#its like.... what that random line above their head is supposed to be an eyebrow??? w ac k

[godlizzza]

prompt: teen danbert, dan getting territorial over herbert?

"You know, sometimes I think about how lucky we are," Dan said.

Herbert, mid-bite into his apple, raised an eyebrow at him. They were sat, hidden from view, beneath the bleachers. Candy wrappers and cigarette butts littered the ground from the group of punk kids Dan knew liked to hang there often, but that day the space was clear. Dan liked the little hint of privacy the bleachers gave them, so he could sit close to Herbert without suspicion.

"Lucky how?" Herbert asked, chewing.

"That we, y'know, found our way together?" Dan prompted, feeling embarrassed, but he'd started this line of talking and now he had to see it through. "Like, the odds of the only two not-straight guys in the school finding each other's gotta be something, right?"

Herbert laughed, loud and sudden. "You think we're the only two 'not-straight' guys in school?"

Dan stared at him, feeling a little self-conscious at Herbert's mocking tone. "You don't think we are?"

"I know we're not."

"What? How?"

"Dan," Herbert sighed, as though he were an old master, imparting wisdom on an ignorant disciple. "When you're widely suspected of being gay, as I am, boys will come to you."

It took Dan a moment to grasp the implications of what Herbert was saying. When he did, a cold prickle ran up his spine. 

“Guys have...hit on you?” His voice came out surprisingly low to his own ears.

Herbert shrugged, seeming more concerned with his lunch than random boys approaching him. “I’m not trying to flatter myself or anything. I doubt they’re interested in getting to know my sparkling personality. They’re just looking for a willing subject to experiment with.”

“And have you?” Dan demanded. When Herbert cast a quizzical look at him Dan swallowed down some of his rising jealousy and clarified, “Have you ever experimented with any of those guys?”

Herbert scrunched up his nose with distaste. “Of course not.” His tone turned incredulous as he tipped his chin down, his glasses slipping along the bridge of his nose. “Dan. You know you’re the first and only guy I’ve ever done anything with. Do you really think I’m so randy that I’m running around with boys who only want to take a ride on the other side?” Dan knew he was sulking and Herbert shook his head, snickering. “Those are the same guys that’ll shove me and call me names the next day.”

“Which guys?” Dan pressed, sliding close enough to curl his hand around Herbert’s leg, stroking at his inner thigh, just above the bend of his knee.

Herbert watched his hand with a knowing look, and smiled to himself. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Dan argued. “If guys are hitting on my boyfriend, I think it matters.”

“They don’t know that’s what I am though,” Herbert replied, eyes twinkling impishly.

Dan pursed his lips, stewing in this for a moment, before wrapping his other arm around Herbert’s waist and pulling him onto his lap. Herbert squawked, twisting in Dan’s grip until he was facing him, straddling his hips. Dan kept his hands planted on Herbert’s hips and Herbert rested his open palms on Dan’s chest. He was looking at Dan like he thought he was ridiculous, but Dan barrelled on.

“Which guys?”

Herbert sighed dramatically. “If you insist- Paul, for one.”

Dan just stared at him. “You’re kidding. Paul Bowman? The same Paul I’ve been playing baseball with since fifth grade?”

“There’s only one Paul in our year, Dan,” Herbert droned.

Dan laughed with disbelief. Paul had always been a real charmer, able to coax girls to him like moths to a flame. The idea that he of all people would be harbouring a secret attraction to men was...ludicrous. Then again, he supposed one might view his own situation in the same light. 

That sobering thought banished his bewilderment, leaving only a sour possessiveness in its wake. He imagined Paul approaching Herbert with his confident swagger, pulling him aside where no one could hear. How had he propositioned him? Was he coy or did he jump straight to the point, and invite Herbert somewhere the two of them could be alone to...experiment?

Dan ground his teeth together at the thought. He’d never conceived that he’d have to worry about other people chasing after Herbert, but apparently he was the hot destination of all the closet cases in Arkham. 

“I can’t believe it,” Dan muttered. “That asshole. I hope you told him to go kick rocks.”

“Something like that,” Herbert hummed, stroking a hand up Dan’s neck to tangle in his hair. “I have to say, I kind of like you like this. You’ve never shown me your jealous side before.”

He was smiling, his whole face lit up with gleeful delight, like Dan’s jealousy was the most delicious thing in the world. It both irritated and pleased Dan. Irritating him that Herbert would get some kind of sick satisfaction out of watching him squirm and pleasing because it was making him press close and watch him hungrily.

“It’s a good thing, too,” Dan told him, hugging him close. “If this keeps going I’ll lock you up and keep you all to myself.”

“I’d fall so behind on classes,” Herbert argued coyly.

“I’ll write you an absence note,” Dan promised.

They stayed wrapped up like that until the bell rang. After that Dan kept a watchful eye on Herbert, looking out for Paul or any other guys that came sniffing around. He wasn’t sure what he could do to keep them away without outing himself other than just act extremely unfriendly towards them. Hopefully, they’d get some semblance of the picture.

He was Herbert’s sweetheart. No one else.

[arunningjoke]

i feel like two would be touch starved

[junko-and-riri-domain]

five hearts on the line | pjs

↬ series: tatts & cupcakes | chapter 14 ↬ pairing: park jongseong / jay x reader ft. all members + i-land k ↬ genre: enhypen single dad au | ceo!jay | single dad!jay | baker!reader | single mom!reader | fluff | slight angst ↬ navi: beginning | previous chapter | next | series masterlist ↬ warnings: some angst ↬ word count: 2.1k ↬ a/n (1/2):

i know that i said last chapter that this one wouldn’t be as angsty but then i started writing and it sorta just happened? so there’s some angst in this one (forgive me again my loves 🥺)

Hope was never a plan, only a direction. After all, you could hope for money and with that hope make a plan to get it. Or you could hope for your parent’s approval but actually getting it was a different process for everyone. Jay had hoped for a future with you and Ni-ki, he really did. It was the direction he saw the rest of his life going towards, you and him as the parents of three boys. He knew it was foolish of him to hope of such things when so much chaos had happened and it was still too early since you never actually put a label on the relationship, hence, why he was going to ask the “what are we?” question that night.

17 days, 20 hours, and 30 minutes was how long it had been since you last saw each other face to face. But who was counting? At this point, he was entering himself into self-given heartbreak and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The scent of your shampoo still lingered on the fibers of his pillowcase but he couldn’t bring himself to wash it away. When he closed his eyes he could still feel your head resting on his chest and your fingers trailing random patterns on his arms. Some days it seemed like he could still hear Ni-ki’s giggles mixed in with Sunoo and Jungwon’s. The boys were doing ok, they still talked to each other at school, and Jay would bring them to the bakery if they wanted something. But he no longer went inside. He’d tell his boys that he needed to take a call or send a quick email and instead would wait for them in the car but really, he was just too scared to see you because he knew that the second he saw you he’d fall back in love all over again. Or maybe that love never left and he’d instead be forced to acknowledge its existence. The door to his office opening brings Jay out of his thoughts, sounds of excitement from his sons greeting his ears.

“Thanks, man,” he said to Jake with a small smile. This situation felt familiar to him and it didn’t take long for him to realize that it was because the first time he heard about you was when Jake brought the boys to his office and you defended him against Minjoo’s grandmother.

“Can we sleepover at Ni-ki dongsaeng’s place tomorrow?” Jungwon asked. Tomorrow was Saturday meaning that he’d drop off the boys Saturday morning, see you, leave, pick up the boys Sunday morning, see you, and leave again.

“I’ll text his mom tonight.”

Later that night after the boys were put to bed and he was laying in his, he found himself constantly typing and deleting what he had initially written out. To his surprise, you had texted him first with a simple “hey” to which he responded the same. While sorting out the details of tomorrow, Jay couldn’t help the slight happiness filling him now having a reason to talk to you again.

You couldn’t really place a name on the feelings coursing through your veins when you woke up on Saturday morning. Nerves, slight anxiousness, maybe even fear? While you were glad to be able to spend time with Sunoo and Jungwon, seeing Jay was a different story. The thought of seeing him again left you restless which led to constantly tossing and turning in bed, ultimately resulting in a sleepless night. When the morning came, you heard a knock on your door and upon opening it the boys greeted you before quickly rushing to Ni-ki’s room, leaving you alone with Jay. He looked like a mess, hair slightly messy, eyes somewhat bloodshot red, and lips chapped dry. You probably didn’t look any better either.

“Are you ok?” Upon saying it you realized what a dumb question it was. Only a little over two weeks had passed and two weeks wasn’t nearly enough to get over what happened. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get over it.

“Still processing, you?” Jay replied.

“Yeah, same here.” There was a sort of longing look in Jay’s eyes. That kind that told you he felt as if he wanted to say something but chose not to.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” was all his reply before leaving.

Spending the day with three boys like Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki meant that they were eager to do whatever it was that you had planned for them. You had decided to try out new cake recipes and in the process using them as your little helpers and taste testers. While it did result in the boys getting cake mix all over their clothes and a little on their faces, their smiles of happiness and giggles of joy were well worth the cleanup after. When night came and you were tucking the boys into bed, you felt a hand grab yours. Seeing that it was Sunoo’s, you smiled,

“What’s up, bubs?”

“I don’t want Appa to pick us up tomorrow, I wanna stay with Eomma.”

“Eomma?” you asked. He nodded with a pout,

“Minjoo said that living together makes you a family and we lived together which makes you our Eomma, not our Noona! But because you and Ni-ki left he said you and Appa got divorced and you chose Ni-ki instead of me and Jungwon.” Tears started to fall from Sunoo’s eyes as he continued, “Wae, Eomma? Can’t you keep me and Jungwon-ah too?”

“Sunoo, I…” what were you even supposed to tell him? This was a conversation you shouldn’t be having with just the boys alone, after all, Jay needed to be here since they were his boys. Jungwon ended up waking up and crying too at the sight of his hyung crying which led to a confused Ni-ki. As you hugged the boys and rubbed their backs, your ears were met with blubbers of “Eomma” and “Eomma stay.” You didn’t know how long it took for them to calm down and finally head to sleep but once they did, you knew that you needed to talk to Jay now. Your hand trembled a little when holding your phone but as you heard Jay’s voice, you felt somewhat calmed.

“Everything ok?” he asked, sounding like he had just woken up. Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding,

“Can you come over?” Hearing some shuffling from his side of the line,

“I’m on my way.”

When Jay got to your apartment it was nearing midnight. Without thinking, your hand took his and you led him to your room so that the boys wouldn’t wake up. Looking up at him,

“We need to talk.” He brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously,

“I figured.”

“Sunoo and Jungwon called me eomma.” Jay’s eyes went wide,

“They what?”

“Minjoo, remember the kid with the nosey grandma?” you looked at him and saw him nod then continued, “He told the boys that living together makes you a family. Since me and Ni-ki lived with you guys that led them to the conclusion that I shouldn’t be called Noona, I’m their Eomma. Because Ni-ki and I don’t live with you anymore they thought we got divorced and that I chose Ni-ki over them. Jay, what do we do?” Silence washed over the room as Jay furrowed his eyebrows until finally,

“I lied,” Jay said. Looking at him confused you wanted to ask what had he lied about but he continued, “the night that your mom called. I lied and I’ve been regretting it ever since,” he finished. You racked your mind trying to remember what went on before your mom called and then you remembered. It was the conversation you two had about “like-liking” each other. He had lied then?

“W-what?” you can’t stop the stutter that escapes you as your mind tries to process that Jay lied to you.

“I lied.”

“That night, you asked me if I like-like you and I said yes. But I didn’t because what is this, high school?”

“Oh.” It came out just barely above a whisper out of millions of words to exist in the world, “oh” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say.

Was it a lie every time he called you love?

Was it a lie whenever he’d hold your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze?

Was it a lie the nights he’d run his hands through your hair and talk about how happy he was you were with him?

Had you been led on this entire time?

Then you couldn’t but think that maybe it was karma.

You didn’t think about how Sunoo and Jungwon would be affected with your presence there only for it to be gone after a few weeks.

You didn’t think about how to explain to Ni-ki the whole situation with K and instead downplayed it.

You didn’t think at all because you were too damn caught up in feeling.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping.

Jay’s next words are enough to get you out of your thoughts and back to reality. As they make themselves known to your ears, your eyes are near to tears.

“I lied because how the hell was I supposed to tell you that I love you?”

“Jay, you can’t be serious? Y-you can’t just love me!”

“I didn’t,” he sighed and brought his hand up to rub his forehead, “I didn’t say it just to hear it back from you. But we both know there’s no damn way we’ll ever go back to being normal or just friends because we never were in the first place.” Jay was right and you knew it. If anything you wanted to laugh a little at how foolish it was for the two of you to just somehow develop feelings so early on after meeting each other. Though neither of you had actually said the l-word out loud until Jay did just now, you had felt it in so many ways. It was exchanged in all the stolen glances and late-night cuddles. It was there the mornings you and Jay rushed to get the boys to school and the nights they’d plead for “just one more” bedtime story. It lingered on through the hopes you had for what one day could be your future like surprise visiting Jay’s office during lunchtime and bringing food using the excuse of, “I tried some new recipes and wanted you to taste it before I sold it,” or even one day having the privilege of being called Sunoo and Jungwon’s mom. But those were fleeting moments and hope wasn’t a plan, it was merely a direction.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you muttered.

“Give us a chance.”

“What happens if we break up, Jay? What happens if Won and Sunoo want to stop by the bakery for some cupcakes but they can’t because you and I can no longer face each other? What happens when it’s not just you and I heartbroken, it’s the kids too? There are five hearts on the line here.”

“And I’ll do everything in my power to protect each and every one of them.”

“What happens if you can’t?” You felt Jay hold your hand and after missing his touch for so long, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“What happens when I can? What happens when this lasts just like I believe it will? What happens when,” you feel his thumb rub your ring finger and hear him take in a deep breath as he continues, “I put a ring on this hand and the two of us are facing each other at the altar? What happens when the five of us are taking trips to Brunei and Japan in the summer and all the other places we wanna explore together?” You wanted to believe Jay, wanted to one day fulfill all of the things that he talked about. But you couldn’t put this want into words and instead chose to answer him through action. Bringing a hand up to his shirt collar you pulled him closer to you and met his lips with yours. Unlike your first kiss with Jay or the brief ones you exchanged from time to time that were filled with passion, this one was filled with possessiveness. You could feel it in how his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest as if he were scared that you’d fall into a black hole if he let go. You displayed it in how one hand of yours clung onto his shirt while the other cupped his face in hopes of keeping him here. Hope was never a plan, only a direction. But as you close your eyes breathing in Jay’s scent and reveling in the taste of him, you were desperately wishing this would be the right direction.

↬ a/n (2/2):

the end. JKJK this chapter isn’t the finale it’s the next one & i have no clue how i’m gonna wrap this story up-

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul ) | next | series masterlist

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[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

���I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

random dates with jujutsu kaisen characters

ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, zenin maki, inumaki toge, nanami kento, and gojou satoru

g/n!reader (except maybe for maki but that's more personal pref)

itadori yuuji - "hey!-", you were essentially muted as itadori plops a strawberry in your mouth. you bite down, wrinkling your nose up at him in fake upset. he just smiles and laugh, as you drop the pout and laugh with him. you two were on a picnic, drinking lemonade and watching the hours melt away into the sunny sky. currently, you two were demolishing a carton of strawberries, the green tops abandoned on a plate next to you. you swallowed, relishing the sweetness lingering on your tongue.

taking one last berry, itadori reclined and sprawled on the blanket while putting his hands behind his head. you laid down on the blanket next to him, placing your head on his chest. he glanced down at you and took one of your hands in his, his thumb starting to trace gentle circles on your palm. with your free hand, you pointed up to the clouds in the sky. "that one looks like a bus," you suggested. "mmm, i think it looks like a log," he responds. "that one looks like a cat." "i think it looks like a log." "ok, that one looks like a tree." "mmmmmmm i think it looks like a log," he says again. "yuuji, you think all of them look like logs," you say. you can feel his laugh bubbling in his chest as he says, "because all of them do look like logs." he points up at the sky at different clouds, "that one does....and that one does....i think these are actually all logs in disguise." you playfully swat his hand and turn your head up at him, saying, "you need to use your imagination a bit. if you're only looking for logs, all you're going to find is logs."

instead of responding, itadori shifts forward and captures your mouth in soft kiss. you respond, pushing your lips against his in a sweet dance. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss. his hand has slipped out of yours and now is on the small of your back, pushing you closer into him. he smiles into the kiss, pausing. "what?" you ask, temporarily affixing your head above his. "nothing," he responds, "i just hope we can stay like this for a little while longer."

