#maybe that's why i still drew him smiling because he is a little naive

[humbuns]

forget-me-nots; eternal love and devotion

Decided to share my piece for the collab I’m running for Malleus’s bday. Only one more week left guys, get your flowers in before it’s too late!!

[p0plotte]

white lilies and black roses.

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

flower shop

ch.2

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

He is the strongest, yet he is also the cockiest. Geto swore one day he’d get himself kicked out of jujutsu society with that attitude alone.They worked towards a world with no curses, it was a naive yet admirable cause. So young yet so ballsy, shooting for the top almost right away.One day, they’d make paradise. At least, that was the plan.

No one knew what curses tasted like. No one but him. Yet day and night he absorbed them to save innocent civilians from fatal death. Sometimes he wondered if there was a point with how they would never be able to save everyone- but still he endured it. With Satoru and Ieri by his side he was confident things weren’t that bad.

After finishing up a mission Geto walked through the more shady streets of Yongen Jaya, eyes narrow as always. He looked from the random street signs to the building they were advertising. Batting cages, bath houses, cafes….- a flower shop? He quirked a brow curiously, gaze softening up for a mere moment. Why would there be a flower shop here?

The ravenette stepped towards the shop, eyeing up the different types of flowers that cluttered the shelves of the window sill to the entrance. That’s when his eyes locked on it… A white lily. There it was again, the same beautiful flower he’d spotted within the sky just days ago. Satoru.. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but damn it was an odd one. Yet something inside him compelled him to reach for the flowers, unblinking the entire time.

A woman who he assumed to be the store owner approached slowly and smiled at him, age etched into her face. If he had to guess, she’d been running this store for a long time now. It had a melancholy sense of beauty.. It was peaceful. It definitely stood out in the alleys like a sore thumb. Yet, she probably didn’t mind. Maybe it’s what drew people there in the first place. She held out a hand and pointed to the bouquet he was holding, gaze soft as a warm spring.

“Are those for a special lady?” She asked gently, Geto shook his head almost immediately. “Ah, no. Just admiring their beauty. It’s flattering you believe I would have a girlfriend, though.”

“A handsome boy such as yourself ought to, don’t you think?”

“You’re too kind.”

He waved his hand gently to her compliment, eyes fluttering like that of a fox. People like these.. Maybe they were the ones worth protecting. He eventually walked with the woman to the counter of her small shop and passed 100 yen to her. He was surprised they were so cheap, but it was a small business.. So it made a little sense. He attempted to give her a tip but she declined it, expressing that he shouldn’t waste his money and that tipping was a sign of disrespect.

Geto bowed his head before leaving, flowers rested in his right arm. He supposed one would believe he was someone's thoughtful boyfriend buying them flowers if they looked at him..but in reality.. He had no idea why he even bought the bouquet. He had moved without thinking. Was it all.. Because of Gojo?.. He sighed, what a stupid thought. But, letting the flowers go to waste when the shop owner was so nice would be rude.

He took a few from the plastic they were wrapped in and plucked the stems from them, tying the small ends together to create a flower crown. He rested it atop of his head and began to walk through the shady streets once more.

“Idiot Satoru..”

[egotistival]

cherry's gaze was intimidating to keep. not because nathan was afraid, necessarily; just nervous that he might make a fool of himself. the question catches him a little off guard and he blinks, long lashes fluttering rapidly. "i think i just fade into the background - usually." he points out, a small smile on his face because it seems that he's underestimated her ability to notice him. still, it was flattering to hear her say that she had noticed him, and to see the proof of it so readily in her eyes. insanely good at tennis - that's usually what people noticed first about him, that he was good at some sport another. he was expecting her to stop there, as just a comment to his physical prowess, but she did not. hot... the tips of his ears burned, and he found that he wanted to look away then, not having expected to be complimented quite like that. nathan swallowed, his tongue feeling two sizes too big in his mouth and the moment her fingers found his chin, how he was forced to look upwards into her eyes, he knew that he was in big trouble. a woman had never been so... determined to make her feelings for him known, but here cherry was demonstrating that she clearly wanted him; of that he was certain. especially when her fingers grazed his own and she drew in close, her perfume washing over him like falling rain; he inhaled not-so-subtly. letting his drink go, his eyes strayed to wear liquid disappeared into her mouth, a swallow of his own mimicking hers.

the muscles in his leg jumped underneath her touch, his eyes widening just so, shock clear there. he wasn't naive to the seduction cherry was trying on him - just in disbelief. when she drew even closer to him, his eyes strayed again, down to the space where her shirt opened just slightly, revealing the tops of her breasts before he forced his gaze elsewhere, back up to her face. her lips were right there, and he was so very distracted that he barely caught the words she had uttered, simply too affixed on staring at her mouth. "cherry," there was a question in his voice, and, for once, it didn't shake when he spoke, "can i kiss you?" why he asked and didn't just kiss her, he doesn't know; probably holding on to the last piece of innocence he has or maybe he's just making sure that that's what she really wants from him - seeking assurance.

　“  do  you  always  think  that?  that  people  don’t  notice  you?  ”  cherry  wouldn’t  exactly  know  what  that  was  like.  it  wasn’t  meant  to  be  in  a  selfish  vain  –  it  was  simply  a  fact.  she could  walk  into  a  room  and  find  a  handful  of  eyes  on  her.  even though  it  was  her  looks  that  earned  her  the  lingering  stares,  it  was  her  confidence  that  captured  their  attention  and  kept  it.  unapologetic,  a  demanding  presence  …  it  was  something  that  came  so  naturally  to  her,  embedded  in  her  dna  that  bloomed  from  retired  model  of  a  mother.  even  so,  her  own  attention  was  never  drawn  to  those  that  matched  it,  but  rather  those  that  slipped  through  the  cracks.  which  is  why  she’d  been  so  intrigued  by  nathan.  it wasn't the first time she made someone blush, but she  didn’t  expect  his  complexion  to  bear  her  namesake  so  quickly.  it  was  cute.  he  was  cute.  　“  i  do.  notice  you,  i  mean.  ”  cherry's  eyes  never  broke  from  his  despite  his  wandering  ones.  she  was  good  at  it,  eye-contact,  which  she’s  been  told  could  be  a  bit  intimidating  …  like  a  predator  sizing  up  their  prey.  “  i  notice  you’re  like insanely good at tennis,  ”  a  small  hum.  “  and  that  you’re  way  too  humble  about  it,  which  is actually  kind  of  hot.   ”  a boost to his confidence, something she knew he needed to hear – and it was true, her words. it  was  only  when  she  trailed  off  had  she  finally  invaded  his  space.  “  i  notice  that  you  don’t  like  to  look  people  in  the  eyes,  ”  or maybe it was just the case with her. she reached  her  hand  out,  a  feathered  touch  slipping  beneath  his  chin  and  guiding  his  gaze  to  meet  hers.  “  it's a  shame  because  you  have  really  nice  ones.  ”  she smiled and that  touch  started  to  travel,  gently  ghosting  down  his  arm  until  fingers  grazed  his.  “  i  also  notice  that  you  like  to  keep  things  really  brief  with  me.  ” case and point presented in the curt 'nope' he gave her.  her  grip  tightened  around  his  drink,  pried  from  his  hands  only  to  bring  it  to  her  lips.  “  i’m  starting  to  think  you  might  not  like  me  very  much.  ” she arched her brow, berry  red  staining  the  rim  of  the  glass as she  took  a  sip,  savoring  the  bittersweet  sting  as  the liquid  coated  her  throat. she set the glass down and her hand found its place on his leg. tease. “  i think maybe you just needed the right company. ” and then, she leaned in. close. “  do you like my company, nathan? ” cherry knew  exactly  what  she  was  doing, presenting an opportunity ... but would he seize it?

[nineteenninety-six]

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu​

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol. 

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

-

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

[bibbykins]

Double Date

A/N: Hello my dears! I'm not done with the Jin and/or Hobi confession yet but I did write this little flashback last week and think I'm finally ready to post it! This is the situation in which Jimin discovered MC's reaction to yelling, just to clarify. As always, please hop into my ask box and give me some of that lovely feedback!

Note: This is a flashback as part of the drabble series The Household's Bunny, which I recommend reading the installments of prior to this one

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jimin x Chubby! Reader

Warnings: Lying, fatphobia, usage of the word "fat" as an insult, talks of sex, yelling, vomiting, implied previous trauma, bad friend, loser date, verbal argument, implied stalking, yandereish behavior

Summary: On a double date was not how Jimin imagined your first date with him going. Let alone, a double date in which you both are with someone else. The torture of sitting next to his ex and watching you with another man was well worth it to see you up close. He could only hope you and his "date" don't mind his blatant staring at you.

Jimin often wondered how he ended up so stupid sometimes. From prodigy orphan to absolute idiot. It was a little tragic. Here you were, back from the hospital, a smile on your face, sitting across the table from him… and he was on a date with your friend Yoora.

Sure, Yoora was fine, but she wasn’t you. That’s why they had broken up in the first place. He just… didn’t like her. Of course, he omitted the fact was that he liked someone else.

You, on the other hand, were on a date with some lowlife he hadn’t even bothered to remember the name of. Yoora had begged Jimin to go on a date, to which he vehemently denied. He had dated Yoora and things fizzled out quickly, so he saw no value in going on a date again. He only budged with her begging when she said it was for you, who was apparently too nervous to be on a date alone with this other guy. He sprung at the chance to see you outside of class, something he could only hope Yoora didn’t notice. Although, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder why you would go on a date with someone you weren’t comfortable being alone with, but maybe he was just bitter you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him.

You flashed Jimin a brief smile in between your chat with Yoora, making his mind go blank. Fuck, you were so pretty. You wore a simple white turtleneck with a brown plaid skirt and brown loafers with white socks to match. You looked unbelievably cute, even against the aged neon fabric of the chairs at the bowling alley. Not that your date appreciated just how divine you looked, hardly paying you any mind, instead looking around constantly and only really responding to Yoora.

Not that Jimin was being much better to Yoora. His eyes were constantly fixated on you, but both you and Jimin unaware of this blatant fact. He hadn’t been this close to you outside of the classroom in… well, basically ever. He watched with hearts in his eyes as you bowled your second gutter ball. He laughed as you bowed cheekily before returning to the table right as your date went to bowl.

“I’m so full!” Yoora exclaimed as you sat back down, the pizza you both agreed to share only having two slices out of it as you reached to make it a third, “I don’t know how you can eat more than one slice, y/n! Good for you.” She giggled obnoxiously as your moves faltered in setting the pizza on your plate.

Jimin’s eyes landed on Yoora’s form for the first time in the whole night with a displeased look. Her form shrunk under his sharp glare and any future taunts she had planned died on her tongue as you searched for the words to say, “She’s just keeping herself nourished for me, aren’t you babe?” Your date spoke with a slimy voice as he slid in the booth next to you and Jimin watched confusion fill your face. Jimin’s smile noticeably dropped.

"It's a little silly to imagine everything she does is for you, no?" Jimin gave your date a pointed look, all with a smile on his face, as your date also shrunk, nodding awkwardly.

The most input your date ever gave to you directly was about how hot you were or to chide at your poor bowling skills. It was a little painful watching your smile fade throughout the date, and Yoora joining in to try and make you feel even worse wasn’t helping. Jimin couldn't imagine a scenario in which any of this would make you happy, and he just couldn't hold his tongue the entire time.

“I’m just hungry.” You shrugged, figuring Jimin was just being a gentleman in lightly scolding Jihoon, “I eat when I’m hungry, hence the pizza.” You spoke simply as you took another bite. You knew what Yoora was doing. Passive-aggressive slights to your weight in front of romantic partners were not shocking to you in the slightest.

This was why you didn’t want to go on a double date with Yoora. Sometimes she was nice and funny, but other times she was like a mean girl straight out of a teen movie. This was why you considered Yoora more acquaintance than a friend since she only talked to you when she had no other friends around. This dynamic was fine enough since you hadn’t made any friends in college, so having someone to interact with was nice enough, but you drew the line at her getting this intimately involved. However, she insisted she should bring herself and Jimin along for your safety. You had joked you’d like to see Jihoon try to carry you away to kidnap you, but she didn’t laugh.

It was ironic that your weight was only funny when she was making the joke.

Yoora shrunk a bit as she watched a smile grace Jimin’s features again while you ate, “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” She spoke hurriedly out of nowhere and you gave her a small wave.

Your date resumed his survey of the building before his eyes caught sight of something and went wide, “Shit, a friend from my bio lab is here.” He murmured quite loudly before turning to you, “I’ll be right back.” He spoke in a similarly rushed tone as he made a bee-line to the restroom.

You gave Jihoon a weak smile, waving him away when you realized he didn’t even look at you for a response before getting up. Well, there goes another liar. Last night it was, “Baby, you’re so beautiful. I could see myself marrying you. Let me take you on a date and then we can come back to my place and seal the deal.” You were no longer so naive as to think a simple handjob would make Jihoon a romantic, but you did hope it would be enough motivation for him to reciprocate with skill. You hated liars, especially liars who do it to get into your bed. On top of that a horny liar with no skill.

Jimin noticed your date dodge the line of vision of his friend and sneak to the bathrooms and frowned, “Why is he going to the bathroom if his friend is right there?” He mused to himself.

“To hide.” You sighed, making Jimin jump, shocked you heard him. You looked up and saw his confusion before sighing, “He doesn’t want to be seen with me, so he’s going to the bathroom.”

Still short-circuiting from the direct eye contact he was making with you, he sputtered, “Wha- Why would-”

“Look at me.” You poked the sliver stomach between the hem of your top and the top of your skirt. Jimin admired the plush skin before snapping himself from the trance.

He shrugged, “I am, and it makes even less sense.” He finally had the determination to hold eye contact with you without his mind going into overdrive and right as you opened your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated.

You looked down at it with a frown, “Yoora wants me to meet her outside.” You mumbled, before looking up at Jimin, “I don’t think I was supposed to say that to you.” You looked at him with a sorry look, “I’ll be back.”

You pushed the front doors open to see Yoora standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently as she looked around, as if she didn’t send you the text message a mere minute ago. She caught sight of you and her eyes went wide before settling into a smug gaze, “Ah, there you are!” She smiled and it was sickly sweet, “I wanted to tell you Jihoon and I are leaving.”

Ah, she must have been looking around for his car to come around. Well, that’s saving you the awkward conversation of rejecting him, so you shrugged, “Okay.”

Evidently not wanting the nonchalant reaction you gave her she scoffed, “Seriously? You have nothing to say?” For some reason, Yoora would sometimes make it her mission to push your buttons, usually, this was by making you flustered, so you’re not sure what happened to spur on such unadulterated malice.

However, you didn’t really have the energy to dissect it so you shrugged a little more incredulously, “What is there to say? No?” You scoffed, “You guys are consenting adults, you both made a choice-”

“God, you’re so annoying!” Her increase in volume made you jump and also caught the eyes of fellow students and unaffiliated customers just trying to have a night out.

Nevertheless, you blinked wildly, “Me?!” You guffawed, “You’re the one that brought me out here to tell me you’re ditching me and your date?” The whole thing felt so ridiculous.

“Yes, you!” Her hands gestured to you wildly, “My date is oogling you and so I decide to seduce yours and you just say ‘okay’?!” Her volume was increasing and you could feel a familiar nausea pooling in your stomach, “Let me be pissed at you for stealing my date!”

“It’s not my fault I’m hot, nor does that make you less hot.” You countered, not really believing it was you Jimin was interested in, but more so Yoora he wasn’t interested in, “He just doesn’t like you. You said you knew that.” You pointed out, making her falter because you were right. Yoora told you Jimin wasn’t interested in her but she was trying to change that despite your words of caution.

“You? Hot? You’re fat!” Ah, there it was. She was evidently running out of sound reasons to be mad at you but was still not ready to just face the fact that she felt shitty her date looked at the fat girl more than he looked at her.

You couldn’t contain your laugh, “Oh, no shit? I am?” You mockingly looked down at your form, which only seemed to fan the flames.

“Just get fucking mad at me!” She shouted, wiping the smile off of your face

You sucked your teeth, “Stop yelling. You know that yelling makes me-”

She rolled her eyes before losing her mind, “What do I know about you?! You won’t even tell me why you were in the hospital-”

Now you were getting really queasy and annoyed, wanting this to end because at this point she was just yelling at you to feel like less of an asshole, “Because you’ll just tell everyone, and it’s not their business- or yours for that matter!” You felt a little bad criticizing her gossipy nature, but you knew you were going to puke any minute now.

“I’m your friend!” She spat, ironically, in a rather unfriendly manner

You scoffed, “You’re going home with my date!”

This seemed to catch her off guard, almost, almost, making her realize she was simply being an asshole, but she stuck to her guns, “He-He doesn’t even like you!”

“And yet, if we’re such good friends, you’re still going home with him to what? Prove a point to me?!” You were exasperated as you heard his obnoxious car pull up behind you, “I know now he doesn’t like me, that’s what the date was for!” You were beyond tired as you watched her eyes dart between you and the red Mustang, “But now I know that you don’t really like me either.” You sighed and this made her sight settle on your form, her gaze significantly softer.

“Y/n…” Her voice was lower, surrendering.

“It’s fine. You’re not required to like me.” You insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t lie about it.” This time, you felt a little hurt at your own words, but the bile in your throat wouldn’t give you much time to reflect on it, especially as Jihoon honked his horn, like the gentleman he was, “Well? Go on.” You gestured to the obnoxious car as Yoora got in with her head down.

Not even bothering to wait for them to drive away, you ran to the alley on the side of the building with a hand clasped over your mouth. The moment you made it to the dim-lit hallway of brick, you puked your guts out. The bile burned your throat, but you could still feel a careful hand pulling your hair back ever so gently as another hesitantly rubbed your back. The touch was calming and void of judgment. You figured someone assumed you were drunk and was used to being a hero. However, when you were finally done and stood up, you were faced with the most sought-after man of the Arts department.

“Are you… okay?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth and you had no real energy to be all that embarrassed. Vomiting took all the life out of you almost every time.

You simply turned back to look at the mess you made and cringed, “Oh shit.” You spoke slowly, “I should clean that up.” You sputtered.

Jimin merely smiled and shook his head as you turned back to him, “It’s an alleyway, come on, someone will just make a worse mess in an hour.” He handed you a water bottle, “Go ahead and rinse.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, his looks were more than enough to make you feel flustered. He seemed to read your eyes as he turned around.

“Thanks.” You spoke up after you rinsed, “But-”

“Let me drive you home.” He waited to hear your footsteps behind him before pressing onward.

He ignored your protests the whole way to his car, brushing them off with a wave of his hands. You had figured it was just him being cool, but the reality was that he was mentally hyping himself up. Now with his anger at Yoora and your date dissipated, he was back to a bumbling mess when it came to you, even if the nagging worry of what could have happened to you to make you throw up at yelling was an ever-present weight he took on his shoulders. The girl of his dream would be in his car, sitting right next to him, and that was enough to make him short-circuit. His face was getting redder and redder just thinking about it. Not that your polite and melodic voice insisting you can just take the bus helped any. Surely you had to know how beautiful you were? He never doubted you knew until today, and the notion made him frown but also, thankfully, calm down.

By the time he opened the door for you, any hints of redness on his face were obscured by the cloak of night over the sky and the dim street lamps. You gave him a short smile and he had to fight a squeal in his throat. Instead, you were met with a strained look, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he even liked you or if he was just being kind. You entered your address on his phone and he feigned looking at the route as if he wasn't familiar with the area. He then texted one of his housemates a name and a license plate number for information and wordlessly began driving.

