#nobody's ALLOWED to be dead okay? okay
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any pronounce ⢠18 ⢠I am an artist...I can draw i think ⢠I like make long ahh meta posts about MCU vers.Wanda Maximoff and anything related to her and I draw her sometimes ⢠i wish I have a useful hyperfixation, this lady is just digging holes in my brain...Feel free to scroll in my tags
Links: [Main Account ⢠About me] - Spotify - Pathetic yapping about Wanda Maximoff - my art - art blog: @fish-of-khonsu
some notes down below ig...ââââ
Made this sideblog so I can freely talk about Wanda... Without clogging my main since its multifandom...if you don't like her.. specially her mcu vers. Then this is not the place for you. Also this is acc is like not idk serious?? It's just like a Place to me to be not normal about this lady.... Also I Talk a lot
kinda corny and cringe sometimes... but this is my blog and I can do what I want feel free block to me idc really
I am so weirdly fixated on her sometimes she makes me act insane and sad
I made this sideblog so I can freely and comfortably talk about my comfort character...if you send a negative ask or reblog my post with Something that is negative or anything hateful I will block you... it's nothing serious if I did... I just want a safe space where I can lose my mind and yap about Wanda
Literally donât try to interact if you hate Wanda...No dead ass donât ... loving her is literally what my entire blog is about
If you hate Vision block meee, Wanda would flame your ass if she heard you saying bad things about her husband đ¤đ¤
I would list real dni things but I just block weird and horrible people and theyâre not gonna read this shit
You can request me to draw... btw (it's gonna either be some what good or down right ugly)
I listen to a lot of music and I occasionally post songs for a playlist recs for Wanda and sometimes my Spotify playlist links
You can never make me hate any version of Wanda Maximoff I don't care what you say, I don't care about your reason if you hate her idc leave me be
Since this is a side blog I can't like or interact with you using this acc / all of my post notification is also sometimes muted because my main acc always gets a lot of notification (if I follow you with this acc, my main acc also follows since this a sideblog of that...sorry)
You can send me any questions in 'ask' btw, I like answering them, it can be Wanda related or any other marvel character or it could be something random, whatever you want just don't send nsfw stuff, idk what to do with those...
sometimes I am too anxious to answer ask and replies..plss :( I am not ignoring you I am just an extremely anxious and nervous loser.... Also i am not comfortable with people randomly private messaging me if you want to talk use the ask button plss
If you don't like something that I post or you don't like my account just block me please I don't like arguing with people
I talk a lot..and also kinda bad at speaking English
#if i stop posting it's because i am dead#i know nobody cares but i am not always active#i talk too much#i am gonna crawl my way out of the afterlife just to see wanda#No vision and billy and tommy hate are allowed on this blog btw#no i am not okay#Spotify
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another billions analysis thing is like so yeah while it's like "hmm let's think about power" but then doesn't really do that, what's there to offset that is "but let's think about what these people with billions(tm) are doing because of their like personal feelings & lives & whatever" and the personal feelings are the thrilling journey of s1 men following the compass of their ego & the way their personal lives matter at all beyond this is about their Relationships. except the relationships are also actually about the power billions isn't really thinking about because the ones billions focuses on involve this Fealty where one person does whatever and the other is just stuck with it. sure they might air some unhappiness sometimes, but if it's not punished or ignored from the start anyway, it'll still end up so inconsequential that it's as though it never happened. and what's left to offset the way that can't mean anything if you again take it for granted that of course people are just locked into such relationships & best they can do is fix it from the inside or embrace it as is? is "do you think this character is a winner among losers & you want to see them pwn everyone & do whatever they want forever" & if you like all the media the creators do like
#or you can watch the show wrong but where billions was never planning to allow taylor to Disrupt these crucial dynamics#sure they can kind of break with axe but never with wendy!#who can also kind of break with axe & chuck but also not really at all! worst Cost for anyone: divorce. & even then it's not that bad#it's like whenever things just conclude with a reverent nod to like Nuclear Family subsection Fealty To Parent or To Cishet Spouse#like where invoking that serves as a resolution to all the shit going on throughout the actual plot / themes of the material#oh well thank god we have the nuclear family. wendy's on emergency call for her kids & sometimes she will pat their head as they silently#disappear out of frame but that's all we need to be so glad for her she has her nightmare family dinners forever#does taylor have Okay I Guess weekly friend dinners? who cares.#and i mean from there which relationships matter are also just determined by which ones the show cares about in particular#same as which it believes is obviously an Epic Man. or a girlboss. which is primarily wendy sorry! as the wife who will epic divorce you#winston billions#kind of putting a damper on thinking about how Feelings & Personal Motivations play into things#when once again it's precluded by the power dynamics of characters who get to do whatever they want no consequence ever#just going through motions like oh no wendy feels she was in the wrong in s4? no consequence by the end of it & that just Goes Away#how does anything have anything to do with wendy's motivations in s7#the real shining example of how really nothing holds up upon any earnest consideration is everything going on with axe & wendy#those relevant Motivations and it's like okay so wendy should want axe dead right? Wrong. it's peak beautiful romance time now#and anytime there's a more actually balanced relationship where nobody just does whatever they want no consequence?#billions is only interested if a s1 epic winner is involved & even then it'll only get so much material simply as fun little bonus flair#all that stuff about chuck's dad always being around to ruin his life? well he'll just keep doing that forever i guess#and this isn't some ''oh no'' moment like ah the parent always means well! and what's the child gonna do? escape this? lol
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it's definitely my predisposition to extreme frugality+redneck engineering, but i'm now obsessed with creating things literally without buying Anything. no supplies no tools no nothing, only the stuff you can just find outside, like Plants, Sticks, and Rocks.
I'm making textiles with nothing but foraged plant materials using no tools except sticks. Nature allows you to do this! There's no rules! I mean okay well maybe there might be some rules sometimes but they're just weak human rules! The plants themselves? They're like "Why sure! You can make yarn with nothing but fibers from the dead stem I don't need anymore, a couple sticks from that tree over there, and your own body and mind! Why not?"
Plants like to give us gifts! And nobody has the power to stop them!
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batman AU where everything is the same, exept that the Al Ghuls are the official royal family of the soverain city state of Nanda Parbat.
Like, its a very small country, but a powerful one and absolutely fuckall is known about their royal family, or the nation itself bc it's impossible to send spies inside without never hearing from them again. Nobody, exept for immidiate family even realizes that Damian is an actual crown prince of an actual country.
Like, just, him, on twitter. and then someone makes a joke about him and the way he is so overly formal in public. And Damian is like, 'yeah, I'm representing my whole country here, I'm the crown prince of my nation', and the person on twitter is like...
'Wat?'
And then Dick comes in the comments like. 'Look up the royal liniage of Nanda Parbat before you embarras yourself, I am begging you.' que a small twitter freakout bc holy shit, the youngest Wayne kid is actual fucking royalty, also, apparently Brucie Wayne fucked a princess, what's up with that?
the consequences this would have. Imagine this. They're at a gala, and IDK Black Mask shows up to rob/kidnap/kill them. The hired security never stood a chance. Bruce is there and is already making plans to slip out, and appear as batman.
interestingly enough, Damian is not making similar plans.
Damian just waits.
No more then two seconds later, at least 12 shadows crash trough the roof and absolutely massacre everyone there. No mercy, just murder, before making a protective ring around Damian, who is still completely cool and composed.
The cops try and make a stink about the 2 dozen dead henchmen and the dead Black Mask, but Crown Prince Damian just calmly walks over and tells commissioner Gordon that these were his body guards, and are therefore allowed to do these things if they judge it to be in favor of the crown prince's safety.
Nobody can really argue with that.
Two days later, at school, there are some upperclassmen who are being bitches, and are like. 'Where are your bodyguards now?'
'Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not here.'
And a red dot appears on the boys forehead.
I just think it would be really funny if Damian Al Ghul was a genuine prince, in an official, international way. PS.
Even better if the Al Ghul's adopt Jason along the way, and Jason just, straight up also becomes a prince. He's not blood related tho, so he's still in line behind Damian, even though he is the oldest.
That would be insanity. After the Black mask fiasco, Jason just orders the shadows around like. 'okay, after we're done here, escort the crown prince to the secure location.' or whatever.
Someone films it. It goes viral.
People are like; 'what the fuck, why can you order them around like that.'
And Jason is like; 'I am the second prince, therefore, by tradition, the General. The Nanda Parbat fighting forces are under my command.'
and all of twitter is like; ????????
Do you see my vision here???
#batfam#batman#robin#damian wayne#damian al ghul#al ghul family#thalia al ghul#ras al ghul#bruce wayne#brucie wayne#twitter#social media#general jason todd#jason todd#jason todd is an al ghul#jason todd and damian wayne meet at the league of assassins#jason al ghul
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How to adopt a dead kid in three weeks or less
It's midnight and I'm hopped up on that ADHD juice. Been thinking on and off about this prompt and how things play out. Might clean this up for ao3 posting later but whatever.
Part 1 || Part 2
____
Danny can feel the weight of their stares like itâs physical. A last mournful glance at his pancakes- Actually no, fuck it. He grabs the last one from his plate, flashes the whole Wayne family a peace sign, and turns invisible. The pancake is eaten as he dashes out the door and away from the shouting and chaos he leaves the family in.
 -
âWhere the FUCK did he go!?â Jasonâs shout somehow made it above the din of the others- and got Bruce and Dick yelling âlanguageâ back at him. The pricks.
âI say! Watch your tone Master Jason! As for the rest of you-â The whole family shut the immediate fuck up when Alfred speaks. His displeased expression more than enough to cow them into submission. âI expect you to clean up after yourselves today and a quiet trip to the batcave to find our new ward. Master Jason, you will be taking care of Master Dannyâs plates, and I will hear of an apology from you for scaring that poor boy.â
Thereâs a chorus of âyes Alfredâ from the chastised bats, but Bruce- carefully mind you- presses.
âAlfred, how long has he been here? Why didnât you say anything?â
âThe young master has been staying for the past three weeks sir. And despite my best attempts, I have not yet been able to convince him to sleep in his own room.â
Bruce groans and rubs at his face before turning back to his other children, âNobody thought to tell me!?â
The kids all look at each other, and then back at him with the most judgmental âare you seriousâ looks they can muster. Except Cassandra, who very excitedly signs; New brother! All Bruce can do is sigh into his hands.
âWeâll discuss this later-â
âWhy didnât you notice then old man?â Jason grins, a little feral at Bruceâs dirty look but sue him.
âOkay okay, letâs hurry up and get this place cleaned up. Thereâs no telling how far Danny got- and the sooner we go after him the sooner we figure out whatâs going on.â Dick said, quickly gathering his own plate.Â
âAnd the sooner I can get all of you presents.â The entire family stops. Staring at Jason in shock. âOnly the finest âWorldâs best detectiveâ mugs for all of you!âÂ
The groan he gets from all of them is perfect.
-
âI cannot believe you didnât think to tell me either!â Batman scolds Oracle later.Â
Everyone is out in force. Even Batwoman, Batwing, and Bluebird (after having a good laugh at Batmanâs expense) had joined. They had all been searching for Danny the better part of the day. Batman had even agreed to let Red Robin and Robin join the search and skip school. Thatâs how seriously the kids knew he was taking this. And how important it was for one of them to get to Danny before Batman scared him off for good with his infamous paranoia.
âIf you didnât notice, that oneâs on you Batman.â God Jason really loved Barbara sometimes.Â
âOracle would not have allowed a dangerous individual into our midst. She is thorough when it comes to such things.â Robin is moving fast, probably swinging right behind Batman. No doubt headed east where the nicer areas were and any sane person was bound to head.
âI think thatâs the nicest thing youâve ever said to me, baby bat.â
âO, you wouldnât happen to have a new update on Dannyâs whereabouts would you? Or anything from his past?â Nightwing cuts in after Robinâs little âTtâ. Heâs somewhere near the border to Bludhaven, in case Dannyâs making it out that way.
âNothing Nightwing.â They can hear her frustration, and concern, through the voice modulator. âThe kidâs practically a ghost. All I can tell you is that heâs not from Gotham. What little I can find of his time here in Gotham is some security feeds of dumpster diving and sleeping on a bench.â
âHeâs also definitely a meta.â Signal mutters, somewhere to the west and near the coast..
Jason remains quiet and lets them all talk. As funny as it is- and holy shit Jason will never let any of them live this down ever- it is a little strange this random kid would just... Show up out of nowhere. Meta or not. Alfred said he wouldnât sleep in a bed of his own, but he also hadnât left until after Jason questioned his existence. This âDannyâ had been around the manor, the bats coming and going, for weeks. He couldâve found out their secrets, and even if he hadnât sold them out yet, thereâs no telling who might pick him up and drag those secrets out of him. Or worse, if he was sent here by someone, then they needed to find out who. And fastâŚ
âŚ.
Ugh. He sounded like Batman.
âHey guys, how well do you even know Danny?â Jason pulls over near an abandoned apartment building. Cutting the engine to his bike to hear them all better. âHe was there for a few weeks, pick up anything on him? Might help us figure out where he ran off to.â That last bit was added as an afterthought, not wanting to be too paranoid, but it was also true.
âI know how this is going to sound, but uh, well, he does seem really nice actually.â Signal helpfully offers. âDick and I ran into Danny I think not long after he got there?â
âOâs camera feed tells us Danny arrived at the manor 28 days ago, Thursday night 11:38 PM. Looking at the records, he was picked up prior to that in front of Wayne Enterprises by one of our drivers- Archer Tenson. Heâs reliable and honest, no record of any sort that would make him a suspect of subterfuge.â Nightwing rattles off the information pretty calmly, but they all know him well enough to hear the concern. âAccording to the records, he was going to pick up the caffeine addict after the cafe got an alert of his fourth Death Latte-â They all ignored Red Robinâs little âhey!â, â-and dropped him off safely at home.â
âRed Robin.â Batmanâs parental disapproval was palpable through the comms.Â
âThere wasnât a fourth Death Latte!â Red Robin protested from his place in the batcave. Aiding in the digital search and combing over the camera feeds over the past few weeks for any information about Danny. âThe third Death Latte was the last one. An Alert at W.E. was the plan the whole night. Nobody made it back to the manor until sunrise and the cafe kept saying there wasnât any more coffee and-!â He gasped, horrified! Outraged! And the rest were left to hold their snickers as Red Robin said, âHe stole my last coffee!â
âThatâs right, Danny said he was a caffeine addict too.â Batwing mused. Probably flying somewhere over the more open suburbia in case Danny was trying to make a break out of the city that way.
âWait when did you meet Danny?â Spoiler asked- Jason knew she was patrolling nearby with Bluebird. Those two, Orphan and Signal were the only ones who were allowed to come close to Crime Alley. Mainly because they annoyed Jason the least, but also because they understood how bad the streets could get and looked the other way better than the others. Signal surprised him about that one.
âStart from the beginning.â Batman orders. âNightwing, Signal, you met Danny when?â
âLooking back, it was actually the day after he got there it sounds like.â Signal sighs. âI was headed downstairs for breakfast, and saw Dick in one of the sitting rooms. I thought I saw our caffeine addict passed out on the couch and thought dick was going to wake him, so I went in to helpâŚâ
#dc x dp#batman#batfamily#jason todd#danny fenton#writing prompt#the next few bits will be all the bats and their meetings with danny
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The One Where Harry Tries to Win You Back
Summary:Â When Harry cancels your date again, you decide to go out alone.
Warnings:Â none
Word Count:Â 2222
A/N:Â An angsty one shot from 2016.
You dropped the phone on the bed before you plopped down angrily beside it. With a huff, you crossed your arms, determined not to let the tears come that burned behind your eyes. Harry had canceled your date...again.
This was the third time in less than two weeks. Each time he had a valid excuse, but you couldn't help but feel like you were less of a priority and more of an "I'll see you when I can" kind of a person. You'd always put him first, rearranging your schedule to fit his, but you didn't think he did the same. And frankly, you were getting sick of it.
You loved being with him, in fact you thought things were getting serious for a while. But now you weren't so sure. You knew he was busy, that was a given. But having to sit home with the television and a pint of ice cream each time he called to say he was sorry, he had to cancel, was starting to wear on your nerves, not to mention your self-esteem.
Each time he'd apologized, and each time you'd told him it was okay, you understood. Now as you sat on the bed looking down at the dress you'd bought on credit, you started to question your level of understanding. Just how much can a girl take before she says never mind and moves on?
Taking a deep breath, you knew what you needed to do. You resolved not to watch another movie on Netflix or whine into a bowl of Haagen Dazs. You were supposed to be going to a party tonight. And that's just what you were gonna do, Harry or no Harry.
Grabbing your bag and your phone, you headed out the door. As soon as you pulled up to the valet, you saw the crowd of people, for a moment second guessing your decision. But when your door opened and the valet held out his hand, you took it, stepping out of the car into the warm night and handing him the keys. Had you been with Harry, no doubt the cameras would have been flashing a thousand times more than they were now, but regardless of his absence, you knew photos were being taken of you. You didn't care. You were determined to have a good time.
When you walked into the room, the music hit you instantly, the bass vibrating in your chest. You gazed around to see if you saw any familiar faces. You saw a few, but nobody that you had been introduced to yet. Finding the bar, you quickly ordered a drink, swaying your hips to the beat. Within minutes, you were feeling loose and carefree, ready to dance.
Squeezing past a handful of people, you made it to the middle of the dance floor, raising your hands above your head. Almost immediately, two girls that you recognized smiled and joined you. Soon, you had a small crowd around you, all of you lost in the music and the vibe.
