#onion curse onion curse onion curse upon ye

[bucket-puns]

More Ishmael treats. I needed to throw em out here

[onlykex]

Strong vibes

[moonstruckme]

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 

“Overruled,” he decrees. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 

You sigh. “I figured.” 

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his touch down your neck. 

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 

“Wasn’t ready for what?” 

“To be sick.” 

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 

“What is it?” James asks. 

“Thirty nine point five.” 

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius has the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

[aroaceloverofgarlicbread]

woe ask be upon ye

I AM GOING TO TAKE ALL OF YOUR GARLIC BREAD AND TOAST OT SLIGHTLY TOO MUCH FOR YOUR SPECEFIC TASTES

I WILL FAIL MISERABLY BECAUSE I DONT KNOW YOUR TASTES IN GARLIC BREAD

Why does everyone go after my Garlic Bread :(((((

First it was that one anon who stole it all, and once I got it back another anon cursed me to always have onions in it, and now you toast it incorrectly :((((

[manwalksintobar]

One Day  // Philip Levine

Everyone knows that the trees will go one day and nothing will take their place. Everyone has wakened alone in a room of fresh light and risen to meet the morning as I did before I came upon this name and this sad nature by which others know me. How long have we waited quietly by the side of the road for someone to slow and ask why? The light is going, first from between the long rows of dark firs and then from our eyes, and when it is gone we will be gone. No one will be left to say, "'He took that stick and marked off the place where the door would be," or "She held the child in both hands and sang the same few tunes over and over."                              Before dinner we stood in line to wash the grease from our faces and scrub our hands with a hard brush, and the pan of water thickened and grayed, a white scum frothed on top, and the last one flung it all in the yard. Boiled potatoes, buttered and salted, onions, thick slices of bread, cold milk, the smell of coffee from the kitchen. I felt my eyes slowly closing, you smoked in silence.                                         What life were we expecting? Ships sailed from distant harbors without us, the telephone rang and no one answered, someone came home alone and stood 66for hours in the dark hallway. A woman bowed to a candle and spoke as though it could hear, as though it could answer. My aunt went to the back window and called her small son, gone now for 17 years into the closed wards of the state, called his name again and again, and her tears fell into nothing. What could I do? Answer for him who'd forgotten his name? Take my father's shoes and go into the streets?                                        Yes, the sun has risen again, I can see the windows change and hear a dog barking. The wind buckles the slender top of the alder, the conversation of night birds hushes, and I can hear my heart regular and strong. I will live to see the day end, as I lived to see this hand grow long and spotted. As I lived to see the earth turn molten and white, then to metal, then to whatever shape we stamped into it as we laughed the long night hours away or sang how the eagle flies on Friday. When Friday came, the early hours perfect and cold, we cursed our only lives and passed the bottle back and forth.                                                               Some died. I turned and he was gone, my friend with the great laugh who walked cautiously and ate with his head down, like a bear, his coarse hair almost touching the plate. The tall one with arms no thicker than a girl's, who cursed his own swollen face as though he could have another. 67The one whose voice lilted softly when he raised a finger and spoke. Gone in pain and fear. I sat beside him, helpless, trying to describe the sea as I had seen it, but it was lost, distant and unseen, perhaps no longer there under a low sky. I wanted to tell him how the waves darkened and left only the sound of their breaking, and after a silence we learned to bear, it all came back. He turned away to the wall and slept, and I went out into the city. It was I who'd held his wife and felt the small bones of her back rising and falling as she did not cry. Later I would see my son from a distance and not call out. I would waken that night beside a sleeping woman and count each breath.                          Soon it was summer, afternoon, the city hid indoors in the great heat, the hot wind shrivelled our faces. I said, ''They're gone." The light turned from red to green, and we went on. "If they're not here," you said, "Where are they?" We both looked into the sky as though it were our only home. We drove on. Nothing moved, nothing stirred in the oven of this valley. What was there left to say? The sky was on fire, the air streamed in the open windows. We broke free beyond the car lots, the painted windows, the all-night bars, the places where the children gathered, and we just went on and on, as far as we could into a day that would never end.

[rangikuxmatsumoto]

I demand an OmElet

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting

The tiny kitchenette of the Tenth was not properly designed for the undertaking that she had heaped upon herself. Cooking was not her strong suit, and cooking in an inadequate kitchen was the making of some terrible reality TV show – and yet, here she was attempting to appease her greedy and demanding taichou.

She had to reminder herself, it was his birthday, this was her gift to him, this was not only thoughtful but genuine. God, couldn’t she just rig another firework’s display and call it a year, she just had to go and set the bar unnaturally high for herself.

A muffled curse slipped from her lips as another small piece of shell fell into the bowl as she attempted to crack the egg on the lip. She shot a quick look over her shoulder as her nail dipped into the mixture of yolk and egg white, quickly fishing out the small piece and flicking it into the sink, good, he hadn’t seen her do that. These were the last of the eggs and she wasn’t about to toss this mixture since it was almost ready. She gave it a quick whisk, mixing the eggs and milk together before she poured it into the pan, there was quick sheering sound as she realized the pan may have been too hot at first. Frantically lifting it as she adjust the heating element before setting it down once more. She tossed in the green onions, some cheese, a bit of ham and then nervously attempted to fold.

The mixture spilled out from one side as she cursed again, flipping it once again to make sure both sides were cooked before she lifted it to place it upon the plate. Was it the most beautiful of omelets? No. Had she tried her best? Absolutely. Would he probably complain? Yes.

With a small squeeze of ketchup, she added a winky face onto the plate and then presented it as if it was some grand chef crafted meal. “Here, an early birthday gift.”

She really hoped there weren’t any shells in it.

[alex-gfd]

Oh what I would give to not be horny in public because my brain hates me and I'll be out with my parents and my brain will go "hot older biker in leather fucking you on his motorcycle" and I just have to pretend I'm not thinking about it for like hours I'll just be like talking with my mom about growing onions and shit and I'm like hm. I wanna make out sloppy style with a tall Slavic guy who's a lil scary. And for why? Fucking hormones. Ovulation. It's a curse I tell ye!!! - 🦞

Woe be upon ye, you are thinking of older man balls now

[vartouhix]

seven deadly sins meme: do the first three of each!

seven deadly sins headcanons ; accepting

gluttony

what could your muse eat all the time without ever getting tired of it?

Tteokbokki, hands down. The kind that's sweet-and-spicy, and the black bean paste (jjajang) kind. She loves how soft and chewy it is~ But the sweet-and-spicy kind with melted mozzarella cheese especially.

a feast of all your muse's favorite foods is laid out in front of them. what's on the menu?

Honestly? It would look like regular Korean barbecue, with marinated pork belly and lots of side dishes--specifically steamed egg, thinly-sliced pickled white radish, garlic cloves, green onion, soy sauce braised quail eggs, kimchi, seasoned soybean sprouts, seasoned spinach, and marinated raw crab. Tteokbokki, of course, with mozzarella cheese melted in it. There would also be tonkatsu and fried chicken, and desserts! Fruit covered in gooey warm chocolate, cake, and creme brulee!

is your muse the type to leave the last bit of food for someone else, or to take it for themselves before someone else can claim it?

She will leave it for someone else. If no one takes it after quite a bit of time, she'll ask if she can have it.

greed

what does your muse collect, if anything?

She collects pretty journals, pens, and other bujo (bullet journal) materials and stationery. She likes the promise of a blank journal, though she inevitably fills them all up with thoughts, to-do lists, grocery lists, notes for class, poems and haiku, doodles, print-outs of photos, and of course her bujo creations. Jangmi also really likes crystals! Her favorites are labradorite and rainbow moonstone.

is your muse prone to hoarding anything?

Her many journals, for sure. She still has journals from back when she was in middle school that she can't bring herself to give up.

what is your muse's financial situation? what are their financial goals?

She isn't from a well-off family. If anything, they were on the lower side of middle class. As a result, she got used to not really spending much on herself, and thus doesn't really know what to do with the money she gets from being a jujutsu sorcerer. Just uses it on rent, tuition, and daily expenses, mostly. She does treat herself with books and food, though. Her financial goals... are really just to be comfortable. She likes life the way it is right now (well, she could do without the endless studying for law school), and as long as she doesn't have kids of her own, she doesn't think she'll need more money. If she ever met someone that made her want a family, it'd change to wanting to have enough money to keep her kids happy.

wrath

does your muse like to get revenge on those they feel have wronged them?

Not really. She pushed one of her bullies down the stairs with her cursed technique once, and she felt awful about it after. And in cases like where Yuuji was killed at the detention center because of the higher-ups, rather than getting revenge, she just wants to protect the students even more fiercely in response.

how does your muse handle anger? do they have anger issues? how do they manage or vent their anger?

She cries when she's really, really angry lmao. Jangmi does not have anger issues. She's a very patient person, actually. She will vent anger through talking about it until she's all talked out, or by working out. She also journals about her feelings, so there's that, too!

does your muse believe in karma?

Curses remind her of karma--the end result of the negativity inflicted upon others or the self. It's just that with curses, they don't necessarily end up punishing the people who deserve to be. It's odd because she doesn't believe in negative karma where if you do something bad, you'll get your comeuppance later. Would she like things to be that way? Yes. Does she think things are that way? No. She does believe that good people will eventually have good things come to them, even if it takes a long time.

pride

does your muse believe they are the best at everything, even if that belief is unwarranted?

No, not at all. If anything, she believes she's not great at everything, even though the belief is highly unwarranted. Jangmi is actually really competent and capable, but the years and years of bullying have led her to believe she will never be enough.

in what areas might your muse be a little overconfident? are they overconfident in the sense that they don't have the skills to back it up, or in the sense that they do have the skills but they are obnoxious in their confidence?

She doesn't have either problem. Like I mentioned previously, she has confidence issues. Even with things like dance, where she is very good at it, she does not believe she's good enough, so though she has the skills to back up pride, she just does not hold any within her.

does your muse accept responsibility for their actions when they have done something wrong?

Yes, though sometimes, depending on what happened that she's accepting responsibility for, it may take a while for her to do so.

sloth

on what day(s) does your muse feel most lazy? at a specific time of day, or all day?

Jangmi is actually a very busy person and very rarely finds herself being lazy. So not necessarily on a specific day or time of day, but there is a specific situation in which she feels lazy: after sex. She just wants to cuddle and close her eyes and listen to the other person's breathing. Other than that time, I guess you could consider the first hour after she wakes up as "lazy," because she doesn't get straight up and get to her morning routine. Lying in bed scrolling through social media for an hour is the start of her morning routine, so she can wake up fully. She wouldn't call the scrolling through social media that she does at night "lazy" because it's for a purpose--to wait until she gets tired enough to fall asleep.

is your muse prone to procrastination?

No. With her schedule as it is, she has no room for procrastination. Her papers are always done a week before the deadline. She starts studying for exams a month beforehand. She exercises at least four times a week, for an hour or two each time.

what chores/responsibilities does your muse avoid doing at all costs?

None. As much as she hates separating the recyclables, taking the trash out, and cleaning up after cooking, she knows her place would become cluttered and, frankly, stinky if she doesn't do it in a timely manner. So she just deals with it lol.

envy

does your muse get jealous easily, or does it take a lot for them to feel it?

She is pretty patient, so she doesn't get riled up easily in general, but I guess it's a matter of what's going on. See the answer below for more details.

what kinds of things does your muse get jealous about?