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fushiguro megumi - he's is nursing a cup of black tea in a porcelain cup and saucer, while he chews on a black ballpoint pen. fushiguro is in a cafe across the street, but you can see him through the window. as you walk in, the bell above the door jingles and he glances up at you. he smiles and clears a pile of papers, making room for you at the table. you sit down across from him, noticing that he's already ordered a cup of tea and a croissant for you.

"hey 'gumi. what'cha up to?" you ask, lifting the cup to your lips. "working on this latest batch, but it's tough. did you bring your stuff?" he asks. you pull out a small notebook, untying the ribbon that holds the pages shut. "of course i did, i want your feedback on my latest poems," you respond. "this is the most recent one i wrote." in the garden of my mind/you sink my heart into my soul/blooming into something unknown/glassy eyes speaking of that garden untold is what you hand to him. he furrows his brow as he reads over the lines, once, twice, three....ohmygod how many times is he going to read it? is it bad??? you catch your lip between your teeth as you wait for his critiques, anxiously tapping your fingers against the table. finally, he looks up to you. "i like the use of garden as a metaphor, but i think you could expand on it more. it's a short poem so i know you don't have much room, but i'm really fixed on this idea of a garden. what grows there? who takes care of it?" he questions. his brows is still furrowed and you can practically see the wheels turning behind his poofy hair.

you smile over at him saying, "well, megumi i think you already know the answer to your questions." he blushes and looks out the window. the wheels are turning in his head again, but for a different reason. you know fushiguro isn't exactly the greatest with his feelings, so you give him a minute. he still gets flustered when you even allude to loving him, it's so removed from his own view of himself that he needs to take a minute to process. in the meantime, you rip off a fluffy piece of croissant and feel the buttery layers melt on your tongue. you look out the window, quietly drifting off to another world. "did you want to read my poem?" he asks, snapping you back to reality. you nod, picking up the piece of paper he passes you. your eyes focus on the first line: i love you.

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kugisaki nobara - you love nobara, you honestly do, but sometimes you forget about that when she gets in a yelling match with the man at the ice cream truck. you're pulling your hat over your head, hoping to spontaneously melt into a puddle while the two of them go back and forth. "i don't know what you want me to say! i'm sorry i gave the wrong flavor to them, but i can't change it," the vendor says exasperatedly. nobara wrinkles up her nose in disgust at the vendor, retorting, "this business is absolutely shameful. i come all the way here for ice cream, and you can't even properly fulfill my order. what if i reported you to the better business bureau? hmmm? would you be a bit more cooperative then?"

yeah, it's been going on like this for a few minutes. you think you're going to evaporate into thin air when you realize the arguing has stopped and nobara is on her way back. and...omg...she's holding a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone!! you immediately perk up. "you got it!" you exclaim, quickly taking the cone from her. you take a bite (do you bite ice cream???? lick??? v unsure), and faux-swoon at how good it is. forgetting your previous embarrassment, you swiftly press a kiss to nobara's lips as a thank-you. "thank you nobara, this was so sweet of you!" her face deeply reddens, every ounce of toughness from the earlier altercation dissipated. she tosses her hair, trying to play it off. "oh, you know, it wasn't difficult. you just had to ask nicely." you smile at her, suddenly wanting to pay her back for the embarrassment she dealt you before.

before she can react, you quickly leave a flurry of kisses all over her face. you zing from her cheeks to her nose to her lips to her forehead and back around so fast it makes her dizzy. if you thought she was red before, she's somehow gone an even deeper shade of brick. now she's the one pulling her hat down over her head. "y/n!! cut it out, we're in public!" she hisses at you, but there's no real venom behind it. "sorry, i couldn't help it. you just looked too pretty to resist," you say, and start walking toward the city. even through the brim of her hat, nobara can see you walking away. before catching up, she's rooted in place wondering how on earth she got so lucky.

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zenin maki - "y/n, i look stupid. can i take this off?" you smile at her, only your head sticking out from your door. "nope!!," you gleefully respond. maki stands outside your room with an annoyed look and crossed arms, wearing the maid outfit you dropped off at her house this morning. you quickly close the door and speedily drag your socks up your thighs and tuck the matching headband into your hair. admiring yourself in the mirror one last time, you opened the door and shyly step out in your own maid outfit. "how do i look?," you say, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

maki.pdf has crashed. her eyes flick up and down your body, a slight blush forming on her pearlescent cheeks. you note her silence and flounce over to her. tucking your hands behind your back and rocking on your heels, you lean forward. "maaaaaaaaki," you languish in her name, dragging out the syllables. "cat got your tongue?" she snaps back to the real world, a coy smile on her lips. she moves swiftly, and before you know it she's pressed up against you with a hand on your lower back and the other hand tilting your chin up at her. "of course not, darling, but i wouldn't mind getting yours," she says, gently stroking her thumb over your lips. you momentarily flush, a pretty pink haze spreading over your face. you wiggle out of her hold and kiss the tip of her nose, before dashing down the hallway.

confused, maki watches as you return with...a broom. "c'mon! maids clean, don't they?" you say as you hand her the broom. maki bemusedly watches as you pull out a rag and a can of pledge. "y/n. you called me here, with a maid outfit, so we could clean your house?" she ask. "yep!". oh my. maki watches as you spray chemicals over the table, then polish it clean with the rag. fuck it, she starts sweeping your hallway. "am i even going to get anything out of this?", whining, she stops sweeping. you pause and smile. "of course maki. after all, i have to pay you for your services." maki smirks at you, resting her hands and head on top of the broom. "oh? and what would that be?" she says, raising her eyebrows. "anything you want." maki's smirk deepens, and she goes back to sweeping. "and if i want you?" you too go back to your cleaning. "well, in that case, i suppose you have to do a really good job of cleaning."

your house has never looked cleaner.

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inumaki toge - you dip your paintbrush into the water, swirling it around and making sure it was clean before dipping it into bubblegum-colored paint. inumaki sits on the other side of you, though part of him is obscured by his easel. you would have asked him to move a few hours ago, but luckily you were almost done painting him. the sun was starting to set, so the colors of the setting were changing a bit but you were sure inumaki wouldn't care too much if you took some artistic liberties. you added the pink streaks in the clouds, trying to fluff them up as much as possible and make them look sweet. you frowned as you went a bit too far, having to clean your paintbrush and then touch up the painting with white.

finally, a few more mistakes and fixes later, you think you're satisfied with your work. it was a portrait of inumaki, sitting on his artist's stool with the blue sky and green hill in the background. a few hours ago it would have been an almost perfect rendering of the scene, save for the fact that you decided to paint him without his trademark collar over his face. you happened to love the seal on his face and tongue, but his covering of it made him more insecure about it as time went on. as he got used to seeing his face without it, he wondered if it would just be better if he didn't have a seal on his face at all. now he barely pulls down his collar, only ever to shout out cursed speech commands. "toge can we see each others' paintings now?" you ask. "okaka!" he responds. you sigh and say, "okay, let me know when you're done." you continue to add a few more cursory details until you hear "takana!" from the other easel. you poke your head around, asking, "do you want me to go first?" inumaki nods, and gets up.

you hold your breath as he walks over to survey your work. you feel him stop behind you and just...stare. no tsunamayo, no sujiko, not even an okaka. "what do you think?" you ask. he says nothing, and just points to his painted mouth. you look at him and feel a little bit crushed; he doesn't look angry or anything, but rather a little deflated. "are you upset i painted the curse seal?" you ask him. he responds with a slightly desolate "okaka" and your chest clutches a little bit. you wanted to show him how pretty he was with the seal, but you supposed you would have to go a bit further. "toge can you come a little closer?" he complies and moves right next to you. you quickly jump off the stool and clasp his face in your hands. slowly, you pull down his collar, revealing the seal. you hold his gaze for a moment longer, and then gently press kisses along the surface of the curse. you make sure to touch every angle, feeling the heat of his skin rise each new time your lips touch the curse. you pull your head back and say, "i think the curse seal is pretty. the way it curves along your cheek is just gorgeous, it's such a rich shade of black, and it looks the best when i see you smile. but most of all, you make it look pretty. i like the curse seal because it's a part of you." inumaki softly smiles when he hears this, and just wraps you up into a hug. you two stay like that for a minute or two, interrupted only by "can i see your painting of me now?" "shake."

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nanami kento - you two are at home in the kitchen. normally you both take turns cooking and cleaning, but tonight you decided to make dinner together. nanami is cutting up vegetables for your curry, while you focus on cooking the chicken in the sauce. soft music plays while a delicious aroma fills the room. nanami finishes cutting up the vegetables, neatly zooshing them into the pan with the knife. you add coconut milk and spices, stirring as the sizzling gets loud, and then gently recedes into a soft bubbling. you watch the pan carefully as nanami shifts behind you, wrapping his arms around your front. his face rests on your shoulder as you both watch the pan bubble away.

he gently bites your ear, asking, "how was your day?". your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, sighing contently. "fine. i was a bit busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. how was yours?". nanami sighs, the air lusciously dancing around your ear. "mmmmmm...annoying. or, more aptly, gojou was." you laugh, imaging all the ways the he could have been a nuisance. "is that so?," you say. "yes, but i don't want to dwell on it. work is work, and i'd rather focus on my time outside of it," nanami says. "like focusing on you," he breathes into your ear. he gently spins you around so that you're facing him, and pulls you closer to his body. he wraps his arms around your back, and you wrap your arms around his neck. you two begin to softly dance to the music, not even moving from the spot you're currently in. it's not perfect dancing by any standards; in fact, you think you're off-beat. still, with nanami humming in your ear and such a comforting aura surrounding you, you don't really think it matters.

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gojou satoru - for once, you two aren't running around and acting crazy. instead, you've just woken up to rain pattering on the window and cloudy skies overhead. gojou is still asleep in bed, blindfold slipped over his face with his closed eyes revealed to the world. you smile, enjoying the sight. it's not often you two get time to just be together, with gojou being gone all the time, his students needing his attention, and your own life and responsibilities. you slip out of the room and into the kitchen, cutting up fruit and making coffee. you bring it back into the room, the smell waking up your drowsy boyfriend. crystalline eyes look up at you, filled with love and adoration. you sit on the bed as he sits up, passing him a plate and a mug.

"hey, i just had the craziest dream," he says, mouth full of raspberries. "oh? would you like to tell me about it?," you respond, sipping your coffee. gojou smirks at you. "well, normally i would say to never tell a bad dream before breakfast because that's the surest way to make it come true, but i don't believe in that, and anyways i could kick the dream curse's ass if it came to it. so, itadori is a woman, and sukuna keeps taking over to play with boobs, right?". he rambles on, and you think he's actually making some of this up on the fly, but it's entertaining and you don't want to interrupt him. he tells you the whole story, and by the end you've both finished your breakfast. you're still laughing at the part where inumaki is left at the alter by nobara chasing after maki, when he picks up your plate and mug and places it on the little table beside the bed.

"satoru, what are you-," you're interrupted as he swiftly pulls you into his lap, your back flush against his chest. confused, he hands you the book on the side table while he picks up a stack of reports. he opens them and starts reading, while you look at him in confusion. he apprehensively pauses and looks at you. "we don't get to have a lot of quiet time like this," he hesitantly explains, "so i thought we could just do something with each other, even if it's just reading. i have to read these reports and you wanted to finish that book anyway, so i thought we could start like this." he smiles down at you, and it's like he shoots warmth straight into your chest and fans it out to the tips of your fingers, toes, and eyelashes. you ghost his cheek with a kiss and burrow into his chest. "of course, 'toru. this is absolutely perfect." you feel his chest skip a beat through your skin, and try to hid your smile. you open your book while he resumes his reports, and bask in the comfort of shared love.

[justcourttee]

hiiiii i don't know if you take prompts or requests or anything, but would you maybe consider writing a sequel to A Moment Too Late? maybe with a happy ending? i love your writing!!

I tried for what I’ll call a happy-ish ending, but I hope you still enjoy it! 

*WARNING* This piece and part 1 mention attempted suicide and can be difficult for some. Please, please, please be sure you feel comfortable reading about this topic before clicking below the title. 

In The Nick of Time

Damian took his first step into the city of love at 4:00 pm.  

He had a general idea of where to begin, but the combination of no sleep and jet lag was taking its toll. He had tried reaching out to her several times on the flight over, but she ignored his every effort. It could have just been the fact that she was in her classes. She may have been suicidal, but maybe she still took her education seriously?

It wasn’t likely, but it helped put his mind at some ease, hoping he still had time. His first order of business was renting a car. Technically speaking, his father had a villa on the outskirts of the city with a multitude of cars to pick from, but seeing as no one knew where he was, he wasn’t eager to tip them off.

He gazed over the taxis lined up, eagerly looking to take advantage of the tourists piling out of the airport behind him. He didn’t want someone to eager, he just needed someone who looked on the brim of exhaustion. His eyes landed on a poor man propped against his car, his eyes drooping like Tim before his first cup of the day. Perfect.

“Excuse me sir, but I’d like to rent your car from you for the day.”

The man peeked one eye open as he glanced warily over Damian.

“Scram kid, it’s a package deal, me and my car. You can’t just rent one or the other-”

Damian smirked as the man snatched the bundle of money from his hand, popping off the taxi light that stood on top of his car. As Damian slipped into the driver’s seat, he motioned for the man to step back over.

“Here’s a couple of extra bills to catch yourself a taxi home.”

The man’s mouth gaped as if he was searching for air underwater. Damian didn’t even bother to see if he would step back from the curb as he pulled off. The one benefit of the agonizing six-hour flight was Tim’s laptop. Damian had managed to hack into each of the high schools around the city until he narrowed it down to three Marinette’s. After looking at approximate ages and distance, he assumed she had to be the first; one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Her family owned a bakery a little less than a mile from the high school and on the off chance she hadn’t stayed for any clubs or activities, she should be arriving there at any moment. Damian tapped the address into his phone ignoring the multitude of messages he had between his father and Dick.

It was a simple fifteen-minute drive from the airport.

Damian exhaled sharply as he sped down the exit. Fifteen minutes was enough time. It had to be enough time. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .

“Welcome to the bakery! Is there anything I can interest you to today?”

The woman’s face wore a mixture of fake smiles and exhaustion. It might’ve been enough to fool the average customer, but to Damian, she simply looked one gust of wind from collapsing.

“Uhm, I’m looking for Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Is she here?”

Instantly her fake smile dropped and the exhaustion settled into the creases of her face. There wasn’t even a hint of worry at the mention of her daughter’s name from a stranger’s mouth. It irritated him.

“Look, whatever she did now, we don’t have any money for a settlement. Maybe you can work out a deal with her, but we have nothing more to give.”

The woman offered him a half bow before pointing him to a small door at the back of the store. He assumed she meant for him to go through it and without another word, he stepped past her. As he made his way up the countless stairs, his irritation only grew.

He was well aware that there were parents out there indifferent to their children, but his soulmate wasn’t supposed to have one. She was always so happy and carefree when they were younger, abusing the bond whenever she could. He assumed it was because her parents had drilled into her that it was within her right too. But after that short interaction, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Finally, a white door came into view. Hesitantly, he reached out the knob twisting without resistance. Inside was a moderate flat with what appeared to be an attic access. As first impressions went, he thought it seemed like a warm and gentle place to grow up in. Very different from the windowless stone building he began in.

He slipped out of his shoes, placing them beside a pair of light pink ballet flats before taking his first step. Someone was home and by the looks of it, it should be his soulmate. Damian contemplated on whether to call out or not. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he thought it might be worse if he just opened random doors instead. Finally, he settled on attempting their soulmate link once more.

“Marinette? Are you there?”

There was no answer, but he couldn’t be sure if that was just the continued strike from his earlier efforts. Tentatively, he took another step forward, his eyes scanning the apartment. It was pretty much an open concept, so he could see everything quite easily. The only thing that eluded him was the staircase leading above.

That had to be where she was.

“Marinette? That’s how you pronounce your name, right?” Damian sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to hit himself. No matter how he intended it, he sounded like he was some stalker here to kidnap her. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just wanted to talk.”

It didn’t sound any better. Maybe he should've stuck with a gentle introduction through their bond. Speaking out loud only reminded him how terrible he was with people. Animals were easier. Everything that needed to be said could be expressed through body language.

Biting the bullet, he decided it couldn’t get any worse than barging straight up the staircase into the attic. As he pushed open the access, the first thought that crossed his mind was-

“A mess,” clothes were strewn across the floor, remnants of paper scattered within the piles. The walls were a soft pink at one point, but it looked as if someone had taken a paint scraper to them, mere flakes hanging on by a thread. For such a well-put-together apartment, the room almost seemed abandoned.