Three or four songs later, you made your way back to the bar, ordering yourself a shot and another cocktail. The two girls you'd recognized chatted with you for a bit before you noticed one of the guys that had been dancing near you giving you the eye. Momentarily you wished Harry was with you, but you quickly shrugged off the thought, feeling good to be noticed.
An hour and a couple drinks later, you were back on the dance floor, the crowd now so big that everyone was touching, barely any space between their bodies. You felt a pair of hands on your hips, a male body pressed up against yours. Perhaps it was your now inebriated state or just the uninhibited high you felt, but you leaned back into him, not caring at all who was watching.
That's when you saw him.
The hairs on the back of your neck tickled your skin as his eyes burned into yours. If you weren't so mad at him at that moment, he might have taken your breath away. As usual, he looked drop dead gorgeous.
Swallowing, you averted your gaze, grabbing the hands that continued to grip your hips, moving them up to your waist. You could feel him watching you as you allowed the faceless male behind you grind up against you. Suddenly, you felt a firm hand grab hold of your arm.
"What are you doing?" he growled.
Finally looking at him, you cocked a brow. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you came here without me and you're letting some bloke feel you up."
Swaying a bit, you gave Harry a smirk. "So what if I am?"
Clenching his jaw, he grabbed your arm tighter, pulling you off the dance floor. When you were both out of earshot, Harry stopped and you jerked your arm out of his grip.
"What the fuck Harry?" you scowled.
Her glared at you, looking like he was about to retort, but thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. Blowing a breath out of his nostrils, he ran a hand through his curls. Finally, he opened his mouth again, this time to speak.
"I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" you nearly shouted.
"It means..." Harry paused, "it means I'm sorry I had to cancel, but I didn't expect to see some other bloody guy's hands on you!"
"Why not?" you shot back. "You don't give a shit about me!"
"What?"
"Admit it, Harry. It was fun while it lasted. But you've made it apparent that this isn't serious to you." You started to walk away, but Harry grabbed you by the wrist.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, the expression on his face a mixture of hurt and fury.
"You always have something else going on that's more important. Yes, I get that you're who you are. I knew that coming into this. But I'm tired of you canceling on me. I've had it. If I don't mean more to you, then I'm moving on. I'm saying goodbye right now."
This time you were able to remove your arm from his grasp, heading toward the ladies' room.
"[Y/N]!" he called, but you didn't turn around.
Once in the stall, you let the tears fall. The truth was, you liked him. A lot. You didn't really want to let him go. But you were so tired of being made to feel like a second choice, like you would always be there waiting on the back burner. You deserved more than that.
After washing your hands and freshening up, you made your way back to the party. You didn't see any sign of Harry, so you assumed he'd probably given up and left. Fine. So be it. When you returned to the bar for another drink, however, you heard a low voice in your ear.
"Can we talk about this?"
You barely shifted your gaze to look at him, standing so closely behind you, you could feel his breath against your neck.
"Please?"
You closed your eyes softly before turning around to face him. This time all of the anger he'd shown before had dissipated, leaving only a face of concern. You swallowed hard, opening your lips, but giving only a nod instead.
"I'm really sorry," he confessed, his shoulders dropping.
You bit your lower lip, wanting to believe him, but still holding your ground.
"If you say so," you muttered.
Harry sighed. "[Y/N], Jesus, what can I do to show you I care about you? That I want to be with you?"
"Stop canceling on me!" you yelled a little louder than you'd meant to.
"I can't...I can't always help that. If I have a last-minute work commitment, I have to tend to it. It has nothing to do with not wanting you, or not making you a priority. Please understand that."
Harry's tone was still firm though laced with frustration. You stared at him for a moment, trying hard not to cave. He could feel your resistance, so he threw his hands up.
"I don't know what else to do."
"I don't either," you said. "Maybe this just isn't working out, Harry."
"So that's it?" he shook his head in disbelief. "It's over?"
You blinked. "I guess so."
Harry gave you one last blank stare before turning on his heels and walking away. You drew a shaky breath, letting it out in the same fashion. The drink you had been determined to order to wash the pain away suddenly had no appeal. In fact, you now felt completely sober. Stepping away from the bar, you made your way closer to the exit until you finally found yourself outside waiting for the valet to bring your car around.
You weren't really sure how you made it home. You barely remembered the drive at all. You felt utterly numb. Stripping out of your dress, you hung it back up in the closet and changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Suddenly, another wave of anger came over you. So fucking what if Harry Styles didn't want you! You pulled your hair back into a ponytail and scrubbed off your makeup, getting more perturbed with each wipe of your hands. By the time you were finished, your cheeks flushed from the cleanse as well as annoyance, you realized you were crying.
Dammit! you cursed just as you heard a knock at the door. Or at least you thought you did. You paused in the hallway to listen for it, and when another knock came, you quickly wiped your eyes, heading toward the sound.
Harry stood on the other side of the door, a similar look on his face as your own. You let out a gasp, your lips beginning to say his name before he crossed the threshold and took your face into his hands, kissing you passionately.
"Ha-Harry," you managed to whisper when he finally pulled away.
"Listen to me, [Y/N]," he insisted. "I want you. I want us."
Blinking back a fresh set of tears, you looked at him, speechless. Pursing his lips, Harry breathed out of his nostrils before continuing.
"I'll show you how much. I felt gutted that I'd disappointed you again, having to cancel our date. I was able to get out early, so I called you, but got no answer. So I came over. And you weren't home. I called again, still nothing. I stood here in your fucking hallway trying to ring you until your neighbor saw me and said they'd seen you leave in a 'hot little number'," said Harry, using air quotes on the last three words. "I thought maybe you'd decided to go to the party. Wondering why or how didn't even register at the time. I was just thinking it would be nice to see you there. I'd show up and we could enjoy the rest of the evening together. I had no idea you were doing it out of spite, like some sort of way to get back at me for letting you down."
"I'm sor-" you began, but Harry pressed his finger to your lips.
"I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty," he added. "Youâre entitled to feel the way you feel. But I gotta admit, that shook me to the core seeing you with your body right up against some other guy."
"It did?" you murmured underneath his finger.
Harry nodded, finally releasing his finger from your mouth, allowing it to slide down your chin.
"Yeah. It did." He took another deep breath, letting it out roughly. "Maybe it's what I needed. Like a wake-up call."
"Harry, I-"
"Let me finish," he interrupted again. The furrow of his brows erased as he gave a small smile. "Please."
You chuckled lightly. "Maybe you should get inside the door first."
Harry laughed with you, stepping further into your apartment, allowing you to shut the door behind him. Then he took your hands in his.
"There's something else I have to confess," he swallowed. "And I was going to tell you tonight. But then..."
His voice trailed off as he looked at the floor.
"What is it?" you asked meekly.
Harry cleared his throat and looked up slowly. "Lately I've been feeling like...like I'm falling for y-"
This time it was your turn to silence him with your finger. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt your breath catch in your throat.
"Don't say it, Harry," you muttered.
"No?" he shook his head, his eyes wide in question.
"Not if you're just trying to get me back," you choked. "Not unless..."
Harry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him, his mouth crashing into yours with fervor and avidity. You heard yourself groan against his lips, your arms eagerly grabbing hold of his neck, needing to feel his body as close to yours as possible.
"...you mean it," you managed to finish between kisses.
You didn't need to hear Harry's response in words. He said it all as he lifted you up by the hips, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, and he led you back to the bedroom.
MASTERLISTÂ |Â KO-FIÂ |Â FEEDBACK
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x yn#harry styles x you#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles concept#harry styles writing#harry styles angst#reader fic
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Imagine getting split up in a haunted house with your friends. It starts off with the typical jumpscares as the actors do their job well.
You're wondering down a smoke filled hall full of flashing led lights. Fake blood is smeared on the walls and cobwebs are on the ceiling. You're still giggling from the way your friend shrieked the moment you all stepped in.
Looking around, you shuddered a little bit as you walked past a guy in clown makeup lying on the floor with a slash across his chest, blood pouring around him. Practical effects are getting so realistic these days, you thought to yourself.
You're so distracted as cheesy horror music still plays in the background that you don't notice a tall figure standing there until you run into them.
Tilting your head back, your eyes go wide as you see a man in a mask towering over you.
"Sorry." You smiled awkwardly as you took a step back to get away, and you see he's wearing black jeans, a white wife beater splattered in red, and holding on to what (you hope) is a fake axe. He easily towers over you.
The man stays silent, making the atmosphere feel more tense. He's tall and muscular, and you can only see his eyes peaking down at you from underneath the mask. He definitely fit the role of a haunt actor.
"Wow." You laughed nervously as you stepped to the side. "You're like, really in character, huh?"
The man stays silent as he turns and watches you rush past him, and you swear you can hear him chuckle as you turn the corner.
Chills ran down your spine as you started to wander around, feeling like someone was watching you, but every time you turned around to check, nobody was there. Frustration started to build up as you hut nothing but dead ends.
Sure, it was fun at first, with the occasional jumpscare popping out at you that would make flinch, then laugh at yourself for letting it get to you. But your phone had no reception and you were losing track of time.
This was getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself as you looked around for someone to ask for help to get out of there. You hoped your friends were having a better time than you were.
Once you reached the next dead end, you nearly screamed in frustration, ready to yank your hair out until you saw the same masked man from the corner of your eye.
"Okay." You sighed as you walked over to him. "Haha, you got me. Can you please help me get out of here now?"
The man stays silent, but his eyes are trained on you as he lowers his head to look down at you.
You rolled your eyes as he stayed in character, watching the blood drip off of the axe he was casually holding onto.
It wasn't until you got closer to him that the heavy metallic scent hit you. A chill ran down your spine, true terror running through your veins as you looked down at his weapon, noticing how sharp it really was. A real weapon, not allowed in haunts like this one.
Suddenly, the fun little jumpscares weren't so fun anymore. This man wasn't a haunt actor at all.
Your face paled as you remembered the dead clown that you'd passed by earlier. The actor that would've been the one to scare you a few times before helping you reunite with your friends at the exit. But he was really dead.
And now you were stuck here with him. An actual killer.
As if reading your thoughts, he grabbed your chin and pulled you against him. You were shaking as he leaned down, lowering his head to whisper in your ear.
"Run." He growled lowly before letting go of your chin and stepping back.
You didn't have to be told twice, immediately running away from him.
Suddenly, the smoke felt too heavy, the music was too loud, the deep red led lights that filled the rooms only added to your terror, and the animatronics they had to jump out at you only made you more overwhelmed.
You were nearly ready to cry as you turned around and saw the masked man casually walking towards you in typical horror movie slasher style.
Then you heard the sound of distant laughter. It sounded like your friends chatting with each other.
A wave of hope went through you as you ran over to the wall and started banging against it, screaming at the top of your lungs.
"Help!" You yelled out as loud as you could as you slapped your hands against the walls. "Please, help! He-"
You shrieked as a hand suddenly grabbed ahold of your hair and pushed you onto the cold ground.
The masked man throws his axe to the side as he climbs on top of you, making him look into his eyes.
He laughs wickedly, pressing himself against you as he tightens his grip on your hair. You screamed and cried, trying to push him off you as you feel his hard on rub against your thigh, cock straining against his jeans.
"Scream all you want." He grinned as he pulled his mask up, feeling his breath fanning against your lips. "Everyone will think it's all part of the show."
#ITS SPOOKY SEASON BITCHES#!!!!!!#so so so excited#tw noncon#grimm thirsts#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#yandere dabi#yandere bnha x reader#yandere haikyuu#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere tokyo revengers#yandere baji#yandere hanma#yandere gojo#yandere geto#yandere ushijima#yandere sukuna#yandere kuro#yandere bokuto#yandere kirishima#yandere bakugo#yandere kazutora#yandere keigo#yandere aizawa#yandere nanami#yandere mahito
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Whew you came in time. Iâd like to request Wolverine (from the Deadpool movie in particular) with a very caring and affectionate s/o. Once again, my weakness for grumpy/traumatized individual x sunshine shows
Logan oftentimes wondered why you, someone so kindhearted and willing to do anything just to see someone smile, stayed by his side especially after everything heâs done.
He didnât believe himself to be that great of a partner either when it counted but youâd always shone him that beautiful smile of yours and told him that he was anything but a bad partner. Oh how he too wishes he could accept that as the definitive truth but given how he had lead his life up until meeting you, Logan couldnât help but think otherwise.
He had lost the ability to trust a long time ago and would instead double down on an inherited belief that he didnât need nobody but himself, assuming that he was meant to walk this life a lone wolf he believed himself to be. Unfortunately for Logan he was a human as everybody else and humans more often then not craved connection, relationships and so on with other human beings.
Logan was no exception to this rule, no matter how often he thinks heâs not, but has forced himself to the point where he physically couldnât stay within the presence of someone the moment he starts to deeply care for them. He couldnât bear to be the reason someone else dies, regardless whether his part was intentional or unintentional.
So when you came into his life like a shining beacon, a second chance, everything within him told him to run away and maintain distance so that his bad luck doesnât rub off on you and causes to to be sent to an easy grave. However you were rather stubborn for someone so soft and sweet that no matter what Logan did to put distance between the two of you, you were quick to close the distance with a knowing look within your eyes as you placed a hand on his shoulder.
âItâs okay.â You tell him. âIâm not going anywhere.â
âDonât promise something you donât intend to uphold.â He replies as he then shrugs off your hand and walks elsewhere. He wasnât going to make it easy for you, that you were aware and were willing to anything to make him see that you werenât lying, but what you werenât aware was how easily you had slipped past Loganâs guard much to his dismay and that made him scared.
He had already lost Scott, jean, ororo, beast and many more due to his actions, the wounds were too fresh to be ignored as their screams of his name haunted his dreams as they did his waking life. He didnât want to add your name amongst the seemingly never ending graveyard that was his loved ones, past, present and future. And yet he couldnât help but find himself wanting to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and protected.
His body was torn in two directions on how to go about you, leave you alone until you see that he wasnât any good for you, or stay by your side and make sure that no harm ever does come to touch you. ever.
You were there during every turbulent moment of his life, watched him tear things apart and show the ugliest side of himself in hopes it would scare you away, but all you did was step over the dead bodies and hold his face in your hands as your thumbs wiped the blood from his cheeks.
âAre you okay? Youâre not hurt?â Youâd ask and Logan would always be left a little speechless because how can you still see the good in him after seeing firsthand what he could do when tested. He was confused at how you could still smile at him so sweetly while clearing him of blood that wasnât his, he didnât understand what he did to deserve you.
For all Logan knew was that he was cursed and shouldnât be allowed a happy existence but yet life sent him the sweetest, most kind and honest person in the form of you as what? Repentance for all the shit heâs been through? Like heâd ever believe life would ever give him a fucking break when all itâs ever done but take everything away from him, even when he was doing okay for himself.
He saved lives but the ones closest to him were taken away, and even when he does take lives the people closest to him still suffer regardless. So what was Logan meant to take away from that other than the fact that he was doomed for the very moment he could heal a gun wound as though it were a scratch.
However overtime and a fuckton of patience on your behalf and soon enough Logan was more reciprocal of your affection and care, even going so far as to give you his own affection in his own unique way that wasnât grunts and unconvincing reassurance of his own well being. He had grown a soft spot for you but he didnât care, he loved your soft heart and the sweet sounds you made whenever he felt a little flirtatious then normal.
You were slowly healing the wounds that his regenerative powers could not and Logan couldnât help but be thankful that you didnât give up on him, nor leave him alone when you probably shouldâve but wouldnât because you didnât want him to be alone anymore.
He isnât one for pda, the most Logan would do was sling an arm over your shoulder, keep you close by his side with his arm on your waist as he glared at anyone who was tempted to take his little sunshine from him.
You described him as moody, temperamental, stubborn, a pain in the ass and then called him a grey storm cloud on a sunny day. Many would say that they were all negative things but youâd then reply with âyet they all look good on him.â Because it was true. They did look good on him and you werenât about to express pride in the good you see in him without acknowledging that he was a man of many flaws and scars. You wanted to show that your love for Logan was genuine and real, show him that you werenât excepting him to be the perfect man with the life heâs lived, and you hoped that he could see that he meant everything to you.
And he did see because you meant everything to him in return, heâd tear everything apart with his bare hands if anything were to ever happen to you and he wasnât nearby to stop it. He was like an unstoppable force to be reckoned with that he wouldnât even acknowledge the bullet wounds nor the blood, not until you cup his face once more in your hands and wipe away the blood on his cheeks like you have plenty of times before.
âYou sure are a mucky pup Logan.â Youâd say lightheartedly as though he didnât just tear apart an entire facility for you.
âHow you arenât fazed by this Iâll never know.â He replied but was relived to see that you were unharmed before pulling you into his arms, where he held you tightly to his chest just to breath you in while you cling to him in return, happy to see him as you felt safe and sound in his arms again.
âWell when your lumberjack of a partner is the temperamental type, it kinda comes with the territory to expect him to come home a little bloody.â You told him as you burrowed your head into his neck and closed your eyes, only to squeal in surprise when Logan pinched your side. âFor someone whoâs sweet and gentle, you sure are a sneaky shit arenât you?â Logan said as he felt you silently giggle but couldnât help but smile himself as he presses a kiss to your head. Happy to have been given a second shot a life, a happier shot and with you no less.