You simply looked out the window as he seemingly studied his phone, not wanting to make his possible dislike of you worse. Although, you would prefer him not to like you at this point. You were kind of over people “liking” you by now. Jihoon had done no less than confess his undying love for you mid-orgasm and you were ashamed to admit how excited that had made you feel despite the emptiness that could be felt in the air. You had convinced yourself that could just be how love felt. How would you know any otherwise? Part of you knew you were deluding yourself, even if you would never know what love felt like, you knew it wouldn’t feel like that. It wouldn’t feel like the bittersweet taste of settling for less than you deserve in exchange for an escape from the all-consuming loneliness that surrounded you no matter who you hooked up with.

“I’m, uh, sorry Yoora did that to you. Jimin blurted out, making you look to him and making him clench the wheel.

“It’s not your fault.” You reassured him, “The whole point of the date was to see if this guy actually ‘loved’ me, or even liked me for that matter.” You couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “That post nut clarity must have made him realize he’s a huge liar.” You couldn’t hide the bitterness in your words before you took a breath, “So, how much did you hear?”

“I walked out when I heard her calling you fat.” He stumbled against the words, clearly uncomfortable even repeating Yoora.

You hummed, “Yeah, well, I guess you’re all caught up.” You looked back out the window and Jimin could relax ever so slightly, “I don’t know how I can make her feel threatened. She’s so… loveable.” He frowned at this, “I know I’m pretty, but that doesn’t make me loveable.” He wanted so desperately to say you are loveable. If you weren’t, what had he spent the last year doing? He wanted to slam on the breaks and finally tell you how captivating you are in more ways than one, but the fear of misstepping caged him into his spot as you continued on, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that no one is obligated to love me.” You seemed to be letting all the exhaustion hit you, not even bothering to stop yourself, “It’s okay. I have the next best thing, sex.” Even you seemed to be unconvinced, “Maybe if I ask everyone for sex I’ll feel as content as Jihoon.” You seemed to be getting more and more upset as you dwelled on the topic.

“Why haven’t you asked me for sex then?” Jimin wanted to slam his head on the wheel and call it a night when he heard his voice speak what should have been an offhand thought.

You giggled a bit at this, relieving Jimin a bit, before shrugging, “I don’t want to use you like I let people use me.” You blew a breath, "You called my bluff. I don't wanna use anyone."

“Why do you let-”

“I, too, get horny and lonely.” You laughed bitterly, “People just lie to me that it’s something more when it’s not. Thank goodness I’m a psych major, or else I might believe them each time.” Judging by the melancholy in your words, Jimin doubted you didn’t not believe some of them, and the notion tore his heart in half. However, he was so pinned down by his fear, he couldn’t conjure the words needed.

“I mean, there are people out there who would like you and not just your body.” He spoke and he swore he was breaking a sweat by now.

You shrugged again, unconvinced again, “I’m glad you never asked me for sex.” You murmured and he glanced at you.

“Why?” Was he not your type?

“Because I think you’re a good person,” You gave him one more smile as he pulled up to your apartment complex, “and I’d like to keep thinking that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “Thank you, for everything tonight.” He merely nodded in acknowledgment, throat strangled with a million emotions as he watched you go into your apartment.

Jimin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and drove, as if on autopilot, and let his head plop lightly on the wheel, “Pathetic display, Jimin.” He scolded with a strained voice. He hated this about him. He hated that each time emotions got too real, each time he could not hide behind a charming smile and playful banter, he would choke up. He had been a dance prodigy since birth, since getting scouted by a private school, since Mona adopted him for his career to go even further. And yet, he couldn’t confess to the girl he’s liked for over a year. Instead of staring, he wished he had just asked if you were okay.

He had never imagined you would be nearly as lonely as you felt. Anyone on campus would look at your smile and assume you were doing peachy, but by now, with his observations, he could see when you were faking. Why had he never approached you more to make you smile for real? Why did he remain complicit in fuckers like Jihoon and Yoora’s plight to make you feel less than the perfect girl you are? Who had instilled such an intense reaction to yelling in you? How many times have you thrown up in an alley alone because of the people who knew how to use someone as caring as you? Maybe if he had sat down and eaten that cookie with you, he would be driving the both of you home together.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to do so at this point.

-------

“...Jimin?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at you, all dolled up and a little sweating from performing your final for the class he was your TA for, “You still here?” You giggled as you waved your hand in front of his eyes. You had been the last one to perform, so you figured his brain was fried from watching dozens of dance performances.

His smile grew with yours as he caught your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, “Yeah, I’m here, just got swept away in your performance is all.” He responded cooly and you rolled your eyes mockingly, “I’m serious, it was beautiful.” He brought your hand up, placing a kiss on your palm.

“Well, I had a wonderful training buddy.” You interlocked your fingers behind his neck as he laced his fingers on the small of your back. The PDA made you feel giddy, like a girl in her first relationship showcasing her wonderful boyfriend to the world, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He studied your face, your form, your everything for a moment. He basked in the glory of having someone as beautiful as you within his reach at long last. He thought back to each practice session and each kiss that came with it and couldn’t help the glee that spread in his chest. The glee was only further amplified by the very emotion on your face and he couldn’t fathom how he ever lived with himself seeing a fake smile on your face most days.

“You know I love you, right?” He blurted, making both of your eyes widen. Had he seriously just done that? Had he seriously confessed his love to you while the rest of your dance class waited to be dismissed? The air was still before he spoke again, “Could you do me a favor and beat the shit out of me?” He asked, making you giggle. Your joy was contagious and he found himself laughing too, in spite of the millions of emotions at confessing his love so suddenly.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips even if you tried. There was something so weightless about Jimin’s love, yet so meaningful. Where Yoongi had been intense and passionate, Jimin was bashful yet honest. It was this floaty feeling that made you lean up to his ears and whisper, “I love you too.” You beamed at him with a genuine smile and his heart soared.

“You do?” He asked excitedly, “You don’t have to, you know?” He reassured you and you could only chuckle.

“Oh well, if I don’t have to…” You joked as you moved to pull away from him, but he pulled you closer.

“I take it back- You have to.” He hurriedly spoke, “If… If you mean it.”

You nodded, a blissful smile on your face as you leaned up to kiss him, “I mean it, and it’s really nice being able to know you mean it too.” You whispered in his ear and in a moment of pure joy, he lifted you and spun you around, not caring about who saw or stared. You squealed at this, enjoying the moment of careless affection. He set you down with a slow kiss and you couldn’t help but melt into his form.

“You ready to go home?” He asked with a gleeful tone. You nodded excitedly and watched with hearts in your eyes as he dismissed the class with his hand in yours. He was always happy to display your relationship, even telling the professor in case he didn’t want Jimin grading your work. He announced it to the class with a blissful look and posted you all over any and all social media accounts he had. He had never been more proud to have someone by his side, and it made you emotional more than once. He held your hand in his as you walked to the car, swinging your arms just to hear your melodic laugh.

You checked your phone as Jimin closed the car door when you got in, “Oh, Hobi’s flight got delayed until tomorrow and Jin has to stay late tonight.” You mumbled, deep in thought for a moment, “And everyone else has something going on, so I guess it’s just me and you for dinner. One last night of freedom before you have to be busy too.” He placed a hand on your thigh as he drove and he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to mentally hype himself up to do it each time.

“Do you want to pick up dinner or just cook at home?” He asked cooly, masking his sheer glee at the domestic implications in his question.

You hummed, “I can cook something if you want,” You noted before a mischievous smile grew on your face, “My love.” You teased the pet name, making Jimin brake abruptly as he was getting out of the parking spot, his arm holding your body back from pushing forward. You gasped before you dissolved into laughter.

“Hey! Are you trying to make me crash?!” His face was beet red as he lectured you about car safety and how words can shake his whole world the whole ride home, and you had never been more enchanted by a flustered lecture in your life.

Eventually, he was finished lecturing you and the car was filled with laughter and light quips. He wondered how he ever lasted this long without you by his side, but he was glad he would no longer have to.

Tip Jar

[scarasimplysimping]

Run Away

Scaramouche x GNReader

Sypnosis: Scaramouche remembers the time you invited him to elope with you.

Angst?

How young you both were. Naive, impulsive, and reckless. You both wouldn't last a day on your own. Scaramouche was sure to have made the right choice in rejecting you. At least, this is what he tells himself to ease the budding regret at the back of his head.

It was so vivid. The dark haired boy tried not to think about it; He really did yet he always found his thoughts trailing back to that night in his free time. It would've been a beautiful memory had it's circumstances not been so tragic.

The midnight before he became a harbringer, Scaramouche was perched on the terrace of his home with his head resting on his palm, counting the stars with a displeased and bored look.

"Scaramouche, Scaramouche, let down your hair!" The soon-to-be harbringer hears your voice from below.

His whole form perked up instantly as he ran to the railings of the terrace and sure enough, you were down there, grinning ever so mischievously.

"Quiet, you moron! Someone will hear you!" He shouts back, attempting to sound uninterested but the small curve at the corner of his lips gave away his true emotions.

You stare up at his form, illuminated by the moon. How majestic and alluring. Careful now, it would be embarrassing if he caught you drooling over him in his pajamas.

Gathering your thoughts, you start to climb your way to him. Scaramouche could only look at you with an amused expression.

"I have a ladder y,know." He says nonchalantly.

"Is it for climbing when you want to kiss me? Cause... Yknow. You're short." You joke, not bothering to look up knowing he was probably glaring holes into you by now.

"I am tempted to throw it at you sometimes."

One last step and you were sat on the railings, your faces, inches away from each other. Neither of you dare say a word that could ruin the moment for a few seconds. Perhaps both of you were trying to engrave this somewhat romantic scene into your vault of memories.

Something about his pretty purple eyes drew you in so you take this opportunity to steal a quick kiss from his lips.

Scaramouche feels the heat rising to his cheeks as he huffs in surprise. Trying to find words but ultimately failing.

"So... sixth harbringer, huh?" You start as you leap off from the railings and land closer to him.

He takes a step back to regain his composure. Going back to the bored expression he had earlier. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about this.

"Yes. Well, would you suggest someone more worthy for the title than I?" Scaramouche says rhetorically in an arrogant tone.

"Do you want it though?" You ask, leaning on the railings, with your back facing him.

You couldn't see him but you could tell he hesitated to answer. And that one split second of hesitation was enough for you to muster up your courage.

"Run away with me." You say sternly, turning to him again so you could take in his expression.

Scaramouche feels his heart beating faster in his chest, he's almost afraid you might hear it.

He chuckles nervously in response, not sure if you were joking or being serious. "Don't be stupid. You can't just waltz your way out of here."

You shake your head, glad that he was actually considering it. "Just say the word. I promise you I'll handle everything."

So you weren't joking. Still, Scaramouche wouldn't follow through with something so ridiculous and unprepared. "We've never even set foot outside of Snezhnaya."

You continue to press. "I've read enough books. Seen enough maps. We'll work it out!"

Your eyes glow with eagerness and hope, Scaramouche could almost feel himself falling more in love with you more than he already was... not almost. He actually was.

The dark haired boy starts to contemplate more on the idea of starting a whole new life with you.

"We could travel all across Teyvat." He says subconsciously.

You interlace your fingers with his, thinking you both were really gonna do this.

"Maybe settle down in Monstadt." You suggest.

"The city of freedom." He adds, locking eyes with you.

"Just a normal couple doing normal couple things." You smile, and in turn that makes him smile.

Scaramouche lays his head on your shoulder. Thinking about the beautiful future you both could have together, worrying not of combat training or fatui business. Growing old, maybe even having children, then grandchildren. Dreams of an amazing future together.

But dreams remain dreams.

You both snap out of it when you hear a knock at the door.

All of the sudden, you're back to reality and he still was gonna become a harbringer tomorrow and you're still going to lose him.

"Sir, the Tsaritsa would like to have a word." The voice at the other side of the door calls. A fatui agent.

You find a place to hide for a bit as he rudely shoos off the poor man.

Once the uninvited guest was gone, you give him a sneaky back-hug, with the hopes that the plans were still on.

"I can't." Scaramouche says in a defeated tone.

You're eyebrows furrow, slowly you let go of him. "Of course you can! Just pack a few bags and we'll be off before dusk."

"No. No one has ever went against the Tsaritsa's will and lived to tell the tale." Scaramouche states.

"You won't be going against her! Just moving away from her." You try convincing him in a shaky voice.

"No. (Y/N), listen to me. Even if we did leave we have nothing to feed ourselves. No money, no family, no authority-"

"Authority? Is that why you want to stay so bad? Because of your little power fantasy?" You retorted, later regretting it as you see the hurt in his face.

The expression quickly turns into anger. "How dare you even accuse me of that. Who do you think you are!?"

"Well I thought I was your lover."

You both stare each other down as the room's atmosphere grows heavier.

It pained him to fight with you and fights were never this serious. And Scaramouche was scared that one more persuasive sentence from you would cause him to give in, follow his heart, sweep you of your feet, and be on your way to springvale by tomorrow.

So he said what he thought he had to say, "Lover? You're just a fling. Give me a break. You're a fool if you really thought whatever we had was going anywhere." It broke his heart to lie but Scaramouche was great at hiding his sadness, or rather, disguising it with anger.

After all, you continuing to be with him as he was a harbringer would put your life in peril. He was doing the right thing... but then why did it feel so wrong?

You feel tears running down your cheeks but you still refused to believe him. How well you could see through him. Or so you hope. "You're lying."

He turns his back to you for fear of his own tears giving him away.

Scaramouche lets out a forced groan. Out of desperation, he lists things he hates about you. Personal things he didn't actually hate but had to pretend he hated. His voice laced with venom and anger, not towards you but rather the Fatui, the Tsaritsa, even the whole of Snezhnaya and it's damn snow for putting the both of you in this situation.

"-I hate that you think you can read me. I hate it when you try acting all lovey dovey with me it's disgusting. And I hate you for making me want to just kiss you right now and forget about everything but us." He lets the last part slip.

Silence

Scaramouche turns to you. You're not there. Not anymore.

Filled with regret, he runs to the railings and tries to search for you but not a trace. Not a damn trace of you and it seems you took his heart with you too.

That was the last time he saw you. Scaramouche can't help but sigh sharply everytime he recalls that night. But he treasures it. He treasures every moment he spent with you and promised to himself that when all of this is over, he will find you again and you'll finally run away, hand in hand.

[jann-the-bean]

Fluffynightkiller

Day 1: There’s a first time for everything

•

•

•

“Hi welcome to-“ The barista gaped as a violet eyed skeleton entered his coffee shop. He was entranced by how elegant the skeleton maneuvered himself inside the shop. There was something familiar about this violet skeleton, but the barista couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

The other’s posture was tall, straight, and proud. Not a single limb out of place, no wasted energy in unnecessary actions. His eyes slightly narrowed, refusing to make eye contact with others. At first glance many may view him as arrogant, but not to Ccino. He noticed the slight clenching of his fist and his once graceful strides became rigid with every step he took. As if expecting someone to lash out and attack.

The proud skeleton sat at a table distanced from the rest. From his mannerisms it was obvious he disliked socializing with others. Even when sitting he didn’t slouch, his back remained upright, and his hands delicately placed on the table. How peculiar.. Ccino only ever recalled seeing just one other being who sat in a similar position. It was-

*Ding*

Ccino was pulled from his thoughts upon hearing the door open once more. This time a skeleton with no eyelights appeared. He wore a blue fluffed hoodie, with a strange black stain, and white shorts with a black strips on the sides. One of his sockets was half closed while the other fully open. He had a smile on his face which grew to a smirk upon laying eyes on the violet eyed skeleton. But his most notable feature was a bright red soul that was displayed for the world to see. Ccino hadn’t realized he was staring, he only noticed when the other raised a brow in amusement. He placed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie before making his way to Ccino’s direction. The barista gulped, unsure if he’d somehow offended the eyeless skeleton.

“Heya sweetheart, mind preparing us a couple of drinks?” The eyeless skeleton smiled as he placed his elbow on the table while resting his head in his hand.

“O-of course! What w-would you like?” The other responded trying his hardest to stay calm. His soul pounding violently against his chest as his nerves threatened to overtake him.

“I’d like an mochaccino with an extra shot of espresso” he turned to face the violet skeleton. “What do you want, boss?”

“Just get me a black coffee.” Ccino tensed for a brief second. That voice... it sounded way to familiar. As quick as the thought entered his head, Ccino was just as quick to dismiss it. He was working, he didn’t have time to think about non-work related things right now. However, the violet skeleton made eye contact with Ccino. In that brief moment, his stern features wavered for a fragment of a second, that the barista questioned if he imagined it.

The skeleton on the countertop chuckled and turned to face Ccino once more. “Alright, there you have it. One mochaccino with an extra shot of expresso and one black coffee.” The barista nodded and rang up his total. Ccino had told the skeleton he was more than welcome to sit and wait, but the other refused stating that “The view is better from here.” A wave of heat rose to his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if this skeleton was flirting with him, but it sure felt like it. The problem is... he was quite attractive... and charming too. Curse his amorous heart and falling for those who would never return his feelings. Especially for a certain black goopy skeleton.

At some point when Ccino was preparing the drinks the eyeless skeleton had to step out for a minute. The barista had forgotten to ask for a name to call out once the order was ready. He opted to just take the drinks to the violet skeleton’s table. It would probably be better than yelling across the shop trying to get his attention.

“Uhm... I’m sorry. I forgot to ask for a name, but here are your drinks.” Ccino gently set the drinks on the table and carefully ensured not to spill the hot beverages. “C-careful.. it’s really hot.”

Being in such close proximity Ccino noticed a few things he hadn’t before. It appeared that this violet eyed skeleton only had a single functioning eyelight. The other socket was a pitch black, with various cracks surrounding it. Actually, his hands and several visible bones appeared to be fractured. What could’ve happened to such a beautiful skeleton to have so many injuries throughout his body? It wasn’t a question he dared ask. It had to be something personal, and frankly none of Ccino’s business or concern. The violet skeleton nodded to Ccino’s warning but didn’t say a word.

The day passed like any other. Uneventful, and yet again the goopy skeleton had failed to visit. How long had it been since their last reunion? Months? Perhaps even years by now? He knew that Nightmare had used him. He was evil, a manipulator, ruthless, and unforgiving. But, he wasn’t a liar. From their very first encounter he was honest about the basis of their relationship. Ccino was good source to replenish his negativity, and in turn he wouldn’t harm him or his au. At least not in any physical way. The barista new he was being used, knew that the other didn’t see him as anything else but as a charging port. And yet, his silly little heart grew fond of the other’s presence. Perhaps it was because Nightmare was the first person he spent continuous time with. He became illusioned that for as long as he was alive he would have a companion of sorts.

Yet, one day he stopped showing. Sure Nightmare had the tendency to go weeks or months without visiting. However, this time it had been longer than usual. Ccino waited and waited until he slowly began losing hope. Perhaps, the other found a more suitable companion? Maybe realized the Ccino wasn’t worth being around? Decided it was no longer worth his effort to visit his pathetic AU just to see him? Tears burned the lining of his sockets. He shook his head and wiped his eyes. No, now isn’t the time for this. He still had to close up his shop- Ccino paused. Wait, those two why are they still here? He was referring to the eyeless and violet skeleton of course.

Strange, well they were newcomers and most likely didn’t know the shop hours. The barista removed his apron and gently placed it on the countertop, before making his way towards the two strange skeletons. “E-Excuse me.. I’m so glad you decided to support my shop today. But, uhm, it’s time for me to close for the day. You’re more than welcome to come back again tomorrow. I-If you’d like to of course.”

