#never once found them boring sometimes my understanding for people's ways of thinking has limits

[ncityzen]

not to sound like I'm a reader who reads ex literature student who misses uni but I actually always loved the assigned readings at school 😔

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 8.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

The shower in the bunk house was basic and the water luke-warm but to you it felt like heaven. Troy told you the water was limited so not to take all day, to which you’d rather naively asked if he was going to shower too.

You’d seen the redness of his skin spread down his neck and his exposed chest at the top of his shirt.

“I meant after-”

You’d said quickly, then realised you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea again.

“I just mean… I know we’re soulmates and everything but…”

Troy had managed an easy smile and bowed his head toward you in what you’d come to see as a reassuring motion, as if he were trying to make himself physically smaller - a difficult feat since he towered over you.

“I get it. I think it’s probably best we get used to being able to touch hands first before… anything else.”

You smiled shyly, hating the coyness you felt. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had lovers. You weren’t some blushing virgin.

“You feel it too?” you asked.

Troy took in a long whistling breath through his teeth.

“You mean the way my whole body sets on fire when you touch me?”

You froze as heat coursed through you at the huskiness in his voice . Your heart began to beat as blood pumped dizzyingly fast into every part of your body. You forced yourself to breathe slowly.

Yeah, you knew exactly what he meant.

“Is that normal?” he asked, “I’ve lived on the ranch since I was a kid. Never really learned much about this stuff except for what Jake told me.”

You couldn’t think straight and searched wildly in your head for a change of subject, something to distract you from the way Troy’s eyes were boring into you.

“Is what your father said true? Did your brother’s soulmate die?”

Troy nodded solemnly before finally breaking your gaze, looking at his feet as he kicked at some dry leaves that had blown in.

“And I was an asshole about it too. I didn’t know… I didn’t understand what it felt like.”

“And… what does it feel like? For you?”

Again Troy’s eyes fixed on your face, his blue eyes darkening as he seemed to be looking right into you.

“Like nothing I could have imagined.” he told you. “You?”

Your smiled widened.

“The same.”

The smile on Troy’s face was more reserved, as if it were something he wasn’t quite used to doing in front of people.

“Okay then. I’ll uh, go find us something to eat. There must be leftovers from the canteen. I’ll find you something clean to wear too.”

Your stomach growled embarrassingly loudly and you heard Troy chuckle as he closed the door to the bunk house behind him.

You showered, basking in the warmth of the water and the smell of soup as wondered how many washes it would take for your hair to feel clean again. You ignored the way your skin felt tight over your hips and ribs, allowing you to feel the bones as you rinsed the soap from your body. Your eyes drifted over the cuts and bruises you’d collected as if they weren’t there, refusing to acknowledge the way they began to sting as you scrubbed at the filth away. The finger sized markings around your arms and the larger bruises on your thighs had begun to turn from red to a bluish purple. You knew soon they’d turn yellow and fade entirely, and you forced yourself to remember the ones who had put them there would never be able to do so again.

Between you and Troy, you’d made sure of that.

You wondered if you should feel something for what you had done. The shock and the adrenaline of the night had faded, so where was the guilt? The revulsion from having killed a person?

Not a person, you told yourself. Just another monster. Like the dead. Worse even.

You finished your shower, eager to get dressed again.

The towels left in the shower-room were stiff and scratchy but you wouldn’t complain. You called out for Troy, hoping he might be back with something to wear so you wouldn’t have to put on your filthy clothes again.

A voice answered, but it wasn’t Troy’s.

“Name’s Mike.” The voice said, and you felt your blood ran cold.

You were naked and alone in a room with no lock on the door… and a strange man standing on the other side.

“Where’s Troy?” You asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“He’s back?” The voice - Mike - said.

Your heart thundered as you felt a wave of nausea overtake you.

Don’t pass out, you told yourself. Whatever you do, don’t. pass. out.

You pulled the scratchy towel tighter around yourself with one hand and placed the other on the door. Logically you knew if he wanted to get in you wouldn’t be able to hold it closed against him. You weren’t particularly strong before the world ended and now whilst exhausted and malnourished you had even less hope.

“He’ll be back any second,” you told him, hoping the stranger would hear the warning in your voice.

“Good. I’ll wait then.”

The ice in your veins was steadily growing hot, turning into frustration. Was this person stupid? Or where they just messing with you?

You didn’t have time to find out since the heat in your veins became almost unbearable until a loud crash, the sound of wood breaking, made you gasp and jump back from the door.

It wasn’t the man trying to break in like your first instinct told you. No, you realised what it was when you heard Troy’s furious voice begin to shout.

“Mike! What the fuck are you doing in here?”

“Looking for you! Jesus what’s got up your ass?”

Your legs almost collapsed as you sagged against the door and willed your beating heart to slow.

“You can’t be in here.” Troy said bluntly. “Get out.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the sound of springs. Mike must have been sat on one of the bunks.

You heard the sound of the door being closed with a bang, and then footsteps drawing closer. You stumbled toward the door and flung it open, almost missing Troy’s wide eyed expression as he dropped his hand from where it was about to knock as you threw yourself face first against his chest.

Your body trembled. From fear, relief… from everything that had happen over the last twenty-fours hours, hell the last few weeks of your life! You’d had to be so strong all by yourself for so long, with no one to trust or to rely on for help.

Troy seemed to hesitate at first, unsure of how to comfort you. He settled for lightly placing his palms on your back over the the towel and waited awkwardly for your response.

As you fisted your hands into his shirt you breathed deeply, smelling the dirt and the blood and sweat of the night before. For some reason this comforted you, allowed your racing pulse to ease as Troy started making small circles on your back. His chin had dropped so his lips were pressed against your damp hair as you realised he’d begun to whisper gently soothing words to you.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He said a little once you’d managed to stop shaking.

You shook your head against him, not wanting him to blame himself for your fear.

“I felt it. Felt you…” Troy then added, his voice pained. You lifted your head then to face him.

His expression made your heart break. He looked so lost, so sorrowful, that you had needed him and he hadnt been there, again.

You shook your head once more, not sure how you knew these were his thoughts but they were as clear to you as if they were your own.

“You can’t blame yourself because I left. For what they almost did…” you told him gently, willing him to believe it too.

Troy stopped rubbing circles on your back but didn’t move in the slightest to let you go.

“It was my fault. If I had just explained… or stayed away that night…”

“You were there when I needed you. When it mattered. You came for me.”

Your words did little to ease his guilt but Troy tried to smile down at you.

“Sorry about Mike. He’s kind of never got personal boundaries but he’s harmless.”

You tried not to let your unease show.

“He’s your friend?”

Troy nodded. “Since we were kids, before I was taken out of school.”

You frowned, confused. Troy’s smile faltered.

“We can talk about all that after you’ve had something to eat and some rest. I want Jake to give you a check over too - I’ll stay, if you want me to.” He said quickly as he felt you stiffen in his arms. “And then, well, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

You tried to let that sink in. Time. It was something that had felt like it was slipping away from you since the outbreak. How much time until you found a safe place? How much time until you lost it? How long had you been hungry, thirsty… how much time did you have left to survive?

Troy indicated the bag he had dropped on the floor by the door which you saw did indeed have a crack in it where he’d pushed it open so violently.

“I’ll wait outside while you dress.”

You wanted to say it was okay for him to stay, but you knew you weren’t ready for that yet.

How strange the intimacy you shared by being able to feel each others most powerful emotions, practically reading the others thoughts at a glance… and yet this was where you hesitated.

But Troy’s eyes told you he understood. That it was ok. That anything you needed would be okay with him.

He stepped outside and pulled the door shut. You could him standing with his back to the door as if on guard through the flimsy cover over the small window. You smiled to yourself.

You clumsily pulled on the clothes he’d left you, blushing when your hands opened the brand new packet of underwear. There were a few pairs of clean socks and two basic sports bras which fit well enough to be comfortable. You wondered if Troy had picked it all for you or if he’d asked one of the women on the ranch for help. You were too embarrassed to ask.

Finally you slid your aching legs into a pair of faded jeans, having to tighten the belt to make them fit your emaciated waist. The plain, light cotton t-shirt was a little baggy but you didn’t mind.

There were no new boots or shoes but you were sure Troy just hadn’t known your size. Once you were dressed you stood awkwardly in the empty room, your fingers tugging at your damp hair to work out the knots a hairbrush just wouldn’t get through. For some reason you suddenly felt self conscious about your appearance, which was ridiculous since Troy had seen you at your worst… although there was still a small voice in your head wondering if he’d be disappointed with his soulmate now you didn’t have the excuse of being half-dead in the wild for your ragged appearance.

Drawing in a deep breath you moved to open the door and let Troy back in. He turned his head to peer at you over his shoulder.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

You nodded, “I feel human again. I've missed soap so much… and clean socks.”

“Yeah they’re like fucking gold-dust now,” Troy said as he stepped inside.

Again you stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what was supposed to happen next until you realised Troy still hadn’t a chance to clean up. Your stomach also growled loudly again and Troy frowned.

“Eat,” he said, grabbing the bag and taking it to the table in the corner of the room. He spread out the contents as you dropped into one of the wooden chairs. As your eyes fell upon the meal you felt dizzy at the thought of a real, freshly made meal. Or as fresh as leftovers could be. Right then it looked like a banquet fit for royalty. You glanced at Troy as he sat down beside you, waiting for him to take his share.

His frown deepened as you sat unmoving.

“Something wrong?”

Your voice was thin, tired. “Aren’t you going to eat too?”

Troy’s mouth quirked up on one side, an almost smile as he shook his head.

“You first. You’re practically all bones.”

You blushed as your earlier worries came back to mind, but troy’s smile was encouraging. You knew he wasn’t intentionally poking fun at you so without further hesitation you began to tuck in.

“Not too fast,” Troy told you as you swallowed your first mouthful embarrassingly loudly. You understood why when your stomach began to clench. It had been so long since you’d eaten a decent meal your body wasn’t used to it.

You ate what could, sipping at the water bottle between bites, and once you felt satiated you realised you could barely keep your eyes open.

Troy shook out the sheets of one of the bunks, flipping the mattress as somewhere in the back your mind you pictured spiders and all sorts of creepy critters that would usually make your skin crawl. Deeming the bed he made you suitable Troy offered you his hand, helping you walk over to the bunk until you practically collapsed onto the sheets. You were vaguely aware of a pillow being placed beneath your cheek and the covers being tightened over you.

Troy paused as your eyes fluttered.

“Do you want me to go?”

You barely had the strength to speak but you managed to mumble against the softness of the pillow.

“Don’t go.”

Sleep overcame you, pulling you under a shroud of darkness so fast you were only half sure Troy had heard you. But for the first night since the dead had started walking and life had been turned into a living nightmare, you gave into sleep knowing you’d be safe

Because Troy was with you.

[asksoldieron]

SO-1: Here We Go Again!

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

I'll edit in the real art once I make some!

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for This Seems Familiar (SO-1) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Woo. It's been a while since I posted this one now. As of this writing it's still lacking an illustration, but I went through and edited for continuity. I don't think this one changed much. (Mainly I needed to add the gumballs, and that's not until later. It's very important about the gumballs. Why? You'll see 😁.)

There may be a little quality loss here, but I'll need yet more distance to see it. The main thing is that I wanted to pen an opening that wouldn't be too confusing to new readers, or too boring to old ones. That's tough! And I don't have any beta readers who aren't already familiar with the story.

I should say, I didn't. And now I don't again! But earlier this year, I joined a group for autistic writers and... Ohhh-kaaaay. That was an experience I will not repeat.

I got fed up and finally cut ties when I found out they were affiliated with a local group that offers ABA for autism. You'll still find a lot of "favourable" articles about it on the internet, including from our "friends" at Autism Speaks! People just love it because it makes autistic kids stop acting autistic! Not "being," no, it just trains them not to act that way and inconvenience the rest of you. Often with punishments! Ha-ha, yeah. That's fine. This is fine. A disability is just like any other antisocial behaviour, you can just cut that shit out!

But I didn't know that about them, and I've been trying to make friends and connections. A group of autistic writers? And we don't have to meet in person? Sign me right up!

It was more a group for one particular autistic editor and her longsuffering friend, and the editor had all the inflexible dogmatism media tells you to expect from people like us. "I think everyone should stop masking because it's hard for me!" she said (I'm paraphrasing) once. "If we all just stop doing it, there won't be a problem!" Ha-ha. Yeah. They kill people like me when we don't behave up to a standard. Maybe not like her, because she's small, feminine and white, but people like me and my family.

That's the level of insight I was getting, but I stuck with it because I'm a people-pleaser!

We only had "time" for a couple pages of the first draft of this instalment (even though not many people were there and not all of them wanted to read words aloud, my god) and I got pressured into sharing first, having never been there before with no idea how I was meant to act. She proceeded to critique it as if it were a short story (not true) and as if that were all, or almost all, of it (clearly not true, I was sharing my screen at the time). I dunno if you wanna open it in another tab and look, but I began with Erik in the first draft. 1000 words into that is 1/5 of a standard instalment length and you've barely met him by the end.

I went back and added Miss Doubek (whom I was going to save for #6) at the beginning, so you could see the world through the eyes of someone a little less impaired. Because this writer group and editor convinced me y'all needed me to hold your hands a little tighter or you'd nope out.

"I don't understand what's happening" is like a kick in the groin to me. Growing up, I did not have a big enough vocabulary to express my big stories and big thoughts, so I heard that a lot. I still do sometimes! I'm overly specific and complex, especially when I'm upset, and I get aphasic and shut down. But, no, they didn't understand. The editor's poor friend was willing to hazard that there was obviously something wrong with Erik and she was beginning to suspect he was being held against his will - as one should. I solve that little mystery for you by the end. But I didn't get to read the end. I didn't even get to John coming home.

The editor told me (and, if I ever die of an aneurism, it will have been these words in my brain that killed me) "People don't say 'I know.'" That shut me right down. I was expected to keep talking and I probably did, but... Wha? Buh? I say "I know" all the time! One of my top ten ways to sort out my thoughts or rephrase and repeat what someone's trying to express so we're both on the same page. "I know [this], are you saying [that]?" But I removed it, and I don't think I put it back. (I think I ended up referencing the brain damage earlier instead, because I thought you needed to see a reason Erik might bit a little off, even if that's not the real one.) I'm still feeling self-conscious about using that phrase, in text and IRL!

By the grace of god, I didn't have a total meltdown and gut everything, but I wrote poorly and without joy for a long while. Trying to meet the standards of someone who had no idea what I was doing and didn't care to learn. She was an editor! I always wanted access to one of those!

Yeah. This helped solidify my now-militant belief that 1) Traditional publishing is not for me and 2) Stuffing art into a tiny box will kill it, so 3) Maybe we should be a little more grateful that people share the things they love with us.

I am clueless. I have sinned. I have issued unsolicited criticism on the internet, with the best of intent. But I am gonna try like hell not to do it anymore. Y'all don't need to be ruin your week. Unless you say you want help (and I will take you seriously, even if you don't mean it, so be careful!) or you're hurting others, I will back off and accentuate the positive. Even if the best I can come up with in the moment is "You made a thing!" (Ha-ha, nonverbal blues.)

Wow, that came out kinda sad. But I'm OK now! Tired of website glitches, but loving the writing part. I'd rather write another instalment than do any of this other stuff I got on my plate, but that's not in the cards for a few more days...

[Back to the Site?]

[devinescribe]

Niragi, last boss, chishiya, and anyone else of your choice if you so please

With

Y/N

Breeding kink smut 🤭

So like.. I want your brain... to never stop coming up with ideas you adorable psycho♡

Side note, not sure what they wanted specifically, so it's headcanons with a drabble under them Specific warnings under each Character, but the warnings as a general are:

Breeding kink (duh), overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics, begging, jealousy

Oh, and an even smaller side note that I'm still working on my smut writing skills so it might not be the best, but like... I'm proud of myself for even attempting to write it-

Niragi

Warnings: jealous Niragi, dom Niragi, begging

He didn't know he had this kink

Honestly, he didn't

But he had also never been in a relationship like yours

He has the mushy thoughts if having a family with you

Hates it sometimes.

So, when he finds out you have it, he's more than happy to try it

"S-suguru," you moaned, trying to move your head to look back at him. This torturous pleasure had been going on since you had gotten back to your room. It wasn't your fault guys talked to you. No matter how hard you try to blow them off, they don't listen.

He glared down at you, making you avert your eyes. "No, I want you to fucking look at me. Only me, got it?" He growled, forcing your head back to look at him. You nodded with a whine, feeling his thrusts pick up speed. "Maybe if I fuck that into you, you'll always do it?" He said, gripping onto your hips. You moaned and whined, tilting your hips up. "But it hurts when we're l-liKE- fuck- like this," you explained through pants and curses. It was true, your neck would be killing you if he kept it up. He stopped his movement, flipping you over on your back. "Better?" He asked, before resuming his thrusts. You let out quiet moans and whines, making him pick up speed. "You're only allowed to look at me like that, got it? So goddamn pretty and fucked out beneath me. He can't fuck you, can he?" Niragi asked, his tone being sweet. You didn't understand how he could say such things and sound so sweet. "N-no, can't. He can't, only want you, please Niragi," you whimpered, reaching a hand down to touch your clit.

The sounds of skin on skin, and the lewd noises that came from both of you filled the room. "Fuck, Suguru, 'm close," you whined, pulling him closer. Your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him in. He knew what that meant. "What? You want me to fill you up?" He smirked down at you. You nodded frantically, pulling him closer. "Please please please cum inside me," you begged. "Maybe if I get you pregnant no fucking guys would talk to you. All mine. Would you like that?" he asked. You nodded again, his words exciting you.

"Can I cum? Please let me cum," you pleaded, pushing your hips into his. "Fuck, yeah, go ahead, cum and make a mess baby,'' he groaned. It felt like heaven to finally hit your release. You could feel something warm filling you up, but all you were focused on was the face of pleasure your lover wore. It made you feel so good. That you had made him feel as good as you did.

He laid down besides you, staying inside. You tried to pull away to go take a shower, but he pulled you back to him. "You're staying right there. I was fucking serious about that.''