#mcu x y/n#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu imagine#marvel x y/n#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#wolverine imagine#wolverine imagines#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#Logan howlett imagines
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okay so this is an idea Iâve seen brought up maybe once before, but maybe Jason (before the Bats find out who he is) accidentally lets something slip that makes them realize that heâs literally, like, a child (seventeen, sixteen, Iâm not sure how old he is at that point exactly, but either works)
and Bruce âadoption addictionâ Wayne promptly looks at this obviously traumatized teenager and decides that he should adopt Red Hood.
I just think Jason would be so confused (maybe a little pissed too)
Iâve touched on that a little bit in What youâre longing for (you claim to abhor)!
I think this trope is wayyy underrated. Like, Jason is still so, so young. Basically a child. Even if he died at sixteen and then spent two years with the league (even if weâre counting the time he spent dead as aging). Heâs barely even legal when he returns to Gotham. Or if weâre being generous letâs say heâs nineteen.
Doesnât matter, heâs barely out of his teens (maybe heâs still IN his teens if you bend the timeline of your fic a little) and heâs experienced horrors that would have most people become utterly unable to function. But Jason? That boy takes his trauma and channels it into anger. Which, not exactly healthy, but well.
Anyway, getting off topic:
YES. Jason is still basically a kid when he debuts as the Red Hood, and you know what else he is? A good boy whoâs not gonna touch any alcohol until heâs officially 21.
âBut why would he do that? He grew up in Crime Alley! Ainât nobody got time for age limitations!â
Hear me out! Letâs assume he grew up in a household where his father, Willis Todd, drank quite a lot on the regular in addition to his momâs addiction. Jason experienced the aftermath of this (perhaps domestic violence?) every time his dad returned from a job/jail and he grew to loathe any and all substances, including alcohol. Knowing Jason and his convictions it wouldnât be too far fetched to assume heâd never touch a single drop of alcohol at all.
So thatâs one way he could slip up while taking to his goons (and having the bats overhear) or even straight up talking to one of them where maybe Dick banters a bit and goes âHey, perhaps you should chill out a bit. Have a drink maybeâ and Jason just instinctively goes âFuck you Dickwing, Iâm seventeen/eighteen/nineteen! Iâm not allowed to drink!â
And Dick justâ bluescreens. And immediately goes to tell Bruce, obviously.
OR
The Bats assume Jason is this old guy (Bruceâs or Drathstrokeâs age maybe) and consequently they keep alluding to things that happened way before Jason was ever even born and at first heâs so? Confused??? But eventually it just gets really annoying and eventually he justâ snaps.
âHow the fuck would I know which Nokia gen hit the market that year? I was born in fuckinâ XXXX, Iâm an iPhone kid!â
âStop referencing the Cold War dipshit, Iâm fucking seventeen! Iâm glad I remember my own damn birthday!â
âI donât know, I was likeâ two back then.â
Bruce, obviously, would take .1 seconds to realize:
âOmg. Thatâs- thatâs a whole child. Thatâs a whole damn TRAUMATIZED child, killing people and sawing off heads. Omg someone must have hurt him so bad. Donât worry tho, son, Batmanâs got you. You wonât have to hurt anybody ever again. Weâre here for you. Would you like the room next to Timâs or Dickâs?â
Meanwhile Jason: âwhat the fuckâ
#ghost talks#lmao Jason would be so done at this point#like pls spare him all the horrible references he doesnât understand#heâs gen z#and everyone is suddenly using boomer memes#and heâs so lost#dick isnât helping#jason todd#batfamily#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#robin#tim drake#red hood#fic#batdad#good dad bruce wayne#brainstorming
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Unspoken affection | {SaneGiyuu}
Theme:Â FLUFF
Note: i, for the first time, will see if I can try writing this as if it wasn't a oneshot meaning they won't already like each other bc it'll end up like 3 words if they do
A sprinkle of ObaMitsu
I started this Feb. 23, apparently đ mar.29 when i finished ;;
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu had been one of the first Hashira. The third, in fact. After Tengen and Gyomei.
He gotten along well with them, although... 'getting along' were relative words. More so, they tolerated each other. Giyuu didn't really talk much, opted to stay silent. Gyomei was comfortable with that and Tengen appeared not to mind because, though he was very talkative, he preferred when it was quieter as his hearing was sensitive.
So, Giyuu got along with the Hashira, mostly. Kanae came along sometime later. She was very cheerful and the polar opposite of Giyuu, but she was kind and didn't mind his quietness. He found that he didn't mind her presence much, albeit he still acted the same.
And then Sanemi arrived.
He was like the disruption of the peace created within the Hashira. It was irritating.
When he went to his first meeting, he had erupted in anger at Kagaya and had been shouting at him. It was loud. And then, after the meeting had ended, the other Hashira had berated him for this.Â
Giyuu had stood by the side, deciding not to meddle with Sanemi. If he was always going to be an... explosive pomeranian, Giyuu should steer clear from this man.
Which was what he did. Mostly.
But it became obvious that it wouldn't be very easy when Sanemi decided to start bothering Giyuu, pestering him about being so quiet and unanswering. Normally, Giyuu would've ignored these irksome questions, but Sanemi was annoyingly persistant. And so, so very loud. Which was why he worked up the courage to respond, only to be talked over.Â
And thus began Giyuu's hate for Sanemi.Â
ĂĂĂ
When Sanemi had first become a Hashira, he had found himself in an almost feverish state. He was constantly tired and worked almost like a robot, doing things as if he had been programmed to. There were few times he felt like he could escape that, feel actually human again.
He found anger was a nice fuel of humanity to him, so he took it out on others, reveling at the feeling of temporary normalcy that came with it. It went away quickly and silence often brought back his numb, robotic state back, so he snapped at nearly everybody, making himself rather loathed personality-wise.
He didn't mind, not really. The only person he could care about what they thought of him was Masachika. And he was dead. So it really did not matter.
There was one Hashira whom he had decided to bother more than the others. Giyuu Tomioka, the Water Hashira. He was a really quiet person, rarely responding or speaking unless necessary. Because of Giyuu's ignorance, Sanemi found himself hovering around him more, feeling almost refreshed when immediate mirrored anger wasn't repelled back at him. It was annoying, of course. But annoyance meant he could feel. And feeling meant being... as okay as he could be.
Giyuu spoke only a couple times to him in response. Four, to be exact. His voice was quiet and collected, but a hint of irritation could be detected if you really paid attention. He was an interesting person, so full of mysteries and so closed off. Something else, besides his unbroken silence, drew Sanemi in. Like an old box in the far corner of the house, waiting to be opened and explored, except nobody was allowed to open it. Nobody was willing to, either. As if afraid something horrid would come out. Albeit it looked innocent on the outside, there was the small chance it would be filled with something terrible. To the point that even the box itself feared it's own being and refused to open up.
But Sanemi was curious.
Time flew on as usualâit never did stop, not for anyone or anythingâand Sanemi grew less mechanical, more human. He found himself able to make skips in his usual schedule, able to live a bit more freely, despite his tightly programmed daily life.
He would use his occasional free time to wander around. He rarely actually spoke to anyone, only giving or following orders, occasionally engaging in small talk with some of the Hashira. But other than that, he kept to himself.
He was curious about Giyuu, however, which brought a bit of searching into his free time.
He would walk around, down random paths, looking for new places. Giyuu was one of the few Hashira's houses whom nobody knew where it was. Kanae's was free for anyone's knowledge, given that it was used for nursing people back to health often. Tengen invited the Hashira to his house from now and then, Kyojuroâwho had become a Hashira recentlyâwasn't closed off about sharing and, though he didn't display it to the world, he did tell people if they asked.
Even Sanemi's, a select few knew.
But Giyuu's.
Giyuu's was only known to his crow, at this point, as he usually declined giving the knowledge to anyone. And something about that was peculiar to Sanemi. Like, what if there was an emergency? Would Giyuu simply live with the fact that whatever could happen might happen because nobody knew where he lived?
Although, it wasn't the worst thing possible, it was just something that set Giyuu aside from the others.
There was a lot that separated the Hashira from each other, of course. But Giyuu had something else that just... caught Sanemi's eye. Over and over again.
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu found himself growing more and more distant with the Hashira with each passing day. They already kept to themselves mostly, none of their schedules really overlapping, so it wasn't much different. But he started to avoid more so than mind his own business.
As the years past, more Hashira joined. Giyuu didn't feel connected to them, didn't feel like he could be like any of them. It was noticeable. And some of the Hashira tried to include him.
Although, include was a relative word. Some of them were kinder with it, but there were obviously those who were more... forceful. Like Sanemi.
Sanemi was, and had been since the day he'd became a Hashira, one of the mostâor the mostâirritating Hashira. He seemed apt to making Giyuu's life feel like that of a rat being chased by a cat, but not as life-threatening. Unless you counted going insane as life threatening.Â
One day, Sanemi had gone up to Giyuuâsomehow having found him as he finished training somewhere in the clearing of a forest.
"Oi, Tomioka," he shouted, over the rush of water. There was a river, a loud one at that, that cut through the forest and skimmed along the edge of the field that Giyuu had found.
Giyuu turned. The weather was hot, so he had taken off the top of his uniform, folding that and his haori and placing it aside.Â
Deciding not to question why Sanemi was here, he cocked his head in question. "What?"
Sanemi seemed taken aback that he'd been responded to, but went on. "Uhm. Kanroji said that she wanted to invite all the Hashira on some shit sleepover and said I had to ask you to come," he said impatiently, his eyes flicking up and down, as if inspecting Giyuu.
"Oh. I won't go," Giyuu murmured. There was no reason to. It wasn't like the Hashira would actually want him to go.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "I figured."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Because Kanroji would get mad if I didn't. Which would induce ear-piercing cries about why," Sanemi snorted, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms. He was sweating and the air was humid today, causing his hair to stick onto his skin.Â
"Ah."Â
Giyuu sheathed his katana, pulling his hair out of the ponytail to adjust it.
Sanemi watched him curiously, as if there was something to figure out.Â
"What?" Giyuu asked, upon noticing this.Â
"You never take down your hair," Sanemi said simply.Â
He was a lot less shout-y today, it was unsettling, almost.Â
"Okay."Â
They lapsed back into silence as Giyuu re-tied his hair back up, his hands sticky with sweat. The only sounds were of the rush water and the occasional bird from up ahead.
Sanemi wasn't leaving, which was curious. Especially since his eyes seemed to be tracking Giyuu, as if he was put in charge to guard him.
"...do you need anything?" Giyuu asked finally, growing uncomfortable.
"No," Sanemi murmured, turning away.Â
Confused, Giyuu watched as Sanemi left, without so much of an explanation. Odd.
ĂĂĂ
Fuck.
That day, that one day, that one stupid fucking day.
The sleepover thing was a lie. There hadn't been any sleepover. It had been an excuse to find Giyuu.Â
Sanemi hadn't figured he'd have any luck, so when he'd seen Giyuu there he'd instinctively called out to him. He'd managed to hide his surprise enough and masked it with the question he'd made up. Luckily, Giyuu had shot it down. Because if he hadn't...
But that was beside the point. It wasn't the question that made Sanemi panic. No, of course it wasn't.
It was the fact that when he had seen Giyuu there, he had... felt. Something. Something different.
Usually, anger was his key to reality. But, then, he hadn't been angry then. He had felt something else, something true. He couldn't distinguish it, being in some stupid trance when he'd felt it. But he knew that it was different.
So now he was tearing at his hair, wishing he'd figure it out because it was eating him alive now, and had been since the day he'd seen Giyuu there.Â
Giyuu without his-
No.
No, he wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't picture how Giyuu looked with his hair down, no shi... Shit. He shouldn't be thinking like this. He wouldn't!
Fuck.
Sanemi stood and grabbed his katana, pushing it into his belt and gritting his teeth in frustration. He stomped to the front of his house, slamming the door open and unsheathing his katana.Â
He brought the sword above his head and slashed down.
One. Two. Three.
Don't think about Giyuu. Don't think about him.
Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.
You hate him, remember? He's stupid.
Thirty six. Thirty seven. Thirty eight.
His boring responses and his way of ignoring.
Sixty four. Sixty five. Sixty six.
The way he distances himself, how he doesn't talk.
Ninety eight. Ninety nine. One hundred.
His stupid blue eyes and stupid black hair.
One hundred and forty one. One hundred and forty two. One hundred and forty three.
His stupid voice you want to hear every day. His stupid mouth you want to-
Sanemi threw his katana down in frustration, kicking the handle and making it skid away, hitting a small boulder a few feet from him.
He ran his hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip furiously until it bled.
"Goddammit," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth.Â
He sighed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. Fuck. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi's uncharacteristic behavior had caught Giyuu's attention. It wasn't in his full interest, of course, but it was enough to make him curious. Yes, the weather had been hot and it made some people drowsy but... it hadn't ever visibly affected Sanemi enough to make him so quiet and... yeah.Â
Which made Giyuu wonder, was Sanemi ever quiet? The only time he could think of the scarred Hashira being silent was... when in Kagaya's presence. Meaning, only twice a year. Which meant it was very rare.Â
So, upon this realization, Giyuu decided he would try to figure it out. It wouldn't hurt to try getting along with Sanemi, right? Besides, maybe that would mean less yelling. And he would have something to do.
For a while, he forgot he was going to find out the reason of Sanemi's random personality slip, as it had completely left his mind; Sanemi wasn't exactly a priority to him.
But then he ran into Sanemi again one day, who seemed to be in a subdued mood, not even bothering to acknowledge Giyuu.
They were in the middle of a town, though, so it wasn't completely unreasonable.Â
Giyuu watched Sanemi carefully for a bit, before turning to continue buying his food.
Once he had paid and left, he turned back, noticing Sanemi instantly. He approached him cautiously, looking up curiously at the store the Wind Hashira had walked into. A sweets store? For pastries, mochis, and bread? Was he buying something for someone?
Giyuu hovered inside the store uncomfortably. A woman glanced at him and he quickly adjusted his haori over his katana; when people saw it, they usually called for security. He would know from experience.
Sanemi appeared to have noticed him immediately as he gave Giyuu an annoyed look, picking up a box of mochi that had been put down for him on the counter.
He walked towards the exit, muttering to Giyuu as he passed.Â
"The hell are you doing here?" he hissed between his teeth, his voice low.
The store was filled with a low chatter by the people around them and Giyuu quickly followed Sanemi out, deciding he didn't want to stay in this enclosed space with an almost intoxicating smell of sugar.
Back outsideâand thank god for the fresh airâGiyuu and Sanemi walked quietly, side by side, through the streets.
The box, Giyuu noticed, was full of ohagi. Who liked ohagi? Mitsuri, maybe? He wasn't aware that Sanemi and Mitsuri were on good terms.Â
They continued in silence for a couple minutes until they reached a part that wasn't as crowded.
Sanemi stopped then, resulting in Giyuu stopping as well. They turned to each other and Sanemi glared at him.
"Were you stalking me or something? I saw you staring, earlier," Sanemi said, crossing his arms, the box of ohagi clutched in one hand.
"I wasn't," Giyuu mumbled.
"Right." Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Why'd you follow me into the bakery, then? You didn't buy shit."
Remembering the ohagi, Giyuu changed the subject. "Who is the ohagi for?"
"...The fuck does that have to do with anything? And it's not for anyone, I'm eating it"âhe uncrossed his arms here, tapping the boxâ"And you didn't answer my question, dipshit."Â
Completely ignoring the last part, Giyuu said, surprised, "You like sweets?"
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "And you like ignoring me. What the hell does my taste in food have to do with shit??"
Giyuu frowned. If Sanemi ate things like ohagi often, why wasn't he nicer? Like Mitsuri!Â
"Oi, you going to answer my question?" Sanemi snapped, waving the box in front of Giyuu's face.
"What question?" Giyuu asked, drawing blank.Â
Sanemi groaned. "I can't tell if you're really that stupid, or if you're just pretending."
"I'm... not pretending," Giyuu mumbled, confused.
"Goddammit, never-fucking-mind," Sanemi sighed, turning. "I'm going to go. Don't follow me."
Giyuu's frown deepened but he nodded, watching Sanemi walk away.
Sanemi was in a peculiar mood that way. Although he was still as fiesty as ever, he didn't shout as much as usual. His voice was quieter. It was almost pleasant. Almost.
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu had been quite talkative that day. Had a randomly curious nature, followed by a million questions. Sanemi couldn't tell if he liked this or if he hated it. On the one hand, it was nice to hear Giyuu's voice a bit more. On the other, he was being ignorant and nosy as fuck. But... he seemed curious as to what Sanemi was doing. Was he interested in-
No. That was stupid thinking, and being a Hashira did not allow stupid thinking!Â
Sanemi had been deep in thought about all of this for a couple hours now and was eating his ohagi whilst he walked towards... Where was he again?
He looked around, confused, and found himself standing admist a bamboo forest, water from a supposed river could be heard in the background. There was a house, a little ways forward, which was nestled comfortably in a small man-made clearing in the forest. The ground was gritty, like thickly packed sand, and it made a slight crunching sound as Sanemi walked towards the house, curious.
He'd never been here before.Â
He looked around, his eyes catching onto everything. Then he realized there was approaching him from behind and he turned, noticing the motion of a person, entering the clearing. He quickly hid by the side of the house, waiting for the person.
Their footsteps were moderate but precise, and they grew closer to the house before pausing and suddenly moving quickly to where Sanemi hid.
Fuck.
But then the person came into view and...
"Tomioka?"
Giyuu blinked at him, his hand dropping from his katana. "What are you doing here, Shinazugawa?" he asked quietly, his brilliant blue eyes flicking over Sanemi as if he was searching for an answer written upon his body.
"I was just walking and ended up here somehow." Then, with a realization, Sanemi said, "Do you live here?"