The two didn’t answer. It appeared as if they were contemplating what their response should be. A sinking feeling began to form in Ccino’s non-existent stomach. Were they going to rob him? He didn’t have much to offer just the money in the register! He could defend himself if needed but- he was outnumbered. Maybe he could manage to escape and call for help-

“Actually, we were hoping to talk to you in private.” The eyeless skeleton stated, his soul wavering for a brief second before shifting to an upside down heart. It was so beautiful and captivating. That Ccino had to resist the urge to be lost in its marvelous glow.

“P-pardon? You w-want to talk to me? About what exactly?” The barista was rather confused. He’d never seen these two in his entire life! How did they know about him? Were they maybe some of those ‘special’ people that Nightmare talked about? How they could travel to different universes? But what would they want with him?

“Well, being honest he,” the eyeless skeleton pointed to his companion. “Was hoping to have a conversation with you.”

The skeleton in mention tensed and averted his gaze from Ccino’s. It was clearer now that he was up close. The violet skeleton exhibited signs of slight anguish and remorse in his delicate facial features. But they were quickly concealed once again. No sign of pain, guilt, anxiety, or any other emotion were visible in the single eyelight.

The violet skeleton sighed before returning Ccino’s gaze. “Ccino.. it’s been a while hasn’t it? How have you been these past months.. perhaps even a year or years now? Hard to keep track of time in the void” The barista froze upon hearing his name slip past the violet skeletons mouth. How did he know his name? Did he introduce himself earlier? No, he didn’t think so... maybe his apron? No. He took that off. Then.... how? “You appear to be surprised. Well.. that is to be expected I suppose. How would you ever recognize me without my black attire.”

Ccino drew in a quick breathe. His body already having processed who exactly this skeleton was. Hot tears filled the lining of his sockets and spilled down his cheeks. His body trembled as his mind finally realized his identity. “N-Nightmare...?”

Nightmare tilted his head in acknowledgement. Smiling as if he were praising Ccino. “I’m impressed.. but you were always smarter than you looked.” A pause. Nightmare once again averted his eyes, a flicker of doubt flashed in that violet orb of his. “I didn’t come here to waste your time. So I’ll cut to the chase. As you can see, many things have changed since we last met. Clearly I’ve changed... and more than physically.... But.... I’ve done terrible- unforgivable things and I’m not some naive fool expecting mercy or to be saved. Yet, I do believe that you.. at the very least deserve an apology.”

Nightmare rose from his chair his eye never breaking contact with Ccino’s. “I sincerely apologize for my actions, and for using you to my own benefit. As I said, I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m far beyond that. Don’t worry, you’ll never see my face again and you may live your life as you please. You are no longer shackled to me... you are free.... and this is my final goodbye.” The violet skeleton turned to face his partner. “Let’s go, Killer. We have overstayed our visit.”

Ccino couldn’t believe what he just heard. Was nightmare apologizing to him? Did that actually just happen? The once feared and powerful being in the multiverse had just apologized to him. I guess there really was a first time for everything. He blinked a few times resulting in fresh tears to stream down his face. Wait.. goodbye? Did that mean.. as in forever? No... No! No! No! No, he couldnt! He just got back! He just came back and now he’s leaving again? Now that was just cruel... how cruel and yet Ccino still couldn’t bring himself to hate Nightmare. His presence only succeeded in confirming what Ccino already knew. That he was in love with Nightmare.

Killer jumped to his feet and placed his hands in his hoodie. “Awe, you sure you want to leave so soon, boss? I don’t know, I’m sure there’s plenty to do here. Besides, how could you leave that cutie behind-“

“NIGHTMARE!” Ccino called out his voice cracking from the his sobs he continuously failed to hold back. Nightmare turned around to face the skeleton when- SLAP! The noise of Ccino’s hand making contact with Nightmare’s cheek echoed in the near empty shop. Nightmare and Killer were frozen on the spot. Killer wasn’t sure how to react. He was caught off guard and didn’t see it coming. He was half expecting Nightmare to crumble on the spot from his various fractures.

“T-that’s for everything that you’ve done to me! For using me! For leaving! For having the nerve t-to come back, apologize, and only to leave again! Y-you just want me to pretend like none of this ever happened don’t you!? To forget about you!!! Well guess what!? Screw you!” Ccino furiously rubbed his eyes trying wipe the tears away but to no avail. All his bottled emotions had erupted to the surface and there was no way to seal them away again. “How dare you?! Who d-do you think you are?! To just waltz in and out like you please!”

Nightmare turned to face the crying skeleton. He was more than confused. He was certain that Ccino would have been delighted to know he had been liberated from the chains of negativity. Free from him. He hurt him so many times, used him for his own personal gain, and never cared for his well being. So, why was he so upset now that he offered him freedom? He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when the small barista wrapped his arms around the violet skeleton.

“P-please... please stay! Please don’t leave me!” Ccino wailed as he clung to the skeleton before him. He dug his phalanges into Nightmare’s top refusing to let go, because if he didn’t hold on tight.... surely he’d disappear again. “I-I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to forget! Please! Please! Please! I’m begging.... Don’t a-abandon me.... n-not again.....” The white eyed skeleton trembled as he pleaded for Nightmare to stay. He knew it was hopeless he was begging for the impossible. All his cries and efforts for him to stay would be in vain. But, what else could he do? He had to try because maybe, just maybe the outcome may be different.

Nightmare was frozen, hands stuck in midair as he heard Ccino’s heartbroken cries. Ccino didn’t want him to leave...? Why? Why would he want him to stay? The very being that tormented him for his own amusement? Nightmare was at a loss. What should he do? Ignore the crying skeleton and leave once more? Or should he stay? Either way he wouldn’t be able to permanently stay in this AU. He’s made many enemies who would stop at nothing, until they saw him and those around him perish. He knew this, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave right now. How could he just leave this fragile skeleton? Ccino always made things more difficult then they should be. It would’ve so much easier if he resented him and despised him. He should’ve screamed for him to leave- to never come back. But no, he was begging him to stay.

Something warm and wet trickled down Nightmare’s cheek. Panic settled in for a brief moment. Was he bleeding? How? He didn’t have any injuries! He quickly touched the liquid with his phalanges and was confused to see a clear substance with a tint of violet. It wasn’t marrow/ blood. Then he realized the liquid came from his sockets... was he crying? His eyes widen slightly. He was. Post his corruption he hardly ever shed any tears. Just once with his twin brother when that forsaken curse had finally been broken. The emotions he thought he’d locked deep in his mind had resurfaced with immense intensity.

Nightmare’s body moved on its own accord enveloping the weeping skeleton into his arms. He gripped his sweater tightly trying to ground himself, fearing he’d lose himself in his own overwhelming emotions. The two skeletons wept in silence as the eyeless one watched with a solemn expression. His soul flickered and wavered as he attempted to suppress his feelings. It was painful. Watching the one he cared for hurt, knowing he wasn’t the cause but another, and seeing for the first time another skeleton suffer because of their feelings for the violet skeleton. It was.. heart wrenching.

The two skeletons cried for hours until they could no longer produce tears. The smallest skeleton ridden with exhaustion lost that battle against his heavy eyelids. He rested his head against Nightmare’s shoulders, feeling a sense a protection and safety in his firm arms. “Don’t.... go.....” the barista pleaded one last time before succumbing to fatigue and drifting to sleep.

Nightmare held the small skeleton firmly in his arms. He glanced at Killer, who had faint black tear streaks on his cheeks. Then back to Ccino who, still in his sleep, clung to him desperately. For the first time, he was at a loss on what his next course of action should be.

Wooooo! What a way to start fluffynight killer week don’t you think? I know it ends on an angsty note but I thought it was fitting! This has actually been one of my few favorite stories to write! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

This story was inspired by some incredible headcanons and by Zu’s comic lodestar! Wouldn’t have been inspired to write this story if it weren’t for them <3

Killer belongs to @rahafwabas/ @rahofy-sketch

Nightmare belongs to @jokublog

Ccino belongs to @black-nyanko

Fluffynightkiller week by @help-im-a-gay-fish

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

Whumptober No. 3: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But...

Taunting | Insults | “Who did this to you?”

Summary: Nothing could’ve prepared Geralt for Jaskier being brought to Kaer Morhen, nor for the sight of the bandages on his injured hands. Despite what happened on that mountain, Geralt wants to know who did this - who took away something so integral to the core of Julian Alfred Pankratz. But he doesn’t get the answer he thought he would.

Words: 2k

A/N: DAY THREE LET’S GOOO! And after two and a half months, I’ve finally gotten another witcher fic out! It feels good! I missed writing for this fandom so much (and it’ll help me ease back into Spider’s Thread), and this was SUCH a fun prompt fill for today. This was inspired by some of That Jaskier Content from the latest s2 trailer, and it’s... implications about the state of his hands. I hope you enjoy!

[CW: Hurt/No Comfort, Torture Aftermath, Hand Injury]

--

Nothing could have prepared Geralt for this.

No, there was nothing in this world - not even a miracle - that could’ve prepared Geralt for the moment he sensed a portal - one of Yen’s portals - outside the keep.

For the moment he ran out to a balcony and saw her there, having somehow - despite everything he believed, everything he thought he knew for certain - having survived the Battle of Sodden Hill; for the moment he’d lay eyes on a very much alive Yennefer… with a bard’s arm drawn over her shoulder to support him.

His hair was longer now, down to his jaw, and a burgundy leather jacket - adorned with ribs and folds just like that red doublet he wore as he looked down at him on that mountain, heart shattered - lay in tatters on him, bandaged hands peeking out of it’s sleeves…

He didn’t look the same - Gods knew he didn’t look the same - but Geralt still recognized Jaskier.

He was shuffled into one of the many, many spare rooms almost immediately, and Geralt tried talking to Yennefer. Of course, she’d been tense with him, but that was alright. At least she was alive to be tense with him. He’d take that over a particular alternative any day.

Speaking of tense...

The keep had never felt so cold as right now, when Geralt of Rivia stood in the doorway of Jaskier’s impromptu room. Here, the bard sat in an old chair, in front of a desk he did not look like he’d use to write on anytime soon. No, he looked at the wood slab despondently, not even seeming to notice Geralt.

So, he spoke up, speaking to Jaskier, his companion of twenty years, for the first time since that mountain.

“Jaskier… you’re here.”

Jaskier didn’t look at him, but he did speak.

“Wasn’t my idea. I didn’t know where else to go, and even if I did, Yennefer insisted - didn’t think I’d be safe anywhere else. Can you believe that? Yennefer of Vengerberg has a soft spot for me. The end of days may very well be upon us.”

His voice was hoarse. Geralt knew it must have been from screaming. His eyes drew down to Jaskier’s hands, where patches of horrendous blue and gods-damned purple peeked out from slivers of space between the bandages that showed his open skin.

“Your hands…”

“Oh, these old things?” Jaskier looked down at them,  “Well, Yenny did her best, but they still hurt like a bitch to play with. I won’t bestow new ballads on the world for a while yet. Sorry if you expected me to sing your praises…”

But his tone made it clear that he wouldn’t do that even if his hands were as good as they were that day in Posada, or in Cintra, or on that mountain…

Geralt pursed his lips, trying to hold back his question. He didn’t deserve to know, he knew that, but he had to…

“...Who did this to you?” he spat out.

Jaskier lifted his gaze to meet the Witcher’s, and he laughed. It wasn’t like before - like the sunrise in the spring, like the bloom of buttercups, like love and joy and all the things he came to equate with Jaskier’s laughter, however unconscious, unadmitted these comparisons were. No, it was an empty, sardonic, quietly angry thing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked.”

“And for what?” he asked, “So you can tear some fucker to shreds for laying a hand on me? Because you think I’m still your naive companion that would swoon at the thought of you exacting revenge on him for my sake? So you can make some grand gesture of brutality?”

“I’m not the one of us enamored with grand gestures.”

Jaskier tilted his head back and huffed. The shift in his movement made his hair move a bit, and Geralt realized he missed that little swoop - the little… floof, even - of hair that went down his forehead before, when his hair had been shorter.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said “us” about me and you.” Jaskier remarked, “Twenty years, and you acknowledge that I was something to you. Not sure what, but something.”

“You were…” 

Jaskier’s eyes widened as if he remembered something, “Oh! Right! I remember - a shitshoveler. The catalyst for all your plights, something life would bless you by taking off your hands.”

Guilt sliced into Geralt like a kikimora’s claws.

“Looks like life heard “taking” and “hands” and went straight to me…” Jaskier huffed with the ghost of amusement with himself, looking down at his hands.

“Of course you can still joke.”

Jaskier shrugged, “Not much else to do. They took my lute, and my ability to play it, but they haven’t taken my wit.”

He crossed his legs.

“The funny thing is…” he said, staring down at the cracks in the table in front of him, “There was a little bit there where, if you’d apologized, I would’ve forgiven you. But… there wasn’t a trace of you to speak of after that hunt. Nowhere I went. Not that I went looking.”

“I didn’t have time to look for you, either.” Geralt said, “I was with Ciri.”

Jaskier snapped his gaze up.

“Oh, come now, Witcher.” he said with venom Geralt only ever knew from bigoted villagers that Jaskier had tried to change the minds of with his songs before, “Does your prolonged lifespan render you timeblind, or has your head been so far up your ass for so long that you can’t even properly tell time anymore?”

“I-”

“Two years, Geralt.” he said, “A blink of an eye for you, maybe, but that’s how long it was between that damned dragon hunt and the fall of Cintra. Two years you could have found me, before Cintra fell, before-”

He snapped his jaw shut.

“Before who?”

“No, Geralt!” he snapped, slamming his hands on the table to help him stand up. It seemed that his anger stopped him from realizing how bad that would hurt, and he hissed through gritted teeth. Geralt tried to step forward, but it was like the ground between them was covered in hot coals, and Geralt’s feet couldn’t have been more bare.

Once the pain seemed to quell, Jaskier’s eyes opened, and he glowered at the Witcher.

“You don’t get to know. You don’t get to make that bastard beg for mercy and act like that fixes anything - as if it does anything but conflate your ego that is so, so massive despite how much you hate yourself. You don’t get to take revenge on my behalf. You don’t get to act like this,” he held up his hands, “is anything compared to what you did to my heart.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you DON’T GET TO SAY THAT NOW.” he screamed, killing Geralt’s words before it could leave his lips.

Geralt saw tears in his eyes as he huffed shaky breaths.

“You don’t get to say it like some off-hand statement, only brought up since it’s relevant.” he said with a wavering voice, “You don’t get to only say it now that I’m here, fallen right in your lap because Gods knew where else Yennefer could take me. And you don’t get to say it like it means anything now.”

“Now?”

Jaskier lowered his gaze.

“...I sort of figured you were embarrassed. That you were too scared to get your head out of your ass, like you are with a lot of things, but once you did, I would’ve…”

He sighed.

“But I heard you went to Cintra. Heard you went to claim your child-surprise.”

“What does Cirilla have to do with this?” he asked.

“Who do you think he asked about with each bone he broke?” Jaskier asked, snapping his gaze back to Geralt, “You? If it were just you, I would’ve…”

He sighed.

“That isn’t the point. When I heard that after twelve years of running from your claim, you hauled your arse to Cintra to protect her, I realized that you were always capable of going back to unfinished business, to scorned places of the past - you could always do it, if it was for the sake of something important enough to you.”

Jaskier lowered his gaze again, smiling sadly - smiling bitterly. It was an odd thing, a bitter smile, but Jaskier, like a fine doublet, wore it well.

“I just wasn’t.” he said, “I’m not your destiny, or your djinn-bound soulmate. I was just a bard.”

My bard. Geralt wanted so badly to say.

“What could I have said?”

Jaskier’s lower lip quivered as he looked at the Witcher near-dumbfounded, as if his incredulousness were a dagger that cut him deep. He leaned back against the table.

“You tell me.” he shrugged, “For those two years, I was still stupid enough that anything would have worked. Really, I wished some of my eloquence rubbed off on you, and I could’ve gotten a plea that, in a spur of irony, I was one of the few blessings life ever granted you, but anything that sounded remotely like an apology would have worked.”

He put his hands on his hips. Geralt could tell how hesitant he was.

“...At least, it would have made me think I was worth an apology in your eyes, and I was worth all the work it could have taken, tracking me down to say it.”

He rubbed a patch of cloth on his trousers with his thumb. Geralt didn’t miss how the corner of his lip twitched.

“At least, I could’ve known that what you said really was just a product of the heat of the moment, sprung forth by a misplaced attempt at levity, and there was no truth to it. I was so desperate that I would have taken anything if it meant I’d stop missing you.”

“You obviously stopped missing me eventually.” 

Jaskier threw his head back again, “Wrong again, Geralt.”

He stood up straight again and walked across the floor, which, to Geralt, was still littered with hot coals he couldn’t dare step over.

“Do you really think that the venom in your words - the spit from your lips - the fury in your eyes could clear you from my mind? From my heart?” he walked right up to Geralt, though the space between them felt like it was pushing the Witcher away from Jaskier like a magnet.

“Do you really think that anything but the Gods themselves could’ve made me stop missing you?”

Geralt couldn’t say anything. Hearing Jaskier’s words… it was like a vocal hex, like someone had sewn his very lips shut.

(Perhaps if he had done so himself before that day on the hunt, things wouldn’t have gone so bad…)

(No, no, he still would’ve found a way to ruin things. He was Geralt of Rivia, after all.)

Jaskier was only inches away from him now - a distance like something from a dream, after they’d been distant for so long… but even though this was the closest their bodies had ever been to one another, the Witcher knew that Jaskier’s mind - his heart - was as far away from Geralt as it could ever get.

Jaskier was the one to break eye contact - as if he was still terrified of giving the Witcher the chance to break anything - and he looked down to his feet.

“...If you want to know who broke my hands, Yennefer knows more than I.” he said, “She’s the one that found me, told me more of who he was. All I have is a name for a face.”

Geralt turned to leave. Jaskier grabbed his wrist.

The touch burned.

“But…”

Jaskier lifted his head and looked Geralt in the eye.

“...You want to know who did this to me? Who ruined me? Who broke me?”

Jaskier’s eyes bore into Geralt’s soul, the ice blue of his irises piercing him like shards.

“Go look back on that mountain.”

[fanmoose12]

Hi fanmoose! Got a prompt for you, if you're interested: Levi seeing the 104th and the vets preparing gifts for Hange's birthday, but he's wondering what to give them so he goes above and beyond... all the Scouts are taken by surprise.

Thanks, and good luck!

i changed a couple of things..... hope you still enjoy it! thanks for the prompt <3

Jean got a notebook. Armin made a new quill, using a feather from the owl he and Mikasa caught. Connie brought from his home village a whole basket of peers Hange loved so much. Sasha was responsible for baking a cake.

Nifa made her favorite brownies. Mike decided to gift Hange a new jacket, Nanaba bought a new pair of shoes, Erwin got her a new pair of glasses and a microscope she was whining about for so long. Moblit drew a fucking portrait of her.

Even Eren, as obtuse as he was, prepared a present for Hange.

“My mom was very good at sewing,” he shared with Levi, in the middle of his training, “she didn’t teach me how to do it,” at that, his voice lost some of its edge, tints of sadness appearing, “but Mikasa knows how to sew and she promised to help me with it!”

Levi could only arch an eyebrow. “And how is that related to a gift for Hange?”

Eren leaned closer with a hand next to his mouth, looking so serious, like he was going to tell the biggest secret in the world. “I’m going to sew a plushie for Squad Leader.”

“A plushie? A fucking toy with your titan’s face?”

There was a beat of silence. Then… “Damn it.” Eren took head in his hands, tugging at his hair with alarming desperation. “Damn it! I should have sewed the plushie of my Titan! Hange-san loves it!”