Chishiya

Warnings: none? Other than the breeding kink? Fluffy in a way? over all the most vanilla out of all of these in my opinion

Doesn't really have the kink

But since you do, he humors you

He hates kids in all actuality

He finds it fun, I guess you could say

Knows you're on Birth control/had your tubes tied, something that gives him the safety that you won't actually get pregnant

Less mess? Maybe that's why he likes it

You let out a happy sigh as he finally started moving. The thing with Chishiya was that he always took his time, making sure you were ready, and making sure he got his fair share of teasing. Sex with Chishiya could either be rough and kinky, or soft and low key, to the point where you weren't sure you could say you and your boyfriend had fucked. Because that wasn't the right word for it sometimes.

You felt his lips softly press on your collarbone, soft butterfly kisses that littered your skin. "Mmm.. Shuntaro?" You questioned. "Yeah?" He answered. "Why'd you stop?" You asked with a giggle, turning your head to face the man behind you. You raised a hand to run through his hair, and you saw him smile. "Sorry... got lost in thought. I don't think that's fair to you, huh?" He said with a small laugh. You smiled, and rolled your hips back. You heard him hiss in pleasure, and moved your hips back onto him repeatedly. "Ok, I get it... fuck, you're so hot. But you're not dom today, k?" He said, grabbing your hips. He was being so soft and loving with you, it felt so nice. His thrust weren't rough, and you really couldn't call this anything. It just felt like heaven.

His hand reached around your body, down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles. "Y-youre just so giving today, feels so good," you moaned. "Glad it feels good. That's all I want you to feel," he muttered against your neck. The blanket that lay a top of you two was soon thrown on the floor, becoming more of a hassle than a comfort right now.

"S-shuntaro, fuck right there," you moaned. His thrusts had stayed at the same pace, driving you crazy. "You're close?" He asked you didn't need to look at him to know he had a smirk plastered on his face. You nodded, and felt him nuzzle his head into your neck. "You're close too right? C-can't hold back for too long," you said, small curses escaping your lips. "Mhm... you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping onto your hips.

"C-cum inside me please," you begged, grabbing a hold of one of his hands. The idea of it made him shudder in pleasure, and he picked up his pace slightly.

You moaned his name as your orgasm took over your body. He gripped your hips tightly, bitting down on your shoulder as he came. You felt so satisfied, loved, and... hungry?

" 'Shiya... Thank you," you muttered. Even if he wasn't sure why you liked it, he would always make sure you felt good. "Let me guess... you're hungry?" He asked, pulling out of you, and grabbing his clothes from the bed. You nodded with a smile. "How'd you know?" You questioned. "I know you better than anyone else. I... I love you (Y/N)."

Last Boss

Warnings: Switch! Last Boss and reader like continuous switching of who's dom and who's sub, begging

He found out he had it when he was with you

Just... the thought of people knowing you were his

That you let him do that to you

It made him very happy

Even if he wasn't feeling dominant that night, he still felt a surge of pride

It had started off as normal kisses and shows of affection.

But it could never stay at just that.

You moaned against his lips, pushing against his thrusts upwards. "S-samu... fuck," you whined, rolling your hips. Even if he wasn't dominant, you would still find someway in which you sounded like submissive one. But all it took was for you to get used to it, and you'd be back on track.

You started to bounce a top of him, his face of bliss making you want to please him even more. His hands reached up to play with your breasts, and you moaned going faster. He groaned, throwing his head back on the pillow. "(Y-y/N), feels so good, don't stop," he moaned, thrusting up into you as if to get the message across further. The message being 'feels too good, don't you dare stop when we both feel this good.'

And you wouldn't stop.

There was just something about the excitement of it. You knew for sure you'd never get bored, because it was always something new with him. Whether he had read it in a book, or saw something online once, he was willing to try anything once.

On one hand, that also very much scared you because you never knew what to expect. But that was also the fun of it. It was very conflicting. But you'd get over your initial fear quickly, knowing he was never one for pushing your limits.

It just felt right. Whatever you did with him, it felt right. Sex was no different.

You whined, feeling his fingers rub circles in your clit. "Does that feel good?" He asked, looking up at your expression. He knew it felt good, he just wanted to hear you say it. "Yes, it does... fuck so good," you gasped. Your pace had stayed even, honestly forgetting what you two were doing for a minute. Even though you hadn't stopped, your brain definitely had.

"(Y/N)- shit, close... can I-?," he groaned, pulling your hips down on him, cutting off his own sentence. You were aware of what that meant. Perfectly aware, actually. "Close? You want to cum inside?" You teased, taking on the dominant role now. He nodded, making you smirk. "Use your words Samura," you cooed. "Please let me cum inside please,"he begged, holding onto your hips. How could you resist such cute pleads?

You sighed happily as you got off of him, laying besides him. "You alright?" You asked him. "Yeah. Are you alright?" He questioned turning to face you. "I'm fan-fucking-tastic. You're always so good," you laughed. He watched in amusement, knowing you were tired. "Sleepy time?" You asked, curling up next to him. "Yeah, I guess... goodnight darling."

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

[let-them-read-fics]

Worth It

Requested By: You guys!

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,543

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Suggestive Themes

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! A bunch of you guys have been requesting a continuation to the previous Lisa fic I did, so I thought I'd provide for you 😌 I really hope you all enjoy this little addition ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Previous: Dancing In The Dark

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You should've known. It was all too good to be true -- too close to being a fairytale as it teetered on the edge of perfection, just waiting to fall off that mythic pedestal. 

Lisa's eyes meet yours the moment you walk through the front door, opening widely as she scrambles to collect herself -- she clearly hadn't expected to be caught. 

"Seriously, Lisa? Wow." Part of you is shocked, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see this coming. The bags in your hands hang heavily, weighed down by everything YG sent home with you for review, and their plastic straps uncomfortably dig into your palms now. You don't put them down, though; they serve as a good distraction for what you're witnessing. 

"Y/N-- I can explain, I promise!" Lisa walks around the counter and tries to reach for you, but you're quick to step away before she can. 

"Don't," you say, glancing down at her outstretched hand. She gets the memo, giving a subtle nod as she obediently puts it back at her side to appease you. 

"I can't believe you."

"Baby I'll go pick up some more, any kind you want!" Her eyes are pleading now, scanning between yours with purpose as her brows furrow more and more. She's desperate to make it up to you. 

Her bargaining piques your interest, but you don't show it. She's not getting off the hook that easily. "How could you eat the last one?" Disappointed, you give her a hurt look. "You know I've been craving them and you still ate it! I didn't even get one!" 

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize that this was the only box of them we had." 

Your favorite donuts, all gone. And when you're on your period, no less. The audacity that your girlfriend possesses really blows you away sometimes. 

The pout on your face eventually fades a bit as you see the sincerity in her eyes, and with a small huff, you crack a smile. After stepping around her to place your bags on the counter, you turn around and wiggle a finger at her. "We're getting 2 boxes, and you're paying." 

"Of course, babe. You can get as many toppings as you want, too." She adds, her smile widening obnoxiously as she wraps her arms around you. 

"You're lucky you're cute, jerk." Your arms loop around her neck as she pulls you in, rubbing your back to soothe you. Despite joking around, she really does feel guilty -- she knows how bad your periods can get, and those sweet treats always seem to make things at least a little better. 

"Come on, let's go get them." She whispers against your temple.

You raise your head to look at her, eyes wide in shock. "Right now? I thought you meant we'd go tomorrow… it's getting late, Lis."

"Why would I miss out on an opportunity for a late night drive with my girl? Besides, it's still open for…" she glances at her watch before looking back into your eyes, "...2 more hours. I think that should be enough time for you to choose." She teases, narrowing her eyes at you playfully. You can be pretty indecisive at times, but a lot of that uncertainty seems to fade for you when you're hungry enough. 

"They have so many good options, though. You might have to help me pick." 

"Okay, but do me a favor? Remember this moment when you want to yell at me again for not getting enough of your favorite kind." She cracks up when she sees you hide your face behind your hands, laughing at yourself. 

"I do get pretty cranky sometimes, don't I?" You tilt your head to the side, looking at her with a soft smile.

"That's an understatement, but I'll let it slide. You're adorable." 

She plants a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car. 

---

Where you go I follow

No matter how far

If life is a movie

Oh you're the best part, oh oh oh

You're the best part, oh oh oh

Best part

The windows of Lisa's car are rolled down, allowing the warm evening air of Seoul to flow in and gently ghost over your skin. Vibrant city lights pass by leisurely, blending together in the distance to create a breathtaking skyline, and Lisa has no desire to rush anything. She keeps the car at a cruising speed, enabling you to relax and enjoy the smooth ride. Her thumb strokes over your knuckles as she sings along with the song, both of you knowing who she's aiming the words at. Occasionally she brings your hand to her lips, laying soft kisses to your skin. 

The heat radiating from your seat warmer fends off any possibility of a cramp, further putting you at ease. Today was a long day of rehearsal and interviews, only broken up by meetings that you didn't particularly enjoy sitting through. It drug on mercilessly, paying no mind to how exhausted you were or how eager you were to be home. Every time you'd sneak a glance at the clock, nodding along to whatever your manager was saying without actually listening, you'd find the time creeping by, the minute hand barely further than what it had been during your last check. It was boring and monotonous, but now you're here with Lisa and you couldn't be happier. 

The open sunroof allows for you to peek up at the stars, seeing them twinkle brightly for you, as if to say hello again. The sky surrounding them is rich; its velvety darkness serves as the perfect backdrop for them, making their colors pop in all the right ways. It's a gorgeous sight, and although you hate to admit it, maybe you're not too incredibly angry at Lisa for eating your donuts after all. 

"We missed you back at the dorm today," she says with a soft smile, her eyes still trained on the road as she lazily rubs her cheek against your intertwined hands. 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning your attention to her. "I missed you guys, too. I couldn't wait to get out of there; Jiyoung barely gave us a break, and we were practically buried in all the paperwork we had to go through. I've never signed so many things in my life." A grimace tugs at your features at the lame memory, and Lisa sports a very similar expression. 

"I'm so glad I'm not you," she says with an amused smile now, chuckling when you flick her. "We're so proud of you though, baby, and all of this work will be worth it. Your solo is gonna blow everyone away." The fleeting look she throws over her shoulder to you makes your heart swell with pride, and you're reminded of how far the two of you have come. 

Through trials and tribulations, hidden feelings and repressed desires, the two of you eventually found your way to each other in the end. You'll never forget the day that she asked you to be hers:

"Lisa, we can't get another cat right now! You know I love them just as much as you, but we don't have room." You try to reason, running a brush through your hair as you continue getting ready. 

"You're no fun," she groans, throwing herself back onto the bed like a frustrated toddler. In a perfect world, she'd have a house filled to the brim with little kitties scurrying around, rolling and playing with each other -- she doesn't understand why some people try to put a limit on how many she can have.

"Stop complaining or we'll be late," you warn, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror before walking over to the bed. You stand between her parted legs, gazing down at her until she realizes you're there and opens her eyes to look at you.

For a moment, she doesn't say anything; she just takes in the sight of you before shaking her head. She's smiling like a giddy teenager, and you can't help but question her with a breathy laugh. 

"I'm so in love with you." 

She's implied that before -- her words usually accompanied by nervous fidgeting and an avoidance of eye contact -- but something about this time is different. Her gaze holds a softness that you've never quite seen from her, an added layer of tenderness and care behind her words. 

She's not afraid anymore, and, truthfully, neither are you. 

You've turned her into a more gentle person - one that thinks before she speaks and doesn't act so impulsively anymore - and a sense of accomplishment settles within your heart. It's not that you wanted to change her -- she just naturally adopted some of your mannerisms, shifting into a better version of herself. 

"I've never loved anybody like I love you, Lisa." You confess, a look of pure adoration on your face as you realize how true your own words are. She's evolved into a better person to be with you, knowing that she couldn't function as her old self any longer, and that alone makes her different from all the rest. 

You see her release a little nervous breath as she moves to sit further back on the bed, coaxing you into her lap. You have a sneaking suspicion of what's coming, but you bite back the smile that threatens to break out on your face and allow her to speak next.

"Well, then, I think it's only natural that I ask that question." She starts, referencing back to the night that you all made up. You're glad you didn't jump into anything then, when you were high on your emotions -- both of you needed time to grow individually first, but now the stars are finally aligned. You know the time is right now, and you're ready to be together.

"Go ahead," you nod with a smile, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck as your arms rest against her shoulders. 

Part of you wants to mess with her and say no, but all of that goes out the window once she asks the words she's been dying to. 

"Jagi, will you be my girlfriend?" 

"I'd love to, Lili." 

Smiling like an idiot, she wraps her arms around you and lays back, falling onto the cushions with a soft bounce as she pulls you in for a kiss. She peppers your face with hundreds of tiny pecks, giggling when you squirm and squeal at her ministrations. 

You pull away slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and you grin. "Should we just cancel the reservation? I don't think we'll make it on time and I'm too happy right now to even leave." 

She agrees, deciding that eating takeout on the couch while Netflix plays in the background is a much more tempting offer, and reaches for the phone in your back pocket. 

She lets her hands wander, knowing exactly what she's doing to you, but you allow her to have her fun -- a fitting revenge plan is already being formulated in your mind anyway. 

The fingers of her unoccupied hand flirt with the hem of your shirt, sneaking up under the material to caress your side as she waits for her call to be answered. You brush the back of your hand over her cheek lovingly, reveling at how smooth her skin is. 

"Gorgeous," you whisper, tilting your head down to kiss along her jawline. She sighs as you continue, lulling back into that blissful state of happiness she enters anytime your lips are on her. 

Suddenly, the line picks up and a familiar greeting can be heard. "Hello, how may I help you?" A surprisingly pleasant voice asks, the smile evident in how her words come out. 

"Hi, I'm calling to cancel a reserva-- oh," Lisa starts off strong, only to get blindsided halfway through when she feels your lips against her neck. They tease the tender skin just the way she likes, strategically parted by your tongue every now and then to lick a heated path to your next target area. 

She has to pull the phone away from her mouth when you snake a hand down her body, allowing it to travel to all the places she wants you most. 

"Ma'am?" The hostess asks when the line remains silent, Lisa too busy moving her head to the side to give you more access to respond to her. 

"S-sorry about that," she lightly smacks the back of your head as punishment, but soon groans again when you nip at her pulse point. "Manoban. I need to cancel my reservation." 

The woman begins typing away at her keyboard, searching the list for Lisa's name. Your girlfriend's legs wrap around your waist, and she grinds her hips against you with a smirk on her lips. The little tease is loving this. 

You move away from her neck now, satisfied with the marks you left behind as you follow the path that your hand previously made. You leave no area unattended as you methodically work your way down, making it a point to give attention to all of her most sensitive spots in order to get a rise out of her.

You do, of course, in the form of quiet expletives and breathy mewls of your name in between the small talk she's having with the hostess. 

When you sit back on your knees, momentarily stilling your movements, Lisa's eyes flutter down to where your hands rest: right at the front of her jeans. She gulps at the mischievous look in your eye, but bites her lip nonetheless. 

"--Yes, okay Ms. Manoban, I see your reservation for 9PM? Is that correct?" 

You undo the first button.

"Yes, that's correct." 

You tease her, running your fingers along the material before popping the next one open. Her hips involuntarily buck up towards your hand when you brush it against her center, bringing a shade of blush to her cheeks. 

"And to ensure that we're meeting the needs of all of our customers, may I ask your reason for canceling?" 

You flick the last one open, glad that she's only wearing a semi-high waisted pair of pants -- that little game was fun, but her hushed moans have gotten you riled up. She covers her mouth, sinking her teeth into her palm to silence herself when you pull her pants past her hips and lay needy kisses to her upper thighs.

"Something just… came up. No fault on your part," she rushes out, wishing she could just hang up now and not care enough to be polite. 

Her eyes lock with yours when you push her shirt farther up, kissing across her toned stomach as you tug on the waistband of her lingerie. Its maroon lace is paired with accents of deep purple, contrasting with her skin gorgeously as jagged breaths ripple through her. You admire the bruising patches your lips have left behind that paint her stomach, splashes of darkness to accompany the material that leaves little to the imagination. 

"Ah, I see. Well we hope you'll come back and see us." 

Just as Lisa is about to say a hurried goodbye and hang up, the hostess asks, "Speaking of, would you like to book another now?" 

Lisa's head digs into the comforter, her eyes tightly closed in frustration… for multiple reasons. She tangles her fingers in your hair, her silent way of pleading for you to continue, and she does her best to sound stable as she responds.

"No, no. Thank you, though. Goodbye." The very second that she registers a parting word from the other end, she quickly hangs up and tosses the phone to another part of the bed. 

"That was cruel," she breathes out, though both of you know she isn't upset in the slightest. 

"You loved it," you say, self-assured as you smile against her hip bone. A slight tremble runs through her body, and it works to boost your confidence tenfold. 

"You drive me crazy, Y/N."

You're pulled from your pleasant reverie by the feeling of Lisa nudging your thigh with her hand. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes. 

"We're here, my love." She says, unbuckling herself. You let out a tired yawn before doing the same, and you thank her when she comes around to open your door for you. You settle against her side, and soon enough the two of you are filtering into the cozy little shop.

Rows of treats greet you, all tucked behind crystal clear walls of glass for protection from any stray kids that may try to snatch one of them when no one's looking. A shorter container sits beside the standing racks, stretching out to reveal an impressive array of ice cream and sorbet flavors. You wander around, studying the different options as if you don't already know them all by heart after being such a frequent customer for so long. 

"I'm debating on getting some ice cream, too. What do you think?" You ask Lisa, only to hear her let out an earth-shattering squeal in response. 

She clears her throat, amusingly composing herself, and acts like the inner 5 year old in her didn't just pop out. "We can get the Super-Ultra-Mega-Shareable Waffle Cone, if you want." 

"Sounds like a plan, babe." You laugh, seeing how ready she is to absolutely demolish some ice cream. You'll be lucky to even get a few bites in, you realize, though seeing her this happy is far more important. 

