’s at a loss for words. 

I love you  –  he wants to whisper against the rosebud of her lips, wants to shout it loud enough for the whole forest – nay, for every speck of stardust in the galaxy to hear. His mouth moves to form the words, but suddenly his tongue grows thick, his mouth goes dry. 

His heart stutters to a painful stop. 

He can’t remember her name anymore. 

He tries to say her name again, tries to spell out the syllables with his tongue but it’s no use, his mind remains stubbornly blank. It can’t be. He must have said her name a thousand times in this lifetime, recited each syllable like a sacred verse. 

How could he have forgotten her name?

‘What’s wrong?’ She pulls away, noticing the horror taut on his face. 

Beep. 

He looks down at his hands. Flesh and bone start to fade to dust.

‘Keiji’, she calls, and he can hear the Kodama in the trees echo his name. Keiji, they call. Keiji, she calls again. 

Beep. 

‘I’m starting to forget you’, he whispers, heart breaking anew as despair dawns in her eyes. 

‘No - ’ she cries, desperation in her voice, repeating his name again and again - Keiji, Keiji, Keiji and he wants to respond with her name, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t -. 

Beep. 

His memories of her are golden hued and bathed in starlight, but slowly they all wash away into shades of grey. He tries his best to grasp onto them, but it’s  hopeless -like trying to capture the sea with his bare hands. 

Beep. 

He thinks of her, dancing in grassy meadows, with moonbeams as her lone light. 

Beep. 

He thinks of her, singing to the gods in the shadow of the forest shrine. 

Beep. 

He thinks of her, brimming with laughter and joy and kindness and love - and gods - 

Beep. 

How is it even be possible to forget the birdsong in her laughter, the blossoms in her cheeks - 

Beep. 

‘Keiji! ’ She reaches desperately for him, tears spilling from her eyes.

Beep. 

 His time runs out. His soul starts to fade into the night.

Beep. 

Her eyes shine bright, the constellations liquid silver in her eyes. 

‘I’ll find you, Akaashi Keiji - even if it takes me a hundred lifetimes, even if I have to wait a thousand years. So you better be ready for me when I find you, because - because I love you -  I love you, you fool.’ 

Beep. 

It’s the last memory he forgets of her, her vow losing its light in the darkness of his mind. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

He wakes up with a gasp. 

He is twenty five again, lying on the forest floor with a halo of fireflies dancing above his head.

It’s been almost a whole decade since he was seventeen but finally - he remembers her. 

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Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero @magic713m @ccboomer @aubsenroute @somebodyswatson​

Chapter Fifteen The Heist

Luna Lovegood hated Hogwarts. Yes, she was in Ravenclaw, and yes, she loved learning, but school? School was where curiosity went to die in a long, slow, stretched out sentence.

For Luna, the transition from her family home, where her father had encouraged her explorations and experiments, to a place of high stone walls and demanding bells had been terrible for her, and she’d nearly quit after her first year.

Now she was glad that she had persisted, because school had one thing worthwhile: Ginny Weasley.

When Ginny had hexed those boys for calling her Loony, the stars in the dark night had burst into existence, and school had become not just bearable, but pleasant. Luna had skipped everywhere for the rest of the that week.

This year, however, there was no skipping. Even Herbology, one of Luna’s favourite subjects, was overcast by the horrid cloud that Snape and the Carrows left on the school.

At least Ginny and Neville were in Herbology with her. N.E.W.T.-level courses often combined sixth and seventh years, and Luna was glad to have her closest friends with her at least once a week.

They were currently repotting Venomous Tentacula, which involved lots of soothing whispers and gentle strokes to the stem and vines. Neville worked easily, and Luna did too, even humming a lullaby to her knot of vines as she transferred the plant into a larger pot and carefully aerated the soil.

“Ow!” Ginny hissed, drawing her hand away from her plant.

Luna patted one of her vines and paused her melody. “Did it bite you, Ginny?”

Ginny pressed her wounded hand to her mouth. “Just got me with its leaves. Bloody bastard hates me.”

“You have to be gentle,” she sang, and reached for a watering can.

“I am gentle!”

Luna giggled. Ginny could be gentle, but it was not her natural state by any stretch.

Once Luna had finished repotting her Tentacula, she moved to Ginny’s station to help her work.

“You have to be kind and patient.” Luna ran her fingers along one of the vines. “It’s a sensitive plant.”

Beneath Luna’s hands, the vines no longer lashed out with sharp, sudden outbursts of movement, but instead swayed in time to her humming.

“See?” Luna paused her song. “Now put your fertilizer in that pot.”

Professor Sprout praised them all for their hard work, and congratulated them for finishing the lesson without any bite accidents. “There’s usually at least one of you turned bright purple and on your way up to the hospital wing, but you all did excellent work today,” she beamed at them.

“Hospital wing’s full up anyway,” Hannah Abbott mumbled, just out of Sprout’s earshot, as she cleaned up her work station.

Hannah looked unusually wild today. Her thick plaits were uncharacteristically loose, and dirt streaked her cheeks. She wrestled her book into her bag with the sort of determination one might use when salvaging Snargaluff pods.

Neville reached across his station to hers and picked up her shovel and trowel. “Ernie will be fine,” he murmured, and returned her tools to the greenhouse shed.

Hannah tried and failed to regain control of her trembling lip, then hurried out of the greenhouse before Neville could come back.

It wasn’t just Ernie, who was recovering from a detention after he had called the Daily Prophet “rubbish” and added that he hoped Harry would show up at Hogwarts so he could “put Snape in his place.”

It was Parvati and Padma Patil, who had refused to attend Muggle Studies. Each night that they refused earned them a night of detention, until after three weeks both girls had become too ill to attend any of their classes.

It was Hugh Ward, who had defiantly announced to the boys in his Slytherin dormitory that he was a half-blood.

Luna didn’t know what curses the boys had used to try to punish Hugh for being so proud of his Muggle lineage, but he had been in the hospital wing all week. Luna had visited him, and the Patil twins. She made a point to visit anyone who had been in Dumbledore’s Army, because they were her friends.

On these visits, it was not uncommon for her to find Hannah, helping Madam Pomfrey change linens and administer medicine to those who needed it. Though Hannah never did any of the Charm work in the hospital wing, she watched closely each time Madam Pomfrey cast a spell.

Luna knew that Hannah wanted to become a Healer. Each time Luna visited the hospital wing, she thought about becoming a Healer, too. She liked caring for people, and she was taking enough N.E.W.T.s for it. But so much of Healing was urgent, and Luna had never done well with urgent.

“Must you always move so slowly?” Ginny snapped.

Luna frowned at her gloves as she packed them away. She much preferred the greenhouse to the castle and couldn’t understand why Ginny was so eager to get back. She’d much rather be down here with the fresh air than back with the Carrows.

“Come on,” Ginny whined, “I’m starved.”

Luna squeezed her Herbology textbook between her personal field guide and the thick tome for Transfiguration. With those three texts and her scaly Care of Magical Creatures book, her bag was nearly bursting at the seams.

“Why didn’t you eat breakfast?” Luna shouldered her heavy bag and hurried to the door where Ginny and Neville were waiting.

“I wasn’t hungry at breakfast.”

“Helen said she was sulking in the Owlery after a row with Harry,” Neville whispered, but not as quietly as he should have.

“We didn’t have a row! And anyway, don’t use his name. Someone might hear you.”

“Should we just call him You-Know-Who?” Neville asked with a grin.

Ginny shoved him, none too gently, and picked up her pace, leaving Neville and Luna trailing behind her.

Luna pursed her lips and looked up at Neville. There was something different about him this year, but Luna couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Did you grow taller over the summer?” she asked, and tried to gauge if she was looking up more than she had looked up last year.

“What? Oh — yeah, I did. Gran sent out for a whole new wardrobe.” He wrinkled his nose. “It was only like, an inch I think, but she insisted. I think it was her way of apologising that Mum and Dad were gone most of the summer.”

Luna tilted her head. “I suppose they work quite a lot.”

Neville laughed. “I haven’t seen much of them since… well, I guess since Voldemort came back. I mean, a meal here and there, but usually only one at a time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not bad.” He adjusted his bag. “Their work’s important. And I’ve always had Gran around.”

Luna looked down at her hands. There was dirt under her nails, and she supposed she ought to clean up before lunch, but she liked when her hands were dirty. It reminded her of her mother, who had always smelled like earth and soot. It also reminded her of her father, whose fingers were often stained with ink.

“But you miss them.”

It wasn’t a question. Luna didn’t ask questions she already knew the answers to. There were plenty of other questions to be concerned with.

“What do you think we should call Harry?�� she asked. “And I suppose we’ll need names for Ron and Hermione as well. Should we all have secret names? Like cats, perhaps? I should like to be Turnip.”

When she and Neville reached the castle, Ginny was waiting impatiently at the door.

“You both walk slow,” she complained, and stormed inside.

“My,” Luna said, “it must have been quite a bad fight with Parsnip.”

Neville frowned. “No, I don’t like that one.”

“Butterscotch?”

“Hmm…”

“Pickled Herring?”

“Must it be food?”

“I like Pickled Herring, because it sounds like him, but backwards.”

“I suppose.”

Luna waved goodbye to Neville and joined the Ravenclaw table. She sat next to a girl named Kim Sheringham, who Luna did not consider a friend, exactly, but they had lived together for the better part of six years, which might count for something to other people. It just didn’t count very much to Luna.

“Hi, Luna,” said Kim.

“Hello,” Luna said, but remained focused on her lunch

“How was Herbology?”

Luna hummed. “Warm. Pleasant.” She reached for the pitcher and poured herself a glass of water.

“Sounds nice. Listen, do you think you could do me a favour?”

Luna stared at Kim and took a sip from her cup. She waited for Kim to ask for what she really wanted.

Kim faltered, but she’d always been more keen on small talk than Luna. Finally, she said, “Could you tell Flitwick I’m not well? I need to review for the Muggle Studies exam tonight. Please, I just can’t keep all the Sacred Twenty-Eight straight. Just tell Flitwick I fell ill after lunch or something. Any excuse will do.”

Ravenclaws, as a rule, did not skip lessons — unless they had an exam to prepare for.

“I could review with you,” Luna offered, and pretended not to notice the way Kim’s brow furrowed.

“That’s alright, thanks. Just tell him I’m not well. He’ll believe whatever you say, you know.”

Now it was Luna’s turn to frown. She didn’t understand what Kim meant, but she didn’t get to ask because Kim was already leaving.

Luna finished her meal alone, still puzzling over Kim’s comment, and wandered to Charms by herself. She apologised to Flitwick for Kim’s absence, and promised to take notes for two. Flitwick readily accepted her vague excuse, and this only puzzled Luna more. How had Kim known that Flitwick would not press her?

She was distracted throughout class, but her notes were no less for it. She was not sure that they would help Kim — no one ever asked to borrow Luna’s colourful, pictographic notes — but Luna would not mind explaining them.

After Charms, Luna had a free period, while the Gryffindors took their Charms lesson. She passed Ginny and Neville outside Flitwick’s classroom door and smiled. Ginny grinned back, which worried Luna. It was not the sort of grin that suggested Ginny was truly in a better mood; it was Ginny’s mischievous grin.

Luna waited until she was in the library to check the Galleon in her pocket. She had not noticed it grow warm during her Charms lesson, but it must have, for there was a new date and time inscribed where the identification number would be. Tonight, an hour before Muggle Studies.

Whatever Ginny had planned would get them all into trouble, certainly, but Luna at least knew that it would be fun, and fun was in such short supply these days.

There was plenty of time between now and then, so Luna set about working on their personalised field guides for Herbology. She had started adding to it, not just for Herbology, but also for Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was sweet, but Luna did not find him an adept professor. She could appreciate the practicality of his lessons, at least, but had started recording what she learned from their field experiments into her Herbology project. She enjoyed this sort of work, collecting information and organising it. And decorating it.

Professor Flitwick had suggested a career studying magical plants and animals, doing field work, exploring, traveling and notetaking, making discoveries. Luna liked the idea of it, but the way he had presented it sounded tedious. He had mentioned the Ministry and paperwork, almost as if he had been trying to put her off from the job. He had even suggested that she spend her summer reaching out to people at the Ministry to try some job-shadowing, but Luna had a hard time finding people in the Ministry that were not involved with either the Death Eaters, the Rotfang Conspiracy, or the Heliopath Army.

Was it not enough to simply wander?

Luna had never been good at purpose. It was one of the many things she had always admired about Ginny. Ginny had always known who she was and what she wanted. Luna, for all her appearances of self-assurance, wondered and doubted far more than anyone knew.

Luna finished her note about Fire Crabs in preparation for tomorrow’s lesson and waited for the ink to dry. She swung her legs back and forth and stared out of the large window. Neither of her parents had ever made a living on the things they were passionate about. They did things that were uninteresting to fund their curiosities. She wondered if she would end up doing the same.

With a sigh, Luna closed her field guide and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. Again, she ate alone, but she watched Ginny talk with one of the girls from her dorm. Ginny’s smile was wide but empty, and she tapped her fork anxiously against her plate.

Neville sat alone, picking at his food, and Seamus and Lavender sat together, but they had more interest in the professors’ table than in each other.

Luna shook her head. Gryffindors were always so obvious. If the Carrows were even a little bit smarter, they might have known to be suspicious.