Yeah, as much as it annoyed Levi, there was certainly no way he could deny that.

“So… what did you sew instead?”

Peaking beneath his fingers, Eren mumbled. “A plushie of me holding a heart that says ‘I love you, Hange’.”

Fuck… as dense as Eren was, Levi had to admit… the gift was not bad at all. Especially for Eren. Especially comparing to his gift, which consisted of…

Nothing.

Just two days were left before Hange’s birthday, and he still no idea what to give her. Hange was probably expecting a present from him. Or, maybe, she was not. She was nice like that – always giving without asking for something in return. Hange was also kind, she thought he was her friend, and even more than that. Best friend, she once told him. And Levi had to admit. He felt it too. Hange was his friend. The first one he made in Survey Corps. The closest one he had.

Some friend he was, apparently. Not even preparing a gift for her.

Sensibly, he knew that he was making a problem out of nothing. He could give Hange something simple – a shampoo she obviously didn’t possess; a book she would probably like and squeal in his ear about; a new shirt or a bottle of good wine.

Hange would probably enjoy these kinds of gift. They were certainly useful. But were they meaningful? Would Hange remember them, ten years from now?

He wanted her to. Hange was his friend, perhaps, even something more. He wanted only the best for her. That’s why picking up a gift was such a problem.

With only two days left, Levi was getting desperate. He was thinking about seeking out help, but just before he gathered the strength…

The help came to him themselves.

“Good day, Levi,” with a good-natured smile, Erwin invaded his office, Mike and Nanaba trailing after him. “Are you busy?”

Levi pointedly looked at the mountain of paperwork on his desk. “Yes,” he drew, “All thanks to you, Erwin.”

“Well, you can take a break,” Erwin waved his hand dismissively, and took a seat on the opposite end of Levi’s desk. Nanaba and Mike occupied the sofa. “We came to discuss something very important,” the smile was gone, as Erwin clenched his jaw and knitted his eyebrows in a hard line. Looking at that expression, Levi felt his stomach sinking. What was this all about? If it was about their upcoming expedition, then where was… “A little birdie shared with us,” Erwin interrupted his heavy thoughts, “That you still have no present for Hange.”

What? Levi gawked at his guests, switching his confused gaze from one to the other.

“And what is the name of that birdie?” He would find that birdie and give them a piece of his mind, for sure. Who dared get poke his nose into his personal matters?

“Please, Levi,” Mike joined the conversation, “You couldn’t get more obvious. I can smell your desperation from miles away.”

Levi’s annoyance rose. Birdies, smelling desperation. Could they talk like normal people?

Seeing his increasing frustration, Nanaba decided to come to rescue. She smiled, tucking a lock of her hair behind an ear. “I overheard your conversation with Eren. You looked a bit distressed, honestly I thought you were going to kick his ass again… And since I doubt Hange is enamored with Eren in that way, I concluded that you…”

“Are angry not because the boy is a titan and spends too much time with Hange, but because he already has a gift prepared, when you do not.” Erwin finished.

Well… the conclusion was sound, at least. But that didn’t mean that Levi felt any less annoyed.

“So?” he raised an eyebrow, staring judgingly at his intruders. “What do you want from me?”

“We want to help, of course,” the smile was back at Erwin’s lips. “And we have some ideas.”

“Such as?”

Nanaba bounced from her seat, crossing the room to bang her palms against the surface of Levi’s desk. He jumped slightly, certainly not expecting it.

“You know what Hange really likes?”

“Books?” Levi tried. “Science? Titans? Books about titan’s science?”

“No, dummy,” Nanaba shook her head, “Hange likes you.”

It took him a long moment to comprehend. Even then, the only thing Levi could get out of his mouth was a very faint, “Eh?”

“We all know how much Hans makes you happy.” Mike said.

They did? How so?

“You spend a lot of time with Hange,” Erwin noted, answering his unasked question.

“And you allow her to do things that you deny everyone else,” Nanaba continued.

“And when she is with you, that constipated expression disappears from your face.” Mike finished.

He… didn’t have a constipated expression. And while Hange did make his days more pleasant and his survival that easier and more enjoyable… Levi was sure that no one knew about it, but him.

“Listen, we all know that you like Hange, and we’re telling you that Hange likes you. That’s why…” Erwin lifted his chin, his smile becoming nearly devilish. Were they still talking about a simple birthday gift? “I made a reservation in a restaurant in Sina. Take Hange there, eat good food, drink some wine, have a good night… Make Hange happy.”

Their suggestion was certainly better than Levi’s nothing. However…

“What you’re offering seems a lot like fraternization. Isn’t that illegal?” he narrowed his eyes at Erwin, skepticism oozing from him. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Perish the thought!” not swayed by Levi’s scary expression, Erwin chuckled. “You’re correct, technically, two officers are not allowed to enter romantic relationship, but I think it’s a little too late for that.” Huh? Just how Levi was meant to interpret that? “Besides… think about humanity, Levi! If you and Hange were to conceive a child…” the expression on Erwin’s face was so dreamy, Levi felt chills at the base of his spine. “A child born from the union of humanity’s strongest and smartest… It could very well save our world!”

Levi stared at his Commander, at loss of words. Saying ‘you’re fucked up in the head, Erwin’ seemed a little too rude even for him, considering that Erwin was his superior officer. Still… he was fucked up in the head.

“Don’t listen to him,” Nanaba spoke, attracting Levi’s attention. “But think about our offer. An evening like that will really make Hange happy. You want that, don’t you?”

Did he want to make Hange happy? More than anything…

“Do it for Hange,” Nanaba urged.

“Do it for love,” Mike added.

“Do it for humanity!” Erwin passionately concluded.

Fucked up in the head, Levi thought. All of them were. Himself, included. But what was he going to lose? Besides, their offer was better than anything he could have come up with.

“Alright,” he surrendered, a sigh escaping him. “I’ll do it.”

Nanaba cheered. Mike nodded at him with a smile. Erwin looked like he was about to cry. Then, to Levi’s horror, he saluted.

“Get out of my office now,” he shooed them away, lowering his gaze back to the papers. “I need to work.”

“Just another quick thing,” Nanaba patted his shoulder with a cheerful smile. “Walk Hange to the door of her room after the dinner. And make sure that you return after nine o’clock.”

Ah. So they had an ulterior motive. Of course. Levi shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re planning something for Hange, I take it?”

“A little party,” Mike confessed. “We’ll deal with food and drinks, but you’re in charge of getting Hange there in time.”

Levi didn’t remember agreeing to be in charge of Hange, but… he didn’t like the idea of anyone else doing it in his stead.

“Nine o’clock, four-eyes’ room, I got it. Now get out of my office.”

Nanaba, Erwin and Mike didn’t need to be told twice.

___

After finding a solution to his main dilemma, Levi was now met with another, no less important and challenging than the previous one.

Erwin and the others got him a reservation at the restaurant. But... now he needed to invite Hange there.

His first attempt, executed not long after Erwin, Nanaba and Mike left his office, failed spectacularly, despite his expectations. He naively thought that a simple note, carried to Hange via Moblit, would suffice. But, perhaps, the note didn’t reach its destination. Or Hange forgot to read it. Or she somehow misinterpreted the sentence ‘do you want to dine together?’. Or the fault laid in the absence of Levi’s signature.

Nevertheless, he needed to do better.

His next attempt was slightly more successful. At least, he got some kind of reaction. Still not reaction he had needed. Apparently, there were ways that one could misunderstand the simple phrase ‘hey, four-eyes, want to eat with me?’. Levi had expected a very enthusiastic ‘yes’. Instead he received ‘I’ll see you at the dinner’ and a door to his face.

Evidently, he had to do not only better, but also be a little clearer about his intentions.

After lots of pondering, Levi decided that nothing could be clearer than throwing a shiny new black jacket from Mike at Hange and barking, “Get dressed, Hange. We’re going out.”

That got him an intrigued ‘oooh’ and a promise to be ready in five minutes.

Levi smirked to himself. Finally, his plan had worked. Finally, he got through that brilliant and extremely dense head.

___

At first, the dinner was, for the lack of better word,extremely awkward.

Erwin failed to mention just how fancy the restaurant would be. Turned out, it was fancy. Very fancy. Fancier than anything Levi had seen in his life. Even Hange, despite not being a street rat from Underground, was feeling a little off.

“Everyone is staring at us,” she whispered to him, leaning over the table to do so.

Hange was right. Everyone was gawking at them. Perhaps, the reason for it was their clothes. Both of them were dressed in their best suits. Still, their best didn’t even begin to reach the best of the gathered crowd. Perhaps, other guests were weirded out by Hange’s loud cheer at the sight of meat in the menu.

Or, perhaps, their reputation preceded them, and everyone in here knew about humanity’s strongest soldier and crazy titan scientist, two of Erwin Smith’s loyal devils.

Whatever the case was, Levi didn’t like the obvious staring. They came here to eat and have a good time, not be observed like clowns in the circus.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back to her. He really was. It was Erwin’s mistake, but it was Hange’s birthday and it was his fault for not checking the restaurant beforehand. He was a scout, for fuck’s sake. It was his job.

“Don’t even start,” Hange huffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Not the first time I receive that sort of treatment. Probably not the last one as well.”

Hange paused, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “And if they want to look at us so much, let’s give them something to stare at.”

Levi’s lips twitched up. “And what do you suggest?”

“Let’s order the priciest meals they have, eat them like animals they think we are, and then run away and let Erwin deal with that.”

There were many reasons why Levi loved Hange. This was one of them.

___

True to Hange’s plan, they were at their worst behavior. They used spoons instead of forks, they drank straight from the bottle, Hange ate the dessert with her hands, smearing cake all over her mouth, cheeks, palms and shirt. Barely keeping himself from laughing out loud, Levi wiped it all with his cravat, as Hange cooed at his chivalry.

Two hours later, their stomachs were full, the crowd was scandalized, their hearts were merry and their eyes were shining with unbridled mischief.

“I think we’ve succeeded at making the worst impression possible,” Hange spoke, following it with a loud laughter. Several guest scoffed at the volume. Levi showed all of them his scariest scowl. The rich fuckers returned their attention to their plates in record time.

“It’s time we make our exit,” he agreed.

He looked at Hange more closely, thinking if he should take the risk. She had been touching him freely throughout the whole evening. She pressed their calves together under the table, she ran a hand through his arm, she let him touch her face and tilt her chin. She didn’t seem opposed to the idea, so… Levi took a deep sighed, searching for every bit of courage inside of him. Once all of it was gathered, he took Hange by the hand, helping her to stand up.

To his surprise and huge relief, she didn’t shake his hand off. On the contrary, she squeezed his palm and interlaced their fingers.

Hand in hand, they started towards walking out of the restaurant. On his way there, Levi discreetly pushed a plate of soup at some wealthy lady, staining her light creamy dress and receiving a indignant cry and a joyous giggle from Hange.

After that, they had to speed up a little. It was Hange’s birthday. Levi didn’t want to spend it in the prison cell.

Once they were outside and some distance away from the restaurant, Hange stopped.

“Shit, Levi! Had you seen her face? She was—”

She didn’t finish. Hange leaned against the wall and threw her head back, laughing without abandon. She doubled over, hugging her stomach, her mirth not ceasing. Finding her mood strangely infectious, Levi couldn’t help but chuckle too.

Still snickering to herself, Hange looked up to meet his gaze. Her whole body was shaking from the laughter, and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Disheveled, red-faced and laughing, she was the most beautiful sight Levi had ever seen. The moonlight and faint stars only accentuated her beauty.

Levi was lost in watching her.

Subconsciously, in a mindless attempt to get a better look at the wonder that was Hange Zoe, he leaned in.

Hange leaned in too, her hand finding place at his shoulder. She moved that hand slightly, closer to his neck. Her fingers ghosted around his hairline, making him shiver.

He was looking in her eyes. Hange was looking at his lips.

The world around the two of them faded, the sounds of a street at night, the singing from the nearby pub disappearing to the background.

Levi didn’t know, had failed to register who moved first. But a moment later, his hand was on her waist, and Hange buried her fingers in his hair. And then, they were kissing – sloppily, desperately, without skill but with lots of passion.

Levi felt like he was struck by lightning. Nothing he had ever done before felt even remotely as good as kissing Hange did.

As the kiss progressed, becoming deeper, Levi found himself pressed against the wall.

Hange was everywhere – her tongue was in his mouth, her palms on his cheeks, her knee was rising, resting against his crotch. It was almost too much. And yet, not enough.

“Hange, Hange,” with some difficulty, he separated himself from her hot mouth and soft lips. “Hange, if someone sees us—”

“Oh, right,” still pressed dangerously close to him, she giggled. “Erwin would have a heart attack if we get jailed for making out on the streets. He’d deem us a disappointment to humanity.”

“Back to barracks then?”

Hange licked her lips and winked. Levi felt another strong surge of desire. “We can continue there.”

After that kind of promise, Levi hurried to find where they left their horses. He all but raced there, and jumped on his loyal stallion, grasping the reins a little too tightly.

Hange followed his suit. “Who arrives at the barracks first, gets to be on top?” she challenged.

Without waiting for his reply, she started off. Cursing, Levi struggled to keep up.

That day, he learned one essential lesson. Riding a horse with a raging boner was a fucking torture.

___

Hange was the first one to reach the stumbles. Dismounting her horse, she ran up to Levi, pulling him off the saddle and instantly connecting their lips. Levi would have liked to complain, but… who was he kidding?

Without another word, he brought Hange closer, putting his hand on her hip.

Just as the first one, the second kiss was amazing, enough to knock his breath out and make his knees buckle underneath him.

“If that’s my birthday gift,” Hange murmured, panting after they broke apart. “Then it’s the best one I ever had.”

And here Levi thought that there was nothing more enjoyable than kissing Hange. But as he saw her gentle smile, the adoring expression in her twinkling eyes, he was ready to melt in her arms.

However, he wouldn’t be himself if he passed an opportunity to use a sarcastic quip. “Is it better than Erwin’s microscope? Than Eren’s plushie?”

Hange put a finger to her chin, looking up with a thoughtful expression. “The microscope is really good, and that plushie is so adorable…” Levi’s good spirits vanished, as something ugly found its place inside his chest. Before it could manifest in a scowl, Hange caught his lips with hers once again.

“But nothing is better than you, shorty,” she confessed as they separated.

Hange likes you, Nanaba had said. She wasn’t wrong, it seemed.

“Your room or mine?” he asked, already tugging off Hange’s jacket.

“Mine. I was the one to win, after all,” she smirked, rapidly turning away and starting to run. Levi had no choice but to chase her.

___

He caught up with her near the entrance. Ceasing the moment, he wrapped arms around her waist, pressing her to him. Hange’s giggle turned into a moan. Levi delighted in that.

Exchanging messy kisses, they tumbled through the front door. Unable to break away from each other, they clumsily walked through the barracks, tripping and stumbling. And, despite the growing desire, they didn’t hurry as well. They stopped near the stairwell, so Hange could put a hickey on a spot above his collarbone. They paused at the middle of the hallway, so Levi could grind against her. Hange pressed him against the wall to whisper, “Fuck, Levi, this feels so good.”

When they reached the bedroom, Levi was ready to cheer. It was the longest walk through the barracks he had ever had. Was Hange’s room always that far away from the entrance?

With her hands shaking, she searched through her pockets for a key. She found it after a long minute that Levi spent kissing her neck. Once she fished it out, she put the key in the keyhole, and decided to celebrate that grand achievement with another breathtaking kiss.

Getting a little too eager, Levi pushed Hange forward. That was his mistake.

Apparently, the door to her room wasn’t closed. And, apparently,the room also wasn’t empty.

Unfortunately, Levi realized that and remembered the second part of Erwin’s plan a second too late. After he had heard the loud and cheerful ‘Happy birthday, Hange!’

With his arms still around Hange, he froze. Everyone else in the room froze too. The awkward silence settled over.

Levi’s thought frantically moved around his head, jumping from one corner to another. What should he do? Apologize? Let Hange go? Tell all of them to fuck off so he and Hange could finish what they had started?

However, he didn’t get to decide what to do with the unexpected audience. Hange chose for him.

“Guys!” she clasped her hands joyfully, her smile brighter than all the candles that stood around the room combined. “That’s so sweet! Thank you!”

She pulled away from Levi, sprinting to get to her friends. She gave a tight hug to Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Nifa, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Jean, Connie… Levi thought the string of people who wanted Hange’s attention would never end.

After hugs, came cake, and after cake was wine. He felt ignored, he felt utterly forgotten. He contemplated if he should go back to his room. He wanted Hange to kiss him again.

But instead he was sulking in the corner, munching on a cake Sasha had prepared. At least, the cake was good. But his frustration left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As his plate was emptied, Levi thought once again about leaving. But in that exact moment, seemingly out of nowhere, Hange appeared by his side.

“Planning to ditch the party early?” she wiggled her eyebrows, staring at him with unmasked mischief.

“It’s your birthday, not mine, four-eyes.”

“Exactly!” Hange threw an arm over his shoulders. “You’re my guest of honor!”

Ignoring the awakening of butterflies in his stomach and chalking them up to the effects of Sasha’s cake, Levi grunted, “Meaning?”

“Meaning I want you to stay!”

Levi rolled his eyes. He couldn’t really say no to Hange today, right? Although, he had troubles saying no to her any other day as well…

“And thank you for spending the whole evening with me,” Hange punctuated her gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. The butterflies were now flying freely, making Levi dizzy. It was hard to deny their origin anymore, with the trigger standing so close to him. “It was the best birthday I ever had.”

Well, that was all the gratitude Levi needed.

Before she left his side to receive more birthday wishes from their friends, Hange put her mouth above his ear, lowering her voice to a whisper, “Stay until the end, shorty. I’m not finished with you.”

She bounced off before he could give an answer. Perhaps, it was fairly obvious to her.

After all, how he could refuse Hange on the day of her birthday? How could he say no to receiving more of her attentions, and kisses?

With a satisfied hum, Levi settled against the wall, aiming his glare at all the guests. He couldn’t wait until all of them would leave. He couldn’t wait to have Hange all to himself.

[hansoulo]

lead me to the promised land

part two of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - language, kissing, heavy petting, dom!Boba, gagging/choking, marks and bruises of the Spicy nature, hand and finger kink, allusions to canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2k

Gif Credit: (x) by @/tylowen

A/N: good day gremlins i am not very good at updating but i bring u some fun times as penance pls forgive me

༓ series masterlist ༓

7:00 PM: T-MINUS 14 HOURS UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

You were used to being moved around by other people, poked and prodded and lifted up so that stays could be tied or burdensome headpieces be attached to your head. Shuffled around to smile and be proper, sedated by heavy skirts and perfume. It was a fact of life.

Your dress was unlaced by the mechanical hands of an attendant, the change happening quickly and without fond regard from any party. It was early evening now and the sky peeled itself into a burnt orange. If you closed your eyes, you could almost taste citrus.

“Careful, please,” you whispered with a slight wince as the woman’s thin fingers brushed against your neck, both of your reflections cast warm in the mirror you now stood in front of. They were almost-bruises. Little ghost flower petals. Delicate and pretty, trailing behind your neck and not quite noticeable.

The woman only nodded. Servants weren’t ones to ask questions.

 ⫸ ———————————————————————————— ⫷

3:25 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 35 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The world seemed to tip on its axis, spinning too fast and not at all. It’d only been a minute, maybe two, but Boba’s words hung out to dry in the summer air and there was nothing else to do but wait for the actions to fulfill themselves. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to let him keep kissing you, but you only broke away to warn in a jolted, harsh whisper when his touch became too sharp. “Don’t leave any marks.”

