#second thing: we are soon approaching the next gen and I’m thinking of change change change

[plumdale]

speeding things up a bit with a timeskip! everyone aged up and unfortunately our first ever gen 5 pet, Ginny, passed away </3

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - i.

NOW PLAYING : I n t e r l u d e [J. Cole]

cw; name calling, blood, mentions of murder, major spoilers

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.”

Despite the red-light district thriving through the night, it looked just as beautiful during the early morning. Yn was roaming the streets on her pedal bike for the first time since winter break as she plotted different ways to surprise her big brother at his newly opened bike shop. She had already purchased his favorite breakfast meal from the little café she worked at, and all that she was left to do was see the said man. Getting out of thoughts and returning to reality, she stopped at the side of the traffic light to press the ‘crossing’ button and to text Draken to make sure he was at work before she made the trip.

“hey there pretty girl, ya wanna come ride something more interesting than the little kiddie bike yer on right now?” some bleach blonde junior high kid called out to her, smirking as he man spread and took up most of the space on the park bench. “I know ya hear me pretty girl,” he leaned and rested his elbows onto his knees, “maybe ya want me to come over and beg for yer attention, huh? Want me to come and make ya listen to me?”

She scoffed and waited for the light to signal for her to cross, but its as if the gods wanted to punish her and traffic kept flowing out of her favor. Getting restless, she pocketed her phone and tapped on her bar handles in hopes of the cars to all be generous and let her through; of course, this did not happen and the young fuck boy in training had began to approach her alongside his friend who were hyping him up and recording the event.

“You might be older than me,” he walked up behind her and kicked her bike tire before circling around and leaning against the basket in the front, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I hit girls.” Yn had to refrain from spitting in his face because Draken always said ‘never start anything with others first, let them choose their fate.’ In other words, big bro just didn’t want her to put herself at risk due to minor inconveniences that were presented towards her.

Just as the light switched from a hand to a walking figure, yn politely smiled at the boy in hopes of him getting the hint that she did not wish to engage with him anymore, but – of course – that was just asking too much of him. He turned back and looked at the sign noticing it was their turn to cross, and he surprisingly moved out the way. Yn smiled realizing that her brother did know it best when he said that the ‘dumb young boys will leave you alone after they realize you’re not going to give them the time of day,’ and she moved to pedal across the cross walk with a large smile.

However, big bro’s words are not the golden rule amongst men and the boys did not leave her alone; in fact, they decided to run at her hit the back tire with a bat and caused her to lose control and fall in the middle of the walkway. The drivers were kind enough to wait for her to get up and cross the street with scraped knees and a dirty pull over. She turned back to glare at the boys, but their backs were already facing her as they leisurely walked away laughing. This wasn’t going to ruin her day, after all, she still gets to surprise her brother with her presence and might even have the chance to see his hot amazing friends whom you grew up around. After realizing that the former gang members might all be hanging around her brother’s workplace, she got up with a huge smile and skipped the rest of her way on the crosswalk. Once to the other side, yn hopped back on her bike without checking her bloodied shins and made her way on the quickest route to the shop.

Glancing up at the familiar billboards that danced in sky and looking down at the alleys being populated with street cats and new gen delinquents, she realized she was only a block down from seeing the man who has always put her first and raised her to strive to her fullest potential. Smiling as closed her eyes for just a second - she swears it – to bask in the excitement and next thing she knew, she was on the ground covered in coffee. She could hear faint voices but those were cancelled out by her skin screaming at her to get up and quickly remove any rubble and dirt that had entered. Moving to get up, she took note of blood staining the concrete and became slightly alarmed.

“Oi, you dumb bitch, you should watch where you’re going,” a man’s voice echoed through her head, “you got a drip of blood on my Milano’s.” Trying to get up, yn went to wipe her eyes, but as soon as she lifted her hands, she felt them share the similar sting that her knees and chin felt. “You deaf or something? Ha, lucky for you I’ll take the food in your basket and whatever is in your wallet as an exchange. Pin code for your card must be included, love.” Hearing as she was about to get stripped dry of her hard-earned cash, she shot a glare up at the well-dressed man’s body just to be sent in a more state of terror when she noticed the tattoo that decorated his temple; it was the infamous Bonten symbol.

“I say we just take her to the back alley and make her pretty throat match the rest of her bloody body,” she turned and seen a pinkette with long hair and two scars that sat on each corner of his ?beautiful? mouth. to be completely honest, he would have been very much at the top of her most attractive list if he weren’t just plotting to slice her neck right in front of her; she wondered if he ever heard of the Element of Surprise. “She hasn’t even apologized yet and it’s been at least 45 seconds, that is pretty rude don’t you think, Mochi-kun?”

“It is very rude,” the built man with slicked back blonde hair spoke up, “do you want me to take her in the alleyway?” He squatted down to meet yn at eye level and she didn’t know if it was the fact he was able to stare into her soul with lifeless eyes or the extremely structured shoulders that could break her bones if he had tackled her, but she genuinely felt that she was going to die. “You seem like a worthless kill if I am being honest, and I don’t like claiming meaningless prizes. So, if you want to live,” ‘Mochi-kun’ reached over and gripped her bloodied chin, “or are you going to be good dog and run your pockets?”

She couldn’t believe it; for all her life, death threats have never been directly shot at her as Draken and the others have always been there. Of course, she emptied her pockets as quick as she could and began wiping the man’s Milano’s with her cloth lens wipe.

“Good girl,” the man with the temple tattoo said mockingly, “but I’m gonna need you to put your pretty mouth to work since you don’t know – or rather – you act like you don’t know how to speak.” She felt her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked up from the ground; they mistook it for fear, but yn was just angry she was powerless to them. “Don’t worry, I like older women, so I won’t need your mouth for that,” he laughed loudly in her face, “lick the blood off.” Her glare returned and tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Be a good bitch, and lick my –“

“What are you idiots doing?” a man with a long pink and purple mullet-like hairstyle came from behind her. “Are you guys bullying young kids again? Oh, wait, you’re not a kid.” He stared at you through his multi-colored bangs and tilted his head, “Why are you all bloody like a sewer rat walking through the back alley of feral cats?” he pushed the girl’s forehead back, straining her neck to hold eye contact with him, “you’re not some whore, are you?” He craned his neck back to the man who has been treating her like a dog, giving yn a full view of his Bonten symbol tattooed across the middle of his pretty throat. “Neh, Koko, you do realize that if you want a girl’s attention you can’t just rough her up in hopes that she takes you to bed.” He turns back to yn before sighing, “You’re cute,” for some reason she felt herself swelling with pride, “but you’re not my type,” – well there goes her ego.

“Oh what-fucking-ever,” ‘Koko’ mumbled as he gently pushed her away, “I didn’t want some inexperienced princess anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” He quickly bent down and took all the cash from her wallet and began to slide out the card, but a baton quickly swatted at his hands.

“Your obsession with money is crazy, but you can’t take hers if you still owe me 45,000 yen.” Yn turned to see a man with pushed back purple and pink hair holding the offending stick. Unlike the other members, his tattoo was in the same place as the mullet man – maybe they took over the organization after her other big brotherly figure, Mikey, left. She drank in his appearance, and although he was thinner than the other members, something about him just screamed ‘stay away;’ but for the first time in her life, yn didn’t want to listen to such obvious red flags. “Oh no, you’re bloodied up like a rat –“

“I have already said that nii-chan,” the mullet head said, “what do you say? Wanna jut get rid of her like Sanzu-san suggested?” The now known younger brother asks. She began to tremble but not out of fear, no, out of a weird feeling at the pits of her stomach that came about as soon as the stranger stumbled onto the scene. “Oi,” the younger brother flicked your chin, reminding your body that it is supposed to be in a state of stinging pain, “staring is rude. What are you – a deer in headlights?”

“Now, now, Ridou,” the man continued to meet yn’s gaze as he motioned for her to take his hand, “where’s the fun in hurting a good little lamb? Especially one who shows that she knows to yield to her Sheppard.” Against her better judgement, yn took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “Look at you go,” he smirked and scanned over her body through hooded lids, “such a strong little girl you are standing on wobbly legs after the big bad wolves tried to tear you down.”

She should feel offended, mocked, and appalled, but she couldn’t – not with the voids he called eyes staring at her. “T-thanks,” she weakly mumbled as she began to gather her bag back together and prop her bike back up, “I know you guys said you needed the pin number, but I can’t give it to you.” She hung her head and balled her fists; she was waiting for someone to hit her but that never came. Looking up she sees the ‘older brother’ standing in front of the brooding ‘Koko’ and the other members just staring around the streets.

“That’s fine, little one,” the older brother said, “we don’t need your card. Koko here will be fine with just the cash. But I will need payment of the sort since I did calm the bully over here, don’t you think?” He smiled at yn, quickly scanning her student ID and then turning back to her face, “You’re 18, yeah?” she nodded, and he smiled lazily, “Good, give me something of yours that is valuable. I want to talk to you again and if I take it, you are going to want to take it back, correct?”

“I – um,” she began to go through the bag and seen that the only things she deemed valuable were her phone and the spare keys to her room in the brothel, “all I have is my k-keys and phone.” She huffed out in hopes that he took mercy and just let her go already; if she kept in his presence any longer, she feared that every piece of knowledge on common sense would fly out of her brain.

“Well, no one wants a pedal bike here and your phone and keys wouldn’t be of use to me,” he spoke in a rather degrading tone, “how about, you give me that pretty little necklace that you’re wearing… hmm, ... oh! Give me your number as well. After all, how are you going to know when I want you to take back your precious gems without being able to plan a proper date?” His smile was too secretive to be comforting, but this was probably the best way to saving her own life.

“Okay,” she replied quickly, “just please, don’t break the necklace…” her hands shook as she unclasped it and placed it into the man’s hands. “That’s a gift from my brother, so I promise you I’ll come and get it whenever you ask.” Yn put her hands on her bar handles before straddling the bike.

“Thank you,” he smiled and put away the baton before fishing out his phone, “put your number in it and call to make sure you’re not fucking with me, yeah?” He tilted his head and softly hummed at the soft sound of her phone vibrating in her bag. “Thank you, yn-chan.”

“No, thank you,” she lightly coughed and waited for him to look back up at her after saving all her contact information. Once he finally looked up, she flinched but proceeded to stare him dead in his lovely irises, “May I have your name… if ya don’t mind that it.”

“Haitani Ran,” the older man laughed and shifted his weight onto his hip, “and I expect you to text me whenever you get the chance.” He turned around and the other members began to follow. For what felt like an eternity, yn finally let out a small breath, well at least until he had turned back around. “Oh!” Haitani-san smiled at her, “Leave it under ‘Ran-senpai’ so your brother and friends don’t get spooked. Don’t want the fun to end before it has barely even started.” With that, he turned back around and waved half-assed before disappearing into the distance.

Yn decided to just to walk the rest of the block because riding the bike has been nothing but bad luck so far. Once at the shop, she sighed and made her way to the back where she knew would be unlocked because no one dared walk up into her big brother’s place of work. Parking her bike, she quickly takes her phone back out with 3 texts from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey little lamb, its yer senpai <3

Unknown: yer probs with yer bro so ill call you later, mm around midnight so stay up

Unknown: text me back soon or I mite accidentally break your pretty necklace and youll have to  owe me a big favor for ignoring me :)

“what the actual fuck,” yn whispered as she quickly began typing away. She didn’t know if she be upset with his back-to-back messages treating her like she was his property, or mad at herself for feeling this little need inside of her that wants to please him. Yes, all of the gang members were extremely hot and DANGEROUS, but something about ‘Ran Senpai’ gave her the cold chills; what made it worse was the urge that she possessed to go against all her morals for him.

Yn: hi! Im sorry,, I was just trying to get to my brother’s shop

Yn: wait,, do you know draken-nii?

She tilted her head and rocked lightly from side to side, waiting for a reply instead of going in and surprising her brother like she initially had planned to do. While she waited, she changed his name to ‘Tani Senpai <3’ with a small smile as she imagined Draken freaking out over the fact that a boy has caught her interest. Of course, she wasn’t romantically interested in the man, but his face isn’t one that she would mind seeing from time to time – at a safe distance that is.

Tani Senpai <3: mhm, some good and bad history

Yn: oh?

Tani Senpai <3: you do know curiosity killed the cat, right little lamb?

Yn: you flirt a lot

Yn: how old are you ?

Tani Senpai <3: 28 years young bb

Yn: youre ten whole years older than me?? You look so,, young.

Tani Senpai <3: I have aged, but trust me, I am rather youthful in different aspects.

Yn: do you by chance,, like memes?

Tani Senpai <3: ofc, especially hornee ones.

Yn: haha.. well I gotta go,

Tani Senpai <3: mhm go ahead baby, remember. Midnight <3

 Yn: aye aye captain.

She felt another vibration as she placed her phone in her backpack, but she was finally able to see and surprise her brother and that is exactly what she planned to do. Quietly pulling the door open, she noted that the music blaring and Draken’s back was to her as he was fixing up what looked like Pah-chin’s old CBX 400F. It was a cute sight if she was being completely honest; her brother rebuilding his old friendships. She seen the other boys’ bikes lined up too: Draken’s Zephyr, Mitsuya’s little Impulse, Kazu-kun’s Rocket, Mikey’s CB250T, and even the late Baji’s Goki.

“Pah-san still has the old thing,” she decided to speak up instead of tackling her brother, “are you guys gonna give it to some younger kids?” right as she finished her sentence, draken whipped his head back and went to cradle yn to his chest. Suddenly, all of the stinging on her skin had vanished and she was giggling while circling her arms around her brother’s waist. “How are you ya wannabe greaser?”

“I’m doing fine you idiot, how are -,” draken lifted his head to get a good look at her, but all his excitement drained as he was met with a sight of dried blood and scraped skin. “Who the fuck did this to you? I’ll kill them right fucking now, what the hell happened yn?”

“DRAKEN,” he stopped and stared at you expecting an answer, “I tired riding my bike down the big hill by the park and this happened, okay? I’m okay.” She stared at him with a soft expression and relaxed once she noticed he slumped in his posture, “I know you said to stop riding down the hill because it’ll bite me in the ass one day, so I guess today was the day.” Yn laughed and draken tried to fight the small smile that was threatening to fall on his lips.

“Go sit on the counter and watch the store for a bit, I’m gonna get the first aid kit in the back and I guess I’ll patch ya up.” With that, he disappeared into the office hall and left yn to be lost in thought. She had never lied to Draken this heavy before. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but she just told her brother she fell down a hill instead of saying that some /Bonten/ men were just threatening her life 20 minutes ago and they treated her like a dog; well, she didn’t feel that bad anymore, considering that he would have gone and wasted his life against men that played dirty. “Get out of your head, I’m back.” Draken teased her before getting an alcohol wipe and wiping the dried blood, “don’t squirm too much, loser. iss’ gonna sting a bit tho, so try to not hit me.”

It went a lot more smooth than she had expected, yeah, the cleansing wipe and ointment burned, but now she was bandaged and able to not worry about even more blood staining her clothes til they go to the brothel.

“Here,” he handed her a spare shirt and some sweats, “I don’t like seeing you all beat up, makes me want to fight the side walk. You know where the bathroom is.” Draken slightly punched her shoulder before heading back to seat near the bike, “once you’re done, we can go meet the boys for breakfast. I bet yer hungry.”

“Yer the best, ya know that,” yn smiled before taking her bag and clothes to the bathroom. “It won’t be long,” she turned before entering the hall, “make sure the cute one is there!”

“Stop trying to fuck my friends,” Draken called out in an irritated tone as she walked away laughing. It was an ongoing joke yn had played on her brother, where she would pretend to have some crush on his friends and it’d just make him twenty times more protective around them; he never knew if she was serious or not so he had to be cautious.

Once in the bathroom, yn quickly changed into the clothes her brother had lent her and stared at herself in the mirror. She laughed when she realized she kind of looked like one of the main characters from her favorite psychological thrillers. Yn took out her phone and decided to message Mana, mitsuya’s younger sister and yn’s best friend from home, with a picture of her bandaged state and the caption, ‘take out my ankles next time, daddy <3.’ It honestly surprised her to get a reply that fast as Mana was always one to sleep until noon. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact she sent it the wrong person, or the fact the person knew exactly what she was talking about.

Tani Senpai <3: you look hot like that

Tani Senpai <3: like being called daddy, but in this context arent I supposed to call you mommy or something LMAO

Tani Senpai <3: I can break your ankles with my baton

Tani Senpai <3: make you my little housewife and call you ‘Bum.’

Tani Senpai <3: don’t worry, I won’t turn into ashes ;) <3

“Yn,” Draken called out, “you okay in there?”

“Don’t worry about it nii-Chan,” she giggled in hopes of masking her terror, “just bumped into a wound. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay,” draken slipped a pad and a tampon under the door, “don’t know if you might want these -,”

“LEAVE YOU IDIOT,” yn genuinely laughed and heard draken’s heavy chuckles through the door, “thank you though, I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll be outside on the bike, bubs.”

After hearing draken’s foot steps vanish, she quickly began typing.

Yn: that wasn’t meant for you -

Tani Senpai <3: shame, I love killing stalking

Yn: wait,, really? 👀

Tani Senpai <3: mhm,, we’ll talk about it later tonite ‘bum ;)

Yn: .. deal :)

Despite every shitty thing that has happened to her since she got back, it felt as if they were supposed to meet; fate as one would call it. She was offering herself to one of the most dangerous men who rule the underworld, and she didn’t even find herself to minding.

masterlist | next

an: hi hello, hope yer all eating well :)

ryozoro©

[kvj-novels]

Senku x fem named!reader

Rating: this chapter is E for everyone though there is some mild language

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN THE CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS.

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Chapter Five

The man in the purple cloak type shirt offered his hand when I reached the bottom of the ladder. “My name is Gen.” he said. “Imogen.” I took his hand. “Do you know why I should meet Senku at the village?” I asked. Gen put an arm around me, and I placed my arm over his shoulders. I limped forward with his steady stride next to me. “When quarrels break out he settles it with full on matches. No one dies, but they are allowed to fight each other to settle the matter. Usually he’s found that sometimes people just need to have a real match to get things off their chest and then they’re good.” He explained. “Oh, that’s an interesting way to go about it.” I said, following him down the path and into the village. We came to the bridge and he stopped. “This bridge is narrow, it would be better if I carried you or you walked in front.” “I can walk.” I smiled, feeling a bit awkward around this stranger who interrupted...a moment. “Thank you for the help.” I quickly went across the bridge and followed Gen to the crowd of people. Benches were occupied and the ground was covered with people. They all surrounded an empty area where only two people stood. Senku saw me approaching and waved me over. Taiju was next to him. I made my way through the crowd as a tall, blond and angry looking man stated the rules and signaled for them to started. Taiju only just noticed me when I came up to them. He stood straight up, eyes wide. “Imogen.” He said surprised. I smiled. I saw him in my memory too and his face was full of familiarity. “Hi Taiju.” “You remember me?” “I have a memory. That’s it.” He grinned. “That’s good enough for me.” He said and without hesitation he wrapped me up in a big bear hug. I laughed and hugged him back. “Alright you big oaf,” Senku said. “Let the woman sit.” “Oh, right, you hurt yourself.” He said as he let go. “Here, sit between Senku and me.” He led me to the bench and I down next Senku. He winked at me. “Did Gen explain this?” He asked. “Yes. You make your subjects fight for your amusement.” I teased. He laughed. The crowd bellowed and we all faced the ring. One of them was on the ground, the other on top. The one on the ground fought until he was back on his feet again. Everyone cheered. Senku casually draped his arm over my shoulders as he picked up a flask and threw back some beer. “May I have some?” I asked. “Sure.” He handed me his mug. I took it and gave it a sniff which made him laugh. “It’s a lot stronger than what you’re used to.” He said. I threw back a swig and gulped it down. He was impressed with me for the 3.5 seconds in which I didn’t notice the kick. Then he belly laughed when I doubled over and coughed. Taiju couldn’t help but laugh too. A memory came flashing through my mind as I coughed. It was a moment similar to this. One of the only occasions where the three of us spent time together that summer. I smiled and look up at Taiju. He smiled back at me. “I have two memories now.” I said. He offered a fist and I looked at it perplexed for a moment before bumping my fist to his. “You’ll get more.” He said. The mood of the night for the crowd changed in a moment. Everyone gasped and both Taiju and Senku snapped their attention to the men fighting. Without even uttering a word, they both stood and ran to break up the fight. Taiju held one down while Senku pushed the other far away. Senku’s voice bellowed in the night as he spoke to the two men. “Alright, now since we can’t fight nicely to settle this then you’ll tell everyone right here and now why you’re fighting.” Both men were silent. “Speak!” Senku shouted. The one standing by him cleared his throat. “I don’t want to live here.” He said. “No one is being forced to stay.” Senku replied. “I made a comment that I and my friend would likely leave tomorrow. He” he pointed to theman held down by Taiju, “walked by and started a fight over it.” Senku turned to the man that Taiju was holding down. “Stand up.” He said. Taiju got off him and let him stand. “This village is simply a home. No one is forced to live here if they don’t want to. We have several outlying families who wanted to be on their own - they have every right and privilege as everyone here. But they have their privacy too.” “He’s not telling you the full truth.” The man said. Senku turned to the first, awaiting an explanation. “I want to leave Japan. I’m not from here.” He said. “Japan was never my home.” “Where do you wish to go?” Senku asked. “I’m from Hawaii.” “Are your friends from there as well?” “No...we haven’t yet found those I was traveling with.” Senku put his hands on the man’s shoulder. “Again I say, you are not forced to live here. If you wish to cross the ocean then we’ll all work together to build you a boat–“ “We can’t do that!” The other man shouted. “We can’t waste our resources to build a boat for a man who doesn’t know how to sail. He’ll be dead in a week.” Senku was silent but his face turned dark. “Anyone who wishes to take some time and help this man travel home, then please, come forward and volunteer your service. If you wish to make him food, clothes, and shelter then come forward.” Several people stepped forward in support of the man, including, I think, his friends that wished to go with him. “It will take a while, but you’ll have all the supplies you need. Figure out how to provide your services and continue your work for the village. However you do that is up to you.” Senku turned back to the man. “When you are ready to leave, come to me. I’ll have something for you.” He extended his arm in what looked like would be a handshake but instead the two men gripped each other’s elbow. “Thank you, Senku.” The man said. Senku turned to everyone else. “Let’s continue our night in peace.” He said. “I don’t want to hear this matter brought up again.” He looked at the man still standing in the ring. The man offered a polite bow and turned to go. Senku came and sat back down with a sigh. “Sorry about that. Usually they fight and make up. Sometimes I have to step in but it’s very rare.” “That’s okay. It looks like it took a lot out of you.” “It’s exhausting being a chief.” He said with a chuckle. “You do it well.” I smiled. A shadow stepped in front of me. “Imogen.” Taiju was standing there. I looked up at him. “I don’t want to interrupt any plans you may have, but if I may, can we talk soon?” His eyes started to water. “Taiju...what’s wrong?” “He probably misses you, the big cry baby.” Senku teased. My heart broke a bit because I couldn’t fully remember the bond we had. Taiju was crying softly. What a gentle soul in such a strong body. I stood and pulled his head down into a hug. “Taiju...I can’t remember what you were to me...but yes, of course we can talk soon. I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep tonight and meeting some time tomorrow?” He let out a sob into my shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” He said, holding himself back from hugging me. “Alright you big cry baby.” Senku said, coming up to us and putting a hand on his shoulder. He straightened and dried his face. “Go home and get some sleep with your girl.” Senku said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Senku took my hand and quickly made his escape through the village, hiding in the shadows when people came near. “You tired?” He asked once on the bridge. I shook my head. “It’s been a long couple days since I woke up and I couldn’t sleep before because it felt too similar to the petrification.” “Here,” he got in front of me and squatted down. I smiled and climbed onto his back. He carried me to the lookout and up the ladder to his room. I crawled off him and over to his bed. I heard him chuckle and he followed after me. His arms snaked around me and pulled me into chest. “Imogen?” His voice went deep, the sleep setting into his vocal chords. “Hmm?” “I’m glad you’re here...I didn’t realize, with all the crazy things that have kept me busy, how much I missed your companionship.” He pressed a kiss to my head. I smiled. “Go to sleep, Senku.”