You spend the next few minutes deliberating with her like you're judges on some Food Network show, deciding on the perfect order as you rack the price up with every gourmet topping you add. Eventually satisfied with your choices, Lisa kisses your cheek and sends you off to find a seat while she pays. Upon scanning the entirety of the dining area, you spot a corner booth that's tucked away from the busy center of the store, and you smile at how intimate it is. It's perfect, and you begin making your way over to it. 

She follows behind you shortly after, shoving the change she just received down into her pocket. The large cone rests in her other hand, and she swipes her tongue along the top of it, gathering up a generous amount of whipped cream as she slides into the seat across from you.

You swear you can hear angels singing as you open one of the boxes, seeing the beautiful spread of yummy treats lined up together in neat little rows. Their delicious aromas waft up, making your mouth water in anticipation. So, deciding not to waste anymore time, you reach for the one that you've been dying to sink your teeth into all day and take your first, glorious bite.

It's made just the way you like it, with the perfect dough-to-glaze-to-topping ratio imaginable. The memory of Lisa specially requesting them to be made fresh warms your heart, and you open your eyes to look at her. 

"Oh mah gahd--" you say around your mouthful of food, attempting to not choke and die when you see how crazy she looks. Ice cream is already messily smeared across her face, reaching just about everywhere -- her cheeks, nose, mouth -- you name it; and her hair is haphazardly pulled back in a messy bun. 

Halfway through crunching on the tasty cone again, she looks up at you. "What?" She asks, sounding as if she genuinely has no clue as to the state she's in. You motion to her face, prompting her to grab her phone and look at her own reflection. Rather than getting embarrassed, she lets out a loud cackle, successfully throwing the two of you into a laughing fit. 

It's the good kind -- slapping the table, making no noise as you egg each other on, filling the shop with those joyous sounds -- kind of thing; and seeing her so carefree is priceless. Any trace of stress that stuck around from the long day you had quickly disappears completely, no longer deserving of the room it was taking up in your brain. This moment with her is perfect, and you're so glad to be sharing it. 

After things die down a bit, the two of you lean back in your chairs, tightly clutching your aching stomachs. Your cheeks hurt, too, but it's the kind of pain you're more than happy to welcome with open arms. 

Lisa reaches for your hand across the table as she looks at you with that special twinkle in her eye, her smile looking particularly swoon worthy. "I'm really happy I ate those donuts earlier." She's teasing, but it's the truth -- this night is a memory she'll keep forever, added to the list of things she never wants to forget. 

"Me too." You squeeze her hand and pull her in, grinning at the taste of ice cream on her lips. The next part (which you knew was coming) still makes you squeal: she nuzzles her face against yours, spreading the sticky sweetness all over you as well. 

"There. Now we're matching." She kisses you again, leaving you to attempt to hide the unwanted smile that parts your lips. 

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

--

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

[interstellarflare]

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART SIX-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @xmichaelmyers​

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE| |PART FOUR| |PART FIVE|

After activating the pager hacking device after you had entered the building, you and Homelander went your seperate ways for the night.

You watched as Madelyn Stillwell hung off of his arm, smiling and pretending that she was actually interested in tonight’s events as Homelander indulged politicians and government officials in small talk. You however, stood in a secluded corner of the room, waiting for your device to break through Vought’s firewalls whilst idly sipping a glass of champagne. You didn’t know how long he had been there, but Black Noir stood by your side, his arms folded over his armoured chest as his suit blended perfectly with the shadows to your right.

You were growing more anxious as time went by. You expected to hear a small beeping noise when your device had finished its task, but the growing fear that the device wouldn’t work caused your palms to become increasingly sweaty. You loosed a shaky breath, taking a small sip of the champagne in your grasp. You found small comfort in the fact that Noir was by your side, grateful that at least someone else knew what you were up to.

From your position in the corner, you could hear various topics of conversation. However, the majority of them were about you. ‘Who was that woman with him?’ You heard someone question, that someone turning out to be the wife of the Secretary of Defence. ‘Who is she? I don’t think I’ve seen her around before’. ‘Her dress is beautiful, no wonder Homelander chose to escort her inside’. ‘He was probably being nice, she doesn’t really belong here’. You felt Noir step out of the shadows and move to your side, his arm brushing against yours as he stood defensive and tall. As soon as he appeared, the conversations about you stopped, everyone averting their gaze to anywhere else in the room but towards you and the Supe. No doubt he would have heard all of the negative chatter his stern stance giving off a pissed off vibe loud and clear.

“Is it normal for you to intimidate people who piss you off?” You asked teasingly, a smirk growing on your lips as you finished the last of the champagne. Noir nodded wordlessly, his helmeted gaze not leaving the gathered congregation before him. You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly as you anxiously peered down at the clutch in your other hand. Still nothing. You huffed through your nose, your anxiety being replaced with frustration. What if all of this was for nothing? What of at the end of the night, the device didn’t go off. What then?

Slow music began to play, a choir of violinists, cellos and various other instruments beginning a long classical piece which you knew would likely last the entire night. “Excuse me, can I have a word?” A toxically sweet voice spoke softly, causing you to turn your gaze and meet the emerald eyes of the blood red reporter from earlier. She smiled a viper’s grin, her eyes turning a shade darker as she towered over over your smaller frame. You blinked in surprise and confusion, unsure as to why this woman was even speaking to you. As if sensing your confusion, her grin widened “I only want to interview you in regards to your entrance with The Homelander himself, it was quite spectacular I have to say”. You laughed breathlessly, unsure of what to do or say. So you shrugged your shoulders “Oh, uh, thank you? To be honest it wasn’t really that-”

“Tell me, is there a secret relationship going on between the two of you behind closed doors?” She pried, her question catching you off guard. You choked, shaking your head in disbelief “I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand” You spoke lowly, standing as tall as your heels would allow. The reporter smirked evilly, knowing that she had gotten under your skin. She stepped closer toward you intimidatingly close with her hands propped on her hips. “Well one would assume that something was going was going on between you two with the way he escorted you inside” She spoke lazily, staring down at you with a bored expression “everyone has been talking about it, you know”.

Your eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare, one that even made the Supe at your side flinch with how much hatred and ice radiated from your form. “He was just being chivalrous-” “Oh, I’m sure he was...” The reporter interrupted sarcastically, picking at her red painted nails through her hooded eyelashes “then again, why else would he associate with someone as dull and uninteresting as you? I mean, look at you. You don’t fit in here, you’re hiding in a corner for gods sake...”

Dull and uninteresting...is that how people saw you?

You tried to maintain your composure, you tried not to take the bitch’s words to heart. But why did they hurt so much?

Dull and uninteresting, boring and plain. You averted your gaze from the reporter’s and casted your eyes across the room. Where your eyes met his. And you knew. You knew Homelander had been listening, given by the stern and unreadable expression on his face. Damn his superhuman hearing, damn him to hell. You could feel him staring after you as you weaved your way through the dancing crowd. You could feel him staring after you as you climbed the main marble staircase, disappearing down the hall and onto a stone balcony. You leaned against the balcony, breathing deeply to try and prevent the tears in your eyes falling.

Why were you hurt so much by this? What did it matter what people thought about you? Why did it matter what he thought about you?

Why? Why did it matter?

It was peaceful out on the balcony, the noise of the Gala inside was nothing but distant rumbles. The music still clear as day. A gentle but cool breeze caressed your skin, brushing strands of your hair out of its well-kept do. Footsteps echoed on the balcony. They were heavy, but taken in a stride that was light and cautious. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind you.

“Do you think I’m dull and uninteresting?” You asked him, keeping your gaze ahead and on the night cityscape before you. You heard Homelander sigh, but he made no attempt top move toward you. When no answer came, your chest tightened painfully. Of course, he thought you were dull. Of course, he thought you were uninteresting. He was The Homelander. And you...you were just a nobody.

“It’s John...” You heard him sigh out lowly, his tone of voice showing no sign of teasing or malice. With your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you spun to face The Worlds Greatest Superhero with an expression of pure bewilderment. “What?”.

Homelander chuckled, a genuine sound resonating from deep within him as he stepped toward you, his cape billowing slightly in the wind. “Yesterday...” He began, standing beside you and leaning his hands against the stone railing “you asked if I had another name Homelander, otherwise you were going to call me prick or arsehole. My name is John”. You laughed lowly, nodding your head as you leaned back against the railing with an amused smile. So he did have a name. “It suits you” You responded, looking over at him with a soft smile. John nodded, giving you the same smile in return. “And you know what, any woman that can speak to me with such sarcasm, wit, and foul language, and live to tell the tale, is definitely interesting in my eyes”.

Your laughter echoed out from the balcony and across the city. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It wasn’t like the small sarcastic chuckles, or the amused scoffs you would always give him. This was genuine, this was pure. And he loved every second of it. But why? Why did he enjoy your laugh? Why did he long to see you smile, why did he long to always see you as happy as you were now? You turned to face him again, the frown on your face now non-existent as you grinned. “You know, this is why I don’t leave my apartment” You joked lightly, causing the Supe beside you to scoff. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything other than an oversized shirt and sweatpants” He teased, shying away slightly as you lightly slapped his shoulder. He laughed as you pouted, folding your arms over your chest as your eyebrows furrowed.

The music from downstairs floated up on a graceful wind, a slow waltzing piece that would have no doubt been played at a dozen luxurious events prior to this one. John stood up from his position by the balcony, moving to stand in front of you with a soft smile. “Dance with me” he spoke suddenly, holding his gloved hand towards you with a smirk tugging at his lips. Your expression became more confused as you looked up at him with an expression that couldn’t have been more confused if you tried. “What? You want to dance with me?”.

“Why not? It’s a Gala, we might as well” John tried to reason, rolling his eyes as you laughed loudly once again. Placing your clutch carefully on the balcony, you shook your head slowly as you placed your hand into his own. He immediately pulled you close, wrapping one arm securely around your waist, and intertwining his other with yours. The two of you began to sway slowly, your cheeks flushing a bright red at the amount of limited space between you. Your heart was beating so loud, that you were sure the man before you could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest without his superhuman hearing. The thought alone caused your stomach to flutter. Pushing down your nerves, you forced yourself to look up, and almost fell apart. John was staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t read. No one had ever looked at you like that before, with such emotion, with such raw-

Pain...there was so much pain.

For a split second, you couldn’t breath. The air was taken from your lungs as John flinched, his grip on your form tightening as his eyes widened in pure horror. Blood splattered the front of his uniform, tiny horrifying droplets coating his skin. A strange warmth suddenly spread over your chest, a deep rumbling cough caused the pain to increase. Blood dribbled from your mouth, your blood. You collapsed forward, the world suddenly spinning in dizzying stars. The ringing in your ears became louder and louder, drowning out the terror-filled shouts from downstairs, and John’s frantic cries. You could make out your name on his lips, his arms wrapping around your form as he lowered you to the ground. You were scared, terrified. What happened? 

You suddenly felt tired, your eyes becoming heavier with every second that passed. It was cold, so very cold. Everything suddenly became numb, consumed by the agony and pain that everything slowly began to fade. You never saw the figure emerge from the doorway, you never heard what John said to that blurry image of a man.

But the last thing you saw was his furious expression. His blue eyes glowing a bright red in rage, hatred, and pure madness.

Tag List: @lauraaan182 @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco @shilsvampsinger @cynthianokamaria  @delicatetimetravelarcade @coloursunlimited @clean-soap @themarch-oftheblackqueen @soft-hargreeves @kennedywxlsh​ @itskatrinahere​

[fbfh]

magnus chase relationship and intimacy hcs

I genuinely found zero magnus hcs and it made me really sad

Also might not be as in character as my hoo posts cause I haven’t finished the series my library is closed don’t come for me-

As with all steamy/nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+

Warnings: moderate descriptions of ptsd symptoms and emotional recovery,, also like boinking and dicks obvs

1.6k words uwu

‘,:)

So he absolutely definitely has ptsd 

I don’t remember norse demigods being mentioned as having adhd and dyslexia so correct me if I’m wrong lol

I mean his mom was brutally murdered, he was fucking homeless, then he was killed and taken to valhalla

So yeah

Ptsd

He’s really defensive and jumpy at physical contact for a while

But he’s also incredibly touch starved

He’s super whipped for you

So it makes him really frustrated when he wants to be affectionate and vulnerable with you but he just,,, can’t

He has a lot of emotional walls up too for obvious reasons

You have to have really clear communication with him 

Which you do,, and he appreciates it a lot

You baby step into affection and intimacy

And let him take the lead a lot

It takes a while

But after a bit he gets these bursts of affection where he’ll cuddle and make out with you for like

Five minutes or less

Then it starts to feel weird again

You try to do small stuff like hand holding or blowing him a kiss or putting your head on his shoulder to help melt that ice

And it works

It goes from feeling weird, to weird but nice, to nice but kind of weird, to nice enough to ignore the weird part

As soon as he can be,,, he is an affectionate fiend

He likes to bear hug you a lot

He keeps a hand on your cheek or jaw line or the back of your neck when you kiss a lot

He still gets a little weird about his back or stomach or neck being touched which you totally understand 

So you kiss his shoulders and collarbones and run your hands over his chest and arms a lot

Once he had a really bad dream and couldn’t sleep cause he didn’t feel safe bc

~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚ flashbacks fucking suuuuuuck ~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚

So you played some home renovation show and spooned him and whispered

“It’s okay, I’ve got your back”

He didn’t have anymore nightmares that night

He really likes back hugs after that, as long as he knows it’s you behind him

He gives really nice kisses

It’s like a big full kiss

Idk how else to describe it but it’s very unique to him

He’s super protective over you still in a healthy way

He’s super fuckin pansexual and you can pry that from my cold dead hands

So he has a lot of hoodies and denim jackets

And bracelet stacks and weird dad thrift store shirts

And you can get him more of these things no matter how many he has and he will love it an equal amount 

Which is a lot

He gets kind of insecure and feels bad about all his weird symptoms bc he minimizes what he’s been through a lot

It’s kind of a why can’t I just get over it and be normal feeling

You remind him a lot that it’s okay and his feelings and experiences are valid and he’s safe now

He needs to hear that a lot

Once a lot of that ice has been broken he gets really touchy really fast

You two were just like

Chilling on the couch watching a movie or something

And he nuzzles into your side to cuddle

So you lay down a little more and he rests his head on your chest

You keep watching the movie like that for a while 

He props himself up and just kind of looks at you for a minute

He can’t remember feeling this warm before he met you

And now he feels really really warm 

And tingly

You’re about to look over and ask if he’s alright when he just 

Presses his face into your neck and starts kissing you

You let out this breathy flustred little laugh he’s never heard before and he wants to make you make that sound again

He kisses up to your face and his hair is all in his eyes

So you brush it out of the way and tuck it behind his ear and his face nuzzles into your hand

He bites back a moan

You end up making out a lot

Which leads to,, other things

You don’t question it or ask where that came from

You just give him a lot of love and reassurance

Once he feels comfortable,,,, I hope you’re ready bitch

Cause you’ll be under him

And on top of him

A lot

Like a lot lot

He doesn’t have a lot of experience so he likes it when you take the lead

Big fan of showering together

I almost fucking forgot

He thinks you look hot in everthing obvs

But if you wear his boxers 

He goes apeshit

If you wear bras he likes the unlined sheer ones best on you

He also thinks you look really nice in boyshorts and cheekies

Esp the invisible microfiber ones

He likes how soft they are and how they just kind of seamlessly glide over your hips

If you play with his hair he practically starts purring

If you tug it really gently he moans

Just thought you should know that

Things get really intense in a good way with him

He gets very caught up in the heat of the moment

Has broken the bed before

And would do it again

Blitz and hearth almost walked in on you two cause they heard a loud crack and thought someone broke in

It was a very very close call

You laughed about it a lot later

He also likes things to be really soft and fluffy

So sleepy morning sex is definitely in his vocabulary

When he gets more comfortable he loves when you rest your head on his tummy and he can play with your hair and touch your shoulders

He also likes when you have your hand resting on his lower back

He finds it really grounding

Gives a lot of back hugs

Sometimes his head is resting on your head or shoulders

Sometimes he’s sucking on your neck

Just kinda depends yk

Really really likes it when you straddle him

Esp when you play with the hem of his clothes

You really really like to straddle him too

It’s a nice seat if you get what I’m sayin

Kind of wants to have shower sex with you but is also really scared of slipping and getting hurt

Settles for romantic bubble baths instead

Kind of stubbly, esp in the morning

It’s really cute

But kind of ouchie on more,,, sensitive areas

He’s usually fine staying a little stubbly, unless he’s planning to surprise you

You get a little excited when you see him shaving extra carefully

He sees you staring and just kind of looks you up and down and winks

Alksdjafskfja 

He likes having his hair longer

So do you

So you show him different ways to do little buns and stuff to keep it out of his face and stop it from getting tangled when he sleeps

Ngl you haven’t lived until you’ve seen magnus hard in his boxers kneeling over you hastily throwing up his hair so you can have some fun

That image is thankfully burned into your retinas for all eternity 

You get palpitations thinking about it

You’re the only one allowed to play with his hair or call him maggie/mags

He sometimes borrows your scrunchies and it’s really really cute

You end up with this little routine of swapping them when they stop smelling like the other person

If you don’t wear scrunchies you get him some and he thinks it’s adorable

You also steal them and swap them out when they don’t smell like him anymore

He loves having picnics outside with you

Especially to go stargazing

Yeah rooftop picnics are a thing

Plus people can’t really see what you’re doing and no one really goes up there so uh

As long as you can stay quiet you’re never bored

Sometimes when you’re stargazing his hand will just kind of gradually go from resting on your hip to wrapping his arms around you and having you lean against his chest

You sometimes raid the fridge together in the middle of the night

You took him to mcdonalds at like 2am once

It was not the last time that happened

Totally the type to love getting matching pj bottoms with you

Really loves it when you hold his hand with both of yours

It makes him feel really loved and masculine in a good healthy way and generally good

On days when he just Needs a Distraction you try any hobby or activity you can get your hands on

His favorites so far are painting each others nails, random online flash games like papa’s, finding the best climbing trees (weather permitting), and binge watching and reviewing the weirdest shows and movies you can find

Including but not limited to flava of love, josie and the pussycats in outer space, lightning point, and clone high

The movies are usually really low budget, or questionable teen romance movies like twilight, sierra burgess is a loser, the kissing booth etc. 