“Are you commanding me?” Boba sneered, his voice slightly cruel as his gloved thumbs rubbed circles into your hip bones. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, letting his mouth skid over your jaw. Your answering yes or no wouldn’t make much of a difference. You had the feeling he would do what he liked either way. You had the feeling you’d let him.

It was strange, too fast. Too fast because really, what did you know about Boba? Were you even on first name terms? He’d never called you your name, and you’d never called him his. You’d only known of him for a few weeks. Had truly talked to him for even less than that. Maybe you should stay a capitalized Princess and he should be “Fett.” For the sake of clinicality.

Letting him lift you up and onto his lap was most definitely not clinical. “That depends,” you croaked out after a moment, finally looking at his face in your half-stupor. He’d sat you up to face him and you’d gone with, pliable and keening. Being champagne drunk felt like this; like his eyes coal-black and the way he seemed to take up everything in your mind until there was no room for reason.  You traced over the scar on his forehead with a light mouth, knees bowed to nestle closer and every muscle in your body flexing, tensed as if dripped over with sunshine. “Are you going to listen?”

The smile of a predator was the only answer he gave you.

⫸ ————————————⫷

3:30 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

Men were vile. They had clammy hands that wandered to your thighs at banquet dinners, slimy mouths when they pressed their lips to your hand in greeting. They were all insufferable and you promised never to go near one as long as you could help it. But promises were a boring thing to keep sometimes. They were much more fun to break.

Boba spoke but it was swallowed in your interlocking mouths, hungry and escalating desperate. You were still sitting with—on?—him, too cowardly to do anything more than kiss and let yourself be felt by the strength of a man’s greed. He tasted like teeth and blood and pink flesh. That was the thing that no one had ever told you about kisses; about men like him. They tasted like broken skin. 

You were eating Boba whole. He was eating you piece by piece. 

You were just kissing. Had been just kissing for what seemed like ages but was actually only fifteen standard minutes. Fifteen standard minutes for your stays to be dragged loose, your lips to be bitten plush, and both sandals abandoned somewhere in the slow scramble. It wasn’t so much desperation as it was just a sheer curiosity goading your irrationality, but the end result was the same: a man squeezing the back of your neck, calling you lovely in the same breath he called you naive. 

“Take them off,” you almost demanded, pulling desperately at his gloves as the warm leather dragged against your fingernails. Learned manners were added in as an afterthought. “Please.”

His one-handed grip on your thigh tightened. It would bruise, likely. Raise questions, definitely. You would have to chalk it up to something else. A fall. A bad trip on a set of stairs. Anything besides what was happening now. The words rumbled against your chest and registered vaguely as a threat. “What was that?”

Huffy and impatient, you answered in a much more keening, undignified echo. “Please, pleasepleaseplease—”

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Stuffed was the more apt word. You tried not to think about how he could only fit two of them inside without hurting you. It made you feel temperature-hot, physically burning until your cheeks and your insides twisted into smoldering ash because his fingers breached the alabaster edges of your teeth until they almost gagged you on your own tongue. Boba drew his hand back only when you sighed around it, sedated with fluttering eyes and no longer asking questions. His voice seemed to get deeper, raspier around the unplaceable accent from a place you’d never heard of and probably never would. “Good girl.”

The gloves stayed on. Why they did and why you couldn’t just get him to do what you wanted like everyone else you had no idea, but your frustration quickly ebbed into hazy, sparking pleasure. He called you good. You liked being good. 

Your hips stuttered when they caught on Boba’s trousers and suddenly you were giggling into the thick muscle of his shoulder, quiet and juvenile in your own disbelief. Everything about this was absurd and inappropriate, which formed the basis of your amusement. It was something to play with. Someone. Big and shiny in the most literal sense of the word. 

The hunter let out what could be construed as a laugh but sounded more akin to a growl and two large palms settled again on the soft rise of your hips. “Not here,” he repeated into your jaw, the words that were previously muffled so long ago now clearer. Not here. Which implied a theoretical somewhere other than here where you would possibly, hypothetically be doing more than- “We need to go.”

You should go. You should be pushing him off of you and running and screaming or something equally inflammatory because this was… because his...

“No,” you protested weakly with a slow shake of your head. Your hands curled around his pauldrons and rested there, limp and slightly shaking. “No, they- they didn’t actually need me for anything. My father just had to—oh Maker-” his cuisse plate pressed up hard between the warm softness of your thighs. “—had to send someone out to search for me—” you rutted against his leg once, twice before the arms around your waist tightened again and inhibited any further attempts at movement. You recovered from the loss of friction quickly, instead letting yourself sag into his solid chest as one set of fingertips dragged along your spine. “—’s just a poor look for him not to,” you finished flippantly, barely audible from where your face settled smushed against the creep of stubble on his cheek. “Bad press.”

“I’ve still got places to be, princess. Even if you don’t.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry,” you tried replying sarcastically as his mouth flattened against the thin skin of your neck. His lips were soft, but they pressed against you like anything but. You tried rolling your hips again but were thwarted. “Am I in the way of a prior engagement?”

“Something like that.”

“Well then,” you flattened your palms against his chest plate and broke away from the seal of his touch. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t breathe right and looked like you’d been dragged through a sarlacc pit, but he was just sitting there. Watching you. His eyes were hungry though. “Why let me keep you?”  The words were shot through with airy exhales as you were lifted up off the smooth stone. “I was under the impression that you hated me,” you continued into Boba’s neck with hands curled around the dark curls at its nape.

You did think that, before… this. Now you didn’t know what to believe, what his intentions were. Most likely they were the same as yours. Nothing good.

Whatever either of your motivations were, they would have to be paused now. For his mysterious, vague “engagement” and probably for the betterment of your health, because you were certain if you stayed here with him, shielded away from prying eyes and marching men, your heart would burst right out of your chest and through your ears. 

Your legs wobbled slightly when he set you standing on the ground, Boba’s helmet still laying on the fountain’s edge, and you handed it to him with a reverence that belayed the previous minute’s informality. When it was restored to his head you found yourself mourning the loss of his face. You’d been spoiled this last hour. You didn’t like not seeing it anymore.

“I don’t.” was his short reply. What a wordsmith. 

“Aren’t you still my escort?” you huffed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in panted inhales. Wiping haphazardly at your mouth, you leaned over the fountain’s reflection and attempted to compose yourself. The circlet usually pinned neatly to your head lay crooked and loose, glimmering its delicate metals in the daylight as you fussed with it this way and that. The pool of water currently acting as a mirror rippled too much to be of any real use. You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks and mumbled. “My penitentiary guard, more like.”

Boba turned you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders and you imagined his eyes to still be edged in charcoal embers. The last smudge of lipstick on your chin was rubbed away by a broad thumb and you watched, curious to his intentions and surprised at his actions, when he reached up to right your crown.

“Let’s go, princess.”

You didn’t argue. You’d been sated from rebellion for the time being.

 ⫸ ————————————⫷

4:10 PM: T-MINUS 15 HOURS AND 50 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The mercenary stood by the side entrance watching you. 

“You look a mess!” your mother admonished, harried with the exertion of the day’s events that you somehow managed not to be privy to. Apparently there was to be a dinner with the guests leaving the next morning, and apparently you specifically were asked to be present. Both would be dull pieces of information on the best of days but now, after the events that had just transpired, they were positively brain-numbing. 

The queen consort motioned for you to turn around and you complied with a slow spin as your being was examined for minor casualties. Once the woman assured herself of your being alive and unharmed, barely registering the tall figure that stood mere yards away, she allowed herself more frantic inquiries as she shuffled you down the hallway. “What were you doing out there?”

“Oh nothing,” you answered vaguely, eyes trailing as far back towards the doors as they could go without actually turning your head. There was a flash of green armor. “I just wanted to take a walk, is all.” You turned to her and smiled your best attempt at a brilliant, royal-white assurance. “Clear my head.”

[halloweenhoneylover]

the star puzzle

summary: based on 5x13 (bc long hair reid rights) in which emily tells a funny little story and spencer is the sweetest know-it-all :’) (spencer x fem!reader)

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i haven’t written for fun in the hottest second and im embarrassed so pls don’t roast!!! also trying my hand at romance is scary ahahaha how do yall do this

Emily’s nose wrinkled slightly.

Damn puzzle.

She fidgeted with two wooden pieces, and the sounds of them dully clinking against each other drew the attention of a certain doctor. With squinted eyes, he observed her fumbling for a moment before muttering a quick, “What is that?”

“It’s called a star puzzle. It’s basically impossible to figure out.” The resignation was clear in her tone. She’d been trying to put together this unbelievably frustrating puzzle for the past fifteen minutes, and she felt further from figuring it out than when she began. Utterly infuriating. “You have to put all of the pieces back together to form a perfect star. But the origin of it is kinda a romantic tale.”

Your ear perked up a bit, your interest thoroughly piqued. Always a sucker for a little romance, a small grin tugged at your lips as you quietly tucked the corner of your page down and shut your book. Ms. Austen could wait a little longer. Perhaps love stories were for the naive, but who were you to deny yourself the small rush of joy of hearing about two people fall in love? Your eyes flickered towards Spencer for the briefest of moments, and your smile widened ever so slightly. I wouldn’t mind falling in love with him. As if that process wasn’t already well underway. So you settled further in your seat on the couch to listen to Emily.

“There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land.” 

At this, Spencer’s heart skipped, and he spared a fleeting glance to his right at the girl on the couch who had the most endearing smile on her face as she intently watched Emily. The fairest maiden in all the land, he thought as his cheeks flushed slightly. He was quite familiar with the prince’s endeavors.

 “So he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, and he caught a falling star for her. Unfortunately, he was so excited, that he dropped it, and it smashed into all of these pieces. So he frantically put it back together to prove his undying love to her, and he succeeded, and they lived happily ever after.”

A moment of silence and a furrowed brow. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t catch a falling star. It would burn up in the atmosphere.” You could almost hear the cogs in the poor boy’s head turning as he tried to grasp the meaning of her words. Amusement danced across Rossi’s features as he shared a knowing look with Emily.

“Yeah, but it’s not literal, Reid. It’s a fable.”

“But there’s no moral. Fables have morals.” You ducked your head in an attempt to suppress the laugh bubbling in your chest and the blush painting your cheeks. As always, you were fascinated by the mechanisms of Dr. Reid’s mind. And by the look of confusion on his face, a look that only made you more smitten which you had thought was an impossible task by now.

“Okay so it’s just a romantic little story—the point is it’s basically impossible to do because you have to take all of those pieces and fit them together exactly….” She trailed off, watching him easily fit together the pieces she’d been agonizing over for far too long. His nimble fingers were purposeful in their task and within seconds, produced the desired star. Emily’s jaw dropped. That little son of a—

For a moment, he looked at the star, reveling in his success with a somewhat smug smirk (he loved solving puzzles), before a thought popped into his head. Turning his gaze to the right, he caught your eye as you gawked at the puzzle. He gave you that signature tight-lipped smile that made your heart swell and wordlessly offered you the star. 

Your breath caught, and for some reason, you couldn’t look away, and neither could he. So you both sat there in this little moment of stillness on the edge of revelation. This felt so much bigger than one friend offering another a look at a stupid little puzzle, but there was that underlying current of fear, of ‘we both want this so, so much, but neither of us can say that this means more because what if they don’t feel the same way.’ Hesitation had locked you in place, but screw it. A little breathless and a lot of warmth buzzing in your chest, you finally recovered your expression from your previous look of utter amazement and took the star. 

You took the star.

Spencer thought he could still hear the air humming from that second-long moment that felt like a freaking hour, and his fingers were buzzing from where yours had brushed his for the most minuscule of moments, he couldn’t stop the smile that split his face wide open. He didn’t know if you took it to look at his handiwork, or to give your approval, or to accept this profession of his undying love for you, but whatever it meant, you took the star, and that was enough for now. 

Staring down at the wooden puzzle in your hands, you focused so intensely because you needed a moment to recover from whatever the hell just happened. Maybe you blacked out for a minute and were in heaven for the entirety of three seconds, or maybe you’ve watched When Harry Met Sally too many times to not have a skewed perception of romance and friendship, but he had to have felt that, right? There was no way he didn’t have his world turned upside down by that incredibly small interaction—or maybe you’re just way too in love with him to be judging things correctly. Either way, you’re somewhat surprised the star hasn’t completely burst into flames under the intensity of your stare, and you try to grapple with what just happened and what comes next.

“Not too shabby, Dr. Reid.” It comes out as the ghost of a whisper because you’re not sure you could have managed any more than that. The smoldering remains of your previous grin haunt your lips as you finally summon the courage to meet his eyes again. 

He’s beaming.

“Why, thank you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

And you can’t help but mirror him.

Wide eyes and the most knowing smirks you’ve ever seen are silently flying around the jet as the others look at each other to confirm, are you seeing this? It’s been extremely apparent, the burgeoning crushes between the two youngest members, and this is just the icing on the freaking cake. Dear Morgan is just bursting at the seams, knowing that the next moment he gets the good doctor alone, he will be teasing him to the highest heaven. Maybe Reid’s new nickname will be ‘young prince.’ Morgan is sure he will love that (he won’t). And poor, poor Garcia, gripping her knitting needles so tightly that they might be pulverized, cannot even slightly suppress the glowing of her heart as she watches her two most favorite people fall even more in love, and by God, if she’s not going to do something about it. What she’s going to do, she’s not quite sure, but she has the rest of this plane ride to figure it out, and when she does know, it’s gonna be good, and they’re going to get together and be together forever. Simple, really.

Yet, Emily might be the most pleased of them all. This was absolutely not her intention when she had told the story of the prince and the maiden, but by no means was she opposed to the outcome. Her grin was contagious as she locked eyes with Rossi and JJ and even Hotch, breaking his ever-so-stoic demeanor. She could not wait to claim responsibility for their inevitable relationship, and boy, what a story she’d have for their wedding because of course, marriage is inevitable too. At least for these two, it seems. 

When finally the silence stretched on too long and the team’s gaze weighed too heavy on the young almost-lovers, they startled out of their reverie with nervous chuckles and burning cheeks. You handed the star back to Emily, “Neat little thing!”

“Sure is,” she replied with the most frustratingly canny smirk. You avoided her eyes; it was clear what they were insinuating.

Spencer stared down at the book in his lap, trying to resist the painfully strong urge to watch you for a little while longer as you tried to steer the conversation to easier topics. He was a little afraid of how enamored he was because it was a lot. A lot a lot. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and let the tension from his shoulders fall as he carefully fingered the binding of Pride and Prejudice. He’d only really picked it up because you suggested it. ‘I know you’re not very into romance,’ you had said. ‘But I’ll still think you’ll enjoy it. Mrs. Bennet never fails to make me smile, so at the very least, I think you’ll get a laugh out of it.’ He thought it was funny the way you buffered your suggestion, as if he wouldn’t do anything you asked him. And it was true. Mrs. Bennet made him laugh too, but he found himself more and more enthralled by the relationship unfolding between Miss Bennett and Mr. Darcy. He was going soft, and he had a sneaking suspicion as to why (or a very clear reason that was just really hard to come to terms with) (ie., his overwhelming love for you). He gave in to his urges and glanced back up.

He was met by your perpetual grin as you chatted softly with Emily. As your eyebrows raised or your nose scrunched, he let the butterflies in his stomach roam free. They were uncomfortable in the best way possible. Satisfied with one last look at you, he reopened the book and tried to keep reading, but his thoughts ran rampant. He’d given you a little star puzzle, a star to represent his undying love for you. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He knew he couldn’t catch a falling star, but he’d find a way if that’s what you wanted. A faint smile graced his lips as he thought, I’d do anything. If she wanted it, I’d give her anything. I’d give her every star in the sky. 

[little-mad]

A Seat at the Table Pt. 2 (Final)

~ Part 1 ~

After Gavin’s initial outburst had passed, breakfast went on smoothly and uneventfully, much to Rael’s relief. He was unprepared to address Gavin’s inquiries about why they couldn’t eat in the dining hall, because to be frank, Rael didn’t really have an answer.

Logically, Rael knew none of the soldiers would dare make a move against someone explicitly under the Emperor’s protection--and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia that clouded his mind every time he pictured other alteons around the human. Maybe they wouldn’t attack Gavin, but what if they said something cruel? Something even Gavin wouldn’t be able to shake?

Simply being in this realm was dangerous for Gavin, therefore Rael needed to take as many steps as possible to minimize the risk. Honestly, he didn’t understand why the human had any desire to dine among the alteon soldiers; it wasn’t as though his previous experience with one had left a particularly great impression. Of course, Gavin did have a knack of surprising Rael. There was much more to the tiny man than he’d initially expected.

“Patrols are much more interesting than boring guard duty,” Gavin remarked from where he sat on Rael’s shoulder.

Seeing as constantly having his hands occupied with carrying a human was more than a little impractical, the two of them had needed to determine an alternative. Rael’s first idea of using a belt pouch hadn’t gone over very well with Gavin, and so they had ended up settling on the shoulder.

At first, Rael had been tentative about placing the human so high up. A fall from such a height would no doubt be deadly for someone of Gavin’s size. Gavin had come up with the solution of tucking himself under one of the leather straps of Rael’s armor, that way he had something holding him down as well as something to grip onto.

While Rael had agreed to the set-up, he still couldn’t help but send frequent uneasy glances at the human. It was difficult not to feel the need to be constantly vigilant when he was with Gavin. The little guy was just so fragile. The slightest misstep or wrong move could prove disastrous to him.

“Are you taking the same route as the last time?” Gavin inquired, his voice so near to Rael’s ear that he didn’t even need to raise it at all.

Rael shook his head, careful not to disturb Gavin’s position. “No, this time we’re patrolling the grounds,” he explained. As beautiful as the palace interior was, it could feel a bit stuffy after a while, especially with so many nobles and other important figures milling about and scrutinizing everyone around them. Since he had Gavin now, that particular aspect of the indoors was even less appealing.

“Great, I could use the fresh air,” Gavin commented just as Rael stepped out into the early morning sunlight.

-

Same as it had been the past couple days, Rael’s job proved fairly uneventful. A dull occupation was not something Gavin was used to. It was hard to get bored when you were a thief. Even intel gathering stakeouts often came with a healthy dose of intrigue. However, he had to be grateful for the mundane nature of Rael’s patrol, because things getting exciting also meant things getting dangerous.

A couple hours into the patrol and Gavin was convinced this one would be as uneventful as the rest. He had taken to resting his tired eyes, without Rael’s knowledge of course, when suddenly he felt his trusty giant steed’s walking come to an abrupt stop.

“Hey, what the--” No sooner had Gavin’s eyes opened that his vision was filled with a pair of giant hands reaching towards him. He instantly recoiled, though sitting on a shoulder, he had nowhere to retreat to.

Long fingers wrapped themselves around Gavin’s body, and with seemingly no effort whatsoever, they broke his iron-like grip on the leather strap and lifted him free.

Immediately, Gavin’s mind went to Kaydin, the thug who had tried to abduct him in the woods. However, there was something familiar about the hands surrounding his body; their grasp was firm but gentle, as though they intended to protect rather than harm.

When everything came to a halt and the hands were no longer in motion, Gavin was finally able to make some sense of the situation. He was being held in the relaxed fist of one hand, while the other one was cupped under the bottom so that his feet touched the palm. This left only the upper half of Gavin’s chest and above sticking out the top.

Gavin’s first move was to glance behind himself to find out just who had so abruptly snagged him from his perch. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized the perpetrator was none other than Rael...shortly followed by a wave of irritation at the sudden relocation.