He hummed and closed his eyes. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

********

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[darkpoisonouslove]

Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here. 

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes? 

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - 1700/1800 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 3,898

Warnings:  jack the ripper, reader is called a whore and a wench

A/N:  tis my longest chapter yet!

Back | Next

You hid away for most of the eighteenth century.

You healed when you could, but what happened to Douxie scared you a little more than you’d like to admit.

So you hid.

You found ways to entertain yourself.  You read more, painted a little, continued your medical practice, and learned more about medicine whenever the knowledge became available.  You continued to keep tabs on other immortals.  It was pretty boring except for that time the Americans revolted.  You had to admit it was fun to keep tabs on the scrappy rebellion.  You couldn’t say it out loud as you still lived in England, but you gave a little cheer every time they fought off the British.  You didn’t like authority.  Neither did they.

On the other side of the continent, Douxie did the same things he always did.  Music, magic, work for Merlin.  He also read the book you’d given him.  He liked it.

It was a century of hiding, waiting, and having nothing much to do.  The next century would be the exact opposite. 

--

Jack the Ripper was a dick.

You really didn’t like him.

Douxie didn’t like him either.

And Archie didn’t like him.

So, like in every good piece of media that has a chapter in the nineteenth century, you protagonists teamed up to take down Jack the Ripper.  It was super effective!

You met up with your partners in the fog-filled streets of the White Chapel district soon after the second murder.  In your hands, you held a newspaper covering the recent events.  You approached the wizard and his familiar, but they didn’t see you.  They were caught in a conversation with someone you’d never seen before, a stocky man dressed in a dark overcoat and hat.  The stranger hadn’t noticed you either.  

Silently, you hid in an alley between two nearby buildings.  You couldn’t hear them, but from the stranger’s body language, he seemed a bit defensive, maybe even a little angry.  You sincerely hoped Douxie wasn’t doing anything stupid.

About a minute later, the man stormed off, leaving Douxie and Archie behind.  They still hadn’t noticed you, so you took the opportunity to sneak up on them.

“Hey!”

“Aaaaahhhh, jeez (Y/N)!  Don’t do that!  There’s a killer on the loose!”

“And he’s only killed prostitutes so far, so you should be fine.  Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me?” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

He gave you a small shove, too small to be malicious, “Very funny.  Have you learned anything new?”

“Mhmm, but first,” you turned to Archie, giving him a pat on the head, “Hey Arch, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,”

“That’s good!  That’s good, anyway, you know they think it’s a doctor, but they received a letter signed ‘Jack the Ripper,’”

“Very fun nickname,”

“Indeed, but it still isn’t much to go off of, the police already doubt it”

“(Y/N), remind me again what your sources are?”  the familiar was right to be suspicious, but you knew your sources were solid.

“I’ve told you Arch, a forensic doctor, he’s a friend of mine and he works with the police,”

“And how do you know you can trust him?”

“I don’t, but they’re publishing the letter soon, so you’ll see it then.  You guys got anything?”

“Not much,”

“Huh.  That isn’t great,” you took a moment before speaking again, “By the way, who was that man you were talking to?  He seemed angry,”

“Oh, him?  He’s just a resident of this area.  I’ve been talking to him for a while, I thought he might know something, but every time I even mention it he gets, well…”

“Like that?”

“Yes, like that,”

You looked out the way the man had gone, “You think he’s a suspect?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,”

Archie nodded in agreement.

“Well then,” you said, returning the eyes to the face of your accomplices, “Keep an eye on him.  See you next Thursday?”

“Sounds good,”

By next Thursday, another girl was dead.

You met with your team in a (very) shady pub to discuss this development.  Thanks to some connections, you’d snagged a private room where no one else could hear your detective work.

“God DAMMIT, guys, how did we miss this?”  you said, pacing.  Your hands were on your hips, eyes fixed on the floor.  You seriously could not figure out how you missed this.  

On the wall behind you, you’d attached some photos and newspaper clippings to the wall, red yarn connecting them.  You were very ahead of your time.

“I really don’t know,” Douxie was sitting, upside-down, in a chair across from you.  He threw the ball of yarn up in the air, letting it fall, and catching it over and over again. Archie didn’t answer, he was focused too hard on the yarn.

You stopped pacing and glared at your conspiracy wall.  You followed the red string with your finger.  It lead nowhere.  You groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, something that Douxie found alarmingly attractive.  

Ever since you saved his life in the sixteen hundreds, he’d developed a bit of a soft spot for you.  It wasn’t something he was proud of.  But it was fine, you’d developed a soft spot for him too.

“Hey, it’ll be alright, love,”  he said, sitting up properly, “We’ll find this monster, so don’t worry yourself too much,”

You took a deep breath, leaning against your crime wall, “Thanks Doux.  I appreciate it,”

Your voice was slightly sarcastic, but you both smiled still.  Archie frowned, the yarn wasn’t moving anymore.

“So,” you said, turning again to examine the mess of photos and yarn, ”He isn’t an official suspect, but I think this guy, this James Maybrick, seems a little suspicious,” you pointed at his photo, “He’s going to be at this ball thing on Friday.  If we go, we can ask him if he plans on traveling, he lives in Liverpool, and-”

“I’m sorry, he lives where?”

“Liverpool, Arch, pay attention-”

“(Y/N), why do you think he’s coming all the way out to White Chapel to murder these women?”

“Well it isn’t his area, that makes him less of a suspect, and all of the murders have been on Saturdays and Sundays, which gives him time to travel,”

“You might be onto something,” Douxie said, standing and letting the yarn fall to the ground where Archie chased it around, thoroughly distracted, “We can go check it out, but how do we get in?”

You bit your lip, deep in thought, “My doctor friend, he knows the hostess.  He might be able to get us in,”

“Fantastic!”

“There’s just one thing,”

“Yes?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll have to pretend to be my fiance,”

There was a moment of silence while Douxie considered this.  

You tried to explain yourself, “I-It’s not my first choice either, but high society doesn’t approve of-”

“I’ll do it,”

“And I know it’s inconvenient, but-”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“I said I’ll do it,”

It was your time to consider, and you considered yourself super lucky to have an accomplice like Douxie.

“Oh my god, thank you!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,”

You couldn’t see Douxie’s face, so he had no idea that he blushed before wrapping his arms around you softly.

“No problem (Y/N), no problem,”

--

Two days later, you were wearing fancy clothes, and freaking out a little.

This was nothing compared to Douxie who was freaking out a lot.  Mostly because you looked absolutely stunning, but also because there was a possible murderer inside the building.  You know, typical stuff.

The two of you stood outside the manor, looking up at the vast estate.  It was beautiful but intimidating.  You turned to your partner in crime-solving, “You ready for this?”

He nodded.

You closed your eyes, swallowed back your anxiety, and linked your arm with his.

“Let’s do it,”

The manor was, simply put, dazzling.  The size of it reminded you of the smaller cathedrals during the sixteenth century.  The floors were marble, the ceiling decorated with a mural, just like the cathedrals you now reminisced.  The room was lit with a large chandelier, the warm light covered the whole room in a glow the colour of honey.  Columns, the same marble as the floor, stood strong around the perimeter.  On one side of the space, an orchestra played.  The center was full of people dancing.  Some people stood at the side of the room speaking, others just observing everything else. It was a crazy party, but only by Victorian standards.  

The sheer amount of activity made you panic a little.  As if Douxie could sense your anxiety, he found one of your hands and squeezed it reassuringly.  You smiled a little, once again thankful for such an amazing partner in crime.

The two of you made your way around the dance floor, checking faces, looking for your suspect.  You didn’t see him.  You and Douxie made a full circle around the room, not seeing your guy.  You were about to suggest finding a higher viewpoint when the hostess of the party stopped you.

She was a plump, elegant woman, draped in the finest of silks.  Her hair shone, and her eyes sparkled.  She was perfectly gorgeous, and perfectly in your way.

“Ah, fuzzbuckets,”

“Oh, my dear (Y/N)!  It is so good to see you, darling!”

“It’s good to see you as well, my Lady,” you returned, bowing slightly.  Douxie followed your lead.

“‘Tis a pity the good doctor couldn’t be with us!  He works so hard, you would think he would come out and dance for an evening!  Just to relax!”  The woman laughed as if wishing the doctor was here was the funniest thing on the planet.  Maybe it was to her Victorian sensibilities.

You laughed an appropriate amount, plastering on a fake smile, and biting your tongue at the irony.  This was the least relaxed you’d been all century.

When the Lady stopped laughing, she noticed Doxie, “Oh, (Y/N), dear, you must tell me who this dashing young gentleman is!  How in heaven did you find such a match?”

“My Lady, this is my fiance, Mr. Casperan,”

“It’s lovely to meet you fair Lady, and might I say that the moon and stars dull in comparison to your eyes; even a goddess of beauty could not hold a candle to your visage,”

You tried to keep cool, but you felt your eyes widen a bit.  You had never heard Douxie speak like that before.  You weren’t sure how it made you feel yet, but clearly, the Lady enjoyed it.  A blush covered her face as she gushed over the wizard for another two minutes.  You spent that time subtly searching the crowd for Maybrick.

Clearly, you were not as subtle as you thought.

“Oh, dear, I see your partner is eyeing the dance floor,” the lady said, her face still painted with a blush.  Her words called you to attention.

“Ah, yes, my apologies my Lady,”

“No worries at all dear child, now go!  Dance the night away!”

“Thank you,” you said, once again bowing.

“It was wonderful speaking with you, my Lady,” Douxie said, following your actions before leading you to the mass of dancing guests.

“She’s watching us,” Douxie whispered to you through clenched teeth, “Can you dance?”

“Not super well, but enough to survive,”

“Just follow my lead,”

Douxie could dance pretty damn well, something you weren’t too surprised by.  He’d spent a lot of time learning music throughout the centuries, you’ would've been a bit surprised if he hadn’t known how.  He was so good, in fact, that you were almost certain he was making you a better dancer just by being near you.  You’d be lying if you said this wasn’t the most fun you’d had in a while.

“So, where’d you learn to flirt like that?”  you asked, your voice low so that no one else could hear you.

“I’ve picked some things up over the years,” he said, spinning you out and then back in again.

“I have to say, I was quite impressed.  I didn’t see that coming,”

He faked a gasp, “Why I’m offended!  You don’t think I can flirt?”

“Well, I didn’t until tonight.  But I stand corrected,” he dipped you, “You can flirt extremely well Hisirdoux Casperan,”

“Thank you, (Y/N) (L/N),”

You both smiled continuing the dance, scanning the crowd for the face of the killer.  And in between that, just staring at each other.

You almost regretted finding the suspect.

You hated to admit that a small part of you had hoped to just dance with Douxie for the next few hours, pretending that you were a couple and that you weren’t magic, and you weren’t immortal, and you hadn’t seen pain and suffering the world over, and he hadn’t been tortured two centuries before.  You just wanted to dance.

But you saw him.

And the good of the humans came before the things you wanted.

“Doux, I see him,”

“Where?”

“To your left and back behind you.  Don’t look at him.  We’ll get off the dance floor, and I’ll question him,”

“Are you sure?”  Douxie thought about elaborating.  About telling you that he didn’t want you to get hurt and that he too, wanted to keep dancing. 

But he didn’t.  And you were sure.

So, you left the dance floor and made your way to the suspect.  You made sure Douxie stayed far enough behind you for his presence to be non-threatening, and made your approach. 

“Wonderful party isn’t it Sir…?”  you waited for him to give you his name.

“Maybrick, Mr. Maybrick,”

“Mr. Maybrick.  A lovely name,” internally, you cursed God for giving Douxie all of the charm and leaving you none.

“May I ask where you’re from Mr. Maybrick?”  

“I’m from around here, Liverpool.  May I ask who's asking?”

“I-”

“(Y/N), dear!  Where have you put that lovely boy of yours!  I have some friends he simply must meet!” 

You could not believe that the hostess was interrupting you yet again.  This time, Maybrick actually ran from you.  You cursed under your breath.  The Lady was far enough away that you could pretend not to hear her.  You could still catch the suspect, you just had to run a little.  In the outfit you were wearing, it would be next to impossible, but you really didn’t want to talk to the hostess again, so you gestured for Douxie to follow, and you chased after Maybrick.

You ran through the ballroom, dodging patrons and maneuvering around dancers.  It felt almost like a fairytale; Cinderella if the princess had to chase down a dangerous serial killer instead of just flee the ball.  

The suspect ran out the front doors, and you followed him, Douxie close behind.  The night air was cool on your skin, a nice contrast to the warmth of the ballroom.  You lost a shoe, and your hair was slowly turning into more and more of a mess, but you didn’t care, you wanted to catch this guy.

You did not catch that guy. 

A horse-drawn carriage was waiting for him at the end of the lane.  There was no way you could compete with that.  Not unless Archie would shapeshift into a horse for the sake of catching a possible criminal.

A black stallion pulled up beside you.

It was Archie, shapeshifted into a horse for the sake of catching a possible criminal.  You manifested your hot girl mystery-solving arc.

“Get on!”  both Douxie and Archie exclaimed, Douxie offering you a hand up.  You took it, jumping onto Archie’s back, wrapping your arms around the wizard's waist, and riding after the carriage.

The night was dark, and the carriage moved fast.  Archie kept up pretty well for a familiar with two people on his back.  He went so fast that all you could do was cling to Douxie for dear life as the dark world blurred around you.  It was not for a lack of trying, but eventually, you lost them.

“You did good Arch, you did good,”

“Thank you, Archie,” you said, forehead buried in Douxie’s back.

“I appreciate the thanks, but it isn’t over yet.  We left all of our stuff back at the manor, so we should return,”

“That’s probably a good idea,”

The journey back showed you how far you’d gone.  Needless to say, you were super proud of Archie.  You’d have to remind yourself to get him some fish later.

When you arrived back at the manor, the party was still going.  You could hear the music from the outside.  You dismounted Archie and leaned against his side.

“All of this,” you groaned out, “for nothing,”

“Well it wasn’t exactly for nothing,” Douxie said, stretching his arms above his head, “Maybrick ran from us, that’s suspicious.  I think we can officially call him a suspect.  Here,” he threw your missing shoe your way, “You dropped this,”

You smiled, leaning on Archie for support as you slipped it back on, “Thanks,”

“My pleasure,”

You laughed.  The stars above you caught your eye.  They were so beautiful tonight.  The music was nice too.  Everything was so peaceful.

It reminded you of another night, centuries ago, when you’d been allowed to rant and rave, and the wizard just listened to you.

“Hey, Douxie?”  

“Yes, love?”

You hesitated, trying to think of something to say.  Eventually, you came up with, “We’re still enemies after this, right?”

He laughed a little.  It sounded kind of sad, “If you want us to be,”

At that moment, you didn’t know what you wanted.

That’s a lie, you wanted to kiss Douxie.

But you hadn’t figured it out just yet, so, for now, you just stared at his lips, wondering what that feeling was, and listening to the song end.

“We should head back,”

“I guess we should,”

Neither of you were satisfied with this outcome.

--

You wouldn’t be satisfied until you caught the killer, or as it turned out, killers.

You’d been back at the pub, obsessing over the crime wall, tracing the red yarn over and over again.  Doux and Archie were starting to worry about your health.  Then you cracked the code.

“What if,” you said, turning from the wall, “There’s more than one,”

“More than one?”

“Yeah, more than one killer.  There’s more than one person involved here,”

The wizard and his familiar exchanged a look.  Maybe you were sleep-deprived and in need of a nap, but maybe you were onto something, “Go on,”

“Think about it, we’ve got multiple leads, some doctors, some live in the area, some have the motive, some are just suspicious, but none of them have everything they need to commit murder.  What if they’re working together?”

“Keep talking,”

“Look, here,” you said, pointing at a photo of a suspect, “Johnson Druitt, he lives in the white chapel area and has the anatomical knowledge,” you moved to another photo, this one a sketch, “Barnett, his roommate works the streets, he’s in love with her and we know he hates her job.  If he killed those other women to scare her, he has a motive,” you moved on again, “And Maybrick,”  you stopped, trying to piece together his role in this grand conspiracy.

“He’d have the funds to cover it up, plus the interest in the case,”

You spun around to face the wizard, “Douxie, you’re brilliant!”

You took a step back from the wall, taking in your work, “So, what do we do now?”

“Simple,” Douxie said, resting an elbow on your shoulder, “We go after him,”

--

You didn’t mind being bait.  Really, you didn’t.  But you did find it boring.

You’d been walking around this general area for two hours now, this disguise was uncomfortable, and you just wanted something else to do.  Then your wish came true!

Two men approached you from the front, both short in stature with well-kept moustaches.  You hid a smile, the three killer theory proving itself correct.  You walked forward, your peripheral vision focused on the men.  

The three of you kept walking.

You passed between them.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?”

They stopped, you continued on.

“Excuse me, dearie?”

“Yes?”  you purred, turning to them.  

Then you were grabbed from behind.  Fortunately, you expected that little trick, grabbing the stranger and flipping him over your body.  The man landed on the pavement with a thud.  You grinned as the three men looked at you, faces full of shock.  Unfortunately, it wore off, and the three advanced.

The first one threw a decent punch, but you dodged, forcing him to punch one of his partners.  You swept the legs out from under the third.

The first two had recovered and were coming at you again, this time with blades.  It was this moment when you noticed the blood on their coats.  It wasn’t theirs, or yours for that matter.  Yep, these were definitely your guys.  

The first blade missed you, the second one just grazed your side.  You bit down a cry of pain, sincerely hoping that blade was clean.  You could see Douxie emerge from his hiding place; clearly, he’d felt the sting of the metal too.

But you didn’t have time to focus on Douxie, you had to fight.  

You threw a few punches of your own, knocking the duo back into the street and closer to the wizard.

“Gah, you wENCH!!” one of them exclaimed.

“Kill the whore!!”  

You could see the rage in their faces, but that wasn’t as important as the fact that you could see their faces.  Maybrick and Druitt.  Your theory was right!  Your excitement fell away as they advanced.

Then they both fell into limbo.  

The portal down glowed blue around them.  Douxie stood behind the gateway, looking very proud of himself.

You would have laughed at their misfortune and Doux’s pride if you hadn’t been grabbed from behind again.

You cried out in surprise, catching the attention of the wizard.

“(Y/N)!”

“Don’t come any closer!” you felt the cold of a blade on your throat.  This wouldn’t end well.

“Come on now, don’t make any rash decisions,” Douxie’s hands were raised in surrender, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’ll kill the wench!  I’ll do it!”

“Hey, don’t-”

“My Mary is dead!  There’s nothing left!  I’ll kill her!”

“Wait, who's dead?”

“My girl,” the man sobbed, his grasp on you weakening, “My Mary Kelly, I’ve lost her!  She’s gone!”

You may have felt bad for this guy if he hadn’t been absolutely insane.  You took his distracted state as a chance and broke from his hold, pushing yourself away from him.

“Douxie!  Now!”

The portal to limbo opened under the man.  He had no time to react as he fell into the other dimension.

You looked down into the gateway, a blue pool in the middle of a dull cobblestone street.  You sighed with relief as the blue magic sealed itself shut, leaving the night dark again.

“Nice work,”

“Thanks,”

Lights came on in the windows around you.  In the distance, you heard shouting.

“We should get out of here,”

“Good idea.  See you next century?”