Giyuu gave a hesitant nod. "I wasn't aware I told anyone of this place."
"You didn't. I don't know fuck where I am," Sanemi said, retreating from his hiding spot to stand in front of Giyuu.Â
"Ah. Hello, again," Giyuu murmured. He turned, walking to his front door and unlocking it, opening the door.Â
Sanemi nodded, standing awkwardly.
Giyuu glanced at him. "Are you busy?" he asked.
"No," Sanemi said. "My next mission is just patrol shit, and it shouldn't be too far."
"Okay. Do you want to come in?" Giyuu offered, stepping inside.
Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to drug me with tea?"
"...What?"Â
"Nevermind. Sure."Â
Giyuu nodded, motioning for him to come inside.
The interior of Giyuu's house was modest, kept mostly simpleâwhich made sense given that the Hashira didn't usually devote their time to decorating their house. Except Mitsuri, maybe.
Sanemi closed the door behind him, looking around. "Why do you never tell anyone about your house?" he asked, absentmindedly.
Giyuu didn't respond, getting something from a different room.
Sanemi sighed. "You don't like responding, do you?" he asked pointedly, following Giyuu into what appeared to be the kitchen.
Giyuu glanced at him, then handed the albino male a teapot. Steam was filtering through the top, making Sanemi's hand feel humid and hot. He placed it on the knee-high table, confused why he'd been handed it. Giyuu gave him two cups in following and he poured the tea into them, watching the steam swirl and dissipate into the air.
Sanemi picked up one of the cups, the warmth from the tea seeping through the cup and warming his hands. Giyuu sat down across from where Sanemi stood, picking up his own cup.
It was silent as the two Hashira sipped their tea, neither having anything to say. Sanemi looked up, taking in the sight of Giyuu who sat quietly, his cup clasped in his hands, his eyes cast down, watching the swirl of the liquid. He looked cute this way, really. He always looked so subdued but it was adorable.
Honestly, something must be horrible wrong with Sanemi if he was thinking like this. He couldn't stop, somehow. Which was irritating to himself, almost worrying, really. Mostly annoying. He didn't want to be thinking about Giyuu 24/7, didn't want to be unable to look at Giyuu without falling into a fucking puddle.
He was fighting so hard to keep his composure at the moment, hoping beyond hope his face wasn't red. It was so fucking stupid, to look at Giyuu and think, God that man is so beautiful. Had he, or had he not, hated him before? Albeit, it hadn't truly been hate...
"What?"Â
Sanemi looked up at the sound of Giyuu's voice, startled by the sudden noise in the previously hushed room.
Giyuu was staring at him, his eyes wide. It was tripping to see him whenever he showed emotion. It was unnatural on his face.
"What?" Sanemi asked. He placed his cup down on the table, having finished his tea a couple minutes ago.
Giyuu's mouth opened and closed soundlessly before saying, quietly, "You... think I'm pretty?"
Sanemi blinked. "The fuck are you-" ...Oh. Oh, oh god, he must've said it out loud, he must've told Giyuu without even realizing that-
Giyuu put his cup down as well, biting his lip. His face was mostly impassive, though, and it made everything... so much worse.
"No. I, uhm, I didn't... I didn't mean to say that-" Sanemi stuttered, worsening matters. He should've just said it was a joke, or something, what the hell was wrong with him? He was stumbling over himself, backing away. Why was he so nervous? This was Giyuu, for fucks sake! He didn't actually care! ...Right?Â
Giyuu stood as well, nearly knocking down the table in the process. He steadied it and moved forwards, reaching an arm out to grab Sanemi's wristâinstinctively, most likelyâbut Sanemi had retreated already, was out the door and heading towards the front.Â
Giyuu followed him quickly, stopping him before he opened the door.
"Shinazugawa?"Â
And then it was like words suddenly stopped existing and Sanemi froze, his eyes flicking around nervously. "W...What?" he asked, his voice meek and timid. Disgusting. Why was he being like this? God, he needed help. What the fuck.
"Did you... Did you mean it?" Giyuu mumbled, his hand clasped around Sanemi's wrist. The feel of his palm was warm and, though his hands were calloused from years of training, his hand was almost soft.Â
"Mean what?" Stupid. This was stupid, Sanemi was stupid, everything was-
"What you said about... me."Â
Yes. He meant it. Meant more than that.Â
"No."
"Oh."
Giyuu let go of Sanemi's wrist and his arm fell to his side.
There was an awkward moment of silence and then-
"...sorry. Bye, Shinazugawa," he said quietly, opening the door for Sanemi and backing away slightly.
Sanemi didn't move for a second, his body feeling numb for no reason.Â
"Are you leaving?" Giyuu asked uncertainly.
"...Yes," Sanemi said, regaining feeling in his body and quickly making his way out.Â
He shut the door behind him, walking quickly through the clearing and back onto the path outside of it. He looked from his left to right then, deciding he didn't know where the hell he was, turned left and broke out into a slow run, his pace quickening by the second.
As he ran, he felt as if his lungs had deflated, and he breathed heavily through his mouth, as if suddenly he had lost the ability to run.Â
What the hell was that? Why had he acted like that? What the fuck was wrong with him?
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu was in a panic. He was panicking because:
1. Sanemi had found his house somehow.
2. Sanemi had been quiet for the longest time possible for him.
3. Sanemi had been drinking tea with Giyuu inside Giyuu's house... quietly.
4. Sanemi said that Giyuu was beautiful... then went on to deny it.
5. Sanemi had been so awkward.
6. Sanemi had then proceeded to run away after Giyuu had caught hold of his arm.
What the hell had just happened?!
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi was also panicking. Waaay worse.Â
He found Obanai quickly and, in the most incomprehensible way, recounted what had happened.
Obanai stared at him, confused and irritated. "What? Will you slow the fuck down and catch your breath first?"
Sanemi ignored him, deciding to explain in a faster way. "I think I like Tomioka."
Obanai crossed his arms. "Okay?"
"'Fuck you mean, 'okay'?!" Sanemi snapped.Â
"It was obvious that you liked him, idiot," Obanai said. He rolled his eyes. "Is that all? A stupid revelation everyone but you already knew? If so, I will be with Kanroji, thank you very much."
"Oh my god, think about something other than your girlfriend for once!!!" Sanemi groaned. "And what the fuck do you mean, 'everyone already knew'? I didn't even know!"
"Riiighttt, this is a massive waste of my time, I'll be off now," Obanai said, turning away.Â
"Bitch," Sanemi grumbled, watching Obanai practically skip off to Mitsuri.
He sighed, sitting down on the ground, leaning against a random tree that just so happened to be there.
He buried his face in his hands, wishing he knew the answers to the world. And wishing he wasn't thinking about Giyuu.
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi had suddenly become a person that Giyuu could be more than mildly interested in, someone he needed to find something out about but he didn't quite know what. And given that Sanemi had basically run away from him the last time they'd met, Giyuu opted to talk to Obanai about Sanemi.
Upon approaching him and asking him about Sanemi, Obanai simply said, "He fell in love with someone," and gave no other explanation before leaving.
Almost frustrated by this response, Giyuu searched for someone else who could tell him a little something about the Hashira he'd always wanted to avoid.
He went to Mitsuri next, whom was known for her friendliness and perhaps she had managed to speak a bit with Sanemi before.
She didn't say much, only burst into a fit of giggling when he asked about Sanemi.
Giyuu just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.Â
Mitsuri told him, then, that perhaps Sanemi was acting like this because he liked someone.
Which only made it all the more annoying.
Shinobu, Tengen and Kyojuro only gave similar answers to those of Obanai's and Mitsuri's. So, Giyuu gave up asking the Hashira and quickly tracked down Genya.
Genya was surprised to hear the question.
"Aniki?" he'd said. "What do you mean?"
"Yes. That's what he said. Then he left," Giyuu said blandly.
"Oh. Uhm." Genya hesitated. "I don't know. I don't know him as well as I used to."Â
"Oh."
There was a moment of silence.
"What do you know about him, then? Be it not of his present self," Giyuu asked.
"Uhh... He's really good with children! He cared for me and my younger siblings really well, as if he was our father," Genya said, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "He was really kind. I remember he would do anything to help Mother when she needed it, even did most of the things she usually did just so she could sleep well that night."
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "He sounds very different."
Genya frowned. "I'm sure he's still like that..."
"Mhm. Go on."
"Alright. Uhm..." Genya then proceeded to go on a rant about the most random facts about Sanemi, from his favorite foodâohagiâto the friends he'd had in the past.
Giyuu listened with interest, not realizing there could be so much character to a man who seemed to make it his life goal to annoy people.
At the end of Genya's rant, he had said, "he might like you, you know, if he said that. Or he was thinking about someone else?" Genya concluded, referring to Sanemi calling him beautifulâthen claiming he didn't mean it.
"Like me?..." Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mhm!" Genya waved, walking away. "Tell me if anything happens!"
"Alright..." Giyuu watched him leave, then turned back to his own thoughts.Â
Like him? Why would anyone like Giyuu? And, of all people, Sanemi! Although, it would tie together with what the Hashira had said, given that they'd all said that Sanemi had 'fallen in love.'Â
But... how? And why?
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi successfully managed to avoid Giyuu for about three days before he was found. He had been walking down a path after his mission, on his way home, when he ran into Giyuu. Giyuu, as it turned out, had had a mission near Sanemi's and had also been on his way home.Â
"Shinazugawa?"
Sanemi's heart stopped. Fuck.Â
Giyuu was standing there, his expression all innocent and unassuming and... God. Yes, yes he looked like a fucking god.Â
"What?" Sanemi snapped, fighting against the heat that rose in his body. Goddammit.
"I've been looking for you..." Giyuu said, stepping forwards to be face to face with the Wind Hashira, his gaze curious, a contrast to his usually impassive expression.
"...Why?" It's not because he's interested, it is not. Sanemi's eyes flicked anywhere but to Giyuu's face and he pursed his lips uncertainly.
"I wanted to ask you about something," Giyuu replied, tilting his head slightly. "...Why won't you look at me?"
"Why the fuck are you so talkative?!" Sanemi asked, his voice coming out more irritated than he'd intended. His heart seemed to be working again; or maybe not. It beat quickly, too quickly, and his breath came out forced and quick.Â
"Are you okay?" Giyuu's voice was concerned, he frowned. "Your face is red..."
"Fuck off. It's... 'cause I was running a lot. And you aren't answering me," Sanemi mumbled, turning his face away.
"Oh." Giyuu paused, seemingly forgetting what he was doing here. "I wanted to ask you some-"
"I get it, you want to ask me something. Get the fuck on with it! I don't have time to waste on your shitty ass," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. Why was he acting like this, as if he could barely control his emotions anymore. It was stupid, and annoying.
"...Sorry." Giyuu pouted. "Do you... like me?"
Sanemi froze. "What?"Â
"Do you like me?..." Giyuu repeated.
"No, I heard you, don't fucking repeat it," Sanemi gritted out. "Why the hell would you ask that?!"
"...I was... wondering about your behavior. It was peculiar and I... couldn't fathom why you had acted like that," Giyuu said quietly. "I asked the Hashira and your brother and... they all said you liked someoneâthough Genya said that, more specifically, you might like... me?"
"I..." Sanemi was at loss for words. He couldn't like Giyuu! Not that stupid, quiet, bitchass bastard! Except, it would make sense. It would explain why he always felt so... Oh my god, he needed to get out of here. He couldn't bear having Giyuu's annoyingly pretty eyes staring at him curiously, as if he hadn't just dropped the worst question he ever could.Â
"No. No, I hate you! I don't like you! Fuck off!" Sanemi shouted, turning and quickly running off, not looking back.
Fuck.
ĂĂĂ
There was something wrong with Giyuu.
When Sanemi had left, shouting that he didn't like him, Giyuu had felt a pang in his chest. As if he was disappointed.
Why would he be? He'd never cared much what Sanemi said before. And yet...Â
And yet now he suddenly cared, suddenly wished to know why. Why what? Why everyone claimed Sanemi had fallen in love? Why Sanemi had called him beautiful? Why Sanemi seemed to hate him so much? Why he felt like it all actually mattered?Â
He had trudged home, nearly bumping into several trees in the process. Then he had flopped onto his futon and proceeded to stare at the cealing, re-thinking his life. The image of Sanemi from earlier flashed in his memory. Sanemi, his cheeks flushed,âfrom running???âhis eyes averted and face scrunched from anger. He looked like an angry dog, really. But cuter.Â
Wait. What?
No, no, not cute. Sanemi was never cute.
Giyuu sighed, dropping a hand onto his forehead and running his hand through his hair, closing his eyes. What the fuck was wrong with him?
ĂĂĂ
It was dark and raining, though the air was warm. Sanemi was trudging through a muddy forest without a clue to where he was going, exhaustion dragging him down. He was soaked to the bone and shivering despite the warm weather. As he walked, he noted that somebody was somewhere around him. He kept his guard up, quieting his footsteps as he continued on. Then, at an intersection of the path, he bumped into... Genya.
Genya had his arm over his head and had apparently only just noticed Sanemi, skittering backwards in his surprise. "A-... Aniki?!" Genya said, startled.Â
Sanemi grumbled. Of course it was him. "What?" he asked, irritated.
"Uhm. I was on a mission," Genya mumbled.
"What, are you going to bleed to death now??" Sanemi said, noticing the blood staining Genya's clothing. "Quit the fucking Corps if you're going to be so useless at your job."
"No! I'm fine! It's a light wound. And I won't quit!! I'm not useless!" Genya insisted, pouting.
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Then get your ass to Kocho's. I don't want to deal with you right now," he said, turning away from his (not) brother and stalking away.
"Wait- Aniki-" Genya called out, following him.
"Fuck off! And I'm not your brother!" Sanemi snapped, not turning to look at him.
"Please-"
"Shut the actual fuck up," he said, turning and pushing Genya to the ground.
Genya slipped on the mud and fell on his back. He frowned but stopped following Sanemi who walked away, through the forest.
Sanemi looked around, trying to figure out where the hell he was. He noticed a path that looked vaguely familiar to the left and he followed it, his steps slow. He let out an exaggerated sigh every now and then, wishing he could just stop Genya from being Genya for once.
He looked up and found that, as the path went on, there was one part that entered into what looked like a bamboo forest. Ah. Giyuu's house.
He contemplated going inside for a minute before deciding to just walk past it, not wanting to deal with Giyuu asking if... No, he wouldn't finish the sentence.
So he trudged on. Then, to his luck, he heard his name being called out. He turned with a sigh, meeting Giyuu's gaze. "What is it?" he asked, his voice coming out harsher than intended.
"Uhm. Shinazugawa, what're you doing outside now?" Giyuu asked. "It's raining, you should get inside unless you want to get a cold."
"Yeah, well, I have no fucking idea where I am. I'll be fine," Sanemi said, shaking his head.Â
"Come inside!" Giyuu insisted. "I have a mission I have to get to in a bit, I think, but it'll be fine. You can stay here so Kocho doesn't kill you for getting sick."
"Fair enough..." Sanemi sighed, caving in. He followed Giyuu inside, slipping off his shoes.Â
"You should bathe and change," Giyuu said, looking Sanemi up and down. "I'll put extra clothing and a towel in the bathroom and make an extra futon for you."
"Alright. Thanks," Sanemi said, wondering why the hell Giyuu was talking to much.
Giyuu nodded and went off to do what he had said, leaving Sanemi standing in the hall.
ĂĂĂ
After Giyuu had made sure that Sanemi had everything he might needâputting out a tray of food next to the futon as wellâhe quickly wrote a note explaining that he would be out on a mission and that Sanemi could sleep or whatever he wanted while waiting.
He left the note on top of the futon and grabbed his haori, slipping it on. He picked up his katana, pushing it into his belt, and heading outside into the rain.
The mission was easyâthe demons being surprisingly incompetent for a Hashira to be called there. And, after making sure the surviving rank-and-file Demon Slayers were alright, he made his way home. Unfortunately he'd been held up by the other Demon Slayers so dawn was already approaching.Â
The rain had settled to a light sprinkle, almost non-existent, and the sky was brightening as the sun slowly arose.
Back home, Giyuu quickly bathed and changed, then went to look for Sanemi. He entered his room and found Sanemi entangled between the sheets of his futon. The food was half eaten and the note sat on the tray.
Giyuu almost smiled at the sight. It was really nice to see the humanity in Sanemi; it was rare. He slipped into his own futon and closed his eyes, falling asleep soon after.
ĂĂĂ
When Sanemi awoke, light was filtering through a window. He ran a hand through the mess of his hair, moving the blankets off of him. He looked to his left and saw Giyuu fast asleep. He smiledâthen quickly frowned at himself for smilingâand turned to his food, which was mostly cold now. Regardless, he ate the rest of it. Once he finished, he picked up the tray and took it to where he presumed the kitchen was, washing his bowls.
As he dried his hands, he heard Giyuu walking and turned.
Giyuu was at the doorway, looking quite illegally adorable in all his sleepiness, his hair messy as hell. He blinked wearily at Sanemi. "Good morning."
"'Morning," Sanemi returned, nodding. "It's strange to wake up actually in the morning."
Giyuu nodded back. "Mhm."
"Are you hungry?"Â
"A bit."
"Want me to make something?" he offered.
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "You can cook?"
"Don't look at me like that. Of course I can, what kind of eldest sibling would I be without knowing how to cook??" Sanemi scoffed. "I'll show you."
"I wouldn't want to bother you, it's fine," Giyuu murmured. "I can make myself something."