Neville left dinner first, and after an exact count of thirty, Ginny followed. The rest of the D.A. made their way out of the Great Hall in staggered exits. Some relied on a count of their own choosing. Some relied on waiting until a certain number of people had exited before they made their way to the seventh floor.

If Umbridge had taught them anything, it was how to avoid getting caught.

Luna waited until Michael Corner loudly announced that he was going to check on Padma, and trailed after him at her usual aimless pace. When he headed for the hospital wing, Luna went all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower, but instead of climbing the stairs, she slipped down another corridor to the Room of Requirement.

The Room no longer looked as it had for D.A. meetings. In fact, Luna thought it looked rather like a proper classroom. There were even stacks of reference books on some of the desks.

“I thought if anyone did walk in on us, it would look like we were studying,” Neville said, when he saw Luna’s curious glance.

She hummed thoughtfully. “You should ask it not to let anyone walk in on us.”

Neville looked surprised, then frowned and sank into one of the desks. He drummed his fingers thoughtfully.

Luna always appreciated the way Neville took her ideas seriously, rather than laughed at them, or dismissed them instantly, the way so many of her peers and professors did.

Padma and Parvati returned from the hospital wing with Michael, and a small crowd surrounded them, asking if they were alright. Hannah and Susan were notable outliers, clustered by themselves and whispering quietly. Ginny, too, stood alone, trying to count heads, and another girl in a green headscarf, someone Luna had not spoken to since those early days of the D.A., sat by herself.

Luna slipped into the desk beside Atalanta Shafiq. She smiled pleasantly.

“Hello. It’s Atalanta, isn’t it?”

The girl stared at her with large brown eyes. Luna thought she was in fourth year, the same Dennis Creevey would have been in.

“You’re Luna.”

Luna’s smile widened. “How did you know?”

“Everyone knows you. You’re one of the people who went to the Ministry with Potter two summers ago.”

“Oh, you mean Pickled Herring.”

Atalanta stared at Luna as if she had lost her mind, a look Luna was used to, though she hadn’t seen it in a while. She hadn’t spent much time with new people recently.

“You’re friends with Hugh, aren’t you?” Luna asked her.

Atalanta nodded. “I know you visit him. How is he?”

“Oh — he’s well. Don’t you see him yourself?”

The girl turned to stare straight ahead. Her face was hard and her voice tight. “He asked me to stop coming. As if everyone doesn’t already know we’re friends — as if he has anyone else to bring him notes —” She broke off abruptly and her nostrils flared. “Everyone knows we were friends with the Creeveys anyway. My lineage doesn’t protect me as much as he thinks it does.”

“It sounds like he cares about you.” Luna hummed. “But you seem like someone who can take care of yourself. It’s okay for both of those things to be true, you know.”

Atalanta did not say anything. Luna appreciated the way the girl considered her words. It was like watching someone put together a puzzle, and Luna loved puzzles.

The door opened and closed one last time for Pearl Lais and Ginny announced, “I think that’s everyone. Let’s get started.”

All conversations ceased as she spoke. Ginny commanded a room with more ease than Harry had. Luna could not help but smile dreamily.

“So as you all know, tonight we have an exam for Muggle Studies.”

“I won’t take it,” Zacharias Smith announced loudly.

“And we fully plan to resume our protest,” Parvati added, voice defiant. Padma looked less confident, but she nodded when Parvati looked at her.

“Standing outside the Muggle Studies classroom is great,” Neville said, “but if we could do something more coordinated and subversive, we might be able to get more students on our side, and you wouldn’t have to go to detention.”

Padma raised an eyebrow. “You have something planned that won’t get us in trouble?”

“As long as we don’t get caught,” Ginny grinned. “I heard Snape threatened to take your Prefect badge. Your protest has been great, but it’s not worth that. We need people like you in charge as much as possible. Let me show you what we have in mind. It’s so easy, even Neville could do it.”

Neville did not look upset by the remark in the least, and pulled a stack of loose parchment from the desk at the front of the classroom. He began passing it out.

“It’s partly a Muggle-trick,” he said, “so it’s perfect for Muggle Studies.”

“There’s a bit of Charm, of course,” Ginny said, “to make it more interesting.”

Ginny and Neville explained the procedure of the prank to the members of Dumbledore’s Army. Everyone had several sheets to practice with, but Luna took to it right away. She found it a rather endearing bit of spellwork, but she knew that Alecto Carrow would hate it. Still, it was a harmless and funny prank. Even if they did get caught, the punishment couldn’t be too severe.

As Luna finished folding her third sheet of parchment, just for something to do with her hands, Ginny slid into the desk next to her.

“Hey,” she said, “I have a special job for you.”

Luna looked up from her parchment as Ginny pressed a small bottle into her hands.

“Neville got that from Herbology today. Can you smear it into Carrow’s book before the exam?”

Luna held up the colourless vial. “Should I wear dragonhide gloves?”

“No, it has to be ingested. Just the corners of the pages will do.”

“How will I get the book?”

“Just ask her for it. Say you need to check your notes or something. She’ll believe whatever you tell her.”

Luna stared into Ginny’s deep brown eyes. “Why?”

“You have an honest face. If I ask, she’ll know something’s up.”

Luna wasn’t sure what it meant that she had an, “honest face,” but it was the nicest compliment Ginny had given her all year, so she took it and pressed it into her memory like she pressed flowers into her field guide.

“I should go now, then,” she said. “So I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about getting caught,” Ginny said. “I’ve got something else planned and she’ll probably single me out for the whole thing.”

Luna didn’t mean to smile, but she did. “I would be honoured to have detention with you,” and she punctuated her statement with a curtsy. Ginny laughed, and it made whatever punishments Luna might receive for smearing poison into Alecto Carrow’s book worth it.

As Ginny had predicted, Professor Carrow did not suspect anything was amiss when Luna arrived at her office early and asked to check her notes against the enormous tome that she read out of during their lessons. She muttered something about Ravenclaws and perfectionism, then left Luna at a desk with her notes and the book.

Carefully, Luna dabbed some of the poison onto her finger and smeared it onto the upper right corners of each page. She pretended to skim some of the pages, and even made a few marks into her own notes to sell the lie, but she wondered if she even needed to. Professor Carrow hardly paid her any mind.

When she had finished, she thanked Professor Carrow, and waited until she was alone in the hallway to wipe her hands clean.

All students were required to take Muggle Studies, and the curriculum was entirely new, so everyone, from first year to seventh, took it together in the Great Hall three evenings a week. Luna found it slightly more entertaining than History of Magic, because while Professor Carrow could drone on much like Professor Binns, Carrow at least took questions, and Luna loved when her friends asked questions.

In their very first class, Neville had challenged every line of Professor Carrow’s reading. She had snappishly asked for his lineage not twenty minutes into class. With a wide grin, Neville had said, “Longbottom and Fawley.”

The other day, Ginny had asked Professor Carrow why they weren’t going to evaluate the Carrow family tree the way they had the Bones family. Professor Carrow had turned red and Luna had expected her to hex Ginny then and there.

Luna had not asked any questions yet, though she had, at one point, raised her hand to point out that it was unfair to accuse Muggles of being liars and cheats when Thicknesse was a continuation of Scrimgeour’s evil plot to bring down the Ministry through the horrors of gum disease. The other students had laughed, and Professor Carrow had given her a condescending smile.

“How could the Ministry allow such plots to happen right under their nose?” Professor Carrow had asked with a sickly smile.

“Same way they allowed Death Eaters to infiltrate and Voldemort to take over,” Neville had said loudly, and he’d gotten a week of detention.

The dining tables were removed from the Great Hall each night of Muggle Studies and were replaced with rows of desks. Students sat by year and by house, so Luna took a seat near the back of one of the Ravenclaw aisles. She thought it was a good thing that the D.A. was largely composed of upper-years. Professor Carrow would be less likely to notice them folding up their exams.

The Great Hall was quiet as students worked on their exams. Quills scratched against parchment and occasionally Luna heard the sound of a page turning as Professor Carrow licked her finger and turned the page of her heavy tome.

As she folded up her exam just like they had practiced in the Room of Requirement, Luna watched Professor Carrow closely. The woman coughed after five pages and reached for her tea. After ten pages, she rubbed her throat and finished her drink. By the fifteenth page, her cheeks were already flushed purple and she looked uncomfortable.

“Professor!” Ginny shouted. She didn’t need to shout, since the hall was as silent as O.W.L.s had been, but as her voice echoed, every head turned to her.

She had her hand stretched as high as she could and she bounced anxiously. “Professor!”

Professor Carrow stood from her desk and frowned down at Ginny. “This is an exam, girl. Be quiet.”

“It’s an emergency, Professor. Can I go? I’ll only be a minute.”

Professor Carrow’s mouth lifted in a sneer. “No.”

“Please, Professor? I mean, I’ll use my exam if I have to, but —”

Laughter rippled across the hall and Ginny grinned.

“Make it quick!” Carrow snapped at her, and Ginny sprinted from the hall.

She really was gone only a minute — both Luna and Professor Carrow counted — and Luna wondered what she possibly could have accomplished during that time.

Ginny maintained an appearance of studiousness as she returned to her exam, and Professor Carrow returned to her book. She rubbed her throat again and looked at her empty tea cup. She snapped her fingers impatiently. A house-elf appeared with a pop and poured her a fresh cup, then vanished just as quickly.

Luna forgot all about the clusters of parchment that decorated her desk. Her focus was wholly on Professor Carrow as the woman inspected the cup of tea. She sniffed it, tapped her wand against it, took a small sip, and seemed satisfied. She finished the cup and went back to her book.

Luna kept watching, and it was another seven pages before Professor Carrow licked her finger and paused. She looked at her hand, at the book, and then directly at Luna. Luna tried to shrink into her seat.

Carrow got to her feet and started down the aisle of Ravenclaw desks with a look of fury that might have cowed a dragon. Luna, however, was spared immediate consequences by a squeak that began on the Gryffindor side of the room, followed closely by a squeak from the Hufflepuff aisle.

Hastily, Luna Animated the collection of parchment mice that she had so carefully constructed during the exam. They joined the chorus of mice that now filled the hall, leaping off of desks and scampering towards Professor Carrow.

Luna didn’t think Professor Carrow was a woman who feared mice, but it at least startled her, and it certainly upset several of the other students, who screamed as the parchment creations scurried over their feet and onto their desks. Students leapt up onto chairs and desks, and the entire hall descended into chaos.

It was impossible to tell, as Ginny and Neville had probably planned, where the mice had come from. Carrow pointed her wand at the ones nearest to her, and they went up in flames, but they were quickly replaced with more. Some tried to climb her skirt while others scampered across the room, nibbling on exams and tearing every piece of parchment to shreds.

“Everyone out!” Carrow snapped, crushing one of the mice under her heel. “Orderly!” she added as a few of the more skittish students bolted for the door.

But even those that ran reached a wall of students who had, for some reason, stalled in the doorway of the Great Hall.

“What now?” Carrow elbowed her way to the front, and Luna stood on her tiptoes to peer over Draco Malfoy’s shoulder. She saw a message painted on the floor of the entrance hall in bright red, impossible to miss.

DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY: NOW RECRUITING

Professor Carrow tried to vanish the mess, but it sparked with fireworks and she leapt backwards. A pair of first years stared in awe. A few upper years laughed.

“Weasley!” Carrow snapped, and a few of the older students waited for the inevitable joke of, “Which one?” before realising that Ginny was the only Weasley left at Hogwarts.

Ginny leaned against the pillar that framed the door into the Great Hall. She smiled at Carrow. “Yes, Professor?”

Professor Carrow lifted her wand. “You’ll get more than detention, brat —”

“Say, Professor,” Ginny said, “you’ve got a little something on your —” Ginny gestured to her face, then paused and gestured to Carrow’s hands, “well — everywhere.”

Professor Carrow looked down at her hands, now bright purple.

“That looks like Venomous Tentacula poison,” said Neville. “You ought to be careful around the greenhouses, Professor.”

Carrow whipped around and aimed her wand at Neville, then searched the crowd for Luna. “You,” she snapped.

Luna raised her eyebrows.

“What’s your name?”

“Lovegood,” Luna said, before it had even occurred to her to lie.

Carrow ran her tongue across her teeth. “Lovegood? Your father runs The Quibbler?”

“Er — yes, Professor.”

“You and Weasley, to the Headmaster Snape’s office immediately.”

Luna started for the stairs, but Ginny folded her arms over her chest and refused to move.

“Weasley!”

“Snape isn’t Headmaster.”

“I’ve had just about enough of you. Pureblooded or not —”

“Last week you called me a blood traitor, but this week you’re suddenly all concerned with —”

“Imperio.”

Luna watched, horrified, as Ginny’s posture relaxed and her dark eyes widened.

“Stop!” Luna cried, which, futile as it was, at least provided cover as Neville drew his wand.

“Stupefy!” Neville shouted, and Professor Carrow fell backwards, sprawled over Ginny’s message on the floor.

A few of the students cheered and footsteps thundered down the stairs.

Amycus Carrow and Argus Filch shoved their way through the crowd of students. They took in the mess of paint on the floor, the unconscious and purple professor, and Neville with his wand drawn.

“What did you do, you filthy brat!” Amycus snarled.

“She was only Stunned,” Seamus Finnigan shouted. “Seemed fair since she was using a bloody Unforgivable!”

“Another week of detention then?” Neville asked, with more bravery than Luna thought anyone should have, considering how many detentions had landed students in the infirmary.