“Oh, absolutely.  Say goodbye to Arch for me,”

“Will do,”

And you slipped away into the night, excited by this latest adventure, but still wanting more.

[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.IX.i

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

A brand new chapter of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with the incredible @gen-syz-art as my artist ✨

_____________________

It’s not often that Geralt wakes up and doesn’t have anywhere to be.

Even in Kaer Morhen, in the only place where he can forget about the Path for a while, every morning starts with a few hours of training, and it’s either that or listening to Vesemir’s grumbling for the rest of the day.

And even if he did sleep in, staying in bed had always seemed like too much of a luxury for him to afford. But, perhaps, waking up in a luxurious bed can justify spending a little more time under the covers.

The sun is already high above the treetops of the forest outside when Geralt wakes, and his biological clock tells him that it’s a little after ten, and though he doesn’t feel like going back to sleep, just staying in bed seems like a very tempting prospect. With the exhaustion of two weeks on the Path and the pain of healing wounds now finally catching up to him, it feels like a well-deserved rest.

The sky behind the large windows is heavy with clouds, and Geralt can smell the approaching storm in the air. Summer storms are frequent in this part of Redania, especially this late into the season.

Perfect weather to stay in bed.

Geralt stretches with a soft satisfied rumble, the silk sheets smooth and pleasant against his bare skin. He used to think that having more than two pillows on the bed is a waste of space and coin but right now, burrowed between twelve of them, he feels more than content.

Outside, he can hear the first echoes of thunder, rolling across the sky in a soft rumble, almost a purr. If he’s lucky, it’s going to rain through the entire day, and if that’s really how it’s going to be, he’s probably going to stay in bed all the way into the next morning.

Jaskier will probably join him, if he asks.

The thought sends a little thrill of anticipation through him.

Geralt thinks back on the previous night, on Jaskier’s hands on his thigh and his lips so close to his own that Geralt could almost feel the taste of them. Had he had the courage to close in what little distance there was between them, he would’ve known that taste in more than just his imagination.

Would it have ended with a kiss? Or would Jaskier have indulged him the pleasure of laying him down on the pillows, stripping those expensive silks off him layer by layer, and getting a taste of him in more ways than one?

Geralt drags a hand over his face, banishing those thoughts from his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about him this way. He shouldn't even be thinking of kissing him, because surely, it would mean more to him than to Jaskier, with his effortless flirting and teasing.

Or at least that is what Geralt prays for, for if that’s not how it is, then kissing him would result in far worse consequences. The last thing Geralt wants is for Jaskier to grow attached to him, and he knows that kissing can influence that even more than sex. When he’d first gone to a brothel, he’d been told that by the woman that he’d paid.

“It’s nothing personal, sweetheart,” she had told him then. “It’s simple work ethics that make life easier both for us and for our clients. Sex is sex, there’s nothing more simple than that, but kisses are something different, something that both body and mind react to on a whole other level, and before you know it, you can grow attached. Now, we don’t want that, do we, my darling?”

No, he shouldn’t kiss him if he’s going to leave. And not leaving is not an option. He’s a witcher, he belongs on the Path, not in a luxurious mansion, next to what is certainly the most breathtakingly gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

Jaskier can play his little games with him, and Geralt knows that if Jaskier will be the one to kiss him, he won’t be able to resist, won’t be able to break away, but Geralt’s not going to be the one to hurt them both.

What doesn’t make matters any easier is that he still desperately wants him. Those days on the Path were bad enough, but they were nothing compared to the fire that flares up in his chest every time Jaskier actually touches him, every time he teases so mercilessly that had Geralt not known any better, he would’ve thought him cruel.

Is Jaskier just waiting for him to break? Or is he simply playing with him, teasing with something that he can never actually have, and will break away if Geralt touches him?

Those are the only two options that Geralt can think of, and while one makes his chest tighten in a way that he knows he shouldn’t allow, the other one hurts like a twisting blade.  

There is no winning for him. Not in this.

It will hurt either way, and the only question is whether it will be just him or both of them.

***

The sky is completely taken over by the dark, heavy clouds and the trees outside whisper restlessly in the wind, when there is a knock on the door.

Geralt doesn’t have to ask who it is.

“Come in,” he calls.

In the last half an hour, he’d managed to concentrate on something other than his own feelings, and now feels like he can breathe again, his head clear.

Just as last time, Asra and Lucio are the first to slip through the door, and Jaskier follows. The dogs cross the room to Geralt, sniffing at his hand when he reaches out to pet them, and then jump right onto the bed.

Jaskier gasps, so sincerely that Geralt snorts, and puts his hands on his hips to give himself more authority. Before he can say anything, though, Geralt steps in:

“Let them be,” he says, watching both dogs make themselves comfortable at the far end of the bed. “There’s more than enough space, and it’s going to rain soon, the floors are going to be cold with drafts.”

Jaskier sighs but doesn’t object, instead coming closer and sitting on the edge of the bed, just like he did the night before.

“You’re feeling better, I assume?” he smiles, reaching out to brush a stray silver strand out of Geralt’s face.

Geralt has to make an effort over himself not to hold his breath.

“I told you that with your hands I’m going to be healed in no time,” he says, the corner of his lips curling up against his will. “But I might just stay in bed for today. After all, a thunderstorm is a perfect weather for that.”

Jaskier hums approvingly, and Geralt isn’t sure if that regards his decision to stay in bed or his opinion on the weather.

“Then move,” Jaskier says.

Geralt blinks at him. Jaskier rolls his eyes affectionately.

“Move closer to the centre of the bed, Witcher. Or do you not want me to stay with you?”

Oh, Geralt thinks, I will not live to see another day.

And still, he moves, letting Jaskier slip under the covers. He’s got the same clothes on as he did last night, which can only mean that he had also just gotten out of bed and has not yet changed. The only thing missing is his dressing gown.

Despite all better judgement, Geralt hopes that Jaskier will slither right back into his arms, like he did the night before, but instead, he grabs a heap of pillows and makes himself comfortable opposite of Geralt, pulling the furs from under Lucio when he comes to lie down next to him, head resting on Jaskier’s lap.

“That werewolf you told me about yesterday,” Jaskier says after a few seconds, not quite looking at Geralt. “You said that you wanted to try and break the curse?”

Geralt nods, watching him scratch Lucio behind the ear absentmindedly.

“Are there a lot of curses you’d broken?”

It seems like an unusual question to ask, especially now and not when Geralt had first told him, but Jaskier did seem genuinely curious about his hunts, so maybe he just didn’t want to interrupt. And, more than that, he was half-asleep.

So Geralt doesn’t think much about it.

“That’s not the term I’d use,” he says, shrugging with one shoulder. “Four or five, maybe, and all of them on the simple side. Curses can usually only be broken either by the one that had inflicted them in the first place, or by meeting the assigned conditions. Sometimes curses can be tricked and broken that way, but it usually requires magic.”

For a moment, Jaskier’s face falls, and Geralt can feel something bitter in the air, like disenchantment, but before he can ask or even reach out, Jaskier is smiling again, his impossibly-blue eyes meeting Geralt’s.

“It’s so exciting,” he says, throwing his head over the wooden frame of the bed. “Werewolves, curses, magic. You see so much in your life, and I have always been tied to courts and pretentious nobility. Partially by choice, of course, but I’ve also been born into it, so a different kind of life had never been too much of a prospect.”

I’ve also been born into it , echoes in Geralt’s mind, and for what feels like the thousandth time, he thinks back on the rumours about Jaskier being a prince.

He also thinks about the way his neck is torturously exposed with his head thrown back, just begging to be kissed and bitten and marked, and, by the gods, Geralt would rather concentrate on the thought that he’s in one bed with a prince.

He desperately wants to ask, because it’s killing him not to know, but surely, he shouldn’t. If he doesn’t want to ruin everything, he needs to keep those rumours to himself, even if he feels more and more like they are more than that.

“Can't court life be exciting, too?” he asks instead. “I’ve been to a banquet or two, you look like you would have fit right in, with all your silks and velvets.”

Jaskier laughs, raising his head again and giving Geralt an evaluating look.

“Why, Witcher, I’m sure you looked wonderful on those banquets, as well. Were you wearing your armour or something more… exquisite, hm? I can certainly picture you in a suit of black velvet,” his eyes sparkle. “Or without it.”

Geralt forces himself to maintain a neutral facial expression but he can feel heat crawling up his chest.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins.

He knows he’s making this worse for himself but it’s impossible not to give in to the temptation. And Jaskier takes the game on immediately, like he’d been waiting for it.

“Maybe I would,” he murmurs, seemingly completely unfazed as his fingers run steadily through Lucio’s fur. “If it’s going to rain through the day, the night is going to be a cold one, and I need some way to keep myself warm, now don’t I? I have a very rich imagination, Witcher, I could come up with the most complicated suit in my mind, only to then imagine taking it off you, button by button.”

By the gods, Geralt thinks, I am never going to win this.

“I’m afraid taking things that slow is not in my nature,” he still says, refusing to give up without a fight.

But he knows he doesn’t stand a chance, and Jaskier only reaffirms that, shooting him a smile.

“Is that why you’re looking at me like you could devour me whole right here?”

Oh, it would be so easy to just push him down onto his back, kiss that grin off his lips. Geralt has no doubt that Jaskier is just torturing him, playing for his own entertainment but it’s impossible not to indulge him.

“Oh, but somehow I doubt that you would mind,” Geralt murmurs. “Lots of people have a thing for sharp teeth.”

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed.

Every time he smiles, Jaskier’s eyes flick up, transfixed on the witcher’s canine, elongated and sharpened by the Trials. They’re sharp enough to draw blood easily, and with just how interested Jaskier is in witchers, Geralt is more than sure that he’s aware of it.

And this time, too, it works like a charm.

“Why, that’s hard to argue with,” Jaskier nods, and Geralt isn’t sure if the joke isn’t on him, for it’s hard not to break under the gaze of those blue eyes.

And yet, it’s comfortable, somehow. Almost like a pattern that’s easy to fall into.

Behind the windows, a bolt of lightning flashes through the clouds, followed almost immediately by a deafening clasp of thunder that makes Jaskier flinch. Asra and Lucio raise their heads, ears perked up, and listen, nostrils flaring as they pick up the smell of approaching thunder.

A gust of wind breaks into the room from the open window, bringing cold with it, and before Geralt can really ask what he’s doing, Jaskier already crawls under his blanket to tuck himself against Geralt’s side.

“If you do decide to use those teeth on me after all, start with the neck,” he huffs dismissively, rearranging himself to his comfort.

Just like last night, Geralt is suddenly hyper-aware of only wearing a shirt and smallclothes, while Jaskier is completely dressed, but that doesn’t seem to bother the younger man in the slightest.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs, throwing one arm across Geralt’s middle and keeping him pinned to the bed even though he weighs nothing in the witcher’s arms.

This is… something Geralt could get used to. And though the thought terrifies him, he still wraps an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, keeping him warm and close.  

“Scared of a little thunder?” he teases, the scent of Jaskier’s hair making his head spin.

Jaskier huffs a laugh, utterly unimpressed.

“If you want me to go back to my own bed, you need just say.”

In response, Geralt just pulls him closer, until Jaskier is laughing again, until he’s breathless with it.

“Alright, alright!” Jaskier pleads, slapping Geralt’s hands away. “I’ll stay, you can seize your manhandling.”

Maybe I really could get used to this, Geralt thinks somewhere in the very back of his mind, Maybe I could get used to sharing a bed with someone on cold rainy mornings and making them laugh.

He knows he shouldn’t think of it, shouldn’t even entertain the possibility of having a life like this, because he’s a witcher and Jaskier is most probably a prince of Redania, but he just can’t help himself. It’s like something in his mind refuses to abide by his rules, and instead makes him feel like his life could be more than just the Path and Kaer Morhen.

He knows he’s only making it all worse with those thoughts but there’s nothing he can do with the feeling that he gets when Jaskier is close… like when they’re together, everything finally falls into place.

And that’s why it hurts so much to know that in a few days he’s going to have to leave and never come back anymore.

For the sake of both of them.

***

Just as Geralt had hoped, it rains well into the night. And Jaskier stays with him the entire time.

They talk just about everything, and though Geralt mostly listens, he enjoys the way Jaskier’s eyes light up when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about, like poetry or fine art. Even more than that, he enjoys the way Jaskier stays close to him, under the same fur blankets, even if he eventually leaves the witcher’s arms to sit up and gesticulate widely with his arms, telling him about the Academy and the nights that he and his classmates would spend down at the Oxenfurt docks, drinking and thinking about their perfect future lives, all the while aware that they’ve got early morning lectures.

He tells Geralt about how he had almost missed an important exam once because he’d been too preoccupied with trying to get out of the forbidden section of the library that he’d sneaked into the night before and realised belatedly that it’s locked from the outside, and there is no way that he’d be able to reach the same window that he’d used to get in.

He laughs until there are tears in the corners of his eyes, and falls heavily down onto his back, looking at Geralt from under his unfairly long lashes.

It’s like they’ve known each other forever.

Having seemingly pronounced a temporary truce between them, Jaskier doesn’t tease anymore, doesn’t make Geralt feel like the flame in his chest is going to burn him alive, but he still touches.  

Geralt allows for it, because how can he not, but every time Jaskier’s fingers brush over his shoulder or chest, every time their knees touch under the covers and, worst of all, every time Jaskier takes his hand, Geralt finds himself struggling to breathe.

They skip all three meals, a day spent in bed not requiring much energy, and only drink the sweet tea that Arthur brings them every couple of hours.

Geralt wonders, distantly, what the majordomo thinks when he sees the two of them, and also wonders how many other people he had seen Jaskier sharing a bed with. That thought, though, echoes through his chest in a painful stab, and Geralt makes himself forget about it.

He’s certain that Jaskier will grow bored of just laying in bed the entire day, but the raging weather behind the windows is a compelling argument. Jaskier forbids Geralt from closing the windows, and instead just hides under the covers, close to the witcher’s warmth.

Geralt couldn’t have asked for more.

The only time Jaskier does leave the bed is when Lucio and Asra wake from their peaceful slumber and relocate to the door, having grown bored of the two of them.  

Having let them out of the room, however, Jaskier is back under the covers within seconds, eager to get back to the warmth that they hold.

And now, when there are only a few hours before midnight and the rain is still pouring, the dark sky flashing with lightnings, he finally seems to have grown tired of talking, and has retreated into Geralt’s arms.

They lie together in comfortable silence, watching the flames in the fireplace worry with the draft from the windows, and though Geralt is more than sure that Jaskier will not stay for the night, he feels… peaceful. He will have to leave in just a few days, and leave for good this time, but while he’s still here, he finally feels like he might let himself enjoy it, even if it’s bittersweet.

“The gardens are going to be a mess tomorrow,” Jaskier murmurs, more to himself than to Geralt, turning to rest his head upon the witcher’s chest.

This close, the sweet scent of pomegranate that lingers on his hair is almost overwhelming, and before Geralt can stop himself, he noses at the chestnut locks.

“Even so, they’re going to be as lovely as ever,” he assures.

“Flatterer.”

Geralt can’t see the smile on the younger man’s lips but he can hear it in his voice. His heart is beating way too fast for a witcher when he presses a soft kiss into his hair.

“Am not.”

Jaskier makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat - something pleased and content, and when he shifts, just a little, his lips brush over Geralt’s shoulder in return.

It sends sparks across Geralt’s skin, and it feels equal parts incredible and absolutely terrifying.

And, worst of all, Geralt cannot resist it.

He wraps his arms a little tighter around Jaskier and closes his eyes, listening to his steady, quiet breathing. He can see himself falling asleep like this every night. If only he could.

Jaskier stays with him almost until midnight and then, almost like it’s another part of his never-ending games, slips out of his arms to get back to his own bedroom. Geralt desperately wants to ask him to stay, to sleep next to him, warm and safe, but he can’t bring himself to.

“Find me in the gardens tomorrow,” Jaskier smiles, already out of reach. “I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, he’s gone.

[aelaer]

Inspired by the X men ask: instead of Donna, what if Stephen's mutant powers manifest after she drowns? It's definitely writable with movie-only knowledge! (I think Stephen would have some scary strong powers).

This prompt is nearing a year and a half old and is my second to last prompt from 2019 so I wanted to try to get it out of the way as I attempt to do at least one prompt fic a month to clear my inbox of those remaining.

After being stuck on trying to figure this out for so long, I decided to approach it quite differently than I thought I would, and this is my first fic writing from this character’s POV. I made Stephen's age the same as Ben's for ease. I also prove, yet again, that my ability to write short things is very much lacking.

My interest in geography 100% leaks through, and I'm not sorry.

My thanks to nemmy for helping me decide the direction of this story.

Fate Won’t Compromise Fandom: Doctor Strange, MCU Genre: Gen, canon divergence Chars: The Ancient One, Stephen Strange, Donna Strange Word count: 5k Warnings: Minor canonical character death, near drowning

In the summer of 1995, The Ancient One felt a ripple in the fabric of reality.

Such ripples, while uncommon, were not unknown to her in her many centuries serving as Sorcerer Supreme. They happened as major events within their reality shifted from the threads found in similar realities across the multiverse. While change was inevitable between realities, commonalities often brought them back to follow the same paths, to hit the same major events, to survive the same catastrophes. Reality and time were excellent in creating situations that balanced the flow again and brought them back to their natural parallels across the majority of universes.

But sometimes, sometimes the fabric of reality and time was disturbed. It happened with a change, unexpected in its improbability and big enough that it diverted the parallel lines the majority of the multiverse followed to create a timeline that diverged, crooked and uncertain. If the ripple was small enough, the powers surrounding reality often fixed itself with countermeasures—new actors, new probabilities that helped bring time back to its parallel path. But some ripples, some ripples required intervention.

And this one? Well, this one absolutely shattered reality with its ripple effect.

Hmm. It was time to consult the Eye of Agamotto and see what changed.

— — — — —

Her time with the Eye was long in her search. With such a significant ripple, The Ancient One first looked at the immediate months coming, searching for change in the most important of events for the remainder of the year.

There was nothing different. Interesting. Then this was likely an event that changed the course of the life of an individual, an individual who was very important sometime in the future. She scanned the years following more broadly after that, coming upon the events of the new millennium, both mundane and arcane, that would change the course of Earth's future forever. They all came as expected, one after the other.

It wasn't until her search took her to 2016, the year before her own inevitable passing, that she finally came across the anomaly: Stephen Strange never made it to Kamar-Taj.

The Ancient One pursed her lips; this was not meant to happen. While her sight beyond 2017 remained veiled, her experience and intuition as well as glimpses across the multiverse gave her an insight into the likely path of Stephen Strange. And from what she had seen, he was meant to be the best of them all.

So what had diverted him from the path that was written in the course of time, so much so that its lack of manifestation caused such a ripple in reality? Surely it didn't change her death; she had accepted the inevitably of that decades ago.

(She first discovered her death after the chaos of WWII, where the Masters of the Mystic Arts fought their own war against demonic invasions looking to take advantage of the chaotic time. She looked to prevent such a thing ever occurring again, then found her death. At first she wasn't concerned, and made plans to avoid it, just as she had several times before.

But it was different this time. With the Eye of Agamotto in the past, she was always able to find a route that allowed her to survive and the world to remain intact within a dozen attempts of altering her actions. It took her over a thousand attempts over the next year to realize that, no, no matter what, she was going to die before the fourth month of 2017. She never lived further than that.

And in the course that seemed most sound to her, the most consistent, she was always by the side of the unsure, amateur, but potentially great Stephen Strange.)

The Eye confirmed for her that, yes, she still died in early 2017. However, the manner of death was completely unacceptable, as it led to Dormammu eating their reality. She had not seen that possibility since she stopped trying to find a solution to her death several decades ago.

(She wondered how Stephen Strange managed to defeat him. She did not sense the end of reality after her death, so it was with confidence that she knew he found a solution. What the solution was, however, remained unknown to her. It was most intriguing. He had such potential.)

The Ancient One finally withdrew from the encompassing powers of the Eye and allowed herself a frown. She hoped Stephen Strange was not dead. It would mean finding another like him, and quite soon so she may prevent the terrible future she just saw.

Still, the ripple she felt did but not necessarily mean death; it meant change, for good or ill.

The first thing to do was to check on what was, and what would hopefully remain, her future pupil. She directed the Eye to review the timeline of Stephen Strange, going to the moment just before the ripple in reality occurred.

As she searched for that moment, flashes of memories not belonging to her flipped through her mind's eye: the first was a pair of hands on the wheel of a car, left side, as it turned off the paved road to a bumpy gravel-filled spot of driving, then quickly smoothed out to a road less rough. A large brown sign with yellow, capital letters read "Lewis and Clark State Recreation Area", with a smaller "Nebraska State and Park Commission" underneath. "Weigand - Burbach" was spelt on a separate plank just below the main sign with the same dark brown backdrop and bright yellow lettering. In the backseats was excited chatter from two others, women. Surrounding the road were tall trees of various species, all different colors of green.

Another flash, and she was now watching a small motorboat being backed up into the water from its trailer by a young man—barely a man—into a wide lake. Beyond the water the distant shore was all but flat, with only a small ridge of hills giving the horizon any distinct shape. A shrill voice shouted behind her, "Don't crash it!" and the man in the boat shouted back, "Shut up, Melissa!" Giggles followed, and then a voice came from the soul she watched, a deep baritone that said, "But seriously, if you crash it, my dad will kill you." The young man in the boat retorted, "Fuck you, Stephen!" in return, and Stephen's body shook with soft laughter. The man successfully maneuvered the boat into the water, and a short cheer sounded behind her.

Then another memory, and she was now on the motorboat, far out on the water which shone as bright a blue as the sky above. A young woman—a teenager, as they said in English in the 20th century, now—was doing some sort of sport she was unfamiliar with, letting the motorboat drag her along as she hung on by a rope with a handle at the end. Perhaps this was surfing. The teenager completed a short jump on the waves, and from her point of view, the memory's host shouted, "Nice, Donna!"