“Woah, you seem a little defensive, Rael.” An instant feeling of dread began to steal over Gavin. He knew that voice, he’d had nightmares about that voice.

Slowly he turned back around. As expected, there stood Ashryn: Gavin’s least favorite alteon--which was impressive considering there existed an alteon who’d tried to kidnap and sell him on the blackmarket.

“I have been tasked with protecting our human guest, so it is my job to be defensive,” Gavin heard Rael state icily. There was no hint of the polite courtesy that had been present during he and Ashryn’s last interaction--something that Gavin was definitely pleased about.

“Ah, that’s right,” Ashryn remarked, seemingly unfazed by Rael’s less than friendly disposition. “A shame you got saddled with such an unfavorable task.”

If blood physically had the ability to boil, Gavin was sure his would be bubbling like crazy at this point. He had to literally bite down on his own tongue to prevent a vulgar string of insults from flying out of his mouth. Ashryn clearly had a unique knack for triggering the latent rage that lay within Gavin, but he wouldn’t let himself fall for the same trap twice. Getting angry was exactly the kind of reaction Ashryn was looking for.

“I’m honored to have been granted this assignment actually.” Gavin’s fury was temporarily forgotten at Rael’s unexpected words. “The Emperor specifically entrusted it to me after all.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Gavin caught sight of Rael’s hardened expression as he unwaveringly met Ashryn’s gaze. The guy was notoriously difficult for Gavin to get a read on, but he could swear he saw not even a shred of fear or uncertainty in those striking teal eyes of his.

Turning back forward, Gavin could tell the smug smile on Ashryn’s face had taken on a tight quality. He had a feeling the asshole wasn’t particularly used to being stood up to.

“Oh, well I was concerned it may have been more of a punishment than anything,” Ashryn stated. The naive innocence in his tone was nauseatingly artificial.

“I’m not sure you understand just how important it is to the Emperor that our relationship with humans remain positive,” Rael countered smoothly, as though he’d practiced this very conversation in his head countless times.

Ashryn’s smile began to falter, distinct irritation now flashing in his eyes. “You seem quite sure you know the Emperor’s intentions,” he commented coldly.

“Evidently better than you do,” came Rael’s quick reply, and Gavin nearly let slip a bark of laughter. He’d proven it before, but this was just further proof that Rael was clearly quite skilled with his words. If he’d grown up on earth, Gavin had no doubt the guy would’ve been one of those insufferable smart-asses on the debate team in high school.

The smile had completely gone from Ashryn’s face now and had been replaced with a dark scowl. The sight was so satisfying to Gavin that he couldn’t help a smile of his own from tugging at his lips. However, the joy was quickly shot through with a bolt of fear as the green-eyed giant’s gaze suddenly landed on him.

Gavin was quickly reminded of his situation. Ashryn was more than just some jerk, he was a giant jerk, and that giant jerk was currently giving Gavin the absolute dirtiest look of all time.

As though he had taken notice of the hateful glare too, at that moment Rael ever-so-slightly tightened his hold on Gavin’s body. There also came a bout of steady movement as Rael brought his hands closer to his body and farther away from Ashryn.

“I’m afraid I have no more time to waste on you and your pet,” the brown-haired giant spat, finally lifting his gaze from Gavin. “Enjoy your babysitting.” With that, Ashryn turned sharply on his heel and strode off down the cobble path that led back towards the palace.

“Stupid, pointy-eared, pretensious, oversized--” Gavin nearly drew blood with how hard he was biting on his tongue to prevent his thoughts from becoming verbal. Sure it would be satisfying in the moment, but it was obvious that Rael’s well crafted rebuttals were far more effective against Ashryn than Gavin’s disorganized assortment of crude insults.

Gavin was drawn out of his mental fuming when the hands holding him lurched into motion once again. Long fingers shifted around him until Rael’s thumb was pressed gently against his chest while the index finger did the same to his back. With an easy, fluid movement, Rael managed to twist Gavin’s body around so that he was now facing towards the giant rather than away.

Maybe if the circumstances were different Gavin would be irked by the gentle manhandling, but there was no way he could be annoyed with Rael after the way he’d just handled Ashryn.

“I’m sorry you had to see him again,” Rael said as he gazed down at the human in his hands. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, and Gavin didn’t doubt for a second that the guy meant what he said.

“Don’t sweat it,” Gavin replied with a wave of his hand. “There was obviously nothing to worry about since I’ve got my knight in shining armor and all,” he added with a smirk.

Rael’s dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “My armor doesn’t shine,” he stated. “And I’d certainly not call myself a knight.”

Gavin gave a snort. The cultural divide between humans and alteons had once again made itself known. “It’s a figure of speech, dummy,” he told Rael as he flicked the giant’s hand.

“I don’t know how I’m meant to keep up with all your bizarre human sayings,” Rael grumbled as he moved Gavin back into position on his shoulder.

Gavin chuckled, and then there was a moment of silence as Rael set back off on his patrol. The quiet was comfortable. There was no air of awkwardness or a sense that one of them should be saying something. But then, after a few more moments, Rael suddenly broke the silence. “If you want to eat in the dining hall, we can,” he said simply.

Completely caught off guard, Gavin froze. He stared at the side of Rael’s face with wide eyes, but the alteon remained looking forward. “A-are you sure?” Gavin found himself stammering. He had no idea where Rael’s sudden change of heart had come from, and while Gavin was glad for it, he didn’t want to have guilted the man into the decision.

Smiling softly, Rael nodded. “Of course. I can handle any idiot foolish enough to think they can mess with you,” he responded smoothly.

Gavin broke into a grin. It seemed he would get his seat at the big kid table after all. All thanks to his trusty not-knight in not-shining armor.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Surprise – Howlin’ For You – One Shot

Description: Bucky forgets it’s his birthday. But his wife and kids aren’t going to let that slide. 

Pairing: AU - Biker!Bucky x Fem/Reader

Howlin’ For You - Masterlist

Read the series or you will not know what the fuck is happening.

Bucky was so tired that a part of him was worried about getting home on a motorcycle without falling asleep. 

It was like the universe was torturing him with the day that he had. It seemed as if every customer he had to deal with at the shop today was a privileged asshole. All of them either pretended like they knew more about auto mechanics than him or yelled at him for the very reasonable pricing he gave them on their vehicles.

Customer service had always been the thing Bucky hated most about running his own shop. He tried to avoid dealing with customers at all cost. Steve was much more patient than he was – most of the crew was. 

But the whole reason they’d created the shop in the first place was to offer people realistic prices and to not rip off naive and unassuming customers.

Now Bucky was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

He’d sent a text to Y/N earlier, telling her how he’d become more and more irritated from work as the day went on.

She sent her support and promised she’d try to cheer him up when he got home.

Bucky immediately brought the conversation to more risqué suggestions, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He also knew that a few minutes with his kids and he’d cheer up. Amelia would want to cuddle with him or the twins would show him their new model cars they built with so much enthusiasm that he wouldn’t be able to help but feel better.

When Bucky walked through the door, his shoulders immediately relaxed. He gave most of the credit to Y/N for making their house an oasis of comfort and warmth.

But then he noticed how oddly quiet the house was, which was a rarity with a 5-year-old daughter and 9-year-old, rambunctious twins.

“Doll?” He called out.

Suddenly Amelia came running to him, slamming into his legs with her tiny body.

“There’s my girl,” Bucky chuckled as he lifted her up to hold her.

She was already growing up so fast that he knew carrying her around could end at any moment – more from her not wanting him to than her becoming too big.

“Where is your pretty mama and your crazy brothers, huh?” He asked her after giving her cheek a kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders.

“They told me to come get you,” she informed him.

“Oh, yeah? What for?”

Amelia giggled. “It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“A secret? Sounds like trouble.” But now Bucky was getting a little suspicious. “Is this hide and seek? Are you here to help me find them?”

Amelia giggled again and shook her head. “No, silly. Th-They told me to say…ummm…” She was now have trouble battling the short-term memory that came with being 5 years old.

“Told you to say what, babydoll?” He encouraged her softly.

She smiled, not seeming to care that she wasn’t doing a good job of giving him the message. “The backyard,” she laughed.

“I’m supposed to go to the backyard,” Bucky confirmed with a slow nod.

Then he kissed her head. “Alright. Let’s go to the backyard.”

Bucky assumed the twins had Y/N hostage, showing her everything about the new dirt bike he’d brought home for them just a few days ago. While Y/N didn’t know nor care much about the mechanics, like her sons and daughter, she humored them by nodding and oohing and aahing at the right parts.

As soon as they were close to the door that led out to the patio and backyard, Bucky was surprised he couldn’t hear the twins talking Y/N’s ear off. Also the lights were off, making it hard to see anything through the windows of the house.

When Bucky pulled the door open, he was met with the backyard lights turning on and a crowd screaming, “Surprise!”

On instinct alone, he turned his body a bit so Amelia was shielded. But he quickly recovered, steadying his breathing and realizing neither he nor his daughter were in any immediate danger.

The whole week of work, specifically today, had been so hectic and stressful that Bucky kept forgetting his birthday was just around the corner.

Now he was facing what looked to be every person he’d ever met in his life.

All of the Howlies were laughing and cheering at his arrival. Someone had already started up the music again. People were talking amongst themselves now that the surprise had been delivered.

Grayson and Owen came running out of the crowd, Y/N slowly walking behind them with a warm smile.

“Were you surprised, dad?” The twins both asked excitedly.

“Sure was,” he laughed as he mess up both of their hair.

“Did you spoil the surprise, Amelia?” Grayson asked his little sister, who was still in her dads arms. His eyes were filled with suspicion.

She glared and shook her head before nuzzling closer to her father.

“No, she didn’t ruin anything. She could be a spy,” Bucky defended.

Now Y/N had made her way to them.

“You,” he playfully glared at his wife. “Come here.” She laughed and stepped closer, earning a kiss from him. “You plan all this for me, troublemaker?”

She barely pulled away from his lips, “Maybe.”

“Thank you, doll. You didn’t have to do this.”

Y/N shrugged. “I was just a little worried after you told me how bad your day was going. I thought maybe this would be all be too much.”

“Of course not,” he assured her.

He moved her lips to his ear. “I’m sorry about the lights and screaming, I tried to tell them not to do it. But everyone was really committed already,” Y/N muttered to him so no one else could hear, proving that she caught how he’d reacted to the surprise.

He kissed her again. “It’s fine, Y/N.” 

Even after all these years, Bucky was still amazed at how well they could read each other.

Then Y/N grabbed Amelia from his arms. “Now, I’ll take this one, because you got a lot of people who want to wish you a happy birthday.”

As soon as Y/N stepped away and took the kids with her, Bucky was bombarded with people giving him hugs and saying hi.

All of the Howlies were there, along with their partners and kids. He spotted his mom and sister talking to Y/N’s family. Some of Y/N’s friends who had become Bucky’s friends were there too. It was like their usual Howlie gatherings – but magnified and with all the attention on Bucky.

He could’ve gone without the attention, but he enjoyed having all the important people in his life all in one place.

An hour later, he found Steve running the grill.

“Alright, punk, I know you were responsible for this too,” Bucky growled.

They’d just seen each other at the garage a few hours ago.

“I may have helped a bit,” Steve confessed through a mischievous smile.

“How’d you all keep it a secret? Especially, Sam – that idiot can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I fucking heard that!” Sam shouted from over Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky laughed and gave Sam an unapologetic shrug.

“That wife of yours did most of the work. I felt like I was back in the military with the way she had everything organized and dished out jobs to all of us.”

Bucky laughed at that, picturing Y/N giving out orders to his biker gang.

Hours later, Y/N had put the kids to bed and the adults really got down to celebrating. 

She was starting to get worried with the amount of shots and drinks people were thrusting onto Bucky. The man could hold his alcohol, but he was still just a human.

“I’m going to end up carrying that man to bed, aren’t I?” Y/N asked Sam and Nat as they sat around a fire.

The three of them drew their attention to Thor and Clint who were shoving another shot onto Bucky.

“Make him find his own way to the couch,” Sam chuckled.

“This is why you’d make a bad boyfriend,” Nat smirked.

“What?” Sam yelled. “I’m a great boyfriend!”

“Yeah?” Nat asked. “Where’s your girlfriend now? Oh, yeah, you don’t have one…”

Lo and behold, Y/N did have to practically drag her drunk husband to their bedroom.

Some of the Howlies who were more sober offered to stay back and help clean up. Even when Y/N turned them down, they ignored her and started getting to work. She wouldn’t be surprised if she came downstairs tomorrow morning to find her house cleaner than it was before the party.

Bucky’s arm was around Y/N’s shoulder as she navigated him through their home.

“You’re the best wife anyone in the world could ever have,” Bucky slurred to her.

Y/N laughed, “I am?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Well, your wife needs some help on your end to get you up these stairs.”

And to his credit, he made it up them without requiring much of Y/N’s help.

When they got to his bedroom, he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Y/N started unlacing his foots and taking off his jeans.

“Shirt to bed or no shirt?” She asked him.

“No shirt!”

She smiled at him. “Shorts or sleeping in just your briefs?”

“Briefs!”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, I was planning on ending the night with more fun. But I don’t think you’re exactly in the right state for that…” She teased him.

Bucky chuckled. “Probably for the best.”

He was currently fighting the spins. So, as much as he wanted to have sex with his beautiful and sexy wife, it probably wouldn’t end well for him.

Y/N went to take off her makeup, wash her face, and brush her teeth.

She found one of Bucky’s old t-shirts and threw it on, forgoing any type of short or pants.

“Come here, doll.” Bucky demanded, sounding far more sober than he should. 

“Are you gonna behave?” Y/N asked him as she pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, ma’am. I just want cuddles.” Then he smiled like a goof. “It’s my birthday, so I get what I want.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head at him, but did as he requested and climbed into bed with him. Bucky instantly pulled her on top of his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you for tonight,” he sighed and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m glad you had fun.”

“I love you, Y/N.” His voice proving that he was just moments away from passing out.

“Love you too, Buck.”

And barely 30 seconds later, Y/N’s ears were filled with Bucky’s drunken snores.

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

Thank you to the anon who sent this in and inspired me.  Let me know what you guys think :)  

[edda-grenade]

Clothes.

Solas receives an unexpected gift, and Adaar gets an unexpected offer.

#feral verse, 1600 words. on AO3.

Solas didn’t know why he had not left.

It was a frivolous distraction from his duty at best, a willful betrayal of his people at worst. To waste his time playing teacher, playing at Wisdom, for some half-grown dragon spawn. What did it matter that she soaked up any knowledge he shared like a sponge? What did it matter, that she dug for even more with a hunger that had his heart feel like it was bleeding to witness it? What did it matter, that he had to struggle to keep ahead of her, all his knowledge and experience and power hamstrung by what the Veil had done to the world? That the thrill of success was all the sweeter for knowing he had something new to share with her? What would any of it matter in the end, when it—

“Feral little forest man!”

—it was not Adaar’s voice. Neither the voice of one of her parents. Wary yet curious despite himself, Solas followed the call through the trees, silently bristling at the moniker. It was aggravating enough that Adaar’s parents were so fond of it, for it to have spread to someone else…

It was one of the Dalish. An older woman, with a sharp, lined face, the mark of Mythal on her forehead. The skin of Solas’s face felt raw, as if from sunburn, at the sight. Adaar had introduced them at some point, he remembered—Ashuon was her name. She either didn’t remember his, or chose not to use it. More likely the latter, he decided at the hard expression that took hold of her features when she caught sight of him as he emerged from the foliage.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I’ve brought you some clothes,” she said, and lifted a bundle of cloth.

Solas frowned. “I have clothes.”

“Ah yes, that one cloak you possess.” She eyed it critically, and Solas’s frown deepened. He was aware the garment was not in the best of conditions, but considering it had survived his long sleep, he refused to give it up.

“Either way,” she continued, “these are mostly trousers, and an undercoat for layering. Fall will be cold enough, let alone the winter, and I don’t actually want you to freeze to death once the weather turns.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked slowly. “We did not… part on the best of terms.”

“You mean you’re a self-righteous blighter who thinks he knows everything? Don’t worry, this isn’t for your sake. Adaar asked me to, and the poor girl deserves better than having to deal with your thighs all the time.”

Solas blinked, perplexed by the non-sequitur. “What on earth is wrong with my legs?”

Ashuon rolled her eyes. “Nothing.” She pushed the bundle of cloth at him, and he reluctantly accepted it, before it could fall to the ground. “Might not be relevant anyway, depending on how she decides.”

“She—where is Adaar?” Her absence was puzzling, if not slightly worrying. For her to ask for material favors, especially from Clan Lavellan, on his behalf was already… He preferred not to linger on that particular thought for too long. But why would she ask for the clothes to be delivered as well? They met nearly every day, even if only briefly—it would be an easy task to bring them herself.

Ashuon placed her hands on her hips, her stance confrontational. “Do you have any idea how powerful that girl is?” she said. “If she were an elf, any clan would be lucky to have her.”

Solas swallowed down the bitter retort that brimmed on his tongue. No clan he had encountered so far would even know what to do with someone so ruthlessly curious, as mired in their stubborn beliefs as they were.

“Where is she?” he asked again.

“Talking to our Keeper.”

“About what?”

“Deshanna is willing to teach Adaar magic, permanently, as long as she cuts you loose.”

Solas’s breath caught. There it was—an egress. Whatever weakness, compulsion, misplaced sympathy—whatever it was that kept him fixed to this place, to Adaar, to everything she called home… what would it matter, when she sent him away herself?

He should be elated. His stomach should not sink like a stone at the thought. A wave of cold swept through him—

With a burst of magic, Adaar appeared between them. “Oh, good, you haven’t tried to murder each other—” She stumbled a little, panting, then straightened up.

“Hey,” she said, with a sheepish smile.

“Did you sprint the entire way here?” Ashuon asked, bemused.

“Sort of. I stepped through the Fade. Well, with the Fade. A lot.”

Solas almost dropped the cloth bundle as he tried to reach out for her face, before he caught himself. Her skin seemed flushed, and her pupils were blown wide. “You must be careful not to overexert yourself in this manner,” he said. “If you collapse from exhaustion somewhere dangerous…” He had managed that himself quite a few times, after he had woken up. Magic that had been as easy as breathing before the Veil had drained him to the point of fainting.

“I’m fine, I’m mostly dizzy from the speed. Did you—” She turned to Ashuon, glanced at her empty hands, then at Solas— “Ah, you did. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, dima’len.”

The hard expression that had never quite left Ashuon’s face while Solas had spoken to her melted into an old fondness, now that Adaar was the focus of her attention. Quietly, Solas turned away and took a few steps towards the trees so he might give them at least the illusion of privacy, but he heard their hushed conversation nonetheless.

“I—um.” The shifting of feet. “I think Deshanna’s angry with me, now?”

“It’ll pass. We’re just worried about you, dima’len.”

“I know, I know. It’s—thank you. But you really don’t have to be. I know what I’m doing.”

A low chuckle. “Creators, I hope you’re right.”

“…Will we see you again next year?”

“Of course. I—Adaar!”

The exclamation drew Solas’s gaze. Adaar had swept Ashuon up into an embrace that lifted the old elf clean off of her feet. She laughed, the lines around her eyes crinkling, and patted Adaar’s shoulders. Solas forced himself to avert his gaze again. His chest ached strangely, as though there wasn’t enough space within for his lungs and heart.

Murmurs of dareth shiral were exchanged, and finally Ashuon departed, but not without a final demand to “Layer up, forest man!” shouted in his direction. Solas scowled, but he did hold onto the clothes.

Adaar ambled closer, then, watching him. The silence stretched.

“Thank you,” Solas said quietly. “You did not have to do this.”