She only really gets jealous in relationships. If someone came up to her partner and started hitting on them, she'd probably just stare at them. Not out of amusement or hostility, just kind of getting lost in thought wondering if it's really not obvious that she and her partner are together. So not at the point of jealousy just yet. Now if that person started getting touchy and her partner didn't do anything to stop it? She'd start getting jealous. Her jealousy is quiet and self-deprecating. She withdraws into her negative thoughts, wondering if she's not good enough.

does your muse compare themselves to others often? if so, how does it affect them?

Yes, she does. Her bullies from her youth were constantly making comparisons between her and themselves in order to make themselves feel better, and their tendency to compare passed onto her. She is constantly comparing herself to others, which is why she does not follow people on social media that she doesn't actually know. She doesn't want to be comparing the highlight reels of strangers' and acquaintances' lives to her life. In some ways it's a motivator; she always strives to better herself so she can 'catch up'... but in other ways, it just hurts.

lust

is your muse sexually active? if so, how often do they have sex? how many partners do they typically have at one time? if not, why not?

Yes! Sex with yourself is still being sexually active, right? Lmao. She's kind of the type to only sleep with someone if she knows them and trusts them, so unless she has someone in her life willing to sleep with her, she's taking care of business herself. Not a one-night-stand girlie. It just doesn't feel as good when there's no emotional connection to some degree. As for partners... she only has verses where she's with one person at a time, but I could see her in a polyamorous relationship if all the details worked out just right! Probably not more than three people, though. Oh, on that note... if her partner wanted to watch her get fucked by someone else, she'd at least try it. It wouldn't have to be someone she knows and trusts, in that case, because she trusts her partner and knows that they won't let anything bad happen.

what is your muse's sexuality? if asexual, are they sex favorable, sex indifferent, or sex repulsed?

She is pansexual! Also demisexual? If I'm understanding it correctly, I think so. She needs some form of emotional connection before she'll consider having sex with anyone.

is your muse vanilla, or are they kinky? if kinky, what are their top three kinks, and why do they like them? if vanilla, what position(s) does your muse have sex in?

She's... decently kinky. Her top three are breeding, praise kink, and size kink, in that order. I explained the why over on the post I just linked. :3 I feel like praise kink doesn't really need much of an explanation. ...Oh God I just hurt my heart thinking about how she grew up ridiculed and is starved for praise. D:

[fantasiasodapop]

May I point out that Oyster’s power was revealed to be stolen from Black Pearl via a pearl taken by her ancestor in the Moonlight Dreams update? She is a mortal, yes, but she stole that power from the mermaid and it says very clearly on Black Pearl’s loading screen that a mermaid who loses her pearl is cursed, thus the issue with her morality and sanity. So she’s not as much a powerful mortal as a thief with a shiny toy, if that makes sense. Her power has a caveat.

Also, Cream Unicorn seems to be under the Mythical Beasts category, as he is one of the few shapeshifters in the cookie realm. Kumiho, Squid Ink, Vampire, and Sorbet Shark also have this ability that makes them stand out, though only Squid Ink has a legend about them. Thoughts?

Our real question then is why Clotted is considered a Super Epic because if all others are either proto-legendaries or stole their power from a legendary being, then it goes to reason that Clotted either stole his power—which seems unlikely due to his nature and search for the soul jam—his father stole power and forced it upon him, or he was born with power or born with the ability to eventually obtain power of his own, which makes the most sense as he is descended from the Vanillian line and attracted the attention of a power-hungry man like Elder Custard.

And then we have Candy Diver Cookie, alongside Pumpkin Pie, Onion, Devil, and Angel, who are all clearly ghosts. Pumpkin Pie is shown to be summoning a demon that she calls her sister who ends up possessing Pom-Pon. Would these fall under spirits? Guides? Or would they be lesser spirits?

And what of the descendants of the Ancient Heroes? How are they classified? Custard III, Princess, and Dark Choco have abilities very similar to their predecessors, and two even possess objects that you could compare to the soul jams, even if one was a cursed sword. (Which it still bothers us that the cursed sword has a gem that is an almost exact replica of Cacao’s soul jam. Was it Choco’s own soul jam that was cursed after he obtained it, or was it cursed when he found it? Why was it cursed? What does Sovereign, who seems to be the manifestation of said curse, have to do with this?)

Sorry, but you’re diagram got us excited. It’s not everyday we see someone else who likes looking at the lore like we do, looking at every bit and piece.

Um… Thoughts? And sorry, we didn’t mean to look like we were attacking your beautiful diagram. That was our bad.

a bunch of people do their takes on the gods of the cookie world, so heres my go of the pantheon. it includes every cookie whos rarity is above epic, which is why clotted and oyster are present!

also i uh. dont know if capsaicin is in the right place? i havent gone through the tri-cone cup story yet ;^^ but he doesnt seem to be exactly mortal.

maybe the spirit section is a hot-take, but when sherbet and stardust came out, it struck me that they looked a lot like wind archer and fire spirit!

(click to read clearer!)

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Tamayo the Fugitive

Lady Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Just a fun little attempt at giving Tamayo’s origin story more meat. Also just trying to give her more love because she deserves it. Tried not to make Tamayo seem like a vampire but she basically is anyway so yeah. Word Count: 4,200

After years under Muzan’s thumb, Tamayo had finally managed escape and break his curse over her. She had nowhere to go, no one to confide in. She was utterly alone, but after all she had done, she thought it a fitting punishment.

Yes, Tamayo was finally free. She was free and it was deathly terrifying. She was constantly on edge, traveling city to city, village to village to stay off of Muzan’s radar. She had been on the road for only two months, but her refusal to kill more humans, having no shelter and no one to confide in was really taking a toll on her. What could she do? She refused to lay hand on another human and crawling back to Muzan would surely lead to a fate worse than death. She would sooner lay out in the sun than return to that monster anyway.

Currently, she was sitting within a dark cavern waiting for the sun to dip below the mountains so she could continue on her aimless journey.

From deep within the damp, musty cave, she watched the the sun reflect upon the rippling surface of a nearby pond. Her mind became blank while watching the water dance for hours and lap upon the matted wild grasses and reeds that covered the shoreline. It was the most at peace she felt in all her time a fugitive, in all her time as a demon in general, honestly.

She closed her eyes and let her head sway along with the breeze that billowed in from the mouth of the cave and listened to the bugs and frogs, as well as the occasional splash and trickling of water. It was almost enough to make her feel normal.

She hummed and the sound rung deeply within the cave, despite not being projected loudly at all. Liking the way the sound buzzed in her ears, she continued to hum an outdated melody and imagined the last several decades as nothing more than an awful nightmare. She would wake up beside her husband, he would comfort her and their children would come running and pile on top of them.

No tears, no blood, no life taken too soon nor elongated to unknowable lengths. Just her and her family for whatever time she would have had left with that dreaded disease that had made her so desperate for a cure in the first place.

Her humming harmonized with a higher tone and she startled. A laugh that was not her own echoed around her. She looked to the mouth of the cave to find a person crouched there, a sheepish grin on their face.

“I’m sorry,” they chuckled, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I heard your music and I couldn’t help but join in. The acoustics in there are surprisingly good. I could hear you from the water.

“I see.” Tamayo answered stiffly. She didn’t want to come of as rude, but the warmth radiating from the person even with the distance between them promised, hot, delicious blood and tender flesh. Having not eaten in two months, she did not want to entertain the temptation for long.

“Well, you carry on and don’t mind me. I’m just gathering some wild onions and mushrooms around the water. I just wanted to stop by and tell whoever was sitting in here that they had a very pretty voice.”

“Thank you.” Tamayo blushed.

The stranger smiled and stood up again, stretching noisily. They walked back down the path until they were level with the opening of the cave and turned to give Tamayo a friendly wave before continuing on.

Tamayo felt strange for staring, but there wasn’t much more to do while waiting for the sun to set. She watched the stranger return to their basket and bunch up the clothing around their legs so they could wade in the pond and sort through the vegetation.

She traced their form and watched them work, smiling when they got excited about a larger than average onion or found an unexpected tuber they didn’t expect to find so close to the water’s edge. She even had to suppress a giggle when they slipped on something below the water’s surface and fell in, their basket and raised forearms the only thing they managed to keep out of the water they were now fully sat in. They didn’t let that bother them though, they simply put their basket back on the shore and rung out their clothes before beginning their hunt for mushrooms.

Tamayo wasn’t sure when she had begun humming again, but it felt appropriate so she continued. Watching this person go about their day in the warmth of the sun that caressed them so gently, it made her feel warm as well. Surely, she thought, they must be quite a special person. She mentally wished them the best, hoping that brightness would never be tainted or broken as long as they lived.

As she watched them toss mushroom upon mushroom into their basket, Tamayo’s eyes closed and she committed the moment to memory. Something more she could think back on when the road got too lonely or the weather too brutal or the hunger too consuming.

She could feel the light from the cave’s entrance fading, the light behind her eyelids withdrew, leaving her in darkness rather than a film of pinkish orange. The environment was quieter now, so dusk couldn’t take much longer to fall.

Her eyes blinked open and she looked out upon the water. The person who had been gathering there and their basket were nowhere in sight. They must have gone home while Tamayo was resting her eyes. Good for them, it was dangerous at night anyway. Though she was a bit disappointed despite it.

As the last rays of sunlight fell below the horizon, Tamayo scooted out of the cave. Her plan was to keep trekking on until she made it to Tokyo and then she would try building a semblance of a life there.

She rejoined the footpath and continued in the direction she was heading the night before and nearly forty-five minutes into her walk, she heard a rustle and a pained grunt that sounded like it came from the brambles in the ravine below.

Curiously, Tamayo peered over the side of the eroded trail, a loose pebble she kicked free tumbled down below with a quiet rattle.

“Oh thank the gods, is someone there?”

A scratched up hand popped up from the brambles, making Tamayo jump.

“Are you hurt?” Tamayo called, wringing her hands together. She really should keep going until the next village popped up and have them deal with it, but who knew what kind of demons were already lurking around for their next meal?

“Mostly just stuck I think. This is so aggravating! If you could slide down carefully, you might find my hunting knife and cut through some of this stuff.”

Tamayo did as instructed, inelegantly sliding down the incline on her butt until she got to the bottom. She caught a glint of the knife in a nearby bush and snatched it up, carving a path to the hand still sticking up into the air.

“Oh, hey! It’s you!” The voice from the brambles exclaimed, “You’re a real life saver, Miss Musical Cave Dweller!”

Tamayo freed the scratched up gatherer, baffled that they could still look so happy despite the awful spill they took however long ago.

“…You’re welcome. What happened, if I may ask?”

“Walked too close to the edge I guess. Ground broke right out from under me.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tamayo swallowed. The smell of the human’s blood was sweet and very alluring.

“I’m good. My basket has seen better days through.” They sighed, retrieving the crushed basket from the brambles. “Aww, my mushrooms are, well, mush.” They chuckled warmly, giving Tamayo goosebumps.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish you luck on the rest of your journey home.” Tamayo turned and looked back up at the steep hill she would have to crawl up and sighed inwardly. It would not be a very lady-like climb.

“Don’t worry about climbing back out that way. The ground will even out eventually. You are going this direction, right?” They pointed.

Tamayo nodded hesitantly and the gatherer smiled, ushering her along. “Great! I’ll lead the way then. This is actually really good. Safety in numbers and all that. Oh! I’m (Y/n) by the way.”

“Tamayo.” The fugitive found herself sharing without thinking.