You still quote clone high to this day

He’s very excited for the reboot me too, magnus, me too

Doesn’t stop clowning on TJ bc of it

TJ has no fucking idea what he’s talking about 

“For the last time Magnus, I’m just named after him. I’m not a clone. I don’t know John Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln, and how could I possibly know Cleopatra??? Where are you getting this from, you understood this like a week ago-”

He really likes just kind of hugging you from behind and smooching wherever he can and swaying back and forth

Tells you he loves you a lot

Really really grateful you’re in his life

Does everything he possibly can to be the best boyfriend

Cause you deserve it

Did i mention he loves you a lot lot lot

Cause he really does

Treat him right, give him a lot of love 

He also blushes really easily shhh

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 7

So this chapter is in Ivar’s POV. Kind of a glimpse as to see what is going on with him. Plus, its a great excuse to write some Floki/Ivar interaction. 

Warnings: swearing, implied violence, Ivar having boundary issues but that’s not new. 

Words: 4550

Tag List: @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @zuxiezendler​ @punkrocknpearls​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

"There you are, you crippled bastard. I've been looking everywhere."

 Ivar smirked, exhaling the cigarette smoke from his mouth, not even turning his gaze from the lights of the city beneath him. "How did you get up here? I thought your old, lazy ass wouldn't be able to handle it."

 Floki scoffed as he moved to stand next to his protégé. "Old, lazy ass. I may be old but I could still kick your ass if I wanted too."

 Wordlessly, Ivar pulled out his cigarette carton from his suit’s pocket, taking one out and handing it to Floki. He grabbed his lighter and held it out, open palm. When Floki did not immediately take it, he glanced over to see one of the people he trusted most, staring down at the cigarette spinning between his fingers. 

 "I won't tell Helga."

 Floki giggled. "You're a bad influence on me, boy." He took the lighter and lit his cigarette, handing it back over after. 

 The two stood silently for several minutes, leaning against the railing, overlooking the city. They were at the Ragnarssons Trading headquarters, one of the taller buildings in the heart of the city. The sound of humanity floated away to a hushed background noise with how high up they stood. The upper floors of the building were restricted access, being the main offices and meeting rooms of Ragnar, his sons and others deemed important. The lower floors housed the cesspool of asinine insubordinates, those that did their limited jobs and were easily replaced. Ivar avoided those floors, not just because of the stares, or the twittering females and few males who vied for attention from the Ragnarssons in hopes of snatching one up or thinking sleeping with them as an easy way to further their careers. No, he found them all boring and beneath him. With a single look, he knew what many of them wanted, they were so easy to read, to know their simple minds. It was pathetic. 

 So, when he did come to the headquarters, he immediately headed to the upper floors. He had an office next to Torstein that he used infrequently. Most of his work he could do remotely, a blessing due to his condition and his volatile temperament. When he had work that needed extra cyber security or to delve deeper into concerns, having the multiple monitors at his office and the ability to search out his father or brothers immediately came in handy. 

 The roof of the building was his favorite place to think and plan. No one came up here but more than that, he could see everything. The city, the surrounding water, everything. He wondered if this was what the gods felt like looking down on Midgard from Valhalla. 

 Ivar exhaled, the curl of smoke slipping from his lips. "Are you coming to the meeting?"

 Floki ran a hand over his tattooed head. "Your father asked for me to come."

 "Mmmm. Know what it's about?"

 "Probably the same old boring shit."

 They chuckled, still staring over the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Ivar could see Floki tug uncomfortably on the black business suit he wore. The only reason the shipbuilder ever wore anything remotely formal was when Ragnar demanded it….and coming to the headquarters fit into the category. Ragnar liked to say that if they wanted to be taken as serious businessmen then they needed to dress the part, and it was not too difficult to wash blood out of the suits. 

 The youngest Lothbrok leaned against the railing in a charcoal gray suit, his dark hair pulled back into a man-bun. He did not mind the formal attire as much, there was a sense of prestige and strength that came with it. On more than one occasion, he had been told he presented a striking figure and he liked to use that to his advantage. Whether it was terror or arousal that his figure caused depended on the person. He knew how to control them all. 

 A vibration had Ivar pulling out his phone to see a new text from Kari. He smiled softly at her cheeky response. When asked what she was doing tonight, she said she was taking a bubble bath and reading a book. He said he did not believe her and demanded a picture as proof she was actually taking a bubble bath like a child. Now he gazed down at an image of her feet peeking out of bubbles against a porcelain bathtub. The picture was so innocent yet sensual, just like his kitten. An innocent seductress. His cock began to stiffen at the lewd ideas running rampage through his mind at the simple picture. 

 With her picture came a text.

 Kari: You should try it sometime. It's very relaxing. 

 He snorted. There was no way in hell he would ever take a bubble bath, and he figured she probably knew it. 

 Ivar: the only way I'm gtn n2 a bubble bath is if u in there w/ me

 Grinning smugly, he could imagine the flush on her cheeks at his answer as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

 Floki's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You going to tell me about her?"

 Ivar did not answer right away, taking a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaling it. "Nothing to fucking tell."

 "Hmmm…. I'd bet she is the only person you smile for like that."

 "Fuck…." He ran his hand over his mouth, before turning to lean his back against the roof's railing. Floki was right and clearly knew it if the sly look said anything. It made Ivar want to knock the smirk off the madman's face with his cane, which rested on the railing next to him. 

 "This isn't like Freydis, right?" Floki quietly inquired after several minutes of companionable silence. 

 "Gods, no. She is…." He found his words trailing off, unable to articulate what Kari meant to him. 

 Freydis had been a hope for someone more than just a fuck, someone who potentially cared for him. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that she may have cared for him, but she cared more for the status and money being in a relationship with him allowed. So, they used each other. She wasted his money on frivolous things, lavishing herself with stuff she would never dream of having otherwise. He used her for fucking and to have someone on his arm when they attended events, to silence the pitying looks from others and the comments that he did not know how to please a woman. 

 After ten months though, he found himself resenting her and their relationship. It was then he broke it off with her. She cried, supposedly heartbroken but he did not care. In the months following, she tried to worm her way back into his life but he slammed the door shut, uncaring of how cruel he appeared to others. He fucked other women or had them give him blow jobs, never even taking the time to remove his leg braces or pants. They meant nothing. They were nothing. 

 But all that changed a month ago when a woman with blue-green eyes and a sweet innocence about her bumped into him…. and then confused the hell out of him when she kissed him. 

 "What's her name?" Floki asked, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette.

 "Kari." He answered, probably sounding far softer than he meant to. After, he tilted his head to look at his surrogate father, brow furrowed. "How'd you find out?"

 "The gods told me." At Ivar's unamused look, Floki giggled. "Your brothers. They said you have a new girlfriend."

 "She's not."

 "Mmmm?"

 He sighed. "My girlfriend. She's made that very fucking clear. She keeps saying she can't be my girlfriend or she doesn't want to date right now. It's fucking infuriating!" He ripped the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it on the ground. "I don’t…. I don't fucking understand. She always says we're just friends, but I know she wants more. Sometimes I can see it when she looks at me. I don't know what to fucking do!" 

 "Why are you still wasting time on her then? She sounds like she doesn't care. Just move on from the bitch."

 "Don't you fucking call her that! And she does care! More than most people." He snarled, fists trembling at his side. When Floki only smirked at him, Ivar rolled his eyes, anger slowly abating. He played into the old man's game easily. 

 Floki dropped his own half-used cigarette, eyeing Ivar curiously. "What is it about this girl?"

 "She…. fuck…. she sees me. Not a cripple. Not some rich guy she can fuck and get stuff from. She sees... she sees me. Just me. Like you and mother. I don't….no one has looked at me like that. There's always a motive, always an angle. But not with her." The words rolled off his tongue, a dam unleashed, as if begging to have been finally uttered, to share his thoughts aloud to make sense of them. With Floki, he knew his thoughts were safe, that the man would never cruelly make fun of him. 

 "You really care about this girl."

 Ivar did not answer, the truth already hung in the air as if painted in the sky for all to see.  

 Floki moved closer, wrapping his arm around Ivar's shoulder and pressing their foreheads together. "Give her time. The gods will tell you what to do. But for fuck's sake, stop stalking her. Hvitserk made sure to tell us how you showed up at her work and home unannounced."

 Ivar chuckled, mirroring Floki's action. "Hvitty better keep his fucking hands off her."

 "He will. He sees how important she is to you." Floki leaned back, that stupid grin on his face. "When do I get to meet her?"

 "Why the hell do you think I'd let her meet your insane ass? She'd take one look at you and run away."

 "She puts up with your stupidity. I'd be an improvement for her." 

 "Fuck off." Ivar laughed, throwing a mock punch at the man. "I've only known her for a month."

 "But it feels longer, right?"

 Ivar startled at the soft tone Floki used, like he knew exactly how Ivar felt. For once, he wondered if this was how Helga and Floki’s relationship felt. His tone was just as quiet, almost reverent as he answered. "Yeah."

 "Don't do something stupid and lose her. Meet her where she is. Be her friend if that's what she wants. She seems good for you."

 "Where is this wisdom coming from?" Ivar scoffed, running a hand over the braids on top of his head. 

 "I've always been wise, you just don't listen, pretentious asshole."

 "No, it's Helga that's the wise one."

 "My sweet Helga certainly is." Floki clapped a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "Come on, the meeting will be starting soon. I was sent to find your crippled ass."

 "Why the fuck are we talking then?"

 "I wanted to hear about this girl. From the sounds of it, you'll start waxing poetic sonnets about the poor girl soon and the gods will certainly…."

 "Shut the fuck up." 

 Talking casually about the latest boat Floki was working on building back home in Norway, they headed towards the meeting room attached to Ragnar's office. The trip from the roof to the meeting room should have been quick but Ivar moved slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. He knew the whites of his eyes had an alarming shade of blue. He had seen it that morning when he looked in the mirror but even more so, he could feel it in his bones. It felt as if with one simple misstep, he would break a bone. The fragility of his body was never more evident than on these days. 

 He loathed it. 

 Thankfully, Floki made no comments about Ivar's eyes or his slow, measured gait. Instead he talked, making sure to hold doors open and continued in his loping walk as if they were on a leisurely stroll. He did comment about how nice Ivar's cane was and asked if he had used it on anyone recently. 

 The cane had been a gift from Floki three years ago for his birthday. It appeared to be an expensive cane made up of an ebony tapered shaft and sterling silver handle with a snarling wolf's head. What only a few knew was that if Ivar twisted the handle and pulled, a long, slender knife came out, the blade attached to the handle. Plus, the shaft of the cane was reinforced with a sturdy material, making it easily used as a blunt force object without fear of it bending or denting. Floki had said long ago that one should never be without a weapon, and the cane was his way of ensuring Ivar followed that sentiment. 

 The private meeting room of Ragnar was a spacious corner room with two walls made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, a dark hardwood flooring and deep green walls. A single slab wooden oak table was the centerpiece of the room, with cushioned chairs around it. Currently all those seats were filled besides two, signifying that Floki and Ivar were the last to arrive at the meeting. 

 Ragnar Lothbrok looked up as they entered the meeting room, appearing both suave and intimidating in his gray business suit and hair plaited. "Where have you two been?" He narrowed his piercing eyes at Floki. "I thought Helga wanted you to stop smoking."

 "Your son is very convincing." Floki shrugged. 

 The patriarch's lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. He waved at the almost full table. "Sit. Let's get this started."

 At the beginning of each month, Ragnar liked to meet with his sons and few trusted advisors to review the past month and discuss anything important in the future. It was his way of checking in with progress and making sure everyone was doing their jobs, while keeping all informed. Ivar typically found the meetings boring and a waste of time, but he made sure to attend them like a dutiful son. 

 In this particular meeting, Ragnar discussed how he would be meeting with Ecbert of Saxon Industries in a week, an impromptu decision but Ecbert had insisted of its necessity. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes but kept his thoughts to himself. He knew by the way Floki clenched and unclenched his fist on Ivar's left that he felt the same way. A glance at his brothers showed the two latecomers were not the only skeptical ones. Ecbert and Ragnar had a mutual respect for one another but it did not stop them from betraying and trying to sabotage each other's businesses when it pleased them. Aella, who ran the Northern part of Saxon Industries, made no qualms about showing his disdain for Ragnar and his family, labeling them nothing more than "power-mongering, bloodthirsty heathens who allowed their animalistic tendencies to rule them". 

 To say there was bad blood between Ragnar and his sons with Aella was an understatement. 

 Years prior, Saxon Industries had been the leader in imports and exports in the United Kingdom and Ireland but all that changed once Ragnar set his gaze upon those shores. Now, Ragnarssons Trading was the powerhouse of the United Kingdom, Scandinavia, and France, with that influence expanding even more as trade flourished around the Mediterranean.  

 Saxon Industries was forced to turn their ventures to North America, something that caused resentment from both Ecbert and Aella, even if Aella was the only one vocal about it. 

 Ivar personally thought they should just wipe out the competition, utterly destroy Saxon Industries until it held no hope of recovery. It would also send the perfect message to any who tried to compete against them in the future. 

 At the conclusion of the meeting, Ivar rose from his seat, still moving slower than normal. He could feel the tenderness in his muscles and bones. A silent threat to his body. The concerned looks from those around did not help. It only happened every few months now, but he still hated the pitying looks. 

 "Ivar, I need to speak with you." Ragnar announced, momentarily breaking off his conversation with Torstein and Sigurd at the head of the table. Ivar nodded his understanding. With a muted groan, he sat back down in the plush chair and pulled out his phone.

 "Want me to wait for you?" Hvitserk asked, coming to his side. 

 "Nah, go ahead. I'll see you at home."

 Hvitserk gently clapped him on the shoulder then leaned down to whisper smugly. "Tell Kari hello from me."

 "Fuck off!" Ivar said, making his elder brother laugh as he walked out. 

 Speaking of, Ivar opened his phone to view the response from Kari to his previous message.

 Kari: unbelievable. 

 For a second, he considered replying but closed out of the text. At this late hour, she would already be asleep due to how early she regularly woke up. Instead he decided to wait until the morning to reply. 

 Soon enough, everyone trickled out of the meeting room leaving him alone with his father. Once it was just the two of them, Ivar watched as the confident, composed expression typical on his father's face slid away to reveal something more haggard. He straightened in his chair when his father walked across the room and pointedly closed and locked the doors before taking the seat next to him. 

 Ragnar rubbed a hand down his face, gazing out the open window before them. A sudden falling star streaked across the sky, momentarily distracting Ivar from his impatience, which thudded in his chest like a drum, growing louder and louder each moment his father kept them locked in silence. 

 "What I'm going to tell you does not leave this room. If you have any questions, you come to me directly. Understood?"

 Turning his head to eye his father with intrigue, Ivar nodded. "Understood."

 Only after that did Ragnar shift to meet Ivar's intense blue eyes with his own. "Our security system caught an email being sent out which contained an itemized list of some shipments we will be sending next month to our friends in Finland."

 Ivar's eyebrows rose. About ninety percent of Ragnarssons Trading was legal, something his father was very proud of considering how the company started. That hidden ten percent, it allowed them to stay connected to the black market and underground trading, to know things before they happened. Most recently they had made contact with a new buyer from Finland who had an affinity for certain illegal weapons. 

 Ragnar leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his mouth before continuing as if it pained him to utter the words. "It seems the damn email was supposed to be encrypted but somehow never fully transitioned, leaving half of it legible. We know it was sent from this building."

 "Do you know who the recipient was?"

 "The Russian mafia in Thailand."

 Ivar sharply inhaled, his mind furiously working on the implications, plus what their next steps should be. "What do you want me to do?"

 "I want you to find out who the fuck is selling us out. By any means necessary….and I want to burn them alive."

 A sinister grin grew on Ivar's face, matching the one on his father's. 

 "Consider it done."

 "Good." Ragnar absent-mindedly tapped the table with his fist. "This is your main priority but completely confidential, not even a word to your brothers."

 "You think it's one of them?"

 "No, but we don't know who is close to them that it might be." Ragnar reassured.

 Ivar rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought, eyes drifting to the window. "I'll trace from my office. If the need arises, I'll go to Norway with Mother."

 "Good. You've never failed me. I know you won't in this."

 Ivar's heart swelled at the praise, something he rarely received from his ambitious and frequently absent father, especially during his childhood. 

 After a long moment, Ragnar reclined back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "Your eyes are blue."

 "They are always blue, courtesy of your genetics." Ivar retorted harshly, already knowing where this was going. 

 "You know what I mean, Ivar." His father flatly stated. "If you break something, your mother will be breathing down both of our necks."

 "I'm not a fucking child, I can take care of myself."

 Ragnar hummed, seeming amused by his son's antagonized state. "Don't come into the office tomorrow."

 "I'll do whatever the fuck I want to."

 "Start whatever you want, but for gods' sake, stay in bed where you can rest. If I get a call that you're in the damn hospital with a broken bone, I'll break something else on you." He threatened, pointing a finger at his son.

 Ivar sneered, "Mother will skin you alive."

 Ragnar chuckled darkly, leaning back once again. "No, her style would be to sabotage me somehow. Now get out of here. Your brothers planned on going out for drinks tonight, are you going to join them?"

 He opened his mouth to answer when an impulsive idea latched itself in his mind. "No…." He answered slowly, a wicked smirk curled on his lips. "I think I'm going to bed."

 "Alright."

 Ivar rose, leaning on his cane. After taking a few steps away, he turned back to see his father watching him curiously. "Doesn't mean it's going to be my bed."

 With that, he walked out of the meeting room to the sound of Ragnar laughing loudly behind him.  

 *****

 He closed the bedroom door silently behind him, pleased with how the house remained quiet as he moved about. It was nearing two in the morning and the last thing he wanted was the police called with the neighbors thinking he was a burglar or something ridiculous. 