Another flash, and she was the one at the end of the rope. She quickly passed through it to the next memory. 

Time had passed; it was late afternoon, perhaps an hour or so before sunset. Her host was looking at the boat's controls. A female voice—Melissa—behind them said, "Okay, Aaron's ready to go. Start it up." As the boat motor roared to life, another voice—Donna—said over the noise, "We should get out of the water after this. It'll be dark soon." The soul behind the memories, Stephen, shouted back, "That's why we have navigation lights on this thing!"

The memory shifted again, and all four were on the boat now. The sun was set behind the horizon and the sky was painted a soft yellow before it melted into blue, then black. Stars were already appearing in the sky. Surrounding her were the other three, Aaron and Melissa and Donna, and there was a strong feeling of content within the memory. "We should get back to camp," Donna said, and she heard Stephen sigh and say, "Yeah," in reply. "Your turn, Aaron," he added. Aaron said, "Dude, I'm wiped out. You do it." Stephen retorted in return, "No, you."

Then it shifted again, and she was looking up at the darkening sky when Melissa said, "That boat's going fast." Her point of view changed as Stephen straightened himself, and she saw another motorboat running straight towards them. "Stop!" Stephen shouted as he got to his feet, and a second later, Aaron called out, "Jump!" and Stephen did, hitting the water and diving just as their motorboat was hit and destroyed. He was facing down into the murky, black depths of the lake as suddenly something hit his back, and at that moment some sort of rope or netting caught his leg and its weight started dragging him down. She could feel the alarm running through the young man's head and the Ancient One wondered if she was going to be seeing his death, now. A strange pang of regret went through her at the thought.

But then a sudden glow encompassed Stephen's body, subtle but in the blackness of the water, quite, quite clear. Confusion joined his panic but before any other thoughts came to his head, he was suddenly out of the water and on the shore of the lake. He collapsed the moment he went from liquid to air, falling on his back before turning to his side to cough up water from the lake.

The Ancient One stepped back from Stephen Strange's memories and blinked again back in the normal passage of time. As the green glow of the Time Stone's powers faded from her body, she considered the last memory.

She knew, from all her viewings of the future, that it was about this time that the mutation that came to be known as the X-Gene started popping up in the population. It would eventually have an impact on the future of Earth. But Stephen Strange was not meant to have it—or perhaps, rather, it was never meant to activate. Not if the flow of reality and time considered this an anomaly in the general course of the multiverse.

His appearance within the order of the Masters of the Mystic Arts seemed to lead to the event that prevented Dormammu's entrance into their reality, so he—or someone of his caliber—was necessary to have under her tutelage. And as he was not dead, she needed to see what had to happen to work him again onto a path that was the best for the universe's survival, regardless of this unexpected development in his life.

It was time to consult the Eye once more to determine the right path.

—————

Using the Eye worked outside the flow of time, and so all the Ancient One's endeavours, though seeming to her to take several hours, in reality only took her about twenty minutes since she first felt the ripple. She had passed through various scenarios and glimpsed at various extensions of those scenarios as needed until she had an outcome that had her satisfied with her decisions and, more importantly, made it very, very unlikely that the universe would end to Dormammu in 2017.

(Her own future, strangely enough, grew blurry and uncertain the closer she got to that year, which she found quite intriguing. She would pursue the matter at a later date.)

For now, though, she had a job to do. And so she created a portal that led her to the north shore of the lake, at the beach where the small hills lay. At this point of time it was nearly dark, and so she conjured a lantern—one of the elegant ones that they used to craft in Japan, the ones she preferred—and placed a small, magical light within the illusion. It would reveal its true nature soon enough. Despite the rockiness of this part of the shoreline, her footing was sure as she made her way along the edge of the lake.

In a couple minutes, a voice, expected and now familiar, called out to her. "Hello? Is someone there? I need help!"

In all her experience of using the Eye of Agamotto, the Ancient One had gotten very good at differentiating all the viewed possibilities to the experienced reality. Reality was sharper in every way, and the auras of people's spirits shone brighter without the power of the Time Stone to stifle them. And in the night surrounding them, Stephen Strange's aura shone very, very bright.

Interesting.

When she came close enough for him to see her clearly, his eyes widened as he took her in. She knew her resemblance was considered odd by late twentieth-century standards, but the memory of centuries of lice infestations made hair still undesirable and robes were infinitely more comfortable than jeans. But she was aware of its oddness, and as he stared, the Ancient One took the time to also observe him beyond the fuzziness of the Eye of Agamotto.

The gangly boy sitting in the sand in front of her hardly resembled the arrogant, talented man she had come to know through her past use of the Eye. Just breaking the cusp of manhood, his hair was still fully dark brown, and he wore a sleeveless blue shirt with long swim shorts, all still wet despite the time out of the water. His cheeks were fuller with the last remnant of youth still remaining, and the look in his eyes was wild and unguarded. Filled with fear.

Quite different from what she was used to.

"Who are you?" Stephen Strange whispered.

"A friend," she answered. She placed the lantern on a rock before settling down in the dark sand near him, about five feet away. "I mean you no harm."

He continued to stare at her, then looked at his leg. It was bleeding sluggishly and would need stitches. "Can you please help me? I—I'm not sure how I got here, but there was a boating accident and I—I need to find my friends and my sister. It's on the lake, I swear, I don't know why we can't see it from here but the accident just happened and it can't be that far."

She let him finish before she broke the news. "You are about seven kilometers west from the site of your accident, on the north shore of the lake. I believe you call this part of your country 'South Dakota'."

Stephen's eyes somehow widened even further, then he quickly shook his head. "No, that—that's impossible. That's completely impossible."

"Just as impossible as finding yourself drowning at the bottom of a lake one moment and being on dry land in the next," she said agreeably.

The wide-eyed look seemed it would remain a permanent fixture on his face. "Wha—how—how do you know about that?"

"It is my job to know of such things," said the Ancient One. "It is also how I know that, if you are found so far from the site of the accident, you will draw unwanted attention upon yourself."

Stephen visibly swallowed and looked around them, as if the unwanted attention was already watching. "What—what do you mean?"

The Ancient One offered him a benign smile. "You are not the first to perform the impossible. When figures of authority learn such things exist, they pursue them. And your story would draw their attention. Historically, your country has been known to use extraordinary people as assets when needed. Many kingdoms and governments throughout time have."

A soft wind blew in from the south, causing Stephen to shiver in the oncoming chill of the night. Regardless of his discomfort, his wide eyes narrowed into something more calculating and thoughtful. "Why are you telling me this? What do you get out of it?"

"A future ally, hopefully," she answered truthfully. "I have no interest in taking you from your studies, Stephen Strange—yes, I know who you are," she said, the benign smile coming again as he startled. "Your name is the least I know about you."

He stared at her once more, mouth hanging partially open. As the wind blew through again, he snapped his mouth shut and rubbed his shivering arms. "And why—why should I believe you aren't part of these secret government groups, or part of something that wants to use me? Why should I trust you?"

She kept that slight smile on her face as she answered, "Because I offer my assistance and ask nothing in return. I will guide you to the shoreline just north of the accident, and show you where you may find help. I recommend a forgetful memory between the crash and you reaching shore, which is quite common in times of traumatic events. No one will suspect anything different about you, Mr Strange."

The boy fidgeted at the name, as if not used to it. He really was a young thing, wasn't he? "You can get me there? Do you have a car nearby?"

The Ancient One smiled and lifted her lantern. "Remember what I said, Mr Strange." She let the lantern disintegrate, leaving only the glowing ball of light. Stephen's mouth dropped. "You are not the only person who can do the supposedly impossible. Can you walk unaided?"

Stephen snapped his jaw shut at the question and looked down at his leg. He pressed his lips together, and then with a grunt, he slowly shifted his weight under his legs, most of it on his good leg, before he pushed himself up into a standing position.

She offered another slight smile and held her hand forward to create a portal further east along the lake. "Follow me." The Ancient One did not bother to look at his reaction to the gateway, but had the ball of light follow her through. When she turned, Stephen was limping just through the portal, and after he got through she allowed it to close.

They were on the shore again; to the south in the water, a mile or so away, she could see the distant pinpricks of shiplights at the scene of the accident. Stephen, too, stared in that direction. But she forced his focus elsewhere when she pointed to the northeast, to the pinpricks of light beyond the trees. "Do you believe you can make it to those lit buildings? It is perhaps two hundred meters away. They should have a phone."

He offered a nod. "Yeah. My leg's not so bad."

"Good," she said. "Then I recommend you go that way; it may be some hours before authorities search the shore for you." She looked back at him. "I would not tell anyone of what truly occurred to you; such tales have an unfortunate habit of getting out, no matter how private the story is meant to be."

Stephen frowned at her, and she offered him another one of her benign smiles. "I will come to see you again, after you have had some time to recover. Good luck, Mr Strange." With that, she let the glowing ball beside her fade out, and created a portal into one of the darker rooms of Kamar-Taj and left the young Stephen Strange on the shore of the lake.

—————— 

Two weeks later, the Ancient One created another portal to the midwestern United States, landing underneath a narrow strip of trees that bordered a small creek that made its way through wide fields of agriculture. The nearest field beside her was corn, and just beyond it was a half-harvested wheat field. The trees bordering the water were a mix of oak and pine, specific species she was not familiar with but that she could broadly identify due to the commonalities found within their relatives in the Eastern Hemisphere. It was just after midday in this place known as Nebraska, and the summer sun was pleasant in this corner of the world, with a soft breeze taking off the edge of the dry heat.

She saw no one at first, but if the sling ring brought her here, that meant Stephen Strange was also nearby. A faint trail followed the bend of the creek and she paused in consideration before her instincts led her to go southwest.

In a few minutes, she came upon him. While her step was soft, the silence of the trail around them should have alerted Stephen to her arrival. But his back remained turned to her as he sat beyond the narrow trail and on the slope that led into the creek bed. His chin was propped on his knees and, since he had not heard her approaching, the Ancient One knew his mind was quite far away.

"Mr Strange," she said in greeting.

The young man violently started out of his daze and nearly lost his seating as he twisted around to stare at her. It seemed to her that he had aged some years in the last two weeks; his eyes were dark and sunken with lack of sleep, and his entire expression appeared drawn and pinched. His lips tightened for a moment, then he said, "It's you again."

"I did say I was going to return," she reminded him. She approached the sloping hill beside the creek and sat down beside him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his expression tighten again. She remained quiet as he gathered his words. "Did you know?" Stephen asked after several passing seconds of heavy silence.

The Ancient One kept her gaze on the small creek. She knew what he was asking, and she would not play any games pretending otherwise; it wouldn't serve her purpose. "I knew that, by the time I came to you, your sister had died."

The tenseness beside her did not lift; if anything, it grew heavier. "Did you know Donna was going to die?"

An interesting question. She considered her answer; a multitude of answers would lead to an acceptable outcome, but this was reality. "We don't get to choose our time," she started. "In some probabilities, the question of death is split between a thin line that sways from one option to the other depending on the reality. In other instances, death is all but certain." She spared a glance at him; Stephen's grief was now layered with confusion. "I am sorry to say that, in the wide expansion of possibilities, your sister's death was largely unavoidable. All points led to it."

The young man's face contorted in anger. "I don't believe in fate or whatever the hell you're talking about."

"Some may call it fate," she answered, and looked back to the creek. "I call it probability. You may have been told, at some point in your life, that there are random events in life that are unpredictable. This is untrue, at least on a larger scale. Each event of consequence has a set probability in occurring, with the powers balancing reality and time ever trying to keep them as consistent as possible in the grand scheme of the multiverse. Certain people are always born. Certain events always occur. Certain items are always invented. Around people of consequence, events play out so that they may help play the part that they are meant to play."

In the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen run a hand over his face. "Look, lady, like I told you: I don't believe in that bullshit. And if you're trying to tell me that my sister was meant to—" He cut himself off and turned his head away. She saw his knuckles tighten to the point of turning white with the strain.

She slowly exhaled and closed her eyes. She had not spoken with youth who did not know her for who she was in some many years; she could not remember the last time a young person had spoken to her with such disrespect. But she had to keep in mind that Stephen was grieving, and that he was absolutely clueless.

Perhaps if he saw a small glimpse of what she saw, he would understand.

"I would like to show you something, if you would allow it," said the Ancient One as she opened her eyes and looked at Stephen.

His eyes darted to look at her with a side glance, though he did not look at her fully. "Show me what?"

"What my powers allow me to see," she said. His eyes narrowed. "It won't hurt or leave any lasting effects."

She saw the internal struggle, but one thing she knew well of Stephen Strange: his curiosity always got the better of him. And as she expected, he relented and said, "Okay, fine. How do you do that?"

A slight smile appeared on her lips. "Like this," said the Ancient One, and she placed her thumb upon his forehead and connected her third eye to his unused, undeveloped one. She picked from her memory a set of images gained by using the Eye of Agamotto in conjunction with the Cauldron of the Cosmos to explore the realities across the multiverse, the images she picked up some years ago as she looked into the man known as Stephen Strange and what he became in other realities.

And the images she chose were specifically referring to his sister's death. As she let him see various versions of himself (some with slightly different physical features, and a couple further in the past, but so very much Stephen Strange), she said, "The multiverse is a strange thing in its consistency. Donna Strange was not born only to perish at such a young age in every reality, but the probability was stacked against her. And many named Stephen Strange have experienced the grief you feel now. It is not your fault that the universe stacked probability against her survival."

She removed her thumb from his forehead and Stephen collapsed, rolling down a couple feet down the slope before catching himself. Laying on the ground now he panted heavily, trying to gain his breath.

When he finally raised his head, tears were streaming down his face. "It should've been me," he choked out. "She didn't deserve to die! None of those—" He cut himself off and shook his head, then angrily wiped at his face. "I—I don't know what the fuck you were doing—"

"I was using my powers to show you what I have seen," she interrupted, cutting him off for the first time. "After what you managed to achieve at the lake, are my abilities really so hard to come to terms with?"

Stephen shook his head again and pushed himself off the ground so he was standing. The Ancient One remained sitting and kept her expression neutral. "Okay, fine, so you have some crazy-ass powers that—that make no sense. I get it, you did physics-breaking things at the lake, too. What the hell does that have to do with me?"

She offered a benign smile. "Surely you haven't forgotten your unusual journey from the lake to the shore. Or have you been telling yourself that it was all a hallucination?"

By the look on his face, it appeared that that was exactly what he was trying to do. That would do no good.

"Unfortunately for you, your powers aren't just going to go away," the Ancient One said. "Whether they will manifest under physical or emotional stress I do not yet know, but they will return if you do not know how to control them."

"And what, you can teach me how to control them?" Stephen asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Yes," was her simple answer.

Stephen's eyes remained narrow, then he cut off his stare to run a hand through his hair and shake his head. "And what would you want out of me in return?"

"Nothing you are unwilling to give," said the Ancient One. "You can continue your studies as you wish. Go on to become a doctor."

"How did you know—" He paused, cutting himself off, then shook his head. "You know what, never mind. Go on." 

She offered her smile again. "All it would require is some of your time to discover the extent of your powers and to learn ways in which you can best control them. Consider it an extracurricular activity, if you would like."

"And what do you get out of it?" he asked.

"The knowledge that those with unusual powers remain hidden from those who would exploit them," is what she answers, but in truth, it was so much more. Still, it was not yet time to tell him that; he was too young. Too green.

Stephen looked down and crossed his arms as he considered her words. His expression was stone, but she knew what he was going to answer. If there was one thing predictable about Stephen Strange, it was his curiosity and his hunger for knowledge. It was his ambition to be the best at whatever he set his mind to, and a new ability suddenly within his hands was one meant to be conquered for him.

He then nodded jerkily, just once. "Okay. Sure. When do we start?"

The Ancient One smiled and stood. "How about now?" She opened a portal to one of her private rooms in Kamar-Taj, where she was rarely disturbed. It would not do to show him everything of the compound immediately, but it would come in due time.

He hesitated. "I need to be home for dinner at six."

"That is quite doable," she answered, and waited.

A couple seconds of hesitation passed, and then Stephen Strange lifted his chin and walked directly into the portal to Kamar-Taj, over two decades earlier than expected. The Ancient One followed him and closed the gateway behind her, leaving behind the quiet creek to flow under the bright green leaves on a sunny Nebraskan summer day.

— — — — — 

The big happy moment for me in writing this fic was that the town I chose for Stephen to grow up in and alluded to in another story is pretty close to this lake, so that worked out great. The most disappointing discovery, on the other hand, was that the Google Maps car only got like, the major roads in Nebraska. That does not include annnyyyyy of the roads near the Lewis and Clark State Recreation Area. And their promotional video didn't help in determining the details I wanted.

But then *the best thing* happened and on the camp's location on Google Maps, some beautiful, beautiful person took a photo of the entrance of the campgrounds, which was the exact detail I needed. So I dedicate this fic to Denis F. and their photo. (We're gonna pretend that the road and sign's 100% been like that since at least 1995). As much as I'd like to make an excuse to go to a lakeside attraction for boating fun, I'm sadly not a millionaire and cannot throw away thousands for the sake of fic accuracy. Alas. Once I win the lottery, though, 100% will commit to this. (Also, it's January and freaking freezing in Nebraska right now.)

FYI, Donna was not surfing, but wakeboarding. I just doubt that the Ancient One has bothered to learn all the new sports that popped up in the latter half of the 20th century - especially as one as young as wakeboarding was in 1995.

Hopefully the emotional roller coaster in the last bit worked. I've had conversations that just went all over the place like that before—crazy emotional subject to another crazy subject that just shook you to the point that the emotional subject was put on the back burner for processing—so hopefully people can relate.

[itwillbeall-dwight]

trials in error

danny "jed olsen" johnson | the ghost face/felix richter; fluff and angst; canon-typical violence; enemies to fwb to lovers to enemies lmao; 5677 words

a/n: did i finish two fics in the same day? yes i did. i’ve had this done since one in the morning but didn’t want to post it them bc no one would see it by the time it was flushed out of the tag bc tumblr hates fic writers for real actually.

my friend booker is to blame for this. they mentioned this pair to me offhandedly but then i turned around and made this, and basically learned 2 things. 1) writing danny is fun, and 2) i have. a lot of feelings. about them.

while i have a couple of long pieces to finish, requests are still open, so if you liked this and would like smthn written, feel free to shoot me an ask!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?” The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. “Alright. 10-” “Ah, wait, but what about-” “-9-” He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars. Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

Another day, another trial. As the fog cleared from his vision, the Ghostface flipped his small knife in his hand, feeling the silent breeze whistle through the tendrils on his uniform. The Autohaven Wreckers was as sorry of a sight as it always was, but one that he’d grown quite accustomed to use as his playground. From the sight of the old garage, he could almost pick out memories of all the times he’d scared the pants off of the poor survivors, which he took more than enough pleasure in doing. Danny looked around, still absently flipping his knife in his hand as he formulated a plan, taking a brief moment to watch the ever-present moonlight glint off of the freshly cleaned blade before he looked up once more, a slow grin forming behind the mask as the game began.

 Poor Meg thought he was stupid, thinking she’d lost him at a simple enough loop around a pile of tires, all up until he pulled her off of her generator with a cackle (“screw you, creep” she said as she slammed her fists into the back of his shoulder - changed her tune real quick after he slid a hook into hers). Nea didn’t hesitate in giving him the runaround, powering a generator in his face and slamming a locker door into him for good measure. Danny knew the girl would throw a palette at him if she had the chance - she was the most fun to play with. But he soon lost her, so soon after catching her, but it was that detective asshole that ruined their fun, as he’d shone a damn flashlight in his eyes while he had Nea on his shoulder, finally, enough for her to wiggle free and run off again. And by the time his vision had cleared, the both of them had gone. Danny growled - as much as he enjoyed fun, it was only when he was winning was it any good.

 It was while he was stalking around the battered old killer shack looking for the bastard that he saw him for the first time. Blonde hair, broad shoulders, and a fancy suit that just screamed rich, with a touch of “please tear me off or splatter me in blood, both sound great”. A man he didn’t recognize, sat on a generator, eyes darting around as he worked the best he could with shaking hands, clearly on edge about being left on his own to work. Whatever annoyance he had in him melted like hot wax, as he approached, slowly, knowing this guy would be a wonderful victim to mess with. The killer’s fingers curled around the edge of the wall as he watched the man, the way he swallowed and sighed, muttering to himself in reassurance in a tongue that sounded familiar to him, too quiet to tell. The generator got louder and louder, its mechanisms and inner parts in tune as the man worked his magic, almost letting himself smile in triumph as he grabbed another wire.

“Hey there, handsome.”

A voice from behind his neck, raspy and deep, caused him to jump, a spark sending the generator into smoke as he turned, face going white as he pushed his back against the wall.

Oh, he was right. He was going to be fun, all right. Danny chuckled. “Oh, sorry. Did I scare you? Tend to do that. It’s in my… nature.”

The man swallowed, glancing around for any kind of help, seeming to find none as his attention turned back to the killed, speaking in a low, rich voice, though it shook from fear. “Don’t you have… things, to be stabbing?”

“Why, is that an invitation?” He laughed again, leaning up against the generator and crossing one leg over the other. “Nah, I’m just kiddin’. Ain’t it enough to get to know the new neighbours? Haven’t seen you around before, pretty boy. They smuggled you in, huh?”

“I… suppose.”

He hummed, tapping the blade of his knife against the metal of his knife, the clanging making the survivor jump. Oh, bless him - well and truly, it was a mistake for him to get caught up here… but a happy mistake, to be sure. “Got a name?”

“Huh?”