“Tamayo-san, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” (Y/n) complimented seriously. While Tamayo’s cheeks burned at the notion, (Y/n) continued onward. “I trust you live nearby, it’s a little late to have been planning to walk around the woods by yourself.”

“Yes, I live nearby.” Tamayo lied. It would only complicate things if she came off as a young, homeless woman with nowhere to go.

(Y/n) gave her a curious look, but kept whatever they were wondering to themself. They guided Tamayo out of the ravine and they walked until the stars were visible in the sky.

“How much further?” (Y/n) asked casually as they walked on, giving Tamayo pause.

“Pardon?”

“You said you lived around here. I just want to see you get home safe before I head home too.”

“Um,” Tamayo blinked rapidly as her mind raced for a plausible excuse, but kept coming up empty, “um…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” (Y/n) spoke softly, “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, I’m sorry. It’s just… you seem like you could use some help.”

Tamayo looked away and pressed the back of her hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her emotions in check. (Y/n) was trying to look out for her. Her, a demon so underserving. A hand gently rested upon her back.

“You look tired and worn. When was the last time you had a hot bath or slept in an actual bed? Had a good meal?”

Tamayo shuddered and pulled away from (Y/n)’s touch. The offer was tempting too, tempting, but (Y/n) didn’t know what they were inviting into their home. It would be unfair to take advantage of their kindness.

“I won’t make you spend the night, but come clean up and take some supplies for your journey at least.” (Y/n) persuaded.

The wind blew and carried the scent of (Y/n)’s blood towards Tamayo and she broke.

“Okay… thank you.”

“No problem, come on. We’ll only have to back track a little bit.”

Tamayo followed after (Y/n) and felt a sense of guilt wash over her. She wouldn’t kill them. She promised herself after she escaped Muzan that she would never kill again, but she was so hungry… she would wait until (Y/n) was asleep, take just enough blood to take the edge off and then leave.

“Alright, come on in. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s cozy. Homey.” Tamayo looked around and hummed appreciatively though she may have been a bit biased after being on the road for so long. It was nice. “Do you live alone?”

“Yup! Just me. Well, and Chachamaru of course.”

“Chachamaru?”

“Mow.”

Tamayo looked down to find a small kitten rubbing its sides on her ankles. She knelt down instantly to give the kitten’s fur gentle pats, cooing softly when it rolled onto its back.

“Sweet thing, isn’t he? I found him alone in the rain a couple weeks ago. I’ll get the bath ready while you two get acquainted.” (Y/n) watched the cute scene a moment more before ducking out of the room.

When (Y/n) returned, they guided Tamayo to the bath and told her to take her time before leaving her alone. Tamayo relished in the hot water, silently berating herself simultaneously. She didn’t feel she deserved this kindness being bestowed upon her. (Y/n) even set out a fresh kimono for her with a lovely red floral pattern against a deep blue. She put it on, and stepped out of the bathroom to find (Y/n).

“In here.” They called out to her.

She followed their voice, and the faint scent of blood, and found them setting up dinner. She thanked them and ate what she could stomach, wishing that the lovingly made food would do anything to stop the hunger she possessed.

She insisted on doing the dishes and when she saw (Y/n) struggling to clean their cuts, she helped them with that too. It was the very least she could do, and she really meant least.

“(Y/n)-san, if it really isn’t too much, I would appreciate it if I could stay the night.”

“Of course you can. Let me set up a room for you quick. You must be exhausted.”

Tamayo barely managed to keep her smile in place long enough for (Y/n) to leave the room. She looked down at Chachamaru and pet the kitten’s soft fur in an attempt to ease her nerves.

(Y/n) showed her to her room, bid her goodnight, and then left to go to their own room.

Tamayo laid in the dark, honing in on the sound of (Y/n)’s heart from across the hall. When it slowed in a manner indicating sleep, Tamayo forced herself out from beneath the soft comforter and crept out into the hall. She slowly slid the door to (Y/n)’s room open and knelt at their side. She took (Y/n)’s arm in her hand and leaned in, carefully reopening one of the small cuts she had cleaned only a few hours before.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered before her lips moved in for a taste. It would take some time to feed from a cut so small, but Tamayo had to pace herself in fear that she would go too far. She was still getting use to life outside of Muzan’s control.

“As long as you’re being careful, I don’t mind.”

Tamayo ripped herself away from (Y/n) in a heartbeat, not stopping until her back hit the wall. Before she could try to scramble away with several apologies falling from her lips, (Y/n) called after her.

“You don’t have to be scared it’s alright. I wasn’t really expecting this, but it’s okay!”

Asking a demon to not be afraid of a defenseless human? It was laughable! Not to mention completely backwards. She should have been telling them that, but it would be a lie. Who wouldn’t be scared of being snacked on by a demon?

“Tamayo-san, hey, it’s okay, just breathe.” (Y/n) made their approach, slowly sliding towards her on hands and knees.

“I’m sorry. I— I’m sorry!“

“Try to relax. I’m not upset with you.”

“How could you not be?” She rose her voice, disgusted with herself.

“You are a good person, Tamayo-san. You just need a little help.”

“I’m not.” Tamayo sobbed. “I’m not even a person!”

“Don’t say that!”

Tamayo was surprised by the sudden outburst. They sounded almost angry at the notion.

“You are a person, a kind person who hums to herself, helps strangers out of brambles and patches them up, and seems to really enjoy the company of cats.” (Y/n) scooted closer, “And that’s only what I managed to learn about you in a handful of hours. I bet you have more amazing qualities just waiting to shine through.”

“I don’t. I’m a monster.” Tamayo didn’t know what else this human needed to see to realize that much.

“The monsters are the ones that stay with him and heed his orders without a care.” They replied, surprising Tamayo.

“You know what I am? You know of…” She was still uneasy with speaking Muzan’s name though she had broken the curse. Even thinking of him weighed heavily on her mind.

“I tried becoming a demon slayer for a time. I wasn’t cut out for it. Even Kakushi work didn’t seem possible for me I’m afraid. I was always pretty good at sensing demons though.” They explained. “You threw me for a loop honestly. I hadn’t sensed a demon like you before. No bloodlust or sinister intentions. I wasn’t even completely sure you were one until just now.”

“I’m sorry to say your senses were wrong about me. The reason I had decided to spend the night was nothing but sinister.”

“Demon’s don’t often care to be as gentle and life preserving as you were, in case you forgot. It’s a hunger that you cannot erase, and it’s not exactly an easy thing to ask someone for. I don’t think I could blame you for that.”

Tamayo simply couldn’t understand this person’s kindness towards her. A person who had attempted to become a demon slayer no less. (Y/n) brought their arm to her face, causing Tamayo to look away in shame.

“You need to feed. You might really hurt someone if you don’t.”

She didn’t want too, but they were right. She had put off gaining nutrients for too long already. Slowly, she turned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, take what you need.”

Tamayo didn’t need more persuasion and she loathed that. She took the offered arm, lapped up the streak that had fallen in her absence and then finally latched on to the small wound.

(Y/n) jerked a bit, but when Tamayo’s eyes darted up to meet theirs, they reassured her to keep going. Though Tamayo still felt hunger gnawing at her, she pulled away when she knew she had taken more than her fair share. She didn’t want to take too much and make (Y/n) pass out.

When (Y/n) began to take their arm back Tamayo kept the limb in a gentle, yet firm hold.

“Let me clean this, it’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you.”

It amazed Tamayo how they still managed to smile so brightly at her despite everything. She ducked her head down and darted out of the bedroom to retrieve the necessary supplies.

“You are really good at this.” (Y/n) praised as Tamayo tied off the wrappings.

“When you live as long as I have, you pick up on things.” She replied sullenly. She felt awful. How was she possibly going to settle down anywhere with these cravings? She would have to aimlessly wander the country until the world ended.

She had already overstayed her welcome here, but daylight would soon be upon her again. She didn’t know if there would be enough time to make it back to the cave for the day. Nevertheless she said,

“I should take my leave now.”

Before she could even take a step in the direction of the door, (Y/n) took her by the hand.

“You should stay. Daylight isn’t far off. Besides, you need a game plan.”

“Game plan?”

“You don’t want to wander around for eternity, right? If you want to find a place to settle down, you need the tools to make it happen.”

“I don’t think I’ll be suited for such a life as I am. Pardon me for saying, but it won’t matter what tools I have at my disposal.”

“And pardon me for saying this, but I think you’re wrong.” (Y/n) said with a conspiratorial smile. “I believe you have more power than you think.”

As it would turn out, there was much more to (Y/n) than what met the eye. They showed Tamayo to a secret passage below the reinforced floor of an unassuming closet and led her to a small laboratory tightly packed with books and supplies. Some piles even reached the ceiling of the tight space.

“Sorry for the mess, not a lot of room down here, but I wanted to have a space that wouldn’t be easy to find or destroy.”

“What is all of this?”

“A few years ago, my family was slaughtered by a demon. That demon being a family friend who we had tried to shelter. He lasted about three months without blood before he lost himself and killed everyone.”

“I’m so sorry.” Tamayo gasped behind a dainty hand. So much pain, yet they still wished to help her. It was a lot to take in.

“It was awful. He remembered himself after the frenzy he went into. When I got home, he stayed only long enough to apologize and stepped out into the sun.”

Tamayo shivered.

“I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so angry and heart broken. So, I tried to join the demon slayers, the Kakushi, but as I told you before it didn’t pan out. I felt as if they had forgotten that demons were humans once too. I thought my time would be better suited trying to find a cure than spending time trying to eradicate a continuously growing problem.”

“A cure?” Tamayo marveled. She hadn’t even considered the possibility. If medicine had changed Muzan’s body, surely another could change it again.

“I have nothing substantial yet. I must admit, I’m not much of a scientist, but I have compiled a lot of research on the matter. Whatever you might know about Kibutsuji could provide useful too. You seem to have a knack for medicine as well.”

“I’ve dabbled over the years…” Tamayo modestly replied. She had been interested in medicine even before she had became a demon. (Y/n) seemed to notice the downplay and an amused huff of air left their nose.

“Okay Doctor Tamayo, let me give you a tour.”

***

Twenty Years Later

Tamayo hummed to herself as she warmed the tea when a furry body brushed against her ankles.

“Good Morning Chachamaru,” she smiled, bending down to pet the cat, “Is our (Y/n) waking up too?”

“Mow.”

“Morning.” (Y/n) spoke through a yawn. When Tamayo rose back to her full height, they draped their arms over Tamayo’s shoulders and kissed her forehead, making blush. She still wasn’t used to their displays of affection.

“Good morning, I made tea and miso.”

“I see, thank you very much. It’s so cold today.” They yawned again and snuggled closer, making Tamayo laugh.

They had come so far in those twenty short years. They felt like a blink in time for Tamayo and in a way, they were. In those years, she stayed as untouched by time as usual while (Y/n) grew older. It made her envious as well as concerned.

They still hadn’t made much headway in finding a cure. It weighed on Tamayo sometimes to watch (Y/n) grow older while she stayed the same.

“You’re thinking I’m old again, aren’t you?” (Y/n) pouted, squeezing Tamayo’s cheeks.

“No…” Tamayo could never tell (Y/n) a convincing lie to save her life.

“What was my hardworking doctor working on last night I wonder.” They noticed the sheepish look on Tamayo’s face and kissed her cheek. “You wouldn’t have to worry about me leaving you behind if you focused on the cure over trying to find out how to turn me into a demon.”

“I know, but I’m so much closer with understanding the science of demonification. I was able to turn Chachamaru after all. He’s as spry as he was when he was a kitten.”