“No, I think your punishment should be a bit more public and swift —”

“Professor?” Malfoy interrupted. He grabbed Luna’s arm and pulled her forward. His Head Boy badge glinted in the candlelight. “Professor Carrow was just about to take Lovegood and Weasley up to the Headmaster’s office. Shall I help you escort them?”

Amycus Carrow did not do well with being interrupted. It was a challenge for him to hold so many thoughts in his head at once.

“Lovegood and Weasley?”

“Yes, sir. They’re responsible for this mess, too. Pansy can help Professor Carrow, here, and I’ll help you get this lot to Professor Snape.”

Luna did not fight Malfoy’s tight grip on her arm as he took her to Snape’s office, not the way Ginny pushed and pulled on Amycus as he dragged her up the stairs. Neville, too, was more docile in Filch’s grip, and he eyed Malfoy suspiciously.

Carrow announced the password, “Asphodel,” and the gargoyle that guarded the stairs to the Headmaster’s office parted with ease.

Luna was so rarely angry. Anger was a concept, something she witnessed in others, and maybe glimpsed in herself the way she could glimpse the edge of the Black Lake on a clear day. She did not feel true anger very often, but as she was pulled up to the Headmaster’s office, it rose in her chest with each step.

It was horribly unfair of Hogwarts, who had denied Umbridge access to the Headmaster’s office, to allow Snape control over it, when Snape was the very one who had killed Dumbledore.

Luna tried to swallow down her anger, but it refused to budge. She hated Hogwarts.

Carrow pounded his fist on the heavy oak door at the top of the stairs and pushed it open.

The Headmaster’s office was different from what Luna remembered. She’d only seen it once before, but she had adored it. There had been so many trinkets bobbing and whizzing about; it had been full of noise and life. It had reminded her of her mother’s office.

Now, however, it was cold and empty, with nothing but a Pensieve in a corner and a desk stacked with parchment. Fawkes’ perch remained, but was empty, and behind the Headmaster’s desk were the frames of all the previous Headmasters, including Dumbledore, fast asleep. She looked away, and settled on Snape’s face. As much as she disliked Snape, looking at him hurt less than looking at Dumbledore’s portrait.

Snape, seated at the Headmaster’s desk, kept his eyes on what looked to Luna like a letter.

“No, please, come right in,” he drawled. “I’m not busy or anything.”

“These students cursed Alecto,” Amycus said. “Stunned her right in the entrance hall.”

“They had nothing to do with it!” Neville snapped. “I Stunned her because she used an Unforgivable on Ginny! It was just me!”

With an eerie amount of care, Snape set the letter aside and finally looked at the group that had invaded his office. His face had no more displeasure than it usually did as he looked at each of them.

“Then give Longbottom a detention,” he finally said to Carrow. “Five feet of lines reading, ‘I will not hex my professors’ ought to do it.”

Luna could not tell if Snape was serious. Amycus appeared to be having the same problem. His jaw worked fruitlessly before he finally sputtered, “That’s it?”

Snape stood. “What would you like me to do? Expel him and send him back to his Dumbledore-fanatic parents? You’re in charge of discipline, Carrow. So discipline them. Can’t you control a few children?” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a cloak. “I have business off of the grounds tonight. I expect that this will be dealt with by the time I return.”

Snape held the door open for them, and Carrow reluctantly led them back down to the corridor. Snape swept past them, dark cloak billowing the way it had as he had paced the aisles during his Potions lessons, and disappeared down the stairs.

Carrow watched him go, a hard look on his face. “Are the dungeons ready, Filch?”

“Oiled the hinges this morning, sir,” Filch said. “Haven’t put the chains back in yet —”

“It’ll do for now.”

Ginny’s thrashing did not hinder Carrow in the slightest as he, Filch, and Malfoy took the three of them downstairs into the dungeons. Their wands were set on a nearby shelf, tauntingly visible but well out of reach, and then the three were left alone until Carrow could come up with something more creative.

“Did you see it?” Neville’s voice was steady, and he leaned almost comfortably against the stone wall.

The iron-wrought bars rattled as Ginny kicked them, but they did not budge. “Of course I saw it. We ought to go for it now, while Snape’s gone.”

Luna eyed a trickle of water that slid from the ceiling and into a small puddle on the floor. She wondered if it came from the Black Lake or a leaky pipe. “What did you notice?” she asked.

“The Sword of Godric Gryffindor,” Ginny said. “Didn’t you see it hanging under Dumbledore’s portrait?”

“Oh. Is it important?”

“Dumbledore left it to Harry,” Neville said. “He needs it. I don’t know how we could get it to him, though.”

“I can talk to him,” Ginny said. “If we could just get out of here —” She kicked again, but the bars did not budge under her assault.

“We aren’t getting out of here.” Neville retrieved a worn piece of parchment and a golden feather from his pocket. He searched for a dry spot on the floor and unfolded the old parchment. “But we can make a plan. Halloween would be good, when everyone’s at the feast.”

Ginny gave the bars one more kick for good measure, then joined Neville on the floor.

Neville pressed the tip of the feather to the parchment like a quill and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

Ginny was forced to scrub the entrance hall clean until there was no trace of her graffiti, and students could see their reflection in the polished floor. It took her the better part of three full weeks and her hands were blistered and cracked when she was finished.

Luna spent every night reading out loud from Alecto Carrow’s horrible book, and if she faltered or hesitated in any way, she earned a welt and had to start over. It went on for two weeks.

Neville was left in the dungeons for a week, and did not appear for lessons nor meals. He said nothing about what happened to him, but he flinched when Seamus clapped him on the shoulder at his first meal back.

It wasn’t even an hour later that Susan approached Neville and asked what the revenge plan was. Neville told her to keep her head down until the Halloween feast.

To an outsider, it might have appeared that the Carrows had won. Muggle Studies lessons passed without incident. There were small protests in Dark Arts, but nothing more dramatic than civil disobedience. It was quiet at Hogwarts, until Halloween.

They started small. Seamus and Parvati slipped some of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes Exploding Whizz-Bangs into the eggs at breakfast with a Switching Spell. After the chaos of breakfast, Alecto Carrow promised to hold the entire school for an extra hour of Muggle Studies that evening if no one confessed or gave up the perpetrator.

No one said a word.

Lavender took the leaflets from the Daily Prophet with Harry’s face and the bounty and modified them. Instead of “Undesirable No 1” the leaflet read, “Desirable Chosen 1” which was enough of a change to get their point across. She lamented that Dean could have done better, but the rest of the D.A. praised her work.

The leaflets were blown up to twice their size and pasted into windows all across the castle, with the help of everyone in the D.A. Every common room, from Gryffindor to Slytherin, was plastered with Harry’s face.

By lunch, the Carrows were scorching walls left and right, and Atalanta Shafiq told everyone that the Carrows had accidentally blasted a hole through the Slytherin Common room right into the Black Lake and flooded the dormitories.

Neville’s job was an unfortunate one, but he took it with grace. He waited until lunch was nearly over, then shouted at Crabbe and asked, “I know you said you’re a pureblood, but isn’t there a bit of troll in your tree? Was it on your mother or father’s side?”

Crabbe threw a hex that sent Neville flying five feet backwards and when he got up, he was puking up something slimy. Hannah escorted him to the hospital wing.

Ginny’s role for the day revolved around being as suspicious as possible without getting into real trouble. She ducked through hidden corridors. She paused to fiddle with her bag or her shoes. Luna stayed close with her for most of it, until after Transfiguration, they ducked out of Amycus’ careful watch by slipping into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Demelza was waiting for them. “Ready?” she asked.

Ginny nodded and plucked out a strand of her hair.

Luna left the bathroom with Demelza, but Amycus Carrow saw exactly what he expected to see: Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley heading down to the Halloween feast.

Luna watched Demelza sit next to Helen Donoghue and engage Helen as easily as if she really were Ginny. Amycus stood at the door, eyes intent on Ginny. Luna could not help but smile, despite her trepidation at her own task.

She ate slowly, unsure how full her stomach ought to be. She looked at the professors and bit her tongue when she noticed that Snape was missing. Their plan hinged on Snape being out of his office.

Well, it was too late for them to change course now. Neville was waiting for her in the hospital wing, and Ginny was probably already hiding out by the Headmaster’s office.

Luna took a deep breath, pulled the bright yellow half of a Fainting Fancy from her pocket, and swallowed.

She woke with a headache in a corridor not far from the hospital wing with Neville and Michael Corner leaning over her. She licked her lips and tried to swallow down the spiced pepper flavour that seemed stuck to her tongue. She decided that she didn’t care for the second half of those Fainting Fancies.

“Are you alright?” Michael asked her.

Luna sat up and rubbed her throbbing head. “I fell,” she said.

“I tried to catch you. You should have warned me when you were going to do it.”

“It’s alright,” Neville said.

Luna gagged. His breath smelled like Porlock dung.

“You’d better get back to the feast,” Neville told Michael. “The less time you’re with us, the better it’ll look for you.”

“Are you alright?” Luna asked Neville as Michael hurried back to the Great Hall.

Neville grimaced. “I was hoping for boils. Madam Pomfrey says I’ll be tasting acid for a week, but she was at least able to stop the puking, so we can go ahead with the plan. Everything seems to be going well so far.”

“Oh… there is one thing…”

Luna told him that she had not seen Snape at the feast. Neville checked the map while they walked.

“I don’t see him at all,” Neville frowned. He ran his finger across the Marauder’s Map. “Oh — he’s just arrived at the gates. What do you think he left for?”

“Perhaps he’s joined a league of vampires. Halloween is a special holiday for them.”

“Then I guess we’d better hurry up before he finds us and drinks our blood.” Neville squinted at the map. “You catch up with Ginny. I have an idea. Peeves is just around the corner and if he can stall…”

Neville was still talking as he disappeared behind a tapestry of Mordicus Egg cooking over an open fire. Luna paused to watch the heavy tapestry resettle in Neville’s wake. The threads of the flames seemed alive as they rippled back and forth, until finally the tapestry stilled.

She skipped on ahead to the gargoyle at the end of the corridor. She spun around once in a circle, and did not see Ginny. So she spun again, and this time Ginny stepped out from behind a suit of armor.

“How’s Demelza doing?” Ginny asked.

“She’s very good at being you,” Luna said, then said, “Asphodel,” to the statue. It stepped aside easily and Luna hummed. “I really thought he would have changed it.”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t. Where’s Neville?”

“He said to go on without him.”

Ginny was already halfway up the stairs. “Alohomora,” she said, and the lock on the office door clicked open. She shoved the heavy door with her shoulder.

Ginny ran in for the sword, and Luna listened at the door. While she listened, her eyes roved over the portraits. Their oily eyes were fixed on Ginny as she lifted the Sword of Godric Gryffindor from its display.

“Breaking and entering!” one portrait shouted. “In the Headmaster’s office!”

“Put that sword back, child,” Dilys Derwent said in a kinder voice. “I’m sure you mean well, but —”

“Thievery!” Phineas Nigellus Black shrieked at her. “Unheard of! In my time —”

“Treachery!” one woman with a thick wand shouted.

“You’re the traitors!” Ginny shouted back at them. “Letting Snape in here — helping him — and after what he did to Dumbledore!”

She broke off and stared at Dumbledore’s portrait. It’s gold frame glistened, and the impression of Dumbledore stared back at her, as still and as unmoving as any Muggle portrait.

Luna abandoned her post at the door and came to Ginny’s side. She stared at Dumbledore’s portrait and felt her heart grow heavy, the way it did each time she passed her mother’s office in the basement of their family home.

“Ginny,” she whispered, “we should go. You can’t argue with what’s been done.”

“It isn’t fair.” Ginny turned her fierce glare on all the portraits, then back onto Dumbledore’s still portrait. “You know what the sword is for, what it can do. Tell them.”

The portrait did not so much as blink at her.

“Ginny.” Luna tugged on her arm.

Ginny’s lower lip trembled, and she turned away from Dumbledore’s portrait. Luna pulled her towards the door, but froze on the first step.

Ginny heard it too — footsteps coming up for them.

They backed into the office, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run as Snape and the Carrows burst into the office. Ginny brandished the sword as she might a wand for a duel. Luna did not have time to reach for her wand as Amycus Carrow thrust Neville at her. He fell into her and she staggered under his weight.

“You two,” Alecto Carrow sneered, “are supposed to be in the hospital wing.”

“Oh, but I feel much better,” Luna said. Neville only groaned.

“How’d you find us?” Ginny snapped.

“Hogwarts is a castle filled with portraits, Miss Weasley. I think you can figure out the rest.” Snape waved his wand and Ginny jumped as if the sword had burned her. It clattered to the ground and she clutched her hand to her chest.

“I thought,” Snape drawled, “I asked you two to control these children.”

“We did —” Amycus protested. “We have — she was just in the Hall, I swear.”

“I think a detention in the Forbidden Forest ought to teach them a lesson or two. Every night for the next week. From sundown to midnight.”

Luna tipped her head to one side. “But —”

Ginny squeezed her wrist and she stopped talking.

But that meant they would be with Hagrid instead of at Muggle Studies lessons. She wondered if Snape just didn’t realise when Muggle Studies lessons were. Did he think they were during normal lesson hours?

“And what if they try it again?” the Carrows asked.

Snape removed his cloak and pulled out a smudged piece of parchment from his pocket. “I expect you’ll prevent them from trying again.” He glanced at the sword on the floor. “I’ll have it removed from Hogwarts, then this will no longer be a problem.”