 Gently, he leaned his cane against the wall then proceeded to slip his shoes and shirt off. He dropped them on the floor, overly aware of any noise he made. Carefully, he maneuvered to the side of the bed, feeling very much like a thief in the night though he ignored it, and eased his legs out of his braces, setting them on the ground. Next, he slid under the rumpled covers, pleased when the bed's other occupant did not wake. His heart pounded in his chest though it did not deter his actions, if anything the forbidden feel spurred him on. Laying on his side, he placed his arm around her. Cautious of his body, he scooted closer to her until his chest was to her back. Before he could fully relax, she began to stir. 

 "Mmmm?"

 He tenderly placed a kiss on the back of her neck before murmuring. "Shhh, go to sleep."

 "Ivar?" Kari asked sleepily, her body tensing under his touch. 

 "Yes. Go back to sleep."

 At his words, she twisted in his arms to face him, his arm still over her waist comfortably. He could hear the sleep fading from her voice. "What? What are you doing here?"

 "Trying to sleep." He answered coolly, a flash of irritation shooting through him. Why was she questioning him? All he wanted to do right now was sleep with her in his arms. The increasing pain in his traitorous body made him want to lash out. To demand she shut up and let them sleep. He bit his tongue before the venom could erupt. Logically he knew his presence was unexpected and surprising at this hour, but he had hoped she would be more excited to see him. 

 "That…. what? How did you get into my house?" She demanded, trying to wriggle out of his hold but to no avail. 

 "I have a key."

 That easy statement made her freeze. "You have a key…." She slowly repeated. After a moment, she sighed, relaxing back into his embrace. "You know what, I'm too tired. We'll talk about that fact in the morning. Why are you here though?"

 Maybe it was the darkness surrounding them or the enticing sleepy voice of hers, either way he found himself answering honestly…. a bit too honestly. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he quietly confessed. "I missed you….and I don't want to be alone."

 They laid there for several seconds in a tense silence. Even though she did not pull away from him, he could practically feel her over-thinking. If she told him to leave right now, he wondered if his dark heart would splinter. Over the past month she had become so vitally important to him. When he first met her, his interest had been fueled by lust plus the mystery and innocent aura around her. He wanted her. Now though, it had moved beyond want. It was a need. As much as he needed air to breathe, his mind and body coveted her. She somehow slipped past his guarded heart to entangle herself in his very core. Her presence soothed the violence that controlled his mind, she gentled his rage. She cared about him, not because of who or what he was, like everyone else. No, she cared about him as his own person, as simply Ivar. 

 Finally, she spoke in a resigned whisper. "Fine. Go to sleep, Ivar."

 "I was trying to but someone kept asking me questions." He quipped, in hopes to hide the joy and relief in his voice. 

 She grumbled, then turned over and tried to move away from him but he was not going to have that. Not now. Not where he wanted her to be after so long. Where she deserved to be. With the arm around her waist, he pulled himself against her until they were spooning. At first, she attempted to fight him, squirming away, but after a few moments she surrendered. A barely suppressed chuckle escaped him, as he tightened his hold on her. She felt so perfect in his arms, like the gods created her to fit flawlessly against him, two puzzle pieces that finally found their match. He pressed his face into her hair, nuzzling into her. His elation only increased when her fingers intertwined with his that were splayed just under her breasts. A fond smile danced on his lips at her acceptance. 

 Within moments, he felt her go limp against him, sleep consuming her one again. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, pleased when he thought he heard a content hum come from her at the action.

 Knowing his kitten, there would be hell to pay come morning, but for now, he needed this. Her body against his, to feel her heartbeat, to know she was safe. It was something that was no longer optional. He felt a man possessed, bewitched. Everything about her cast him under her spell- her beauty, her friendship, her tenderness towards him, the silly ways she made him laugh, and how she stood up for him. She was his. His responsibility. His devotion. His peace. His kitten. His alone. 

 "God natt, min skatt." He whispered against her skin. (Good night, my treasure)

 It did not take long for him to follow her into sleep, more at peace in this moment than he had been for in years.

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 7: Tipping Point

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

You train with Kung Lao. This might be the final straw.

A/N: Next chapter is from Liu Kang's point of view. Also there will be a hilarious shopping chapter with Kung Lao and Chen at a reader's request. Hope everyone is doing well <3 Don't worry, there will be more fluff soon too.

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The rain had dried up while you were eating and conversation had quickly become less awkward. You had managed to separate what had happened with Liu Kang from your friendship with Kung Lao mentally. You cared about them so much. Somewhere along the line you’d decided that your friendship with them was the most important thing to have. No matter who you chose, you wanted to maintain those friendships.

Though you were pretty sure of what your heart wanted at this point. You’d been sure of it for some time. Since that night in the rain when Liu had wrapped his arms around you, as a matter of fact. It had felt like home. Nothing had ever felt like that before. You knew that no matter what happened next, things would be okay between you.

You also knew that what was happening to you was extraordinarily complicated and dangerous. That was your biggest hang up through all of this. When it came down to it, that was the true dilemma. Because whatever happened with Kung Lao and Liu Kang? That was something you could fix, something you could work on. You were all just people making human decisions. This thing with your arcana, however? That was beyond your control.

You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. You would gladly lock yourself away if it meant keeping everyone safe.

Things between you and Lao relaxed once you’d mentally coached yourself on the reality of the situation. You felt sobered by your own thoughts. It was something that you attributed to Liu Kang. Perhaps it was because of how frequently he’d helped you find your calm or maybe it was just that his calming presence had rubbed off on you.

This would pass.

All things did.

Kung Lao had agreed, with very little convincing, to go with you tomorrow to the nearest city to get your ‘lady things’. He’d hated you using that term which was precisely why you’d used it. It would keep him from asking questions. He’d asked you about lady problems the other day with disdain so you figured it would be the best excuse. Then after breakfast you made your way to the fight pit.

“We’ll start with your shoulder. But afterwards we’re working on your arcana.”

“Why? Because the shoulder thing is boring?”

“Yes, obviously.” Kung Lao teased. He seemed relieved that you had shaken your weird mood. You were relieved too. That brief moment of panic had threatened to send you into a spiral. But it had passed and you were rather proud of yourself for it. “And because you’ve been avoiding it.”

“I know, I know. I psyched myself out for a bit there. No more avoiding it. I promise.” You’d changed into a gi to prepare for training. You would do your best to try and keep from overdoing it but if Kung Lao could help you get a hold of your arcana than it would be worth the strain. He was watching you skeptically as he kicked up sand in the fight pit. “I mean it. I want to get back to where I was before this. At least. I want to be able to give you and Liu a run for your money again.”

“It’s nice to hear you sounding more like yourself.” Kung Lao turned away from you but you could see the smile on his face before he did. It was like he wanted to hide it. Why? It didn’t much matter.

After that you spent some time working on your shoulder. He really did have a few exercises to help stretch the muscles and strengthen them. It’d hurt but it had been worth it. He also taught you a few strategies to avoid putting strain on it in combat when you needed to. It was nice that your styles of Kung Fu weren’t too terribly different. Kung Lao understood which stances would put strain where and you picked up the modifications easily. For the first time in a long time you felt competent and strong.

Even with your shoulder the way that it was after the incident with Raiden you had managed to find your footing. And you understood your limits. You moved with confidence. Kung Lao went easy on you after that even if he denied it when you confronted him for doing it. You imagined that it had been traumatizing for him to watch his childhood friend struggle for weeks on end. you considered that you both needed therapy.

“Now your arcana.” He dusted his hands off and then wiped them on his pants. With that familiar tug of the strap beneath his chin, he removed his hat and sliced with it through the air before crouching low and back into his stance.

“Was that necessary or… were you just showing off?”

“I’m going to show you how I use mine.” He flipped the hat in his grasp and then slipped it back on his head with a polite bow afterward.

“So, showing off. Got it.” You muttered but caught the smirk on his face.

“Arcana has an energy all its own. With time you learn to recognize it.” Kung Lao tossed the hat into the air and it spun around the perimeter of the arena, twisting through the air. He didn’t so much as look at it, it just did as he commanded it to. Kung Lao walked toward you and without looking, he reached out and the hat flew into his hand. He placed it again atop his head. “It’s a part of you. You have to treat it like it is. Another limb if you will.”

“I’m fairly confident that you’re just showing off.” You smiled. He chuckled beneath his breath then tossed his hat again. It flew behind you and with a twist, he disappeared into the ground in a white light and then reappeared behind you, hat landing perfectly atop his head. Then, arms folded behind his back, he leaned over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Now I’m showing off.” He clicked his tongue and then walked in front of you. “But I’m also making a point. I’ve been using my arcana far longer than you have. To me it’s second nature. We need it to be that way for you too. Sometimes that means getting in control of part of you that seems beyond it.”

“…kind of like when learning martial arts.”

“Exactly. Learning how to use parts of you as a weapon or a shield. Your arcana is no different except that without the dragon marking, you wouldn’t have it.”

“It’s like those exercises you made me do early on, right? It’s about control.” You had understood that to an extent but putting it into terms you understood, like martial arts, had helped considerably. You hadn’t felt in control of much of anything for a long time. In fact, the last few times you’d even tried to use your arcana it was as though the control had been ripped away from you. If you could become more in tune with your arcana then maybe when whoever it was that was manipulating you with this curse nonsense showed up again, they wouldn’t be able to use you as easily.

“I don’t think the sorts of exercises that Liu used are going to be helpful for what you do. Your arcana is different. His was dangerous at first too, just in a different way. I think that most arcana, by nature, will be dangerous.” Kung Lao smiled fondly, as though the idea delighted him. “My hat was obviously dangerous too. It’s not like zapping around like I do is exactly safe. Or easy.”

“The implications of that are awful, Lao.”

“All I’m saying is that there’s a learning curve to everything. Even for warriors like me and Liu.”

“Is this your way of trying to make me feel better about my arcana? You know that you can just be encouraging. That works just fine.”

“What I’m trying to say is that this is difficult in the beginning for everyone. You get the hang of it, like anything else. Your circumstances are definitely abnormal Y/N, but not that much so. I know that the past few weeks have been difficult for you.”

“Kung Lao, you don’t need to reassure me. I’m okay. Really.”

“No, I do, Y/N.” Kung Lao frowned, brow furrowed with compassion, with worry. Who were you to argue with him? “I can be hard on you but only because I know what you’re capable of. But the truth is that we understand this isn’t easy for you. Even just having the mark and learning to control your arcana is a difficult task. But these circumstances have made it that much more complicated. You’re doing a wonderful job, Y/N. It’s why Liu and I are so understanding. We’ve been there before.”

“I appreciate that, Kung Lao, really…”

“Raiden understands too. I know he can come off as harsh but I don’t want you to think that he…”

“No, okay, stop.” You laughed and took a step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head apologetically. Serious Kung Lao made you uncomfortable. It was just such a rare thing. What had brought this on? You struggled to picture him having moments of self-reflection but you supposed that he must have. Not enough to tell you about the best that he’d made with Liu, but still. “Do you think that this has me upset? Unhappy?”

“Um… yes.”

“There are parts of it that I struggle with, of course. This curse thing sucks. The inability to get back on my feet sucks. Feeling like a ticking time bomb? Not in love with it. But overall? I’m grateful to be here.”

“Even after Raiden…” He mimicked the action of shocking you and you laughed, then patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“He did what was necessary. I’m not holding it against him. And I’m grateful to have come to Raiden’s Temple, Kung Lao. Yes, it was kind of traumatizing and is a little scary but also… I got my best friend back. I never thought in a million years there was even a chance of that. I know that things are different for us now but I’m also so grateful that it was you that found me that day. Grateful that it was you that came into my shop all those times. Whatever brought you back there, Lao, I’m just so damn grateful. And I’m grateful to have met Liu Kang. He’s a wonderful friend. I’m even grateful for the crazy gossipy monks down in the infirmary. And grateful for Raiden. He’s kind of fatherly, isn’t he? In a weird way?”

“He can be. And he seems fond of you. He isn’t usually so nice.” Kung Lao smirked but you could see the relief behind his eyes. Apparently, he’d been the one who had really needed reassuring. You were happy to provide it.

“Well, it’s hard to be mean to someone you almost killed.” You joked and Kung Lao laughed. “We got super off topic here. We need to focus.”

“Yes, that’s what we were talking about. Focus. And control.”

“We are terrible at this.”

“We need to decide what works for you.” Kung Lao took a step back. “Can you summon your arcana for me? Your sword, perhaps?”

“Sure.” You stepped back and focused. He was right. There was energy around you and it wasn’t the first time you’d felt it and recognized it as your arcana. It was about focus and control. You could do that. In fact, you had excelled at both of those things. Being a teacher, you’d needed to be focused and controlled. You could do this. Especially today.

You had plenty of focus and control.

Without so much as a wave of your hand, you summoned your jian in a swell of ink. It dripped down your hand and formed the hilt and then the blade. It didn’t drain you and you smiled. It felt natural to do, like the sword was an extension of you. You flipped the hilt in your palm and then back again. Then you dropped into your stance and used your other hand to beckon Kung Lao to come at you for a fight. But he didn’t. Instead he clapped in a slow and unimpressed way.

“Now do more.”

“Excuse you? You said to summon my sword. I did that.”

“I want you to try and recreate me again.” He looked rather excited about that and your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know how I did that, Kung Lao. I needed help and you weren’t there and I was worried that you’d been hurt too badly and then suddenly… ink you to the rescue.”

“I was your hero then, huh?”

“Don’t read into it, Lao.”

“You were worried about me too? Wow, a lot to unpack here, Y/N.” Kung Lao was trying not to look terribly smug and doing a terrible job at it.

“I mean, you are human, Kung Lao! Being thrown through a door and then a wall and then a door… that takes a toll on a man, I would imagine.”

“I’m still pretty bruised up, honestly.”

“I would imagine.”

“Well, I want you to try that again but without being in peril. You can’t rely on something like that in a panic. You need to be able to control it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I have a few ideas I can try. I don’t know if they’ll work but I’ll try.”

“When we’re finished, if you’re still worried about me then I’ll happily let you check me out.” He grinned and walked further away from you. You flushed but held your tongue. He was baiting you. Kung Lao enjoyed bickering with you. You knew that already and now wasn’t the time to give in. You were so terrible at staying on topic today. You had to focus! You were feeling so good about your strength and your arcana. You wanted to take advantage of that. Besides, flirting with Kung Lao was on a list of things that were difficult to deal with.

You focused on the ink, remembering how it had coated your fingertips in direr moments. You willed it to do just that and were pleased when it obeyed. It spread up to your shoulders. Your arms and fingers were stained black. Then you used your index finger to draw another sword and it materialized with your will. Slow, bored applause from Kung Lao again. It was like a pen. That was your true weapon, you’d decided. That gave you another idea.

What about words? Would words have power? You spelled the first thing that came to mind.

Fire.

Just like that, the word floated before you and then burst into flame. Kung Lao laughed, eyes wide with delight.

“What? No! Do it again.”

“Uh, okay…” You laughed and spelled ‘hat’, visualizing Kung Lao’s hat as you did. It materialized and clattered to the ground. Kung Lao made his way back to you and picked up the hat. It stained his fingertips, but he was able to toss it. It splattered against the wall but the ink didn’t stain the stone. Instead it decayed into a frail gray substance, like ash, before disappearing on the wind.

“You could create anything with that.” Kung Lao seemed to mentally be rattling through the possibilities. You were sure that it had limitations. Even as you considered what to make next, you could feel that it had drained you. Maybe that was your limitation. The ink would exhaust you before you created anything too catastrophic. That was a fair trade off. You could find a way to manage the weariness that went with your arcana.

He wanted to see that drawing of him again.

So you wrote his name and you could feel the excitement radiating off of him.

Kung Lao.

He stepped into his stance, face blocked out by his hat and ready for a fight. You focused your energy into his name and then the words spread out into a dome and created his hat. From the hat came the image of Kung Lao in a great leap. You gasped and covered your mouth. The ink was shaky so you focused harder.

The drawing of Kung Lao ducked into the same stance as Kung Lao. Then you had the drawing rush at him and feint left before attacking. Kung Lao blocked the attack and you maneuvered the ink duplicate, trying to remember the way that your father fought, the way that you knew Kung Lao fought. But the ink duplicate moved on instinct. You didn’t have to control it like it had strings. It had your knowledge of him.

That was until it stopped attacking Kung Lao and turned toward you. You willed it to turn back around but it didn’t obey you. What the hell? It approached you aggressively, using its hat as a blade with a spin.

“Whoa, hey, what gives, Y/N?” Kung Lao walked around the image of himself but then ducked out of the way as it sliced toward him. “Hey! Cut it out!”

“I’m not doing it!” You stepped back nervously as the drawing continued toward you. You stumbled in the sand and sunk your feet to get your balance but instead, you dropped through the ground into darkness.

You knew that hadn’t really happened. This was a feeling you recognized now.

You were having a vision.

Well, this was terrible timing.

You stood in a frozen wasteland. Everything around you was coated in a thick layer of ice. It looked like it had been a warehouse once. But then you caught sight of training equipment. A gym. You’d seen big gyms like this in the city but you had no idea where it was. Everything was so coated in ice that you couldn’t make out any of the signs. You were freezing.

In the distance, there was the sound of combat but it was muted, like you had cotton in your ears. You tried to get closer to the sound but had no real control over anything. Whatever this vision wanted to show you, it would show you whether you liked it or not. It was like you were on rails. It was cruel. To have felt like you had regained so much control only to have it stripped away from you. It was like something was playing an awful game with you where you always lost.

You refused to let it crush you.

Whatever your ink was doing outside of your vision you had faith that Kung Lao could handle it.

Two men fought, both masked and unnatural. This was beyond your understanding. One man was made of fire and the other was made of ice, holding a blade of the same ice. They were armored. They fought so quickly that you could barely make out what they were doing. Their movements were blurred in streams of ink. The fiery warrior sliced with a blade but the man made of ice blocked every blow. He then twisted the fiery man and threw him into a wall of ice that shattered. You ducked out of fear of the ice but again, you had no body, really. You weren’t actually there.