“Okay, I’m older but I’m not hobbled old cat old.” (Y/n) joked. “I think I’ve got another good forty or fifty years in me.”

They then saw a sorrowful look cross Tamayo’s face and they held her closer, letting her bury her face in their shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” they comforted, “Even if I don’t see the day a cure is developed. You keep working hard, okay?”

“I don’t think I could do it without you. I really don’t.” Tamayo sniffled, “I’ve already had to lose so much. I don’t want to lose you too,” she pulled back slightly, “If I do figure out how to turn humans, would you let me?”

“Then who would you get your blood from? Where would I?”

“We’d go to Tokyo like we talked about and buy blood under the guise of using it for transfusions. There are more opportunities in the city, as you’ve said. Perhaps we’d learn more there than we could here. There is so much innovation in the cities, I’m sure we could find something.” Tamayo spoke passionately, (Y/n) watched her continue reasoning with adoration until they motioned her to quiet herself.

“If you do figure it out, as I am sure you will my clever doctor, then I won’t leave your side for as long as the earth spins. We both know what it’s like to lose all too well. For you, I will stay if that is what you desire.”

“Of course.” Tamayo squeezed (Y/n) tight. A life as a demon was a lot to ask someone for. She would take full responsibility. Should the time come that they would pass on, she would take any repercussions for her choices with her head held high. “Thank you.”

Tamayo’s gaze shifted shyly between their lips and eyes, a cautious and silent question that was soon answered when they closed the distance between them.

Tamayo would figure out how Muzan spread his disease and how to destroy it one day, but for this morning all she wanted was to be held and fantasize about a normal life with (Y/n) a little while longer.

As they swayed in each other’s embrace, the tea and miso growing cold, Tamayo hummed a peaceful melody and (Y/n) harmonized along, reminding the demon doctor of an craggy cave and a weedy pond on a warm summer’s day.

[natashawritesstuff]

 happy birthday- oikawa x reader

characters: Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Aoba Johsai team 

warnings : cursing, raw angst 

fem! reader 

IWAIZUMI: Happy birthday, hope it’s a good one.

Kunimi-kun: hbd. 

Onion- head: Happy Bruthday thanks for what you do for the team!

Onion-head: brithday*

Onion-head: birthday**

Mad-puppy: you’re 18 now

“I don’t- I don’t even know how to respond to that,” you whisper to yourself. 

But, as weird as it was he was right, you were eighteen, as of today that it is. Happy birthday to you. You scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes answering back texts from the team and even getting one from Coach Irihata, which was more of him acknowledging that it was your birthday but saying this does not warrant an excuse to skip out on manager duties than it was anything else.

         Either way, he was one of the first to text you, which is more than you can say for your boyfriend, Oikawa, who hadn’t texted you at all. He would usually spam you with messages or call you just to tell you how much he loves you the moment his clock read midnight, yet this time, you had woken up to not a single notification from him. Strange but not a big deal, it was still early, nothing to worry about, especially since you would see him at school, so he’d probably say something then. 

You get ready and walk out of your house and immediately once you open the door you have a gift all but shoved in your face. You pull the bag down to see Iwaizumi standing in front of you with a small grin. 

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you say as you lightly laugh before looking in the bag, and you gasp upon seeing what he got you, “you didn’t.”

“I did,” he confirms. 

“I have the best friend ever.”

“Shut up,” he teases. 

“I’m gonna go put this up and then we can walk to school together kay?”

“Huh? I just came to drop this off doesn’t Shittykawa usually take you on your birthday? Where is he?”

“Um- didn’t text me yet,” you wince.

“Really?” he asks, shocked.

“Yeah, it’s fine though, he probably just slept in,” you reason, opening the front door back up, setting the gift down, and closing it again. “Let’s go.”

You both arrive at school hearing the familiar sound of fangirls screaming out your boyfriend's name as they circled around him. So he was awake, oh. The first bell rings and the fangirls thin out enough for him to see you. 

“Baby,” he beams and starts to walk towards you with his arms out as the remaining fangirls groan in disappointment. 

He pulls you in for a hug and purposely places a loud obnoxious kiss on your forehead to Iwaizumi’s annoyance to which he rolls his eyes and walks away. 

“Hey,” you say hopefully, hoping your tone would be enough of a hint.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“You look so pretty today.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Of course, let me walk you to class.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

The two of you had different homerooms so he takes you to your class and pulls you back before you go in. He kisses you again, this time on your lips, and smiles. 

“I’ll see you at practice okay?”

“Yep.”

He walks away and you walk in only to have confetti thrown at you when you’re barely two steps in the class. 

“Happy birthday!” your friends, the twins: Hina and Rina scream.

“Thank you,” you sheepishly smile and begin slowly picking confetti out of your hair.

“You’re gonna get your gift later,” Hina promises. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Come on, we're your best friends,” Rina says. 

“I would say Hajime is more of my best friend-”

“What was that?” Hina cuts you off.

“Nothing,” you coward.

Throughout the day, you got birthday wishes as you passed through the halls and your phone continues to vibrate with messages from friends and classmates. But still not one from the person you wanted most. That was until finally as the school day ended, your phone was finally lit up with a notification from him. 

Tooru<3: come to the gym beautiful ;) 

“Finally,” you whisper, then rush over to the gym. 

Once again, you have confetti tangled in your hair the moment you step into a  room as the team screams, “surprise.”

“Awww you guys didn’t have to do all this. Just knowing you remembered was enough.”

“Like we’d do any less for our amazing manager,” Hanamaki says and comes over to give you a hug. 

“I appreciate it.”

“And I’d appreciate someone cleaning up all of this crap,” Coach chimes in. “I’d also appreciate the captain actually showing up to practice,” he grumbles before walking into the storage room for a broom.

“What? Kawa’s not here?”

“Uh, I’m right here,” Matsukawa jokes.

“You know what I mean,” you laugh. “Really though, where’s Oikawa? He texted to meet me here.”

“Oh you didn’t respond to me so I figured you would him, but he’s not coming, something with his nephew, he told us that he’d meet you at your place though.”

“Oh, okay,” you say excitedly as Coach loudly clears his throat. 

You all turn around to see him holding two brooms, waiting for someone to take them. 

“I- I’m the birthday girl-”

“Great so the birthday girl and her best friend can clean up!” he happily suggests, shoving you and Iwaizumi a broom each. 

The rest of the team laugh until you both go back to face them and the room goes silent. The two of you high-five as you whisper, “still got it.”

After practice is over, Iwaizumi decides to walk you home as it was getting dark and your neighborhood was on the way to his. He waves goodbye at the sidewalk in front of your house and you smile as you notice your boyfriend, standing on the porch with a gift. 

“Hey,” you call. 

“Hey, baby.”

As you get closer he pulls you in for a hug before handing you the gift. 

“I was starting to get worried-” you mumble.

“The twins dropped that off when I got here.”

“What.”

“Yeah, they said that they had to go babysit and they couldn’t stay, but they wanted me to give that to you.”

No, he didn’t, he couldn’t have. 

“I-”

“But do you have it?”

“Have what?”

“My jacket, I said I needed it back for the game.”

He did.

“Oh, shit that’s embarrassing,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing- I’m gonna go get your jacket, you can wait here,” you say quickly before running upstairs. 

You accidentally leave the door open, wide enough for Oikawa to see all of the presents left in your living room and the giant one and eight balloons hanging by the stairs. 

Before he even has time to curse himself you came back down shoving the jacket at him. 

“Y/N I am-”

“Fuck off,” you interrupt him and slam the door in his face. 

It was nearing midnight as you sit in your kitchen picking at the birthday cake Iwaizumi had ordered just for you. But with your tears dripping on the frosting it made the cake less than appetizing. You get up and put the cake in the fridge then aggressively wipe the tears off your face as they continue to fall to try and convince yourself that you’re not sad. To try and forget that your boyfriend of three years, the boy you’ve known since you were ten didn’t forget your birthday. Except he did. And that was something you’d never be able to forget. 

Your phone starts ringing at the end of the counter and you turn it over to see who was calling: Oikawa. You decline the call but as soon as you do there’s a knock at your door. 

Begrudgingly, you walk over to the front and peer through the peephole, almost flinching away once you see your boyfriend on the other side of the door. 

“Y/N. Let me in please,” he begged. “Y/N.”

You open your mouth to speak but instead say nothing. 

“I got the flowers you like- and the bear you wanted- and then the necklace and candy, Y/N I swear I never wanted- I never meant to forget. I shouldn’t have forgot- it’s just that with practice-”

You sigh. 

“That’s not an excuse, shit nothing excuses this I just-”

He continues to ramble on and you slide down the door listening to him go on and on saying practically everything but the phrase you wanted to hear. 

“I love you, baby just please- please don’t- I’ll wait as long as it takes okay, however long it takes. I wanna fix this, just open the door so I can fix this.”

You hear his voice grow more defeated by each word he speaks. You cover your mouth with your hand to try and silence your cries as now there was no possible way you could stop the tears from falling; so the least you could do was make them quiet. 

“Y/N,” he says breathlessly. “Happy birthday baby.”

He stops talking after that and you check your phone before you pull yourself off of the ground. Your hand hovers over the doorknob before inevitably opening it. 

Oikawa’s eyes were bloodshot and his face was just as tearstained as yours was but you struggled to find the compassion to care. 

“You’re too late,” was all you said. 

“What?”

Slowly you turn the phone towards him showing him the time. 

12:01 am

happy birthday

for a fluffy birthday with oikawa happy birthday, love

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[baoshan-sanren]

Hi...how are you? If you don't mind me asking what is your top 5 fav danmei novels (until now)? And why? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....

jfhdkhgfdjhdjks I JUST finished Peerless so that’s going first on my list bc I am weak and I WANT MORE

Peerless (无双) by Meng Xi Shi - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-187) (extras 1-4) (not explicit) I am fckn IN LOVE with this novel. Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu are the most brilliant fucking morons I’ve ever met in my life. This is a slow build of all the slow builds, murder, intrigue, so much stupidity, court dramas, martial arts fights, levels of arrogance that would make even Yan Wushi shake his head (who does show up in a tiny little cameo in one of the chapters). The book is split up in five arcs that allow for a pause in between, if you find 190+ chapters to be too much for a continuous read through, but I would have flown through them in a space of a few days, if life hadn’t turned upside down on me. Now that I’m finally done, I miss these morons more than I’ve ever missed two fictional characters. This novel will def end up in my top five for a long time.

The Wife is First (妻为上) by Lu Ye Qian He - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-5) (chapters 6-85 ongoing) (explicit) This is still, by far, the most feel-good danmei I’ve ever read. Jing Shao dies, then gets to relive his life all over again from the night of his wedding to Jun Qing. The beginning may be rough for some readers bc Jing Shao, despite getting another chance at life, has nonetheless arrived too late to prevent his first offense against the man he married (can you hear me screaming about hurt/comfort!). But from that point on, he is determined to do things differently, so the story that had been one of misery in his previous life, turns into one of love and devotion (and some very satisfying court scheming) in this one. It is an extremely satisfying read, and the relationship between the two mains, despite its rough start, is so goddamn lovely, I can’t recommend it enough. 