As he tucked the parchment into a book on his desk, Luna was certain that the smudge of ink was actually a small black pawprint. She supposed if Snape was a vampire, he must have a familiar by now.

Snape took a seat at his desk and surveyed the small crowd in his office. “Well? Is there a reason you’re all still here?”

The Carrows shoved Ginny towards the door, and Luna helped Neville limp down the stairs.

“Yes, I know,” she heard Snape say as the door closed. “I can have a duplicate ready in days.”

And as the latch on the door clicked, Luna thought that she heard the familiar rumble of Dumbledore’s voice.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

It was midnight, but no one was keen on heading back to the castle just yet. Ginny sat down in the grass and leaned against one of the trees on the edge of the forest, still in view of Hagrid’s hut, but away from where Neville was helping Hagrid pick Moondew for Madam Rosmerta’s Butterbeer.

Luna crouched down beside her.

“Do you think the Carrows will come and collect us?” Ginny asked. “Or could we stay out here all night?”

Luna ran her hand over the trunk of the tree. She loved the transition from the soft moss to the rough bark and back again.

“It’s just so empty in the common room,” Ginny said. “Is it like that in Ravenclaw?”

Luna crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. She thought for a moment. “A bit. Terry Boot never came back. Mandy checks for his name in the paper every day. Anthony Goldstein wasn’t a Muggle-born, but his family left for Canada after Dumbledore’s funeral, and they don’t plan to come back any time soon.” She plucked a small dandelion flower from the grass by her knee. “I expect it’s worst in Hufflepuff.”

Ginny folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars over Hagrid’s hut. “I miss him, Luna. I miss him so much, but when we talk it’s like he isn’t there. And I — I know you probably don’t want to hear it — I’m sorry — but I don’t know that I have anyone else —”

Luna reached for another dandelion and folded the stems into the beginning of a flower chain. “I will never take half of you,” Luna said, “and I don’t believe that you are one to give halves.”

Ginny’s laugh was sad. It made Luna’s chest ache. She leaned against Ginny and continued working on her flower chain.

They sat in silence, until nearly two, when Hagrid insisted they return to their bunks.

“I’ll walk yeh ter the castle,” he said, “but don’ let Filch catch you on your way up.”

Neville waved the map. “We’ll be alright. As long as any portraits don’t get involved.”

Luna tied off the flower chain into a crown and stood. She spun in a circle and dropped the circlet on Ginny’s head. “Up we go,” she said, holding her hand out to Ginny.

Ginny took it. “Thanks, Luna.”

Luna smiled. She pulled Ginny along and hurried to catch up with Neville. She took his hand as well.

Luna hated Hogwarts, and she had no desire to go back behind those high stone walls, but at least she did not have to go alone. At least she could go with friends.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Teen Tracys

Muse is on a roll today, it seems (and I even managed to get some uni work done!).  From a conversation with @janetm74 that started over a discussion about punk!teen Virgil with a green mohawk and Eco-Warrior!teen Gordon and snowballed into, well, something a bit like this.

Random, has not been particularly polished, and I threw in a time skip rather than deal with the serious conversation.  Might write that later.

For ages, we’ve got Scott at 21, John’s 19, Virgil’s 17, Gordon’s 13 and Alan’s 9.  Three teenagers in the house; uh oh.

Scott loved his brothers. Really, he did.  But sometimes, they were just too much.  Big brother just didn’t hold the same weight as parent, no matter that he’d helped to raise all of them, and every so often his little brothers remembered that.

“Gordon, no.”

The thirteen-year-old, decked out in nothing but recycled greens, glared up at him with all the self-proclaimed righteousness a teenager could summon.  It was a lot.

“Do you know how much pollution is still being pumped into the oceans?” he demanded, not at all cowed by the fact he barely reached Scott’s chest.  “They finally stopped all the fossil fuel in the 2020s, and plastic was entirely phased out by 2030, and then the world gave itself a nice pat on the back as though that fixed everything!”

Scott had heard this tirade before.  Many, many, times before.

“Yes, Gordon, I know. Preservation of the oceans is important and that’s why this family – and Tracy Industries – does its bit to make sure nothing goes in there that shouldn’t, and is why you take part in charity events to continue to spread awareness.  I know.”  He didn’t have a problem with any of that, either.  No, what he had a problem with were the rallies.

Charity work?  Fine.  More than fine.

The rallies?  Not for an unaccompanied thirteen-year-old boy, and Scott knew they often involved illegally sabotaging places that still produced pollution.  No matter how well-meaning Gordon was, it was Scott’s duty as big brother and guardian not to let him get tangled up in that.

“Clearly you don’t know if you think that’s enough!” Gordon retorted, and Scott sighed.

“Gordon, I know more needs to be done, but it needs to be done legally, and not result in you getting thrown in a lockup, okay?  You’ve got that charity dinner with Lady Penelope next weekend, remember?”

“I can do both!” Gordon protested.  “Scott, I have to go!  It’s important for the planet!”

“Well it’s important to me that you don’t end up-”

Bright green in his periphery killed the rest of the sentence as he turned his head to see his normally sensible, reliable brother looking anything but.

“Virgil, you are not going out looking like that.”

“I can go out looking however I want, Scott.”  Seventeen years old and the teenage attitude Gordon was showing seemed to have infected his next oldest brother at last.  Virgil had been such a quiet, low-effort teenager – even more so than John, whose rebellion had been entirely digital and Scott was quite frankly afraid of what he might have done – until now.

Now, the punk phase had hit, and apparently the colour of the day was green.  Vibrant, radioactive touch-me-and-die green.  In a mohawk.

Scott tried to be the supportive big brother, he really did, but there were lines and the all-leather ensemble complete with mohawk and numerous piercings were pushing it.  Worst of all was the noise-maker he called a trike that he’d gone and bought last week despite being explicitly told not to. That had crossed the line.  There had been much shouting.  Virgil refused to return it, and spent more time in the garage tinkering with it than with his family now.

Gordon considered it an affront, and Scott wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t going to be a target for the so-called rally if Gordon managed to join it.

“Virgil, please.”

“I want green hair!”

They’d caught Alan’s attention.  Great.

“No, Alan.  You are not dyeing your hair green.”

Realising both green-themed brothers – if for two very different reasons – were both trying to slip out while Alan played distraction, Scott backed up to the front door and blocked it with his body.

“Virgil did!”

“And if his hair dye ends up in your hair, his entire new ensemble is heading straight for the recycler,” Scott growled.  Three little brothers, all at once.  It was enough to give him a headache.  Gordon shifted, a shift that meant trouble, and he remembered the current household feud. “Gordon, if Virgil’s hair dye ends up in Alan’s hair, no more charity events until you’re eighteen.”

“But Scott!”

He didn’t even care which of the three said it.  It could have been all of them.  Why couldn’t they go through teenage rebellion from the sanctity of their bedrooms, like John did?

“I wouldn’t say green’s your colour anyway, Allie.”  As though summoned by Scott’s thoughts, the fourth little brother materialised.  Finally, some sanity- “how about we try black, or a dark blue, to match space?  Maybe Virgil can help make it a galaxy?”

“John!”

Betrayal.  Betrayal of the highest order, but Scott refused to get dramatic about it because he had three drama queens in the house already and that would only encourage them.  Even if the smirk John sent his way made him want to throw something.  Or scream.

Or both.

With four brothers ganging up on him – two because they’d hit the rebellion phase, one because his brothers were, and one just because he could – Scott knew he wasn’t going to win this with his sanity intact.

“Alan, no, you are not dyeing your hair any colour.  Gordon, you are not going to that rally.  Virgil, you are not going out like that.  John, if you’re not going to be helpful, scat.”

“But Scott!”

That was all four of them. In chorus.  If half of them weren’t feuding he’d think the whole thing was choreographed.  Looking at John, he still wasn’t convinced the ginger genius hadn’t managed to orchestrate it.  He was still smirking.

Scott needed to pull out the big guns.

“If you four won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to Grandma.”

The woman was in the garden, taking a well-deserved nap away from five grandsons.  Scott didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew when he was beaten. Two brothers, he could handle. Three, tough but doable.  Four, when one was deliberately stirring the pot? Even Scott had limits.

Any hopes he might have had that the mere threat would be enough died when three defiant – and one amused, damn you, John – faces stared at him.

He pulled out his phone, gave them one more moment to change their minds of their own accord, before making the call.

“Scott?”

“Sorry to interrupt you, Grandma, but can you come back inside?”

“On my way.  What have the trouble-makers done this time?”

Scott gave her a brief rundown, interspersed with varying levels of protest from each brother as it reached their turn.  By the time he was done, the woman was inside the house, regarding all five of them.

Three faces were starting to quail.  Alan in particular looked on the verge of tears, but no teenage rebellion was stopping Virgil being a Grandma’s boy and even Gordon had a healthy respect for her tongue.  John continued to look far too smug, and Scott’s internal alarm bells were ringing.

Still, Grandma was here now. Grandma would sort his brothers out and Scott could get a blissful half hour – maybe even an hour, if he was lucky – without some sort of sibling drama.

“Well, I’m not seeing any problems here.”

What.

Grandma walked straight up to Virgil and started plucking at his jacket, deftly dodging the metallic spikes as she adjusted it on his shoulders.  “When I was your age, it was all pink.  Pink leather, pink hotpants.”  She winked in Scott’s direction and the urge to scream bubbled up in his chest.  “I dyed my hair to match.”

At least his brothers seemed to be as dumbstruck as him about that, even if Scott was watching his last bastion of support crumble before his eyes.

“Your Grandpa had the most amazing Harley,” she continued.  “Ooh, what a beauty.  Such a smooth ride.  He really knew how to treat a girl, your Grandpa.”

Nope.  Absolutely nope.  Scott needed brain bleach, and an escape from the madhouse, preferably before he screamed.

With a hoarse yell that was only a yell, and not a scream at all, he yanked the front door open, all but ran through it, and slammed it so hard a shingle slid from the roof.

He stared at it for a moment before surging into a run, past the garage and that damn trike, over the front gate, and headed straight for… who cared, as long as it was away. Right then, the house could collapse or burn to the ground for all he really cared.

Scott tried to be tolerant, he tried to be fair to all of his brothers, but sometimes it was just too much to handle.

***

“Scott?”

He’d ended up sitting in a tree after running all through the woodland until his legs burned.  Apparently, that wasn’t enough to stop his grandmother finding him when she wanted to.

“Are you ready to come home, dear?” she called up.  He sighed and let his head thud against the trunk.

“Am I going to be ganged up on by my brothers over stupid things if I do?” he asked.  “Because I think I’ve had enough of that.”

“Your brothers and I had a nice long chat, and we’ve put some new house rules in place,” she told him. “Gordon has agreed no more rallies and Alan no longer wants his hair dyed.”

“And Virgil and John?” he asked warily.

“Virgil has agreed not to provoke Gordon any more, but you two need to talk about policing each other’s clothes, young man.”  Scott winced. “As for John, he knows he went too far, but just like with Virgil, you are going to have to talk to each other like the reasonable young men you are.”  There was no reproach in her tone, but Scott felt scolded all the same.

He didn’t want to go home, but if Grandma was promising no more carnage…  Scott could never bring himself to leave his brothers for too long.  Reluctantly, he eased himself out of the tree, swinging from the last branch to the ground below.

“I know you don’t like what Virgil’s done to his hair,” Grandma said, looping her arm through his. “But remember it’s his hair, not yours.”

“It’s not that,” Scott admitted.  “He can do what he wants with it; it’s that trike.  He can’t wear a helmet with his hair all spiked up like that!”

“Then you should tell him that’s why you disapprove.”  Grandma was, as always, full of logic.  “None of you boys can read minds, you know.  You have to talk to each other.”

“I know,” Scott sighed. “Sorry, Grandma, I messed up.”

“You’re just worried about them.”  She squeezed his arm fondly.  “They’ll appreciate it when they’re older.”

“Will they?”

“They’re not the first teenage boys I’ve raised,” she reminded him.  “There’s nothing you and your brothers have done that your father and uncle Lee didn’t do already.”

“…Even the punk mohawk?”

“I still have the photos.”

[incoherentbabblings]

Tim gets himself turned into a cat for a week and is forced to stay at Stephanie's until the spell wears off on its own. Honestly, it's not as traumatic as it sounds. For Tim.

“I refuse to take responsibility,” Damian said. He was holding a glossy short haired black cat with a long face and sharp features. It had big bat ears and lovely big blue eyes whose pupils dilated when Stephanie looked at it. Damian held it out for Stephanie to take, lower legs dangling from a slim body. Its tail whipped from side to side, irritated.

Apparently, it was Tim after one ill-informed altercation with that magician villain who the Teen Titans and the Flash fought occasionally.

Stephanie smiled tightly to the point where Damian thought she was in physical pain.

“Do you want to come in? Have a cup of cocoa maybe?”

“Not even slightly. I have a litter box and some compostable wood pellets for litter,”

Oh my God –

“and father insisted that someone within Gotham care for him until this passes whilst he is off planet. Zatanna says it will end on its own in a week and is less likely to end in permanent brain damage than trying to reverse it artificially. More brain damage than Drake already –”

“Yes, Damian, I get it.” Stephanie sighed, pouting as she inspected Tim, still patiently dangling in Damian’s outstretched arms. “Do you understand us Tim?”