Pulling himself into the room, Damian left his legs to dangle, his toes longing for the security of the stairs just below him. It didn't seem that she was in here either. He remembered passing another floor, perhaps that was also part of their apartment? Just as he decided to plant his feet back onto the sturdy steps, his fingers brushed over one of the scraps of paper he had seen earlier.

Instinctively, he pulled his hand away from the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. Damian was fairly certain that wasn’t how paper should feel. Reaching back out, he gathered a few nearby scraps. Turning them over one by one, a picture began to form. A group of girls, all laughing completely lost in a moment of time. His curiosity bested him as he pulled himself into the room, gathering each of the scraps he could find.

A half dozen photos was all he could form by the time he collected the larger pieces. Most were group shots, but two were of a blonde guy. Upon further analysis, he determined that he was the son of the fashion dictator Gabriel Agreste. He had seen the boy at a couple of Bruce’s international parties.

Perhaps she thought he was attractive? After all, the photos seemed to be ripped from a magazine, unlike the other four. As he glanced around the room once more, he felt like he had finally found a straw to grasp at. A reason she dropped so far, so fast.

But as much as he gathered from her room, he still had no idea as to where she might be. Her shoes were at the door, but it didn’t seem as if she was anywhere in the apartment. Standing slowly, Damian took a step back toward the access he had entered through when a breeze tickled the back of his neck.

His entire body stiffened as his hand moved slowly to where he kept his emergency kunai.

“Is that you, Marinette? If so, you’re pretty good at masking your presence. I didn’t even sense you approaching.”

There was no response, but now that he knew she was there, it was easier to pick up on her shallow breathing. In one swift movement, Damian flicked his wrist backward, ducking to avoid any retaliation.

A soft grunt earned a glance backward, his eyes widening a bit at the sight. She hadn’t even tried to dodge it. Lodged into her right shoulder was his kunai, and just below it, centimeters away from her heart, was a pocket knife. A bright pink light blinded him and instinctively his arms darted out. When he could see again, a petite figure rested against his frame.

“Marinette?” She was unresponsive, a deep ruby dripping from her wounds. “Marinette!”

What was this panic he felt rising? He’d seen comrades die on the battlefield before, wounds more deadly than this. So why couldn’t he move? Logically, he knew he had to act fast, but his body wouldn’t inch.

“You’re her soulmate, right? Do something!” Damian’s head snapped up, but he couldn’t find where the voice came from. Whoever it was, it was enough to break whatever daze he had fallen into.

“Okay Marinette, I have basic medical training and I can patch you, slow the bleeding, but I can’t remove either blade. Do you understand? I’m going to have to move you, quickly and as stable as possible.” Her breathing was shallow, but her eyelids flickered in what he hoped was a response. As gently as her could, he lifted her into his arms, attempting to avoid moving either stab wound. Her soft grunt pulled at his heart. “Hold on a little longer Marinette, please, I need to apologize.”

The stairs were one agonizing moment after another and as he laid her into the backseat of his rented car, he felt winded himself. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Damian quickly pulled out his phone, cursing as it slid through his hands.

“Dammit, where did it fall?” He frantically searched, his heart rate rising with every passing moment. Was this the world’s way of punishing him? He killed and fought and argued every passing moment of his life. He pushed her away and now that he thought he was making a change, he could just waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened? He wasn’t going to make it.

“Just drive, I’ll guide you.” Had he finally lost it? It was the same imaginary voice he had heard before. Perhaps it was his subconscious, a guardian angel? Could he really trust it? “Drive boy, take a left at the stop sign.”

He couldn’t afford to wait another moment so he did what felt most logical; he drove. The drive was killing him, each painful breath becoming slower, a dagger to his heart as they escaped from her mouth.

“Just leave the car in the front, save my friend.” The only thing keeping him going was the voice.

Damian had barely parked, his feet already slamming on the pavement before the engine had stopped. Gathering her into his arms, he burst through the sliding doors, the fear rising in his throat.

“Help! I need help!” He knew his French was rusty, but he had to try. The nurse tentatively approached him, her gasp needing no explanation. A stretcher was rushed, and as they ripped her from his arms, Damian couldn’t help the anger he felt.

“Be careful with her! She’s going to die if they shift too much!” A security guard stepped over, his hands raised as if he meant to calm Damian. He took another step forward, trying to grip Damian’s arm. “What are you doing? I need to be with her! Marinette I’m right here! Can’t you hear me? I need you Marinette! Please don’t leave me!”

Damian watched as they placed the stethoscope on her chest, grim expressions hastening their step.

“Don’t look at her like that! Help her! Please!” It felt as if his lungs were collapsing, his vision blurring. Why was he reacting like this? He barely knew her. In fact, this was his first time ever seeing her.

“Sir, please calm down. They are treating your friend right now, the best thing you can do for her is sit and wait.”

The man led him to a couch where his legs finally caved, his back sinking into the chair. Damian lifted his hands to his face, wiping the tears he hadn’t even realized he had cried, but it only left his cheeks damper than before. Slowly, he pulled back his hands, his stomach plummeting. There wasn’t an inch of skin left uncovered by the red.

“Oh, oh,” Had he really not noticed how much blood she had lost? He was so focused on getting her here that he didn’t even consider if she would make it. “I thought I could make it, I thought I still had time.”

Damian recognized this feeling rising in his chest. It was the same as when he collapsed on the roof, the same as when he heard from her after so many years of silence. Was this what his mother meant by a soulmate bond being a distraction?

He had never understood why people took the insane challenge of fighting his Grandfather for a chance to leave the league in search of their soulmate. If he was honest, he thought it was a pointless endeavor and he couldn’t begin to imagine how someone believed they could pull it off. But, as his chest tightened with the rising waves of nausea, a realization washed over him.

A soulmate bond was so powerful that even if you just met them, you felt the need to protect them, to care for them. You became vulnerable for them, scared to lose them, terrified of how the world would be without them. It was a terrible weakness and a strong ally.

“Can you walk to the bathroom?” Damian felt his head stir, but it was as if it were being pulled by strings, out of his control. “I’ll explain everything if you could just meet me there.”

How could this voice be so all-knowing? Hadn’t it just surfaced from his subconscious as a way to kickstart his movement again? Yet, if that were the case, why did he find himself rising, stumbling toward the bathroom in a daze?

He slipped into the closest stall, collapsing against the door, the minute it locked. Why did he feel so drained? It was less than 500 feet.

“Do you need to sit down? I know that this must be hard on you.”

Damian’s eyes scanned the stall in search of a source for the voice, but alas, he came up with nothing. Sliding to the ground, he chuckled to himself, his hand clutching his shirt.

“I’ve finally lost it. Todd told me this day would come, but how could a dumbass like him even know?”

“You haven’t lost anything, I’m right in front of you, you just have to push through the veil.”

Damian perked up, squinting his eyes at the space directly in front of him. Slowly, but surely, his eyes focused on a red blur until the floating object came into full view.

“Holy shi-” Two paw-like things pressed his lips together, a disapproving look monopolizing its small face.

“Can you keep it down? And what’s with all this foul language? I can’t say I approve of you being my Chosen’s soulmate with a mouth like that.”

It floated a few inches away, crossing its arms as if trying to push the point across. Damian tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He was positive that he hadn’t had anything. Perhaps this was one of those sleepless hallucinations that Drake constantly rambled on about?

“I know that look, I’m not a hallucination, I’m a kwamii! My name is Tikki and I am Marinette’s partner. Together, we merge to become the superheroine of Paris, Ladybug.”

Ladybug? He had heard Bruce mention a Parisian team. They asked for any heroes to stay out of Paris as their villain was one that manipulated emotions, turning his victims into puppets of his own bidding. No wonder Bruce and Dick were blowing up his phone. They weren’t just worried about him running off, they were also worried about him breaking an international treaty.

Damian blinked slowly as he processed the image in front of him. Kwamiis. He had heard the legend of them back when he was apart of the League of Assassins, but he had no idea they truly existed. Why was his soulmate in possession of the most powerful being in the world?

“It’s a long story soulmate of the Chosen. I have traveled long and wide and have had many wielders before, but never one as capable as Marinette. When I first found myself as her partner, she was clumsy and shy, but so friendly and kind, always going out of her way to help people. Together, we defeated the original Hawkmoth, but in the battle, his kwamii was reclaimed by one of his partners and a new Lady Hawk emerged.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The kwamii shot him a questioning look as if the answer was obvious.

“I’m trying to give you the full picture of where it all began. You blame yourself as the catalyst, but you were only a small stepping stone in her downfall, almost not worth mentioning.”

Damian felt an odd swelling in his chest. It almost felt like, relief? Had he really been this worried that he had pushed her down this path? A lonesome tear trickled from his eye, but he was quick to snatch away.

“Marinette had friends, a boyfriend even. She wasn’t completely lost without a soulmate. After all, her parents weren’t soulmates, and her best friend was rejected by their soulmate too. She was happy.” The kwamii paused, her smile reminiscing before it slowly morphed into a frown. But it all changed when a wretched girl transferred into her middle school.”

“Just one girl changed everything?”

The kwamii nodded, small tears forming.

“She was the real catalyst. The reason everything fell apart.”

Damian lost track of how long he sat listening to the small God. When he stood to return to the waiting room, he couldn’t help but clench his fist in an attempt to calm himself. Marinette had to pull through, she just had to. Damian had to show her that there was more to life than this shitty one in Paris. He had to rescue her like his family had for him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was 36 hours before he was allowed back to see her.

She had been lucky, the knife had missed her vital organs and even though it had punctured her lung, she seemed to be on track for a full recovery, one that she needed to take slowly. Damian dealt with the police on her behalf and thanks to Tikki’s information, he was able to help them identify the mugger.

Tikki had gone ahead to talk to Marinette and to give him time to freshen up. He didn’t have much, but the little he had packed at least got him fresh clothing, clothing not stained with her blood. Alfred would not be happy with him once he returned.

Damian was unsure how to approach her. He had found some flowers in the gift shop he thought were nice and some chocolates as well. But as he stood in front of her hospital room, he realized he hadn’t figured out the first thing he should say to her.

I’m sorry? No, that sounded too arrogant after everything she had been through. My name’s Damian, I saved your life? No, that would be condescending. God, he really hated talking to people.

“Are you going to come in or just sit outside all day?” Her voice sent shivers down his spine. She hadn’t always been this cold, but he couldn’t blame her.

Hesitantly, he reached out, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. She looked angry, slight red emphasized on her pale skin, the dark circles under her eyes protruding as if they dared him to comment on them. There were a million and one wires and tubes poking out in different directions, some hooked to machines, some to random bags of fluid.

Yet, despite all of it, she still looked absolutely stunning.

“Well, sit down or something. You’re creeping me out just standing there.”

Damian shuffled awkwardly to the opposite side of her bed, his legs wobbling as he lowered himself into the chair.

“Uhm, I brought you some flowers-”

“I hate the color white.” Damian felt his eyebrow twitch, but he tried his best to hold back the expression he felt. Gently, he reached back, setting the flowers on the windowsill.

“I-Uhm-I also brought you some chocolat-”

“I’m on a liquid-only diet for the next two weeks.”

Damian could feel the red rushing to his face as he breathed deeply. He knew there was a chance that she would be spiteful, but he hadn’t been completely ready for it. His fuse was short, even if it was his soulmate, he wasn’t sure he could contain the explosion.

“Are you feeling any better?” Marinette scoffed, her eyes never leaving her hands.

“Did you fly all the way to Paris for small talk Damian?” He wasn’t sure how to respond, knowing his next words might be his last. “Ask what you really want to. Like why did I detransform before trying to face the mugger? Or why have I tried to kill myself multiple times even if each time ended in failure?”

“I-”

“Ask me why all my friends left me. Ask me why my master chose the easy way out, forgetting everything before passing on weeks later without even a single message about his death from him or his girlfriend. Ask me why I hate life so much that I just don’t see the reason in living anymore. Ask me if I think you’ll change my mind! Spoiler alert! You won’-”

“God woman, do you ever shut up? Give me five damn seconds to get my thoughts together.”

Damian instantly felt the eyes of Tikki fall upon him, the anger draining from his body only to be replaced by his rising fear. He felt the apology building up, but before he could even let the first word spill out, a bitter laugh cut him off.

“Yeah, I do shut up. But only sometimes. I figured Tikki told you everything. I also figured you’d have questions. I’m not interested in telling my sob story over again and I’m not interested in some knight in shining armor swooping in to save me, Got it?”

Damian tried to speak, but it was as if his voice were caught in his throat. What could he say to her? He wasn’t trying to be her knight? He didn’t need her explanations? Everything sounded so thoughtless, but he couldn’t string together one coherent and earnest sentence to save his life.

“What I am interested in is your nonsensical shouting. You ‘need me’? You just met me, how do you know that you need me?”

If he wasn’t already as red as a tomato, he was certain that was how he looked now.

“I,” he cleared his voice, praying to whatever was listening to keep the crack away, “I just had this feeling swell up in my chest seeing you like that. I was terrified and it scared me. It scared me to feel that way about someone who I had just laid eyes on. I had heard about soulmate bonds and how they affect you. They can strengthen you, but they can also be your downfall. I needed to get to know you, to know how our bond would affect me.”

He paused, the feeling of her eyes on him choking him up.

“I, uh, I know it’s selfish, but I couldn’t let you die. You don’t have to believe me, you don’t even have to listen to me, but I have been where you are before. But before I could even make my first attempt, I had a group of people come into my life, people who lifted me up and saved me. I was scared that you didn’t have that and I arrogantly believed I could do that for you. I’m truly sorry Marinette,  but I refuse to apologize for saving your life. If I could, I would do it over and over and over again as many times as it takes until you decide to keep living.”

The silence was deafening. Even if she just yelled at him and told him to leave, he would take it over this quiet. He didn’t dare look up, he barely felt the urge to breathe. It was as if everything fiber in him was holding their breath, waiting to hear her response, any response.

“You’re really not gonna leave me alone, huh?”

Her voice sounded tight as if she were holding back tears. The urge surged through him to reach forward and pull her into a hug, but he contained himself, defaulting to a simple nod instead. Again, the silence followed, but he was patient. He would wait all day if it meant hearing her speak again.

“Fine. I’m not guaranteeing a damn thing, but I can offer you a start.”

“A start?” Damian risked a small glance up, his heart racing at the sight. She was smiling, a genuine smile. It looked out of place among her tear-stained face, but he would be lying if he didn’t say it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Yeah, apparently I’m going to need someone to stay by my side 24/7 when they release me. Someone to take care of me. A stay-at-home nurse if you will. So, I nominate you, Damian. Your response?”

“Absolutely, it would be my honor.” His reply was instant, his smile unwavering even after she chucked her pillow at him, cussing him out in a manner that Todd would be proud of.

Yes, it was just a start. Yes, it didn't mean anything was fixed. But, there was one thing that put his heart at ease.

He wasn’t too late.

No, in fact, he was just in time to save her life. And at that very moment, he vowed to never wait till it was almost too late again.

Despite everything that had happened, he decided he could live with that.

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[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Christmas Figurines and Mistletoe | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Could you write something about being caught under the mistletoe with Damian Wayne? Fluffy and really mutty.

✦ warnings — nsfw, reader has a vagina, making out, vaginal sex, pouty Damian, jealousy if you squint, fluff.

✦ author’s note — I assumed anon meant smutty instead of mutty.

════════════════════════

Damian was driving you crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. You were regretting staying at Titan Tower instead of going Christmas shopping with your friends.

You had assumed they would need the bonding moment on their own. They would spend Christmas at the tower while you would do so at home, it was only fair.

The problem was that you didn’t think Damian would come to the tower so early. He had said he’d come by that evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Christmas party you all convinced him to throw.

He hated almost everything. And you were terrified of showing him the Christmas tree because it was... a lot.

Explaining to him that Christmas was supposed to be colorful and that meant things looking tacky here and there would be pointless. He had been clear on what he didn’t want to see.

Damian clenched his jaw as he stood in front of the tree. “Why are the lights off?”

“The Tower’s empty.”

“You are here,” he said drily. “What did you do?”

You immediately defended yourself, “I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t here when the tree was decorated. You sent Jon and me on that quick mission, remember?”

Damian grunted, nodding. To your horror, he lit the tree up himself. A strange sound spluttered from his throat, and he turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Damian, come on! It’s cheerful.”

“Who was the genius who decided that colorful lights and colorful ornaments were a good look?”