“Like I said, I like to know the neighbours, ya know… real close and personal. A preference. Bit of normalcy. Soooo…”

He remained silent. So he was a little bit smarter than what he’d look like, from the way he was shaking in his rich white boots. Impressive.

“Tell you what.” He folded his arms over the top of the generator, looking the man in the face as he rested the side of his head against his forearm. “You’re still a noob, and I can’t be having anything fun with that. I’ll give you, hm… 10 seconds to run and hide, phone a friend, you know… not die, but after that, you’re all mine. Sound good?”

The blonde remained silent, blinking at him in bewilderment. That was as good of an answer as any. 

“Alright. 10-”

“Ah, wait, but what about-”

“-9-”

He didn’t say anything after that, dropping the wires in his hands and taking off into a sprint, stumbling as he stood to his full height - and oh boy, was he a tall guy - and turned a corner of old cars.

Danny chuckled, standing up to rest his ass against the side of the gen, flipping his knife in his hand as he kept counting down. “8… 7… 6-5-4-3-2-1- ok, here we go.”

 Curious as it was, he lost the blonde beauty soon after he let him go, instead finding Meg oddly open about where she was, spriting right into his vision. Not that he was complaining; a game was a game, and if the runner decided that she wanted to play tag, then who was he to turn her down? Especially when she was so easy to catch… though as soon as she was hooked, flashlight clicking and Swedish profanities in his ear was enough to make him chase after Nea rather than go after his original chase once again… they were painting a target on their back, and for what? To save the new guy’s skin? He wasn’t an idiot. Just surprised that some of them had the compassion.

 Well, they managed to get another generator done, but the two girls were dead, and a soon injured Tapp was surely soon to follow them. A means to an end, it seemed, as his knife plunged into the detective’s side and sent him crashing into the dirt with a grunt of pain, rolling over onto his back with one eye open, the other wincing in pain, the shadow of the killer cast over him in the moonlight as he wiped his blade.

“OK, Detective, we’ll make this real nice and simple.” He crouched down next to the survivor, taking note of how the blood pooled around him as he laid on his back, staring up at him. “Tell me where your new friend is hiding, and I’ll let you live.”

Silence.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard of a choice to make. I’ve heard getting sacrificed is long and painful, like your insides are getting ripped at over and over again until, poof, you’re back again, at that cozy little campfire, only a little bit more traumatised to show for it. Now, you want that to happen to only one of you, or both of you, hm?”

Tapp looked away, seeming to ponder the possibility.

“Self-preservation instincts, Detective. I know you have them.” He tapped his knife into the dirt. Humans were fickle beings, easily swayed when their life was on the line.

The detective sighed, chest shaking from the strain. “Fine. I know where he’s hiding. But I can’t… breathe right, with a knife in my chest, so come a little closer.”

Danny blinked, but surely he didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve, so he did as he was told, for once in his life, letting his mask get inches away. “Yes?”

A moment of silence, before there was a whisper in reply, backed by the assurance of an idiot who knew he was going to die regardless, as he spat blood pooling in his mouth onto the mask of the ghost almost pressed against his own. “Go fuck yourself.”

He was almost stunned at the bravado, leaning away with a chuckle, though he gritted his teeth through it. “Oh, you’re a funny man. Absolutely hilarious, you know that?” But still, that was as good of an affirmation of choice as he was going to get from someone so stubborn, so Danny grabbed him by the front of his vest and hoisted him up onto his shoulder.

 The screaming echoed as the heavens opened up, the Entity surely pleased with her feast for the evening, but he still wasn’t done… oh no, far from it. There was still one more handsome devil to track down. Danny rolled his neck, grinning at the gentle cracks from the strain, strolling more than hunting, at this point, for the well-kept survivor he didn’t know the name of, but was practically dying to know. He almost skipped up the crane, looking out of the window as Rapunzel did out of her tower window, before chuckling to himself and hoisting himself out. Danny tapped his blade against his hand, almost going to begin whistling if not for the angelic cries coming from the hill just close by. A grin overtook him, as he chased the calls of cherubs from the ground below.

 He slammed that hatch shut with a satisfied sigh, throwing his knife between his hands as he looked around and arched his neck for the doors. Normally the whelps would just give up at this point, but the guy was new, and probably didn’t know what was best for him. Still, the doors were easily within view, so if he made it out of this alive… well, he wouldn’t, so no promise needed to be made. The killer chuckled to himself, finally settling on wrapping his fingers around the handle of his blade, curling one by one, slowly and deliberately for no one in particular, before setting off to take part in the real game that had begun.

 He had no idea how he did it. Perhaps Danny had become too complacent in his work. But that handsome devil slipped past him more than once, enough for him to open up a gate and tiptoe his nice ass into certain safety. The survivor stared at him from inside the gate as he walked past in bewilderment, shaking like a dog in the rain that was just waiting to be gutted, battered old medkit in hand. And while he was stunned, the man swallowed, nodded, and left the trial head high, descending back into the fog as it began to consume the old gas station, leaving Danny to stare into darkness, barely blinking.

 Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?

—

His name was Felix, he’d learned from the pig in the meat plant, having overheard it while she watched him blow the generator out by accident and got cursed out by the familiar bane-of-their-existence Swede. German, from the way he’d spoken to Danny by the generator in their first encounter, high up on the social ladder from the way he dressed (unless he’d gotten all dressed up just to see him? Funny, that would be, but very unlikely), shaken by the fog and with a disposition not unlike a lost dog. 

 And yet, despite his nerves and cluelessness to the fog, he always seemed to escape him. He didn’t know how he did it, but from finding hatch to evading the hooks, Felix somehow managed to keep him on his toes. Trials were somehow more exciting, knowing there was a challenge, and a chance to catch he who refused to be caught. Danny knew he was going to revel in the moment, when it eventually came - there was no way someone could be better than him, when he was so in his element.

So, after not seeing the man for the entire trial while hunting through the streets of Badham, catching him at the gate seemed like a dream come true. And he was none the wiser, as Danny quickly slammed his hand against the wall next to the lever, making him jump and freeze, pulling his hand away, two bright lights reflecting onto his face. “And so we meet again.”

“S-so we do.” He ran a hand through his hair before it found a place at the back of his neck, quietly taking a few steps back.

“Aht, aht. I wouldn’t run. I’ll just find you again anyways.”

He stopped. 

“...You know, I don’t quite know how you do it. It’s like you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

“That is… the point, is it not?”

“Oh, how rude- people come here to see me, surely. I’m a spectacle; call me a master at my craft.”

Felix chuckled - god, he chuckled, though it was riddled with nerves, but it most certainly happened, and sounded great - fiddling with the cufflinks on the sleeves of his suit jacket as his back straightened a little, as if flicking a switch to go from sorry sight to professional businessman. “Well, I… don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me why?”

He blinked. “Are you… flirting with me?”

“Am I?”

Danny wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, from the way he stood beside the lever at the gate, leaning a shoulder against the brick and folding his arms across his strong, broad chest (the way his shirt was unbuttoned just so was something Danny now noticed, and couldn’t stop noticing, barely tearing his eyes away to meet his gaze again) with an almost expectant look. “You’re... a weird one.”

“I… suppose so. Anyone normal would have ignored you and already run for their lives.”

The killer chuckled. “You’re not… entirely wrong. But I gotta say, I do like that. Among… other things.”

Though his eyes weren’t visible, it was as if the survivor knew exactly where he was looking, coughing and covering his mouth with the side of his fist. How cute was that?

He almost couldn’t contain himself. But he managed, somehow, not sure where this whole thing was going, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “Say… how far are you willing to ask that question, anyway? You really wanna know that bad, huh?”

Felix swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up again, with his piercing blue gaze, lips parting just so into a coy little smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Danny had never thought a man of such sophistication was willing to whore himself out for freedom, but sure enough, he himself opened the gate to let the German go, almost sad to see him leave (though it wouldn’t be for long), but very much enjoying the view.

 He paused. He was supposed to catch him and kill him, wasn’t he? Danny frowned, somewhat troubled, but tried to justify it as returning to old habits in Roseville, as he left the gate, and waited for the fog to consume him again, taking a seat just outside the battered old preschool.

—

It was like the attraction of magnets with twice the force as soon as they saw each other, wasting no time as suddenly Felix’s back was slammed into a tree, a loose and cold gloved hand finding its way up his shirt, sending a shiver up his spine for another reason as he felt lips hit his, with a hunger and desperation he was not expecting but certainly didn’t mind reciprocating, as Danny soon found out. And he wasn’t complaining; he was damn good, for a man with the disposition of a 40-year-old virgin, moving his hands to Danny’s wrist and placing his hand on his waist, which again, he did not mind at all, while the other was still halfway up his shirt. Let the man take the lead, at least for now, because it’s the only chance he’ll get to.

 Danny chuckled as a hand moved to grab his ass - quite the eager beaver, wasn’t he? He was practically purring as he pulled away, the survivor trying to follow him before reeling back as he moved to kissing up the side of his neck, listening close to the adorable little whimpers that came out of him as he squirmed in his grip. The killer then went to move his hand out from under Felix’s shirt, finally, casually undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt one by one, taking the time to walk down his chest with his fingers and feel the shaking breaths of anticipation under his fingertips. Oh, the things he wanted to do-

 Distant voices were enough to make the survivor crack open an eye, pausing before he began to push the killer’s head off of his neck.

“Hey, hey,” Danny didn’t appreciate the interruption, moving to look up as Felix looked around, like a startled animal, though he still purred in the crudest fashion. “C’mon, buddy, I was just getting started.”

“Quiet.” His voice was low and commanding, still shaking from adrenaline.

And for whatever reason, Danny complied.

He swallowed, listening to the silence of the wind in the barrens of the fog-covered forest and there was another distant call, which upon hearing he began trying to wiggle out of the killer’s grip. “Off.”

“Why?”

“They’re looking for me-”

“And you don’t wanna be seen with me?” He gave a mock gasp of offence, though the grin that was slowly growing larger still remained on his face.“Oh, honey-”

“That’s exactly it. Move, please.”

That was enough to make Danny chuckle, squeezing his hips that he still held, enough to make him yelp a little. “Still so polite. If you want me to do somethin’, hon, you gotta be a little more, ah... demanding, yeah?”

Felix glared. “Alright. Get off. Now.” His voice had an annoyed growl to it, though his voice still cracked a little out of embarrassment, as he pushed down on Danny’s arms to let himself go.

“There it is.” And so he moved, standing back and sliding his hands into the pockets of his cloak. He watched the architect fiddle with the buttons on his shirt to redo them again, rushing to do so and messing it up a few times, mumbling to himself. “Need help?”

He glared again. 

Danny laughed, observing how he looked like a kicked puppy as he went back to fiddling with his shirt, pulling down his own mask again to hide what little of his face he had revealed. “You know, I think you’d look much better with it off.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, that’s not what you were saying with your eyes earlier-”

“You were a lot more tolerable when you were quiet.”

“‘Cos I never had a chance to speak, what, with you all over my mouth.” He shrugged as he spoke, as if it was a nonchalant fact, only smiling wider when he heard Felix try to stammer out a flustered reply, to no avail, choosing instead to simply huff and finish off the buttons on his shirt.

“Regardless, this affair is over.”

“Wait, hold on.”

“What?”

The killer moved his hands up to Felix’s neck, watching the man flinch and hold a breath with a soft chuckle, gently undoing a few of the top buttons that he’d redone. “You normally wear it like this.”

He gently touched at his collar, looking down at his fingers and then to the mask starring back at him. “And you’ve noticed?”

“Hard not to.” He shrugged, tugging at the shirt collar and going to fix up the waistcoat too before his hands were slapped away, which he held up in defence with a grin behind his mask. “So when are we doing this again, sunshine?”

The survivor moved away before he could’ve boxed in against the tree again, taking a few steps towards the direction of the campfire and the voices, though not too far as to disengage from the conversation, perhaps a little unsure how to. “You speak like this will be a regular affair.”

“Well, we had fun, ja?” 

“...Are you mocking me?”

“Not mocking, just… appreciating the culture.”

Felix started, smoothing down the arms of his suit jacket with a light scoff of disbelief. “Truly, you’re insufferable.”

“Can't say you didn’t enjoy yourself though, huh, mein Schatz?” He leaned his shoulder against the tree now, folding his arms across his chest, earning him a weak-hearted glare.

“Werde gefickt.”

“Gerne.”

Being outplayed in his own game of native tongues, somehow, Felix conceded, looking down at his cufflinks again. “You’re… not entirely wrong, so ...perhaps a name, so I can find you.”

“Oh, so now you want to know me? What happened to a one-time affair, sugar?” 

“When you’re so easy to please, I would be an idiot not to take advantage.”

Danny laughed, shrugging with no retort (though he was uncertain if hitting this pretty boy like a fish was just as good as getting in his pants… that much was yet to be determined). He soon trailed off, swallowing to himself, a lie escaping him as effortlessly as it had always done. “Jed Olsen.”

“Mr. Olsen…” Felix pondered for a moment. “...Ja, OK.”

—

So they’d been fooling around, yeah. Danny had always said he was willing to try it, should an idiot be brave enough, and if it was someone that wasn’t either Ace or David - he was a man with some standards, even with the blood on his hands - but never had he thought about it getting this far.

 The sun never rose or set, but people slept and woke as time passed, regardless of the light outside, and that was no exception here. If anything, it was the cold chill of Ormond that awoke him from sleep, though he’d grown complacent in it, realising the teens that called this shithole a home would probably evict him if he so much as dared to complain. Danny still grumbled, attempting to pull the scraps of the blanket over himself, but finding it unable to move. Turning over, he now heard the sound of gentle snoring, the body, next to him sometimes shuffling, but remained mostly motionless, aside from the movements of breathing from his chest. His latest fling, almost his newest obsession… god, he still looked perfect, even now, golden locks of hair falling out of form, the lighting of the shitty little cabin not enough to hide that perfect jawline tickled with stubble in all the right places, red marks down his neck and back from an encounter that had lead them right here, in the bed he was practically renting in the corner of the resort.

 They’d gotten a little adventurous, hadn't they? Banter in the trials was one thing, borderline voyeurism in the entity’s forest was another, but here? Letting himself be taken back to the realms to stay, where killers were not technically bound by rules of obedience, with Danny of all killers, a man who loved to bend the rules? Felix Richter was a smart man, that much he knew, but by god was he stupid. Maybe he thought there was a good man still in there, in the Ghostface. Well, that was his mistake; it was almost cute for him to still hold out hope though, regardless of how much disappointment was awaiting him down the road. Danny gently ran fingertips along the sleeping man’s arm, feeling the soft skin underneath his touch, smiling despite himself, only pausing at the gentle stirring he caused, practically freezing with his hand in the air as the architect moved, and slowly opened his eyes, sleepily smiling.

“Good morning.”

“...Hi,” he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, letting his hand fall into the space between them. “Hardly mornin’, but sure.”

“Close enough.”

“Sure.”

There was a soft, amused hum from the other man, adjusting his position a little to better face him, hair falling out of place just so, like some disheveled Ken doll. “I would ask if you slept well, but-”

“Oh, very well, thanks to you. Really outdid yourself this time; I gotta say, that was almost the most fun I’ve had since I got here… or maybe even before-”

A light shove to his chest made him stop and laugh a little, feeling the slight coldness of metal from a family ring against one pec, and almost wanting the light touch of his hand to remain there, before it hit the mattress with a thump, dangerously close to Danny’s. “You’re a funny one, Mr. Olsen.”

He sat up, resting an elbow on the stained old pillow and holding his cheek with the corresponding hand, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you liked me better when I was quieter?”

Felix stared at him with those perfect eyes of his, and he laughed - like audible silk it was, smooth and defined, with a sleepy smile and everything - adjusting himself with a hand under his pillow. “Sometimes. Sometimes I like to hear you.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ve been told it’s my best quality.”

“Hmm. Is it how you make jokes to deflect, or how you talk out of your ass?”

“...Well, hey now, Princess, ouch-”

As he tried to defend himself, the survivor smirked, somehow braver here than anywhere else (and it wasn’t his persona), quipping back to match him, and as he was talking, Danny paused, watching the way his eyes diverted and how his mouth moved, how he talked with his body and the way he smiled and waiting for a small hum in response, and how Danny liked the way his name sounded coming from his mouth, even if it wasn’t entirely the true one. Almost made him wonder what the real thing would sound like… no, that was too much, right? Couldn’t get attached. He wasn’t attached, was he?

 Couldn’t hurt to wait a little more to think on that, before escorting this pretty little thing back to the campfire.

—

So he was thinking about Felix a lot more than was normal for an obsession of his. What started off as a vengeful curiosity had morphed into something else, something so ugly yet so beautiful, foreign to Danny in recent years, or perhaps his entire life. Was this how high school girls felt, chasing after the jocks for a chance to get them off, and maybe start a high school whirlwind romance? Well, he certainly wasn’t a prepubescent cheerleader, but the survivor that had caught his attention seemed just like the squeaky clean Prince Charming that girls drooled over.

 And he couldn’t have that. Not at all.

 The fog cleared out of his vision slowly, and he opened his eyes, almost rolling them as the field of corn came into view. Coldwind - the rotten fields, it looked like, from the wide expanse of produce hiding his vision. Despite the cards not being in his favour, a game could still be played here, if he played his hand, carefully. And he was planning to. He’d let himself get distracted. But not again.

 Getting back into the routine of the hunt was like sliding into a comfortable sweater, blood shedding with no tear from him. Laurie was always a thrilling chase, her determination being almost cute. Quentin was similar, though the boy with insomnia had a lot less appeal than the virgin final girl, to be sure. David, of course, was David - loud, frustrating to deal with, and incredibly annoying. And… Felix. He knew how he felt about Felix already.

 As well as he tried to play it, this time, the game was not in his favour, and quite quickly generators across the field were powered, with only a few hooks under his belt. Getting to a gate, it was already beginning to open, three of them already filing into the funnel of the exit. But Felix, he was lagging behind, and without thinking, Danny took a swipe...

 ...No one escaped death. Not even the man he may have fallen for.

 As he wiped the blood from his blade with a gloved hand closed around it, he watched the architect grasp at his side and stumble, leaning a shoulder up against a wooden wall for support.

“Go.” He called to the woman in the blue shirt, standing at the gate.

“Felix, we can’t-”

“I said go, Laurie!”

She gritted her teeth and went to ignore him, running back into the cornfield, but a grip and pull on her arm from David stopped her, as much as she tried to fight against it. Quentin was the last to leave, watching the two of them for a moment before he swallowed, and chased after them, a medkit in hand.

 “Alone time, eh? Hon, we’re on a time limit here-”

“Just get it done.”

Danny tried to laugh. But it didn’t… feel right, somehow, even if it was the same as it always had been. As Felix leaned against a wall to support himself and slid down, knees buckling underneath him, he crouched down to meet him. “I dunno… no fun when they don’t squirm, you know?”

“...Jed-”

“Danny.”

He paused. “What?”

“It’s Danny Johnson. My name, I mean. I lied, when we first met. ...Surprise!” Knife still gripped, he tried to do a small jazz hands movement, though it seemed a fall flat. Only hurt more with what came next.

“...I figured as much.”

“Oh yeah? And why’d you set yourself up for failure like that, sunshine?”

“Because… I don’t know. I thought you were like me.”

The killer deflated a little, tilting his head to one side.

“I… maybe, I thought you were playing something up. I always felt… something else, there. Maybe something even you didn’t know about. Under all that ego, Mr Ol- ...Mr. Johnson, there was a man who cared, once.”

He tapped the blade of his knife against the floor. “...Maybe. I dunno.”

“Do you think he’s still in there?”

Danny didn’t reply right away, dragging his blade through the dirt by his feet absentmindedly. He didn’t entirely know, at this point. Normally this would have been the end of their little game - it was over, he had caught him and won - but something was stopping him. The ground shook, reminding him of that first moment where this fascination had started to plague him. “...You’ve done something to me, Felix.”

He hummed, trying to shift where he sat, holding his side where the blood had stained his very nice suit. “Have I?”

“Must have done. Because this isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

“That’s the reality of most things, I’m afraid.”

“I hate it.”

The survivor almost laughed, though it was pained and strained, clearly struggling… but was the sliver of it that made it, that small smile on his stupid, perfect face - that was enough, it seemed, to make Danny smile too.

He pulled up his mask entirely, tugging down his hood and fixing his hair with a quick ruffle, feeling the cloth tendrils on his sleeves whip behind him from the movement. The killer took a second to stare at Felix in front of him, before he moved his hand up to his face, watching him flinch. “Hey- relax, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you yet.”

“Yet.”

Danny hummed, cupping his face and wiping away the blood starting to dribble out of his mouth with a finger. “There. You’re a messy little boy, aint’cha?”

A cough, more blood involuntarily spilling out from his mouth now, this time splashing onto his shirt and the front of Danny’s suit. “My apologies. I’ll make sure to bleed less next time you stab me.”

“‘Ppreciate it, babes.”

Though he thought the man would shove him away, he instead seemed to lean into the touch, moving a hand to hold onto Danny’s wrist. “You still smell like cheap cologne.”

“It’s the only thing they sent me here with. ‘Sides, your scent goes away after a while.”

“Gross.”

“The one and only.”

And despite his small smile, of both annoyance and amusement, the third overwhelming emotion behind his eyes was that of sadness. The ground shook around them, but they didn’t seem to care, not until Danny moved his hand away and stood to his feet again, grabbing his knife from the floor and wiping the dirt off of the blade on his thigh.

 “Is this it, then?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“...It was fun.”

“Oh yes, it was.” He looked down at his knife, pressing the tip of the blade against his finger and twisting it, the moonlight and bleeding of the ground catching the light of the metal. “...For what it’s worth? You were close.”

“Close to what?”

“Makin’ me a person. Ya know, not a prick, like… an actual loser, with empathy. Almost had me for a sec, hot stuff.”