The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (人渣反派自救系统) by Mò Xiāng Tóngxiù - (physical novel purchase link) (chapters 1-80) (extras 80-98) (chapters 1-53 ongoing) (explicit) Yeah, this is my baby. I’ll admit off the bat I’ve read svsss at least ten times, which is five times more than either tgcf or mdzs. It’s hilarious, frustrating, insightful, feral, infuriating, and pretty fucking amazing, all at once, and all of it overlapping. I’ve written essays upon essays about mxtx’s creative choices in this novel, most of which will never see the light of day. This damn thing is so ridiculously rough on the surface, but svsss, for me, is like a damn onion, and every time I read it, I peel more layers off and find something else new underneath. I fucking love this damn novel, and you will only pry it from my cold dead hands. 

Lord Seventh (七爷) by Priest - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-5) (chapters 6-7) (chapters 8-32) (chapters 33-76) (extras 1-3) (semi-explicit?) It’s kind of a crime that this is the only Priest novel on this list, but if I can only list five, I’m gonna try and not double up on authors. Highly, highly, recommend this, especially to people who plan to read Faraway Wanderers. Zhou ZiShu’s background doesn’t take up a large part of the story, but the environment in which he thrived at court tells you much more about him as a person than the first fifty chapters of tyk do (and in much more stark terms). Jing Beiyuan is an absolute fucking delight, a man who had reincarnated multiple times, but managed to keep all of his memories of his previous (pretty terrible) lives. His sense of humor is therefore honed to the nth degree, and he is simultaneously a giant gremlin who takes nothing and no one seriously, but is also utterly done with everyone’s shit. Basically a story about being destined to forever be entangled with another person, and then deliberately choosing not to be. I love this goddamn novel to pieces. 

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (二哈和他的白猫师尊) by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat - (jjwxc link) (chapters 1-4) (chapters 5-149 ongoing) (heavily explicit) This fucking novel haunts me. It’s been over a year since I’ve read it, and I still sometimes lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about the nature of life, love, forgiveness, and redemption (and then I curse Meatbun to high heaven). I once described reading 2ha as being stuffed feet-first into a wood-chipper for 200 out of 300+ chapters, and I still hold to that description. But this is, hands down, one of the most hauntingly beautiful novels I’ve ever read. To anyone who intends to read it, I highly recommend checking out a detailed list of content warnings first, buying three boxes of tissues, and being ready to have your life ruined for good. 

Once again, I ask those who are willing and able, to buy the original novels and support the authors. (jjwxc buying guide for english-speakers here)

[amethyystfox]

That last point is really important. In today's pop culture, the name "Sherlock" is synonymous with a very intelligent, very observant person, but if you were picking up a copy of the Strand Magazine in the 1890s you wouldn't know that because that pop culture reference hadn't been made yet. Technically, the first Sherlock Holmes story was the novel A Study In Scarlet, but it didn't sell well at first. Arthur Conan Doyle, the author, didn't mind because he had written it in two weeks. At the beginning of his career, Doyle was more quantity over quality. The Strand Magazine fit him perfectly.

And that's an important point, because The Strand was a magazine full of fiction stories aimed at the middle class. It was never supposed to be particularly high brow. Sherlock suffers from what I think of as "the Shakespeare curse" in that in our time, we look back on Britain in the Victorian Era and think of it as very posh and fancy but at the time, Sherlock was just a dude. The vibe of the original would basically be like if Knives Out / Glass Onion was a series with 1 hr long standalone episodes that dropped on Netflix at a rate of one a month.

And, btw? Like Benoit Blanc, part of the charm was that the audience was supposed to like Sherlock. He was smart, yes, guaranteed to be the smartest in the room with a few exceptions. But the BBC Sherlock Holmes is a dick, and the original just wasn't. Watson noted in The Adventure of the Dying Detective that Mrs. Hudson likes Sherlock due to his "remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his dealings with women." In The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb, this is how he responds to a mysterious wounded man coming to his home: "He received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach. “It is easy to see your experience has been no common one, Mr. Hatherley,” he said. “Pray, lie down there are make yourself absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant.” The BBC version would have tossed the man out on his ear. He routinely interrupted potential clients with a "boring" and that was that. And he was borderline abusive to poor Mrs. Hudson.

So, absolutely, making Sherlock Holmes a jackass does the character, and the audience, a huge disservice.

honestly it was a red flag when bbc sherlock went “well obviously the word written in blood isn’t the german word for revenge, it’s clearly the beginning of the name ‘rachel’, what absolute idiot would fail to see that” when in the original novel it is, in fact, the german word for revenge, which sherlock points out gleefully to a roomful of policemen who all figure it’s the beginning of the name ‘rachel.’

and by red flag I mean it was a clear sign that the adaptation was trying to one-up the source material, instead of engaging with it with love.

[automeris-io-moth]

A chase back home pt. 2

Pt. 1

Hero was taught from very young the importance of community, the ought to respect and honor a misinterpreted, modified for the better some said, oligarchy settled upon his lands, and, as well, to represent proudly the flag of his town, of the empire he served, with dignity, purity and graciousness.

One part, he knew, was already lost, purity had poured out and wasted, filtering through the dirt of the Archaic Greenwall Forest -or just the Green Forest for those aiming to lessen the threat it before represented - a cold autumn night. There were, after his return, no words of comfort or tries to make him feel less at fault for having been given something he had not asked for. 

It was lost, his professor told him, the purity he had to strive to preserve, and his blood, as his soul and very root of being, were tainted by the hands of a monster he had not even properly met yet. 

He was dirty, and the least he could seek for, was to be servicial of the people, to have dignity and graciousness to fulfil his new role, and perhaps, then, the sins placed upon his shoulders would be forgiven. 

“Very well,” an elder said, quiet till then, when the room was left silent after the young warlock left with a slam of the doors and a frown on his face “it is decided then, Hero will lead the attack back in the Green Forest.” 

His face turned to the elder in a snap, almost if surprised by her words, then, he looked at Leader, noticing the same face of confusion and the want to say something hanging from his open mouth. Yet both knew better than to question a direct order as openly as they wished. 

Leader cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Elder, did you mean lead?” 

“Yes I did,” she answered, leaning forward into the white crystal table. “No one knows the Green Forest better than Hero, given his previous stay there, and I will not risk my troops going further inside the limits settled by this rather unstable warlock.” 

Warlock was spat out of her mouth quickly, as a curse or an insult, something dirty which could not stain the place it was spoken in, nor the mouth that said it. 

“But do you think it’s prudent to…?” 

“Indeed,” the elder interrupted, “I do think it is, it is perhaps time our own Warlock demonstrates he is to trust, the consequences, I trust he knows, of disobedience will be quite rough.” 

Hero swallowed, sinking back into the chair. 

***

Leaves cracked underneath his boots, autumn was, as well as Heros, his preferred season. 

Warlock carried with him a sack of apples, a rabbit ready for stew, potatoes, onions, and a helping of flowers from the town outside the council’s hall. 

Golden coins were often left on the trail from frightened merchants trying to cut times going through the valleys that crossed the forest, and distracted children which entered to play, and they, when living within the confines, meant nothing. You could buy not what the soil and the water gave you, and any deals with the fae and the being which shared the lands were never done through gold, silver or iron, but through rock and jewels and favours. 

Little use had golden coins to him, so in their few travels in the towns, they spent them unconcernedly. 

***

“Welcome home,” Lover said, a worried gaze directed towards him “how did everything go?”

Warlocked sighed, leaving the sacks on the table of the cottage and melting in one of the chairs, extending his arms to the other. 

“I don’t know,” he blurted at the embrace. “I hope well, our patron grows more restless each day, and I see you get so worried lately, I’m getting… a weird feeling.” 

Lover laughed. 

“You’re getting worried too, that’s how it’s called.” 

“I don’t like it, I need to fix it.” 

“You’re not alone in this, I will drag Hero back here kicking if that assures us he’s safe, and we find peace,” she answered, softly, as her hands nestled his face “but let’s give him some time to find home by himself.” 

_

Ok and there goes part two.

It was actually planned for this past weekend but I forgot to schedule it to go and hadn't noticed my oversight.

But here it is, at last.

Hope you like it :)

bye

[1kook]

one man, no hands

— a some way, some how jungkook drabble summary “Just my mouth,” he reassures you, rough hands slipping beneath the sides of your skirt, urging you to lift your hips as he nudges it over your tummy. “Promise.” warnings established relationship, mechanic jungkook, business woman oc, cunnilingus / eatin out, jk is dirty like in the literal sense rating m (18+) wc 2.5k 

notes am i confident in the title? no. am i stubborn and feel like it has to follow this pattern out of some weird self made obligation? yes, please help me. anyway here is 🔧⚙️ jk and his hot girlfriend once more <3

For the most part, you like to believe you were a pretty composed person. Sure, there are a few instances in your personal history where you exploded, sobbed, cursed the planet to hell and back. But given your chosen career track and the amount of stupidity you dealt with on a daily basis, you’re significantly more mild-mannered compared to your peers. That being said, you were by no means the dictionary definition of serene. After a long day of meeting clients around the city, a rather unsatisfying lunch, and atrocious city traffic—all while breaking in a new pair of heels—there was nothing more satisfying than pulling up to Jungkook’s empty auto shop and huffing out one long, “fuuuck.”

Jungkook doesn’t mind. “Hey, gorgeous,” he calls from over his shoulder, looming over the open hood of yet another innocent vehicle. The metal table beside him holds every tool imaginable. “How’s my sexy department manager doing today?”

“Terrible,” you confess, heels clicking against the concrete floor. You realize he’s hunched over his own car today, a rather rare sight if you’re being completely honest. Jungkook wasn’t the biggest fan of working on his own car(s) at the shop, something about pride and refusing to admit something was wrong with them in front of people who looked up to him. Men, you chuckle, finally closing in on him. 

He’s terribly sweaty, the sweltering heat turning the inside of the garage into a human microwave. “How’s my sexy mechanic doing today,” you hum, throwing all reservations aside to lean over and press a kiss against his cheek. Jungkook, as always, makes sure to nuzzle into the touch. 

“Pretty good,” he replies, taking advantage of your affectionate nature to set aside the tool that had been in his hand. You watch his sturdy fingers reach for the hood of the car, carefully shutting it because he knows you hate the smell of metal. The rag tucked into the pocket of his red jumpsuit is littered with stains, and the half-assed wipe of his hands against it doesn’t help. 

When he turns, that same hand attempts to reach for you, the remnants of oil buried beneath the tips of his fingernails. “Hey,” you warn, intercepting him at the wrist; you’ve spent one too many nights at the local laundromat trying to remove oil from tweed. 

Jungkook frowns, shakes his head to the side in that infuriatingly sexy way that not only lets you see the dark furrow of his shapely brows, but also has the tendons in his neck bulging just the slightest. “Give me a kiss,” he pouts, pretty pink lips fighting off a smile. “I missed you.”

Hands holding onto his wrists, you lean forward, your pointed heel tapping against the dirty toe of his work boots. 

One of your greatest contributions to society was introducing Jungkook to strawberry flavored chapstick, a deed that the universe pays you back tenfold with each kiss he bestows upon you, lips so soft and sweet. If you look past the distinct smells of the auto shop and Jungkook’s own natural scent, you swear you can smell the strawberries. 

It is as you’re trapped in this train of thought that Jungkook manages to overpower you, abruptly stepping forward enough to throw you off balance. Your gravity shifts, and while your heartbeat may spike for a moment, you know he’d never let you fall. “Easy there, beautiful,” he grins, one tatted arm wrapped around you. He’s got that stupidly cocky grin on, the one that usually proceeds some stupid or horny thought. 

Lo and behold, a second later he says, “can I eat you out?”