“I don’t know... Christmas trees come from a German tradition, and—“

He interrupted you, exasperated, “This specific tree!”

You shrugged. The tree had already been decorated when you came back, just like the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. Damian hated it, it looked cluttered according to him.

He picked a ceramic figurine and examined it. “This is the sloppiest paint job I’ve ever seen.”

“Most figurines come like that. Or with deformed faces.”

He placed it back in its place, turning around to examine you. “I find it interesting,” he mused, dragging his eyes to the microwave which was decorated by a Christmas themed microwave cover, “that you seem to know a lot about figurines and their flaws.”

“I didn’t buy them if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You bought Christmas mugs for everybody.”

“Yes, but I didn’t buy those!” Seeing him incredulously lift his eyebrows, you groaned. “Look, those figurines are common in most households. My mom loves them. That’s it, that’s how I know how flawed the come.”

“What will you do if I inspect your bedroom and more of those ugly things are there?”

You slanted your head, making a motion for him to exit the kitchen with you. “Come. Inspect it.”

You lead the way, more relieved than exasperated. He would drop it once he realized you didn’t have anything to do with it, he always did.

Before he could cross the kitchen’s doorway, Damian halted his steps behind you, grasping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You turned around, now confused.

He looked up to the top of the doorframe. His eyes stayed there and he remained silent which prompted you to look up too.

You shifted as mistletoe came to view. “I— I didn’t put that there... I didn’t even know somebody had bought it!” You attempted to move, hoping he would drop his hands. When he didn’t, you said, “I’ll get it off.”

Damian’s grip on your hips tightened. “Not following the tradition would bring us bad luck,” he explained with ease.

Your stomach flipped. Damian wasn’t superstitious.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you’re right.”

You half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘I’m always right,’ but instead, he slowly leaned in. You did the same, meeting him in the middle. His lashes brushed your skin when his eyes lidded closed, prompting yours to flutter.

He kissed you softly, taking his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong. You tentatively placed your hands on his arms, ever so slightly tilting your head.

Pulling away, you nervously watched him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, not helping your case and making you feel giddy as he gazed at you.

He brought you in for another kiss, resting his lower back against the counter. Damian swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth for him.

His pleased hum sent shivers down your spine. As if it wasn’t enough to have you breathless, his hands lightly wandered to your back. His touch and kiss didn’t match in rhythm, and it only drove you crazier.

One of his hands fell onto your ass, then the other. You instinctively pushed your hips forward, hands flying to his shoulders. He grasped your asscheeks in both hands and pulled your hips flush against his.

A low whimper left your mouth, going directly down his throat as he swallowed it by kissing you harder.

He pushed you back. Assuming he needed space, you withdrew your hands from his shoulders. Damian briefly frowned, yet his grip tightened on you as he tried a different approach by walking you backward instead of pushing you.

“I still need to inspect your room,” he said, voice low as he analyzed your reaction.

You didn’t trust your voice so you merely nodded. It would have been easier to walk to your room by yourself, or with his hands still on you but actually looking where you were stepping.

The thought of walking slowly so you could savor the weight of his hands on your body was tempting. But Damian hated wasting time. And slow walkers.

Your room was underwhelming in comparison to your teammates’, in part because you didn’t have time to decorate and in part because you didn’t know what to do with the empty wall near the window therefore you couldn’t make up your mind about anything else.

“You can open any drawer you want,” you told him, ready to put the moment you had just shared to the side.

Damian gave you an incredulous look upon realizing you were being serious.

His eyes were as green as ever, watching you carefully as though he expected you to read his mind. Not for the first time, you wished you could.

His hands twitched on your ass. One of them softly caressed the area, drawing random patterns on your clothed asscheek.

“You can’t possibly think I brought you here to look for a stupid Christmas ornament.”

“So you brought me to my bedroom just to make out?”

”Let’s go with that,” he conceded. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

“Can’t let the team know about your crush on me?” you teased him before you could fully realize what you were saying. It was fun banter, meaningless.

Damian turned serious. “I’m certain they know by now, but I would rather not get caught groping your ass in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Wait... so you hung the mistletoe?”

“No. But I’m not above admitting I should thank whoever did it.” He firmly rested his hands on your ass, pushing his hips against yours. “Now, can we stop talking?”

“Sure.” You kissed him this time, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Soon, he had you on his lap as he sat on your bed, humping him while he kissed your neck. He inched your sweater up, brushing your belly with his fingertips.

“I want you,” you whined, aware that he would leave marks on your neck.

“I’m here,” he deadpanned, nipping at your throat as he continued lifting your sweater.

You stopped moving your hips, lightly shifting on his lap in order for your hands to reach his belt. He didn’t stop you, so you went on and unbuckled his belt before undoing his pants.

Damian made you stand up, not for a moment taking his hands off you. In contrast, your neck already missed his plump lips.

He undid your jeans in a hurry, lowering them down your knees along with your panties.

Bluntly, he asked, “You need me to finger you first?”

Feeling your face heat up as he intensely gazed at you in expectancy of an answer, you pulled one of your hands off his body and parted your folds.

You found embarrassing how wet he made you. Only able to shake your head, you avoided looking at him directly.

“Use your words,” he commanded softly.

“No,” you whispered. He shuffled, lifting his hips to get rid of his pants and boxers. The gesture made your skin tingle, and as you kicked your shoes and jeans off, you added, “I don’t need you to finger me.”

Hissing, Damian held his cock for you, looking down as you placed your palm on top of the back of his hand. Your hand replaced his, and you softly caressed his cock.

“Condom?”

He stretched his arm, slanting his body to the side as he reached for his wallet. He handed the condom to you without a word, throwing his wallet onto the floor.

Once you had rolled the condom down his cock, his gaze lifted. You straddled him again, slowly gliding down. A groan spurted from within him as you took your time to push inch after inch of his cock inside you.

Damian’s eyes were on your face, refusing to lose any detail of your reaction as he entered you for the first time.

You moaned, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He held you by the waist, holding his breath as you ever so slightly drove your hips forward.

The more you moved, the less he cared about whether he was loud or not. There hadn’t been signs of the team coming back, but you were certain Damian wouldn’t have cared either way.

He began moving his hips at your rhythm, only prompting you to roll your hips more enthusiastically as you sucked on his neck.

You tried to push him to lay down on the bed, but he stopped you, speaking softly. “Wait. It’s hot in here.”

Feeling empty as you moved away from his lap in order to get rid of your remaining clothes, you entertained yourself by admiring his body as he did the same.

Damian grabbed your hand, bringing you on top of him as he laid on his back. He kissed you, holding the back of your head with a hand as the other rested on your lower back.

Such placement made it extremely easy for him to roll you over so he could be on top, and the distraction his lips bestowed upon you a calculated move.

“Meanie,” you lightheartedly panted on his mouth.

He huffed a laugh, giving you a short kiss. “You seem to like it.” Damian dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, briefly teasing you before shoving it inside you.

He caressed your thighs as he started to thrust in slow strokes, teasing you some more as he controlled his breath.

Bottoming out, Damian tightened his grip on your thighs. He rolled his hips, and by your request started going faster.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, whimpering freely. This time you were the one who didn’t care if the tower was still empty.

His mouth hovered over yours. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, and by the way he was smiling at you, he surely knew.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he told you, lips brushing against yours. “Even more beautiful than in my imagination.”

You canted your hips up, desperate for more. More of him, of his voice, of everything he was willing to give.

And he granted you such wishes, picking up his pace, kissing you, gripping your thighs just the way you liked it even though he had no way to know.

Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to have him closer. It was impossible to do so, yet you had to give it a try.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you announced.

As though your words had been a demand for him to make you come already, he pressed his fingers on your clit and started rubbing as he thrust inside you.

Tired and spent, you felt his weight fall on top of your front. Damian kissed the side of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

Eventually, you softly pushed him off you and begrudgingly left the bed in direction to the bathroom.

You were washing your legs with the showerhead when Damian entered the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the second drawer if you also want to wash yourself,” you informed him.

He opened said drawer as you shut the water. He didn’t make any move for a moment, but he took a clean towel nonetheless.

You patted your skin dry, moving out of his way so he could use the shower.

“You had condoms here,” he observed.

“Well, I didn’t know which type of condom you preferred...”

“Oh, are those somebody else’s preferred ones?”

You slipped a clean pair of panties on. He watched you. “Please tell me you’re not actually angry because of this.”

“Your shower gel smells nice,” he opted for saying.

You hummed. “It’s new. I got tired of the blue one.”

Giving him privacy, you exited the bathroom and decided to check the mattress in case you needed to change the bedding.

Back in your bedroom, Damian silently put his boxers back on. He didn’t bother with his pants nor his shirt.

“I’m not angry,” he finally stopped avoiding the subject.

You tried not to frown. “You’re pouting.”

His expression turned blank. “I don’t pout.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Come to the Christmas party with me.”

“I’ll be at the party either way.”

“Yes,” he gritted before inhaling deeply. “But I want you to be with me. As my date.”

“What would the difference be?” You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. “We know everybody already.”

“For one, it would help me sleep at night.” He took you by the face with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded weird due to the pressure of his fingers on your cheeks

Damian gave you a sweet kiss, loosening his grip on your face to cup your cheek. You softly placed your hand on the back of his head, giving him another kiss. And another, and another, until you lost count.

[yonkimint]

So Show Me, I’ll Show You

Part 28.1

This part has written parts with pictures in between.

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When the door to your hospital room swings open, you groan in relief. Finally Jimin was here to jailbreak you. It was great having Lauren, Heeji, and Luna here but they are dutiful bulldogs and you can’t blame them. Your last visit to the hospital had left them pretty traumatized.

Your hopes fall when a man in scrubs steps into the room instead. You had seen him once or twice but you had never exchanged words. In fact, the only reason you remember him at all is because he is white and you thought that was odd, considering you were in a Korean hospital.

“Oh hi,” you say, uncomfortable, when he just stands at the foot of your bed. His head is bowed so you can’t study his face too closely but his presence puts you on edge. He doesn’t respond to your greeting so you push on, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “The nurses just did their rotations and I’m doing fine. Did you need to check something?”

He laughs. A low throaty laugh that has haunted all of your nightmares. Your hands fist around hospital sheets as a cold chill runs up your spine. Swallowing around the lump rising in your throat, you peer closer at him.Mark’s hair is black. This orderly’s is ash blonde. But everything else… you suck in a sharp breath.

“Hello, y/n, did you get my flowers?”

He lifts his head and all his sharp features suddenly come into focus. He has been here the whole time watching you try to recover from injuries that he perpetuated. He looks pleased. And his pleasure makes you want to claw his face off.

“Go to hell, asshole.” You try to sound menacing, to hiss these words like poison, but they only come out a weak, fearful wheeze. Mark clucks his tongue at you.

“Look at you, y/n, trying to be brave when you’re really nothing but a weakling. A cowardly little girl. You would be nothing without me and you know it. You don’t really think you’re going to fight me, do you?”

There’s a glimmer in his eye and it makes you so angry. But the part of you that has endured his abuse for years is still the stronger part and you feel your anger give way to hopelessness. Mark is right. You won’t fight him.

“Good girl. Now, we are going to go on a little field trip, okay?”

You shudder as he steps around the bed and traces the IV still in your arm. You had been waiting until the last second to remove it so the nurses wouldn’t suspect anything if they walked in but now you regret that choice. Mark has no intentions of being gentle with you.

He presses a palm against your mouth, smiling vindictively as the fingers of his other hand loop around the tubes that have been delivering your medicine and fluid for the last few days and yanks the whole thing loose. You whimper into his skin as blood splashes from your open vein.

“How are we supposed to go on a field trip when any camera is going to catch you dragging me out of this room?” you ask him, hoping fleetingly that he hasn’t thought of this. But he’s been here for who knows how long. 

“My little writer,” he coos, snatching your phone from your lap and slipping it into his scrubs pocket, “You really do try to think of everything that can happen, don’t you?”

You glare at him. You have taken abuse from him all these years and still, it’s the patronizing that sets you off every time. And he knows he’s pushed the right button too because he laughs and pats your cheek gently.

“Oh my sweet little y/n, the field trip is right here in the hospital. I’m going to roll you out of here in that wheelchair,” he says, pausing to point to the wheelchair that sits in the corner of your room, “and we’re going to go down the hall. And you’ll do exactly what I tell you to because you know that I have your phone which means I can either let you say goodbye to your friends or make them think that you never want to see them again. Your choice!”

This is so cliche, you think, hobbling out of bed when he gestures for you to get up, like something out of a stupid soap opera. Disguises himself as an orderly and kidnaps me right under everyone’s noses. God damnit. 

Your field trip brings you to a supply closet on the third floor of the hospital which, conveniently, is under renovation. You can’t help but think that Mark is following this cliched script just to piss off the writer in you.

Now that you’re out of sight of the cameras, he has tied your limbs to the chair so you can’t run away. A gag sits roughly in your mouth and cuts against the corners of your lips. Mark is circling you as if deciding where he should start.

Lauren told you that he threatened to do so much worse than put you in the hospital next time he found you and you let your eyes flutter shut in defeat. 

You choose not to think about that. Instead, you let your memories play like old movie reels on the backs of your eyelids. Heeji’s art galleries. Lauren’s photo shoots. And Luna’s ridiculous seances every full moon. 

You stifle a chuckle. No need to bring on Mark’s wrath any sooner than necessary.

And then, newer memories begin to play and a lump rises in your throat. These ones aren’t supposed to be tinged with melancholy. These are supposed to be the memories of starting over. The memories from after you are safe.

You swallow hard.

The flight had already taken a lot out of you. This was just the cherry on top of a totally stressful, life changing ice cream sundae. At least this coffee shop seemed safe and warm while you tried to figure out if you were going to be homeless or not. 

Seoyun, the barista, had been kind enough to give you the WiFi password so looking up your address shouldn’t be too difficult. Still, you lowered your head down on the table with a sigh of defeat. Seoul was so confusing. 

“Oh, I know that look,” a voice sounds above you. Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing, already distrustful of a friendly stranger in the heart of South Korea. He smiles at you and his perfect rows of white teeth are so familiar, you already feel your tense muscles uncoiling. He presses on, “it’s not your first day in Seoul, is it?”

You glance at your luggage and back at him, remembering Lauren’s texts to go find BTS. As if the butt of some cosmic joke, it seems that they have found you instead.

You roll your eyes at him, “what gave it away?”

He glances down at your luggage too and laughs. You study his face carefully so you see the exact moment he makes a decision that will alter the course of both your lives. 

His hands are full with two trays of coffee and he shoves them down on your table without asking. You raise an eyebrow at him, not really surprised by his boldness but somehow taken aback all the same, but he only flashes his brilliant smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. He sits down. 

“You look like you don’t trust yourself to breathe. Like you’re trapped in your own brain or something,” he comments. 

You lean forward, reminding yourself to calm the flare of annoyance rising in your chest before you speak. “Jimin,” you say evenly, “do you think you can just sit here with a complete stranger, flirt with her a little bit, and she’ll open up with her whole life story?”

“It’s always worked before,” he chirps back, batting his eyes, that same heart melting grin never wavering. But you see it there behind his gaze. No one has ever called him out on this before and you smile.

“I sincerely doubt that…” you say, trailing off as his hand darts out for the phone you’ve left on the table. You gasp, your reflexes too slow to catch him now, and he giggles swiping through as many un-password protected screens as he can.

“Well, I sincerely doubt that you know where you’re going since you’re sitting in a random coffee shop with all your luggage so, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ve decided to help you find your way,” he says, handing the phone back and gesturing for you to unlock it for him.

Your insides are screaming not to do it. You have to keep a low profile or starting over is going to fail but the earnest look in his eye has you wavering. With a sigh, you unlock the phone and you feel it deep in your gut, everything is over before it’s even begun.

It didn’t really matter what Mark was doing to torture you, just that he was and the pain was excruciating. You had heard a rumor once that after a certain point, the body would stop responding to pain but you were sure now that that was a lie. This was endless.

Your eyes start to roll back when Mark claps in front of your face again. You blink back into focus and your whole body is screaming for relief. He’s looking at you like you should say something to him but you can’t speak, the gag still firmly in your mouth, muffling all your screams.

“Can’t have you dozing off, my favorite little writer, you’ll miss the best part!”

You quirk an eyebrow, inviting him to give his little villain’s speech. He obviously wants to follow the soap opera script so you might as well let him follow it to its natural conclusion. He grins, tracing your jaw line with something icy cold. A knife?

No, you tell yourself, don’t think about that.