“Is that why you’re stopping this? Are you scared?”

Danny swallowed down a reply. He took a moment to look down at Felix, who’s eyes had followed him the entire time, making a small ‘call me’ sign with his free hand and forcing a smirk. “If you ever decide you wanna make a mistake again, you’ll know where to find me.”

“...Goodbye, Danny.”

He walked off into the corn, not wanting to see the way those blue eyes stared at him anymore, only stopping at the pained screaming that followed. The shaking of the ground had stopped now. She had come to feast.

 As he stood in the middle of cornfield, he looked up at the sky of the farm, overcast and grey, tendrils of the Entity reaching down to claim her prize, and fog swirling around him to take him back, to lay in wait, until the next time.

 He was right. His name did sound nice coming out of Felix’s mouth. 

[rokutouxei]

only this wonder remains

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark isaac newton/reader | gen | 2948 | [ao3]

or: the 5 times isaac tried to understand, and the one time he realized he didn’t have to. 

for my beloved friend @pathofcomets!

happiest, happiest, happiest birthday to the absolute kindest and most loving and most encouraging person i have ever met in my entire life! i may or may not have reread your isaac fics a billion times to get him quite like you like, and if i missed, at least enjoy the fact that um, i’m having apples today in (the both of) your honor? te iubesc, mama: thank you for joining me in this stupid crazy journey that is 19th century france with vampires.

--

(one)

isaac newton likes things set into order.

math, math is great—math is numbers and patterns and those things make sense and the order is there. physics too: everything in the universe has a set structure, and it’s all just figuring out what that structure is and what it entails. isaac newton likes things in neat rows in color-coded, labeled, square boxes in his mind.

and that is everything you aren’t.

which is why isaac doesn’t quite understand how he’s fallen in love with you so fast. emotionally, yes, sure, emotions, are, he supposes, a thing, but rationally? he doesn’t understand it. where he likes predictability, you are anything but. you are new dishes being served during dinners. you are excited squealing as you’re reading a book. you are catching his hedgehog (very nervously) from its hiding nook, after it was chased by the exponentially larger dogs. you are songs he’s never heard, songs from centuries in the future. you are wide eyes and open arms and isaac doesn’t understand.

but he adores it.

appreciates it.

the day after you’d decided to stay in the mansion, and the door had stayed shut throughout the rest of the fateful, crescent-moon night, vincent takes home with him a basketful of apple strudels, gifted to him by the lovely baker downtown.

you aren’t able to get one before dinner, but just right around midnight, you remember they are there. with a sudden burst of excitement, you pull at isaac’s sleeve until he accompanies you downstairs. your eyes shine like crystals in the kitchen light as you bite into the sweet bread—and isaac… isaac doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that fills him at the sight of it.

you turn to him quickly, offering him a bite. “you like apples, don’t you?”

the sound of dazai’s and arthur’s voices compound in his head, every single apple joke thrown at his direction over the past what-feels-like-a-million-years echoing in the caverns of his skull, taunting him.

but he doesn’t mind.

he doesn’t know why he doesn’t mind being unfolded like this, but he doesn’t.

he takes a bite of the strudel and sighs at the sweetness.

“it’s delicious.”

-

(two)

he tries, he absolutely tries his damnedest to sound nonchalant, but he fails. rather miserably, too. he’s still standing at the doorway of your room, hesitating to enter even when you’d already opened the door for him.

“where are you going?”

you finish twirling a lock of hair into place, before turning away from the mirror and toward him. “ah, comte’s taking me out dress shopping.”

again, he hears you nearly say; but then why are you still going? “don’t you have enough clothes?”

securing your earrings into place, you sit up from your dresser chair to approach him. “‘the most important of the labours of a high society woman in this late 19th century,’” you begin, “‘is to look beautiful.’ … that’s what le comte always tells me.”

“labours that you already fulfil,” isaac notes. the sudden admission makes you flush, so you pull him by the wrist and guide him toward the bed. now seated next to each other, you entangle your fingers with his.

“we’ll be back before dusk,” you try to appease him. “i’ll ask comte if we can do a detour at that bakery with the strudels we like.”

for a moment, isaac is silent; his hand twitches in yours as he considers. of course, he knows that comte means no harm. if anything, the worst is that comte is quite overbearing with how gracious he is at times. there’s no reason to be feeling this way, to be even doubting, he just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with him to the university library—he has to pick up a book he forgot to borrow, and maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of a picnic while you’re already out in the city, that’s all, you can always do that some time else, and so why is he—

he groans. by jove, why is this so hard. he turns and presses his face into the junction of your shoulder and neck; the fabric of your dress is in the way of the thrum of your pulse, but not quite thick enough so he still feels your warmth.

you laugh like it tickles, and he’s about to straighten up when you take his face in your small hands, holding him at eye level to you, your gaze so beautifully clear and bright. it’s as if no matter how hard he tries, with you he is see-through.

“i’ll make it up to you,” you say, pressing a little kiss at the corner of his lip, “…tonight.”

all at once, he doesn’t understand why the sour, sour feeling in his chest suddenly tastes so sweet.

-

(three)

you were radiant.

that was, to say the least. isaac wasn’t knowledgeable about fashion, not a bit. sure, he can vaguely tell what an “average” outfit is (cue the several lengthy discussions to alleviate confusion when sebastian had kindly gifted you with a few items of clothing to wear around the mansion that were, say, anachronistic) but trends and styles are beyond him. to him, if the clothes can protect him from the elements, they are enough, and doing their job.  

but seeing you out there in the ball room? made him realize that maybe… maybe that wasn’t the only point after all.

he’s wearing the most fashionable get-up for the night (because, alas, comte would not let a single one of his residents leave without the best of suits) and yet he feels so… underdressed, looking at you.

which is probably just about right, considering this is the party to celebrate your first year spent at the mansion.

(the first of many, he hopes.)

isaac returns to memorizing the details of your outfit. a beautiful silk gown in this sort of matte gold, embellished with swathes of intricate lace. the cut of the dress is made to accentuate your best features, and oh, the low scoop of the neckline, revealing your shoulders, emphasizing the milky skin beneath, maybe, a place to sink his teeth…

you’re off to a corner of the ballroom across him, engaged in discussion with mozart and theo while you’re holding a glass of alcohol. (he knows you enough to be nearly entirely sure it’s probably a non-alcoholic drink in your glass, just the right shade to seem like so.) mozart says something that makes you laugh, hand flying to your mouth.

(isaac seethes inwardly, wonders what the pianist could have said.)

theo makes eye contact with isaac across the room, and isaac quickly turns away from the man’s pointed smile. and because he does, he doesn’t get to prepare himself for when you inevitably approach him—having been goaded by theo—bumping isaac’s shoulders lightly.

he takes half a second to curse that wily little brother-obsessed man.

“won’t the great professor ayscough honor me with a dance?”

he doesn’t understand why, doesn’t understand why allows this—for him to be tossed and turned in a surge of emotions and thoughts and things he really hadn’t bothered to consider in the past, for him to be oh so irrevocably twined around your finger.

“what makes you think you can do this to my poor heart?” he whispers, and your laugh—oh, your laugh, fills him to the very core.

-

(four)

a part of him curses napoleon for saying it; another part of him thanks him.

the three of you were on your way back to the mansion after an afternoon teaching the kids in the city at the usual spot when napoleon had—rather absentmindedly, almost as if off-handedly—mentioned that the kids seemed to be more… obedient when you were around. you’d raised an eyebrow at him, explaining that you’re actually rather, say, awkward with kids. napoleon had shrugged the comment off, going on a tangent that they seemed to be more likely to follow instructions when it was you who’d call them out, as compared to him and isaac.

and then, the heaviest words in the world.

“maybe it’s because you’re like a mother to them.”

it was too early. you and isaac had never thought of kids and—you’d never really thought of anything, rather. there was only the now, and isaac found himself rather enjoying the pace. should he have discussed this with you already? was this of utmost importance? what if you didn’t want kids with him? what if you did? what does it mean—to do that? what changes? what stays? what—

“pfft,” you chuckle. “that’s only because the two of you are more like cheeky older brothers than teachers, you brats.”

after the corresponding laughter, the conversation soon swerved to other things. but isaac couldn’t leave it at that. instead, it lingered and clawed at his brain for the following days to no end, always making its presence known at the back of his mind whenever he’s thought it’s past him. he hadn’t thought of bringing it up to you because, again, it seemed like you’d taken the entire thing in stride, as you always do, with the grace and wisdom of someone literally beyond his time…

but most importantly, because he didn’t feel like he was ready to hear the answer quite yet.

alas, the universe does not wait for one to be ready for things.

the next time the three of you are downtown, you’re humming as you produce a little jar full of homemade candy as a reward for the children’s hard work of studying. (isaac huffs a little; it’s just calculus, it’s not so bad.) the enthusiastic children rush toward you, and you gently get to their level, squatting down and handing them two candies each.

isaac… is stuck into place, watching intently as you greet each child; you know them by name, know their nicknames; you match the candy appropriately to their favorite flavors, pat them on the head, ruffle their hair, pinch their cheek gently. you compliment the little flowers the girl has put in her hair, enthuse about how the three rag-tag boys look stronger than ever.

and isaac—well, he doesn’t understand why he knows but he knows: this, this is what happiness is.

your smile, the star-like shimmer in your eyes, the sound of your laughter intermingling with those of the children the both of you (!) are raising to be dreamers and thinkers of the future.

isaac is helpless; no science can explain this; unable to do anything but allow you to knock him to his knees like a beam of sunlight shot through the prism of his heart.

flooding his world in a spectrum of colors.

-

(five)

on one night you don’t feel entirely upright, you confide your deepest fears to isaac. these were fears he’d thought were to be expected—fears that made sense—but he hadn’t realized were actually hiding in your shadows. worries and frets about the uprooting from home, the time and the place of your existence. the weight of the knowledge of what comes in the future, the foresight of it. the instability—the unsureness.

isaac does not know what to do with all this. he cradles every word in his hands, holds them so carefully like they will shatter, feels each shaky intake of your breath sink underneath his skin like some sort of warning, some sort of premonition.

of the one day you might have to let her go.

of the one day you might have to do the right thing.

of the one day it will hurt.

of the one day. and you will never understand why.

but isaac is no longer afraid of them.

(he doesn’t know why yet, but he will soon.)

instead, he holds you in his arms in the silver glow of the moonlight, until your shaking stops. until you feel gravity settle you back onto the bed, just like all that isaac had written of it. until you press your face into his chest and sigh deeply. until your exhales feel lighter, like you’ve expelled all the thick fog that rested between your bones.

and isaac… isaac doesn’t know if he should ask, if he has the right to ask, if asking will make a difference, but the part of him that constantly wants to be able to understand things makes him, so he asks—

“what made you stay?”

and the answer is so simple, it’s rather silly how he doesn’t understand.

“because i have you.”

-

(+ one)

long before he had met saint-germain and had hidden away in the count’s mansion for silence, isaac newton was, ultimately, just a mere human: one that tried to make sense of the world around him, set them into categories and definitions that were easy to understand, and thus use. but a human nonetheless. and hundreds of years back, long before the turn of the century in paris, france, in the arms of the only woman he feels like he has ever truly known to really love, there was a little fairy tale he believed in: one that they’d called the philosopher’s stone.

a stone of ridiculous, preposterous qualities. it could turn simple metals into gold and silver. it could heal all and any sort of illness. it could make someone live longer. it could turn crystals into precious stones. it could revive the dead. it could make you immortal.

just by its mere existence, it could give someone the power to turn one thing into something entirely different.

and now, with the scientific development of the late 19th century—and even further, far into the future where you’ve come (he’d asked)—there is still no philosopher’s stone. the facts are in: it is not real, and centuries spent attempting to create this enchanted thing have led to not a single step toward proving its existence. it’s a powerful thing that is too great, it just isn’t allowed to exist.

that was what isaac thought, except as of late.

because maybe… maybe the power is already in human hands.

after all, what else would have given you the ability to make him like this? how else to explain all the miracles you’ve done: to fill the parts of him that used to be hollow; to heal him of the wounds he’d been putting aside; to revive the portions of his heart that he thought—and he’d kept—long dead?

to turn him into gold?

it is morning now, just past sunrise of september 1st, and you’re lying next to him on his bed, still fast asleep. just the sound of your even breathing fills him with a breathless joy it makes him feel rather stupid. the sheer fabric of your nightgown is not enough to hide the pink, red parts where he’d kissed and marked you last night. he wants to run his fingers through your hair, but doesn’t, lest he wakes you up.

he’d pledged his humanity aside for silence, and a space to think, and oh, have you given it to him.

this is what peace feels like, he thinks.

gently, he takes out of its hiding spot a rectangular box. opens it and takes out its contents: a pair of earrings (which he’ll give you later), and a lovely golden necklace studded with pearls; little flowers and suns down to the middle, where a hefty ruby glimmers deep blood red.

just like a philosopher’s stone.

he tries not to wake you, when he strings his little gift around your neck, but the movements jostle you, and just as he clasps it closed at your nape, you wake.

you turn to face your lover with “good morning” halfway out your lips when you feel the cool of the necklace on your bare skin. you look down at the intricate piece of jewelry, the smile uncontrollable on your sweet, still sleep-hazy face.

“isaac—”

“la mulţi ani,” he says—or, well, tries to say, as his tongue curves awkwardly around the words. he does sound rather close though: he must have practiced, and practiced, and practiced.

“thank you,” you say, sitting up to face him properly. “it’s beautiful. i’ll treasure this.”

isaac’s brain is on high speed—i’m glad she liked it, i was worrying, what if she didn’t like the design, then what about the earrings, should i have given her a ring instead? no a ring is too early, this necklace is just right, also fashionable for the times. i asked comte about it—it was so damned embarrassing but i asked him, and—but he silences it, quiets it down by taking her hand in his, presses a kiss on the knuckles gently with his lips.

and, as he always has been, and always is, and always will be—he stumbles for words, clumsily trying to make sense of the thunder-lightning rumbling in his chest, how he’s supposed to say thank you for all that you have given him, all that you have made him.

so instead, he presses your hand against his warm cheek that is a fresh apple red.

“my favorite merișor,” you tease, brushing the stray hair off his face before pulling him into a gentle, warm embrace. and, well, he’d wanted to ask what that meant, but he quickly realizes it doesn’t matter, as he tucks the unfamiliar syllables of your language in his heart.

it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand.

and maybe, just maybe, there are things that he never will really comprehend.

but it’s okay.

he can be that merișor.

as long as he is yours, he can be anything.

--------

[title came from could i love you any more by jason mraz & reneé dominique]

[fresh-outta-jams]

Plastic Heart - Part 21

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: Hey, so I know it’s been like a literal YEAR since I’ve worked on this, but I wanted to give you guys some more content and wrap up the story. This may or may not be the last I write of this. I’m not sure, but I was kind of winding down to the end of this when I was still actively working on it anyway. Keep your eyes peeled for the Epilogue. Warnings: None? Word Count: 2k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

A few months passed and your birthday was rapidly approaching. Namjoon was in a panic. He didn’t know what to get you. He’d get you BTS’ new album, but you already had it. He couldn’t get you the BTS Funko Pops because then, you’d just have more living toys running around your already-chaotic apartment.

Jin, currently, was in the kitchen baking a cake. He’d become human a few nights before, and just in time to learn how to make cake before your birthday. So, he was practicing. At the moment, he was putting a crumb coat on a lemon cake, as he’d learned from the internet.

“Jin, I don’t know what to get her.” Namjoon said, pacing around the kitchen. “She’s everything to me and I don’t even know what to get her for her birthday.”

“She will love whatever you get her, I promise. She loves you to pieces, Joon. It’s your first time celebrating ANY birthday, let alone hers.”

Namjoon took a breath, nodding. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“He IS right.” Yoongi piped up from his seat in the other room. “You’re overthinking it. Just go to the store and pick out something she’d like. A new sweatshirt or some movies or something. She’s not picky.”

“Or!” Hoseok ran into the kitchen, followed by Jimin. They were still only a foot tall each, but they were looking to change that as soon as possible. The remaining four had agreed to turn one by one, though, as not to overwhelm you with new human roommates. Plus, you were still looking for a bigger apartment to house everyone in. Your cozy little one bedroom was already too small for the four human inhabitants you had so far.

“You could make her something! You know, something from the heart!” Hoseok continued.

Jimin nodded. “I know she’d appreciate that.”

“That’s a good idea…” Namjoon thought, rubbing his chin. “I don’t think I have the skill to make anything, though…”

He was going to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Namjoon walked to answer it. When he pulled it open, Melody was waiting there, holding a reusable shopping bag full of champagne bottles.

“Oh, hey Melody, come on in.”

“I’ll be quick. I just have drinks for the party tomorrow. Figured I’d drop them off because I’m gonna be a bit late.”

“Yeah, of course. You can just set them on the counter.” Namjoon pointed back towards the kitchen, where Jin was still diligently working.

Melody stopped at the sight of him, staring for a long time. Namjoon chuckled a little at her reaction. You had mentioned Melody was a Jin fangirl.

“H-hi. Have we met?” Melody asked, brushing a piece of hair out of her face.

Jin looked up at her with wide eyes. “Um, no, not yet.” It was technically a lie. He vividly remembered the night when she, Ella, and Luna had slept over and he’d been in Melody’s perfect hands all night. “My name is Jin.”

Melody was stuck, staring at him with stars in her eyes. So distracted by his handsome face that she didn’t even notice Hoseok and Jimin quietly sneak back to your bedroom. “I’m Melody.”

Seizing the moment, Jin stepped forward and took Melody’s hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She stared for another long quiet patch, her cheeks bright red, before he finally remembered her task. She set the champagne on the counter, giggling through her embarrassment and the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. “Um, well, I’ve gotta go, uh, do homework. See you guys later!”

She rushed out the front door, positive if she spent one more second with Mr. Handsome, she’d explode.

“Smooth.” Yoongi noted, saluting Jin. “Well done. And nice fake name, by the way. Aren’t we supposed to be throwing people off our scent?”

“It just slipped out!” Jin retorted. “She’s...beautiful.”

“Can we focus here? The party’s tomorrow, and I still don’t know-”

“Tell you what, let’s go out shopping right now and pick out something for your girlfriend. I’ll help. I think I have excellent judgement.” Yoongi stood up from his chair and slipped on his hat and mask.

“Good idea.” Namjoon nodded. He checked his phone real quick before slipping it into his pocket. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Yoongi nodded. “Jin, don’t burn the place down while we’re gone.”

Jin laughed. “No promises.”

***

You got home about an hour later. Namjoon and Yoongi were still out. You stopped at the mailbox outside and brought in the one thing inside it: a single envelope that said it was from your Aunt Matilda. She was your favorite aunt, the one who had inadvertently sent you on this whole journey to begin with. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have your amazing boyfriend at all.

You sat down on the couch to open it, but were interrupted by a stubby little arm poking at your ankle. You reached down and lifted Koya onto your lap, petting his little head.

“How was your day today, Koya? Did your uncles take good care of you?”

“Of course we did, (Y/N),” said Tae. “We’re the best uncles ever.”

“Indeed you are. How silly of me.” You chuckled. “Do you know where Namjoon is?”

“He and Yoongi went out.” Tae answered, climbing up onto the couch. “To do some ~secret shopping~...”

“Oooh, secret shopping, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, chuckling as Koya got comfortable, already asleep on your leg. “Sounds interesting.”

You opened the envelope and pulled out not only a note written in your aunt’s gorgeous cursive handwriting, but also a necklace. It had a black chord, a blue crystal dangling from the pendant on it. You admired it for a moment before putting it on, and then you unfolded the note to read it.

“My dear (Y/N),

Happy Birthday! I am so proud of you. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman. You are more powerful than you know. I see so much of myself in you and I’m beyond proud to call you my niece.

The necklace I enclosed was one I owned when I was your age. It served me well, and I hope it will serve you also.

I see so much greatness in your future. I hope you have fun on your next trip around the sun.

Blessed be,

Aunt Matilda”

She was cryptic, but she always had been. You smiled and folded the note, letting your fingers drift to the necklace hanging around your neck. Maybe you were going crazy, but you swore you felt it vibrating faintly.

While you were thinking about it, though, you heard a key in the door, and it opened, revealing your beautiful boyfriend and Yoongi, each of them holding a handful of bags.

“Aaah! Baby, close your eyes!” Namjoon said, and you laughed, lifting your hands to cover your eyes.

“They’re closed.”

“Okay, good. I’ll be right back. Stay put.” He said. You heard his voice as he walked past you. You heard him rummaging around a bit in the other room, and then he returned, his large hands gently removing yours from their spots in front of your face. When you could finally see him again, he was crouched down in front of you, the softest look in his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just missed you.” He replied, taking your face in both of his large hands and kissing your forehead gently.

You laughed. “It’s only been a few hours.”

“I know.” He motioned for you to get up, so you did, and he engulfed you in a hug, Koya cuddled between you. You snuggled deeper into his broad chest. Never did you think this would be your reality, but it was. You were dating the sweetest, kindest guy in the entire world, and the fact that he looked and sounded like your bias of seven years was just the icing on the cake. You couldn’t wait for your birthday and all of the birthdays after it, as long as you had Namjoon by your side.

***

The next night, all of your friends came over for your birthday party. Jin had made a beautiful cake, and there was plenty of pizza, pop, and alcohol to keep the good times rolling. Namjoon doted on your every want and need, making sure you were happy and well-cared for on every level.

“Namjoon, I am FINE. I don’t need anything else.”

“Okay. Just checking. It’s my girl’s big day after all.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, kissing your forehead.

“Happy birthday!!!” Ella called, walking into the apartment with presents and a few bags of chips. “Let’s get this party started!!”