Their fluid fighting was a terrifying dance. They were both so threatening. These two men, whoever they were, were the most skilled martial artists that you had ever seen. There was a crashing sound behind you but when you turned to find the source, the world melted into a haze. You didn’t know what anything meant anymore. Sometimes the visions were so vague and blurry that they were barely visions at all. Maybe that thing in your head didn’t want you to see this particular vision.

When you opened your eyes again, you were staring into darkness. You could move again and you were awake but where were you? It was so damn dark. There was sand beneath where you laid. You were still in the fight pit! Distantly, you could hear Kung Lao fighting but there was a spinning wall of darkness between you and him. What the hell?

There was a vortex of ink swirling all around you, thick and slow moving. It muted all other sounds with a roar. Your heart was pounding out of your chest but you focused like Kung Lao had taught you. But no matter how you focused, the ink didn’t budge. You had no control over any of it even if you could feel that it was your arcana. It drained you just existing.

You touched the vortex in hopes that you could run through it to the other side but it sliced at your fingertips as though the vortex was made of ink needles. Was it protecting you? And if so, from what?

“Kung Lao!” You shouted but you couldn’t hear anything but the muted chaos of combat beyond. What had you done? What had you summoned? “Kung Lao!” You screamed to him but there was nothing. He probably couldn’t hear you.

Okay. Deep breaths.

You focused on your arcana. It spread up your hands and over your arms. You would draw a way out if you had to! As you made to draw a door, the ink was swept away from your arms and the tornado consumed it and roared threateningly, as if you had fed it. Maybe it wasn’t protecting you. Maybe it was imprisoning you. Your heart was slamming with panic in your chest. This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t! You had to get this under control.

But you were panicking.

Maybe you were better off without the mark. Maybe you should be locked away so you couldn’t put anyone else in danger!

Then there was a horrible, loud ringing in your head.

You held your hands over your ears to try and escape it but it was in your head so there was no escape. It was so loud that it was making you feel sick. Your legs wobbled so you shrunk down into a crouch and tried to breathe through the painful sound. It reminded you of the dolorous ringing of the bell. The bell that had cracked along with your shoulder. That was it. It was the bell. Your shoulder was aching so much so that you could have collapsed. But you refused to fall.

This wouldn’t take you again.

It wouldn’t hurt you again!

“Who are you?” You yelled in frustration. Because that was what was happening. There was someone else there, something else there, that horrible demonic thing was destroying you, using you. “Who is doing this? Face me, coward!” You taunted in hopes of drawing it out. You didn’t think it would work but the ringing stopped. You managed to stand up but your legs were trembling beneath you. “Who’s doing this?” You shouted again but suddenly you weren’t alone. You expected the demon to walk right out of the ink.

But it wasn’t the demon.

Instead the icy warrior from your vision stepped out of the ink of the vortex, made of the same ink that formed it. He was dripping with it but you could see the details of his outfit his armor, his mask imprinted in the ink. The air became frigid within the vortex. You knew now that he had been the one that had coated that whole gym in ice. How powerful was he that he could do that? And who was he?

Panic shot through you but you stepped back, careful not to back into the vortex. How? How did whoever was manipulating you have such a hold on you? What kind of curse could do this? Who had this kind of power? It was too dangerous for you to have arcana. Too dangerous for you to be in Raiden’s Temple. Too dangerous for you to have the mark. You were dangerous.

You summoned your sword. The vortex tried to consume the ink, as if hungry, but you refused to allow it. It took nearly all your strength and the aching in your shoulder spread into your chest but you refused to give in. You yelled in frustration and charged at the man who stood threateningly before you. He summoned a blade of shadow and ice and stabbed toward you with a graceful twist. You blocked but barely. His icy blade left shards of ice on your sword and it spread toward your hand. You tried to shake it off but the jian shattered and you let go of the hilt. The vortex devoured the remains of your sword.

You summoned another but the panic was making you shake.

You had to stop it. Something had to stop it.

If you had to then you would do something drastic. You wouldn’t let your arcana destroy everything.

[soulmate-game]

Okay, I’m not sure if what I was trying to say in my last post was said very well.

I completely understand the tagging situation from the First Wave with the DC fans. That’s discourse that is mostly solved and we can’t do anything about those who are forever gonna be bitter or lazy. I’m not talking about that stuff.

The stuff I want to prevent/limit is the hate that comes after our fandom deliberately. And yes, I know I can’t stop it. None of us can stop bitter, antagonistic people from being bitter and antagonistic. None of us can stop people who just want to be angry.

I’m not talking about stopping them, though.

I’m talking about what we can do to protect ourselves as creators and consumers in this fandom. As people who love and appreciate what the creations and people in this fandom have to offer. In simplistic form, I’m saying we need to learn how to shield ourselves from bullies. And there are methods we can use to make ourselves less of a target to the people who go after us, and methods to cut their attacks off short. None of these methods are fool-proof, but they will work to filter out a good majority of the shit we would otherwise be showered by, like a big umbrella against Assholery. Sure, the wind might still blow some in our face and we might splash in a puddle or two by accident, but at least we aren’t soaked.

So let me list the various things that can help you shield yourself from hate/harassment/antis who might just be out to get you.

1) leave the fandom.

The most effective, but least attractive method possible. This is limited to being a last ditch effort, if things have just gotten too hard to handle. I’m covering it first though, because we have to acknowledge that it is a viable method. If you feel trapped, hated, bullied, I’m sure all of us in this fandom would prefer you take a break and leave us for a while in the sake of your own health and safety then stay where you are miserable. This is less of a problem for us though, because mostly this option is gonna be for fandoms where the discourse and attacks are internal. Maribat is largely a peaceful and supportive/healthy environment once you’re inside our little bubble, the main discourse comes from outside in. So let’s focus on the main point of this post— how to keep our bubble from popping.

2) Make it apparent right away that you are Unapologetic.

Whenever you post content or are approached by someone about the topic of your fandom, don’t you DARE ever apologize for liking what you like or posting unproblematic content. You need to make it clear right off the bat that you are not gonna be swayed, bullied, or shamed out of your fandom. Stand with pride and make it clear, but don’t be verbose about it. A simple “Don’t like, don’t read” is classic but sometimes if you’re posting/talking during a more confrontational period of the fandom, you need to up your game to reflect that. The funny thing is, people can easily be intimidated by swearing if it isn’t directed at them or clearly antagonistic. If you’re swearing in a joking, casual or even in a manner that shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously, people will usually avoid picking fights with you. For this, my favorite lines to use on my work include;

“Don’t like, I don’t fucking care. I fell down the rabbit hole.”

“Don’t bother reading if you’re not into this, this shit bitch-slapped me and dragged me along on it’s adventure.”

“I’m addicted to this fandom, don’t bother trying to save me. If it bothers you, I don’t give a fuck. Save yourselves.”

3) Don’t approach or interact

Unless someone comes at you first, never try to persuade someone away from hating us. That just makes you a target in an empty field, for the vultures to surround and gang up on. If someone approaches you with provocative but not overly insulting or intelligent language— I.e; trying to start a fight, vague insults not always relating to the fandom itself, trying to insult your character/judgement— do not respond. Delete the message, block the account, and surround yourself with fluffy good stuff to forget the wanna-be harasser. These people are often not brave enough to outright start a fight, and want you to get defensive first so they know the weak points in your armor to exploit. Defensive statements declare your own insecurities, don’t get defensive. It gives them a way to win without having to defend themselves or feel vulnerable— it’s like exploiting type differences in Pokémon. You wait for an unfamiliar Pokémon to expose it’s type, then snipe it with the moves it’s weak to. Then, you have a near sure-fire win even with under leveled Pokémon on your team.

Don’t be a proud Infernape that gets sniped by a weak-ass level 5 Piplup. We’re strong, don’t show them the chinks in our armor.

4) Have a support network. Even if they don’t know they are your support network.

The fandom as a whole serves this purpose, and this is mostly gonna be a tactic you use when the discourse is inside the fandom, but there can be uses for this in discourse from outside the fandom as well. If someone tries to act like they like your story/art “but...” they passive aggressively state things they “would prefer” or they try to make it sound like you made stupid mistakes (a tactic to make you insecure about yourself) instead of kindly pointing out errors or offering constructive criticism (ex: “you know you put your trigger list somewhere where it’s useless right? Love your story though.)—THESE ARE ALL PROVOCATIONS. They are trying to make you insecure so that you change things about yourself, your work, or jump through hoops to try to “make it up” to them when you did nothing wrong and there are no problems to fix. Do not fall for it! Instead, politely as possible, bring the issue into a public space where you feel safe/trust the people in that space to keep the bullshit from escalating. For me, I straight up explain my reasoning for the placement of my trigger list as if I’m advertising a particularly boring but important product that I’m selling, then offer places for them to bring the issue into a discussion with others. I send them to a discoed group or right here to my tumblr, and I immediately make the issue into a big discussion (do YOU think there is anything to change? Let’s ALL talk about it) so that I am no longer isolated and easy for them to harass. They might refuse to join the discussion and further try to pressure you, but do not cave. Merely say that a public discussion has been started, and if they are actually, legitimately concerned about the way you do things then they can debate it in a public setting. This way, you have back up. 9/10 people who try to target you this way will back off and never enter the conversation you started.

5) Do not fight back.

This sounds counterintuitive, but a lot of the time once discourse gets this bad, arguing/defending/ trying to prove your point only fuels their rage more. I have found that people hate very little in this world more than they hate being wrong. And people who hate being wrong will fight to the bitter death about their opinions, no matter how invalid or hurtful they are, in the favor of their blissful ignorance. Remove yourself from harmful discussions or those that seem to be going in circles as soon as possible, and try to surround yourself in your support group. Never let people make you feel stupid, your opinions illegitimate, or your likes/dislikes invalid or evil.

6) Try to learn how to recognize bullies in disguise

It’s too much for me to try to cover here, but you need to PLEASE look into how to spot gaslighting. Tactics of gaslighting are often used to attack others and try to make them feel like their own opinions are invalid or their mindset untrustworthy. People will often approach you in the guise of friendship/support/ “I am not into this, but...” and while this is not always a red flag, we have to keep our eyes open for any signs of this person or their approach being rooted in anything other than legitimate curiosity or kindness. Not all suggestions that say they are out of concern actually ARE. Keep an eye out for warning signs, and cut off interaction once things seem like they may lead to an argument or you being in a vulnerable position if you continue interacting.

(Brief mention of s**cide and threats in the section below)

7) If all else fails, BLOCK THEM.

No hesitation, we don’t need this shit. They make a second account? Block that too. Don’t respond, only take screenshots or reblog if it is directly harmful information that can/should be documented (words that encourage suicide, threats, insults that seem a little too specific for comfort) and give the evidence to someone you trust to look out for you. A therapist, a family member, or even the authorities if you deem that necessary. Just don’t handle it alone.

We are not responsible for other people’s actions, opinions, or anger. Take the steps to protect yourself instead of trying to reconcile. Sometimes, reconciliation isn’t an option. Both parties have to be willing to reconcile, and it is clear they have nothing in mind but hurting us. So raise your shields and protect yourself and your friends, we’re not gonna lose a war to petty jerks.

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Analysis of the Devil Ending: Who Died and Left Aristotle In Charge of Ethics? (Pt 5)

Hello and welcome back to me over-analyzing everything in Cyberpunk. If you haven’t read my other posts, please read those first! (V’s Mikoshi Poem, Johnny’s Mikoshi Poem, The Sun, New Dawn Fades).

This part took me a lot longer to complete. Not because it was particularly long…it was just painful. Jesus Christ. I hated every second of this ending. That shit hurted.

There were a few shards located at Arasaka’s estate that I chose to skip, as I did not find ant that were unique to the location. The three the game seemed to want to draw your attention to were actually not scattered as shards, they were spoken-word. The only shard I was able to find was a portion of The Odyssey. The other two pieces of literature are In Kyoto, which is quoted to V by the guard to takes her to the hospital room, and (what I believe to be) a reference to Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave. This section is going to be super theoretical. Like, more theoretical than the rest. So bare with me please.

Let’s start easy. This is the poem that the guard quotes at V as he leads her out of the operating room:

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto

(By: Basho, translated by Jane Hirshfield)

Ten words. What could ten words amount to? The saddest goddamn words you’ll ever hear, dammit.  This poem is a feeling more than a concept. Ever feel homesick when you haven’t gone anywhere? Lonely when you’re around other people? That’s V. This was supposed to be a victory, supposed to be what they wanted. But now Johnny’s gone, scorned and betrayed, and no one they calls seems to even be able to give V the time of day. This was supposed to be a victory, their way of going back to the way things were, getting their life back, going home. But we can never go back, can’t ever erase our experiences, what we learn, how we grow. As Misty says, we should not fear change in of itself, but who we might change into. This just goes to show what happens when we betray ourselves by rejecting our own growth: all that’s left is bitterness and sorrow.

The next day when V wakes, you can pick up a shard containing a section from Chapter 8 of The Odyssey. Now, I’m not too familiar with the Odyssey. In fact, I hate the Odyssey. So if anyone wants to jump in here and add something more intelligent, I’m all for it. The Odyssey is the tale of Odysseus, who has been trying for ten long years to return to his wife and son after the Trojan war. Odysseus is basically listening to a bard remind him of all his Trojan War trauma, and begins to weep, at which time time people start questioning what’s up with this guy:

Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,

Imposed by parents in the natal hour?

(For from the natal hour distinctive names,

One common right, the great and lowly claims:)

Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,

And what inhabitants those regions boast?

So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd.

In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;

No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;

Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,

Conscious of every coast and every bay,

That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;

Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,

Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;

Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,

The seas may roll, the tempests may rage in vain,

E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,

Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,

With fury burns; while careless they convey

Promiscuous every guest to every bay,

These ears have heard my royal sire disclouse

A dreadful story, big with future woes;

How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,

Firm rooted in a surge a ship would stand

A monument of wrath; how mound on mound

Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.

But this the gods may frustrate or fulfill,

As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.

But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd

What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;

Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,

Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?

Say why the fate o Troy awaked thy cares,

Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?

Reading this made me feel just how tired V must be. All this fighting, all this war, and for what? Much like Odysseus, V has been through hell and back (literally, depending on how you see it). And it never seems to end. V has been fighting for so long, yet there’s always something more; the tests the doctor gives her are endless, and they’re always being asked to do more, over and over again, with no results or end in sight. Odysseus is teetering on despair; nothing he does seems to do will ever be enough, just like V. The world will just take and take and take. It’s exactly what V’s poem asserts in Mikoshi; the world cannot be fixed, and resistance is futile. You can’t change how corporations rule the world, and as a protestor states on the TV in the hospital room, the rich have no boundaries or morals, and we are powerless to stop them from taking whatever they want. They can take not only our souls, but our bodies, devour them in order to prolong their own lives. Johnny would, of course, disagree. Even a slap in the face to The Man is better than submitting to a corpo-leash, even if that is the easier path. And in fact, he may be right, since it seems taking Hanako’s offer is the conformist path, and the only one that leads to Saburo coming back.

But Johnny isn’t there anymore to walk the rebel path at their side. No more guardian angel to whisper when they it most to never stop fighting.

There’s a lot more we could go into here with the Odyssey; comparing Arasaka to the story of Polyphemus and the cave, talking about themes of passion vs. commitment, yadayadayada. I hate the Odyssey so that can be someone else’s problem tbh.

The final piece is what the doctor asks V to read as one of their tests. Now, on surface-level, this is foreshadowing if V will choose to stay in their body, or be turned into an engram. It’s laughing at them, really, both pitying and mocking the fact that they believe they have a choice, since either way they’re once again at the mercy of the rich and powerful:

“And it was a sight to behold, he said, how a soul would choose its life; sometimes pitiable, sometimes laughable at times wonderful and strange. For in most cases, the souls made their choice according to the habits of a former life.”

I couldn’t find where this was from, or if it was a quote from anything. But googling it does bring up Plato’s Allegory of The Cave, which I thinks tracks pretty well. I found a quote from this chapter of Plato’s The Republic, which is strikingly similar in meaning. For the sake of my sanity, lets assume that this quote is referencing this one from Plato:

“And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the cave.”

If you’re unfamiliar with the allegory of the cave, it’s a philosophical discussion from Plato’s The Republic. It’s about how human perception is limited, and so true knowledge comes from the self via philosophical reasoning. Much like humans imprisoned in a cave with only shadows as their entire world, we cannot imagine the true world outside the cave until we leave to see it for ourselves.  Those who are freed from this limited reasoning have a duty to go back and free others, subjecting them to the full experience of awakening; both the pain and the triumph it entails. V starts out with a limited perception of things; a surface-level world, never stopping to see the bigger picture, until Johnny comes along and encourages them to question the status quo. In all other endings, V accepts this enlightenment. They challenge Arasaka, and try to follow Johnny’s legacy and Stick It To the Man. Yet if they accept Hanako’s offer in an attempt to return to “the habits of a former life,” they are rejecting this new understanding, refusing to leave the cave and live in ignorant bliss. This, I believe, is where Johnny’s true feeling of betrayal comes from: not because he’s being shredded, and not because he thinks V doesn’t know any better. V learned and changed just as much as he did, and this growth was something they were able to gift to one another. Johnny is proud of his change, proud to be someone trusted by V, proud at a second chance not to fuck things up. When V gives him control to go with Rogue to Arasaka, he’s ecstatic to prove himself worthy of that trust, to prove that he’s changed. Yet V, the person who aided in that change, is now actively ignoring and rejecting their own growth, and thus is betraying themselves. By not using their enlightenment to actively oppose the status quo and rebel, they are choosing the side of the oppressor by default.