“You’re probably thinking how cliche this all must be. The hospital disguise. The hiding in plain sight. You’re probably even thinking that since we stayed in the hospital, it’s inevitable that I will get caught. Which is true. The question is if it will happen before or after I kill you,” he says, “And maybe the more important question is this: why did Mark do this to the thing that makes him all his money?”

The thing? You would spit on him if there weren’t a gag in your mouth.

He leans close, his eyes boring into yours. “And the answer is really quite simple. You disgust me. You think you’re so talented and so clever. Everyone adores you and bends over backwards to care for you and what do you really need protection from? Your big, bad manager and publisher?”

He’s going to keep ranting, you know it, and you don’t want the short time you have left to be spent listening to this tirade. They say it’s normal to disassociate under trauma and so you do, falling into your memories again.

Namjoon had warned you about Yoongi before you even stepped foot in the studio. It still wasn’t enough to stop the way your heart dropped down into your stomach when you caught a glimpse of him in the hallway. 

You had told him after the fact that you didn’t remember this moment but the truth of the matter was, it was impossible to erase this memory from your mind. With all the steel you could muster, you met his gaze. Dark, critical eyes stared back at you, soft pink lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line. 

You offered a gentle smile like it was an olive branch, your knees wobbling while you waited for him to roll his eyes or storm away. But his eyes only widened, those annoyed lips parting in a small ‘o’, color rushing up to dust his round cheeks. 

It made your knees knock together and you ducked your head. What was that? Forget it. If he was going to refuse to meet you, you weren’t going to waste feelings over it.

The next memory spills into recollection almost on top of this one. 

Would it be okay if I came and listened to what you’re working on? you texted Namjoon. 

Jungkook and Hobi were arguing about who got to be Luigi in the next race. You chuckled to yourself, amazed for the billionth time that you had somehow been invited to hang out with these boys again. You had already known they were incredible but actually interacting with them was overwhelming. They were as wonderful as they had always seemed from afar. 

Even, you thought, Yoongi. He had extended a truce but he was still frustrating to no end. What did he mean you could never be friends? He was obviously capable of being friendly and you knew the way he cared for and protected his group members. It shouldn’t sting so much that he didn’t want to be YOUR friend but what could you do?

“Y/n, I curated a meme just for you,” Tae whispers from his place beside you on the couch and you startle when he pushes his phone into your hands. 

“What the hell, Tae?” you burst out laughing, trying to make sense of the chaotic picture before you. He starts laughing too, satisfied by your reaction and takes his phone back. You punch his arm lightly and mutter, “you’re so weird.”

Let me ask Yoongi, your phone chimes. Your stomach surges with some feeling you don’t understand. You remind yourself that you’re just going to hang out with Joon. This has nothing to do with Yoongi and yet…

How is he supposed to become your friend if you let him keep avoiding you?

He says you can’t talk but you can come in.

You’re out of your seat before you have time to think about it more. The boys look up at you in surprise and you announce that you’re gonna hang out with Namjoon a bit before you challenge them to Mario Kart. The look of fear in Jungkook’s eyes sends you into another fit of laughter and you pat his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Kookie, winning isn’t everything!”

“Yes it is!” he groans as you walk away.

In the studio, your stomach starts to dance again. Yoongi doesn’t look up from the scratch paper he’s scribbling on but you can see the way his fingers tighten around his pen. He is as aware of your presence as you are of his. When Namjoon points to the spot on the couch beside him, it takes all your concentration not to trip over your own feet. 

You scold yourself for this silly behavior. There are more adoring members of this kpop group to be mooning over. Mooning over? You are NOT mooning over Yoongi. Who said that? Not you.

Anyway, whatever it is you’re feeling, Yoongi has done nothing to deserve it. So why do your eyes keep landing on him as you survey the room?

“I don’t like that lyric there,” Namjoon says, “maybe we should move it down into the second verse.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but it’s softened by the small smile playing at his lips. He and Namjoon must have been going back and forth over these lines for quite some time. You watch as he scribbles out the words and moves them lower down the page. 

His eyes meet yours and the hairs rise on the back of your arms. He doesn’t look upset that you’re there and that’s almost more unsettling than him insulting you. You press your lips together and search for anywhere in the room to look but him. 

The phone in your lap will have to provide distraction enough. You pick it up and fiddle around between home screens but there’s nothing as interesting there as what’s happening before you so you listen in on the lyrics they’re crafting while you pretend to text the girls. 

Of course, when you find out the song is for E.L. Penn, you spiral. You knew your worlds were going to collide if you stuck around long enough. It’s never been a secret to you that Namjoon was a fan of her work — your work — or that they would have worked with her on the movie if she hadn’t gone on hiatus. 

But you are just an English teacher in Seoul and not the recipient of this song that is making your heart hurt. You can’t believe Mark would hack into your Twitter account just to set this in motion without you. He’s trying to push your buttons and it’s working. 

So you do the only thing you can. You call Lauren. 

When you return to the studio, Namjoon is gone. You knew he would be since he passed you in the hall while you were still on the phone. Yoongi looks up at you in surprise but you only offer a curt nod before beelining for your spot on the couch.

The tears spill out before you can help it and your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi. You feel stupid as you read his stupid question through blurred vision. You respond sardonically and toss your phone onto the couch. 

When he tells you you’re killing the vibe, you almost launch to your feet and run out of the room but Yoongi stops you. You stare at him, mouth gaping open like a fish. 

“You want to what?” you ask, wondering if he’ll scold you for talking out loud to him. 

He reaches for his guitar instead, a sleek, black stained acoustic that you’ve seen in several lives from before you actually knew him. He strums the chords lightly, the sweet sounds discordant in the small space. You blink at him. 

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he says vaguely, “I’m just curious what you think.”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. He frowns at you, his lips puckering and little dimples appearing in the corners of his cheeks. 

“Just be quiet and listen, okay?” he asks it like a question but you know he’s giving a command.

You smile at him a little too sweetly and then settle back into the couch, pulling your legs up to your chest, so you can rest your chin on your knees as he starts to strum. He rolls his eyes at you but there’s a smile in them that you’ve never seen directed at you before. 

Your stomach makes that weird lurch again and you finally resign yourself to what you are feeling. Butterflies. Min Yoongi is giving you butterflies.

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[hxlyhead-harpies]

The Last Dream of My Soul pt. 3 (R.L.)

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The very bookish (Y/n) has spent most of her life alone, aside from her best friends Lily and her beloved books. But when the infamous Marauders get thrust into her life, how could she resist the beautiful and unattainable Remus.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k

Hi everyone! I am really proud of this part and how it turned out so I hope that you like it!

Part 1, Part 2

Now that you spent more time with the Marauders, you finally got to go to Hogsmeade with Lily again. Just like old times you and Lily walked around arm in arm. The only difference now though, was that her other arm was linked around James’s. It must have been an odd sight. The three of you strolling through the village together, attached at the arms. But you didn’t care. You finally had your time with Lily back.

“Oi (Y/n)!” Sirius shouted. You turned towards him, smiling.

“Yes?”

“You make an absolutely fabulous third wheel. Even better at it than me, I reckon,” he said with a laugh. You dislodged your arm from Lily’s and began to walk in step with Sirius.

“I would say that it’s still a pretty close contest. I haven’t forgotten when you went along on a date with them,” you said jokingly. Lily turned to look over her shoulder from in front of you.

“And I haven’t forgotten yet either, you git!” Lily shouted. Sirius let out a deep belly laugh.

“I’m sorry Evans! I swear,” he shouted back. You laughed along with the two of them, struggling to remember a time when you had felt this happy. You were finally starting to understand the appeal of larger friend groups. You couldn’t feel lonely when you were surrounded by friends. You turn to look over your shoulder to see Remus and Peter lagging behind you. Peter had dropped his scarf and had begun to chase after it when it got caught in the wind. While the snow on the path to Hogsmeade had been shoveled, the sides of the roadway had not. So as Peter kept attempting to run through the shin-deep snow, he kept faceplanting into it. Remus stood behind him, safely on the road, with a wide grin on his face. His face was flushed red from the cold and he kept shouting after Peter, attempting to direct him to the scarf. The scene made you smile softly. You felt a nudge against your shoulder. You turned to face Sirius who was giving you an odd look. His expression made you almost believe that he knew something that you didn’t.

“What?” you asked him.

“What’re you staring at?” he inquired. You gestured to Peter struggling to get up from a mound of snow, sputtering out a string of curses.

“Peter’s lost his scarf,” you answered simply. Sirius smirked at you.

“Are you sure that all you were looking at?” he responded in a teasing tone. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean Sirius?”

“Oh nothing,” he responded cheekily. You frown, confused at his answer. Before you had the chance to further push the question the lot of you arrived at the Three Broomsticks.

James pushed open the door, causing a blast of warm air to hit you. You sighed contentedly. James and Sirius ran off to the bar to grab a round of butterbeer.

“A hot chocolate for me!” you yelled after the two boys, sliding into the booth next to Lily. Sirius turned around towards you and saluted in affirmation. After you and Lily got settled, removing the layers of hats and scarves from your body, Remus and Peter stumbled through the door. They were both smiling wide with red faces. Peter was huffing and puffing but held up his red and gold scarf above his head triumphantly. You and Lily cheered loudly from your table, drawing the attention of a few of the other patrons. They made their way over to the table, grinning the entire way. As they made their way over, James and Sirius also arrived at the table, beverages in hand. James slid in next to Lily while Peter sat on his other side. Remus gently slipped into the spot next to you, while Sirius began handing out the drinks.

“Okay then. Butterbeers for all of the normal people, and hot chocolates for Moony and (Y/n),” he said factitiously. You and Remus both reached for the same mug, accidentally brushing hands. You pulled back your hand quickly, muttering a quick apology, and attempted to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks. Ever since that night in the common room where Remus had revealed to you that he didn’t like the idea of romance, you had done everything in your power to squash your crush. You tried your best to sit far from him at meals, you made sure that you were never alone together, and you found yourself talking to him less. But alas, none of this helped to quell your infatuation. All it took was merely seeing his face or hearing him speak for you to become a stuttering mess. None of your efforts conceded in stopping butterflies from erupting in your stomach every time you were near him.

The table talked about random, trivial things for a while. Topics such as “who had finished the charms essay” and “why were the first years acting extra annoying?” After a few minutes though, side conversations began to break off. Sirius and Peter appeared to be in a heated conversation, while Lily and James looked at each other all lovey-dovey, exchanging gentle touches to each other’s arms. For a moment you and Remus sat in silence, sipping your hot chocolates. After a second Remus cleared his throat.

“So I’m really enjoying the book so far,” he said.

“Good, I’m glad,” you replied with a smile.

“And I have to say, your annotations are quite entertaining,” he teasingly said. You groaned, putting your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry about that. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” you replied. He shot you a grin before taking another sip of hot chocolate.

“Well-” he placed his mug back down on the table- “It definitely makes reading it more fun,” he said. You smiled at this, humming in agreement.

“I suppose that could be true, I do tend to write pretty idiotic things in the margins,” you said with a laugh. Remus laughed along with you.

“I wouldn’t say idiotic… Though they aren’t the most insightful comments,” he teased. You playfully nudge his arm, ignoring the way that the touch made your heart skip a beat.

“But I do have to say, my favorite part is seeing the lines that you underline. You pick good favorite phrases,” he said earnestly. You smiled, tracing the rim of your mug with your forefinger.

“It’s one of my many talents,” you respond. Remus hummed in agreement before returning to his hot chocolate. At that moment Sirius began to tell a story detailing his latest rendezvous and you turned toward him to listen. You and Lily made faces at the moments where he bordered on disrespectful, sending him warning glares, while James high fived him from under the table.

After about an hour of reveling in the warmth of the pub, the group headed back out into the cold, ready to make the journey back to Hogwarts. As you exited the pub’s doors you felt yourself gasp in delight. While you were sitting inside, it had begun to snow. You practically ran outside, sticking your hands out to try and catch snowflakes. Lily and the Marauders watched you from the doorway, all of them smiling. You turned back to look at them with a jubilant expression.

“Guys,” you exclaimed breathily, “it’s snowing!” Lily ran out to join you, immediately sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes. James followed behind her closely, putting his hand on her waist. Sirius spent no time crafting a snowball and chucking it at Peter’s stomach. The boys began chasing after one another, attempting to stuff snow down each other’s hoods. Lily squealed with delight when James picked her up by the waist before plopping her down into a snowbank.

“Potter!” she shrieked, “You’re going to pay for that!” She made a snowball as quickly as she could and chucked it at her boyfriend, earning a chuckle from the group. You watched from the side, content catching snowflakes in your gloved hand and watching them disappear. After a moment you sensed someone walk up beside you. You looked up to see Remus who was smiling down on you. You smiled back, your stomach churning. His eyes looked down at your gloves which had an array of snowflakes melting on them.

“Here,” he said, moving to stand in front of you. He grabbed your hand lightly, turning it so your palm was facing the sky. He waited for a snowflake to land there before muttering a quick incantation and pointing his wand at the flake. It froze in place, his spell stopping it from melting. You looked at it with wide eyes, admiring its beauty. The small, crystalized, symmetrical shape was extremely beautiful. You felt awestruck. You looked up to thank Remus, an impossibly large grin on your face.

“Thank you,” you breathed out. He smiled at you before responding.

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d enjoy it,” he said, his breath fanning across your face, reminding you of your close proximity. You flushed, stepping back an inch.

“I did,” you replied shyly. The moment is broken when a snowball exploded on Remus’s shoulder. He sputtered for a moment, knocked off balance. He reached for your shoulder to steady himself before scanning the scene to identify his attacker. Sirius and James grinned at him cheekily, more snowballs in hands.

“Oh you two are dead!” he yelled at his best friends, kneeling down to create his own snowball. The snow war waged on for a few more minutes, you eventually being pulled into the battle. And you use it as an excuse to distract yourself from replaying the moment that you just had with Remus.

After your small moment in Hogsmeade, you felt a slight shift in your relationship with Remus. He seemed to purposely seek you out to talk to you; topics of discussion ranged from books to the upcoming holiday break to random tidbits of gossip. (Remus was a notorious gossip but he would vehemently deny it if anyone suggested it). The way he spoke to you appeared to be softer, more gentle, and when you’d find yourself alone with him in the common room late at night, the conversations seemed more intimate and vulnerable. But despite these factors, you refused to let yourself think about it too deeply. You knew Remus’s stance on romance and you didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing. Despite this though, you still reveled in each conversation, soaking up everything that he had to say. You were content just listening to him talk, hearing the melodic tone of his voice. And while late at night you fantasized that he’d confess his love to you in the same way that the leading men from your books did, you were just fine being his friend. At least that was what you told yourself.

At some point, you and Remus had formed a habit of reading together in the astronomy tower. It was almost always empty after dinner, so you and Remus would head up there and settle down next to each other to read. You would mostly read in silence, occasionally breaking the quiet tranquility to discuss something happening in your respective novels. But it was a comfortable silence, the kind of silence you had only ever experienced before with Lily. It almost scared you how fast Remus and you had become close. You thought that you had a good understanding of one another, despite only knowing each other for a few weeks. You knew that you didn’t know everything about him, but you felt that you truly knew him nonetheless.

On this night you were reading Persuasion, another muggle romance. Remus was still reading your tattered copy of A Tale of Two Cities. You had been reading for about half an hour when you began to peer over the edge of your book at Remus, something you caught yourself doing quite often.

His eyes were slightly furrowed in concentration, his thumbnail caught between his teeth. His messy hair was beginning to fall into his eyes which were sweeping across the page in front of him. He looked absolutely beautiful, and you felt as if you could spend your whole life watching him.

You eventually let your eyes fall back to your own book, attempting to avoid being caught admiring him. You spent a few more moments reading, envisioning yourself and Remus in the shoes of Anne and Captain Wentworth until you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turned to look up at Remus, who was smiling gently.

“I think I’ve found your favorite part,” he said quietly. You felt yourself smile and straightened up.

“Really?” you asked excitedly. Remus nodded, shifting around so he was now facing you fully. He cleared his throat and before you realized his plan he began to read the passage out loud.

“To none. No, Miss Manette, to none. If you will hear me through a very little more, all you can ever do for me is done. I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul,” he read. You felt yourself beam as he uttered your favorite line. It had somehow become even more romantic in his voice.

“In my degradation I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this homemade such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent forever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down,” he paused to take a breath, looking up at you with flushed cheeks.

“But I wish you to know that you inspired it,” he said, finishing the paragraph. You felt yourself swoon from the combination of the romantic words of the text and Remus’s eyes boring into your own. You smiled softly at him before turning away, unable to handle the eye contact. You played with the hem of your skirt for a second, though you still felt his eyes on you.