"What, canned tomato sauce? I'm making it. I took your question as a fucking challenge," Sanemi said, pushing Giyuu out of the kitchen. "I'm going to use whatever the hell you have in here, by the way!!"
Giyuu called back a complaint in response.Â
Sanemi grinned and started scouring the kitchen for ingredients, deciding he would make the most elaborate food he could with what he found. Literally for no reason at all.
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi had called Giyuu in to eatâafter he had waited for an hourâand now, sitting before him, was... The most food he'd seen in front of him in his life since... Since he was thirteen. No, well, not the most. But it reminded him of when Tsutako had guests over and she wanted to make the food be the best it possibly could be.
"Uhhm. Thank you..." Giyuu said, still in shock.
Sanemi smirked. "Who can't cook now?!"
"It wasn't even a challenge!" Giyuu whined.Â
"Mhmmm, well now it is! Whatever you don't eat I'm sending to Rengoku probably. Or Kanroji. Either of them will eat it without a question," Sanemi said, crossing his arms. "Now, eat."
"Why're you feeding me???" Giyuu huffed, though he sat down and picked up a fork that Sanemi had laid down for him.
"Because I never do this anymore and I was bored. And I didn't feel like training yet," he said simply, sitting down across from Giyuu. "Why, do you not want to eat?"
Giyuu shook his head. "No, no, I do. You're just being so nice today-"
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll stop being nice." He stood and walked to the other side of the table and smacked Giyuu's head. "Eat!!"
"I... I preferred you when you were nice..." Giyuu admitted, quickly starting to eat.Â
"Exactly. Besides, you can't be questioning me when you're talking as much as Rengoku today," Sanemi pointed out.
"No' af mush," Giyuu mumbled through mouthfuls of food.Â
"Hm. True. And don't talk with your mouth full or I'll squeeze the food out of you," Sanemi threatened, going back to his side of the table and plopping down.
Giyuu glared at him but finished chewing before responding. "What are you, my mom?"
"Yes, I'm your mom now. Manners!!" Sanemi shouted, picking up a piece of bread and chucking it at Giyuu.
"Hey- Parents don't do that- I think-" Giyuu whined, picking up the bread and putting it on the table.Â
"You 'think'??" Sanemi asked incredulously, starting to eat.
"My sister raised me," Giyuu said with a shrugâthen realized what he said and quickly stuffed food in his mouth, wishing he wasn't being so open suddenly. Something about Sanemi's atmosphere today just made him so comfortable, though. His teasing mannerâand not in a rude way. Like... Sabito.
"Ah. Nice," Sanemi murmured, picking up a cup and filling it with tea.Â
"Mm. Thanks for the food, again," Giyuu said, giving him a slight smile.
Sanemi raised his eyebrows at the smile, but said nothing of it, simply nodding. "Sure."
ĂĂĂ
Back at his own house, Sanemi was changed in his uniform again. He laid the clothes Giyuu had let him borrow down and- Oh shit, he had taken them home- He contemplated going back to Giyuu's house, then decided he'd rather not bother and headed outside to train.
His mind was filled with thoughts of GiyuuâGiyuu's smile, his house, just him in generalâand he found it hard to concentrate on his training. So, only ten minutes after he'd started, he promptly gave up, deciding to do something else and set out on a walk.Â
Over the next few days, Sanemi found himself mostly alone. Although there was the occasional nod from Obanai when they passed by each other, he was mostly solitary. Days were busier now, with demons multiplying each second. The past dull of life seemed to have faded recently, however, which made him not mind the constant missions. In honesty, he felt relieved. But he had a feeling Giyuu had something to do with his life feeling like life again, a fact which he preferred to ignore. There was no way in hell he would ever admit to anyone that he liked Giyuu, because it was Giyuu. If it were literally anyone else, he would've just told them. But Giyuu?? The 'I'm not like you' quiet-ass bastard who was way too cute than he should be allowed to beâwho was a stupid, oblivious fuck??? Him??
Nah.
Honestly, Giyuu seemed to have it figured out though. So hopefully Sanemi wouldn't have to clarify. Because if he did, then they were better off not interacting at all.Â
ĂĂĂ
"He likes you, it's obvious," Shinobu said, rolling her eyes. She taped the bandage around Giyuu's wrist and let go of his arm. "Anyway, I'm done. Don't force your arm past its limits, know your own strength, idiot. Or weaknesses, if you may."
Giyuu blinked. "I don't think he likes me. He said he didn't."
"Does Shinazugawa seem like the type to be honest when it comes to this?" Shinobu asked, raising an eyebrow. She stood, putting away her supplies.Â
"He's annoyingly honest," Giyuu murmured, standing as well.
"Fair point. But! Keywords, 'when it comes to this.' He wouldn't just straight up say, 'Hey, I like you.' Doesn't sound like him," Shinobu said, picking up a pen and tapping Giyuu's nose with the tip of it.Â
Giyuu batted the pen away, shaking his head. "No, he seems like the type to do that."
"Hm. Not with you, then," she said, grabbing his non-injured hand and forcing the pen into it.Â
"I don't need this," Giyuu said, trying to give it back.
"You do. Sign this," Shinobu said, shoving a paper in his face.
Giyuu eyed it. "What is it?"
"You're overworking yourself. This gives you permission to have a break," she said impatiently. "Write your name there."Â
"...No. I'm alright," he said, frowning.Â
She sighed. "Worth a shot. I'll just forge your signature. Anyway, back to Shinazugawa."
"Hey-" Giyuu whined as she snatched the pen and paper back.Â
A smile as sweet as a lemon spread across her face. "Yes?"
"...You're a pain, Kocho," he grumbled, sitting back down.
"That's all? Very well, let's go back to the topic of your boyfriend. Now, tell me, do you like him?" she asked, leaning closer to him.
Heat seemed to flicker into his cheeks and he fidgetted with his sleeve. "No..."
She laughed. "I'm not Uzui but I could hear your lie from miles away."
"I'm not lying..."
"Okay, well, tell me this. Since all of this"âshe waved her hand over him, as if it would explain anythingâ"has happened, you've been, one, talking more, two, a lot more expressive, three, more distracted. And... four? You're blushing. When I asked you, you turned red."
"I did not!" Giyuu said indignantly, although he was sure he only turned redder.
"You're annoying. You're like a child," she said, exasperated. "Fine. Be it your way. But he does like you, mark my words. So if you two end up dating, I get to say 'I told you so.' Also, I better be the first person you tell."
Giyuu frowned. "We won't date. I don't like him, and I'm sure he doesn't like me."
"Suit yourself." She hit his head with a ruler that she'd apparently conjured out of nowhere. "Now get out. I have more important things to deal with."
Giyuu sighed and stood, quickly leaving before she decided to bother him again.
There was no way what she was saying was true. Why the hell would Giyuu fall for... Sanemi?! And vice versa. It just didn't make sense...
ĂĂĂ
"You're going to be the death of me," Sanemi said, sighing. Giyuu was currently on his back, clinging on for dear life, as Sanemi stalked to the ravenette's room.Â
Sanemi had finally decided to bring back Giyuu's clothesâonce he'd worked up the courage to willingly visit himâonly to find Giyuu collapsed on the ground having apparently been training for some hours and hadn't been hydrated enough.Â
"I'm sorryyy," Giyuu mumbled into Sanemi's shoulder.
"Save your apologies for Kocho, you better hope she doesn't barricade you in your room," he said, rolling his eyes. He kicked down Giyuu's bedroom door and marched inside, dropping the Hashira on his bed. "Sleep."
"I'm convinced you're trying to mother me," Giyuu said, a hand drapping over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. "First you cook me food and now you make me sleep."
Sanemi scoffed. "Your fault for being so incompetent. And I'm not your mother. What, do you want me to be? Want me to kiss you goodnight?"
Giyuu raised his arm to look at Sanemi. "Would you do it?"
His eyes were curious, a striking blue. Usually they seemed to hold no life in them, no emotion, no passion, no nothing. But there was a glint to it now, seeming to light up Giyuu's face like a beacon.Â
Sanemi swallowed. "Would you ask?"
Giyuu's lips curved in a small smile. "TouchĂŠ."
Sanemi sighed, shaking his headâmore at himself. "You're stupid."Â
"I'll sleep now," Giyuu informed him, pulling the sheets over himself.Â
"You better. I'm staying here 'till you sleep."
"What?! You creep," he whined.Â
"Either that or I tell Kocho," Sanemi said, set on his decision.
"...Fine, stalk me all you want," Giyuu said, frowning and closing his eyes.
Sanemi smiled to himself, leaning against the wall and waiting.
The room drew to a quiet hum, the only sound being the two Hashira's breathing. After a while, Giyuu's breath finally calmed into a slow, settled sleep, his face relaxed and soothed.
Sanemi stepped towards the bed quietly, hovering over him. He knelt beside Giyuu and, once he decided that he really was asleep, started to step away. Then he paused, his eyes trailing to Giyuu's lips.Â
He immediately struck down the idea, mentally berating himself for even thinking it. He parted the dark locks resting on Giyuu's forehead, placing a gentle kiss there before quickly fixing the Hashira's hair and retreating from the room, making his way outside.Â
The cool air hit his face as he stepped out, but he barely noticed it, heat flickering in his cheeks as he walked out of the clearing and into the path that would lead him back. God, why was he such a mess...
(i loved writing that sm)
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu was a light sleeper.Â
Anyone in the Demon Slayer Corps had to be, or they wouldn't even pass Final Selection. So, of course, he had awoken. Though he had been too sleepy to comprehend why he had woken up so randomly, and so quickly, at the time, he quickly realized it once Sanemi had left.
Now he lay, curled up in a ball, his face buried in his palms, mentally screaming. Because.. what the hell had just happened?! But... he wasn't complaining.
Wait- Why not-
He pulled the blanket over his head, engolfing himself in the darkness. No, this wasn't better. It only made his face hotter. He sat up, the cool air bursting upon him. He fanned himself, trying to calm his heartbeat.Â
Fuck, he was in love, wasn't he. He was in love, he was in love with Sanemi Shinazugawa. He was a fucking mess.
ĂĂĂ
"...You look like Tomioka just kissed you," Obanai said, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree.
Sanemi had found him, after a while, and was trying to get his thoughts together, pacing up and down on the side of the path. "He didn't! I did!"
"Wait what-" Obanai said, standing up straight and leaning towards him. "What do you mean?!"
Sanemi let out a half-sigh, half scream, raking his hand through his hair. "Not... Not fully, just on his forehead. And he was asleep. BUT STILL!!"
Obanai slumped back against the tree, rolling his eyes. "Coward," he coughed.
"Oh, shut the fuck up. It's not like you have kissed Kanroji yet," Sanemi spat, stopping in front of Obanai.
"Yeah, well, unlike you, I have still been way more successful!!" he retorted. "All you have done is eat breakfast with him!! Meanwhile, I've eaten lunch and breakfast with her many days, gone on walks with her, bought her gifts, hugged her..."
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Yet you haven't told her that you like her."
"Hey! You haven't told Tomioka either!!" Obanai pointed out.Â
"Righhttt, and who, exactly, has liked their crush for longer?? Hmm? Oh, right! You!" Sanemi laughed. "Your arguments are pitiful."
"You're freaking out about kissing Tomioka on the fucking forehead when he was asleep, don't call me pitiful," Obanai grumbled.
"Hm. Fair enough," Sanemi decided.Â
"Look, take Tomioka out on a walk or something equivalent to a date, for all I care. But if you keep ranting about how you kissed him on the forehead without him knowing then I'm going to find Tomioka and tell him how you feel. I don't give a fuck anymore," Obanai told him, moving away from the tree and walking back onto the path.
Sanemi turned towards him. "Consider it the same for you. I don't know how long I can stand hearing you talk about Kanroji. 'Oh my god! Kanroji told me we can eat lunch together, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day bef-'"
"I GET IT!!!" Obanai snapped, rubbing his temples. "Fine. You stop, I stop."
"Deal."
Sanemi grinned. "Have fun eating lunch with her again. Or, rather, watching her eat lunch."
Obanai pushed him. "Fuck off."Â
ĂĂĂ
Sanemi had kissed him. He'd kissed him, he had kissed him, oh my god, Sanemi had-
Well. It could've just been to the joke from before. About 'kissing him goodnight.' BUT STILL. AND GIYUU HAD BEEN ASLEEP(ish).
Which made it all the more... Confusing. Maybe Sanemi saw him only as a sibling or a child or something. He did keep taking care of him, which didn't even seem coincidental anymore. As if, assuming one could believe in fate, they were being purposefully brought together. Constantly in each other's ways. ...Not that Giyuu minded.
In fact, he liked spending more time with Sanemi.
The fact of which was a huge shock to himself. Hadn't he just hated Sanemi?
Well. Things always changed, no...?
Maybe this change wouldn't be bad, though. Maybe he should try embracing it.
Giyuu found himself constantly distracted by these thoughts as he went on with his days. But, surprisingly, he didn't come across Sanemi for a while. Either Sanemi was avoiding himâwhich was reasonable, yet disappointingâor their schedules just kept them apart from each other. Whatever the reason was, Giyuu ended up going in search of Sanemi, wanting to clarify the ki...
No, he wouldn't say it. Wouldn't think it. He preferred not to feel as if he would have a heart attackâan abnormal heartbeat and flushed face...
He sighed, mussing up his hair so it covered his face, continuing to walk briskly down the path. He avoided some Demon Slayers who had seemingly popped out of nowhere and were attempting to talk to them, mentally berating himself for not being careful and getting unwanted attention. Just as he was about to give up and let them talk to him, he noticed Sanemi somewhere in the close distance.
He sped up, ignoring the calls of the other Demon Slayers who trotted behind him.
Sanemi looked up upon all the noise and seemed to be holding back laughter at the sight of Giyuu's pleading gaze. He cleared his throat, grabbing Giyuu's arm and pushing him behind him.Â
"The hell do you want?" he asked the others, glaring at them.
They all shrank back. One of them spoke up timidly, his voice shaky. "W... We just wanted to talk to Water-Pillar-sama..."Â
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. See, I need him somewhere. You all can go now," Sanemi said, waving them off.
"But-"Â
"I said I need him. You said you wanted something from him. Need is more important than want, fuckers. If you don't leave now, maybe we can see how well you can weild your katanas against a Hashira," Sanemi said, a hand hovering over his katana handle.
"Shinazugawa, there's no need to-" Giyuu started.
Sanemi shushed him, turning back to the Demon Slayers. "So? What will it be?"
They seemed to hesitate for a second before deciding it wasn't worth it and collectively agreed to leave, scampering away.
Sanemi turned back to Giyuu, a smirk growing on his face. "Got people falling on themselves for you now, hm?" he teased.Â
Giyuu sighed. "Will I have to find someone else to shoo you away?" he asked.
"I was joking- The hell did they even want from you, though?" Sanemi said, crossing his arms.
"I don't know," Giyuu murmured.Â
"Right." An awkward silence spread between the two and they stared at the ground, unsure what to say.
"Uh. Now that you're free, guess I'll be taking my leave-" Sanemi said, appearing to want to dash away. His cheeks were dabbed in a dusty pink as he stepped back.
"Wait- Shinazugawa, I wanted to ask you something," Giyuu said, grabbing Sanemi's wrist as he remembered why he had been outside in the first place.
"Which is?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Giyuu paused, glancing down at his hand which was still clasped around the scarred wrist of the other Hashira. Sanemi's pulse was fast. Why?
"Uhm. A few days ago... when you told me to sleep," Giyuu started quietly, unsure how to go about it. Then, deciding that there was no use stalling, he blurted out, "Why did you kiss me?"
Sanemi stared at him, in shock apparently, then let out what sounded like a muted scream, burying his face in the hand Giyuu wasn't holding. "God, you were awake...?" he mumbled, sounding as if he was regretting everything. Which he probably was doing.
"I... woke up when you did that," Giyuu murmured.Â
"...Of course you did," Sanemi said.
Giyuu cocked his head to the side. "Can I ask you something, Shinazugawa?"
"What now...?" he said with a sigh, running his hand through his hairâor, more, tearing at his hair.
"Why is your heartbeat so fast?" Giyuu asked.
Sanemi looked up, glaring at him. "Stop asking questions I'd rather tear my chest out than answer," he grumbled.
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "What-?"
"Nevermind."
"Okay..." Giyuu let go of his wrist. "Will you answer the questions?"
Sanemi hesitated. "What happens if I don't?"
"I'll... ask Genya for help?..." Giyuu said slowly, knowing it would irritate Sanemiâand hopefully convince him to speak.
Sanemi's eyes narrowed. "Fuck, fine." He let out an exaggerated sigh, then without warning reached up and clasped his hands on either side of Giyuu's face, pulling him closer.
Giyuu's eyes widened and he felt himself flush at the proximity, his stomach deciding to do some acrobatic trick of Mitsuri's, followed by what appeared to be a bunch of Shinobu's fluttering around.
"Shinazugawa...?" he mumbled, his voice muted from his own shock.
ĂĂĂ
Do it. DO IT.
Sanemi let out a breath, his eyes searching Giyuu's. He found no sign of resistance, only question and surprise.Â
"Listen. If you hate this, just push me away. I won't resist," Sanemi advised, his tone as serious as he could force it to be with his heart flying circles in his ribcage, as if trying to break free.Â
"Do wh-"
Before Giyuu could finish, Sanemi fit his mouth against the Water user's, one hand tangling in the dark locks of Giyuu's hair, the other slipping down to his waist. He paused when he got no response, and started to move away, but then arms wrapped around his body, pulling him closer and back into the kiss.