The cat – Tim – yowled in a way which sounded partly like a Siamese cat and partly like an car engine struggling to start, but Damian shook his head.

“No. His brain has shrunk to the size of a peanut. Apparently, he will remember nothing, which is good, all things considered.”

Stephanie frowned, then leaned down directly into the cats eyeline.

“Would you rather stay with me over Damian?” she asked it, regardless. “I guess it makes sense, mom is visiting Florida for the week…” she mused out loud, feeling supremely stupid.

Tim yowled again, and his pupils impossibly grew bigger.

Groaning, Stephanie conceded. “Fine, but –” wasting no time, Damian practically tossed the cat into her arms. She caught Tim clumsily, and he meowed in distress, scrambling up to cling to her shoulders.

“Ow, ow, ow! Claws. Claws, Tim ow!”

She held him tight under his little bum, and as she watched Damian run back to the Alfred chauffeured car for the bits and pieces she would need. Stephanie turned, leaving the front door open, and went upstairs to her room. Tim clung to her tightly, little claws making an imprint in her skin. When she reached her bed she leaned forward, letting him turn on his own and land on his feet in the centre of the mattress. He plopped down, sitting perfectly straight with his tail still swishing, and watched her as she proceeded to help Damian move all the pieces of kit inside. She placed the litter tray in the bathroom, wondering briefly about those YouTube videos she’d seen of cats using the toilet could be applicable. She sighed as she sat the plastic tray down, wiggling little wood pellets a couple of inches deep. Tim had come over to join her in the door frame. He looked up at her, and she looked down at him.

“Tim, I’m going to be scooping up your poo and pee. You better give me a big boon when this all over.”

Tim mewled, and to Stephanie it sounded like a bargain had been struck. Damian handed her a plastic bag filled with cat food – whatever Pennyworth did not wish to eat he explained – then left her to it.

“Do not let him go outside.”

“Yes, Damian.”

His round cheeks puffed up, and the bridge of his nose turned red like it did when he was embarrassed.

“Thank you, Stephanie.”

Somewhat mollified, Stephanie said he was welcome and then Damian and Alfred were gone. Shutting the front door, she turned around to see Tim sitting on the stairs, watching her.

Stephanie jumped, unnerved.

“How much of your peanut sized brain is like… at human level smartness?” she asked.

Tim sat quietly for a moment, watching her with those unnatural icy blue eyes. His tail, disproportionately long, smacked against the floor with a heavy thump.

“None then. Well, still, let me know when you want feeding. Or bathroom breaks so I can clean it up before it stinks out the house. I have to work on college. So… go take a nap or something. You probably need one.”

Tim blinked, stepped down the stairs, went through to the living room, sat on her sofa, and rested his head down. Like the cat he was, he was soon asleep in the late afternoon sun.

Stephanie followed him curiously, peered over the back of the couch, admiring his glossy coat then shook her limbs loose.

Just another day in the life, she told herself.

Having her ex-boyfriend slash transmogrified cat living with her for a week. Sure. Cats were distant creatures, and so were her and Tim in recent years. They could get through this week, surely.

Oddly, having another creature in the house made her feel more lonely.

 *****

 Tim had enough self-awareness to realise he was in fact a cat, but also not enough self-awareness to realise that there were certain behaviours he should not indulge in.

Nobody believed him that he could understand what was being said, so he decided to just go with the flow for the next six days. Abdicate all responsibility. Be feral. Receive the occasional pat on the head. All in good fun. Bizarrely, he was enjoying the drama of it all.

The first issue came about at dinner. He had woken from his nap with a hunger that he had never in his eighteen years (did that make him around two years old in cat years?) of life felt before. It was as if he had not eaten in weeks he was starving he was voracious he –

Needed help in opening tin cans.

Dammit.

Honestly, Tim would have been feeling much more humiliated and more willing to jump out of a window to end it all if he was not so sure that he would instinctively land on his feet.

Just a week. And Stephanie would take care of him, loathe as he was to admit it. She would find it uncomfortable and painful with each interaction, so he would take great care in staying out of her way. Things were awkward enough between them without the knowledge that she was going to have to brush him and feed him and clean up his poops and hairballs (he loathed how easily the concept of grooming came to him). He didn’t need to inflict anymore grief on her than she had already reluctantly accepted.

None of this stopped him from being very hungry when he woke up. He needed food. Preferably ten minutes ago.

He leapt down with a solid thud from Stephanie’s sofa, shaking his head to clear any remaining nap time fuzziness, then plodded upstairs. To his own ears, it sounded very cheery.

She had left her bedroom door slightly ajar, and Tim slid in. She did not hear him enter on account of her having a giant pair of red headphones blasting music at far too loud a volume to be good for her hearing. Or rather, he assumed they were red. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his vision had been altered. Shades of red and green blended together in assorted shades of yellow and brown, and even the blues of the world was washed out and pale. Everything had a slight blur to it, especially for objects further away. When he had first been held up to Stephanie, he realised that the blue of her eyes now seemed almost grey, and her skin was sickly. Of this change, Tim hated the most.

She was leaning over piles of notes, hands stained with highlighter and pen ink. Tim noted her expression and found he did not like it.

She looked very sad.

He meowed to try and get her attention, but with her music playing as loud as it was, she did not hear him. Drastic measures were needed. He would soon be dead from starvation before too long.

He slinked up to the side of her chair, noting the convenient space between her lap, chest and desk. He looked up at her, yowling one more time to try and give her warning, but she did not notice.

Tim blinked slowly. Her eyes were wet.

He leapt up onto her lap, fully expecting her to shriek, to lift and throw him across the room reflexively. However, she just gasped gently, surprise quickly fading, and laughed. Good. The wet look in her eyes vanished with genuine joy. She paused her music, clumsily taking off the headphones and setting them on the desk. She adjusted her lap so Tim could sit more steadily and rested her hands at the base of his back and tail, scratching absentmindedly. He chittered at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” she whispered conspiratorially. Oh, she was enjoying this. Tim grumbled, body vibrating, then hopped up another level onto her desk. With a purposeful tap, he smacked her wrist.

“What is it you little goblin?”

Rude. Tim yowled, and paced back and forth. Stephanie huffed, reaching to pick him up and put him down. When she turned, she saw her alarm clock on her bedside table. It was six o’clock.

“The time?” Her eyes widened with realisation. “Oh? Dinner time?”

His loud, drawn out meow made her wince, but she nodded all the same. “Alright then sir, come on. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

He merrily leapt down from her arms, jogging away down the stairs to the kitchen. Jumping up on the counter, he pawed insistently at the food still in the plastic bags Damian had brought. Food. He needed food. He was wasting away; why couldn’t she see…

“Right, what did Damian gift us with… Oh. Biscuits huh?”

Tim froze. Cat food. He was going to have to eat cat food.

He was a cat. But not that much. He was finding it difficult enough to imagine going in that litter box in not too long. He quietly made a little meow, distressed.

Stephanie opened the bag, and the smell of dry crunchy biscuits filled the air. Tim visibly gagged, and Stephanie quickly resealed the container.

“Yeah, I agree there Timbo. I can’t give you the wet food either, that jelly is disgusting... but your stomach can’t handle human stuff. You’re a carnivore now bud.”

She hemmed and hawed, opening assorted cupboards, looking for something suitable. Tim meowed mournfully. He was going to starve unless he ate the biscuits, but he so did not want to eat the biscuits.

“Oh!” Stephanie chirped, pulling a tin down. She held it up to him for inspection. “Tuna in spring water. That’ll do, right? But how much…”

Tim paced frantically back and forth as she googled portion sizes. Starving, starving, he was skin and bones, no chance for recovery. It had been eight hours since he last ate, how did she expect him to –

She placed a shallow dish in front of him, half of the can placed sweetly in front of him. She then placed down a small glass bowl, filled with fresh water. Uncaring of his dignity, he began to eat voraciously.

Stephanie leaned on the counter, watching him do so.

“I’m sorry there’s no milk. I heard cats are actually lactose intolerant, so just water for you this week.”

Tim ignored her, so delighted with the taste of fresh tuna that the lack of milk was so far down his list of priorities. It was only when Stephanie, in an apparent act of madness, reached down and ran a hand from his temple all the way along his back to the tip of his tail did he look up. Somewhere in the back of his little kitty brain, he noted that his muscles had tensed up, rising to the pressure of her hand as it made its way down his spine to make the contact firmer. Her hand was warm. He looked up from his feast, confused.

She was still smiling, but it looked melancholy to Tim.

“I don’t think you can actually understand me,” she said quietly, half speaking to herself. “Which is pretty expected for us. I think it’s just the fact that you’re a vocal kitty who isn’t going to remember anything in six days’ time. Which is just as well. I can tell you all my secrets then?”

Tim wanted to protest her falsehoods but found the taste of tuna too distracting.

Stephanie continued, “I’m going to go on patrol now. There’s been a monster of a case I’m getting nowhere with. I’m having another go tonight. Don’t sleep on my bed when I’m away okay?”

Tim wanted very much to yowl, to let her know that he could understand, and to ask her why she was being so mopey. It seemed more than just a sadness over his situation. He wanted to explain that, honestly, he was fine with it. Well, not fine. But he had endured much worse. He knew it was temporary, he knew things would return to normal soon, and he was warm, looked after and almost looking forward to a week’s peace.

So what if he was a slightly goofy looking black cat who had the sudden urge to lick himself clean every few minutes? In the grand scheme of trauma he had undergone in his short life, shitting in a box was pretty low on the list.

He tried to tell her it was fine, only to drop tuna all over the counter. In a fumbled attempt to clean up after himself, he licked the surface clean. Stephanie groaned, then rose away from him.

“Enjoy the evening Tim. Don’t bother me when I get back. Don’t puke anywhere.”

Tim, in fact, did not puke that night. He did use the litter box however and hated it. He tried very hard to make as little mess as possible, ensuring all the litter stayed within the box. He was here because of Stephanie’s good nature; he was not about to blow it.

He did, at around 3am, however, experience what he had heard Selina refer to as ‘the zoomies’. It was a frantic pent-up energy that he did not know how to expel. The only way that came to mind was to dash across the house in a desperate attempt to tire himself out so he could return to sleep. So, he ran, up and down the stairs, leaping off the banisters and hopping over chairs and coffee tables. He did so, bored out of his mind, until he saw the lights of her vehicle pull up. He ran up the stairs in time for Batgirl to crawl through her window. He sat patiently in her doorway, waiting for the right moment to greet her, when he saw she collapsed to the floor with a distinctive and heartrending cry of pain. His little heart pounded painfully at the sound, but he did not move.

He watched as she cursed up a storm, correcting her position so she could take off her costume piece by piece. She did so wincing, crying out, and swearing with each painful movement. If she had someone to help her, she would have been able to get ready for bed in much less agony. Whatever she had dealt with this night, it had been rough.

She crawled around on the floor, apparently unable to walk now that the adrenaline had worn off. She remained in her shorts and sports bra, and without showering, crawled into bed. Tim watched as she reached into her bedside table, pulled out two painkillers, and like a baby, swallowed them with some water from a sports bottle that stood nearby.

He thought he heard her very quietly cry to herself, but that couldn’t be. Stephanie did not cry. His hearing had been different since the transformation last night, sounds and noises did not compute the way they used to. The sound she was making very quickly stopped though, and instead Tim heard her very determinedly whisper to herself,

“Always better in the morning.”

It wasn’t a philosophy he completely agreed with. Sometimes the morning just brought clarity of the previous day’s horror. But her odd breathing stopped, and soon it was replaced with the deep gentle snoring of someone sleeping. Finally, Tim moved. He wanted to curl up next to her. Stephanie was warm, and he had discovered recently that he liked warm places. He wanted her hand to stroke him again.

But no. She had said to stay off her bed for sleeping. She has asked him not to bother her. She certainly would not be happy to find him sleeping next to her. Tim tried to remind himself that he was only getting away with certain behaviours because of his size, and there were some boundaries that he should not cross. What if she woke up in the morning, only to find that the spell had worn off early, and there was a naked human Tim Drake in her bed?

Oh no. That would be very embarrassing.

Besides, he didn’t have that kind of relationship with her anymore. He didn’t have the right anymore to insert himself into her space. They had decided not to pursue it. Not good for her, she’d said.

Tim could no longer remember his own reason. He suspected it was moot after she had become Batgirl.

And yet… she’d been crying. Tim wanted to help her. How could that not be good? Surely if he could provide comfort, if he wanted to provide comfort, she would allow it?

He turned away, not liking the way it felt like turning away from someone calling for help and returned to the living room sofa. He curled into a ball, and slept until the morning, whereupon the hunger pains hit him once more.

And so, a routine began. Tim would yowl like he was dying outside Stephanie’s door, reluctant to intrude whilst she slept. Eventually, Stephanie would emerge, ready to feed him chicken or another half a tin of tuna. He was not so secretly delighted at the way her eyes lit up with humour when she saw him, spinning in circles unable to contain his excitement, though Tim would note locations of bruises that had not been there the night before. She was struggling, it seemed.

She would then go take a shower, clean out his litter tray with a pithy comment, then go to class, leaving Tim bored until she would return after four, ready to clean his litter tray once more, provide dinner, then spend a couple of hours doing homework before leaving again for patrol. She would return at first light, looking more defeated with each passing sunrise. She would be smiling come the morning, but – even with a brain the size of a monkey nut – Tim saw it was shallow.