“You guessed correctly,” you muttered, “that is my favorite part.” Remus hummed, nodding slightly.

“I can see why you enjoy it so much,” he said. From the corner of your eye, you saw him tracing his finger across the words you had underlined.

“Really? You? Mr. unromantic?” you teased. You lifted your head to look at him again. His cheeks were tinted red and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Well… maybe I’m beginning to see the appeal of romance,” he said ashamedly. You furrowed your eyebrows and attempted to slow your now racing heart.

“Oh?” you said softly, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Well fictional ones at least,” he said quickly. You felt your face crumple at his words, quickly attempting to cover it up.

“Oh I understand what you mean,” you replied, trying to keep your words light. “At least now you have so many more books you can read,” you continued. Remus chuckled from beside you.

“I suppose so. Might have to borrow them from you though,” he said. “I’ll miss reading your annotations after I’m done with this,” he continued, flashing the cover of the book towards you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and shot him a small smile.

“Well don’t worry. I have hoards of books with silly little notes in them that I can lend you,” you said with a giggle. Remus laughed with you for a moment before you turned back to your own novel. Quickly, you became engrossed in the story. So engrossed that you missed the way Remus continuously traced one line in the book. A line that had been underlined many times, in an array of colors. A line that had kept you up at night, fantasizing that someday, someone would think it of you.

“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@goosegorl​ @serenefreakgeekao3​ @blueflame2778​ 

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable.  She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

**

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

[penguinwithitsarseonfire]

Where We Stood Was Holy Ground

Pairing: 9th Doctor x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,485

Summary: The Doctor takes you, Rose, and Jack to a heritage garden on some distant planet. One of the (apparent) perks is that the pathways constantly change, and after repairing them, you have to test them out.

Request: Hey there, do you write for nine? Cause I'd really love a fluffy nine fic, maybe using fluff prompts 4, 26, and 38 from your first prompt list? Thank you so much 😊😊😊 
Prompts: “Kiss me." | You’re really warm.” | “You owe me.” “Fine, whatever you like.”

A/N: Yes, I know, I created a bunch of elaborate plot points with no follow through (shout out to the giant scorpion crabs of yesteryear), but please enjoy the pretty national park and an alien dust I only realised halfway through writing this was eerily similar to a certain medical nanite tech

The water was black, all inky as if it were truly oil. You leaned over the railing and ran your fingers through it, it was cool under your touch, and the water shone, sparkling like it had turned into golden and silver glitter, as if creating its own night sky.

Rose was standing by your side, resting her head in her palm, and watching the pink fish swim in circles near the bridge you were both standing on. They looked like catfish, which you supposed was pretty alien. “D’you think you can drink it?” She asked. “The water, that is.”

“I don’t know,” you said. The water felt like any other water, there was a bit of a give and take, but it was light and smooth. “You probably can, it’s water, after all.”

Rose hummed, and then gave you a cheeky grin, locking eyes with you as you pulled yourself back up. “Maybe we should get Jack to try it.”

You laughed brightly; Jack would most totally try it.

You turned around to ask him, but he wasn’t there. Neither was the Doctor. You frowned slightly, and you grabbed at the bannister behind you, holding it so you stayed upright as you leaned forward. You swivelled your head up and down the pathway, but you couldn’t see either of them.

You turned to Rose, raising an eyebrow. “Where’ve they gone?”

She skipped off the lower railing she had been standing on, and came to your side, looking either side of the path, just as you had done. She turned back to you, shrugging. “I dunno. Maybe they were taken a different route? D’you have a map?”

Oh – right. The map.

You pulled it out of the back pocket of your jeans, opening it up. At first you had thought it was an average paper map, but you found that, as the paths changed, so did the map. That’s what this place was, it was a national park on some random planet (you’d already forgotten the name of it), which had pathways that spontaneously moved and changed directions. Apparently, once you decided you wanted to leave, the paths would take you to the exit, but, until then, it was a free for all.

It hadn’t caused any issues, and, as you had wandered under trees with glowing blue leaves, and plants that shone silver in the light, you had even liked it. It was nice to just walk, with no idea where you were going.

Now though, spilt from Jack and the Doctor, the path wasn’t what you would call convenient.

You pathways shifted on the map, and it showed four green dots. Two of the dots – you and Rose, were on the bridge, the other two were only a few pathways away, slowly blinking further along the path, as though they were walking. Those two had to be Jack and the Doctor.

Rose pulled out her own map and you compared the two. They lined up with one another, and you watched as the path Jack and the Doctor were walking on shifted, making it closer to you too.

You were thankful you had all done maintenance on the paths earlier, which was the whole reason you had stuck around. You were testing it, making sure the giant scorpion crabs of yesteryear weren’t still manipulating the paths anymore, luring helpless tourists toward them as their prey.  

An hour in, and it was working out.

“Should we go find them?” Rose suggested. “Meet them halfway.”

You pocketed your map. “Might as well,” you said, and you gestured down the bridge. “That way?”

Rose nodded, and the two of you took off.

You were both using Rose’s map to guide you, keeping you on track towards the other two. You wondered if Jack and the Doctor were doing the same, using a map to find you two. Knowing the Doctor, he was just probably wandering around, Jack in tow. Maybe he’d found a plant he adored, one he hadn’t seen in several centuries.

You could picture his face, pulled into a small frown as he studied it quizzically. Perhaps the plant was pink or a bright orange, and glowed like the trees did, sparkling against his blue eyes.

Rose nudged you and tripped for a moment, stumbling over a stone on the pathway. You turned to Rose in shock but she was grinning at you. “Thinking of the Doctor?”

You flushed, and could feel the way your face went hot, from your cheeks, across your nose, and up to your ears. “It was that obvious?”

Rose’s grin, which you hadn’t realised was possible, grew. She began to tease you lightly, her voice lilting up and down like a teenager during a sleepover. “You get this sort of dreamy look on your face,” she said. “And then every time you do, you get this sort of lovesick smile.”

You felt your face grow even more hot, and the flush went down your neck. You nudged her side, and said, only half petulantly. “Shut up.”

Rose laughed, but her face grew more sincere. “Aw no, it’s really sweet,” she squeezed your arm, and then mouth reformed into a familiar wry smirk. “Especially when he gives you the same look.”

You stopped in your tracks, looking at Rose in shock. “What?”

Rose laughed in delight, and began to jog away, she turned, so she was running backwards, and shot you the cheekiest grin you had ever seen. “You heard me!”

You stumbled after her, your brain trying to process what Rose had said.

Especially when he gives you the same look.

Did the Doctor hold those same feelings for you? The ones that you kept bottled up inside, so afraid they would burst.

Rose went around a bend and you chased after her. When you arrived to the bend though, she was gone. You sagged on the pathway, glaring at the new, empty path, which went a complete different direction from where Rose had went.

These pathways loved messing with you.

You hoped Rose was okay.

You pulled your map out of your pocket. There was one dot further down this new path, and two dots a few paths away. You ran your free hand through your hair and watched as the single dot came closer. You weren’t sure who it was, it could have been any of your friends, but you resolved to move forward.

As soon as you started walking, the dot stopped, frozen in place. You narrowed your eyes at the dot, trying to place why – whoever it was, would do that.

Then it hit you, they were waiting for you.

So you kept walking.

The park felt magical. The tree’s glittered with deep blue light in the leaves, and when they swayed in the quiet breeze, the parts that touched the wind shone a bright blue. It reminded you of a stadium concert where people wore those light up wristbands, and the stadium would be awash of bright, pulsing colour. The lights in the leaves almost seemed to dance, as if in tandem with the wind.

Under the blue light, the various shrubbery that made home for the various alien animals that lived here, shone silver. They were eerily metallic, as if they had been painted that colour. It was surreal, and utterly beautiful in a haunted sort of way that you couldn’t quite describe.

The purple sky which hung above you created a soft backdrop, as if some higher being had painted the area on a planet sized canvas, and had spun the colour wheel to find the perfect sky. It was a dark maroon, so even though you knew that logically, it was the middle of the day, it still felt like it was dusk, with the last sun-rays shining in the distance.

It didn’t take you long before you saw him – and you knew it was a him. He had a tuft of dark hair, which Rose certainly didn’t have, and he had a much broader build than she did.

He was crouched down, as if inspecting one of the plants, but you weren’t close enough to tell. You took a wild stab in the dark, it was probably the Doctor.

“Doctor,” you called out, and you jogged towards him.

He looked up, and sure enough, it was the Doctor. He gave you a surprised grin. “Oh Y/N! Fancy seeing you here.”

 You came up beside him. “What, in a park where the paths keep changing?” You said. “Who would’ve guessed,” you crouched down beside him, letting your knees bump against his. Small indulgences. “What’re you looking at?”

He nodded to the small plant, and you almost laughed out loud. This was what you had been picturing, the Doctor eyeing a bunch of plants.

It was one of the shrubs you had seen littered around the place. It had brown leaves which looked silver under the blue light from the trees, and held bright orange bulbs, as if they were storing something.

It made you want to touch it.

“Asclepios Tubrosa,” the Doctor said. “That’s the scientific name. Your lot would call it Orange Fluxroot.”

You considered it for a moment. “What’s it do?”

The Doctor gave you a look. “What’s it do?” He repeated. “Y/N, it’s a plant.”

“Yeah,” you said. “And loads of plants do stuff,” you countered. “They produce flowers or food, or just sit there and look pretty. Plus, you’re looking at it like it can bend the laws of physics or something.”

The Doctor gave you a considering look, and you knew he was taking what you said on board. You’d been travelling with him long enough now to recognise his little looks. “That’s what I was trying to work out,” he turned back to the plant. “I recognise it, but I can’t remember from where.”

You still wanted to poke it. “Can I touch it?”

“Dunno,” he said. “Could be dangerous.”

“Everything with you is dangerous,” you replied, and the plant thrummed. You desperately wanted to poke it. “I’m going to touch it,” you decided.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at you. “Alright,” he said, and he gestured to the plant.

You reached out your hand and poked it, right in one of the orange bulbs.

Nothing happened.

You deflated slightly, you’d thought something would happen. The plants here were so different, so alien, that you were sure that this would be too.

“Huh,” the Doctor said. “I guess it’s not the plant I was thinking then. It might be a Pleuresie Har-”

You tuned the Doctor out. The plant was swaying slightly, except, it was swaying the opposite way from the wind. On instinct, you threw yourself over the Doctor, shielding him from the plant as it exploded.

And covering you in orange pollen.

You leaned your head into the Doctor’s chest, coughing slightly as the dust settled, twirling into the air. You rubbed your free hand on the back of your neck, and, when you inspected it, you saw that it was the same bright orange that the bulbs had been.

You let out a startled, yet delighted laugh. “Okay,” you said. “That wasn’t what I was expecting.”

You turned down to the Doctor, your laughter subsiding as you looked at him – truly looked at him. His eyes were so bright here, and they sparkled under the complimentary blue lights from the tress above. You loved this face, with its big ears and soft lines, and imagined all the stories that had been marked on this skin, every laugh, every frown.

The Doctor watched you, as if he was looking at you for the first time. You felt his pulse underneath you, wild and erratic, faster than any other pulse you had ever felt – which made sense, he did have two hearts.

But even for the Doctor, his pulse was fast.

He spoke softly. “You’re really warm.”

You swallowed nervously, and in a jumpy burst of energy, scrambled off of him. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” he said, and he held his hand out, pausing you in your tracks. “It’s not a bad thing,” he ran a finger through his hair, which didn’t fully work since it was cut so short, and let out a small, irritated groan. “Sorry, I’m not good at this stuff.”

“This stuff?”

He jumped up. “You humans,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at you. “You’re so… complicated, with all those needs packed up in tiny, squishy little bodies.”

You pulled your mouth into a small, annoyed frown. The Doctor was notorious was deflecting, but it didn’t make it any less irksome. “I don’t know why you’re calling us tiny, you’re about the same size as the average of any other human bloke.”

He looked at you aghast. “I’m not like any other human bloke.”

“You’re not,” you agreed. “You look it though.”

He grumbled at you slightly, but whatever he said was lost to you. He straightened, and suddenly the mood was dropped. “Where’d Rose and Jack get off too? Any idea?”

“I lost Rose just before I found you,” you stood up, wiping your hands on the side of your jeans. It left bright orange streaks, reminding you of paint. “And I’m assuming you’ve lost Jack.”

The Doctor pulled out his own map. “Ah, right,” he said. “Well, there’s two dots near the exit, they must be together.”

You nodded. That made sense, you guessed. Split you all up only to throw you into different pairs. That seemed like the sort of thing recently fixed half sentient pathways would do.

Anything was possible.

The Doctor eyed you for a moment, then broke out into a wide grin.

You looked down at your person, and then back to him. “What is it?”

“You’re orange,” he said.

“Yes,” you replied, not really understanding where the comment came from. “I jumped in front of the weird orange pollen explosion. It’s sort of the natural consequence.”

“It’s just…” he paused, trying to find the word. Then, he brightened. “Unexpected.”

You raised a confused eyebrow. “Pardon?”

He made little grabby hands toward you. “C’mere, would you.”

You stepped towards him until you were almost nose to nose. He was so close, you could see the way tiny specks of gold were flecked in the blue irises of his eyes, could feel the heat radiate from his body. His hands hovered over your frame, momentarily unsure. “May I?”

You swallowed nervously. “Yeah, sure.”

He took your hand and raised it, then spun you outwards. You twirled, stumbling slightly as you gauged the movement. You watched as the orange fell off of your body, falling into the air. The Doctor pulled you back in and you stood still, watching as the orange dust hung in the air.

Then suddenly, it glowed.

It was brilliant. The dust shone like individual pinpricks of bright golden light. It danced around you, as if holding a mind of its own, and it swung in between the two of you.

You watched in wonder as the dust seemed to shift, pulling the rest of the bright orange off of your clothes. It felt like you were standing among fireflies, and the area felt all warm and cosy.

The Doctor let out a delighted laugh. “Orange Fluxroot,” he said triumphantly. “The dust glows when you do something unexpected.”

“Like dancing,” you suggested.

“Exactly,” he grinned at you.

You watched the golden dust, and marvelled in the way it seemed to move with the breeze, swaying to and fro. “How does it work?”

“No one really knows,” the Doctor said, and he was still so close. His arms were resting over yours, and his head was so close you could feel him speak. He began to sway you both side by side, and you realised for a moment that you were dancing. You twisted your arms around his neck, and held yourself against him

The Doctor continued. “We don’t know if it’s sentient or not, could be murderous for all we know,” there was a cheeky glint in his eyes as he said the last part, and he knew it wasn’t true.”

The golden dust spun around you, lifting away the gravity. They twinkled above you, and it cast you both in such beautiful light. The Doctor smiled at you warmly, but also shyly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing.

“Ah,” you said, going along with what he had said. “So I saved you,” then you added, like an afterthought. “That’s a nice change.”

The Doctor gave you a quizzical look. “How d’you mean?”

“Well,” you said. “I got you away from the murderous orange pollen.”

His grin grew, becoming more sure, less shy, and you loved it. You loved that smile, he deserved to smile – he certainly didn’t do it enough.

“You’re amazing,” he said, so suddenly that you stumbled over your feet, stepping on the Doctors toes.

“Sorry?”

“Just…” he thought about it for a moment, how to describe it to you. “A place like this, for me it’s old hack. I know half this universe like the back of my hand, but for you, it’s all new. I love seeing the universe through your eyes,” he said. “It’s like rediscovering joy. You remind me why I love this.”

Oh.

That was, well. You weren’t sure where to begin there, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy. It curled into your toes and to the tips of your fingers.

You smiled softly and absentmindedly chewed on your lower lip, trying to think of what to say. You noticed the Doctor’s gaze flicker down to your mouth, and you cocked your head to the side with all the subtly of a bull in a china cupboard. He blushed, his face going a fascinating rosy colour. You weren’t sure you had ever seen the Doctor blush before, and you wondered why he currently was.

It took you a moment.

Then another.

And you realised, quite starkly, why he was blushing, and what he was thinking.

Then, you decided to be entirely bold.

“So,” you said. “Because I saved you and all, I think you owe me.”

The Doctor gave you a small frown. His face was still delightfully pink. “I do?”

You nodded sincerely, and the Doctor twirled you around the dirt path.

The Doctor gave you such an earnest look, that, for a moment, you found it jarring. "Fine,” he said. “Whatever you like.”

You poked your tongue against the back of your teeth, trying to will your nerves into letting you say what you wanted to say. You studied his face for a moment, he really was so close, all it would take would be a slight turn of your head and then…"Kiss me."