Yoongi set up a speaker and started playing the party playlist he’d put together, and you started dancing with the others, bopping around the kitchen. Hoseok, Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook were all in your bedroom with Koya, but you hoped they were having a good time, too.

It looked like Jin and Melody were hitting it off. You weren’t surprised. Melody had been a Jin stan since the dawn of time, so although your Jin didn’t look EXACTLY like Seokjin of BTS, he was as close as she was ever going to get, probably.

Namjoon watched you happily dancing and smiled to himself. So much had happened since he met you. He remembered a time not so long ago when he’d been a foot tall and made of plastic, hopelessly crushing on someone who didn’t even know he was alive. And then there was the fateful day where Taehyung sneezed and changed your whole lives. He’d been standing on your dresser, trying to calm you down. He’d been so tiny then, he reminisced, laughing softly. He had no idea what was in store for him, then, the giant world he was destined to join.

He wanted to be your boyfriend so bad that he’d manifested an entire new life for himself. One where you and him could FINALLY be together, and he couldn’t imagine things any other way.

“You okay?” You asked, gently tilting his face up towards you.

He was sitting in a chair, taking a little breather and staring at you with a familiar look on his face. “Of course I’m okay. Why?”

“You’ve got your thinky face on.” You laughed, moving his arm so you could sit in his lap.

His arms snaked around your waist and he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Just thinking is all.”

“About what?”

“You. It’s always you.” His deep voice murmured, his chest rumbling softly as he said it. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you.” You kissed the end of his nose and then his cheek, right on his perfect little dimple.

“Cake time!” Jin declared, lighting the candles. He was eager for people to try his baking.

You stood up from Joon’s lap and walked over to the lit cake. Joon followed, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Make a wish,” he whispered, squeezing your hand.

You mulled over it for a second and then you smiled, leaning forward to blow out the candles in one puff. As soon as the smoke started to rise, the necklace your aunt had given you glowed. You stared at it in shock, unsure of what it meant. It was then that the door to your bedroom opened, and a life size pink-haired Jungkook peeked out. He tentatively walked towards the kitchen, followed by Jimin, Tae, and Hoseok, all of them human.

“(Y/N)...” Ella asked, staring at them. “What the fuck did you wish for?”

“Noona, something weird happened.” Jungkook said, happy tears welling in his eyes. He pulled you in for a giant hug, which you gladly gave him.

“Yeah, you don’t say.” You giggled.

“I’m gonna be busy, aren’t I?” Luna laughed, shaking her head.

“I think we all are.” Yoongi added.

“What’s happening?” Melody asked.

Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a long story…”

Tagged:  @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu, @coldbookworm, @sitkafay, @daniawinchesters21, @okaysoplshelpme, @zamirayinyue13, @douseeme16, @thetofuartist,  @iie-wakarimasen​, @lilgaga98​, @catbugsugarpea​,  @demonic-meatball​, @backtonormalthings​,  @kbowen9

[fizzingwizard]

Yay it’s my favorite time of the week! Digimon Adventure:! Can’t believe we’re already at episode 16! This week somewhat recapped the mission we’ve been on for... 14 episdoes now x’D and I realized I forgot all kinds of shit. It’s so funny, when I was ten and watching Digimon Adventure I could remember everything, but now that I’m sadly an adult I can’t keep track of these high paced children’s shows!

(Supposedly they spoon feed kids stories so they can understand it more easily... but I gotta say I think I’m the one that needs the help, bahahaha)

ALSO... apparently there was an earthquake this morning! It was too north of me so I didn’t feel it (I was... also sleeping >-> so...) But it was right when the show started airing so the info came scrolling across the screen. At first it said

“Just in case, be careful of tsunami”

and like just three min or so later

“There is no need to worry about a tsunami due to this earthquake”

Phew! Also, Digimon causes earthquakes! Hide yo wife hide yo kids! Is that meme still current?? Does it matter???? I’m a millennial, boomers hate me, gen Z hates me, at least let me have my memes! XD

OK enough goofing off, on to what really matters, freaking Digimon man! This episode gave me tons of Taichi spam. Mmm my favorite kind of spam! But it also gave me avocado cheeseburger spam too!

So although I completely forgot about it, I was pretty excited for this ep when they allegedly return to the real world! Last week’s preview made it pretty obvious it was going to be either a fake reality or the evil Digimon had taken over the real world much more deeply than we realized. Fake reality made the most sense. But they tried to trip us up anyway! The opening shots are clear references to the famous episode 21 of 99 Adventure, although given that was the best animated episode of the entire show, this one just doesn’t do it justice.

He’s not sweating, the sun isn’t as intense... it just makes Fizz nostalgic

Finding them suddenly home, the kids are all pretty bewildered at first. Predictably, Mimi is the first to recover. What motivates her?

AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER! AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER!

From Burger Jack’s bahahahaha

Mimi starts excitedly listing all the things she wants to do now that they’re home. Aside from eat delicious burgers, she wants to take a shower, change clothes...

I’m like “Oh, so these kids HAVE been feeling the effects of how much traveling they’ve been doing!”

Seriously though why didn’t anyone comment on it before now?? In 99 Adventure most of the kids couldn’t shut up about the lack of basic necessities and creature comforts. It was really easy to feel how much they were struggling! Everyone in this series is so darn serious all the time. Sora even brought that big bag of emergency supplies but we only rarely see it get used.

Taichi and Koushirou are a little more wary, though they come across as mainly confused.

Mimi wants to go eat burgers right off, but Taichi convinces her they should go home first. “Oh yeah, I have parents” - Mimi, probably.

They get on a train. The Digimon are very cute. They finally notice that no one’s paying attention to them. It took 0.3 seconds for Tokyoites in ep 21 of 99 Adventure to start freaking out over Koromon, so this was a big clue if you somehow missed that there’s something not right.

On the other hand, for a world that is presumably an illusion created by some Digimon, it sure is, er...

... accurate in surprising ways, bahahaha

(no seriously did we NEED bikini girls?? did we NEED them? I know it’s everywhere on every train for all kinds of proucts but did we NEED them here)

(the TEEN 17 in particular is killing me)

Some gratuitous Taichi spam

Mimi lives in the affluent Shibuya area now so the kids split up to continue on home. I love Taichi called her ‘ojousama.’

Taichi wonders if Yamato and the others got home okay too. Koushirou wonders if whatever was causing the blackout has really been defeated. (Mimi’s theory is “Sora-san and the others must have done something about it!” Which I just liked because by naming her she identifies Sora as the one she feels closest to awww)

They won’t say it, but the truth is these two are kinda disappointed... lol

However they won’t be disappointed for long... because this midnight train really isn’t going anywhere. *wink* see what i did there

Mimi’s walk home has also turned into a labyrinth. Which is totally normal for Toyko subways really. Mimi gets so tired from walking that she starts hallucinating that Palmon’s head is in fact an avocado.

Girl you got a problem but no judging. I got the same problem.

AVOCADO BURGER!! Think of it in your heart and it will appear!

Now that’s not creepy at all.

Several episodes ago we learned that Mimi has never seen The Mummy. Apparently she’s never seen any horror movies at all, because she still approaches the counter to order her freaking burger even after seeing the cashier’s shadowy clearly evil visage.

YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR LITTLE GIRL

On finally realizing that this train can’t go anywhere but Shibuya, Taichi and Koushirou get off and reunite with Mimi, who has learned nothing and continues talking to people. The only possible result of this is...

... creepy eyes appearing and trying to EAT her

Mimi: “Taichi-san!!”

she could ask her partner for protection but Taichi’s around and he’s everyone’s big brother so

The cause of all this mischief turns out to be this creepy dude! He’s kind of cute!

Also rather larger and more solid than I anticipated!

Of course this nightmare won’t end so easily.

You know you’re in for it when the walls are covered in glowing red eyes. That uh, shoot laser beams at you.

Cyclops: Not lasers! Concussive optic rays!

It turns out there wasn’t just one creepy dude, there were many. I’ve found my Halloween costume!

Our heroes finally figure out that this world is not their real world when they come across these tetris people.

For someone who’s never watched a single scary movie, Mimi does an impressive white-girl-in-a-horror-flick face.

I know she’s not white I’m saying she’s good at impressions she should become a comedienne

Now that we know the blackout in Japan is still ongoing and causing all sorts of issues, we get our usual peek into what’s going on for the people of Tokyo. We get to see Hikari! She’s cool as a cucumber. Her mom’s freaking out and packing a suitcase. Her mom says “Hikari go get ready!” Hikari just says “Oh I’m ready anytime!”

Hikari: I’m not worried about anything, big brother’s taking care of it!

Awww we get to see Miko! And that looks like a cat carrier <3 Mom’s not leaving their furry friend behind in the dark while they evacuate to grandpa’s place in Ibaraki...

... She is apparently cool with leaving behind her only son though! X’D

The letter reads “Taichi, we’re going to Grandpa’s place in Ibaraki. Call me when you get home.” The arrow says “Address.”

Ibaraki is a bit over an hour from Tokyo (I used to live there!) so not too far and very easy to get to by train. Still... there’s a huge power outage, I can only assume Mom’s reason here really is evacuation and not just “seems like a great time to go on a visit!” but she doesn’t know where one of her kids is and she’s just like “eh no worries he’ll figure out his way home!” Does she KNOW her son is 11? Japanese kids use trains very independently but again, POWER OUTAGE. ONE HOUR+ AWAY.

I’m remembering episode 1 when Taichi was acting like such a Dad and his mom was totally on board. Apparently that is going to be a Thing in their family. Taichi is the kid in Home Alone. Scratch that, he’s like the pets in Homeward Bound X’D

Mimi is understandably disappointed that she doesn’t get to shower... I mean see her parents... I mean, eat a freaking avocado cheeseburger

But Palmon knows how to make her feel better. “We’ll come back here someday and eat avocado cheeseburgers together.”

Mimi: “Heck YEAH I’m psyched!! AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER!”

this show understands the only true way to a woman’s heart is through food.

Our heroes are surrounded by Homunculus from FMA.

They merge together forming the aptly named EYESMON!!! lmao

Look at freaking long Greymon’s cyborg arm is. Whut.

AtlurKabuterimon gets hit by a train buhaahaha. Somehow this was way funnier to me than Lilymon getting hit by a plane or buildings falling on MetalGreymon.

The kids are outnumbered when look who appears!

The three of them sitting on Zudomon is the cutest thing ever also I JUST NOTICED ZUDOMON’S DOLPHIN PATCH WHAT THE HECK HAS THAT ALWAYS BEEN THERE!??!?!?!!?

So this was the reunion ep after all! I’m a little disappointed just because I wanted something more dramatic.

What Fizz, illusion magic and homunculi plus exploding Shibuya isn’t dramatic enough for you?

I mean EMOTIONALLY dramatic. Like, someone should hug.

Oh well. This is the face Taichi makes when he sees Yamato. D’aww. I guess i’ll be satisfied with this.

Yamato gets them started on a plan and they all fight as a group!! But Koushirou’s realized that this Digimon, whatever it is, is what’s causing the blackout. They can’t properly defeat it...

... and it’s already the night of the third day. Soon their 72 hour window will be up. Then Ariel will turn back into a Mermaid and the Sea Witch wins :’<

We end with an ominous digivolution! Next week....

Orochimon!!! I love multi headed monsters.

More Taiyama action!!! Lookin a bit beat up but still cool!

OK so in sum this episode was pretty fun. I still feel like the writers for this season just don’t dig in deep enough to really make things come alive. They’re so concerned with battles that they miss moments for fun character interactions etc. And in the end, the whole of this episode can be recapped simply as “They discover the world they’re in is an illusion and they fight the bad guy.” However, we got a lot of fun with Mimi in particular, and though we didn’t get the kind of Taishiro teamwork my heart yearns for, at least we saw them sticking together and hashing things out.

I really do hope this show dials up the character relationships a bit soon though. We keep getting tidbits so it’s not like they don’t have things planned. It’s just a matter of execution. Anyway I’m happy to have the whole group (well as many as we’ve got so far) together again!

[ct7567329]