It did not escape Tim’s notice that she was going out of her way to avoid him. He understood it. She did the same thing when he was human. He would call for her help from time to time with a case, which she gave without reservation, just as she had done now for kitty him, but rarely, if ever, did she call for his aid.

Her stubborn independent streak had not abated with time it seemed, even when it came at the price of her safety.

That and she just seemed sadder than usual. Or was this usual, and he was just never around and allowed to view it?

His tiny mind whirled and churned, and with no outlet, he stewed, glaring out the window at passer-by’s and their dogs.

Regardless, on the fifth night, after hearing her stilted heart-rending sobs and half-hearted and self-inflicted words of comfort, he decided to break the one boundary she had set.

He jumped up onto the bed, moving until he had clambered on her sternum, then folded down into a loaf position. Stephanie tensed, unsure what game he was playing, until she felt him begin to purr.

She laughed brokenly, more of a whimper than a genuine expression of joy and reached up to scratch behind his ears.

Tim purred louder, to her delight.

“I’m having a bit of a rough time,” she spoke quietly in the dark, as if reluctant to break the thick, dark blanket of warmth and comfort. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tim gave a small ripple of a meow in response. She was not a burden.

“I can’t get a crack on this case,” she explained. “I make a dent, get hurt in a fight and am fine in the morning, but then so are they. I’ve hit a wall. But I have to do it alone. Bruce and Babs expect me to now… I have to…”

Her voice broke and she cut herself off. She smiled crookedly, painfully trying to dispel her sadness. Tim began to make biscuits. He didn’t understand why, but he thought the pressure would help. She was a little furnace beneath him, and he purred loudly, drowning out her shaky breathing.

Stephanie chuckled at the sensation of his little vibrating chest. She ran a hand down his back again, enjoying the smooth coat. Contradictorily once more her eyes became wet.

“Do you think, when you are back to normal, we could talk? There’s…there’s no-one else who would understand. Though I think I’d make Cass sad if I told her that. But I miss you. And I think it’s my fault.”

Tim shifted upwards, until his nose rested under her chin. He continued to purr loudly, nearly trilling with the force of it. Steph nuzzled in close and kissed his forehead and flicked his large ears.

“Silly boy. I hope you don’t remember this. You’d hate me for it.”

Tim meowed grouchily. How she could lie to herself like that…

They’d burned their bridge long ago. He knew this. And him being a cat for a week was not going to mend it. But it made his heart ache like nothing else to see her despondent. He silently promised himself that he would extend an olive branch before the end of next week. They couldn’t continue like this, tip toeing around each other with Tim occasionally stepping too close and making Steph flinch back away.

She wasn’t flinching away now though.

She picked him up so she could sleep better and set him on the pillow next to her. Turning on her side, she reached up and placed a soft, warm hand on his shoulders, rhythmically petting the fur there.

Her quiet sniffles died off, Tim’s purring acting as a lullaby, and she fell asleep before the sun rose.

Throughout the night he shifted closer, until he was practically resting on her head. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, her long golden hair acting like a silken pillow, and kept guard for the rest of the night.

 *****

 Stephanie awoke to her nose being licked. She opened her eyes blearily, and realised it was Tim cat. She blushed, remembering what had transpired last night. She told herself it was fine, opening up like that. It was only a cat. It was only Tim. Tim, who would be blissfully ignorant come the evening. Though that reminded her, she better lay out some clothes for him. Her mother was coming back at some point in the next forty-eight hours. The idea of her walking in on a naked Tim would cause a conniption.

She smooched Tim’s head, and he meowed cheerily at the wet smack, and continued to press up against her.

She had kept her distance at first, struggling to reconcile Tim with the little sleek gremlin cat meowing at her feet. It felt weird, so she – for a lack of a better term – ignored him. He would be so angry when he changed back, she wanted to avoid anything which he could extrapolate from the week as her being mocking or patronising.

Bruce’s anger she had learned to ignore, Tim’s she hadn’t figured out a knack for yet. It hurt, in a physical manner that she could not explain. Like he was kicking her in the gut again. She found herself actively taking steps now to avoid it. Avoid the concept of it.

But she was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. Years ago, when she would reach such a state, Tim would somehow figure it out and slink in through her window or take her on a quiet date. The two would hold on to each other, and let Stephanie catch her breath and perspective with a warm pillar of support behind her.  

Despite Tim now being a cat, it seemed he still had this perception, and had sought her out to give comfort. Weird how animals could sense those sorts of things.

Fuck it, she thought. It was the last day, she was feeling miserable, and there was a perfectly cuddly vibrating fluff ball in her arms, who showed no signs of irritation and instead was offering comfort that she didn’t get much of in recent years. She was going to milk this for all it was worth. Maybe she could take some photos and videos later – humiliate or blackmail Tim later. All in good fun, of course. She never wanted to genuinely upset him.

She continued to give him sweet pecks on his head back and sides, which she thought he liked, as he meowed and headbutted her.

“Sweetie,” she praised, and she picked him up to cradle him properly. He flipped over, being held like a baby, as she continued to croon, “Last day as a kitty. Tomorrow you won’t remember a thing, and we won’t be able to talk like I am now… isn’t that sad? I think we should spoil you today. Lap of luxury and all that. It’ll keep my brain busy, if nothing else.”

He pawed at her chin, and she kissed his toe beans.

She spent an embarrassingly long amount of the day starfished on the floor, playing with Tim. He was a chatty little cat, more so than he ever was as a person. His meows sounded like a revving engine and were as long as he could hold his breath. He was graceful though, despite his lanky limbs and giant ears. He leapt from surface to surface and straight into her arms with seemingly no effort, and whenever she let him roll out of her embrace, he landed neatly on his feet every single time.

Stephanie couldn’t help it, but when she pulled out a little laser from her Batgirl belt, she recorded Tim’s feral delight, chasing a speck of red across the house. She laughed more than she had in a long while, partly because it had been so long since she had seen anything so unabashedly goofy as Tim as a cat, shaking his little bum, pupils dilated larger than dinner plates, in preparation to jump a red point of light.

It was delightful and made her wonder if she could convince Crystal to adopt a cat once she returned. Poor Tim, he’d have no clue what he’d endured come the morning, but at least in that moment, he seemed happy.

When it reached eight pm, Stephanie sighed, realising she had another night of patrol to face. Selfishly, she wanted to linger, to keep company with the cat, but she quickly shook that thought off. People needed her. She wanted her case over and done with.

“One last go,” she whispered. “I can do it tonight. I’m nearly there.”

Tim hopped up onto her lap and she was sliding on her gloves. She chuckled lightly and scratched under his chin. He purred, craning his neck to allow her better access.

“I’ll lay your human clothes out for you on my bed, okay? If it’s not fixed by the time I’m back… I’ll put you in your boxers and jeans and hopefully come morning…” She got up, hoisting Tim to rest on her shoulders, and tugged one of the plastic bags Damian had left for her. To her growing dismay, she realised there was only a pair of underpants. She looked sideways, Tim peering over her left shoulder. “Oh dear, Tim. Damian really is out to get you, huh?”

He chuffed, like he was grumbling to himself. She pecked him once more, and he meowed more firmly, hopping off her shoulders as she made her way to rummage through her wardrobe.

“I don’t want my mom to come back and find you in your undies in my room and me being AWOL. That would just be one step too much for her, I think. I still have some baggy sweatshirts…pants though… pants…”

She tossed clothes haphazardly, at one point burying Tim under a pile of bras and underpants that she shrieked at, loudly and joyously, when she realised what she had done. Eventually she found a pair of jeggings which she hoped would suffice. Tim looked almost suspicious. If he had eyebrows, they would have been raised.

“You have skinny legs,” Stephanie justified, feeling insane talking to the cat. “It’s fine. Just until the morning. I’ll drive you back and no-one will see your shame. Not even Damian. We’ll sneak. Promise.”

She carefully laid out the clothes, and shoved what she had carelessly tossed out her closet back in with equal zeal. Pecking Tim once more on the head, she moved the litter box into her bedroom and shut the door.

“I can’t have mom coming back to a half naked boy in my living room and a box of used kitty litter. You’ll have to stay in here. Hopefully, I’ll be back before she is. She said she’ll drive the whole way and not stop. So, maybe by seven in the morning? Fingers crossed.”

She opened up the windowsill, slinking her leg over. Tim hopped up on her desk, as if to follow her out.

“Uh-uh,” she warned, pressing on his wet nose firmly. “You have to wait here. Damian made me promise you’d stay inside. I can’t risk losing you.”

She caught herself speaking more desperately than she intended and shuddered. “You know what I mean. Naked boy CEO found running through the streets of Gotham is not the kind of attention the family needs right now. Be good, Tim. And thank you. You cheered me up so much today.”

One more kiss, then she was out the window, sliding it definitively shut. As she mounted the bike, Tim perched himself at the windowsill, watching her shoot off down the street.

When she was out of sight, he jumped down and paced endlessly, stressed and worried. She had been struggling so much with patrol, and he was unable to help her. Feeling utterly helpless, he jumped up onto her bed and settled on her main pillow. Curling up into a ball, he settled in to wait, praying that she would return home safely, and before Crystal arrived back.

He awoke, briefly, when he felt a soft pair of hands lifting him up. He chirped and chuffed, and it was Stephanie hushing him. She wrapped him up in his boxers and sat him next to her under the covers.

She was smiling, albeit a tired smile.

“I did it,” she whispered, scratching his ears. “Tim, I did it.”

Tim meowed a congratulatory chitter, and Stephanie smiled wider.

“Sleep now. I’ll explain more in the morning.”

In an act which utterly took Tim off guard, she pulled him closer, curling around him in a crescent moon shape. Under the covers in the dark, surrounded by her scent and soft breath, Tim began to purr once more.

 *****

 “Steph? Steph…”

Stephanie grumbled, then opened her eyes when cold fingertips pressed against her cheek. Looking at him with an expression Tim could not decipher (relief? Disappointment? Fright?) Stephanie inspected Tim up and down. He had put on his boxers and her sweatshirt but had yet to touch her trousers. Nevermind. He was kneeling on the floor next to her bed. According to her clock, it was just after six in the morning.

Right, Tim needed context.

“I suppose you are very confused right now… Being in my room in your undies… so let me explain—”

She yawned then, arms emerging from her duvet to stretch dramatically. Tim watched the muscles in her neck, then chuckled to himself.

“No, Steph. I remember.”

“Oop.” She froze, watching him anxiously, like an antelope faced with a lion. “Everything?”

“Everything.” He then snorted defiantly, “despite what Damian insisted, I was still me. Shockingly, he is not omnipotent.”

Chewing her tongue, Stephanie narrowed her eyes, not having it at all.

“Oh c’mon, you are lying out your butt.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! There’s no way you’d lower yourself to chasing my laser pen across my living room. Oh gosh, Tim, it must have been horrible…”

Tim shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.

“Maybe I wanted to catch that point of light, huh?” he teased. He then conceded, “Maybe I had a bit of trouble keeping cat me and human me straight in my head.”

“Yeah, that I believe.”

“But honestly, having a week where my biggest concern was whether I was getting tuna or chicken for my next meal was sort of refreshing.”

“I can find a way to turn you back if you like.”

“Hmm. Pass.”

Stephanie giggled, but cut off abruptly when Tim shuffled closer. She felt herself grow cross eyed as she watched him move in so intimately. Tim’s warm breath blew over her as he continued,

“Yeah well, having said that… You mentioned that I helped you. Cheered you up.”

Tim’s teasing look softened, and in that moment looked at Stephanie with such unabashed and unfiltered affection that she felt incredibly self-conscious. Tim was only in his boxers and her sweatshirt, and she was only in a baggy nightgown that she had tossed on when she had arrived home; the first time in weeks she had been uninjured enough to change her clothes.

“Maybe,” Tim continued, “I wanted to see you smile. You were so sad all this week… I needed to help you. Even if it was as dumb as chin scratches – as good as they felt – and chasing lasers. I… I heard you crying, Steph.”

Her arms came down from their stretch, and rested on his shoulders, fingers gently stroking back and forth.

“I’m okay,” she promised, like she was the one comforting him.

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed. “I could have helped you before now.”

There was no chiding in his tone, only pleading, but it made Stephanie feel guilty, nonetheless.

“I had to do it alone.”

“No, no you didn’t. You don’t have to be alone for anything.”

“You’re such a big softie.”

Tim laughed gently, “With you, sure.” Taking a deep breath, he moved even closer until he was practically leaning over her, tips of their noses touching. “Steph… I need to ask you something.”

Stephanie nodded, eyes growing damp. “Shoot,” she whispered, voice cracking and betraying the nonchalant words.

“Could we –”

Crystal opened Stephanie’s bedroom door, and the pair froze. Instinctively, Stephanie raised an arm with a shocked cry, slamming Tim in the face. He wheezed and shot up into standing, which only proved to give Crystal a good view of him in his underwear and daughter’s clothes. Looking somewhat dazed and yet unsurprised, she looked to Stephanie for whatever lie of an excuse her daughter could conjure up.

“Mommy!” Steph cried out. “I did not hear you get back. How was Florida?”

“I was being quiet since it was still early,” Crystal grumbled, unamused by Stephanie’s glib tone. “But then I heard talking.”

Crystal glared at Tim, who fidgeted, finding no dignity in any pose he maintained. Stephanie scrambled upwards so she was sitting, thankfully she had managed to put on pyjamas last night, and clambered for some excuse, any excuse.