Some of her last words if you choose not to sign the contract are to Goro, “You have no idea how good it feels to be free.” But the truth is, V is not free, and now they will never be free. By walking the path they have, they are choosing willful ignorance, stubbornly clinging to the darkness of the cave because it is easier to convince oneself that they are not a prisoner at all than it is to leave the comfort of one’s chains. Either way, they are caged, even if the bars the rich and powerful build around her are clear instead of solid. Her so-called freedom (and knowledge) is pure illusion — shadows depicted on a cave wall.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Keep me

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Steve x Reader  Warning: kidnapping, obsession, mind manipulation.  Words: 1457.  hold me up into the light  fix the cracks and fix them right    P.S. In this one the reader has mind manipulation abilities that she uses to treat emotionally unstable people, but nothing goes easy with Steve Rogers, the man who had kidnapped you from Stark Tower. _____________________________________ 

He was always agitated before your sessions, pacing up and down like a caged tiger. His frustration didn't manifest itself on his stony face, but you knew Steve Rogers inside out. He was afraid it would not work, and in the end his demons would conquer and cage him once you would be gone.  It was hard to imagine, though, as Steve had abducted you from Stark Tower and never left you alone ever since. Well, visits to the bathroom didn’t count. You had already been on the run for four months and Steve hardly planned to stop now when he finally learnt how to sleep. It was all thanks to your sessions, of course.   “I’m almost ready.” You whispered to him and motioned to come closer. “Lay down, please.”  He marched back to you, his heavy steps echoing through the emptiness of the storage room. Your new hideout was in an abandoned factory somewhere in Indiana. 

Steve placed himself on top of an old stinky mattress and laid down, his head on your lap, dark blue eyes boring into yours. You gently brushed his disheveled hair out of his face and gave him a half-smile: you were tired. It weren’t just the sessions, it was your constant moving from one place to another - no comfort offered to you as Steve kept driving for hours, sometimes even a day or more, in whatever car he could find. For a few times it was a motorcycle, and nothing felt worse than riding it from sunrise to sunset. It hurt you to even think about it now. A bed had also become a luxury for you since you rarely stayed in apartments or motels. To think of it, today you were rather lucky Steve had found a mattress. Regardless of its smell, it was much softer than the cold concrete floor of the factory. You dreamt of the times when it would be over. If it were ever to happen, it would be after you could heal Steve and get all Hydra’s stuff out of his head. It was a real challenge regardless of your abilities and a long experience of treating people like him, but you still had hope.  “Good. Yes, like that.” You murmured softly and closed your eyes, the warmth slowly enveloping you into an invisible cocoon.  It was a pity you could not use your own power for yourself, yet you were grateful you still experienced its effects partly when you treated someone else. Even if you didn’t need help as much as Steve, you were still a human being.  Usually you would say something like “close your eyes and imagine an ocean”, but it didn’t work well with Steve. He was something else. No war vet you had ever treated reacted like he did. No wonder it took you so much time and efforts to do the simplest things like making him sleep without nightmares. The progress was awfully slow.  “Listen to my voice, Steve.” You started humming a melody, listening his steady breath. “That’s right. You’re a good boy.”  You used the words his mother said when he was a child to trigger his memories. It was one of the few things that helped.  “Will you talk to me, Steve?”  “Yes.”  The first times he was saying “no” over and over again till your head hurt. You had gone a long way to make him open up, and yet you did not risk asking him too many questions even now. Each time it felt like pulling the trigger.  “How do you feel, Steve?”  “I am tired.”  Good. He was able to feel his body even before you left Stark Tower, but you were still glad there was no regress. Considering your constant moving and hiding, it could possibly affect his mental state.  “What have you been thinking about today, Steve?”  His eyes were open, pupils dilated. Normally your patients were relaxed, half asleep even, but not Steve. He had never been.  “We’ll be moving to Michigan. I need to buy food. I need to find the next safe house. I need 9×19mm Parabellum. I need to bring you new shoes. I need…” He kept talking in monotonous voice like someone under hypnosis. You listened intently with the corners of your mouth turning up at the mention of your shoes. You left New York in your simple black sandals that almost got torn apart after fours months of constant moving.   “… gas. I am afraid you’ll throw me away.”  “Stop.”  Steve froze, his mouth half open. You blinked a few times, confused and perplexed. What? Throw him away? What was that supposed to mean? You felt an urge to ask him instantly, but you were on shaky ground. Steve rarely spoke about his fears because the Soldier didn’t like it. It was a constant battle you were in since the day Steve Rogers came into your cabinet, and you were fighting still. It would be a great progress if the Soldier wouldn’t show up now, preventing the man to speak.  “Why would I throw you away, Steve?” You asked cautiously and gently stroked his cheeks.  “Because I am defective.”  Oh God, it might take you more time you anticipated.  “Why are you defective, Steve?”  “Because I am not fully human.”   Something was happening. Something was happening and you didn’t like it. Steve started gasping for air and shaking lightly on your lap – you only saw it for a few times, and those times you dug too deep. He might not be prepared to continue.  You decided to end this session, but before you opened your mouth he was speaking again.  “I am broken beyond repair. You can’t help. You will throw me away once you figure it out.” His shoulders started to tremble stronger and stronger. “You will throw me away, and I will die. The Soldier will die too. We will die and won’t ever come back.”  Steve’s mouth was fully open as if he wanted to scream, but you heard nothing except loud panting and strangle gurgling sounds. Shit, you had never gone that far. It never escalated to this point, and you needed to do something before you would lose control over him, and God know what would happen.  Was he… was he crying?  “Keep me!” His loud shout left you deeply terrified. “KEEP ME!”  You tensed up and tried to keep your composure, closing the distance between your faces. It wasn’t that easy since you were forced to hold him down with you own hands, Steve shaking feverishly, beads of cold sweat on his forehead.  You bend so much your nose almost touched his own and then squeezed your eyes, concentrating all your warmth around Steve’s body to wrap him in it like a blanket. You needed to make him feel safe. His breakdown wouldn’t do him any good, but you were frightened of what could come after it and pushed your powers to the limits, whispering the words he could not understand to soothe him.  You didn’t know how much time you spent in a trance like this, breathing into Steve’s face and calming him down little by little. When you took a hold of your own movements you suddenly realized you were tenderly kissing his face.  Why? You didn’t remember planning to do that. Well, sometimes you would occasionally kiss your patient on the forehead in a mother-like way to charm them more and make them feel secure, but it was never like this. It felt… odd. Like it was Steve and his unconsciousness that made you do it.   “Fix me.” He said quietly, not shaking anymore, but you saw his eyes were still wet. “Please, fix me.”  “I’m keeping you.” You whispered to him and carefully wiped his tears with your fingertips. “I’m keeping you even if I won’t be able fix you. You’re safe with me. I won’t throw you away.”  Steve was breathing normally again, but you felt hazy. Something wasn’t right. The more strength he retrieved, the more drained and exhausted you were, your vision cloudy. Did you two synchronized so much he got inside you head? Was it Steve? Was it the Soldier? How could y…  He caught you when you almost fell on top of him, losing consciousness. He knew it was harder and harder for you each time, but you had never admitted it and instead claimed he was getting better. A part of him admired your willingness to help, a part of him hated you for lying to him because he knew he would never become his old self again.  But if you kept him, maybe he could live with it. If you kept him, he would be alright.

[bookwyrminspiration]

WAIT. I'm late to the party but I just remembered all those anons were sending in "why I send you asks" and their reasons and I actually really want to participate, so I hope you will accept late applications?

The reason I send you so many asks is because you've just...built such a nice feeling that anything can be discussed, and it's never too niche or cringy or boring, and that's really relieving and amazing.

I'm sure you (along with many others) have realized by now, but I suffer from....really bad anxiety, both social anxiety and just in general, and it very often gets in the way of my life. Because of this and past experiences, I'm always very scared and hesitant to talk about my interests and my thoughts on anything.

But every time I've sent you an ask, even if it was, in retrospect, probably really annoying to read through the one hundred "sorry"s and "my bad"s, you've always been nothing but kind and interested in my ideas, and that was just...so surprising. Because I never really knew anyone who was willing to talk about anything, and it was just...really amazing to meet someone who was! Especially because I love and am interested in so many different things and kind of need someone to bounce ideas at. And it was really cool to see someone that was unashamed of their own interests and thoughts, but didn't make others feel bad for having different ideas.

Every time I send you an ask, you always have something interesting to say back. Something I hadn't thought of or considered, or a query that would make me rethink my own theories, or just a very well-thought-out answer to a question. I remember sending in tons of asks about the wings AU before it was released, and writing those was probably the highlight of my day, because I knew you'd take them and run with the ideas, and do your best to match my energy, and I was really grateful for that. And you were always willing to dig deeper, to think "but what if there was more?" and that's just...incredible! I don't have any other word for it!

I love sending you asks because you don't dismiss an idea or deem it as stupid, and you're just...such a kind and wonderful person that can make even the most obscure subject infinitely more interesting than before, and you never fail to make me consider things again, to expand my thoughts and views, and I'm really grateful for that.

So, because it should definitely be said by now, thank you!

And, well, that's why I love sending you asks :]

- pyro

there is no timeline so there's no way to be late! and I'm answering this a few days after you sent this, so if you believe yourself to be late then we can both be late together :D. you are fully welcome to participate if you want to (which you said you did)! it was mostly just a random question I had because i'm just as analytical with myself as I am with keeper, and knowing how other perceive and think of me is helpful for that--and I was curious about how i'd aquired so many asks so quickly, and then you all just turned it into complimenting quil hours for some reason !! (but on to your ask before I get even more distracted)

(note from a quil who has answered all of this: got very long so that's why there's a readmore! i love you /p)

this means so much to me--specifically your use of "built" because I do try pretty hard to maintain a positive atmosphere and welcome everyone in and treat everyone with the same attention. it didn't just fall into place, i try to be encouraging to everyone and support all the amazing work--art, writing, ideas, etc--I see from people. (note: i've been wanting to do a thing where I ask for fic/art/other recommendations from others (can be friends or their own) so i can go through and reblog a bunch of them with comments and the like, I just want to get through more of my asks before I start something like that). But you're right--nothing is too niche! there's so many details in the story it's impossible for one person to notice anything, so people bringing up the obscure and their own thoughts makes the story richer and more fleshed out for everyone else! and i think it's really cool to just see what other people focus on (like I said, my analysis isn't limited to characters, but I'm not like dissecting you all to understand each of you in a creepy way or anything. I just like to get a better sense of someone so I can respond in a way more tailored to them when we interact)

anxiety can really suck, so as someone who also has anxiety i am giving you a comforting hug if you'd like one. it genuinely impacts everything you do and think about, rewriting how you experience life. a single, inconsequential experience to someone else can literally change major aspects of how we think, which makes interactions so scary sometimes. i remember things people said years ago and still base my actions around them, but those people have absolutely no recollection of ever saying it, but just the fear of having done something wrong once permanently altered my thinking. (this is not to make this about me, I'm just trying to show I understand by sharing an experience of my own).

reading through all your "i'm sorry"s and "my bad"s wasn't annoying and never will be. you have never had anything to apologize for, and I know that sometimes you feel you need to enter a conversation and first apologize for being there, but I'm thrilled to have you here and always love seeing you in my inbox. I don't know how to articulate this properly, but I'm going to try. i saw your apologies and your apprehension as...a puzzle? that's absolutely not the right word but I can't think of the right one so please let me explain (I don't mean to imply you're like something to be solved or a problem in any way. words can be difficult and I'm trying to describe something very intangible rn, so I hope this doesn't sound bad). I didn't see it as annoying (you're never annoying), I saw it like it was something to work through, and while it's not my job or anything to help other's with their personal problems, it was like if I could just provide one space where I could encourage you (not just you, but anyone) as a friend to try shifting your language and start thinking of yourself more positively, then I wanted to give that.

because I am interested in your ideas! and I want to be kind and welcoming to you! but I also want you to be kind to yourself, so any impact I've had to give anyone a safer, less scary space is really cool. I don't know if that made sense, but I'm not trying to talk down to you or anything or be like I'm this high and mighty figure harboring lost souls or something, just that connection is important and I like being there for people. kinda worried that sounded bad because it feels worded strange but I'm trying to reciprocate and say i appreciate you and am happy to talk about anything!

i love bouncing ideas back and forth and you are more than welcome to say anything and everything you're thinking about. talking to you is always an absolutely joy and I get so excited when you send me an ask and when you're reading my response, because it often feels like this like...buzz? like we're just vibing on this frequency and it makes it so much fun to throw ideas back and forth and just listen to each other talk. i am very glad to have surprised you and met you! I don't know a lot of people like myself either, so having someone like you interact with me and just go all out on these little things and what we personally like about different parts of the so much fun. a lot of the other people I know irl feel like they just scratch the surface, they say things just to get credit for it and to appear like they know what they're talking about while ignoring all these other things that have such an impact, so it's amazing to have found someone else who looks at everything and anything like I do. my brain really is "a little bit of everything all of the time" so knowing you have so many different interests too is really cool. i am giving you an internet high five and pretending you aren't so far away.

I spent so much of my life being quiet when I had so many thoughts, so now that I have this kind of outlet I just! want to say everything I can! i want to look at everything from every perspective possible! the world is a huge collection of things tied together and I love following the strings to find the connected pieces! but I think that's a way of approaching the world not a lot of people share (I could be wrong), so it's really cool to hear you think my thought process is interesting!! my brain is practically composed entirely of questions. any subject at any time of the day and nearly all of my thoughts are just wanting to know more and trying to understand things, so having that opportunity to ask further questions and just learn things (about what other's thing, how things work, etc) is so much fun. you might've seen me ask some questions of other's in a few of the asks I answer, but those barely scratch the surface of just how many I have. my handle is in_quil_sitive (inquisitve) on nearly every social media platform (except for this one) for a reason.

I remember some of your asks from before the wings au was published, too. those were absolutely incredible, and I got a rush of excitement every time I saw you sent another. those were the the highlight of my week, too!! your enthusiasm and excitement for something I hadn't even posted yet gave me so much motivation to continue and you helped me think through so many future ideas and consider things from new perspectives. i know i specifically wrote that you inspired one chapter in the notes, but you've had an impact on every single chapter of this story/ it wouldn't be what it is without you, and I mean that with complete sincerity. you were the one who made me think "what if there was more" so I could make this au even better and work towards something bigger. I just have so many thoughts about everything all of the time, I can't go more than a few minutes without being distracted by a different train of thought, but knowing there was someone who would want to hear all the weird, disjointed ideas i'd strung together and composed into a more cohesive format was so cool. there's just so much to think about!!

I probably sound repetitive at this point but I love answering your asks because you're so receptive to the way i say things and it's like you're actually listening and want to hear what I specifically have to say, not just the general ideas. you want to know my unique, personalized opinions and perspectives and don't just dismiss them when they're not what you expect to hear or aren't generic. you're incredibly kind, too, I hope you know. I love the description of how I can "make even the most obscure subject infinitely more interesting than before." that is such a meaningful compliment to me. I just keep thinking about this line over and over again and it just...it really means a lot. because you're saying it's me that interests you and not just what I talk about. I could talk about anything and you'd still want to interact with me and that's so fucking nice. I hope you know the same goes for you. we can challenge each other's thinking together and make things even deeper and more complex before together <33.

thank you for being here and being my friend, pyro. talking to you is always one of the highlights of my day and gives me a very positive feeling that I carry around for a while. I do this thing sometimes where I film myself to later observe my behaviors in the middle of intense emotions to understand myself better (back to that whole analysis thing again), but it's not just negative things, it's also when I'm really excited or pleased with something and jumping around and stimming and all that, and some of those are from when I interact with you. that might sound a little weird but I mean it positively, as in talking with you makes me ecstatic.

I have said. so many things. so I will stop (for now). but I really appreciate having you in my life <33

[thenamesseven]

Plot: Yeonjun was tired of not being able to do things normal couples could do with you so when he has the opportunity to sneak out and visit the Christmas market downtown, he doesn’t hesitate to do it and drag you with him.

Word count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None just fluff and a lot of cheesy stuff!

Pairing: Yeonjun x fem!reader

A/N: THIS IS FINALLY FINISHEEEED!! This oneshot was made for @key201303​ for a Christmas game I did with the network @kafenetwork​, thank you so much for letting me participate in this, I really had fun! ^^

Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile softly when he opened the door that guided into the hotel room he had been sharing with you since you arrived to the United States. Seeing you laying on the bed, hidden underneath a bunch of blankets and surrounded by all the pillows you had, the idol suddenly felt lucky, mentally asking himself how he had been able to conquist the heart of somebody as amazing as you were. 

It wasn’t easy to date somebody like him for you. The amount of attention he was getting the more famous he got was way out of your comfort zone, he had been afraid to approach you at first because of your shy and timid nature but he lowkey loved the way you fidgeted and blushed whenever the two of you talked. Nobody really had much hope in your relationship though, everyone thought you were too different, your lives were complete opposites and whoever knew you, doubted you would be able to stand the pressure you would have to deal with if your relationship went public.

However, against all odds, Yeonjun succeeded in asking you out months later after your first encounter and since that day, he had been trying his hardest to make you feel like the most special yet happiest girl in the universe. It wasn’t easy, things didn’t come out as well as he wanted every single time, sometimes his schedule got in the way, sometimes your studies did and sometimes it was simply his fame that got between the two of you but he always found a way to make you smile, there was not one day your boyfriend failed to make your heart flutter.

More than once, Yeonjun found himself thinking about it and it ended up making him feel guilty, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him, stating that your relationship was perfect the way it was, the ugly truth of him not being able to give you the things a normal boyfriend could give his girlfriend still roamed the back of his mind. For example, now that Christmas was getting closer, Yeonjun knew he wouldn’t be able to walk around town with you, holding hands as you searched for presents and made good memories together. He wouldn’t be able to run down the streets when it started snowing, dodging people to not bump into somebody, he just wouldn’t be able to visit the mall and hold your hand as you dragged him into store after store without a bunch of securities guards around you, making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

He wanted to give you that. Even if it was for one night. 

You deserved it.

“Yeonjunie?” His heart almost melted when you poked your head out of your blanket fortress to see him standing on the door, leaning against its frame as he watched you. The smile that curved his lips simply made you fall for him all over again. “What are you doing there?” You sat up on the bed, keeping the blankets around your body, patting the empty space beside you so he would join you there “How did the interview go?” 

This was your first time travelling with him, Yeonjun and you had been dating for almost two years and were already considering moving in together so it would be easier to spend more time with each other. You knew there would still be days when Yeonjun would have to stay till really late in the studio or you would have to spend most of the night up, locked in a room preparing for one of your exams but if living together meant you would be able to spend five more minutes with him every single day, then you wanted to do it.