She shrugged, but her smile remained. “It’s not that big a deal. You needed some more clothes, and I could afford to spend a few days helping out with aravel repairs. They’ll fit, I hope. We can make some alterations if not—”

“Did you not take their Keeper’s offer?”

Adaar grew quiet. She crossed her arms and leaned against a nearby tree, with an abruptness that had the young trunk shaking. Her mouth twisted, teeth digging into her lower lip, before she spoke: “Ashuon told you, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t take it, yeah.”

Something lurched painfully in Solas’s chest, and his fingers curled tight into the cloth bundle.

“Why not?”

Adaar stared at him.

“Are you serious?” she burst out at last. Solas nodded, his throat tight. He may have sounded more incredulous than he intended—but still, the question was more than justified…

“Because I’ve learned more from you in a few months than I have in years? Because I enjoy being around you, when you’re not actively being a prick? And because I’m not that fucking naive, and I know these lands can be terrible to people like us?”

His pulse pounded in his ears, as if from far away. “‘People like us?’” he echoed tonelessly.

“Mages. Vashoth. Elves.” She gestured haphazardly as she spoke. “Maybe you’re just keeping quiet about it—but from where I’m standing it really doesn’t look like you’ve got people who will keep you safe. Or do you?”

She was right. She had no idea how right she was.

“The disadvantage of a solitary life, albeit a manageable one,” he said, keeping his voice flat. His heartbeat was still thundering, and refused to calm. Adaar let out a sharp, brittle laugh.

“It shouldn’t have to be like that,” she muttered. “And I’m not doing that to you. I mean. Unless you—if you wanted to—to go—”

“No.”

What was he doing? To be handed a graceful exit on a silver platter, and cast it aside near instantly…

“No?”

There were—reasons. She was right. He was far more vulnerable on his own, and he knew well the atrocities inflicted on elves and mages alike in this world. Even if neither term strictly applied to him, to anyone living in this world it was what they would see in him. And further…

“I do not wish to, as you put it, ‘go’,” he said, choosing his words with cautious deliberation. “I enjoy our arrangement of learning. It is an unexpected… challenge.”

The relief on Adaar’s face morphed into an expression he was coming to know quite well from her, a strange mixture of amusement and mischief.

“You almost sound like my parents, back when I used to figure out new ways to get up on the roof. And refused to come down.”

“A welcome challenge,” he amended, softly. How her smile widened in reply…

None of this would matter, in the end, he told himself. But neither would lingering a few weeks more.

[kireii-writes]

Can I request yandere Tomura stalking his obsession?

I’m your biggest fan

-

a/n: this has got to be the longest shigaraki fic i’ve written. which really surprises me since shigaraki isn’t really my type.

-

warning(s): stalking, yandere tendencies, mentions of drugging, slight cursing, a tad too long

-

It started out with an innocent cup of coffee.

Then, it was the constant request for you to serve him.

Afterwards came the personal questions asked as you sat across him at the usual table he would park himself at after your shifts.

Next came multiple coincidences of running into him when you least expect it.

Of course, you were too naive and innocent to see through his intentions. That’s why he chose you.

At first, Shigaraki had entered the cafe you worked at in hopes of finding a hostage to threaten the pro-heroes, under the pretense of just causally dropping in, like many other customers do.

When he opened the door to the homely cafe, you were the one that greeted him with the warm and kind smile you’ve always had on your face. At first Shigaraki thought nothing of you, until you walked up to him to take his order.

“Good afternoon, sir. May I take your order?” You grinned at the light blue haired male sitting at the small table furtherest away from everyone.

There it was again- that same smile that you gave him when he first entered the cafe.

“Just a coffee.” The male replied gruffly as he pulled the hood of his jacket further down his face.

“We have many types of coffee, sir. Which one are you interested in?” The smile was still plastered on your face as you stood there, waiting for his reply. “We have different types of lattes, mochas and espressos. May I also interest you in the different cakes and breads we have?”

“Whatever, just get me anything.” Shigaraki replied impatiently. “I don’t know what to get, surprise me.”

Upon hearing his reply, you were slightly taken aback by surprise. Sure, you’ve dealt with many customers who were picky, but never one who was uninterested in picking out an order.

“Very well then,” You clicked your pen. “Do give me a moment.” Smiling at him, you turned your back towards Shigaraki and made your way to the counter.

~~~

“Here is your coffee, sir.” Your voice caught Shigaraki’s attention as he turned his attention away from the window. “Do enjoy.”

“What is this?” The male asked as he took a whiff of the aromatic scent of the coffee in front of him.

“Matcha latte.” You smiled. “Our store’s speciality.” Seeing no reaction from the man in front of you as he continues surveying the coffee in front of him, you figured a little background information wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially him.

“Did you know? The matcha latte is our specialty because it-“

“I don’t care.” Shigaraki spoke up with such brusqueness that you immediately stopped talking. “What’s your name.” He asked or rather, demanded.

“Y/n. My name is y/n.” You replied quickly, as if eager to please him when in reality, you were just afraid he might pick on you and cause the manager to come out. There’s no knowing if you’ll get to keep your job if that happens.

“Y/n....” Shigaraki hummed as he drummed his fingers on the smooth table absentmindedly. “That’s a nice name.” He muttered. If you hadn’t been paying close attention, you would have brushed it off. Instead, a blush slowly crept onto your face at his words.

“When are you done with work? I want to get to know you more.”

Checking the clock on the wall, your face lit up with the prospect of pleasing a customer. “Five more minutes.” You informed him.

“Then come back in 5 minutes.” The red eyed man replied, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze avoided you.

He was like a little kid, you thought.

“See you in 5 minutes then.” You chirped happily at the prospect of making a new friend.

“Oh and,” You turned back to face the man that was looking at your retreating form.

“What’s your name?”

“...”

“Shigaraki Tomura.”

~~~

Ever since then, you’ve hung out with Tomura every time your shift ends. Without fail, he would be waiting quietly at the same table the both of you first met, until you were ready to approach him.

Sometimes it was just hanging out at the cafe after work, catching up on anything and everything. Other times the both of you would walk through the town without a destination in mind as Tomura listened to you talk about your day.

It’s been three months.

Three months since you’ve met Tomura, and you’ve never once asked him what he does for a living. And he doesn’t tell you anything about himself either.

And then one day, he didn’t drop by the cafe as usual. You thought it was strange, but for all you know he could be busy.

As the last customer made their way out of the cafe, you started to clean up when your co-worker took on the job of closing the store, allowing you to leave earlier than planned.

Even though you left earlier, it was close to midnight when you alighted from the train. By now, there were not many people in the station.

Wrapping your coat around yourself, you hastily walked towards the direction of your home. There has been news of dangerous people lurking around the neighbourhood, and you wouldn’t want to risk bumping into them.

Although close to the station, the neighborhood you lived it was a rather old one. Dim streetlights lit the way home, but they were so dim that it didn’t help much. Often you would hear of rowdy people laughing as they drink themselves drunk in the dead of the night, causing a ruckus to the people living close by.

Picking up your pace, you avoided all eye contact and strained your ears to hear for any footsteps apart from yours as you took a turn into the neighborhood. You thought it was stupid to be so anxious about it, but you wouldn’t want to end up dead in an alley the next day because of one mistake.

But still, you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling of someone or something watching you from the shadows. Turning back ever so frequently, you would scan the surrounding for any signs of a stalker. Every now and then, you could feel someone or something watching you as you walked hastily towards your home. And your suspicions were confirmed when a group of men emerged from the dark, menacing looks plastered on their faces.

“Hey little thing,” One of them drawled as he made his way towards you, the smell of liquor hanging onto his clothes and skin. “Where are you going? Let me take you there.” He hiccuped.

You tried to walk past him, but his drunkard friends surrounded you in a circle, preventing you from escaping.

“Are you deaf?” Another man demanded impatiently. “He asked you where you’re going. Are you gonna ignore him? You know what happens to stupid people like you who don’t answer big bro?” the man on your right snarled at you.

You could’ve just run through them, but fear overtook your body, your legs frozen in place. You whole body shook in trepidation. Is this how you’re going to die?

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that the men were now closing in on you. They were the kind of people that the neighborhood police have warned the people living close by about. They’ve been trying to nab these guys, but were unable to because they would evade the police and seem to have a hiding spot that nobody knows about.

A surprised yelp left your lips as you were being pulled by the collar from behind, your legs desperately trying to regain stability.

“Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.” You begged as a last resort. In response, you were roughly pushed to your knees as “big bro” stood in front of your trembling form, his hands undoing his belt.

“Stupid bitches like you should just shut up and do as you’re told.” He slurred.

By now, the feeling of someone else watching you apart from the men who’ve cornered you were the least of your concerns.

“No! Please!” Tears were running down your face in fear of your situation as two men from behind tore your coat away and roughly pinned you down.

A stinging slap to your face was all you got in response.

“Better open your mouth nice and wide.” The supposed leader hiccuped, his face flushed red from the liquor he has downed.

While you struggled against your captors and begged for your life, you thought it was over as the man grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open.

As the sight of him drew closer to you, tears wouldn’t stop leaking from your eyes. Maybe, if you closed your eyes it would be better. Not like it would help you get out of this situation you’re currently in.

But when the grip on your jaw loosened, you opened your teary eyes to see that the man had completely disappeared. And in his place was a pile of ash and dust.

“He should’ve gotten his filthy hands off what belongs to me.” A familiar voice reached your ears.

“T-Tomura?” You looked up through blurry eyes to see the oh so familiar face staring at the pile of ash with contempt.

Instantly, the rest of the men who’ve had you cornered released you and stumbled backwards as if they had seen a ghost, a look of fear flashing before their faces.

“Oi, are the both of you going to come out or do I have to finish this myself? If that’s the case, what’s the point of bringing you guys along?” Tomura said to no one in particular as he scratched the back of his neck.

“What’s the rush?” A second voice replied as a man with scars on his face and hands emerged from the shadows. “We have all the time in the world.” The man smirked at your assaulters as he ran a scarred hand through his thick, black hair. “And also, I didn’t join you so I could save some damsel in distress, Shigaraki.”

“Dabi’s right, you know. I just wanted to see for myself how y/n looked like, not come and play hero. We should leave that to the real heroes.” A blonde haired girl giggled, knife in hand. “But I can see why y/n’s got your interest. I guess you following her around for 3 months really did pay off.”

“Are you going to help me get rid of these good for nothings or am I going to have to disintegrate you for talking too much, Toga?” Tomura questioned the girl named Toga.

“Well,” She started. “There’s new blood, so I guess i’ll help out then!” Toga bounced up and down gleefully.

As the remaining of your captors tried to run away, Toga leapt at the closest man and plunged her knife into his neck, all the while chanting “new blood, new blood” gleefully like a little kid.

“Dabi. You get the rest.” Tomura scratched his neck, a red spot emerging slowly but surely.

It was then when you felt warmth as blue light emitted from the the black haired male’s palm. Wait no, it wasn’t light.

It was blue flames.

Soon, the terrified screams of the men who’d attacked you died down in the flames, the nearby walls scorched and tainted black with the aftermath of the blue flames.

And there you were, clutching your coat that Tomura had picked up to your chest, trying to process what just happened.

Tomura just disintegrated someone, the girl called Toga was collecting the blood of her victim, and the man with blue flames was standing there, his hands now shoved into his jeans.

“Y/n.” Tomura spoke as he looked at you, who was still a trembling mess on the floor.

“H-how did you know I would be here? Who are these people? W-who are you?”

The night was still and quiet now apart from Toga’s quiet humming as she cleaned her knife, your questions hanging in the air unanswered.

“You k-killed someone.” You whispered, Tomura becoming a stranger in your eyes.

“...”

“Because he touched you. He touched what belongs to me.” Tomura replied, a hint of remorse nowhere to be found.

“Why don’t you just tell her that you’ve been watching her like the creep you are for the past few months already.” Dabi smirked.

“And who we are!” Toga piped up.

Silence greeted the four of you as Tomura stood there, staring at you intently.

“no... wait!” You cried out as you inched back from the once familiar figure in front of you. Now, he was someone else- a murderer who feels no remorse and not the Shigaraki Tomura that you knew. 

“So?” The blue hair man scratched his nape out of frustration. “I told you, it’s because they touched what is mine.” 

What’s his? Did he mean you? Since when did you belong to him. 

“H-how long have you been following me?” You questioned, hoping that he wouldn’t hear the fear in your shaky voice. You needed to stall as much time as possible while thinking of an escape route. But three against one? Only a miracle would allow you escape. 

“Long enough to know your daily routine.” The man name Dabi smirked, mockery lacing his words as Tomura stared down at you and said nothing. 

“Creep.” You couldn’t help but whisper under your breath. Your eyes were stinging and blurry with the tears that were threatening to spill over, but you didn’t dare to look away from Tomura out of fear that he might try something in the mere split second. 

“We’ll save the questions for later.” He finally spoke up. When you finally looked at him, a syringe was in his hands.

“For now, get some rest.” 

A soft gasp left your lips as the stinging feeling of needle pierced your skin, and drowsiness slowly overtook you, your body heavy like lead.

The last thing you saw was Tomura’s ruby red eyes looking down at you.

“I’ll protect you forever, y/n.”

[sixtyeightdays]

you reap what you sow

prompt from @mialuvscats : i hope this meets your expectations ! im sorry this took so long, i tried uploading it from my phone but it glitched and i could only get my hands on the computer today 

i’d like to say that i think if sabine and mari are there, damian and talia willl be relatively looser and not as uptight . mari and sabine are cold but loving and sunshiney. they keep talia and damian in check, essentially. which is why i wrote them in to be loose and free but able to be openly happy when they want to be, even if they are only happy around each other.

with sabine here i also thinkt hat talia will be slightly easier on damian, which also ties to the fact that he will not be as cold and uptight.

talia will be a good mother in this fic bc i want her to be and itll be ooc but its okay its my fic anyway

and the timeline is kinda messed up and all over the place sorry

that aside, have fun reading and i hope you enjoy!

--

talia and sabine are best friends, and before most of the class joins francois, marinette ruled the school after coming to paris with sabine. mari and damian are betrothed and the two are best friends. they can be icy one minute and sunshiney the next, although the sunshiney part is more mari than damian.

maybe the waynes come to paris, bc if theyre in gotham the others wont really know if the queen is back, and theyre kinda unsure why marinette is being timid and very unlike her ice queen demeanor she sometimes uses. mari is closest to jason in terms of batfam because firstly maybe she cleanses jason of the lazarus pit after helping damian using tikki's creation magic to counteract plagg's destruction one. since the waynes are here theres no point in mari hiding her queen status anymore and queue lila reveal

-

Talia al Ghul and Sabine Cheng were an unlikely combination, but worked perfectly well.

The two women were extremely close. Sabine was almost as deadly as Talia, but she made up for it with her devious mindset. She was the one who steered Talia away from doing anything wrong --well more wrong than usual-- and the one who was assigned to dish out punishments to usurpers.

The two could read each other like open books, and hence, when both Talia and Sabine became pregnant, Talia one month before Sabine, the two knew immediately.

They had debated whether or not to have their kids be betrothed, and eventually decided to let their children make the final call when their kids were old enough to understand.

Nine months later, Marinette and Damian were born. In the League infirmary, an hour after the two were cleaned and left there to rest while their mothers did the same, the two had already grown rather close.

Their baby cribs were next to each other, and somehow they were staring at each other through the walls of the crib, and were making small grabby hands to the other.

When Talia and Sabine were sufficiently rested and came to pick up their children, they were slightly shocked, yet gratified by their children. Sabine smiled and draped an arm around Talia’s shoulder, smiling lazily.

“I guess they’ll be as close as their mothers, non?” 

Talia smirked, and the two walked forwards, lifting their respective children in their arms and walking to their quarters.

-

The two mothers did not regret it. Their kids were enamoured with each other, practically joined at the hip.

By the time Marinette and Damian were 5, they had a very extensive vocabulary, since they had learned to speak Arabic, French and English. They were also extremely smart and skilled with weapons. 

Marinette was extremely adept at using a yoyo. It seemed weird, I know. But when the League was stormed when she was 3, she had taken out 4 men with her yoyo alone. Since then, she had been teaching herself how to use the yoyo effectively.

Damian preferred to use a katana. He looked much scarier than Marinette, even if the two were the same age. He had found a natural talent in using blades, knives, katanas and daggers included.

Marinette was the Rain to Damian’s Fire. 

She was the only one who could calm Damian down when he was mad, mad.

But make no mistake, Marinette could switch personalities in a heartbeat. She was one of the League’s most skilled interrogators at the age of 5.

After all, who would suspect a pigtailed 5 year old in pink to be scary?

Damian much preferred his stoic and icy attitude. The only people he ever let loose around was Marinette, Sabine, and Talia.

Talia and Sabine loved the children to an almost deadly extent, and the four were extremely overprotective of each other.

Marinette had taken to magic as well. She had been trained by many people in the League about sensing magic. Damian did not have the patience for magic and rituals. 

Marinette knew Damian was more of a ‘attack first ask questions later’ type of fighter, a stark contrast to Marinette’s ‘i will curse you and you will suffer in agonising pain for the rest of your life’ preferred type of fighting.

She’d never really liked getting her hands dirty, hence the magic. Killing people with magic was so much cleaner.

Sabine and Marinette had to leave for Paris when she was 9. For what, she wasn’t sure, but regardless of the distance, she and Damian constantly traded calls and letters. They would never go even a day without contact.

They were staying with one of Sabine’s old friends. His name was Tom Dupain, and he was an old wrestler and had worked with the League before. He and Sabine pretended to be married and Marinette’s name had hence became Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Damian and Talia stayed at the League, although all of them knew that Damian was to meet his birth father when he turned 10.

Marinette adapted her icy demeanor in Paris, never wanting anyone to get as close as she was with Damian. 

A few hours in, walking around Paris, she had met an elderly man in a red Hawaiian shirt, emitting the aura of magic. She had confronted him, and eventually, he opened up to her about the Miraculous. Tikki, the Ladybug kwami, and Plagg, the Black Cat kwami had taken a liking to her.

Marinette was apparently something called a True User, a reincarnation of the first Ladybug miraculous wielder. Plagg just rather liked the aura of death and chaos she apparently gave off, from the League.

She and the other Kwamis also had a rather amicable relationship, and she’d go to the ends of the Earth for the tiny gods, and vice versa.

The elderly man, named Fu, had also started to train her into becoming the new Guardian of the Miraculous.

Before, Marinette had been planning on laying low and not drawing atention to herself, but once she had beaten up two upperclassmen for bullying her classmate and somewhat accquaintance Nino, she had been fiercely regarded by both the students and faculty. 

As a result, she eventually grew close to Nino, and his friends, Kim, Alix and Chloe. She only ever let down her icy demeanour around them, showing the bright and bubbly girl persona she kept hidden. She wasn’t as close to them as she was to Damian, but they were all still quite close friends. 

It wasn’t long after that Marinette became the queen of her school, at the tender age of 10, earning her title as the Ladybug. Or, as Chloe liked to put it, the Lady, because she was lucky enough to ‘get a friend like her’.

Marinette didn’t protest. She rather liked Ladybugs, and besides, it was ironic and it reminded her a little of Damian, who sometimes liked to call her his Maribug. Because she was sometimes a pest, he deadpanned. Marinette had whacked him with a pillow. 

Everyone in the school feared the Ladybug. No one knew anything of her past. She was a mystery, an enigma that no one could solve. When new students came in after Marinette turned 14, everyone was slightly shocked to see their Lady change.

She was much more bubbly and approachable. Word had spread around that Marinette, the Lady, was trying a clean slate for the new kids. After all, not everyone should fear her.