“Tim was… It’s not… ”

Seeing her daughter fail to come up with some vaguely plausible non incriminating reasoning, Crystal turned to Tim, glaring holes through his head. He would crack in a way that Stephanie would not.

“Why are you here, Tim?” she demanded.

“I… I…” Tim began to shiver with nerves, face flushed red and eyes bright with panic.

“Where are your pants?”

Tim choked on air. “…I don’t have any. With me.”

“And no shirt either?”

Tim very much wished the ground would swallow him up.

“No.”

Stephanie groaned, throwing herself face down into her pillow. “Good job, Tim.”

“It’s the truth, Stephanie!”

Crystal’s fingers twitched on the door handle, and Stephanie could see one of her pressure headaches building, like a throbbing in her mother’s temple.

“You know what – just leave Tim. And we won’t discuss it again.”

Tim would take that and run. At least this time he wasn’t being chased out of a house with a shotgun like Ariana’s uncle had done.

“Sure. Sure. Can… Steph. Can I borrow your phone?”

“So someone can come pick you up?” Crystal snorted. “What? Don’t you have shoes either?”

Tim realised if Crystal had her way he would have been forced to run back to the manor. Death at this point really would have been preferable. Weakly, he just stated, “No, Mrs. Brown.”

Stephanie spoke at her mother and into her pillow, unable to look the embarrassing situation in the eye.

“Mom, please. The guy’s dignity has already been shot. Please don’t make him walk back to Wayne Manor in his tidey-wideys. I can give you a lift Tim, I said I would.”

“No, no,” Crystal insisted. “I’m sure you’ve done enough Stephanie.”

Stephanie shrieked, muffled but distressed. Dramatically, with exaggerated movements, she removed her phone form under her pillow and unlocked it without looking, then tossed it up the air. Tim scrambled to catch it, then dialled for the manor. Crystal stood aside, indicating it was time for Tim to leave the room. He looked back to Stephanie, still buried in her bed sheets. It was a look of desperation on his features that made Crystal feel almost guilty for separating the pair, but honestly, she did not trust her daughter, and she did not trust Tim, however soft spoken he may have been.

When Tim exited the room, Crystal shut the door with a definitive slam behind him. Turning back to Stephanie, she saw her daughter’s shoulders shaking with quiet crying. This only served to befuddle Crystal more, but before she could say or do anything else, a shallow container on the floor by her daughter’s desk caught her eye.

“Is that a litter tray?” she asked, confusion reaching fever pitch.

Stephanie raised her head to stare at her mother, eyes wet and pout overwhelmingly sad.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

 *****

 “Alfred washed it. Got rid of all the cat hairs.”

Tim held up the blue sweater for Stephanie to take on her doorstep. She took it reverently and inhaled deep. Alfred always used an excess of fabric conditioner that made clothes smell lush. Tim, for his part, looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry you got drawn into all of that. I’m sorry I made you and your mom fall out.”

Stephanie said nothing, keeping Tim on the doorstep as she set down the sweatshirt. When she looked back to Tim, closing the front door behind her, she was struck by the thought that he seemed much younger than eighteen. He was scuffing his feet on the concrete, hands behind his back, like a bashful child.

“It was all because I was careless with Abra Kadabra and it bit me in the butt and Damian didn’t want to have to deal with me so he burdened you with it. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t a burden,” she replied quietly. “I liked it. The last day.”

“Oh,” Tim blushed, looking anywhere but in her eye. “Me too. For what it’s worth. Honestly, it was actually really nice. Relatively. In context. You know. In a not creepy way.”

“It must have been a bit weird. Like, don’t pretend it wasn’t. All that chicken and tuna you ate for one thing…”

Tim chuckled to himself, finding something very funny.

“Yeah my digestion has been wild the past week and... too much information. Sorry.”

Stephanie tried to catch his eye, but Tim kept his head stubbornly down. His feet must have been very interesting.

“You… you were going to ask me something, before my mom walked in,” she pushed.

He coughed, choking on nothing but his nerves.

“Was I?”

“Tim.” She reached out and took his hand. Tim flinched, then relaxed and finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye. She smiled, beautifully, always beautifully, and he squeezed her fingers.

“I’m sorry if it took me being turned into a cat to actually ask.”

“That’s okay. It happens for people like us. In a way I think it puts things into perspective. So, please ask.”

“You…” 

He stared at her, admiring her, before finding words couldn’t do the job well enough. Instead, he leaned forward, meeting Stephanie who was also moving closer, and the two kissed on Stephanie’s front doorstep. She broke away with such a delighted laugh that Tim chuckled himself.

“Ask me,” she insisted.

Tim shook his head and kissed her again. Falling back against her front door, the two made out for a moment too long before Stephanie regained her senses. She pushed him back, laughing louder and more hysterically.

“Tim! No! You need to ask!”

Another kiss, this time accompanied by him picking her up and swinging her in a circle. Finally, Stephanie gave up and held him tight. Tim made a noise that she could only describe as a chirp of delight in response.

“You’re a little gremlin,” she muttered into his mouth. “Cat or otherwise.”

[blueluneacy]

Worthy of his Grace

Hey yall, this is a commission fic for the lovely @diobrandoatemykids! They’re super great!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: 5k words

Warnings: love bites, possessive behavior, fingering, self doubt, lovey sex, cute pet names

You sighed as you looked away from the mirror in your shared room. Part of you wanted to slam your fist into the damn thing, to smash it until you couldn’t even see your reflection in the shards. But no, that would cause worries and bleeding hands. The glass would cling to your hands and you would receive cuts you wouldn’t be able to hide from your lover, making it impossible for you to not let him know what was going on. While you doubted that Kars would ever say such a thing to you, you were certain that he deserved better. In a world where humans were slowly dwindling and Kars had become an almighty being incapable of death, it just shocked you to believe that he would even lay eyes on you. And yet, here you were, taken in by this god like being, to be loved and adored by him. You wondered if one day, he would become sick of you and discard you. You weren’t sure if you feared that, or felt as though you deserved it.

So, you did your best to sit up straight as Kars opened the door into your shared quarters, smiling as you saw him look at you lovingly, even though a pang in your chest told you that you didn’t deserve it. Fuck that pang.

“You’re back early. Did everything go alright?” You asked, looking over at your Lord and just basking in his presence. He was certainly nice to look at, you’ll give him that much. 

“Of course it did. Just a few straggling hamon users. Nothing I’m unable to handle now.” Kars replied, and god, there was just a hint of smugness in his words that made you quiver. Kars was extremely proud of his triumph, and he had made such clear at all times. You had heard that after his victory, he went on a rampage against his enemies, tearing each of them apart. But you weren’t sure if you could ever believe that though. After all, he was soft with you, so loving and gentle in a way that made you just swoon. And when Kars opened up his arms to you, you couldn’t help but jump up and let yourself be embraced by them, Kars’ skin cool but pleasant to the touch. You felt the way Kars relaxed once your skin was against him, feeling just the bit proud of yourself that you could at least offer such an ethereal being the slightest bit of comfort. Kars just smiled as he lifted you up into his arms and brought you to the bed you were once resting on, keen on relaxing with his darling. 

“And now, I get the joy of being right beside you. Soon, all these leftover fleas will be dealt with, and I’ll never be forced to leave your side…” Kars hummed before leaning in and pressing soft kisses against your neck. And you knew that you should be happy to hear that, that you should be grateful and honored that Kars would even consider spending that much time with you. That you should be honored that you’re considered his, loved and taken care of by him. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that pang in your stomach, your body tensing up just the slightest bit before you forced yourself to relax. But, of course, Kars notices everything. He raised an eyebrow, pulling you just a bit closer. He knew that he had his temper to work on, certainly, so he took a deep breath to attempt to stop himself from losing his cool.

“Does that idea not please you, little one?” He asked, and you could tell he was doing his best to keep a growl from pouring forth. You gulped and quickly moved into fixing mode. You would never want your own self worth issues to ever be a reason you rejected Kars, of course not!

“Of course not, Kars! You know I love you, I want to be with you…” You replied, looking down at yourself and sighing. You told yourself you wouldn’t get Kars involved in your own issues, you really did. He didn’t deserve to be wrapped up in your own nonsense, and yet here you were. However, your words were enough to soften the almighty being, a hand moving to gently pet your hair. You gasped a bit as you felt his large hand, giggling a bit. Kars was just so large, it almost felt comical. As you laughed, Kars drank in the sound of your happiness. He could listen to that sweet melody over and over, taking in the sounds of your joy and feeling pride in knowing that he was the one who caused them. 

“Then what is it, my love? Have I been doing something wrong? Are you in need of something?” He asked, and there was just the slightest bit of disappointment in his voice that just made you feel so bad. You didn’t mean to hurt Kars, not in the slightest! God, it really did feel like everything was going wrong.

“No, it’s not you, really. You’re perfect, Kars, you already know that. I’m the one who’s… Not.” You admitted, refusing to look at your lover and instead letting your eyes glue themselves to the bedsheets. You sighed as you looked at the soft fabric, and vaguely wished that you could cocoon yourself into them and simply disappear from the world. However, Kars probably wouldn’t let you, not to mention you were sure it wasn’t possible. Probably.

“What do you mean, little one? You’re wonderful.” Kars told you, and you really just wanted to shrink away, to hide from his kind words, because in your mind you believed you didn’t deserve them. But Kars just held you tight, starting to get an inkling of what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. At least someone was aware.

“I… Are you sure? Are you sure that you wouldn’t prefer someone… Better?” You felt your eyes start to well up, and you just gulped, leaning your head back to try and blink the foul things back, to not show this side of you to someone so perfect like Kars. “I’m not particularly pretty, and it’s not like I’m offering you anything that’s unique… There’s plenty of people out there who deserve to be with you much more than I do, I just-” You felt the words begin to pour out of your mouth almost uncontrollably, barely even noticing how you could no longer contain the tears falling from your eyes until Kars finally cut you off.

“That’s enough.” Kars let go of you to look at you more clearly, but it honestly just made you feel like he was upset with you. Maybe you deserved it, you shouldn’t have saddled Kars with all of your personal emotional baggage, venting to him about things that really weren’t important to someone as powerful as him. He deserved better, needed better-

But still, Kars reached forward and gently cupped your cheek, watching as you still leaned into the touch.

“Do you really believe those things about yourself?” He asked gently. You looked away, refusing to look your lover in the eye, but still nodded. You could never lie to Kars, not that you ever wanted to. He just sighed, pulling you back into his embrace and holding you tightly. You were shocked to find how he actually buried his own face in your shoulder. You were tickled by the way his locks fell over you, leaving you to sniffle. “I’m so sorry, little one. I should’ve been there for you. Do not worry, I’ll make sure to show you how worthy you truly are.” He cooed, leaving you to gasp as he pulled up his face from your shoulder. You were about to argue, to tell him not to trouble himself, that you would be fine on your own, that he didn’t need to bother, but you didn’t have the time. Kars pressed his plush lips against yours, pressing you into a gentle kiss as he held you close, and god, you just melted into it. Kars was sweet, so gentle with you, it was truly wonderful to feel him up against you like this, for him to press his lips against yours as he lightly prodded you to open up your mouth for his tongue, bringing you with him into the throes of passion.

And Kars relished in your presence, in your radiance. To him, you were like the sun, ever present and now attainable, now his to adore and bask in its presence. You were his sanctuary, his place to relax and to enjoy, and in return, he wanted to give you everything he could, to have you beside him eternally. And if you couldn’t love yourself, well… Kars was going to make sure he loved you enough for the both of you, to make sure you knew exactly how precious you were to him. 

So he let his hands travel to your hips, moving to place you on your back on the lush bed, leaving you to gasp as you felt yourself sink just the slightest bit. Kars loved how you reacted to the slightest of things, how you seemed to find interest in what he never noticed. You brought new perspective, new wonder to what was once mundane. Even kissing you was something unique now, the way your skin against his lips as he pressed feather light kisses against your neck, the way he saw your chest rise and fall as he began to slip his fingers under your light clothing to run his fingertips against you. You were artistic, beautiful, passionate. You were alive in a way Kars never was, that he knew he would truly never be. In a way, he slightly envied you for that, even if his power was far greater, with his pros definitely outweighing any sort of con at this point. You had a vibrancy to you that just made Kars adore you, his love for you igniting his heart in a way that made him feel like a child. You were his, all his, and you were wonderful.

And yet, you tried to sit up. You didn’t want to let Kars do all the work, it simply felt unfair. After all, you were the one who had been here, sitting and waiting for him, while Kars went out and made the world safe for you. Kars had told you that he wished to bring you everywhere, for the two of you to explore the planet together once it was safe, but that his enemies still lurked near, all too eager to find a way to destroy him. Only fools search for what is impossible, but they still could be irksome. Especially when someone as fragile as you might get entangled into it. So you were kept away, safe and hidden while Kars worked away at making this planet a paradise for the both of you. It felt only fair that you at least let Kars relax when he wasn’t toiling for you, but when you tried to sit up, he simply pressed you down, hushing you.