They stumbled through the embrace, their legs tangling with one anothers. He didn't know who finally pulled away, but when they did, the two stood there, Giyuu resting his head on Sanemi's shoulder, their breaths harsh and quickânot solely from the kiss.
Then, as if just realizing what they'd done, they scrambled away from each other, looking like embarrassed puppies.
Giyuu was the first to speak, his voice meekânot that Sanemi could blame him. "Do you... like me?" he mumbled.
Sanemi frowned. "I thought I told you to stop asking me questions like that."
"Like what?"
"Questions that I'd commit seppuku before answering," he said, crossing his arms.Â
"...Sorry," Giyuu said, pouting.
"You better be. Also, the answer should be fucking obvious. If it's not, then you're stupid." Sanemi rolled his eyes, stalking towards him and grabbing Giyuu's arm. "We're going somewhere private now. C'mon."
Giyuu nodded quickly, following him. "I'm not stupid," he muttered, more to himself
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
ĂĂĂ
Since then, Giyuu and Sanemi avoided each other. Mostly from embarrassment and neither wanting to bring up the topic again. After they had left the public eye, they had made out for a bit, being too shyâwhich was definitely not a word that would usually describe either of themâto talk about anything. It had been exactly a week, two days, four hours, and thirty one minutes since they had parted waysâyes, Giyuu had been counting.
Butâfinallyâthey had decided to meet again, talk about it more formally. Rather, Sanemi had invited Giyuu to lunch and Giyuu had agreed. He stood, waiting, in front of a restaurant. Apparently Sanemi had reserved a table but had forgotten to tell Giyuu, so now he was awkwardly hovering in front of the restaurant wishing Sanemi would hurry the fuck up.Â
After a few agonizing minutes of waiting, Sanemi appeared at last, looking out of breath. His hair looked oddly neat and well keptâunlike usualâand he had a smell of flowers wafting around him.Â
"Hey," he said, nodding to Giyuu. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. Iguro wanted me to help him with something then Kanroji came by, carrying like fifty bottles of perfume and wanted to test them out on me..." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.Â
A smile crept up Giyuu's lips. "So that's why you smell as what I'd imagine a bee would during the summer?"
"Shut the fuck up," Sanemi said, opening the restaurant door and tugging Giyuu inside.
After they had found their table and ordered some food and settled down, Sanemi rested his arms on the table, clasping his hands together and turned to Giyuu. "So!" he said, as if trying to say something he most definitely did not want to say.
"Hm?"
"...I hate how little you talk," Sanemi grumbled. "You only ever talk to ask the most embarrassing shit ever."
"...sorry??"
Sanemi laughed, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "Yeah, no, nevermind. Let's just wait for the food."
Giyuu nodded, his heart beating faster than a humming bird's wings.Â
They waited in silence, conspicuously avoiding each others eyes.
When the food finally arrived, they took the opportunity to busy themselves with eating, pretending like they both had things they wanted to discuss but couldn't bring it up. Halfway through the meal, Giyuu gave up and said, abruptly, "Are we dating?"
Sanemi all but choked on his food, grasping for a cup of water. Giyuu hurried to help him, panicking.
After he had calmed down, Sanemi said, "I'm convinced you're trying to kill me, Tomioka."
Giyuu apologized again. "I didn't mean for that to happen..."
"I know. I was joking. Seriously, you really are stupid," Sanemi deadpanned.
"I'm not!" Giyuu whined.
"See, that was also a joke. Okay, maybe it wasn't. Also you sound like a child. But, uhm, back to the topic," Sanemi said, his tone switching completely.
They lapsed back into silence, staring at each other awkwardly.
"...are we, then...?" Giyuu mumbled, unsure what to make of the atmosphere.
"Uhm." Sanemi coughed, trying to think of a response. "Do you want to?"
Giyuu frowned. "Yes... Do you?"
Sanemi pushed a bowl of salmon daikon towards Giyuu, folding his hands on the table. "Then we're dating."
"What? But you never said if you-"
"I literally did, just not directly. But if you need me to spell it out to you then, yes. I do. And since you do too, apparently, then we're dating," Sanemi told him.Â
"...okay!" Giyuu said happily, taking the bowl with a small smile.
"Mm. How is your smile so small yet it lights up your whole face..." Sanemi said, resting his elbow on the table and head in his hand, laughing gently.
"I'm smiling? Sorry," Giyuu said, his lips quickly curving to its usual neutral state.
"Why sorry? Your smile isn't terrifying," Sanemi said, frowning.Â
"Kocho said it's weird," Giyuu mumbled.Â
"Well fuck her, then! It's not weird, it's... cute."Â
He flushed. "It's not cute!"
"Says you." A playful smirk rising upon Sanemi's face. "Anyways, hurry up and eat. I don't feel like waiting forever."
"Aren't you going to eat?-" Giyuu asked, looking up from his bowl.
"I finished."
"...oh."
ĂĂĂÂ (it's js sillyness from here on out)
Sanemi and Giyuu had come to a mutual agreement to not tell anyone of their relationship, or mostly keep it private. Both for the reasons of disliking gossip. From Tengen and Shinobu in specific. They were 99% sure that, if by any way, their relationship would become public knowledge, Tengen and Shinobu would have fun making up theories and teasing them day and night.
So, despite everyone somehow knowing that Sanemi liked Giyuu, the only people that knew of their relationship becoming real were Obanai and... Obanai. Just him.Â
Sanemi had said that they could tell their closest friendsâas long as they swore not to say anything. Giyuu said, quite exactly, "I don't have friends."
Which... lead to Sanemi having to comfort him.Â
But all was said and all was done and the two found ways to meet in private between missions and training, managing to keep their relationship a secret for a surprisingly long amount of time. Of course, nothing ever lasts, and the Hashira eventually caught on.Â
Sanemi was a lot better at hiding it, just snapping at Giyuu all the time like usualâwhich he assured Giyuu that whatever he said wasn't what he truly meant, until they were alone. But Giyuu, on the other hand... Well, Sanemi assumed that he'd be alright at acting given that his face was always so irritatingly impassive. He'd assumed wrong, however, and eventually found that out.
In his attempt to fulfill Sanemi's wishes to not get the word spread outâand Giyuu was dreading the time when Shinobu would find outâGiyuu kept up the act for a good couple weeks. But, since Sanemi would act a lot more affectionate with him, he was less and less used to the previously usual aggression shown to him by his boyfriend (in public) as the days past.
Needless to say, Giyuu was the reason they were exposed. Which unfortunately happened in front of the whole Hashiraâright before one of their biannual meetings with Kagaya.
ĂĂĂ
Giyuu had entered the garden a few minutes after Sanemi, on the opposite side, not wanting to cause suspicion. He stood by a tree quietly as the other Hashira trickled in.
Mitsuri bounded up to him, talking about something he wasn't necessarily listening to, his gaze set on Sanemi who was trying to obscure Obanai's eyes from seeing that Mitsuri was talking to another man.Â
Supposedly noticing the gaze, Sanemi looked up and glared at Giyuu, raising an eyebrow as if to tell him to snap out of it.
Shinobu noticed this.Â
"Ara ara, are you two fighting again? I'm surprised you haven't shouted at him yet, Shinazugawa," Shinobu commented, a sly smile forming upon her lips.
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Kocho."
"No need to be so harsh," Shinobu tutted, crossing her arms and shaking her head disapprovingly.
Gyomei agreed. "And please refrain from swearing."
Mitsuri had stopped talking, looking from one Hashira to the other.
Tengen laughed. "Well, there's been a lot less tension between Tomioka and the dog," he remarked, grinning at Sanemi.
"WHAT DOG?!?!" Sanemi shouted, stalking over to Tengen.
Obanai rolled his eyes. "Stop shouting."
Giyuu stood watching everything and wondering if he should speak given that he seemed to be apart of this argument. "What dog?"
Sanemi pointed at Giyuu, though he faced Tengen. "SEE?? THERE IS NO FUCKING DOG."
Gyomei frowned. "Do not shout, you will disturb the Master."
Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine."
Giyuu walked over to where Sanemi and Tengen stood. "Is Shinazugawa the dog?" he asked quietly.
Sanemi let out a gritted scream, looking ready to explode. Tengen looked equally like a timed bomb at its last second, although for completely different reasons.
"I'MNOTADOG!!!" Sanemi screeched, grabbing Giyuu by the shoulders and shaking him.
Giyuu ducked down, stepping away from Sanemi. "Okay."
Gyomei let out the longest sigh in history as Shinobu supressed a laugh.
"My, my, you're talking a lot today, Tomioka-San!" she said, looking up at him.
"Oh."
Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Well he should stop talking, he sounds like Uzui when his wives get a paper scratch," he said, crossing his arms.Â
"Is that supposed to be an insult?!" Tengen gasped, looking mildly offended.
"You're the one panicking when they so much as cough!!! You're all 'OH NO ARE YOU OKAY?! Nooo, KOCHO HELP ME!! DON'T DIE ON ME, PLEASE DON'T DIE ON MEâ'" Sanemi said, pitching his voice higher.Â
Giyuu frowned. "I don't sound like that," he and Tengen said in unisonâalthough Tengen with a considerably larger amount of theatrical flair.
"Oh yes you do! And I mean both of you!" Sanemi said, placing his hands on his hips.
Gyomei shook his head and went to go stand next to Muichiro who was staring at a beetle in his hand.
"...I do?" Giyuu whined.
Tengen seemed to have gotten over it quite quickly and was completely unfazed now.
"And worse!" Sanemi said, a mocking smile curving his lips.
Giyuu bit his lip, looking down.
Obanai sighed.Â
"The fuck are you looking at??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow at Giyuu who wouldn't meet his eyes.
Tengen's mouth curved into an 'o' and he backed away quickly, whispering loudly to Kyojuro, "Shinazugawa just made Tomioka cry-"
"He cries??" Kyojuro whispered back, seeming to think they were actually being quiet.
Tengen shrugged and leaned against a tree, watching.
"...Why are you crying-" Sanemi said, fighting the concern that rose in himself. "You a baby???"
Giyuu looked up at him, pouting, unwilling to respond.
"Ara ara, looks like you shouldn't have said that about his voice! I would be offended as well if you compared my voice to Uzui's," Shinobu said, shooting a mischevious look at Tengen who appeared wounded.
Sanemi frowned. "It wasn't even that bad of an insult," he scoffed, trying with all his might to make Giyuu act fine without saying anything.Â
Giyuu sniffed loudly, ignoring Sanemi. He promptly turned away, stomping to the back of the garden and crossing his arms, acting as if he was waiting for Kagaya.
"Oooohhh-" Tengen said, a tone of amusement entering his voice. "I didn't know Tomioka could be so petty."
Shinobu raised an eyebrow. "Neither that he could be so affected by what Shinazugawa said."
Sanemi, fed up, sighed and stalked towards Giyuu, pulling him into a hug. "Giyuu, I didn't mean shit, I like your voice, okay??" he murmured, placing a kiss on Giyuu's nose. "Don't ignore me."
Giyuu seemed to brighten up instantlyâwhich made Sanemi irritated because it had probably been an act thenâand nodded. "Okay!"
"...ARE YOU TWO FINALLY DATING-" Kyojuro said, much too loudly.
"I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!!!" Shinobu shouted triumphantly.
Obanai shook his head with a sigh. "Well it was going to get out sooner or later."
Sanemi shot a glare at them. "Oh, fuck off."
Giyuu rested his head on Sanemi's shoulder, a small smile playing on his face.
ĂĂĂ
"I thought we agreed to keep it a secret..." Sanemi whined, as he and Giyuu were on their way back home.
"I'm sorrryyy," Giyuu said, pouting.Â
"Mmmhmm, well, I'm not giving you cuddles for three weeks now!" Sanemi told him, quickening his pace.
"WHAT?? NO-" Giyuu shouted, chasing after him.
Sanemi laughed, turning and abruptly stopping Giyuu, placing a kiss on his cheek. "I told you to work on differentiating a joke from a serious comment, Giyuu."
"...Well I'm trying!" Giyuu insisted, huffing. "...you're not going to take away my cuddles, are you?"
"No. That would be taking away my own, anyways. But! I'm still not letting you off. Which means I'm not making you salmon daikon for the rest of the week," Sanemi said, dragging Giyuu down the road.
"Awh..." Giyuu whined, trotting after Sanemi.
"Be glad it's Friday."
ĂĂĂÂ (this last part is completely random and has nothing to do with anything but I js wanted to write this)
Sanemi pushed Giyuu down, pinning him to the floor. He fit his lips to Giyuu's, closing his eyes. Legs wrapped around his waist as Giyuu clung onto him and Sanemi tangled his hand in the tangled mess of his boyfriend's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.Â
"Sa...nemi," Giyuu breathed between kisses, his face dusted in pink.Â
Sanemi pulled back, letting him breathe. "Yes?" he murmured, resting his lips upon Giyuu's forehead in a gentle kiss.
"I love you," Giyuu said quietly, his arms tightening their embrace around Sanemi's torso.
Sanemi smiled. "I love you most," he said, pulling Giyuu back into a kiss.
"Tha's... not fair...!" Giyuu whined, trying to avoid the kisses.
"Mhmm, I'm not fair at all then?" Sanemi said, peppering Giyuu's jaw with kisses.
"Nooo..."
Sanemi laughed. "Do you not love me, then?"
"I love you!" Giyuu insisted, turning back and catching a kiss on his bottom lip.Â
"Love you too, darling."
ĂĂĂ
  Word count: 11,420 
ELEVEN THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY WORDS OF PURE FUCKING FLUFF.Â
anyways back to writing angst ;v;
will y'all forgive me for getting lazy and making it rushed because it took me over a month to actually finish this (loss of motivation+procrastination+rereading+editing+long asf+stalling)?
#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#fluff#hashira#sanemi x giyuu#sanegiyuu#kny fanfic#oneshot#ds#sillies#gay#gays#lgbtq#sanemi shinazugawa#giyuu tomioka#giyuusane#floof#fluff fanfic#sorta requested#real#giyuu#sanemi#giyuu x sanemi#long ass post#rushed#kny fanfiction#fanfiction#water hashira#wind hashira
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Dress Up
Written for the @steddiemicrofic October challenge, âdressâ | word target: 350 | rating: T | CW: none
Of all the stupid things heâs ever agreed to, Eddieâs sure this is the stupidest.
Outside his bedroom, Steve yells,
âYou ready yet?â
âYeah, kinda. Iâm just-â
Eddieâs voice cracks and tails off, hinting that heâs not in a happy place.
âCâmon man, weâre gonna be late for Dustinâs Halloween costume party. Iâm sure you look fine.â
No answer.Â
Frustrated, and increasingly uncomfortable in his pinstripe suit and slick-backed hair, the point of which nobody has yet explained, Steve grabs the handle.
âOkay, Iâm coming inâŚâ
âNo! Steve, wait!â
Steve steps through. And stops dead.
Eddie fears the worst, his face screwing up into a mortified grimace, trying to cover himself with folded arms and flopping hair.Â
Babbling, he tries explaining,
âI look stupid, I know. Nancy said something about reinforcing patriarchal stereotypes of sexualised Halloween costuming, Robin flatly refused, Max said she was going as Wednesday and Argyle confirmed he was Cousin Itt, so to stop them all arguing I said Iâd do it. Iâll get changed, just- just gimme a minute, okay?â
He reaches for tissues, hoping to wipe off some of the obviously terrible makeup before Steve can fully see. But heâs stopped by a powerful hand grabbing his wrist.
âNo, donât!â
Steve pleads,
âLet me⌠Can I see you? Please?â
His timbre is soft, but Eddie isnât convinced that heâs not utterly horrified. Reluctantly, he turns.
And is met by Steveâs gorgeous hazel eyes, blown pupils drinking him in.Â
The way the black velvet hugs his body. The low neckline that highlights his chest hair and allows the slightest peek at his tattoos. The black nail polish showcasing his long fingers. The dark eye makeup and deep lipstick accentuating his features. The hint of fishnets visible through a thigh-length slit, descending down into freshly-polished, laced-up, platform New Rocks. The subtle bulge at the apex of his thighsâŚ
Steve swallows, his roving gaze eventually travelling back up to Eddieâs.
Before Eddie can speak another word, Steve has one more thing to say. He holds Eddieâs hand, takes half a step forward and slowly, deeply, purrs,Â
âCara MiaâŚâ
I really hope you enjoyed this! If you did, be sure to let me know - writers feed on your comments and reblogs đ¤đ¤đ¤
A/N: YES, Eddieâs Morticia. YES, Steve is Gomez. YES, the kids are conniving little sh*ts. YES, itâs based on some utterly delicious art by @blablasfemma that you can find HERE and HERE, and the fishnets were partly inspired by THIS by @arelliann and literally everyone whoâs ever drawn Eddie in them whose work I canât find bc Iâm so disorganised - if this is you or you know of any PLEASE hmu bc Iâd love to stare at them forever add credits đ Thanks to @the-unforgivenn for the beta, and to @80s-addict for previously getting as excited as I did about seeing Eddie in fishies đ
General taglist (sâopen, babies!): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy
#steddie#steddiemicrofic#steddie microfic#October prompt âdressâ#Steddams#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson x steve harrington#cosplay#fancy dress#costume party#halloween#halloween costume#halloween fic#Eddie munson in a dress#Addams family#the addams family#s
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Celestial Bodies AU (part 3/?)