Probably.

School eventually returned to what it was like before Marinette became the Lady, although she did still rule the school, she did it much more subtly, with more restraint and secrecy.

One of the new kids, Alya, had taken a liking to her. Marinette did not like her  very much, she was loud and clingy and drew a lot of unwanted attention. 

Marinette and her old crew, who had playfully called themselves her Consorts before the name stuck, had split up temporarily, to cover more ground and spread their branches.

Chloe was to pretend to be Marinette’s bully, Kim and Alix rivals, and Nino a shy recluse. They had had a good laugh about it beforehand, before watching Moana, because Kim wanted to compare the size of his muscles to Maui’s.

None of them had accounted for Adrien Agreste, who had tried to get the gum off Marinette’s seat like the naive, sheltered boy he was. Marinette had admittedly gotten mad at him for screwing up a perfectly good plan, before ramping up her ice persona to like, a 2/10, to get the newbies off her scent and scare Adrien away.

It hadn’t worked, because the boy was apparently as stubborn as he was naive. But besides that, Alya had been really grating on Marinette’s nerves, especially since she was convinced that Marinette had a crush on the model. It was not true, of course. 

Honestly, Marinette thought dryly, as Alya dragged her all over the place to.. somewhere, she wasn’t even sure anymore. But frankly, she didn’t particularly care. Honestly, the only boy she’d probably ever have a crush on would be Damian.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

-

When Marinette and Damian turned 10, she and Sabine had taken a plane to Gotham to meet up with Damian.

Damian had not been having a good time. He was very much unwanted here, that was clear. 

Grayson seemed to be the only one trying to interact with him. His father, had been trying his best to stay out of Damian’s way, which he reciprocated. Todd was flat out ignoring him and Drake just seemed to be busy all the time.

After all, who would want to interact with a grumpy 10 year old assassin?

He missed Marinette.

It was the day Todd finally tried to open up to Damian, that Marinette had arrived. No one had told him that she was finally meeting him again for the first time in a year. Sabine had left Marinette to figure out where Damian was on her own. She was more than capable of it.

With a quick scrying spell, she found him, and Kaalki opened a portal headed in the direction of Wayne Manor.

Meanwhile, Damian just appreciated the fact that Todd was finally extending an olive branch. He was lonely.

It hurt seeing his father care for everyone in the manor apart from him.

He had been walking along the gardens in the manor. Todd had joined him.

“Listen, I know it’s hard to feel accepted here. Sometimes, I do.” Jason gazed wistfully at the sky above him.

Damian was unsure of where the ex-Robin was getting at, so he just kept quiet. It wasn’t as if Damian didn’t know who Jason Todd was. Before he had come to the manor with Talia, he had read the Waynes’ files. In addition, Damian had known of Jason while he was affiliated with the League. They had never talked, or interacted, but he had known of the elder boy. 

“I just, uh, wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me.” He finished lamely, running a hand in his hair.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. “Thank you, Ja--Todd. I will.” He settled on saying dryly.

Jason visibly relaxed and cracked a miniscule smile. There was a sudden ‘swoosh’ sound, and both Jason and Damian turned around, bodies automatically going on the defensive.

Stumbling out of Alfred’s rose bushes, trodding on a few accidentally, was Marinette.

“Angel!” Damian exclaimed, moving forwards to help her forwards.

She brushed her shoulders off, looking around before freezing, staring at something behind him.

“Jay?”

“Pixie?” He asked, sounding incredulous.

Marinette rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Jason laughed and hugged her back, chuckling.

Damian quashed down the bubbling feeling of rage in the pit of his stomach and settled for casting a frosty glance in their direction. Not that they noticed, since they were too busy embracing each other, Damian thought scornfully.

The two pulled apart after too long in Damian’s opinion, laughing.

“Angel? How do you know Todd?” Damian asked coldly, ever so protective.

If Jason noticed the sudden reversion to his surname instead of his first, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, he came to Paris with Lia once and I cleansed him of the Lazarus pit madness, like I did with you.” She replied.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked. Damian had forgotten about that.

“Visiting, of course!” She winked. “Now, let’s give your old man a good scare.” She pecked Damian on the cheek before vanishing. (Thanks, Trixx.)

Jason and Damian looked to each other. “Did you know she could do that?” Jason questioned. Damian shook his head before pausing.

“Wait.. how did she get into the manor?” 

The only response was the faint echo of a laugh.

-

It was time for dinner anyway, and only Damian, Jason, and Alfred knew of Marinette’s presence. Marinette had voluntary evelaed herself to the elderly butler after noticing his aura. 

It was Miraculous tainted. If Marinette could guess, he had been either one of Duusu’s, Sass’s, or Nooroo’s.

When the butler had retired to the kitchen alone, Marinette had unraveled Trixx’s magic veiling her and waved at the butler.

To hi credit, he didn’t so much as bat an eye before his eyes widened as he took her in. Marinette cut to the chase.

“Who was your kwami?” Alfred had surveyed her for a second before seemingly trusting her.  

“Duusu.” He answered.

Marinette smiled. “I’m Tikki’s.” From her perch in Marinette’s left pigtail, the red Kwami pried open the folds of her hair, waving once at Alfred before sinking back into the recesses of the bluenette’s locks.

Alfred blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m presuming you’re staying for dinner?”

Marinette beamed. “I’m gonna scare the big bat.” Alfred nodded, accepting this. Marinette clapped her hands and she disappeared again. Alfred shook his head, smiling faintly.

Conveniently, it was one of the times where everyone was there. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Rare these days, what with Dick in Bludhaven, Tim at WE, and Jason off being Jason.

Bruce was currently on his way back from WE, although it would take around half an hour. He had told everyone to start eating first. Perfect. 

After Marinette’s encounter with Alfred, she had reappeared in Damian’s room, where she and Damian caught up. Just like old times.

She had disappeared again once she left the room, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure where she went.

Alfred set the the table as per normal, which Damian and Jason noticed right away. They looked to Alfred, who merely winked before stepping back into the kitchen and laying out the food.

There was a screech of a chair as Marinette, disguised as Bruce (Trixx in her right pigtail and Tikki in the left) sat down. Dick looked startled. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be back till later!” Dick exclaimed.

Mari-Bruce shrugged. “Faster than I’d expected.” She answered, securing the veil of Trixx’s magic around her vocal chords, making her voice sound exactly like Bruce’s.

Jason inched away slightly from Bruce, though she pretended not to notice.

Alfred nodded at her as he reentered the room.

Everyone dug in, occasionally talking. It had been about 25 minutes before the sound of the door opening could be heard. Damian and Jason’s head shot up, thinking it was Marinette.

Mari-Bruce smirked. Showtime.

Bruce entered the room, not noticing Mari at first. Until the batboys gaped at him. He looked confused. What--?

Mari-Bruce was a pretty great actress. “Who are you?” She thundered, internally laughing.

“Who are you? I’m Bruce Wayne.” He answered, looking befuddled and frustrated.

“Impostor.” Mari-Bruce accused. 

Bruce spluttered. “No! I’m the real Bruce!” 

Mari-Bruce scoffed. “That’s what an impostor would say.”

Damian and Jason seemed to figure it out, although they probably weren’t sure which Bruce was the real one yet.

Tim rubbed his eyes. “Am I seeing double, or?” 

Bruce said, “Ask me something the real Bruce would know.”

Dick looked torn, but did as requested. “Who murdered your parents?”

“Joe Chill.” They both said at the same time. Mari-Bruce and Bruce winced, selling the act.

“When’s my birthday?” Tim asked. 

“July 17th.” Both Bruces answered.

Tim looked surprised. “You actually know my birthday?”

“No shit, Tim.” Mari-Bruce said, rolling their eyes. She rather wanted to proceed to the next part of her plan. 

“Would I say that to you, Tim?” Bruce asked slightly desperately. 

“Maybe?” 

Bruce facepalmed. In the confusion, Mari took the chance to slink into the shadows where she rewrapped Trixx’s invisible magic around her.

Only Damian noticed. He smirked. “Where did he go?” He asked, placing a hand on the hilt of his katana for emphasis. He didn’t see Marinette smile at him.

Everyone looked panicked. “Search the manor.” Bruce ordered.

Jason still looked slightly skeptical but did as he said. Damian drew his katanas and tilted it in the direction he was going.

Amongst everyone, Bruce was the most attacked. While Jason and Damian paired off, Tim and Dick did as well, ("Don’t go alone!” Was Bruce’s admonished cry), Bruce had gone alone. 

If she were being honest, Marinette had always had a grudge against the billionaire. He hadn’t saved his son, he had tried to kill his son, even though he had a no killing rule --which Marinette thought was plain stupid--, and he had left Damian to suffer at the hands of Ra’s Al Ghul.

Talia could only do so much to save her son.

Yes, Marinette was aware that Bruce hadn’t know Damian existed, but now he was still treating Damian as if he didn’t exist. Marinette knew how much Damian craved affection, even if he never admitted it.

Yes, maybe Bruce was getting better, but maybe she could.. spur the process.

So Marinette retaliated in one of the many ways she knew how.

Messing with them.

So when the Waynes regrouped in the dining room, Jason, Damian, Dick and Tim came back unharmed, and Jason had been filled in by Damian of his suspicions. But Bruce? 

He came back covered in honey and feathers, drenched with water and covered in pink slime. 

“Why is he going after me?” Bruce had questioned in that annoying voice of his, after looking over his spotless sons.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t like you. God knows he’s not the only one.” 

Bruce looked slightly hurt but Jason didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Maybe this person is infatuated with you and is vying for your attention.” Damian deadpanned dryly. Marinette had smacked him on the back of his head, still invisible.

But the damage had been done.

Bruce snapped his fingers and ‘aha!’-ed at Damian. “That must be it!” Bruce crowed.

“Are you that narcissistic, you arrogant plebeian?” Marinette’s normally cheery voice was dry and dripping with distaste as she unwrapped her magic.

Bruce, Dick and Tim immediately went on the defensive, shifting into a battle stance. Marinette only scoffed.

“If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so.” Marinette waved a hand in their direction dismissively.

Dick looked confused. “You’re like, ten.” He pointed out.

Damian glared. “I am ten as well, Grayson.” 

Tim butted in. “Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that this tiny ten year old broke into the manor unnoticed?” 

That brought everyone to their senses.

They were suddenly surprised by Marinette running at Jason, full speed. They expected him to duck or whip out a weapon, but all he did was stand still as she flipped in midair to land on his shoulders.

To their utter shock, Jason grinned, even as she fisted her hands in his hair for a better grip.

Damian only smiled fondly at his Angel. She was as short as he remembered, Damian noted. 

He missed her. More than anything.

Marinette beamed, and slid off Jason’s shoulders.

“Why did you attack me?” Bruce asked.  “Isn’t it obvious, fool?” Marinette revamped her icy demeanor and glared at the civilian Batman. “I despise you.”

Bruce looked very affronted. But Mariinette ignored him, even as he continued talking and made her way over to Damian.

“Damibear!” Marinette sang, as if she hadn’t seen him less than an hour ago.

The Waynes looked as if they expected Damian to attack her just for calling him that. They were not expecting him to grin and say, “Angel.”

Mari jumped on his back, and Damian merely repositioned himself accordingly, used to this from all her previous piggybacks.

“Okay so Jason and Damian helped her get into the manor.” Tim deduced, only to notice Jason and Damian shaking their heads.

“All by herself.” Damian and Jason chorused. Marinette made bunny ears on top of Damian’s head.

She kissed Damian’s forehead lovingly, replying to his ‘i am older than you’ with a ‘yeah by like a week’, and looked to his family. 

She winked.

Then disappeared.

There was silence, and then, “Wait, we didn’t even get her name!” From Dick.

Damian and Jason were interrogated that night, and they refused to tell them anything related to Marinette.

Marinette smiled from where she had hidden in the shadows, and made her way back to Damian’s room. She curled up in Damian’s bed, drifting into sleep. She was almost asleep when Damian returned.

And when Damian pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, Angel”, a smile made her way onto her lips.

By the time Damian had slipped into bed with her, her head leaning comfortably on his chest, she had fallen asleep.

-

When the two turned 15, Talia and Sabine sat them down and told them about the betrothal. Damian had been visiting with Talia.

It had been almost two months since Lila had turned her classmates against her, not that she cared, of course. She still had her Consorts after all.

“Marinette, Damian, we’d like to tell you something. An offer? Of sorts. I’m relatively sure you will accept, however.” 

Talia smiled as Marinette dragged a grumpy Damian over to them by the head, beaming brightly.

“Oh come on, Mian! Don’t be such a grumpy banana.” Marinette reprimanded the older boy who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy only smiled lazily, and ran another hand through his best friend’s hair, the girl making a small noise of protest. “Thats what you get for calling me a noodle, Angel.” (if you didn’t know miàn means noodle in chinese)

Sabine cleared her throat but looked at the two with amusement clear in her eyes.

They straightened. “Sorry, maman,” Mari muttered.

“Now, before you two were born, Sabine and I had an agreement. We are perfectly fine with this and the implications of it, so it is up to you to whether to accept or not.” Talia got straight to the point.

The two children looked to each other curiously before turning back to their parents. Damian nodded in acknowledgment and Sabine picked up where Talia left off.

“How do you feel about each other?” Sabine asked, watching the two closely for their reactions.

“If that’s your way of asking us if we’re okay to be siblings, since you and Lia are dating, Maman--” Marinette started but was quickly interrupted by a barely noticeably flushed Talia.

“No, not that, and we aren’t dating, Nette.” Talia aimed a playful glare at the girl, who grinned and blew a raspberry at her.

“How would you and Damian like to be betrothed?” Sabine asked, smiling at her friend and daughter fondly.

Marinette spluttered and Damian coughed. 

Talia and Sabine burst out into laughter.

After the adults got their laughter under control and after a few glares from their kids, Damian spoke up.

“Marinette is my best friend. If I had to be betrothed to anyone, I’m glad it’s her.” Damian looked away and Marinette coughed awkwardly into her elbow.

“You misunderstand us. You don’t have to be betrothed. The choice is yours.”

Damian felt slightly attacked. He really did like Marinette, and the betrothal was an easy excuse to ask her out (even if he was a 15 year old). He didn’t know if Marinette felt the same way, and he didn’t want to impose that on her, so he kept quiet.

Marinette, who was looking deep in thought, answered.

“Can I talk to Damian for a while, privately?”

Damian, despite his better judgement, winced. This was probably the first time in a really long time that Marinette called him by his full name. It was normally Dami, Damibear to annoy him, or some other weird nickname like Mr Grumpy Banana this morning.

Regardless, the bluenette hadn’t called him “Damian” for a very long time. Two years, maybe.

She walked out of the room, Damian trailing slightly behind, before stopping a few feet outside the room.

Marinette slid down onto the floor, her back pressed against it and head in her hands. Damian frowned. He didn’t want his best friend looking so.. dejected. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that the thought of being with him could get this kind of reaction out of her.

He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder like he always did when any of them felt upset. He was happy to feel her lean into his side like she always did. 

She turned her head and buried it in Damian’s side, breathing in his comforting scent of paints and nature. He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly and she almost burst into tears.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to being in an engagement with Damian, it was just that she didn’t particularly want to be with anyone or love anyone, especially after her father died and Damian’s father abandoned him.

Her mother and aunt didn’t show it, but they were sad about their fathers. She had heard Talia interacting with her ‘beloved’ before, and it almost always ended up in tears or frustration. (Not that Mari blamed her, Bruce was kind of an asshole.)

She felt Damian’s chin press into her scalp and a hint of a smile grazed her lips. But this was Damian. Damian who was her best friend. Damian who supported her no matter what. Damian who comforted her and was there for her whenever she needed it.

Damian would never hurt her. And she was determined never to hurt him, ever, if she could help it.

She looked up and smiled at Damian. The smile he loved so much, the smile she always had on whenever she saw him, the smile that would unconsciously fly to her lips whenever she heard his voice.

Maybe it was then that Marinette should’ve known that she loved her best friend, but then again, she was only fifteen. She didn’t know what love was. But she would. Very soon.

“We accept.” Damian told Sabine and Talia when they reentered the room.

“We thought you would.” Talia replied.

-

When Marinette turned 16, her last year at Francois Dupont, six months since she’d made Lila’s time a living hell with her Ladybug (both in suit and in school), and fashion clients connections, the Waynes had visited.

Turns out, Damian and Jason got caught trying to sneak onto the Wayne private jet but instead of stopping them, they insisted they came along too, having pieced together that Damian and Jason were going to visit the mysterious tiny girl they couldn’t find the name of.

So they had no choice.

And os that leads to now, with the Waynes standing in the courtyard, elicting a growing crowd as they waited for Marinette, looking the part of scary rich people that can end your life without a problem.

Damian suddenly started running, and he hugged a girl. No one could see who the girl was because her head was buried in Damian’s chest and his body was shielding hers.

Not many people in the courtyard was surprised when they pulled away and standing there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all, she was one of the most successful students in class that didn’t get fame from famous relatives. No, al her fame was hers alone.

In fact, the only people surprised were Marinette’s class, not-so-fondly referred to as the Akuma Class.  Her Consorts were the only one who knew of her betrothed, Damian. Other than that, Marinette had never been willing to share. 

When Marinette saw the other Waynes however, after hugging Jason, she rolled her eyes. Bruce, Dick and Tim stalked forwards, looking every inch the scary billionaires they were.

It was broken by Dick hugging the girl and gushing over how cool she was. Tim smiled at her and she had smiled back. Marinette flipped Bruce the bird.

“Why are you... so sunny? You definitely weren’t like that when you threatened us in Gotham. You were such an ice queen.” Tim mentioned, failing to keep the amusement out of his tone.

“What do you mean? Marinette’s always been like that, even if she is a bitch now. There’s no way she can be cold.” Alya remarked snidely.

Alix and Chloe stalked forward, raising thier fists threatningly. But Marinette only laughed coldly.

“You wanna see cold, Cesaire?” Marinette snarled, dropping all acts of being nice. 

The Lady was back. Publicly.

The silence was interrupted by Rose, who asked, "But Lila, don't you know the Waynes?"

Said Lila had been trying to slink away unnoticed, but when her name was mentioned, all attention diverted back to her, effectively keeping her in place. Her pale face and scared eyes were enough to tell that she had indeed been lying. 

Yells and screams broke out across the courtyard as the Akuma Class berated Lila for lying to them all this while. Until, Marinette interrupted, face set in a ice cold, stony position 

"Okay, blame her for lying." She started. "But why did you believe her?" 

The Akuma Class drew a blank and didn't respond. Partially because they didn't know what to say, and partially because Marinette's mere presence was overwhelmingly intimidating. Marinette sighed and pressed on. 

"Everything the Liar has said can be found faulty by a simple internet search." It was true, and the class knew it. When no one replied, Marinette shook her head sardonically. "You reap what you sow." 

She turned to her betrothed. In an instant, her icy mood was gone, replaced with the sunshiney-ness the Akuma Class had grown used to. 

"C'mon, Dami!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, hoisting herself up on Damian's back. Damian grasped her legs tightly, as she continued to be piggybacked by him. 

"Onward!" She cried out dramatically, pointing to the school exit. 

Damian only rolled his eyes fondly at his beloved, steering themselves out, her Consorts and his family behind them. 

None of them looked back. 

If they did, they would've seen the expressions of disbelief and regret etched onto every one of her old classmates' faces. 

Not that they would care.

-

5k words yay

also uh yeah again, sorry this took so long, i kept hitting a mental block while writing this and it didnt manage to upload from my phone for no good reason :( 

but anyway its up now, i hope u find this acceptable! :)