You roll your eyes, placing two hands against his chest. Jungkook takes it as a sign of your approval and moves in for a second kiss, only for you to shove him away with a huff. “You haven’t even showered, smelly,” you chide, straightening out the front of your blazer in a rather snooty manner that has Jungkook scoffing. 

“Please?” he tries again, not the slightest bit phased by the unimpressed look you throw his way. “I’ll wash my hands.”

“Jungkook,” you level, settling into one of the many rolling seats that decorate the floor of Jungkook’s garage, your cell phone placed down on the metal table nearby. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the familiar paper wrapping of the deli down the street, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you eat at Shin’s for lunch? I don’t want your onion breath on my intimates.”

Jungkook steps in front of you, looking down at you with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Well then,” he says calmly, and then, drops to his knees in front of you. It has you jolting in surprise. Before you can accidentally send yourself rolling across the floor, Jungkook catches your ankle in one hand, tugging you forward until your knee presses against his side. “It’s a good thing that was Jimin’s lunch and not mine.” 

“Kook,” you gasp, the muscles in your legs weak against the grip he has on the back of your knees. The muscles in his forearms tense up as he slowly pries your thighs apart, leaning down to place a rather soft kiss against your knee. The tenderness of his kiss shouldn’t be surprising, but it never fails to make you inhale sharply, hands slowly coming to rest against his shoulders. 

The brush of your fingers against him has his eyes flickering up to meet yours, strawberry sweet lips curling into a smile. “Just my mouth,” he reassures you, rough hands slipping beneath the sides of your skirt, urging you to lift your hips as he nudges it over your tummy. “Promise.”

One shaky exhale later, you find yourself slowly nodding along, fingers burying themselves within the dark tresses of his hair. “No hands,” you remind him one final time, letting him manhandle you out of your panties. “And be gen—“

Your words are swallowed up by the surprised squeak that slips through your lips upon Jungkook’s first long lick over your slit. “I’ve got you,” he chuckles, the low and breathy kind that makes your skin tingle. “Hold on to me.”

“What the— fuck!” you exclaim, pulling at his hair in sheer fright when he whirls your chair around suddenly, pushes you the three feet until your chair is bumping against the front of his bumper, appropriately named. “Jungkook,” you scold, roughly yanking him up by his hair. “Don’t do that.”

“Shh,” he hushes, but the shock still has your heart thumping a little too quickly. You pinch his ear. Jungkook shakes you off just as quickly, throws you a childish glare. “You’ll need the support.”

The opportunity to question him never comes, because a second later Jungkook is tugging you forward in your seat, knees neatly placed over his shoulders for easy access to your pussy. You did need the support, you realize, back pressed against the curve of the hood as Jungkook begins the rather torturous process of teasing you. 

As promised, his hands rest over your thighs, thick fingers digging into the soft skin as he descends upon you, one featherlight kiss pressed against your mound. The polite greeting of his lips is followed by the not-so-polite greeting of his tongue, the warm and wet muscle caressing your clit. 

Your breathing hitches, a pleasant warmth settling in your core. It blossoms quickly, stamps out the remnants of fear from a few minutes ago. Jungkook’s tongue plays a key role in that change, nudging your clit back and forth carefully as he listens to the subtle alterations in your breathing. 

After the day you’ve had, the delicate way Jungkook laps against you has you melting, both into his touch and against the cold metal of the hood behind you. “Oh,” you pant, eyelids fluttering at the kiss he places against your labia. 

He’s relatively quiet today, just soft sighs against your cunt. Without his hands, you’re surprised by how easily he navigates his way along your lips, tongue nudging your folds apart. The round tip of his nose throws you for a loop as he kisses down your slit, the soft skin unintentionally brushing against your throbbing clit. (Or maybe intentionally— you never really knew with Jungkook.)

At your quivering entrance, he pauses, pulling back with glistening lips and dark eyes. “Good?” he murmurs, tongue peeking out at the corner to trace across his red lips. Another shake of his head, dark strands tickling his cheekbones. 

“So good,” you exhale, releasing one hand from it’s trembling grip in his hair. You press it against the side of Jungkook’s face instead. Briefly, the tips of your fingers brush against his ear, an action that makes his eyelashes flutter, mouth dropping open just as your thumb presses against his lower lip. “Make me cum,” you command, as if you aren’t completely at his mercy right now. 

Still, Jungkook humors you. His pearly teeth playfully bite down against your thumb, a smile making its way across his features when you pull away. “You got it, boss,” he teases. 

You roll your eyes. “You’re the boss here,” you mumble, shivers running down your spine when he ducks back down once more. 

Lips suctioned around your clit, your thighs quiver beneath his touch. A soft whine pulls itself from your throat, hand jerking forward to grasp at the white undershirt he’s got on, stained like always. Jungkook ups the intensity, pulling away with a loud pop only to bestow a chaste kiss against your sensitive clit. “Please,” you whimper. It takes every last remaining ounce of self-control to keep yourself from accidentally clamping your legs shut around him, hips jerking forward as he licks his way down your slit once more. 

His tongue dips its way between your folds, over your quivering opening, as if he’s circling where he’ll pleasure you next. A second later, you feel your entire body tense up momentarily as he slips his tongue in. It’s nowhere near as girthy as his cock, barely comes close to two of his fingers. But there’s something about Jungkook being so close, mouth against your pussy, that sends a shock of electricity straight there. 

“Oh— Oh, god,” you sigh, head lolling back, tapping against the hood of Jungkook’s car. 

The fingers digging into your skin tighten to the point of bruising, his hands growing anxious with every breathless moan drawn out from you. His plush lower lip is warm against your puffy skin, hot breath fanning over your wet folds as his tongue slowly works its way in and out. Slow, painstakingly slow. The speed has you growing restless, legs threatening to lock around his head, pushing him against your cunt until he can’t breathe. 

It’s a good thing Jungkook is the one in control, his flattened tongue trailing one, long lick over your pussy. It starts at your entrance, glistening with arousal and his saliva, and ends at your clit. You’re almost certain you can feel your heartbeat through the bundle of nerves, releasing a loud cry at the way the tip of his tongue flicks against it once more. 

The muscles in your legs, tired from walking all across the city, spasm beneath his ministrations. Your shoulders, tight from the weight of your responsibilities, relax back against the warm metal hood. Every kiss Jungkook places against you has you melting, feeling so unbelievably pampered. “Fuck, J- Jungkook— baby,” you whimper, letting go of his shoulder to bite down on your knuckles. 

Jungkook breathes harshly against you, brows furrowed together as he focuses on making you feel good. The sight of his handsome face buried between your thighs makes you shiver, jolt when he pushes his tongue into your entrance once more and begins slowly thrusting it in and out. It’s so wet, mixes with your arousal and makes this lewd sound that only fans the flames of your pleasure, fingernails pressed against his shoulders and then burying themselves against his scalp. 

It doesn’t take much longer, fatigue and pleasure catching up to you all at once, accumulating in a toe-curling orgasm unlike your usual ones. It’s quieter, filled with stuttered gasps instead, Jungkook’s name occasionally finding its way into the mix. By the end of it, you find yourself fretting over the state of your boyfriend’s scalp, having pulled it roughly at the height of your pleasure. 

“How cute,” Jungkook hums softly, eventually releasing one of your trapped legs from over his shoulder. He rubs the back of his hand over his mouth and chin, transferring a dark stain of something onto his porcelain skin. In that moment, you’re glad you banned the usage of his hands on your pussy. Without anything to hold it up, your leg slips down, the impact of your heel against the concrete sending a tingling pain up your leg. 

“Ouch,” you murmur, and then find yourself demurely covering your exposed pussy, still glistening with cum and saliva. At your modesty, Jungkook snorts, releasing your other leg only to surge forward and knock his forehead against yours. “Ouch,” you repeat, the stinging pain exacerbated when Jungkook pushes himself closer.

“So, what do you say?” he asks, smiles that devilish smile that makes him look like a Calvin Klein model. His hands are at your waist, helping you tug your skirt back down. It’s nothing grand, but your rose-tinted view makes you swoon at the way he manhandles you. He’s dangerously handsome, has you mindlessly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Say about what?” you mumble, hypnotized by the cherry hue of his lips, and the fact they probably taste like you. 

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, like he’s going to kiss you. Instead, he pauses just in time to say, “how was my onion breath?” 

You’ve never pushed someone away fast enough, nearly impaling him with the sharpened heel of your shoe against his chest. It sends him tumbling back, a rough cough mixed with a boyish chuckle, the dorky kind as he sprawls himself over the dirty concrete floor of his auto shop. It’s as you’re glaring down at your immature boyfriend and what you’re certain is a tiny puddle of motor oil beside his head, that you realize this is your life now. Men, you think bitterly. 

“I hate you,” you announce childishly. You find your discarded panties on the metal table beside a goddamn wrench. You fling it at his chest, only the slightest bit turned on when he raises it up for a sniff. “Mmm,” he purrs, letting the flimsy fabric rest over his eyes. You don’t even have it in you to scold him on how dirty that is, instead nudging his side with your shoe. “You know,” he says, catching your ankle in his hand. He guides your foot over him, surprising you when he places it directly over his chest. “I had a dream like this in high school,” he confesses, making your face heat up. “Think it was because of those 50 Shades of Grey books we found in your attic.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[ragingbookdragon]

When The Music's Not Forgotten PT. 1

Green Lantern!Reader x Lantern Family Story!

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Violence

Author's Note: I legit had a breakdown trying to think about what to label this fic as. Almost put 'Batsis' but then I realized it's not Batsis nor Lantern!Sis so I was like...uh...what do I do? We'll figure it out. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Her first thought when she opened the front door to the Coast City apartment and saw her dad in a headlock by Kyle and Kyle in a headlock by Guy who was in one by John, who was in one by her dad, was: this is totally and completely normal.

The second thought: that nothing involving her father and uncles ever surprised her anymore, occurred to her as said father and said uncles stopped arguing with one another and cocked their heads up, looking at her, each of their faces exhibiting the epitome of “I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar” shock, in which she merely returned with a blank stare before closing the door behind her, marching into the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Of course, that also meant the second she did, they were stumbling in to explain what had brought them to the unfortunate moment of head-locking each other, but also to see what she’d bought and what she was going to cook for dinner. She paid them no mind, ducking under arms and between bodies as she maneuvered around them kitchen, putting things away.

Someone curled an arm around her neck, pressing their lips to her temple. “Hey Raptor.”

She smiled. “Hey dad.” Tossing a beer behind her, she added, “Uncle Guy. Uncle John. Kyle.”

Guy caught his beer, popping the tab, and Kyle looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come everyone else is ‘uncle’ and I’m not?” he looked hurt. “Am I somehow different, (Y/N)?”

She paused and threw another beer behind her. “Kyle, were almost the same age. I’m not calling you my uncle because John and Guy are older than both of us.”

“Not that much,” he griped, popping his beer tab. “It still hurts my feelings.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and handed John the final beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I considered you to be my favorite cousin?”

Kyle smiled at her. “Yes, it would.”

She nodded then glanced at Hal. “Dad, tacos or burgers?”

“I dunno.” He said, glancing at the others. “You guys?”

“Burgers.”

“Tacos.”

“Burgers.”

She cocked a brow and looked at her father. “Seems like you’ll either make a tie or a win.”

“I have been thinking about good tacos, Raptor,” he replied, and she nodded.

“Tacos it is.” Guy and John groaned, and she shot them a glare. “Hey! Lock that shit up or I’m not cookin’.” Immediately they shut their mouths, listening to Kyle and Hal snicker. “Buncha children.” She griped, dumping the ground beef into a skillet to brown.