Before his Christmas break, TXT had scheduled their early debut in America and Yeonjun, being the clingy boyfriend he was, had used every single bit of his time to  convince you -and his boss- to fly with the band to the new continent. You hadn’t hesitated to accept the offer though, hearing the company was alright with it was incredibly surprising and you knew this was a chance you simply couldn’t miss. All your exams were done already and classes had ended, besides sharing a room for the first time would kind of simulate how living together would be.

“Not going to lie, it was kind of awkward” He admitted with a boyish smile, sitting besides you onto the bed and crossing his legs. His eyes lazily dragged to the television placed in front of you as his head landed on your shoulder, getting comfortable besides you “Soobin and Taehyun did most of the talking” 

“Mhm? What about you?” You asked looking down at him curiously, bringing your hand up to poke his cheek, Yeonjun shrugged at your question, eyes still on the television where one of those cheesy christmas movies was being played. You had been watching these kind of movies for the entire evening but never got tired of it no matter how cliche or silly they were. You were a sucker for romance films. 

“My mind was somewhere else” He confessed looking down at you, smiling when your eyes met. Your cheeks turned slightly pink at his sudden confession, not having expected that at all. “I was thinking of you all bundled up in this bed, watching these boring movies by yourself and how much you must have missed me” His smile turned into a smirk and even though he was kind of right, you would never give him that satisfaction. Rolling your eyes, you pushed him back, making him lay down and away from you, stealing some chuckles from his lips.

“Oh yeah, I missed you so much” You scoffed, fighting hard to keep the urge of laughing back as you felt him moving behind you. His long legs spread to position your body in between them and his arms easily surrounded your figure, allowing him to give you a back hug. Yeonjun’s blue hair tickled your cheek as he rested his chin on your shoulder “What’s gotten into you today?” You asked, turning your body to look back at him.

“Just missed being like this with you, I’ve been working non-stop since we got here” He said looking at you, a small pout forming on his lips "And I was hoping we would do something together, something we can't do back in Korea"

You frowned, not really following where your boyfriend was leading the conversation to. The things the two of you could do were very limited thanks to his fame, not that it bothered you, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted going out with Yeonjun, so that’s why you didn’t understand what he was thinking of exactly.

“And what is that exactly?” You asked curiously, completely ignoring the television now to keep your eyes on his.

His boyish smile turned even brighter when you didn’t reject his advances, his excitement bubbling up “How about we go out?” He asked quietly, almost as if he was afraid that somebody would hear his intentions “I saw an arcade nearby on my way here, we could just go and play some games” He proposed, resting his cheek on your shoulder “But I also saw there is some kind of christmas market downtown, let’s go check it out, it will be fun” 

You wanted to, there was no point in denying that his excitement was contagious and that you felt like checking the place out but you were also a bit worried about the consequences your sneaking out adventure could bring him. The company was surely not happy about your relationship with Yeonjun even though they hadn't made the two of you break up in order to protect themselves from a scandal, Yeonjun would surely be scolded if they ever find out about what you did and it would automatically involve Soobin for not paying enough attention to the group as the leader. The fact that he could get hurt was also there, holding you back from accepting his offer, despite Yeonjun not being as equally famous here as he was in Korea, there was no doubt fangirls would run after him if they were given the chance to. You had to recognize this little excursion had more bad outcomes than good ones. 

Knowing what was going through your mind exactly, Yeonjun didn't even wait for you to answer his question before he stood up from the bed, looking around the hotel room before his eyes landed back down on you. 

"Let's go" He suddenly said, reaching down to grab your arm and pulling you out of bed.

However his plan to suddenly run away backfired when you stepped on the blanket that had been covering you and tripped thanks to him, falling down onto the floor with a loud thud. Yeonjun flinched, looking down at you with an apologetic smile, ignoring the way you glared at him from the floor as he rushed to your suitcase.

“Get rid of that pijama and dress comfortably” 

“Yeonjun” You warned, still sitting on the floor as you looked at him

“Listen to me, let’s just do this” He said, throwing your clothes everywhere as he searched for something, hitting you right on the face when he threw your jeans over his head along with one of your oversized jumpers.

“Yeonjunie” You tried, whining as you looked at his back.

“If we get out in five minutes, we’ll be able to sneak out in the security’s shift change” The amount of details he had taken into account to make this possible made you arch an eyebrow, incredibly surprised by him.  This was not a sudden occurrence, Yeonjun had planned this.

“YEONJUN!” You screamed willing to stop his rant

“WHAT?” He screamed back, suddenly turning around to look at you with your shoes in his hand and your scarf around his neck “WHY ARE YOU STILL WEARING THAT? GET CHANGED!”

“Breathe” You said looking down at him, standing up with your clothes gathered in your arms so he could start feeling less anxious “Do you realize in how much trouble we’ll get if they find out we’re gone?” 

“I don’t care” Yeonjun replied with an ecstatic smile on his lips “Get dressed” 

The two of you couldn’t stop laughing as you ran down the almost deserted road and away from the hotel where you were staying. Yeonjun had been totally right about the shift change from the guards and the hall where the TXT’s rooms were situated hadn’t been watched for a good ten minutes. Nobody, not even the guys, knew you were out of your room and they hopefully wouldn’t notice until you came back later that night.

“I can’t believe we did it” You said chucking, slowing your pace down as you turned your head to look back at him. Yeonjun intertwined your fingers, stopping his running too as he suddenly pulled you closer to his body, smirking as soon as your faces were merely centimeters away. “You’re insane” You whispered, looking up into his eyes.

This was probably one of the few times you’ve seen Yeonjun being this happy, the glint in his eyes told you he was already having the time of his life. 

"You're right" He agreed with a playful smirk on his face "I'm absolutely insane for you"

Your heart stopped beating at the sound of his words. Since the first day you started dating, Yeonjun has had the ability to make you feel as shy as you felt the first time the both of you met. Maybe it was because of his enchanting smile, or the way his eyes lit up when they met yours or how your heart skipped a beat when his nose scrunched up in pure happiness but your boyfriend simply made you fall in love with him all over again every single day you spent by his side. 

"What? You're not going to say you love me too?" He asked teasingly, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately. 

"I think we've been watching too many dramas together" You teased back, laughing when he groaned, not letting you move away from him. 

"Come on, I just got out of the hotel knowing that if I get caught I'll get the scolding of my life for you" He said smirking, pressing small pecks on the corners of your lips "The least you can do is profess your eternal love for me"

"Oh Yeonjun-ah" You said dramatically, bowing your head "Thank you for sneaking out if the hotel to spend some time with a mere mortal like me" Even though those words weren't the ones he wanted to hear exactly, Yeonjun couldn't help but laugh, throwing his head back amused. 

"Just kiss me already, idiot" He insisted with a small grin, looking down at you, straight into your eyes. 

Rolling yours, you finally gave into his wants -which were also yours- and went to close the small distance between your faces, craving to feel the warmth of his lips against yours already. However, as soon as your lips were about to touch, a driver that was passing by, honk their claxon at the two of you, whistling and cheering with his friends at the small romantic scene Yeonjun and you were starring in the middle of the street. 

The sudden public appreciation made the two of you shy and instead of kissing you, Yeonjun just rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet chuckle as he closed his eyes. 

"Why doesn't the world want me to kiss you?" He asked quietly, still smiling through his words. 

"Screw the world, I just care about you"

Surprising him, you grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him towards you, making your lips meet in a rushed kiss. Yeonjun couldn't help but smile and you giggled against his lips, shivering coldly when his hands reached up to cup one of your cheeks, caressing your soft skin gently. 

After a few seconds of just kissing each other, refusing to be the one to break the moment, Yeonjun ended up pulling away "Are we moving or we're just going to make out in this shady street?" He asked playfully, refusing to move his lips away from yours, letting them brush against your lips with every single word he said. His eyes opened, watching your features curiously yet amusedly. 

"Let's go, we've got an entire Christmas market to explore"

When you got to the place where the event was being held, there was no point in denying anxiety was starting to get to you, there were a lot of people around and there was no doubt that somebody from the crowd would surely recognize your famous boyfriend if the cap he was wearing fell down.

Yeonjun fixed his cap, lowering it a bit more so it would cover most of his blue hair and his eyes, his hand squeezing yours to reassure you that everything would be alright. He wasn't worried about himself but the fact that if fans started gathering around him, you would also be trapped in the middle of that nightmare with him and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. 

"Maybe it's better if we go back to the hotel?" He suddenly asked, the thought of you getting hurt being too much for him to handle. 

You looked up at him confused yet surprised, after how far you’ve got he wanted to return to your room? "What?" You asked as if you hadn't heard him correctly, frowning softly, intertwining your fingers tighter "But you wanted to take a look, right?" You asked again, turning your body so you would be facing him. 

"I don't want you to be trapped with me if someone recognizes me" He confessed, feeling a little fidgety yet shy at the sudden confession. Yeonjun shrugged when you kept watching him in pure awe, kind of fidgety under your unwavering gaze.

“It’s alright, nobody will recognize you” You muttered, pulling his hand as you stepped closer into the market, noticing he was feeling even more nervous.

“You sure?” He asked looking down at you, squeezing your hand even tighter.

“Let’s get some waffles!” You pulled his hand tightly, ignoring his last question and Yeonjun, unable to say no to you when you had that childish yet incredibly beautiful expression on your face ended up following you into the market, praying everything would turn out fine.

“I can’t believe we wasted so much money in a waffle” He muttered, walking away from the little stand as you bit down onto the nutella waffle he had just bought for you. It was true, it had been ridiculously expensive but seeing how happy you were eating it made it totally worth it.

“Shut up, you could buy the entire stand if you wanted to” You said amused, groaning satisfied when the warm sweet flavor overwhelmed your paladar. “This is so good, try it” You pushed the waffle in his direction and Yeonjun couldn’t help but laugh when he saw you had gotten some nutella onto your nose.

“Can you stop sticking your nose into our food?” He asked jokingly, using a tissue to get rid of the sticky chocolate stain on your skin before he leaned closer to take a bite from it.

“Our food?” You asked shocked, watching him take a huge bite from your waffle “Hey! You might as well eat the rest of it!” You scolded with a pout, trying hard not to smile when he just chuckled after swallowing your food “Not letting you take another bite”

“Oh come on, I want some more” Yeonjun whined, wrapping his arms around you from behind so he could keep you close to him and avoid you walking away. “Please babe?” He asked, using the petname, knowing that would make you feel weaker against his advances.

“Nope” You shook your head, firm on your decision.

“Please, please, please, my loooove” Yeonjun added in a cute voice, leaving a thousand kisses on your cheek until you started giggling in his arms once again, absolutely melting against him.

“Fine, whatever, take another bite” You said trying to sound angry but laughing in the end.

Yeonjun smiled satisfied with your answer, leaning his head over your shoulder so he could still take a bite from behind you without having to unwrap his arms from you. The side of his head rested comfortably against yours, his body slowly rocking to the beat of the christmas carols that played in the background. So far, nobody seemed to be paying attention to any of you and Yeonjun was glad the two of you could feel like a normal couple for once.

“We should buy another one on our way back to the hotel” He proposed, watching you eat the last bite with a smile on his face, his head leaning down instinctively to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Didn’t you say it was too expensive?” You asked tilting your head back so you could look at him

“I never said I was paying for it” He replied, smirking, making you roll your eyes and break free from the comfort of his arms.

“You’re….”

“Amazing, cute, adorable, absolutely handsome, sexy?” He asked lowly, his deep voice turning your cheeks slightly pink. Yeonjun smiled at your reaction and you shook your head.

“An idiot” You finished before walking away, amused when you heard him whining and complaining behind you.

The two of you started walking around, looking at all the different stalls and seeing the things they sold apart from buying more food for the two of you. The atmosphere was fantastic and being able to walk downtown with Yeonjun like you were doing right now felt incredibly domestic yet it somehow felt like one of the best dates the two of you ever had. Walking while holding hands, drinking hot chocolate and just joking with each other would be your ideal date from now on.

Unfortunately, the time to go back approached and even when the two of you wanted to spend more time out, stay there for a little longer, you knew you should go back to the hotel before someone ended up realizing Yeonjun and you had sneaked out without any security. You loved him and you would hate yourself if he got in trouble just to please you.

“Wait” Yeonjun suddenly stopped walking, stopping right in front of the gigantic Christmas tree that had been placed in the middle of the square. The sight of his face adorned with the colorful lights of the tree made you smile, he looked so cute, so handsome...It made you realize all over again that you were truly lucky to have such a boyfriend “I bought you a present”

Your brain took a few seconds to process what he had just said, you were surprised and shocked to say the least “You did?” You asked curiously, kind of feeling bad for not buying anything for him “You could have said something and I would have also got you one” You said pouting but he shook his head, pulling you a bit closer to him so you would hear him perfectly over the sounds of the music and people talking that surrounded you.

“I know dating someone like me isn’t easy” He started off, his smile fading a little when his eyes met yours “Like yeah, having a famous boyfriend must be cool and all of that” He joked, making you smile “But I know for sure that you sometimes wish we could do things we normally can’t do, like what we did today” Yeonjun squeezed your hand when you shook your head, wanting to reassured him but he kept talking “I’ve never really said this out loud but after this trip I realized it might be important for you to hear it because you are the most important person in my life” Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness of his voice, his words making you tear up a little “Like, I can’t believe almost a year ago I was afraid to talk to you and now we’re travelling all around the world together” 

“Thank God I approached you first” You interrupted jokingly, rolling your eyes, making him laugh

“I thank God for that every single day, trust me” Yeonjun said wrapping one of his arms around your torso, keeping your body against him, making the moment even more intimate between the two of you “I want to thank you for being there in my hardest days, for giving me support when I most needed it and for accompanying me even when I push you away when stress gets to me” You shook your head again, feeling a tear roll down your cheek “Things aren’t always easy for us but you’re such a strong person….We wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you...I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you” He said resting his forehead against yours, smiling even though you were starting to cry even harder at his words “So yeah, thank you for staying by my side, for standing my annoying ass and for being my number one fan no matter what….Thank you for loving me”

You opened your mouth to say something but Yeonjun shut you up with a soft kiss, not letting you say anything yet since he wasn’t really done with his little speech “And that’s why I bought you this” Excitedly, he took out a Santa Claus’ hat, making you laugh when you saw the small present he had bought for you “I want you to have this through every Christmas we spend together as a memory of this moment” Yeonjun let go of your hand to reach out and put on the hat, smiling widely when he saw how cute you looked with it on your head “Of the night we sneaked out and finally had a normal date for once” He added chuckling, making you giggle “Of the night I said I want to spend the rest of my Christmas by your side”

Without saying anything else, Yeonjun leaned down to seal his words with the sweetest and most wonderful kiss the two of you ever shared in your lives.

Running down the hall, you couldn’t help but keep laughing when you should be dead silent so nobody would notice Yeonjun and you running down the hall. Right when you were almost in your room, Yeonjun spotted one of the security guards walking towards the direction you were and pulled you into the staircase, almost making you drop the waffles the two of you were still eating on your way back.

“Dude!” You whispered shouted, hitting his chest for almost ruining your favourite jumper with a Nutella bath.

“Ow!” Yeonjun complained, frowning as he looked at you “He’s coming this way, shut up, shut up!” He said panicking, pushing you harder against the wall as if the two of you could magically camouflage like chameleons did when they were scared.

“Yeah, everyone answered when I knocked on their door except Yeonjun, maybe he is asleep?” The bodyguard asked into the walkie talkie as he walked towards the elevator “I’ll check on Soobin and then come back to his room with a key”

Yeonjun’s and your eyes opened as wide as plates and your boyfriend started running down the hall at light speed as soon as the bodyguard headed down another hall. “Come on, come on, come on” He muttered, frantically patting his pockets when he arrived at your door. As soon as he found the key, Yeonjun opened it and gently pushed you inside, closing it as quietly yet as fast as he could.

“What do I do with the waffles?” You asked panicking, whispering as he ran around, already undoing the bed sheets to jump inside.

“Hide them!” Yeonjun said turning around to look at you from the bed

“No way, are you Sherlock Holmes?” You asked rolling your eyes “Where do I hide them Yeonjun? Under the freaking bed?” 

“Just put them somewhere, they won’t check the bathroom!” 

You ran inside the bathroom and left the waffles there before rushing back into the room seeing Yeonjun was already laying under the blankets. The two of you giggled when you slid besides him, instantly laying on your side, being the big spoon and letting Yeonjun be the small one this time. You barely had time to pull the bedsheets over you before a couple of bodyguards poked their heads inside, their eyes instantly laying on the two of you sleeping there.

“Is she wearing a hat?” One of them whispered, his voice sounding confused.

“She is” The other one replied chuckling, you felt Yeonjun burying his face into the pillow to not start laughing himself too when he realized you had forgotten to take it off “Hey, it’s their way to celebrate Christmas together, that’s cute”

“I guess it is” You heard them stepping out of the room communicating through the walkie talkie, Yeonjun was safe and sound inside his bed, sleeping like a baby besides his girlfriend.

The two of you started laughing quietly as soon as they walked away, placing your hands onto your stomach as tears of happiness rolled down your cheeks. The two of you were almost breathless when your laughter finally died down, turning your head to meet his eyes again.

“If you get the waffles from the bathroom I’ll love you forever” Yeonjun said happily, making you groan obviously disliking his words.

“No, you get them” You replied pushing him gently, successfully kicking Yeonjun out of the bed.

“I hate you” He said glaring at you as he walked to the bathroom

“You love me” You said giggling when he walked back out, holding the two waffles.

“I guess you’re right” He admitted sitting besides you, rolling his eyes, acting all confident as if he hadn’t poured his heart out for you a few seconds ago.

“YoU’rE tHe MoSt ImPoRtAnT pErSoN iN My LiFe” You mocked smirking, laughing when he pushed you away from him. “I love you too idiot” You replied, watching him going from pouty puppy to a huge bright smile

“I love you more Miss Claus” Yeonjun replied, making the two of you giggle, pecking your lips before he handed you your waffle “I love you more”