His eyes widened, and then flittered around your face, as if trying to gauge if you were serious. You felt your heart thunder away in your chest, like at any notice it was about to hammer its way out.

The longer he took to respond, the more you noticed. Your palms felt sweaty, your head felt a little dizzy, as if it were going all fuzzy and cloudy. You stumbled over your feet again, but, mercilessly, missed his.

Then, very slowly, the Doctor gave you a delighted grin. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Please.”

And he pressed his lips against yours.

The golden dust was gone, so was those trees with the bright blue leaves, and those infuriating paths that changed direction. It all left your mind. The only thought you had was him, was your Doctor, and the way it felt to be kissing him.

It was like… fire. Your brain lit up, and your body went warm all over. You were hyperaware of him, where his arms were, where your body was against his, and what you were doing with your hands. The Doctor’s hands were wrapped around your waist, and you ran your fingers into his hair pulling yourself flush against him.

You were the one to pull away, your human lungs weren’t as capable as his, and the Doctor chased for your lips. You breathed heavily, and gave him a delighted smile that probably came off as slightly insane.

The Doctor grinned, brighter and harder than you had ever seen him before.

You rested your head against his chest, and the Doctor began to sway again. It wasn’t really like a dance anymore, the way he held you, it was like a hug, like he was protecting you from the rest of the universe, holding you safe.

After a moment, you spoke, your voice soft. “We should find Jack and Rose, shouldn’t we,” but the suggestion was hollow. You weren’t really ready to leave yet.

“Let’s stay here for a little while longer, yeah?”

So you stayed, for just another five minutes.

And you danced.

[snowpeawritings]

oh hear is a fun scenario Kill la kill Ryuko's and satsuki reaction to there male S/o saving them whiles wearing senketsu / junketsu (yep in the activated forms) and their male S/o looked hot whiles wearing them

Reader is male

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Swearing, suggested sexual content, diverging from canon events, slight gore, blood tw, slut as an insult is used once

❄ Snowpea’s words: THIS REQUEST SOUNDS SO FUNNY BUT I LOVE IT SDFDSFLH

| Ryuko Matoi |

God, why did anyone allow students to have military-grade weapons? Carrying Senketsu in your arms, you hurried across the broken debris of the school as you tried to find some semblance of another human person. Goddammit, of all days that a random Satsuki-lackey could attack, why on a day where you had to submit files for the teachers? Sometimes you curse yourself for being a class president. But you had to hurry. It was your fault that your girlfriend is practically defenseless without Senketsu. God, why would you reassure her that she didn’t need Senketsu when you two are in the lair of your enemies? Why are you such a bad boyfriend? Feeling a tug on your arms, you looked down to see Senketsu’s only eye looking annoyed. You raised your eyebrow, only to wonder if you were monologuing your self-hatred on being a bad boyfriend. You stretched his fabric, glaring at the eye on the collar. “Can it! I’m very stressful right now!” Jumping on a concrete ledge, you carried yourself up and scanned the area with the leverage. This is was left of the cafeteria, you recalled, you were sure you saw Ryuko running in here as soon as the rando attacked. A tug from your arms and soon Senketsu was pointing at a certain direction. Your eyes widened, looking at where he was pointing and you felt your heart jump out of your throat. Her battered body slumped against the counter, looking so foreign when you were so used to her having less clothes on when she’s injured. ... That came out wrong but regardless, you hurried to her. Senketsu already extending his sleeves just so he could reach her but a giant force stopped you in your tracks. Skidding your feet on the ground, you nearly stopped in front of a giant syringe. It’s eerie-looking liquid made you squirm as you stepped back. Looking back, you gasped at the skimpy nurse outfit the assistant student was wearing. You recognized her as one of the student assistants that helped the nurse when she was out of commission but you never talked to her before. You tried your best not to squirm at the amount of skin she was showing as she twirled a scalpel in her fingers. “Look at you, little student assistant! How adorable that you came here for you girlfriend!” You steeled yourself, clutching Senketsu like he could comfort you. “Shut it. I’m not above hitting women, you slut.” She immediately raged, taking more scalpels from behind her (how does that tight thing hide those scalpels?) and brandished them dangerously. “No one gets to call me a slut and gets away with it!” You yelped when she threw them at you. Your legs immediately running behind any obstacle that could block them but you were fucking sure she must’ve taken strength enhancement drugs because of the scalpels stabbing right through the concrete, leaving holes after its wake. It only took one lucky swipe on your cheek to make you flinch. Soon, three more scalpels stabbed you in the calf as you screamed in pain. Crumpling down on the ground, you clutched Senketsu tightly around you. Tears of pain formed in your eyes but you refused to let them fall in fear of fueling her ego even more. “Who said you were going to hit me?” She cackled, hearing something move from the ground as something metal skid across the debris. You gasped, taking gulps of air as you crawled away from her. Away from danger and try to recuperate but all you could muster was pained gasps before ultimately slumping down on the floor. In your delirious haze, you heard Ryuko’s voice screaming out your name. It was a welcome voice but it wasn’t enough to wake you up. Black spots soon spread to the corner of your vision as you let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, Senketsu.” You coughed out, the fresh scar on your cheek now dripping blood. “Guess your gonna listen to me monologue even more...” You were afraid to see any sort of sharp object come and kill you, so you closed your eyes and awaited the final blow. Senketsu struggled in your grip, feeling his sleeve wipe against your cheek where it was bleeding. You chuckled weakly. Leave it to Senketsu for comforting you, huh? ... Why do you feel so cold? Opening your eyes, you looked down to see Senketsu stripping your clothes hurriedly. The sight alone made you wake up and scramble to get Senketsu off of you. In your panicked state, you could barely register an ‘Oh my!’ from the skimpy nurse or Ryuko’s aghast screams at Senketsu. With you only in your undergarments, you shivered at both the blood loss and the cold before Senketsu opened his giant maw. You couldn’t even let out a scream before you felt the kamui swallow you whole. Outside of the kamui transformation, Ryuko could feel her heart jumping out of her chest when she saw Senketsu swallow you just like he had with her. What would this mean? Does this mean you’ll sync with Senketsu? Will you get to hear Senketsu? Would you suffer blood loss like she has before? Those questions rang across her mind like a bell but she didn’t even question the most important part until the transformation finished. Feeling blood rush to her cheeks, she screamed out an “Oh my fucking god!” Senketsu said in passing that her father had worn Senketsu, the image not wanting to be imprinted on her mind so she pushed it back to the farthest reaches of her mind. But seeing you don Senketsu had brought all of the embarrassment back full force. Your entire upper torso was naked, letting the entire world see your chest and stomach as the sleeves covered your arms and neck. Senketsu’s eyes were still the same, sitting in front of your clavicle as he stared at you in concern. She was sure he was asking you if you were okay. That’s not even the last of it. Looking down was a horrible plan when she saw the skin-tight black and red suit hugged your legs deliciously. She saw how the skin just spilled from the clothes as the pants were hung low on your hips. She hated it even more when the lines and the suspenders pointed straight at your crotch area and oH GOD DON’T GET HER STARTED WITH THE CROTCH AREA-- “Senketsu!” You screamed at the kamui, stretching the suit on your thighs like it would help. “What the fuck?!” [Sorry, but you were going to die.] He stated simply before his eye moving towards the assistant nurse. She still looked dazed, a hot blush painting her cheeks as she stared at you in hunger. [And you’ll still die if I continue to drain you, so hurry up and get her already!] You gulped, cringing at how the suit on your neck stuck to the skin. You sighed before crouching down, arm brought back and glared at the offender. With the combined strength of Senketsu, you jumped, going at almost lightspeed before throwing your fist at the girl’s face. Feeling her bones crack under your fist brought you a sense of euphoria as she was sent flying across the room. Her now-unconscious body broke through the wall and the wall after that and soon, there were 4 holes in the shape of an assistant nurse. Steam from Senketsu poured out from you like a pipe. You breathed in and out heavily, the rush exhilarating to you. Quickly realizing about your girlfriend, you whipped your head to see her only to find her absolutely red and steaming. You hurried to her and if it was possible for her to be flustered more, it’s happening as you knelt in front of her and carried her away from the rubble. Since you have godlike strength now, it was a cinch to carry her with even one arm. “Babe! You okay?!” Oh god, she can feel your pecs oh god this is more skin she’s touching in her lifetime oh god oh shit oh god-- “Ryuko?” You questioned gently, not wanting to surprise her out of her flushed-stupor. You could see her eyes trying not to stare at your chest or your crotch but it was incredibly obvious. [... She’ll be fine.] Senketsu said after a beat. If one were to listen closely, one could hear the mirth in his voice when watching Ryuko getting turned on from you wearing him. [We should go home and get treated immediately though.] You nodded at Senketsu, securing Ryuko more firmly in your hold (and making her break down even more) as you hurried to the Mankanshoku’s place. Maybe one day, Senketsu thought, he would make you wear him again just to tease her.

| Satsuki Kiryuin |

“God fucking dammit--” You seethed, adjusting your belt to cover your crotch more. “I’m gonna murder that fucking blonde bitch I swear--”

Trying to aim at Nui, your finger hovered over the trigger before the modified sniper rifle shot the specialized needle. The needle to stop Nui in her place flew across the air before impaling an empty space.

You cursed, hearing the blonde bitch’s giggling.

Getting away from your position, you hid for cover as you reloaded your rifle. You took a glance as you do, the reloading becoming second nature to you. The battered down slums of the city made the situation even more dangerous as a dense fog crawled into the vicinity. The tall, dingy houses for squatters towered over you as you controlled your breathing.

You, Satsuki, and Nonon were supposed to be back at Nudist Beach base. It was supposed to be an in and out mission. But some fucking blonde bitch had to step in and ruin everything for the heck of it.

Sucking in a breath, you whipped around the corner of your cover, rifle aiming at the air before gasping at the sight.

“There you are!” Nui said gleefully, waving Satsuki’s lifeless body like a light stick. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up!”

Satsuki’s battered body made your blood boil but it made you furious even more when Nui waved her around like she was nothing. What made you afraid even more was that she wasn’t wearing Junketsu. The sight of her being only in her undergarments while Nui paraded her around had never made you want to stab the needle right through her other eye.

You gripped your rifle, taking aim at Nui. “Drop her or I’m fucking dropping you.”

She giggled, dragging Satsuki’s body in front of her. Blood dripped down from her numerous cuts, decorating the ground as her limbs swayed. You could see her chest still moving but it doesn’t ease your worries.

“Don’t you dare or else you might drop your partner!”

You snarled, hands shaking on your weapon. Satsuki’s bangs covered her eyes as her mouth was hung open. But you could see them moving for a small moment.

Your heart dropped.

You nearly dropped your rifle but you took hold. Seeing Nui’s stupid smile behind Satsuki’s shoulder made you fume but you can’t just tear a whole through your girlfriend. Even if she wanted you to do it.

You were sure Nui would’ve been impaled just to see it too.

You slowly lowered your rifle all the while glaring at Nui but not until the shrill shriek of “Aim your fucking rifle back, overachiever!” before feeling cloth cover your vision.

Nonon, who was trying to find you and Satsuki ever since being separated from you two, breathed heavily from constant shouting and carrying Junketsu. Yes, while she had proper vocal training and breathing exercises so that it wouldn’t tire her easily, having to carry a sentient kamui was hard enough as it is. She was careful not to nick her skin on anything sharp so that Junketsu won’t react.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” She started, staring at Junketsu eating you whole, “but I sure hope something good happens!”

She then turned to her best friend, glaring at Nui as she stared in curiosity at your transformation. “Hang in there, Lady Satsuki! I’m sure your boyfriend can handle Junketsu!”

Hearing the transformation stop, she quickly turned to you, about to bark orders but could only let out a squeak of embarrassment.

The transformation ended, leaving you wearing a version of Junketsu that was reminiscent of how Satsuki wore them. Your entire upper torso was naked, save for Junketsu’s ‘eyes’ covering your shoulders and your arms which were covered with the white and blue sleeves.

What made it worse is that the suspenders pointed all down to your crotch area, the frills on the thigh-highs accentuating the spilling of your skin over the boots. Nonon, as Satsuki’s best friend, tried to avert her eyes from you but the sight of you looking so fucking sexy wearing Junketsu was forever imprinted in your mind.

“Oh?” Nui drawled out. “How interesting! The lover wearing the kamui and withstanding its hunger?”

“Hey!” Nonon screeched, glaring at her despite the redness on her face. “Don’t you dare ogle him!”

Satsuki, who was nearly unconscious for the whole time, twitched under Nui’s grip. She coughed out blood as she stared at you. You were still standing proud, your rifle aimed at Nui with newfound vigor as the strength that flowed through Junketsu now flowed with you.

She never could’ve been prouder for you.

Amidst her weakness, she smirked at you, printing the image of you standing proud wearing Junketsu in her mind. “Make her pay.”

[babuis]

Who Needs Memories? [Chilumi] - 1

Genre: Long Fic

Word Count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Lumine is not naive. Through her thousands of years living, she should know better. Should have learned better. She knew better then to trust someone who threw her insecurities into her face. So why was she here, standing in the room of the person who betrayed her while wanting to give him another chance?

Or

Events from before the Golden House between Childe and Lumine to the unreleased future.

A/n: I’m deciding on whether I want to pursue this as a long fic in my google docs. Tbh I can really only write for Genshin when I’m in this strange, dreamy, longing mood where I wish to leave everything behind and enter the world of Genshin- it just feels so inviting and like home for some reason.

Pulled this out of my ass Bcs I’m in that mood rn. Sadness makes me poetic (but I’m not sad? Genshin gets me in a very dreamy mood)

So imma test it out by seeing how it’s received. Should I make this into a longer series?

Story starts before golden house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lumine couldn't go back to sleep. 

This wasn't a new development. Since arriving in Teyvat, she had fallen victim to many sleepless nights or sleeps that were interrupted by night terrors she couldn't quite remember until much later when it was no longer important. Sometimes when she did sleep, her dreams would be filled with fragments of memories from the thousands of years she lived with her brother from world to world before all of this that refused to leave her mind.

Tonight she had dreamed about the time when they weren't in a particular world, but rather the period in between where they simply existed in the clouds.

Lumine and Aether sat on a large cloud, staring into the expanse before them. They sat with their knees hugged to their chest, feeling the last rays of the sun brush over them before nightfall. 

"Hey Aether?'

"Hm?"

Lumine sighed as she lay lazily on her back. Her body sunk into the soft pillows of cloud ever so slightly and she stared up into the infinite abyss of the sky above their heads.

"Do you ever wonder what else is out there?' she questioned him, reaching her hand up, "We've been to so many worlds already. Will there be a point where we no longer learn new things?"

Aether scoffed lightly, turning his head to look at his twin, "We've been alive for thousands of years, have you yet to come to a world and not learn anything?"

"No," Lumine admitted, "But you said it yourself, we're so old already. What if one day..."

Aether sighed again, shifting to face his sister fully, "Don't worry about it. Worlds may be similar to each other. We may just arrive in them to fight a little, but there' always been subtle differences that make each special."

"Hmm," Lumine hummed, closing her eyes as a chill brushed over her body, "Do you think mom ever got bored?"

"Bored? She had twins."

Lumine chuckled lightly, "Yea, she did, didn't she?"

They didn't speak after that. Soon the vibrant colors of the sunset turned into the cool night sky and millions of stars twinkled around them, each representing a new world. Lumine shuddered slightly, wondering if her fears were silly. With so many worlds, surely there would be new things to see. A new purpose to have.

"We should go to that one next," Aether said, pointing to the brightest star to their left, "Burning up real bright."

Lumine nodded, shielding her eyes a bit from the light, "Sure is."

Aether lay down, settling beside her, "Go to sleep, Lumi," he said softly, "we got a new world ahead of that."

"Hmm," she hummed again, closing her eyes.

Soon, her brother's breathes turned steady as he fell asleep. She gave him one last peek before she too, succumbed to slumber. 

Even if they explored all the worlds there were and learned everything there was to know, she would be okay just as long as she had Aether by her side to navigate her life with her.

And then he was gone.

Lumine shuddered as the wind blew towards her from the water. It seemed to be particularly cold in Liyue that night on the harbor. She sat on the wooden dock, letting her slender legs hang over the edge. The stars shined above her, much like they had in her dream.

Except this time she was sitting on the hard dock instead of the fluffy clouds and she was alone.

Her hair tickled her cheek as she dejectedly thought about Aether. They had come to this world, the brightest one to their left, together, only to be separated. They had never separated before and the anxious heaviness that took permanent hold of her chest became heavier as she remembered her dream.

I miss you Aether.