“So, (Y/N),” Guy drawled, leaning against the kitchen counter. And honestly, the entire kitchen was way too small for four grown men and a grown woman to be in at one time, but she’d gotten used to it, so why fix what wasn’t broke.

“So, Uncle Guy.” She repeated, shifting the meat around with the spatula.

“Why exactly did you start working at the Wayne Enterprises branch here?”

She could feel the eyes of her family on her back, and she couldn’t help but roll hers. “Maybe because Mister Wayne pays good salaries to his employees and his health insurance coverage is fantastic?” (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “But something tells me you’re asking for another answer.”

He grinned. “Which son of Wayne’s are you dating?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” She turned back to the pan. “I’m not dating any of his sons. Dick’s with Koriand’r, Jason’s a douche-bag, and their brothers are way too young.”

“Doesn’t he have a daughter?”

“Cass is dating a girl she goes to college with.” She took an onion from the basket against the kitchen wall atop the counter. “Keep digging though, Uncle Guy. You’ll hit rock bottom soon enough.”

“Does that mean you’re dating the big Bat?”

She almost cried from laughter as Hal choked on his beer and spluttered. “No. I’m not dating Mister Wayne. He’s old enough to be my dad.”

John chuckled. “I don’t know, (Y/N). When you first met Bruce at, what? Ten? You told him you were going to marry him.”

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at them. “I meant Batman because he was kind-hearted, and I was totally awestruck as a little girl. Let it go.” Her eyes fell on Hal. “Dad, tell ‘em to let it go.”

He nodded. “Please let it go.” Kyle started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and while the others snickered, Hal screwed his eyes shut. “Oh God, stop. I don’t want to think about my precious baby anywhere near that anal retentive kitchen scale.”

The other snickered and before she could say anything, their rings started beeping. She looked at them as their faces turned solemn, setting their beers down as their suits flashed to life.

“Trouble on Oa,” John said.

“Gotta fly?” she asked, and Hal nodded, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“Gotta fly, Raptor.” He hugged her quickly and followed John and the others to the balcony. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad.” (Y/N) waved. “Be careful, Corpsmen.” They all waved at her and took off, leaving her in the apartment alone and she sighed, turning back to the kitchen. “Another dinner…alone.” She couldn’t help but deflate. “Wonderful.”

***

She continued cooking for almost an hour when the balcony doors opened and closed, and she smiled. “Hey guys. You’re back rather early.” When she didn’t hear a response, she immediately fell on guard and she took one of the kitchen knives from its holder, brandishing it.

Carefully, she walked into the dimly lit living room, eyes scanning the expanse for whoever was in the apartment with her. None of the floorboards were creaking, no rustling of fabric or scuffing of shoes. It was completely silent, and that made her nervous.

Stay calm. The worst thing you can do in a situation when you need to be calm is to be panicked. Slow breaths. Keep focused.

She repeated his words in her head and shifted around the hallway wall, eyes peeled for trouble.

Small steps when sweeping buildings. If an enemy rounds a corner and it comes to close combat, you’ll want to be able to hit them and taking big steps causes instability.

(Y/N) crept down the hall and came upon the bathroom just beside her father’s bedroom door. Quickly, she peeked in, seeing it empty, then cross the doorway, pausing beside her father’s door. She inhaled deeply, then turned her head around the corner, seeing it empty and dark. The only room left was hers.

She crossed to the other side of the wall and hurried down to her door, and with another sharp breath, she turned and looked in. Again, it was empty. Confusion bled through her as she returned to the living room, the hand holding the knife lowered beside her thigh.

“That’s strange.” She murmured. “I thought I—”

“Heard something?”

She gasped and spun around, bringing the knife up, but they caught it with ease, squeezing her wrist until she cried in pain and dropped it. (Y/N) heard the clattering in her ears as they grabbed her other hand and shoved her down into the couch.

She started thrashing wildly, about to scream when she heard, “I thought I told you not to turn your back on people.”

(Y/N) stilled and turned her head, catching that stupidly smart smirk. “You fucker.” She cursed at him, torn between laughing hysterically and cursing some more. “I can’t believe you turned this into a lesson.”

He shrugged. “Had to know if you were learning any better.” Smiling at her, he quipped, “Your sweeping is great. Detection skills? Not so much.”

“Let me up, Jason.” she commanded, rolling her eyes and he snorted, letting go of her arms. Immediately, she spun and cocked her elbow into his jaw, smiling as he grunted in pain and grabbed it.

“Damn,” he hissed. “You’ve got elbowing down to an art.”

She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

They stared on another down for a moment, then all at once, they were yanking at shirts and unbuckling belts, grabbing each other, and tugging closer to one another as their lips met in a searing kiss.

(Y/N) shoved at the jacket on his shoulders, moving her lips to his jaw and he groaned, taking his hands from her hips for just a moment to pull the article off. He shifted out of reach, and she glanced towards the kitchen.

“I turned the oven off,” Jason muttered, yanking his crimson shirt over his head. “Figured we’d be too busy to eat dinner.”

She giggled and shoved him off the couch, watching as he scrambled to his feet; she stood and started pulling off her own clothes, first her shirt, then her bra and Jason almost collapsed at her feet when she tugged her pants to her ankles.

“C’mon, Jay, don’t be shy.” (Y/N) cooed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he back-stepped down the hallway. “Oh, you want a show, Miss Jordan?”

She smirked at him and stuck her thumbs in the sides of her thong. “I’d love a show, Mister Todd.”

“I might made you beg a little for it,” he shot back coolly, toeing off his combat boots and she hummed.

“I will if you will.” (Y/N) said, watching his hands unbutton the charcoal-colored utility pants he wore.

“My eyes are up here.” Jason quipped, though he didn’t seem to stop as he shoved his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and he hit her doorway.

“True, but my attention is elsewhere.” She drew her eyes up his toned body, internally smirking as he seemed to shiver under her gaze, and she pushed her thong down her legs. (Y/N) stood before him and reached out, placing her hands flat on his chest. He was so hot underneath her palms and she slowly rubbed her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“(Y/N),” he murmured huskily, arms winding around her waist, and she smirked.

“Take me to bed, Jason.”

Immediately, he bent down and grabbed the back of her thighs, digging his fingers in until she lifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “With pleasure,” he purred.

***

By the time Hal and the other lanterns got back to the apartment, it was well into the morning, and he could tell that everyone just wanted to crash in exhaustion, too tired to even think about flying to their own homes.

He opened the balcony doors and let them inside. “Lemme get some blankets from the hall closet,” he muttered, voice as ragged as his body felt.

“Who the hell played strip poker in here?”

Hal looked up at Guy who was holding up a crimson t-shirt with a baffled expression. “What?”

Guy met his gaze then nodded down the hall. “Someone’s been tangoing.”

When he craned his neck to peek down the hallway, sure enough there was a trail of clothing leading down to her room. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot about his exhaustion as he leaped over the couch and sprinted down the hall, the other Lanterns hot on his heels.

Hal skidded to a stop in her doorway and immediately screeched, “(Y/N) JORDAN WHO THE HELL IS IN YOUR BED?!”

The two young adults in the bed startled up, and she held the sheet to her chest as she gaped at her father. “Dad! You—you’re here!”

He gestured wildly. “OF COURSE, I’M HERE! I FUCKING LIVE HERE! WHO THE FUCK IS IN YOUR BED?!”

“Morning, Hal,” Jason greeted, with a mock salute. “How’s your day so far?”

“MY DAY?!” he bellowed, already starting for the young man, and John was quick to grab Hal around the waist. “LET GO! I’M GOING TO MURDER THIS SON OF A BAT FOR CORRUPTING MY DAUGHTER!”

“Excuse me,” Jason said, rather affronted, then pointed at her. “It’s (Y/N) who’s corrupted me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to hide her snort as she elbowed him in the side. “Shut the hell up.” She cleared her throat and looked at the men in her doorway. “Uh…can you close the door so I can get dressed?”

“CLOSE THE DOOR?! I’M GOING TO TAKE THE DOOR OFF ITS HINGES! YOU ARE GROUNDED, (Y/N) JORDAN DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU ARE—”

Guy and John dragged Hal off and Kyle shut the door but threw a thumbs up at Jason before he left.

***Part Two***

She tried to look anywhere but her father’s face as he continued to berate her and Jason. And honestly, he’d stopped making sense about thirty minutes ago and while she couldn’t look at her uncles for fear of bursting into laughter, Jason had no problems cracking a smirk at everything Hal was yelling about.

“—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAD A BOY IN THE HOUSE!” he paused, horror drawing across his face, then it immediately turned into anger. “THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME HE’S COME OVER IS IT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

Her face pinched and she inquired, “Which question do you want answered first? The one you asked when you first started yelling or the last one just now?”

“I am in no mood for games, (Y/N) Jordan. You brought a boy into the house without permission.”

“I am a man.” Jason interrupted.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to bring my boyfriend into the house.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hal screeched.

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m confused. Are you angry at me calling him my boyfriend? Do you want me to call him my fuckbuddy or something?”

“HEY!” both Jason and Hal in unison and her father glared at him. “SHUT UP!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dad…I’m twenty-one. Having a boyfriend is a completely normal thing. Having a consensual sexual relationship with someone is a normal thing.”

Hal spluttered for a moment then pointed at Jason. “NOT WITH HIM!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason question, rather offendedly, then he held up a hand. “I mean, besides the obvious things that are wrong with me.”

“YOU’RE YOU! THE SON OF BATMAN!”

“I mean…” Jason drawled. “That’s technically debatable most days.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “You’re not exactly helping the case, Jay.”

“I’m not trying to.” He grinned at her. “I’m seeing if I can make your dad go red.”

She tutted at him. “Jason Todd trying to corrupt a Green Lantern into a Red Lantern. Shame.”

“QUIT DOING THAT!” Hal howled as they started snickering, seeming to get lost in their own little world. Suddenly, he was marching down the hallway and coming back with a cellphone.

They watched in confusion for a moment, then Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” (Y/N) worried.

“He’s calling B.”

“What.”

Hal put the phone to his ear and glowered at the two of them until the line clicked and he immediately yelled, “DO YOU KNOW YOUR DELINQUENT SON IS DATING MY DAUGHTER?...WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?!...EXCUSE ME?! WHAT?!”

He hung up the phone and set it on the table, then proceeded to turn around and grab a pillow from the couch, bringing it to his face. Hal bellowed into the pillow and Jason nudged her. “How long is he gonna be like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably another minute or two. He’ll start up again in about an hour though.”

Jason hummed and stood from the table. “Well, I’d love to stay and get yelled at some more but if I’m being honest, I only need one father yelling at me and not two.”

“Where are you going?” she questioned.

“Roy and I have a mission in Costa Rica tomorrow evening.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I’ll call you when I land.”

(Y/N) smiled and before he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss, one that erupted wolf-whistles from the other Lanterns around them—which also had Hal pulling his head up at the sound, immediately shouting again.

“Love you,” she murmured, and he winked.

“Love you more, doll.” He tossed a mock salute to Hal and the others before leaving and she sat back in her seat, readying herself for another round of bellowing.

***

Surprisingly, Hal had relaxed after a few hours. That being said, (Y/N) really had to work on him to do so but being an only child and her dad’s pride and joy played a big part—she knew the man could never stay mad at her. Of course, he’d immediately put rules into place over the whole relationship thing. No boys in the house without permission, no closing the door when a boy was over, no more Bat-sons in the Jordan apartment…he was overreacting, but it wasn’t anything new in (Y/N)’s opinion.