“Please, dear, let me show you how much I love you. Relax just for tonight for me, won’t you? If I want you to do anything, I promise to let you know.” He told you. Tentatively, you relaxed, leaning your head against the feather pillows below you as Kars smiled, letting his hands slowly pull off your top as he drank in the view, humming as he let a hand run along your stomach before pressing a kiss on your collar. He slowly moved downward, making sure to lavish each part of you with love via gentle kisses, looking up occasionally to take in your cute face. You were just so embarrassed from all the love that Kars was showing you, you couldn’t help it! While his body was muscular and pulled taut, his lips were soft, letting you take in the wonders of them as he travelled ever lower. You felt the way his fingers hooked around your underwear and you gasped, causing Kars to lift up his head.

“May I?” He asked, and god, if looks could kill. While his voice sounded innocent, you could see the slightest hint of a smirk. Kars knew damn well what he was doing to you, and oh how he loved it. You were already putty in his hands, willing to jump and serve him, to do anything to make him happy. But right now, the thing that would make him most happy is him having the honor of pleasuring you, to take you in as you were and make you his. 

“Y-Yeah, I-I guess so…” Your response was shaky, your eyes darting away as to not meet his sinful eyes, knowing that the flames of lust had ignited in them. You didn’t want to admit it, but you too could feel heat start to coil in your belly from the way Kars was treating you, the way he was admiring you. He smiled with your response, pulling down your underwear and tossing it to the side without a care in the world, leaving you just to roll your eyes. Such showmanship. Still, you weren’t given much time to chuckle at the way Kars carried himself with the way his hands gently grasped your thighs pulling them apart. You just gawked at him with wide eyes, almost expecting him to pull some sort of trick. But he just smiled, seeing the fruits of his labors already coming to bloom.

“Eager, aren’t we?... You’re such a cute thing, already getting ready for me like this…” Kars teased, leaving you to look away and pout, your face starting to flush.

“I-It’s not my fault… Your face is too pretty. I’m banning it.” You replied a bit jokingly, hoping your humor would be enough to curb some of your own embarrassment. It only half worked. 

“Hmm… Well then, please do look at me through every moment of this, won’t you?” Kars replied. You were about to ask what he meant before a clawed finger began to prod at your entrance, leaving you to gasp. You immediately tried to squeeze your eyes shut, only for Kars to tut just a bit. You really were just so cute like that.

“Already, little one? Come now, I want you to see who exactly is making you feel so good.” He tutted, and you apprehensively tore open your eyes to see Kars’ red ones meet your own, smiling as he slipped a finger inside of you. 

“Theeere we go, my dear. That’s exactly it.” He chuckled, leaving you to turn red as he began to play with you, no doubtedly opening you up to take his cock. You watched as he opened you up, moving to press kisses along your stomach, humming as he took in the sounds of your soft moans. You did your best to try and relax, hoping to not jump the gun on this whole affair. You were Kars wasn’t very patient with these things, and you didn’t want any uh… Mishaps when he entered you. 

“K-Kars…” You mumbled out, your hand inching down to run your fingers through his hair. It was always a surprise how soft his hair was, the silky quality rivaling most fine fabrics, in your humblest opinion. You were, however, just the slightest bit biased. You smiled just a bit as you heard Kars let out a slight purr as your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. Kars loved to feel as though he was above such things as feeling good from something so simple, but you enjoyed bringing him back down to earth, just a little. You gasped when you felt just the slightest bit of teeth on your stomach, staring at your lover entirely doe-eyed. He just smirked, drinking in your surprised expression.

“What is it? Did you think you were immune to my teeth, to my harsher touches?” Kars teased, leaving you just to look away as you slowly massaged his scalp.

“I don’t want anything bitter tonight. Please, just be tender with me…” You mumbled. Kars eyes widened as you spoke out those words, and before you could even realize it, he had pressed another finger inside of you, moving up to leave kisses against your neck.

“Alright, little one, I’ll accept that. But can’t I at least leave my mark on you? I want everyone to know who you belong to…” Kars growled. You whimpered and tilted your neck just a slightest bit, hoping to give the Pillarman eager access. It was a strange exhilaration, to have Kars nip and bruise a place as delicate as your neck. To know that his fangs could easily tear you apart if he so wished, perhaps, made you feel more alive, the sensations going through you even more amplified, even though you were certain he would never do such a thing. 

“Alright, but just a little… I mean, everyone already knows I’m yours anyway…” You felt a bit of your own zest come back to you, your own teasing and cooing words able to be spoken despite your precarious position. While Kars was always on top, with very few exceptions, he enjoyed being with someone who could bite back just a little, offering up a witty word or two, while still remaining loyal and submissive to him. Kars just hummed, letting his kisses become harsher as he so pleased, his teeth scraping against your tender skin and worrying it red. At one point, you felt embarrassed about the marks Kars loved to leave on you, even attempting to cover them up. But those actions made Kars only resolve to leave more all over you, to make them harder to cover, until you eventually just gave up on the whole affair. After all, it wasn’t like anyone dared to judge you for it. Everyone knew what was going on.

So you let Kars have his way with your body, the pleasure going through you simply from his fingers enough to make your toes curl. When the pads of his fingers pressed up against your sweet spot, you moaned, throwing your head back as you bucked your hips against Kars to try and gain more of that feeling. There was a time where you might have been much more embarrassed by the way you reacted, but there wasn’t enough time for that now. You hear Kars growl into your ear, his fingers slowing down to carefully find the spot he had just touched. When he heard you whimper as he brushed against it, he just hummed, pausing for a moment before beginning to attack the spot incessantly. You couldn’t help but groan in pleasure, throwing your arms over your lover’s shoulders to try and find some sort of grounding. 

“Listen to the cute sounds you’re making, little one… I can feel the way you’re squeezing on my fingers, the way you’re pulling me in. You really are precious…” His voice was light in your ear as you felt his hair brush over your chest, leaving you to just gasp as you felt yourself starting to near your finish.

“K-Kars, please, fuck, need you, I’m so close, feels good, fuck, please!” You couldn’t help but just babble out your own begging words, your body anxious for release as Kars brought you closer and closer to bliss. You let your nails dig into his perfect skin, knowing that it wouldn’t matter anyway, and that you couldn’t leave any marks on Kars by the time you were done. The way his body healed left you unable to mark him up in the same way Kars often marked you. It pissed you off just a little bit, but you were able to get over it. 

“Are you now? Do you want to cum on my fingers, love?” His words were just slightly teasing in a way that made you ache all the more for him, so you couldn’t help but nod, trying to pull Kars impossibly closer. He did his best to curb the rumble he wanted to let out as he felt your hands on him, instead nipping at your neck and lapping at the small amount of blood that came from his efforts. He always did relish in your blood, finding the quality of it to be so refined, so much better than anything he could ever have imagined. You were so perfect, and yet you weren’t even trying. You didn’t know about your perfection, and even if you did, you were humbled by it. You were a counter to Kars’ own pride, his own hubris, and yet you were still able to entice him so. 

“Then cum for me, little one. We need to see that you’re nice and prepared to take me.” He told you, and Kars’ words broke down the dam that was holding you together, leaving you to let out a loud moan as you let yourself grab onto Kars freely, holding onto him as your body shuddered with waves of pleasure washing over you. Kars easily worked you through your orgasm, watching with delight as your expression became just a bit dazed, your chest quickly rising and falling with your short breath, your body still squeezing around his fingers as if to pull him in ever closer. When he finally pulled out his fingers, you whined just the slightest bit, letting your head rest on the pillows. You had to regain yourself just a bit, rest for a moment before you got back at it. Kars just hummed as he looked at you, and you could tell by the smug grin on his face that he was damn pleased with himself at the mess he made of you. You saw the way his cock was straining in his loincloth and you couldn’t help but reach forward, trying to help pull it off.

“Already back at it, aren’t we?” Kars teased, leaving you to blush as you clumsily pulled at the cloth.

“You’ve already helped me so much… I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing…” You mumbled, only for Kars to move his hands over your own and help you pull off the cloth, finally revealing himself to you. Although you had seen it many times before, Kar’s cock was still a magnificent sight to behold. It was larger than anything you had ever seen, with just the right curve. You had always taken into account the veins on the thing, gulping at the sight. While that sort of thing wasn’t necessarily pretty, it did look good on Kars. 

“Admiring the view, little one?” He teased, leaving you just to pout as you tore your eyes away from him. 

“Maybe. I don’t think that you mind too much though.” You replied, leaning forward to crawl on top of your lover, only for him to press his hand against your chest, just pushing you gently back down into the soft bed below you.

“Don’t worry, my dear. Let me take care of you. I want to show you how much I adore you, I want to show how much you belong to me…” You could hear his voice lower at the end of that sentence, causing you just to shudder. God, Kars really did know how to keep you submissive. Even though you wanted to argue, to tell Kars that he had worked hard enough for you and it was your turn to repay him, you spread your legs wider, looking up at him lovingly. Kars hummed as he grabbed your hips, angling them up before grabbing one of the many pillows that adorned your shared bed, moving it under your hips to hold you up. He smiled as you like out a whine once his cock rubbed up against your entrance, happy to hear you needed him so badly.

“Now now, you know you need to tell me what you want, little one. I can’t just read your mind.” Kars purred. You just gulped before opening up your mouth. Usually, you would draw out this little sequence more, but you already just wanted him so badly, wanted to feel Kars and make him feel as good as he just made you.

“K-Kars… Please, fuck me… I want you so badly…” You told him, and that was all he needed to start slowly pressing into you, letting out the slightest of groans as he listened to the music of your own mewling. He could already feel you squeezing down on him, your body trying to bring him ever closer as you did your best to just and adjust to Kars’ size. No matter how well prepared you were, there was always a slight sting when he entered you, just proving how massive he really was.

“So tight, little one… I can feel your body squeezing down on me so needily… Do you really want me that badly? Want me to show you who you belong to, who loves you more than anything?” Kars growled, and you could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. His claw-like nails were starting to dig into your hips, leaving you just to gasp and moan, nodding eagerly. You were more than ready for whatever Kars had in store.

“Y-Yes, please, Kars, I love you too, love you so much!” Your voice was quite reedy at this point, but it was still one of the best things Kars had ever heard. He pulled back slowly, pulling his cock out of you until just the tip remained inside, before pushing back in slowly, taking a slow but passionate pace with you. You moaned as Kars cock dragged against the best spots inside of you, pressing up inside of you so deeply that when you looked down, you could see your stomach bulging. You slowly moved your hand down to feel over the bump, moaning a bit as Kars just licked his lips at the sight, relishing in the sight of you so in awe of his obvious prowess. Of course you should be in awe of him. It was only natural.

“You’re so pretty like this, little one. Does it feel good? Heavens, you fit me like a glove…” Kars words in your ear seemed to float in your brain for a moment before truly settling. It was like you could barely put together a real thought as you felt Kars gently fuck into you, any sense or reason you had completely gone. 

“Y-Yessss… Feels so good, Kars, please…” You mewled out, letting yourself pull Kars closer as he moved back to pressing kisses on your face and neck. He tried to be gentle, but occasionally he couldn’t help himself and nipped, secretly relishing in the surprised yelp you always let out when he did.

“I love you, you know. I love you more than anything.” Kars told you, and you could feel his thrusts start to speed up just the tiniest bit. You grabbed onto your lover, adjusting slightly so that you could wrap your legs around him and bring Kars ever closer. The look Kars gave you could only be described as utter adoration, complete worship of your self not only as a person, but an entity, something he could cherish for eternity, even when the eventual loss of everything happened at the end of the universe. You were real, you were you, and you were beautiful.

“Love you too, Kars. I love you so much, I want to be with you forever…” You mumbled out. While it was hard for you to put together a real thought at this point, the words that you did give were genuine. You truly couldn’t imagine a life without Kars, nor could he ever go back to one without you. You were interlinked through your love. Perhaps this is what people meant when they described the concept of soulmates. You supposed you would never truly know. 

Still, the two of you felt yourselves nearing orgasm. Though no words were said, you could easily tell Kars was through his rougher, less steady thrusts and the way his nails were digging into your hips enough to draw blood.

“God, want to fill you up, little one. Want you to be all mine, want to, want you…” Kars growled, leaving you just to rapidly nod as you leaned in, attempting to clumsily press your own kisses against your lover.

“Y-Yes, please, Kars, all yours, already yours, please, I love you, I love you so much!” You whined, Kars eventually catching your lips and pulling you into an intense kiss as he bottomed out inside of you, brushing harshly against your sweet spot to finally bring you over the edge. You moaned as your body clamped down on Kars, your squeezing enough to bring Kars over the edge, swallowing up his sounds as your tongue interlocked with his. You felt the warm heat inside of you, moaning as you realized that Kars was easily cumming enough to cause your stomach to distend. Kars just held inside you, relishing in the kiss as his cock began to soften inside, before finally pulling out. You almost immediately let yourself collapse on the bed, Kars happily falling down with you and greedily pulling you into his arms. 

“Love… You…” You mumbled, already letting yourself bury your face into your lover’s chest. You felt rapidly cooling cum begin to spill out of you, and god did you cringe. That was going to be a bitch to clean. Problems for the future you. For now, you let Kars just pull you into his embrace, to hold you tight as he let a hand run through his hair.

“I love you too, little one. Know that I will always protect you. That you will always be worthy of being in my embrace like this..” He told you, watching as you began to drift off in his arms. He smiled at the knowledge that you were his, that you really were here, and that nothing could take you away. There was nothing left to stand in his way to build a paradise with his darling, in a world that he could finally control.

And he closed his eyes, Kars basked in both the heat of the sunrise peering through the curtains, and of the person he cared about most resting in his arms.