This world had been shockingly new from the rest of the ones she had visited. With it's divisions between the archons and people, it seemed like this world was made up of multiple ones with a complexity that she kept getting dragged into.

It was something her past self would have marveled excitedly at- there was just so much to learn. But without Aether, without her rock through it all, it almost seemed meaningless. Her only purpose now, was to find him.

Perhaps this is what she got for wishing for a new purpose in life. If she could go back and take it all back, she would.

"Hey girlie, it's dangerous for you to be so lost in thought this late at night. A bad man could come and sweep you away."

Ah, Childe.

Lumine turned her head to see the blue eyes ginger standing behind her, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked down at her. She licked her lips, turning away from him.

"What do you want, Fatui?" she asked harshly, "If you push me in the water, I'll blast you all the way to the stone forest."

Childe raised his hands up in surrender, a throaty chuckle making its way out of his mouth, "No need to be so hostile, I thought we shared a more intimate relationship than that."

"I'm warning you," Lumine said again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Childe took a seat beside her, looking into the distance where she was, "I would never, girlie. I'm a bad man but I wouldn't push an unsuspecting lady into the water."

"Sure you wouldn't, Fatui," Lumine said with disdain.

"I wouldn't," he repeated, "What are you looking at? Actually, what are you doing up so late? It's well past your bed time."

Lumine snorted, "You're not older than me."

"I'll have you know I'm a young adult," Childe protested.

Lumine gave him a wry smile, "As am I."

"You don't look a day older 18," Childe hmphed, "Pray tell, Ojou-chan, how old are you really?"

Lumine finally glanced at the ginger who was staring at her with curious eyes, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually," he said, not looking away.

'You wouldn't even be able to fathom it if you tried,' Lumine thought to herself, 'nor is it safe for me to tell you.'

Childe stared at Lumine some more, refusing to be the first to look away. Her golden eyes burned with something he couldn't quite place, but were at the same time quite hardened. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows were softly furrowed into a stern looking pout. 

'How cute,' he mused to himself, 'too bad you're just a pawn in Tsaritsa's game.'

"You don't trust me," he settled on saying, his mouth quirking to the side.

Lumine finally looked away, making Childe celebrate internally, 'ha! I win!'

"Why should I?" she muttered.

"I get it, La Signora gave you a bad impression," Childe said, "But like I said, I don't particularly like her either. I'm the black sheep of the Harbingers you know, we're not all like her."

Lumine didn't say anything. If she learned anything from her extensive existence, it was to not trust a man like Childe.

"Fine, then answer this for me since you're unwilling to share," Childe caved, "What are you doing up so late?"

Lumine shrugged, "It's not late. If I'm correct, it's a new day."

"Fine smart ass," Childe sassed her, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I guess I'm an early bird then," Lumine said vaguely, not wanting to mention her lack of sleep.

"Great answer."

The two sat in silence again, the breeze blowing even harder. Lumine shivered again at the wind's caress which prompted Childe to shrug off his jacket to give to the blonde. Lumine noticed and put her hand up to stop him hurriedly, not wanting to create even more debt to the Harbinger.

"You're cold," Childe insisted, "Take it."

Lumine frowned, "No, you're cold. You take it."

"Ojou-chan," he said, exasperated, "I'm from Snezhnaya, a bit of wind isn't going to kill me."

Lumine raised an eyebrow, "I use Anemo powers, a little bit of wind isn't going to kill me either."

"But it'll make you sick."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

She knew it wouldn't. It had been a very long time since Lumine had gotten sick, the last time being in a world with giant man eating beings. The only reason for her sickness, of course, wasn't her health, but the disgusting stench of dead bodies.

Lumine stubbornly stood up and started walking down the dock back towards the center of the town where she was staying. She was done with this conversation- done with him. However, Childe seemed to have other plans as he followed the petite girl down the paved road.

"Stop following me," came Lumine's cutting words, not even bothering to look back.

'Charming,' Childe thought as he ignored her words, "It's dangerous for a pretty girl to roam around the town in the dark."

Lumine simply rolled her eyes, coming to a halt in front of a random building, "I'm not in danger of the Milleleth anymore, and I'm sure I could handle some petty thieves if I did a dragon."

"Ah, that's right. I'm talking to the Hero of Mondstadt here," Child said teasingly, 'and the biggest pain in the ass to Tsaritsa.'

Lumine gave him an unimpressed look, "I suppose that's right, so as you can see, I can handle myself."

'If anything, you're the biggest threat in this town,' she thought distastfully.

"Alright then, Ojou-chan, I'm off-"

Before he could finish his goodbye, he was cut off by a large growl emitting from Lumine's stomach. For the first time that night, Lumine lost her composure and blushed a bright red and her body burned hotter than the sun despite the chilly morning air. Childe paused, blinking twice, before busting out into laughter that caused the girl to further lose composure.

'Damn this near mortal body!' Lumine cursed, 'I never had to eat this often before!'

"Hahaha!" he laughed heartily, clutching his sides, "Did you perhaps eat the dragon to defeat it?" he teased her.

Lumine growled, "Shut up," she said hotly.

"Say, why don't I take you and Paimon to get some food then?" Childe suggested, "I'm sure you're hungry and you wouldn't turn down free food when you lack Mora."

Lumine grumbled quietly to herself, knowing he was right. She had very little Mora left thanks to Paimon spending so much on food and she was admittedly hungry. Hunger was a foreign concept to her body up until recently, and she detested the very idea of it.

"Don't be stubborn Ojou-chan," Childe persisted, "I did afterall, save you from the Millelith didn't I?"

Lumine begrudgingly nodded her head, "Fine," she said quietly, "Let me get Paimon first."

And so they walked side by side to her inn- that he helped he book- to fetch Paimon and go eat. They walked leisurely, as if they weren't two people that were on drastically different sides. They walked as if they were acquaintances- as if they were friends to the unknowing eye.

Lumine knew she shouldn't. She should have stopped all interaction after that one time he helped her out by clearing her name. Shouldn't have accepted the help nor the Mora from him- no matter how broke she was. She could have found a way or slept on the outskirts of the town. She shouldn't be accepting his invitation to eat.

What was wrong with her?

Teyvat had proved to be full of surprises, her behavior being one of them. It had been months since she woke up from her slumber. When was the last time she had stayed in one place for so long? Fought off monsters for other people rather than the thrill of the fight?

It didn't matter, Lumine supposed. What mattered was finding her brother and what happened after that would be a future Lumine problem. What else was there to do after finding her brother? What was the purpose of her world hopping?

Lumine no longer remembered.

As they neared the inn where she left Paimon, she could hear the floating girl's shrill and angry voice scolding her for leaving. Paimon's voice only turned more sour when she saw the Fatui next to her.

"Lumine!" the pixie exclaimed, "You can't leave to go rendezvous with the enemy!"

Lumine  gave the little girl an unimpressed look, "I did no such thing, he's cashing in a favor."

"A favor?" Childe interrupted, "Considering I'm paying for your food, I'd say I'm doing a service and you know owe me a favor."

Paimon looked angry for a second, "Lumine! You can't just- wait, did Paimon just hear you say food?"

"Sure did little one," Childe grinned, "Come on, it's my treat."

And just like that, Paimon's anger disappeared at the promise of something warm to fill her stomach. Constellations materialized around her floating body as she followed the ginger to a restaurant he claimed that he knew 'they would just love.'

Lumine lingered at the steps of the inn, staring up into the sky that was now painted with the vibrant colors of the sunrise. 

What was the purpose of her life?

Lumine basked in the warmth of the sun and found comfort in the lack of visible stars in the sky.

Lumine didn't remember.

Perhaps she never knew.

[devildom-dedicated-daydreams]

Afterstory (Diavolo)

Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince

@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3 

“Princess … ”

Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.

Diavolo chuckled drily.

Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.

Chuckling became laughing.

His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.

“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”

“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.

His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.

“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.

The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.

The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …

How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?

If only … if only he stayed with her.

“Unholy beast!”

Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.

The red dragon roared into the sky.

The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.

Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.

“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.

There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--

Half their faces were melted off.

“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”

The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.

“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”

Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.

Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.

Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.

Life seemed to overflow

Gabriel barged inside the cottage.

The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.

“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”

A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.

“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”

Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”

The angels exchanged glances.

“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”

“Diavolo--”

“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”

“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”

“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”

“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.

Your soul was gone.

Your soul was gone.

Your soul was gone.

But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Gone--

You were gone.

Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.

“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”

“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.

Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”

“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”

“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.

“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”

The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.

“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”

Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.

“You win, princess. You always win.”

Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.

The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.

His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”

“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”

“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”

“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”

“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”

“I suppose … ”

“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”

Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”

Drakul sighed again.

“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”

He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.

“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”

“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”

“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”

Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”

“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”

A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”

Author’s note:

If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.

Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.

And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧

(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)

Oh, and by the way--

I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.

Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:

The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.

What was the third party interference at the end?

Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo. 

Will MC have a harem?

Who knows.

Hope that makes things clear :D

(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)

Until the next arc, my dear readers!

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily Pt. 1

warnings: none

Eventual Zuko x Reader, ~1500 words

summary: Y/N has been on the run for months, and is making her way to Ba Sing Se for a new beginning. Meanwhile, she struggles to remain undetected and hide her secret from her newfound friends, while struggling to hide the truth from herself. 

This is my first ever series!! I’m a bit nervous, and I have to warn you that my updates might not be very frequent. I’m finally back to in-person classes, but I’m hoping to update more over my winter break!

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 |

“Bihun, stop it!” Y/N giggled as her brother chased her around the garden. Their mother watched on as she stood on the steps, smiling at her children. Y/N and Bihun stumbled to ground, giggling up at the clouds. A man in green and yellow robes walked out of the house, his mustache and beard unable to hide his scowl.

“Papa, papa, papa!” Bihun laughed, running to grab on to the man’s legs. Y/N’s father gave a weak smile and patted Bihun on the head.

“I need to speak to your mother, son. You stay out here and play, and Sava will fetch you when it’s time for dinner.”

Y/N watched her mother stand up, and she looked a little sad as she followed her father.

“Race you to the panda lilies!” Bihun yelled, and Y/N got up to chase him, not looking back at where her parents had been standing.

“Where are you from, pretty lady?” A greasy-looking man asked.

“Omashu,” Y/N answered sweetly. No one asked questions if you were from Omashu. “I’ll give you 3 bronze pieces for that bread.” She wasn’t one to bargain with random strangers, usually, but her stomach was twisting from the lack of food. She’d traveled two days on foot from her last village to get to Full Moon Bay, and the bread looked good.

“Only if you give me your name, too,” the man grinned. Y/N held back a grimace.

“Nama,” Y/N lied. It was the name on her fake papers. Y/N felt the lightness of her coin pouch as she exchanged the coins for the bread. She had paid an arm and a leg for those papers.

“Fuang,” the man introduced himself.

“I’ve gotta go,” Y/N interrupted before he could continue, and didn’t wait before walking away, getting in the end of a long line in front of the passport attendant’s podium. She watched as the crotchety old woman sent away a pregnant woman and her partner. Suddenly, the forgery she had purchased seemed a lot less convincing. Either way, she was out of options. Ba Sing Se was the only safe place left.

“Passport!” The attendant yelled when Y/N finally reached the front of the line. Her bread was gone—she had somehow managed to eat the whole small loaf while waiting. She cursed herself for not rationing it. She didn’t have that much money left.

Y/N handed her papers to the attendant and held her breath. The old woman squinted at the document, before taking out a large stamp and loudly slamming it down on top of the paper. She pulled out a ticket and handed it to Y/N along with her passport.

“NEXT!” The woman yelled, and Y/N quickly shuffled out of line. No turning back now, Y/N thought as she got ready to board the ferry. Ba Sing Se would be a new start. Ba Sing Se could be a permanent home.

It turned out that ferries weren’t overly comfortable. Y/N sat on the ground, leaning her back against the edge of the boat. The boat was packed with refugees, all of them looking just like her—dirty, hungry, and exhausted—but she recognized the little sliver of hope in their eyes, and knew it was reflected in her own. She wondered how far some of these people had traveled.

“Hey.”

Y/N looked up. A scrappy-looking boy about her age was standing above her, chewing on a blade of wheat grass.

“Hi,” Y/N responded cautiously. The boy seemed to sense her tension.

“I’m Jet,” he introduced himself. “Over there,” he motioned to a group off to your left, “are my friends, Longshot and Smellerbee. We’re the Freedom Fighters. Want to come over and join us?”

“I’m okay,” Y/N answered curtly, “but thank you.” Y/N had learned the hard way that you couldn’t just trust anyone.

“I understand,” Jet said, nodding knowingly. “It’s hard to know who to trust. You’re always welcome if you change your mind.” Y/N swore she saw the boy wink at her as he walked away.

Y/N couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was her nerves, or the hard wood floor of the boat, or the gentle rocking from the water, but her eyes refused to stay closed. She had half a mind to be paranoid about having her things stolen. She would’ve liked to believe more in the goodwill and kindness of her fellow passengers, but they were desperate. She knew what being desperate was like.

She checked her pack to make sure it still had all of its contents. A small knife, her map, a miserably light coin pouch, and a small golden chalice from home, which she hoped would be enough to secure a bed in Ba Sing Se.

Y/N looked up, sensing movement. She watched as two shadows moved through the darkness of the ship. I shouldn’t, Y/N thought to herself. She couldn’t afford to get in more trouble.

Y/N once again tried to get some sleep, to no avail. It seemed some other passengers were also struggling, and the ones who had managed to get some shut eye were restless, murmuring and shaking in their sleep. It made her shudder to think of the things they must have seen before they had arrived in the Bay.

Only a few minutes had passed before Y/N saw the shadowed figures once again. Jet. As the figures came into the light, she saw the defining arched brows and wheat grass hanging from his lip. And she could smell the food.

Jet and another boy were handing out food to the other passengers from large sacks that were stuffed full. She hadn’t even been able to stomach what they were served earlier, and since she was a lone traveler, she had gotten the scraps that were left after everyone else was served. The smell of food was almost overwhelming. Y/N felt her stomach growl as the two boys approached.

“Hello, again,” Jet said as he and the other boy finally reached her. The boy he was with had dark hair and a large scar over his eye—it looked like a burn. It made Y/N’s stomach twist, knowing what must have left that there. Firebenders.

“Hey, Jet,” Y/N responded. She eyed his bag of food. “Where did you happen on all of this?”

“What’s important is that we have it.” It wasn’t an answer, but she supposed she wasn’t one to ask questions. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to take, and he shook it. “Who’s your friend?” You nodded to the other boy, who seemed to be giving you a grouchy glare.

“This is Lee,” Jet responded for him. “He’s traveling with his uncle, Mushi.” Jet motioned to a rather rotund old man with an impressive grey beard, who was chowing down from a bowl they must have given him.

“Hi,” Lee greeted. It seemed he wasn’t one for words.

“My offer still stands,” Jet said, smirking at you, “if you’d like to come over and join us.”

She really didn’t have a reason not to, Y/N realized. She wouldn’t have to run once they were off that ferry. And she had to admit she was getting tired of traveling alone.

“Sure,” she answered finally, and Jet smiled, helping her up with one hand. The scowl never left Lee’s face.

Jet led the way over to where Mushi was sitting. As they approached, a kid stormed away, followed by a boy with a bow slung over his shoulder. Mushi seemed to be trying to apologize for something, but quickly forgot his troubles when he saw Y/N approaching with Jet and Lee.

“Who’s this?” Mushi asked, grinning despite the food still stuck in his teeth. Y/N didn’t miss the raise of his eyebrow and fought down her blush at the implication as Mushi looked between her and his nephew.

“This is Y/N,” Lee said flatly. “She’s Jet’s friend.” Y/N felt like pointing out that they had only just met, but maybe this wasn’t the time.

As they sat down, Jet handed both her and Lee bowls of rice and roast duck. Y/N dug in right away, while Lee picked politely at his food.

“From what I’ve heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can’t wait to set my eyes on that giant wall.” Jet said, tilting his eyes up to look at the stars overhead.

“It is a magnificent sight,” Mushi chuckled in agreement.

“So, you’ve been there before?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask. She had no clue what to expect in Ba Sing Se—all anyone ever talked about was the strength of its wall, and the safety it provided.

“Once.” Mushi wasn’t seeing them anymore, looking through the faces in front of him at some long-distant memory. “When I was a different man.”

“I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of,” Jet admitted. He turned, looking at Y/N. “But that’s why I’m going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance.” Y/N smiled warmly at him.

“That’s very noble of you,” Mushi told him, before turning and giving his attention to his nephew. “I believe that people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances.”

Pt.1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5