But he did ease up after a few months, mainly because as anti-social as Jason was most days, he was damn good at working people over when he wanted to. And in her boyfriend’s opinion, the easiest way to work her dad over was to tell him all the ways to screw with Bruce—which Hal took in like a sponge with water. As annoying as it was to see the two men so giddy over a plan, she was glad they were just getting along.

However, when Hal learned that (Y/N) was being trained by Jason, and on the rare occasions, Bruce, his meltdown the first night seemed like a walk in the park compared to the storm blowing in.

***

So…what are you wearing?

She snorted, crossing at the formula of the equation, rewriting a new one beside it. “Jason, I’m not having phone-sex with you.”

Hmm…I bet you’re wearing red panties.

“Cold.” (Y/N) retorted with a grin. “They’re blue actually. You know, like Nightwing’s suit?”

Why do you hate me?

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean, Jay.”

You’re evil, you know that? Like you portray innocence but in reality, you’re evil.

She snorted again when a tapping came at her bedroom window and she frowned, leaning over; Jason saw it from the camera.

Everything alright?

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to his face then to the window and she stood. “Yeah, someone’s at the window.”

(Y/N). He warned and she leaned over, seeing Kyle floating there.

“It’s Kyle.”

What’s Kyle doing there? I thought he was on Oa.

She nodded, brows furrowing as she murmured, “I did too.” Opening the window, she greeted, “Hey, what’s up?”

Kyle seemed nervous. No, he seemed concerned. “I need you to come with me.”

“Is my dad okay?” she asked outright, and he nodded.

“Yeah, Hal’s good…but he needs to talk to you.” Kyle waved a hand over her phone, and it shut off. “It’s important.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thump in her chest at how serious her friend was, and she nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

She’d only ever been to the Watchtower once. And the only thing she remembered from the trip was getting lost in one of the hallways only to be found by Batman who merely picked her sobbing frame up and hummed to her until she fell asleep.

So really, it was like a first time visit all over again, and when she came face to face with not only the Justice League, well Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman, and her uncles, she wasn’t exactly excited. It felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for expulsion.

Hal pointed to a seat, which she took, not wanting to open her mouth when she had no idea what was going on.

Wonder Woman, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “What is your daughter doing here, Hal?”

Her father merely looked at (Y/N) then to Bruce, questioning, “How long?” They stared one another down and she felt as lost as last year’s Easter eggs. “How long, Bruce?” Hal asked again.

Batman didn’t even blink. “A full year. When she started working at the branch in Coast City, I had Jason start it.”

“Motherfucker.” Hal cursed, chuckling humorlessly. “I do all I can to keep her out of this bullshit and you drag her into it.”

“(Y/N) wanted to train. She emailed me through a private channel about it.”

All eyes turned onto her and then she knew what was happening. “He’s…right, dad. I wanted to be trained to fight.”

Hal gaped at her. “Why? You’re going to school? You’re working? Why do you want to train?”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “To be like you guys. You know, useful?” she stood from the table. “Look, I know you’re worried, but even Batman’s noted major improvements. He says I’m almost ready to start patrolling on my own.” She looked to him for help.

“She’s smart, Hal. And I’m not saying that to float the Jordan ego. Jason’s not one to give commendation where it shouldn’t be.” Batman nodded at her. “(Y/N)’s not my kids, but she’s right behind them on how good she is.”

Hal’s brown eyes turned onto him in a fierce glare. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t make a habit out of putting my kid in danger. I know you have a thing for going through sons.”

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted, getting his attention as she stood to her feet. “I’m old enough to make this decision for myself and if Batman says I’m good enough to do this, I’m gonna do it.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Hal rejected. “End of discussion.”

“No.”

His eyes went wide first with shock, then with the audacity of her language. “Excuse me?”

(Y/N) momentarily wanted to cave, but she held strong and tightened her jaw. “I said no.” she declared. “I’m gonna do this.”

Hal rounded the table, stomping up to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What’re you gonna do, dad? Lock me in the house for the rest of my life?” she suggested. “I have rights you know.”

“Not to do shit like this. I don’t want you being a hero.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and suddenly, everyone felt the mood shift as she murmured, “It’s because I’m not a Lantern, isn’t it, dad?”

Hal’s jaw went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She shot back coolly, then tipped her head to the other league members. “See, they get to brag about their kids. Superboy, the Robins, the Wonder-Girls...everyone on this team has a trainee but you.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “And you hate that I’m not like you, don’t you? That I can’t seem to figure out what it takes to wear that ring.”

She glanced at her uncles who were gaping at her. “See, you look at them like they’re the greatest people in the universe. And then when you look at me? It’s easy to see the devotion shift. Deep down it makes you disappointed that I’m not a Green Lantern.”

“You are absolutely out of line.” He growled.

“Am I, dad?” (Y/N) challenged. “Everyone here gets to brag about their superhero trainees but when it comes you, what can you say? ‘My daughter isn’t a Green Lantern like me, sorry!’?” she looked at him. “I’m not a Green Lantern, but I am something else. I can be something else. Let me prove it to you.”

Hal gazed at her for along moment. “…No.”

(Y/N) snapped. “Why the fuck not! What is it about me that just makes you so antagonistic at the idea of me being something like you!”

“Watch your language, young lady. I’m still your father.” He demanded.

“Oh please, as far as I’m concerned, you were just a failed pilot on leave who fucked my mom and got her pregnant.”

It happened before anyone realized it. The sharpest crack any of them had ever heard in their lives and (Y/N) turned her face back to him, a hand coming up to press against her stinging cheek. And Hal? Hal was staring at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

She wasn’t mad. Shocked, sure, but not mad. If anything, it’d proved her point and she merely regarded him with an assured gaze. “Bogey down, huh dad?” she remarked, and his eyes shot to hers.

Hal’s mouth opened but nothing would come out except, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she whispered, taking a step back from him when he reached for her.

His face crumpled and he brokenly called, “(Y/N), wait!”

But she was already running for the door, Batman on her heels.

***

“Do you want me to call Jason?” he asked quietly, watching her open the balcony doors.

Her hands stilled for a moment, then she resumed twisting the key. “No…and don’t tell him this happened either.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) looked back at him. “Because you and I both know that Jason would beat my dad senseless.”

“…Do you want to come back to Gotham for a while?”

She opened the doors and sighed. “I don’t know, Batman.” Glancing back, she added, “I don’t really know what I want right now.”

“Do you want to be away from Hal?” he questioned seriously, and she looked at her feet.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s not abusive.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up. “My dad’s never laid his hands on me before now.”

“He ever physically discipline you?”

“Swatting your eight-year-old kid’s butt in the middle of a store when they’re having a meltdown over not buying an expensive toy is a lot different from beating them bloody and bruised with a beer bottle or a belt.’ (Y/N)’s eyes darkened, but not at her father’s face in her head, but at Batman. “My dad’s a lot of things. A jackass, a skirt chaser, a self-righteous arrogant prick…but he is not an abuser.”

Batman placed a hand on her shoulder. “He hit you.”

“Yeah? And? I insulted him and my mom straight to his face. Sure, slapping me wasn’t the answer, but I understand the reaction. Does is make is right? No. But neither is what I said. We both fucked up.” She shrugged his hand off. “We’ll talk about it and move on.”

“Because it’s what Jordan’s do?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh but it was anything but mirthful. “Yeah. It’s what Jordan’s do.” She stepped inside and looked back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home, Batman. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pulling out his grapple. “Call me if you need anything.” Batman gazed at her. “And think about calling Jason.”

“…I will.”

Batman gazed at her a moment longer then fired the grapple, taking off into the night sky towards the Batplane, then she was watching as it disappeared faster than it came.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and put her hands on the back of the loveseat, shutting her eyes as she thought about the events of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Angry? Hurt? Responsible? It had to be all the above, especially when she pictured his face in her head after it happened. Shocked, ashamed, horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

(Y/N) didn’t want to think about it, and when she heard a ring flashing in her ears, she turned. “Guys, I don’t wanna talk about—” she fell into a deep silence when she saw the man before her, the yellow suit glowing vividly against the dark sky.

“Hello (Y/N) Jordan. I am Sinestro.”

***Part Three***

Hal had taken her flying more times than she could’ve counted—perks of being a pilots daughter, and while she had faith in aircraft and Green Lantern constructs, she wasn’t sure how to feel about Yellow Lanterns and their tendency to drop people.

Coast City looked so small below her, and she swallowed thickly, trying greatly to keep her fear under control, keeping her eyes on the moon. She knew if Sinestro dropped her at this height, she’d die. There were no chances of survival at all—she’d hit the ground and pancake with the best of ‘em.

“I am rather surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily,” he remarked, not looking at her as they rose through the night sky.

“Yeah, well…I’ve heard enough stories about you to know that you’ll kill me if you want to.” Her eyes followed his frame. “I’d like to extend my life as long as possible.”

“A wise decision, (Y/N).” He noted rather humorously, finally taking the time to look back at her. “I’ve watched you for some time now.”

Ignoring the implications and total creepiness of the statement, she instead asked, “How long?”

“Long enough to see the potential you have in greater things.” Sinestro replied and reached a hand out, a horde of golden glowing constructs appearing before her eyes. Her training with Batman, with Jason, even with Hal and the others—most importantly, the fight just before. “It hurts that he doesn’t trust you to be like him, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond, merely watching the moment of his hand coming back across her face over and over again as the feelings welled in her chest.

“You try so hard to be of use to Hal. To be a Green Lantern like him, but nothing you do makes him proud.” He gazed at her with something akin to pity, but it felt like a manipulation. “I understand your fear of failure…of shame.” Holding out his hand, he made her own raise beside her body and a yellow ring floated from his palm. “I can feel the anger inside you. Your fear fights to quell it.” Sinestro smiled. “I almost want to call Atrocitus and have him recruit you into the Red Corps.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the ring, and she clenched her hand into a fist to keep it from sliding onto her finger. “I—I can’t be a Yellow Lantern.”

“Why not?”

“Why n—because you’re the enemy of the Green Lanterns!” she shouted. “I’d be betraying my father and my friends and my family!”

He gave her a knowing look. “The same family that looked upon you with shame every time you tried to wield the green power ring, but couldn’t?”

She felt like she’d been shot, and her jaw dropped. “I…”

Sinestro nodded. “I understand. But you don’t, (Y/N). Willpower must be had since birth. Fear however—” he reached out, uncurling her fingers. “Can be taught. And you have potential to be trained with terror.” He met her gaze. “You can’t be a Green Lantern like Hal wants…but you can become something he has to recognize. Something powerful. Something fearsome.”

(Y/N) stared at him, and this time, she didn’t fight as the ring slipped onto her finger. (Y/N) Jordan of Earth. You possess the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.

The world started swirling around her, golden flashes of light bound her body and she screamed in terror as her nightmares came alive before her. The chains coiled, almost like snakes creeping up her body, tighter and tighter around her throat and up around her skull. The last thing she saw through her fearful gaze was Sinestro laughing darkly and the world before her went dark and she was subjected to her minds torment, brought upon by the forged ring.

For a moment, the world was calm, then the chains fell away, and (Y/N) stood before Sinestro, clothed in an exo-suit, similar to her father’s, but instead of the bright, awe-inspiring green, it was a golden, fear-inducing yellow.

And when she opened her eyes, they narrowed onto Sinestro, and all she said was, “I’m ready to receive my orders.”