(Part one, part two, part four, part five, part six, part seven. Also on AO3)
Dick took a deep breath before he exhaled. He dialed up the number and was quiet as it rang. When it finally beeped, he greeted, âHello, Bruce.â
â⌠Dick.â
âIâm taking Jason for a trip.â
âOkay.â A pause. âWhere?â
âTo see the cluster.â
He could almost hear Bruce grit his teeth, knowing that he distrusted the little galaxy even more after Dick had made a deal with one of the stars, binding them together. Bruce also especially hated them because even after more than half a decade, he still could not understand the mystery behind the cluster.
But Bruce was apparently desperate to talk to Dick again, since he sucked it up and allowed it. It was Dick and Jasonâs first outing, and he seemed oddly happy to let Dick take away his adopted brother into space.
When Jason had heard about it, he was excited.
âWait, Iâm seriously going to space? I get to see the cluster too??â
âYes,â Dick huffed. âWeâre going in a few days.â
âDo I need to wear the uniform? I donât, right? Isnât the ship safe?â
âYou donât need to. Nobody but us and people with high authority can come to the station.â
âSweet!â
Dick chuckled and teased, âYouâre so excited.â
âAnd you arenât? Well, I guess that energy levels can start dropping when youâre getting old,â Jason said with casual brutality.
Dick gasped. âWhat! Iâm not old!â
âYour age doesnât have the âteenâ in it anymore. Face it, Dickwing, youâre old.â
Dickâs jaw dropped, gobsmacked.
Was it possible to be this sassy at such a young age?! He wasnât this snarky either when he was this young, right?!
âYâknow what? Letâs cancel the whole thing. I refuse to take this disrespect!â
Jason immediately began whining. âWait, no! Iâm sorry!â
They joked about it, planned some more, and then the day came where Dick drove into the Batcave, ready to pick up his⌠brother to hang out.
âReady to go, Little Wing?â
Jason bounced on his heels. âYep! Weâre going to see space, right?â
Dick smiled and nodded. Bruce slinked into the Batcave just as the two of them were climbing into the teleportation tubes.
âB!â Jason called. âWeâre going!â
â⌠okay. Be safe.â Bruce was quiet for a moment, as Dick was inputting the code for the space station that bordered the cluster his star was in. Then he added, âBoth of you.â
Dick glanced up, gave a curt nod, and then looked back down again. Jason shifted awkwardly next to him as the silence ensued.
As Dick finished, Jason waved goodbye again and pulled on his elbow for him to do the same. Dick sighed and also waved goodbye.
âBye, B!â Jason called, before the teleportation started and away they went.
They landed in the dock and Dick immediately checked up on Jason, who stumbled from the unexpected landing.
âHow was it? Teleportation is neat, isnât it?â
"By neat, you mean nauseating?" Jason snarked. He looked vaguely green, but quickly got himself back under control and then bounced back to being all smiles. "We're going to see your star, right?"
"And all of the other stars and planets too," Dick said. "Are you excited?"
"Yep! I can't wait to see what they look like! What are they like? Are they nice?"
Dick smiled at the thought of his star, who had been his sounding board, his (metaphorical) shoulder to cry on, his anchor when he had been adrift after losing his right to become Robin.
"Very nice. You've read the report on them, right?"
Jason nodded seriously. He recited what he remembered, "This star cluster consists of mainly planets and stars that used to be humans before being changed by an unknown entity called "Clockwork". This "Clockwork" person has a relationship or power involving time. The four stars in the middle of the cluster, who anchor it and are the center, consider Clockwork to be their protector and family. The four stars in the middle are royalty, are all related as siblings, and are also dead children."
At the last description, Dick winced and went, "Yeesh, I don't remember that part being said like that in the report."
Jason shrugged. "Iâm paraphrasing."
Dick gave a small laugh and shook his head. Jason was surprisingly more fun than he had remembered. Usually, he remembered him being gloomy and bratty, as well as hot-tempered. Dick had not liked him at all, especially because Bruce had been a hypocritical asshole who had fired him for being a child and then turned around just to adopt another one and slap the name Robin on him.
(Sometimes, he wondered why Bruce hadnât adopted him too.)
Dick was quiet as he led Jason towards the command room.
Once inside, Jason gave a loud gasp as he immediately flew forward to look out the glass.
âIs thatâ?â
âYep.â Dick couldnât help but smile at his enthusiasm. He followed Jason at a more subdued pace and came up to the glass window. âThis is the Phantom Cluster. It used to be considered a galaxy, but we discovered that a lot of the other stars and planets around it arenât sentient, so we donât consider them a part of the cluster. The star system in the middle pulled them in.â
âWhoa. How many sentient planets do they have?â He tilted his head this way and that in order to see more.
âHmmm, somewhere around 3 dozen? But only those two talk to us and theyâre considered part of the Kingâs âcourtâ,â Dick said as he pointed towards the two planets that orbited the four cosmic bodies.
Jason stared at them with interest, eyes darting back and forth between all of the astronomical objects in view, the planets, the stars, the star corpses, the asteroids. As he stared in silence, he shivered and Dick took note of that, seeing that it wasnât something that came from the cold.
He understood it.
These stars were once breathing, living, walking humans like they were. Children, too.
Now they floated in the empty void of space, silent beyond the radio waves they emitted, unfeeling beyond what emotions they had after transformation, existing beyond what was given to them in order to stay âaliveâ.
Sometimes, it was difficult to think of them as once human, when they were everything but that without the memories.
They gave off such a strong sense of otherness that it was almost frightening.
Jason pointed to the one with clouds covering its surface. âIs that⌠water vapor clouds?â
Dick grinned. âYeah. That planet can hold life, but we havenât touched down yet. Itâs considered rude and they get angry.â
Jason smiled. âCool.â
Dick pointed at his star. âThat star is mine.â
âWow,â Jason breathed in awe and pride swelled in Dickâs chest at the sound of his amazement. He gazed at his brightly glowing star with thinly veiled satisfaction.
Yes, it was a star now.
His star, who was once a black hole, had collapsed on itself on the day that he had shed his Robin identity and tried to find his own independence.
He remembered it so clearly.
ââ
âUncle Clark! What do you mean my star is gone?!â Dick shrieked. He pressed his phone against his shoulder for easy movement as he started his car and began to drive desperately back to the Batcave, where the teleportation tube there would be able to take him straight to the station that watched over that strange, little galaxy.
He felt tears in his eyes as he drove like a madman past traffic and honking cars.
Only a few days ago, he had basically been fired from his lifelong job and passion after getting injured from fighting the Joker and he had only left the Manor today, and now he had to crawl back because his star was dying.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
Why wasnât anything going right?
It was just too much. Dick scrubbed the tears from his eyes and continued to bark on the phone, âSuperman! What is happening?!â
âI donât know,â Superman said. âYour star just stopped spinning a few days ago, and at first, I didnât think it was a big deal because the rest of the cluster was still singing. But today, it started⌠shrinking.â
âShrinking?! Tell me whatâs going on!â His stomach felt like it was going through a wringer. He was almost sick with worry and exhaustion.
He had no one else now. Alfred was with Bruce, and Bruce had abandoned him. He couldnât depend on other heroes like some charity case, and all he had left was his starâŚ
Please⌠please let it be nothing.
âI donât know. Itâs shrinking and itâs stopped sucking in gas and matter a while ago too. This happened at least a week ago.â
Could nothing go right?!
Dick smacked the steering wheel of his car in rage, making it honk and the car in front of him to surge forward.
He raced back to the Manor and through the secret entrance to the Batcave. When Bruce came down to see what was happening, Dick had already gone through the teleportation tube and stuck a sticky note on the computer to tell him what was going on before he left.
For a moment, he thought Bruce could chase him, but he didnât. Dick was left alone as he teleported to the space station.
When he landed on flat ground, he immediately took off towards the command room, where Superman was floating and staring out the window with confusion.
âRobin!â Superman called, and then he winced.
Dick felt his stomach twist into knots from the shame as he realized that his favorite superhero knew he was fired.
âYou know,â he said tonelessly.
Superman grimaced and nodded. âIâm sorry. Batman shouldnât have done that.â
âYes. He shouldnât have.â
Superman rubbed the back of his neck and then he gestured to the window, âThereâs your black hole. Iâm not sure why, but he started changing a week or two ago. I think it was around the time you got⌠uh, benched.â
It was both endearing and infuriating how Superman sugarcoated things to avoid hurting him.
It made Dick feel even more ashamed as he grit his teeth and realized that his star was being punished for his actions.
Dick laid his eyes on the cluster outside the window and felt his heart break. Like him, his star looked weak and small. Like it was stripped of its layers (his role, his motherâs nickname for him, his last piece of his family), it looked dull and small. It didnât move as much as before either.
âMy star?â Dick asked, his voice cracking as he came closer to the glass.
His star did not respond, still and silent. The song of the stars was quieter than usual too. It sounded sad and sorrowful, filled with melancholy and loss.
Dick felt tears in his eyes again.
Fuck. He hadnât wanted to cry.
It was just inevitable. He and his star were connected in more ways than one. The two of them were bonded, two halves of a whole, two parts of a relationship, like milk and cereal, and peanut butter and jelly.
Okay, actually, he was just being melodramatic.
But the truth remained: Dick loved his star. He loved his star like he loved Bruce, like he loved Kory, like he loved his parents, like he loved Alfred, like he loved Barbara. His star was his family and he hated just how the both of them looked weary and worn out in this moment.
He remembered his childhood, where he would slip onto the manorâs roof and talk to his star, who would glitter and sparkle in the smoky sky of Gotham. He had loved it, had loved how he could see his star in the night sky, and how he responded back in the ways only a star could.
It sucked that his condition reflected back on his star.
It was unfair how Dickâs suffering and unhappiness appeared on his star too.
âRâ⌠Dick, are you alright?â
Dick wiped his eyes with his sleeve. âIâll be fine. Can I⌠Can I stay here for a little while? Just a couple of days.â
Superman looked sympathetic and it killed Dick inside to see the pity on his face.
âOf course. Whatever you need. Thereâs more than enough food and water in the stationâŚ. Do you want me to talk to Bruce?â
âNo.â His voice came back sharp. Superman winced and Dick wanted to feel apologetic, but he couldnât help but be angry at the thought of his foster father.
âNo need. Iâll be okay here, thanks.â
Superman then nodded slowly and left, leaving Dick alone in the command room.
His black hole hummed in the background, spinning slowly. Its dark light shone on him as it spun, but Dick could only feel cold.
That was to be expected when in a room across from three dead stars and a baby star, but the cold was inside of Dick as well, penetrating his bones and making his stomach feel like lead.
He felt sick. And tired. And exhausted. And pissed as hell.
He stayed in that command room for days. Sometimes, he just sat there and watched the stars move, as his black hole turned dimmer and dimmer until its event horizon could barely be seen.
Was it dying?
Robin was now gone, so did that mean that his star would be gone too?
The King quietly reassured him that it was not true, but Dick worried regardless.
When he wasnât looking out the window in a daze, he was researching about job offers and career paths. He was still barely in school, and he needed to look onward after being kicked out of being Robin.
Occasionally, Superman would come by and talk to him.
âSo what are you planning to do?â He asked one day.
Dick had been writing down a list of ideas for his future and he looked up then. âI⌠Iâm not entirely sure.â
âThatâs okay,â Superman reassured him. âYouâll find your path one day. And I know youâll be great at it. You were always shining brightly, just like a star, I trust that youâll find your way again.â
He grinned then and Dick returned the look.
â⌠I want to be a hero again.â
Superman hummed. âWell⌠not a bad idea. Are you sure? You know the danger of it.â
âI know,â Dick said, determined. âThatâs why I want to continue doing what I love. Being a hero helped me in more ways than one. It helped me and it helped others. I want to continue doing good.â
Was it just him or was his star shining brighter?
Dick was distracted by Supermanâs next words.
âI see. What are your plans? Are you going to go back to Batman?â
âI think⌠I think Iâm going to go to Bludhaven. Iâm going to become my own hero.â He smiled, as the plan solidified in his mind. He was already 18, he could transfer his college credits to another university and finish his education. He would find a job, an apartment of his own, he would finally be independent!
He didnât need Batman. He was his partner, but if Batman wanted to treat him like a kid, then Dick would show him that he wasnât. He was smarter, stronger, wiser, and braver than Bruce realized.
He didnât need him. (Even if it hurt.)
The singing grew louder, then. Just barely noticeable, like the stars were excited but wanted to be quiet so the surprise wouldnât be let out.
Superman smiled. âThat sounds like a great plan. What do you think youâre going to be called?â
He had thought about growing out of Robin before, but since he was forced out of his role like cutting off a child from their motherâs milk, he had thought about it extensively since then.
He gazed at Superman, thinking of the legends he used to tell him when he was young.
â⌠I think⌠I want to be named Nightwing.â
Just as his words came out of his mouth, there was a loud bang that echoed from space, and then an explosion that rocked the ship. Metal screeched from the movement and everything turned white. Superman immediately flew at him, covering him with his own body as the spacecraft rocked and creaked ominously from the explosion. Dick was pressed against the floor and his eyes clenched shut as he unconsciously covered his ears from the loud impact of whatever exploded outside his window.
Once the heat dissipated and the ringing of his ears stopped, Dick realized what had happened.
Dick cried out, âNo!â and pushed Superman off of him as he stared out the window.
But it wasnât what he had expected.
He had expected to see devastation, planets blown apart, stars torn in two, nebula clouds drifting from stars going supernova, black holes gone with evaporation.
Instead, he saw a new star.
His black hole had disappeared and in its place, was a bright glowing blue star, hot and enormous, second to no one but his sister, the quasar. His star cooed once, âMy Nightwing,â suddenly making everything connect within his mind.
Dickâs jaw dropped as then song burst from the radio.
And in it, something new.
Before, the singing had sounded like that of a group of children from a church choir. It was haunting and beautiful, but light and delicate. It was a song of loneliness and melancholy sung by a group of children who were cursed to become astronomical objects and be alone with only each other in the sky.
But now, there was a new voice.
No, it wasnât new.
It had grown up.
His star had a distinctly bass and masculine voice, one of a grown man with a deep, almost velvety quality to it. Surprisingly, it melded well with the other voices and they all sang with the sound of new hope and new beginnings, a sign of the new times and change.
Tears came to Dickâs eyes again. It poured down his cheeks and he couldnât help but smile and laugh as his entire body unclenched from the relief.
Of course.
How had he not realized?
His star wasnât dying. It was growing up too. The stars had mentioned rebirth before, having been turned from stars into planets into stars again and then into black holes or neutron stars or more protostars.
Dick had been growing up with his star. His star was a child when they made a deal, just like him, and the two of them had grown up together. With the curse, it was the only way his star could find any semblance of becoming himself again. Now that Dick had shed his childish identity as Batmanâs partner of Robin into a newer role, his star would also do the same.
âDick?â Superman asked hesitantly. âAre you alright?â
Dick gave him a wobbly smile that probably didnât reassure him by the worried look on his face. âYeah. Iâm just fine.â
With his star by his side, Dick would enter a new chapter of his life. He wouldnât hesitate any longer.
He had finally grown out of the nest, ready to take flight with new wings. Now all he had to do was jump and spread them for a new journey.
ââ
âUhhh⌠whatâs that black hole doing?â
Dick snapped out of his thoughts at Jasonâs words and looked up. Outside the window, while his star was still alongside his siblings, the quasar was spinning rapidly, flares bursting outwards and lights sparking from the collision of dust and gas.
â⌠no clue.â She kind of looked like she was showing off.
The singing on the radio grew louder.
They both watched as the quasar continued its little show as the communicator crackled noisily.
The radio hummed, the song slowing down to a halt before then it spoke.
âHello,â a thousand voices echoed.
Dick pulled his gaze away from the window to look at the monitor.
The chatter of the stars grew more excited as the quasar continued to spin crazily. The King was at the forefront of the speaking stars, who said, âHow do you do?â
â⌠weâre well, thank you for asking.â
Another voice quickly interrupted the neutron star, calling sweetly, âRobin.â
Dick froze, feeling a strong sense of dĂŠjĂ vu. It was all too familiar of a scene. A scene that had occurred to him only 7 years ago.
Jason looked at Dick for answers, but when he was too dumbfounded to speak, Jason answered quietly, âYes?â
â⌠do you want to help me?â
Dick and Jason stared at each other.
âShould I?â Jason asked him and Dick hesitated.
He had never felt like being the human host for a star was a burden. In fact, it held no repercussions for him, since all he had to do was grow and live and his star would follow. Frankly, it was almost a completely one-sided deal since Dick got all of the rewards.
His mouth felt dry. When they had mentioned Robins before, was it a sign that if Batman had more children and more Robins, they would all become a host for his galaxy?
ââŚ. Itâs your choice, Little Wing.â
Jason nodded slowly, and asked, âWho are you?â
âIn front of you,â the voice called and the quasar gave a small spin with a burst of light from her accretion disk. Her jet pulsed and Jason oohed at the sight of it.
âDick, whoâs that one again?â
âThatâs the quasar,â Dick said. âSheâs the big sister of the cluster.â
Jason smiled, silent for a moment as he watched the quasar move before he answered her, âHow can I help you?â
âMake a deal with me.â
âWhat do I get out of it?â Jason asked, as Dick put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.
âIâll watch over you. Protect you when I can⌠Iâll be yours.â
Jason smiled toothily. âBut I donât wanna be owned by something.â
There was sudden silence, only the crackling of static and the same sound of ocean waves filling the air. Dick eyed Jason with wide eyes, trying to telepathically sending him question marks for his vague refusal when there was seriously no downside.
Then finally, âYou wonât be owned by me.â The quasar sounded hesitant and a little sullen, almost offended.
Jason tilted his head. âOkay. Then Iâll make a deal with you. You donât own me, but weâll belong to each other, âkay?â
There was silence again as the quasar thought about it. Then, sounding more pleased and extremely adoring, the answer came out in a quiet hushed and awed, âOkay.â
The quasar seemed shocked by Jasonâs handling of the situation, who dared to even negotiate the terms of what they were to each other. Dick watched, slightly impressed as the quasar seemed even more endeared than before.
Jason said, âDeal!â before he put his hand on the glass and several flares came from the quasar.
Gas and dust rubbed against each other in an impressive show of lights and fireworks before one of the flares popped and then a piercing light came rushing towards them. Dick gripped Jasonâs shoulder tighter before the light burst through the window and then into Jasonâs hand, up his arm, and then his cheek before it then settled.
Jason gasped, bending over slightly as his hand came up to cradle his face as Dick rushed to catch him.
âLittle Wing! Are you okay? Oh, Iâm so sorry, I didnât think itâd be this bad! It wasnât the last time!â
âIâm okay, Dickwing! Seriously!â Jason batted away his hand and then looked up at his reflection through the glass. âWhoa.â
On the left side of his face, below his eye and on his cheekbones, lines began to appear with bright bursts of black, bloody orange, and a turquoise blue. The same four pointed star as Dickâs appeared, its lines long and pointed. As the ink began to settle, Jason smiled, satisfied as he stroked the newly formed tattoo before he called out into the communicator, âThanks!â
The stars were all celebrating around the quasar, a more cheerful and happy tune as they sang and spun.
âNo, thank you, my dear Robin,â the quasar responded happily through the singing and cheering.
Jason beamed. Dick, however, frowned, as he reached down to press a thumb against the tattoo and said, âIsnât the mark too obvious?â
âDidnât you say that you could hide it before? You just have to teach me!â Jason said, with a raised eyebrow, as if daring him to refuse. However, the smile on his face wouldnât die, and he looked overjoyed.
Noticing Dick gazing at him, Jason grinned.
Huh, how had he not noticed that Jason had dimples?
âThanks for bringing me here, Dickwing!â Jason said with a wide grin. âI canât believe I have my own star!â
Dick couldnât help but smile too, and said, âNo problem. Take care of her well.â
âI will! I definitely will!â
As Dick looked up out the window and observed his own star, who was spinning happily in circles around his newly bonded sister, he couldnât help but marvel at the turn of events.
Who knew that this Robin would also acquire the protection of a star?
Man, Bruce was going to freak.
|||||||||||||||||||
BRUCE. I WANTED YOU TO BE A GOOD FATHER. WHY IS IT THAT EVERY TIME I RESEARCH CANON EVENTS, YOUâRE ALWAYS FUCKING THINGS UP. YOUâRE RUINING MY WHOLESOME SPACE THEMED SERIES, BRUCE.
Why did this turn into a coming-of-age story lmaooo but Iâm lowkey happy with it tho
The distinction between âyou not owning me, but Iâm yoursâ is important (kinda). Itâs more of a âwe belong to each otherâ rather than Dick and Danâs âyouâre mineâ thing going on. Also, yes, the placement of the tattoos is on purpose. I switch between it/he pronouns for Dan (and the other celestial objects) bc itâs just easier and I feel like sometimes, itâs needed to show that they are not human.
Also, as per everyoneâs request, there will be no shipping involved :) there will be a bit of qpr and codependency, but I love those, so it wouldâve been included anyways.
Dan has completed his transformation from a black hole into a blue giant! Blue giants are very hot, big, and rather short-lived because they burn out quickly. Specifically, Dan is a giant star with a spectral class of B0Ib and a magnitude of -0.02 (which means heâs one of the bigger giant stars, his color is blue, and he is somewhat able to be seen from Earth).
Irl, itâs pretty inaccurate to real stars and black holes, bc black holes cannot collapse on itself (itâs literally a collapsed star, it cannot collapse further) and usually will only evaporate and disappear through Hawking radiation (which takes so long that all stars and star corpses will disappear before black holes will be gone). However, stars can recycle old material from dead stars to grow and thatâs what happens here. Clockwork comes by every once in a while to check up on his babies and dump some nebula into the galaxy before he disappears again.
The other starsâ new identities will be revealed soon and Iâll also explore Sam and Tuckerâs planet statuses as the series continues. Thank you for reading!
Next up, a certain Robin suffers đ (not clickbait).
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#jazz fenton#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#jason todd#dick grayson#celestial object au#dark danny#dan fenton#dan phantom#phantom family#team phantom#danny fenton#sam manson
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âęąá´á´Ęęą á´á´ á´Ęá´ęąĘâ â chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow
ăá´Ąá´Ęɴɪɴɢ:ă NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?Âż), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything
ăá´á´ÉŞĘɪɴɢ:ă young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
ăęąá´á´á´á´ĘĘ:ă they talk <33
ăá´/É´:ă remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-
Beta read by the lovely đ @nowitsmissing đŤśđž
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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.
You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.
âStop that,â you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.
He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.
His insane dove.
You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.
âYou and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.â You narrowed your eyes.
âRemember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?â You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. âHaven't seen her around now, have you?â You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.
âYou're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.â
You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.
âI am pathetic,â he mused, âI sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.â
âWell, you shouldn't have!â You angrily spit out, âNobody can ever compare to me.â
Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. âYou're too much.â
âI am perfect.â
âThen you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.â
âGaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!â
âI had no choice,â he yelled out.
âWhy not!?â
âBecause I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.â
You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.
âYou're everything,â he admits shamefully.
âYou're not forgiven,â you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. âShe was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.â
âI love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.â
Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. âOkay, dove,â he whispered.
Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. âTell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,â he said.
You were caught off guard. âUh.. uhm⌠I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.â
He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.
âYou knew.â
He adds, shocked, âYou knew we were soulmates.â
You nod, âYes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.â
Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. âI am sorry,â he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.
âYou're forgiven.â You smile, soft and gentle.
You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.
âTell me about district thirteen,â he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.
You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.
âI can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.â
Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.
âIs that why you are here?â He asked.
âI am here because of you, that was a means to an end.â
You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. âI didn't get your letters,â he said in a lower voice. âI thought you abandoned me.â
âI have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.â You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.
âI sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.â
âDr. Gaul,â he thought out loud, âShe stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.â
You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. âMakes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.â
You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, âI didn't either.â
You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. âYou're insane,â you mutter affectionately.
Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. âIt looks great on you,â he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.
You laugh in response, âI know.â
You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, âMy initials will look great on you too. But not today.â
He felt disappointed.
âWhen then?â Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
âAfter your punishment is over,â you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.
âI won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,â you grin, âYou have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.â
You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.
NEXT PART
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Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)
This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.
This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.
All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.
Tw: mentions of death
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.
The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.
You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.
He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.
Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.
Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.
When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.
Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)
Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.
Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.
It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.
You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.
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more of jessie lying wetly
chapter one
chapter two
cool art by @hamandeggbun
and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.
The interior decor of One-Eyed Pollyâs had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it.Â
The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that sheâd worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous. Â
Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.
âStill owes me twenty dollars.â
âDid I tell you she blocked me?â
âI thought she got arrested.â
âWhat did Sub-Zero say?â
Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didnât know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadnât worn her costume because she didnât need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.
Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?
Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. âWell, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.âÂ
âAww, Maudie, come on. Donât be like that, itâs my birthday.â
âAs if I donât know. Did you get your card?â
âDid you send one?â
Maud rolled her eyes, hard. âOf course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?â
Of course she wouldnât know; Jessie hadnât checked her mailbox in at least a week.Â
She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasnât even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo.Â
âWell, I appreciate it,â she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. âBut, hey, Iâm not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?â
âThe hell do you mean, do I feel alright?â
âWell, you always said that youâd only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobodyâs smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.â
Maudie snorted. âWe had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobodyâs allowed to smoke in here and Iâm getting yelled at if I donât eat vegetables and go for a fuckinâ walking every morning.â
She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Pollyâs. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Jessie demanded. âWe could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.â
âI didnât want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.â And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. âYou want a drink, or what? First roundâs free for the birthday girl.â
âYeah? Letâs do a straight whiskey and a burger,â Jessie said, knowing damn well that sheâd be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. âDo the fries still come with that, or is it extra?â
âItâll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,â Maud said gravely.
There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Pollyâs, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit.Â
âHey, Maudie,â she said, half a burger later. âYou still have Joneyâs van?â
Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. âIâd love to know how the hell you think I couldâve lost it.â
âNo no, thatâs not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.â
âCanât get your car back from Voltzz, huh?â
âHmm?â Jessie asked, playing dumb.
âDo not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what Iâm talking about.â
âGod. How did you even hear about that?â
âAre you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.â
âOkay, tacky.â Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. âMaudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like Iâm maybe, um, not very popular around here.â
Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. âThatâs not a question.â
âYou know what I mean!â
âI donât know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.â
âMaudie!â
Jessieâs complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudieâs side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.
âSo get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. Sheâs always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan Iâll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.â
Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. âKid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.â
âWhat happened?â
âOne of my girls, Jordan. Sheâs got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore sheâd be fine. Except sheâs not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom itâll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now sheâs starting to make things levitate and I canât have that. I need to find her a ride home.â
âCould I come see her?â Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.
Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. âYou can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. Itâs a 24-hour bug, sheâll be back to normal tomorrow.â
âI know that!â
âSo drop it, then! For once in your life, donât get so pushy about this superhero shit.â
Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessieâs gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.
The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. Sheâd shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Pollyâs, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that sheâd pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment.Â
Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didnât hate her guts.
âHey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?â
âItâs a living,â he said, still looking down.Â
âIf I offered to pay you, like, five times what youâre making right now, would you work for me?â
âFuck no.â
âTen times?âÂ
He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. âLook, lady. Itâs not about the money. Itâs about not wanting to get my ass kicked.â
âJesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?â
âOh, yeah.â
âIs that why you wonât even look at me?â
âYeah. You understand. Canât look like weâre getting friendly.â
âRespect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.â
âYeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.â
Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Pollyâs was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didnât and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessieâs reputation must be worse than dirt.
Why? Because of last nightâs embarrassing little tantrum? Couldnât be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything theyâd both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.
Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldnât possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything.Â
In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasnât going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash.Â
âNikesh? Open me up a tab. Itâs my birthday and I want shots.â
***
Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.
Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.
Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how sheâd very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be.Â
In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasnât.
Hey, Joney. Itâs your favorite sister. And I know what youâre thinking: âJessie, youâre my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?â Well, itâs because you havenât been acting like Iâm your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.
Did you even notice itâs my birthday? Youâve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And thatâs fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldnât believe. Sheâs getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her whoâs boss around here.
You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But Iâm also mad at you. Itâs, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But itâs gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldnât because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like⌠whatever. Iâm wearing them right now even though theyâre way too fancy for Pollyâs. Might as well get my moneyâs worth.
But I also just donât have anything. Like, whereâs the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why canât I⌠I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now Iâm this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldnât pay the May rent and I canât pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Pollyâs and I donât have enough to pay it, so now Maudieâs going to be mad at me, I think. I donât know, Iâm not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.
Everybodyâs mad at me.
And you wonât even call me back, and I canât even afford toilet paper, so thatâs, like, a lot. And Iâm not handling it well. And Iâm drank as a skank at Pollyâs, in case you couldnât tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. Iâm fucking spiraling, buddy. Iâm in my fucking up era out here.
So. You should come home.
Or at least tell me where you are or what youâre doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. Weâre supposed to tell each other things. And Iâm scared about whatâs going to happen if youâre gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but Iâm not fucking seeing it right now.Â
By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didnât realize she wasnât alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.
âHey. You okay in there?â
It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that theyâd bothered.
âIâm fine,â Jessie lied, wetly. âIâm just, like, Iâm on the phone.â
âYeah, I can hear that.â Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. âI just wanted to say that theyâre not worth it. Whoeverâs making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.â
âOkay,â Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: âI have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says youâre not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.â
âGreat,â the stranger said dryly. âCrushed it.â Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.
She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didnât look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. âHey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.â
âWhatever,â said the voice by the sinks. âDonât beat yourself up. Iâve been there, I get it.â
Jessieâs heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didnât even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with.Â
âMy name is Jessie,â she said hesitantly.
She heard her new friend sigh. âIâm Tash.â
âDo you come here often? Iâm not asking that in the pervert way, Iâm just curious if youâre, like, a regular.â
âI work here,â Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.
âOh. Do you like it?â
âSucks shit. But, you know. You do what youâve got to do.â She cleared her throat awkwardly. âAre you okay in there? Iâm gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.â
âNo, Iâm okay. Iâm just, you know.â Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessieâs voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. âI need a moment to get it together.â
âI hear that,â Tash said. âI usually use the walk-in when I need a second.âÂ
âYeah?â
âYeah. Itâs not very big, but itâs quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.â She cleared her throat again. âSorry to dump that on you.â
âNo, thatâs okay. It makes sense,â said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. âDo you keep anything fun in there? Maudâs never let me see it.â
âYou know Maud?â
âYeah, since I was a kid. Isnât she the best?â
âSheâs a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss Iâve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.â
âSounds like Maudie,â Jessie agreed fondly. âAnyway, whatâs in the walk-in?â
âFucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I donât know. Like I said, not a lot of room.â
âPlenty of room for you.â
âYeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.â
âDoes that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .â
âI donât know.â Tash sighed. âMore often than youâd hope. Which is never, obviously. We donât have to talk about this.â
âWhatâs your favorite color?â
âWhat?â
âYour favorite color,â Jessie insisted. âI love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And itâs a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.â
âOkay. Sure,â Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. âWill you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?â
âYes.â
âWell, jokeâs on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.â
âWhat shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?â
âJust a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.â
Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. âI dig that. Purple is good.â
âWhat about you?â
âOh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.â
âThatâs blue, right?â
âYeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.â Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when sheâd wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. âOkay, Iâm coming out now. Donât gag if my makeupâs a mess, Iâm going to fix it.â
She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.
Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladiesâ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.
The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.
The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes.Â
The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.
âWhat the fuck,â she said. âFrostbite?â
The recognition and reaction alone werenât surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.
âOh my god!â she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. âNight Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!â
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ď Mafia Boss Sukunaď
Mafia Boss Sukuna x fem reader
Warnings- Sex, Cussing, Mentions of killing
Word Count- 690
Pronouns- she/her the reader is female
Content- cussing, kissing, fluff, mentions of killing, smut, degration, pet names, penetration, slapping, aftercare, groping
My Masterlist -> Masterlist
Mafia Boss Sukuna who would murder anyone for you. He would burn the entire world down for you if it was you who asked. You say the word and whoever you want is dead. He would kill them however you wanted; your wish is his command. âI will tell my men to get rid of them tonight. You say the word and itâs done.â
Mafia Boss Sukuna who caters and gives into your every need. Nothing is too expensive for him. âKuna look, that dress is just so beautiful.â âPut it on me.â You jumped up and down with excitement as you ran into the store to try the dress on. His generosity towards you went further than clothes. Jewelry? Heâs got it covered. Are you craving a specific dish? He will order it and have it prepared for you.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who is so overprotective of you. He wants to be with you all the time, but with his job, thatâs impossible. So, you are forbidden from going out without him or one of his most trusted employees with you. He wants to keep you safe from harm. âBaby, I know you want to go out, but I have enemies and I donât want their disgusting hands all over whatâs mine.â
Mafia Boss Sukuna who tortures anyone who wrongs you. âWhat did he say to you? Iâll have his head on a spike, and Iâll ship his body back to his family! Nobody hurts my girl.â If someone dared make you cry, other than him, they wouldnât live to see another day. He would track them down and murder them with his own two hands. Their death would be slow and painful.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who lets you attend his meetings with him. âMaster Sukuna, is this woman allowed in here?â âThis woman is my lady, and you will treat her with upmost respect. She is to remain at my side.â Sukuna would sit in his big leather chair and pull you onto his lap. He will rub his fingers along your hips as he goes on with business. His hands will squeeze your plump thighs as he watches you wriggle in front of his associates. He will ask for your opinions on his business matters too. Most likely he wonât take your words into consideration, but he wants his underlings to have respect for you.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who claims you in bed. He buries his cock deep inside your cunt and thrusts his hips into yours with extreme force. âLook at you, taking my big cock like a good little slut.â âYou are my little slut, arenât you? Such a pretty little whore for this cock.â He would wipe your tears away as he continued to assault your little pussy. He would slap your ass until you were crying out his name. âThatâs right baby, cum on my cock for me.â
Mafia Boss Sukuna who surprisingly gives the best aftercare. He would kiss up and down your body, making sure he tends to all the marks and bruises he left. âI didnât hurt you too much did I sweetheart? I didnât mean to be too rough with you.â He would run you a hot bath and use your favorite bath bombs. âIâll wash you up baby, just relax for me, okay?â He would massage your aching muscles while he brushes your tangled hair. âYou did such a good job for me.â
Mafia Boss Sukuna who has a soft spot for you and only you. Everyone knows Sukunaâs cold demeanor and vicious personality, but you get to witness his warmhearted and loving side. When he got you alone, Sukuna would shower you with praise and kisses. âYou look so gorgeous today doll.â âYouâre such a pretty girl, and youâre all mine.â He would wrap his arms around you tightly and pull you close as he places warm, gentle kisses to your forehead. At night he would cuddle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you drifted off to sleep. âSleep tight baby. I love you so much. You mean the absolute fucking world to me.â
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