Handsome: Echo x Reader

Before I start I wanna let who ever asked that I do have your Jesse request coming :)

~~~~~

Prompt: A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking -- where neither person thinks twice about it.

~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't okay and every second you spent looking at him, you prayed you wouldn't fall deeper in love. This didn't work.

You wiped the beads of sweat off your forehead with your arm and turned your head. On the equipment behind you, Echo had his eyes shut, his arms lifting the heavy weights off his chest. The ARC was wearing the Republic supplied work out shorts and tank, exposing his toned biceps.

You were one of the Jedi that didn't see the clones as clones, but individual men, and something about Echo that made him stand out was his well earned biceps. Every now and then when you caught a glimpse of him, you would think about how his strength could dominate you any day. But, you always let those thoughts quickly escape you mind. It wasn't the Jedi way.

Before getting too deep in thought, you left the on cruiser gym and went into you quarters to freshen up before the next mission.

*******

"You're troubled," your master informed you as you walked into the briefing room, "Your mind is clouded."

As much as you agreed, you weren't willing to tell him much, "I'm a Jedi Knight now. It's okay." This was your go to excuse, and he never liked that. Though your rank did change, it didn't take away the fact that you would always be his padawan. Ever since you said that, he gave you a stern look. You had to change the topic, "can I go with the 501st?"

"The 501st is on leave at 1300," he informed you, putting up a holopad, "but I could give you a break as well. You've gone well beyond your expectations lately."

You nodded and asked him if he needed anything else before you left.  There was nothing to be done so you back to your quarters to back a few things before you got in your personal ship to fly down to Coruscant. When you finished packing your essentials, you made you way to the hangar. The 501st was gathered in the hangar discussing their plans for leave together.

"General!" Fives called, motioning you over to the group, earning him an elbow to the side from Echo.  Though you were their general, you tired to avoid situations involving Echo at all costs. You let out a soft sigh and walked over to them.

"What's up?" you asked, putting yourself in between Rex and Fives to limit eye contact, or contact at all with Echo. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Kix shot a look at Echo before addressing you, "Would you like to go to 79's with us tonight?"

"Oh, I'm not much fo a drinker," you quickly responded, oblivious to what the boys have planned.

"There's food there, it's not just drinking," Kix reassured you, making sure he was a being a good wingman for his brother.

You shrugged, "I guess I'll meet you there at 2100."

Kix winked at Echo as you turned away, going unnoticed by you. The fact that you agreed to go to that place disgusted you, and you have no idea why you said yes. You hopped in your ship as you regretted your decision and flew off the cruiser, setting a course for Coruscant.

*******

You slowly walked up the stairs of the Jedi Temple, and stared at it in its glory. It was the closest thing to home you had. Jedi were never supposed to keep possessions, but the few you did have were hours here, where it would be safe. As soon as you entered your quarters, you dropped your backpack to the ground and laid on your bed, wrapping you up in a cozy blanket. You were home. Meeting the boy's at 79's was still a few hours away so you decided to take the time to meditate your feelings away.

You were in love with Echo.

Through the force, you tried to channel your feelings elsewhere. You were attached. You were knifing attached. Since the moment you were a youngling, the one thing that was drilled into your head was that attachment is forbidden.

"Great. I commit Jedi sin, number one," you groaned, getting up off the ground and opening your closet. Your outfit options were limited but you chose a royal blue tube top with ribbons that flowed down your arms with ripped black jeans. There was a new pair of black combat boots in your closet so you went with those as well. After putting on your outfit you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. Something wasn't right, and you HAD to look perfect since Echo would be there. You played around with your hair and makeup until you felt satisfied with how you looked. To finish it off, you clipped your lightsaber to you waist.

To be honest, you weren't even sure if Jedi were allowed to go to 79's but that didn't stop you.  The temple was quiet, which allowed you to leave undetected. Trying to find the 501st would be near impossible without comming one of them so you figured you would just meet them at 79's. It wasn't too long of a speeder trip away.

Once there, you parked your speeder and approached the entrance. Kix was standing outside the entrance waiting for you.

"General!" he called, motioning you over.

You laughed, "Kix, we are off duty. Call me (Y/N)!"

"It's just so natural to call you General," he smiled, "but let's get inside, everyone's waiting!"

You and Kix walked inside and over to the table where the 501st was sitting. The seat saved for you was next to Echo. Great, you thought to yourself, taking the seat next to him.

"Hey boys!" you smiled.

They all greeted you then continued their conversations and ordered drinks. While you were talking to Rex, Fives kicked Echo under the table and cleared his throat.

"Gen-(Y/N)," Echo corrected himself.

You turned your head to look at him, "What's up Echo?"

"Uh-I," he stuttered, "You look wonderful."

You froze inside. There is no WAY he just said that. The longer you waited to reply, the more anxious Echo got about the situation, thinking he blew it.

"You as well," you nodded, taking a sip of your drink.

The night went on and before you knew it, half of the 501st couldn't stand up. Kix groaned and rested his head on the table, knowing he would have to deal with all their complaints tomorrow morning. You kept yourself composed, only having a few drinks. Echo on the other hand, not so much. It didn't take long for the drinks to make him lose his nervousness around you. You didn't mind him leeching onto you, but you wished he was actually in his right mind.

"Echo, let's bring you home," you suggested, his arm tightening around your shoulder.

"But this is fun!" he whined, trying to grab another drink.

You took it out of his hand and replaced it with water, "Let's leave, Echo."

He finally agreed with you. You let Kix know he was taking him back before leaving.

"You're pretty," he slurred as you strapped him into the speeder.

Sober Echo saying this would make your heart jump, but maybe the drinks were just making him say things he was afraid to say. Once he was strapped in, you started the speeder. Without thinking, you started to ride towards the Temple.

Should I bring him here or should I drive around to find his barracks. Should I let him stay with me?

You decided on bringing him to the temple. When you parked at the Temple, you helped a semi-conscious Echo out of the back of the speeder.

"You're going to have to be quiet," you told him, throwing his arm over you. Carefully, you brought him up to your room and sat him on your bed. You got him a cup of water and gave him a fever killer pill, "This will help you tomorrow, I promise."

He took it with ease then made a funky look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I can't sleep like this," he slurred, taking his armor off. You watched him strip from his armor, exposing his toned body in his tight blacks. You turned to your closet, biting your lip and grabbed some oversized sweatpants. There is no way he is doing this in front of me. A loud thud made you quickly turn around, seeing Echo now sitting on the floor.

"Let's get you back up," you laughed, sitting him on the bed. You handed him the sweats, "I'm sure you don't want to sleep in those dirty blacks, they may be a bit short on you but these may do."

He smiled as he took them, cupping his hand around your cheek, "Thank you, mesh'la."

You only knew a few words in Mando'a and that wasn't one of them, but you assumed it wasn't anything terrible. He started to take his blacks off and as bad as you wanted to watch, you turned away to give privacy. As soon as you turned, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Echo," you laughed, "finish changing."

He made a pout face, "Can you please help me."

He sounded like a child.

You got up and put your hands on his back, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down slowly. All you could ever ask for is a moment this intimate with Echo. Kriff, he was the love of your life, and he didn't even know. As you pulled down his zipper, you noticed the small scars. His battle scars. It took all of your impulse control to not kiss them to try to take the trauma away.

"You're a handsome man, Echo," you let slip, immediately regretting it. You quickly unzipped the rest of his top blacks and got up, praying he didn't hear that. Echo didn't acknowledge it, he just continued to undress, putting your sweatpants on. They weren't a perfect fit, but they worked.

Echo instantly fell asleep the second he put them on. Before you fell asleep, you poured him another glass of water and put it on the night stand.

"Goodnight Echo," you whispered, falling asleep on the floor.

*********

You woke up the next morning to a coughing Echo.

"Are you okay?!" you asked, shooting up from you sleep.

He rubbed his eyes, "Yeah, just have a headache."

You laughed, "Yeah, I can imagine!"

"Thank you for watching me," he smiled, making your heart melt. It was at this moment you realized, he spent the night in YOUR quarters and now he was sober. All your nervousness around him quickly came back.

You turned red and looked away, "It was my pleasure. But unfortunately I have some Jedi things to attend soon." This was a lie, but you were just too worried you would say something stupid in front of him if he stayed much longer.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," he sighed, "but again, thank you so much for taking care of me."

You gave him a soft smile and turned around as he changed back into his armor. When he was done gearing up, you turned again to face him, awe striking your face. Something about his ARC armor always made you internally swoon.

"See you later, (Y/N)!" he said as he walked towards your door. You followed him to the door and stood in the door frame as he exited.

Before he walked away he cupped his hand on your cheek and crashed his lips into yours. You couldn't even being to describe the shock, but it all felt so right. It wasn't a long kiss, but the passion felt as if it was building up forever, on both sides.

"Oh Kriff I just kissed my General!"

"Oh Kriff I just kissed my ARC!"

You both gasped simultaneously, followed by a speechless look.

"I am so sorry," Echo exclaimed, "I don't know what I was-"

"No no," you cut him off, "I'm sorry it was me who did it."

"So you wanted to kiss me?" he questioned.

You opened your mouth to respond and then closed it, then opened again, but you couldn't get any words out.

"I think we may feel the same way about each other," he whispered, biting his lower lip softly.

"What makes you think that?"

"Someone said, you're a handsome man Echo, last night. And quite honestly I think you're a gorgeous girl."

You stood there speechless yet again.

Echo shrugged his shoulders, "But you have 'Jedi Stuff' to attend so I best be going now."

"Wait!" you stopped him, "Can we do that again?"

"Kiss?"

"Yeah," you smiled, grabbing both his hands and pulling him back into your room.

"I'd like that," he laughed, kissing your nose.

[damn-stark]

The day off ~ Kylo Ren imagine

Kylo Ren x reader

Requested by @dazzlemetender​ ~ “do you think you could do one where the reader knew Kylo before he left for the dark side and things were left on kind of a bad note as they had a confrontation. Later on, she joins the resistance and she is in a band. When Leia decides to have a work party for everyone, she manages to get Kylo to come by telling him the reader was going to be there. When he shows up, he asks for her when he couldn’t find her. When she provides entertainment with her band and Leia was waiting with everyone in front row as he asked for her. When her band comes on, they perform the song, “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid “ by The Offspring and in the end, they reunite and it’s a happy reunion.”

Warning- nothing but pure fluff.

———

“Y/N.”

Slowly you begin to open your eyes, your eyesight taking time to adjust to the dark figure in front of you.

The voice silently calls out again, “Y/N.”

This time you sit up in your bed and finally recognize the man in front of you, “Ben?”

Said man only moves around your room, grabbing items and stuffing them in a bag before he comes back around and tosses you clothes to put on.

“What’s going on Ben?” You ask groggily. Ben hesitates, beginning to work on packing again and ignoring your question until you ask again, “Ben, what’s going on?”

“Don’t,” he pauses momentarily, “it’s Kylo now.”

Your face twists at his words, your lips part to question him but instead decide it’s best to leave that as it was and repeat your unanswered question, “what’s going on?”

“We’re leaving, joining the First Order.” He answers quickly and without meeting your narrowed gaze.

“No, we-I’m not joining them. Are you playing with me?”

Ben or Kylo, whatever he said he was now, sits down on the bed next to you, taking your hand and cupping your cheek. “Leave with me, we’ll be together there. We’ll be happy—”

“Happy?” You interrupt, knowing now that he was being serious with his proposal, “happy with murderers? That do nothing but bring darkness to this galaxy? We will not be happy and I am not going to join you.”

Slowly he pulls his hands away and drops them to his side, an unreadable look expression on his face. He swallows thickly his eyes flickering down before he blinks up to meet your gaze once more; “I’ll ask again, join me. Do it for me. Do it for the love we have for each other.”

“No.” You repeat coldly, “you can stay Ben, you don’t have to join them. Stay here with me.”

He exhales deeply before he stands up once again, “so be it. Stay here and live your life, I won’t be part of it.”

Instead of crying or being upset for his sudden choice, you grow angry. He chose to leave. Did you not mean anything to him like he said you did? Was the love you felt for each other fake? You still loved him, but the path he was following could never be you.

“Leave then,” you say coldly, “see if I care, I won’t stop you. But just so you know, to me you’ll be like them, nothing.”

He stops and gasps quietly, instead of expressing his hurt he balls his hands firmly at his sides and decides to leave with nothing more to say. Leaving you behind and with regret you wouldn’t express, and would never be able to do so.

—

(Years later)

“Nothing would making me happier than performing for your party, General Organa.” You beamed as you held onto her hands.

General Organa smiled and cupped your cheek, “How many times do I have tell you that their is no need for formalities. We’ve known each other for a long time now, ever since you and Ben were together.”

Your smile faltered but you didn’t let her comment about her son bring you down completely, “seemed like a lifetime ago. Anyhow using formalities is just what I’ve grown used to, so forgive me gen—Leia.”

She hummed softly showing the same smile before letting your hands go, “well I better let you get to it. And once again happy birthday y/n.”

“Thank you.” Finally you head back into base to inform your band of what you’re going to play for tonight’s work party, in doing that going unaware of the dark figure that came out of the thick jungle of D’Qar. Kylo Ren, dressed in a black cloak and black scarf to hid his features from curious eyes.

“You just missed her.” Leia informed Kylo all nonchalant, like if seeing her son at the rebel base was just a daily occurrence.

Kylo nodded and kept his gaze on your retreating figure, “that’s the point. I came to see her that’s all.” He sighed.

“I thought you had your fathers charm.” Leia teased. “Talk to her, Ben, not just because it’s her birthday but because she misses you. Like you miss her.”

Kylo’s head dropped as he let out a disappointed sigh, “she hates me.”

Leia cupped her sons cheek and smiled sweetly, “trust me she doesn’t hate you. It’s hard to hate a person you love.”

Kylo stood silent and looked to the ground in deep thought. Debating to himself if he should leave now, without seeing you and without saying a word, or leave later and at least admire you from afar.

“Now that you’re here Ben, you should come to the work party. Nobody knows it’s going to be you, so come.” Leia offered with a hidden smirk, “y/n’s going to be there.”

Kylo shook his head with a hidden smile, “I’ll think about it.”

—

The lights in the very crowded base flashed on and off before somebody walked to the mic, “ten more minutes, rebel scum!” The man soon disappeared back behind stage, leaving Kylo confused on his reference to his comrades. An inside joke? Most likely. Anyhow Kylo ignored the people around and searched the room for only one person that interested him, you.

His mother said you were going to be here, she wouldn’t lie...well to get him to stay longer than maybe she would, but his mother loved to see you and him together, so lying about you being here would be a stretch.

And still he kept desperately searching to at least catch a glimpse of you, only to find his mother at the front row with other resistance members. So quickly he walked towards her, pushing past people who protested against his harsh actions—not that he cared though, he only cared to make it next to his mother and you, who he had yet to see.

“You said she was going to be here.” Kylo reminded his mother as he stood by her side.

General Organa looked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled, “she is here, she’s going to be on in....now.” And on cue the lights went off, the lights from the make shift stage turning on before curtains flew open and revealed a band. At first Kylo couldn’t identify the faces...well how could he? He barely knew anyone here. So in that case he was planning to turn around to leave and keep searching for you, all until you dramatically rose up from under the stage with a huge grin on your face.

You didn’t notice Kylo at first, but it was going to be hard to miss such a tall person at the front row. Actually he was fine with you not noticing him, he wanted you to have fun without having to be in a bad mood because you had spotted him, and it went like that for a while, him going unnoticed. The beat of the song started playing first, and seconds later you joined in singing a familiar song. One Kylo knew, one you both knew from a band you both loved, ‘The Offspring.’ And the song you performed couldn’t be more perfect, ‘You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid.’

And if on cue, like if you had done it on purpose you noticed, Kylo at the same time you sang— “And no one even knew it was only really you.” Kylo could’ve sworn he had seen your eyes give off a pretty sparkle and a smile to match, but that was mostly likely just wishful thinking on his part. You hated him and made it clear that he was nothing to you if he left, he had hoped for several years that what you said was lie, but he never knew, he never got close enough to ask, not until today.

—

“I’ll see you later, Dameron.” You waved off the pilot and he only turned around with a grin.

“Bet your ass I’ll see you later, I’ve got a one on one to win, L/N!”

“It’s my birthday! I thought you would give me a win!” You chuckled.

Poe shook his head, “nah sweetheart, I don’t care, I’m winning that race. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” He shot you a wink before he disappeared off stage and into the crowd. You only rolled your eyes and focused back on cleaning the stage, suddenly stopping as you heard approaching footsteps creeping forward.

At first you thought it was Poe who had forgotten his guitar back stage, but once the figure appeared and showed who he really was you froze, your lips parting in surprise and your eyes widening. You kept trying to say something, at least one word but no words would come out, just a silent gasp. You didn’t even know if you wanted to believe that it was really..Ben solo..or well Kylo Ren, but their was no mistaking that was him. He hadn’t changed all that much since you saw him last, he still had the same dark long hair and same big pretty brown eyes that you had once loved—that you still loved.

“Happy birthday, love.” Kylo quietly broke the silence, standing at careful distance, but approaching ever so slowly.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes flickering from him and to the ground nervously, unable to focus solely on him until he was inches away. “Ben.” You mouthed.

“You did great out there, I saw the whole thing. You’re great.” He complemented softly.

“Uh...thanks—thank you.” You stammered, still very much surprised by his appearance here.

He took a step forward while you unwillingly took one back, hurting him just a little, but something he wouldn’t show; “I just came to see you, uhh, but my mother convinced me to stay longer....but I’m leaving now.” Kylo quickly spun around and rushed out of the stage, but stopped as you called to him.

“Ben...wait.” You exhaled deeply, but continued speaking, “first of all thank you for coming, as creepy as it may seem that you were just planning to see me and not speak, but you’re here now, obviously, and,” you paused to briefly shut your eyes to really think of what you’ve wanted to say since he left. “..and I’m glad you came..” You look to him, his back still turned to you like the day he had left, when you had said words you never meant, “I-I never meant what I said before you know. I was angry that you were leaving...me. I loved you and I felt betrayed.”

“Loved?” Kylo interjected sadly.

Very slowly you made your way to stand in front of him, offering him a sweet smile, “love.” You corrected him, “I still love you. A lot.” You paused to let out a soft chuckle, “like the song said...it was only really you.”

Kylo smiled shyly at your words, carefully reaching to grab your hand in his to bring it up to his lips and press a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “I still love you too and I do want to be a part of your life.”

You grinned widely and stood on the tip of your toes to give him a sweet and long kiss, one he easily returned while he pressed you closer to him. Again you felt the way your heart fluttered whenever he was near, or when you two shared a kiss. You missed him and you let him know.

“I missed you..so much.” You revealed as you broke away far enough to cup his cheeks, “stay? With me, please.”

Kylo stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss on your lips before he whispered, “I’m not leaving you ever again.”

.

.

.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Crane Team: Part 3 - Sun Tattoo

In a conference room, ten chairs have been set up around a round mahogany table. The seven new clan chiefs, along with Nanami Sakurai and Yoko Uesugi, sat around it, facing each other and a screen that featured three high ranking former members of the Devil Clan who were teleconferencing in from behind bars.

Nanami Sakurai sat in a prim royal purple business suit, her hair up in a tight bun. Yoko sat next to her, her hair up in a high ponytail, covered from the neck down. When given the permission to speak, Yoko said, “The legal department has agreed to take up the cases for appeal. They’ve also agreed to weekly status updates on these. However, this will take significant staff away from regular duties.  I would like to request a budget for emergency staff members to handle follow up and logging of reports.”

“How many people are we talking about?” A heavy set man rumbled, completely unconcerned. His head was bald save two tufts of hair over his ears. He smoked from a long Japanese pipe. He was Minato Ryoma, a business mogul specializing in real estate. He was the late Clan Chief Genichiro’s cousin and had quickly inserted himself into the vacuum left by his death with very little fuss. 

“My primary objective is to reassure the defendants that Hydra will take their cases seriously. I will therefore hire 45 people. No more than 10 cases per employee.” Yoko replied. “Pay should be a sufficient living wage for Tokyo on its own so that they will not need secondary employment to focus on this task.”

Minato snorted roughly, his stomach bouncing under the table. “Preposterous. Our finances have barely recovered from this disaster and you want to throw away this much money for this project?”

“Our recovery is pointless if we are lax in pulling the Yakuza gangs together and another war break-...”

Sakurai silenced Yoko with a stern look. 

Yoko sat back against her chair. “My apologies.”

“I will make sure that we do a full review of our budget and accommodate as much as we can to the effort.” Sakurai Nanami spoke quietly and dutifully.

“Genji Heavy Industries is still a wreck. The contractor’s we hired are over priced due to the scarcity of workers and materials. We must build the house before we invite other tenants.” Ryoma grumbled.

The other clan chiefs seemed to agree, nodding to themselves. 

“Perhaps priority can be given to the breadwinners within the former Devil Clan so that some of the children currently in foster can be reunited with their rightful families.” The newest clan chief of the Inuyama clan, Inuyama Ren, was a surprisingly young man of 21 years old. His face was smooth and handsome and reminded Yoko a bit of Chance. He was Katsu Inuyama’s last remaining son. The rest had died in the fighting. Yoko couldn’t argue the practicality of his suggestion but he could certainly see objections in her eyes. “Does Ms. Uesugi have a response to this?”

“Yes… I do agree that this is a good suggestion. However, placement of Devil Clan children can’t all be with Devil clan members. Particularly if their actual families are alive. Parents should raise their children.” She said softly. “Furthermore, the youth of the Devil clan are the least responsible for their crimes and the more likely to suffer future effects. I believe the younger members should have a high priority as well.”

Minato huffed again, “Future…” He muttered.

Yoko’s nails squeezed her hands but the effect of such emotion dampening tactics was hampered due to her gloves. 

From the speakers of the computer, one of the Devil Clan representatives unmuted themselves. “It has been demonstrated that the increase in violence of the Devil Clan were the result of illicit drugs being produced to enhance the bloodline. Before these drugs, while there were violent and dangerous hybrids, the population of berserker hybrids was not nearly as high as after these drugs were produced. The Clan Chiefs of the Hydra could be excused for thinking all Devils are going to die young but that wasn’t always the case. Even the rules stated that Devils could be imprisoned for up to 40 years with hope of release.”

Minato huffed but didn’t dispute this.

“We will run an analysis through the accounting department. I can’t promise 45 employees but making sure each temporary hire is paid enough to focus fully on the work is wise.” Nanami nodded her head.

The meeting dragged on to discuss politics. The mass slaughter and outbreak of violence had alarmed non-hybrid officials. They were pushing through an anti-Yakuza bill and needed immediate reassurance that such shocking events weren’t going to recur. Yoko scarcely suppressed a yawn as she struggled to listen. Her Japanese was phenomenal for having studied for such a short time but the details and intricacies of parliament still escaped her.

Her cell phone buzzed at her side and she peered down.

The message: “The Fuma child was rejected this morning. He’s back at the orphanage.”

Her eyes widened. Why? It had taken ages to finally place that child with relatives after a thorough search. He had been marked, improperly, as violent. He’d understandably acted out after witnessing the death of his family. She had been reassured and thrilled that he would finally be placed with his own clan! Yoko looked up at Nanami Sakurai. “I’m sorry. There’s an emergency. Excuse me.”

Without asking permission, Yoko got up from the table, bowed to everyone and dialed the number to the group foster home.

The placement officer over the children’s group hostel answered right away. “Hello?”

“It’s Yoko. What happened? I thought we resolved all concerns?” Yoko stood outside the door and then walked a few more steps to further conceal her conversation from the conference room. Outside the room,  people were passing back and forth but most of them were on phones of their own. Half the corridor was blocked off with construction tape to repair an earthquake damaged wall, making things extra crowded.

“His bloodline isn’t the problem. The problem is he’s not Fuma.”

“Not Fuma? Then what is he? All his paperwork said Fuma!” She said, dodging passersby and trying to find a quiet spot.

“We don’t know. We don’t know why he would falsify his information…”

“There has to be a mistake. He’s eight years old. How can someone his age falsify information?” Yoko started walking towards the exit. “I need to talk to him. How is he?”

“Distraught but…”

“Of course he is…” Yoko broke into a jog. After the assassination attempt, she wasn’t allowed to leave the Genji building without an armed escort and armored car, but this was an emergency! “Excuse me, are you headed out?” She approached a couple of Executive Board members who pointedly ignored her. Even though she chose to believe they were already busy with their own tasks, most of the Hydra members still thought of her as Ruri Kazama’s woman and wouldn’t willingly help a former enemy.

“Look, I'll try to get there as soon as possible.” Yoko hung up and walked over to the information desk. “Hey I need to get a ride to the foster home. Is there anyone available?”

The woman behind the desk looked harried and brushed aside hair that had gone askew. “This is not a scheduled outing and currently there are no armored cars available…”

“When will the next one be back?”

“Probably not until four pm and that will depend on traffic.” She said with some regret. 

“No, this is too important. Can we recall one?”

Her eyes widened in outrage. “Recall one? And what are we supposed to do with the person who’s actually there on-site?”

“I’ll take her.” said an approaching voice.

The secretary’s eyes widened and she stood up.

Yoko turned her head and looked into a familiar face behind thin rimmed glasses. “Crow!”

She hadn’t seen the man since he dropped her off at Genji Heavy Industries after the Cassell Team departed. She thought he had retired. Crow was the last remaining man on Chisei Gen’s original team. Both Sakura and Yasha had died during the Dragon’s awakening. Sakura was killed by Ruri Kazama. Yasha died blowing up Kaguya’s core in Genji Heavy Industries. The man looked a bit thinner than she remembered and he looked like he had aged with dark circles under his eyes.

He stood there in his usual trench coat and colorful shirt. “Are you coming or not?”

“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully and followed him out. 

The sun was bright but there was a noticeable chill that heralded the onset of the fall season. Hydra members walking by were looking up at Crow in shock, doing a double take, just as surprised as she was to see him back.

Crow led her to a red sports car but didn’t hold open the door like a regular driver. He just stepped around to get in.

“Did you see everyone’s faces?” She laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Taking a long vacation.” He slid into the driver's seat. “Where are we going?”

“The foster home for the Devil Clan children. What made you come back? If anyone deserves retirement, it’s you.” She said, buckling her seat. 

Crow didn’t respond but pulled into traffic. His expression was stony and his eyes were grim.

Yoko’s smile gradually faded. “Did… something happen?”

“No, nothing happened. Old habits die hard.” He pulled up to a stop light and they waited for it to change. After a pause, he added. “I never got to thank you for saving Sakura that day. At Tokyo Tower.”

Yoko looked straight ahead. Sakura Yabuki had used herself as bait to trap dead slave monsters at the top of the Tokyo Tower. Once they were nearly on her, she threw herself off the tower and let them follow her down. Yoko knew there was a rope dangling from the tower, where Fingel had saved himself from falling only minutes before. She had grabbed Sakura and the rope and watched the dead slaves continue their descent to the ground, a full 8 second fall. 

Unfortunately, Sakura would die anyway.

“I just wish I could have done more.” Yoko murmured

“Believe me, we all do. Normally, I probably would have just committed harakiri after the young chief’s passing, but I got my old man to take care of. Meanwhile? Might as well come back here.” 

The light turned green.

“Do you really still hold to notions like that?” Yoko asked with a cautious glance. “I don’t think that’s what Chisei would have wanted.”

Crow’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. “Woah, you two were on a first name basis?”

“Ah… I…” Yoko stammered.

“Ha. I’m teasing. I know you’re not from around here.” He gave a vicious grin however.

Chisei and Yoko had an inevitable conflict. She was a member of the Cassell Team, a devil and in love with Ruri Kazama, the leader of the Devils. He’d hurt her deeply by killing a man named Chance who’d fallen in love with her and fought his hardest to stay alive. The killing was brutal.  She couldn’t like him. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel that, had circumstances been different, she and Chisei would have been friends. It was true that Yoko had always referred to Chisei by his first name and she couldn’t remember him ever objecting or correcting her. 

Crow had likely noticed that long before now.

The orphanage was actually a juvenile correction facility set back off the road by two layers of guarded cinder block walls, manned sniper towers and armed guards at the gates. Once inside, a large building that appeared to be something like a multistory hospital greated her with an imposing cliff-like presence. Were it not for the playground out back with its colorful slides and swings, you would have thought it was a military facility.

Crow walked in with her as she signed in but she stopped him from entering. “Dressed in that trenchcoat, you’ll frighten the kids. I’ll be right back.”

The only memories Devil Children would have of the enforcement department were invasive interviews that asked probing and embarrassing questions. One wrong answer and they would be sentenced to death or eternal imprisonment. While the caretakers were kind to them, fed them and let them sleep in comfortable beds, at the end of the day, they were locked behind vault doors that were secured by heavy chains. 

It reminded Yoko a lot of Black Swan Bay. Only these children weren’t controlled by a clapper sound.  The influx of orphans after the Hydra’s devastating purge had left the facility staggering and in dire need of funds and personnel. So placing these orphans with families was a top priority of Yoko’s work.

Thankfully, Sakurai, Inuyama and Miyamoto threw open their doors and opened their arms to the orphans. Fuma and Ryoma however had little room in their hearts for these children. Many of their clan members were orphaned at the Red Well when the massive influx of those strange white filaments swallowed up the Fuma Ninjas who had been stationed in the forest to guard the area. Fuma was extremely hurt by the fact that the Devil Clan leader, Kazama Ruri, viciously humiliated the Kotaro Fuma. But with some cajoling Yoko had finally been able to persuade them to take this one child… but he wasn’t even a Fuma child in the end.

She stopped in front of a door and pulled the file from the slot next to it. The name Tatsuya Fuma was crossed out and replaced with “Unknown”. She knocked twice and opened the door.

The boy who, up until now, had been named Tatsuya Fuma sat on a small bed. His room was neat, with a red rug and a shelf full of small toys that had been donated. Mostly toy cars and one toy gundam action figure. There was a TV but it was off. Tatsuya’s face was flushed and sticky from crying.

“Hey…” Yoko approached quietly until she was halfway across the room and then knelt down on the rug. “Hey… what happened?”

The boy hiccuped and sniffled, his knees gathered to his chest. He stared blankly at the wall.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault.”

The boy shook his head sharply, clearly and adamantly blaming himself.

Yoko knew better than to argue. “Then what did you do?”

He looked at her and shook his head. 

“Are you scared?” Yoko whispered.

The boy nodded. 

“Why?” She opened her arms and beckoned him over. “Here, come whisper in my ear.” Her frequent visits to this boy made her known and trusted. He knew how hard she’d worked to get him placed and they’d grown a bit close. Day after day, she’d visited with candy and toys and talked to him, reassuring him that she was on his side.

The boy got down from the bed and hugged Yoko around the neck. He didn’t know it, but Yoko always wore a wire on these visits. Sometimes when she was with them, the children would whisper to her the secrets of their trauma, bits and pieces that they’d seen and heard. Little by little, Yoko was building cases against certain cadres of the Executive Board.Given the overwhelming dominance of the Executive Board of Hydra, getting witness testimony directly was nearly impossible. No one would dare speak of the vicious attacks on them. Their killers were still alive and well.

Tatsuya hugged her so tightly around her neck she nearly gagged. He was warm and trembled like a puppy. His arms were thin but his grip was strong, like iron. She could feel every bone through his cotton shirt.

“Tatsuya died. They shot him in the wall.” He whispered, then he sniffed loudly.

“Who did?”

“The people with the sun tattoo.”

“So you took his name?”

“Yeah...they were trying to kill me. So I can’t use my name. They thought Tatsuya was me. So I am Tatsuya now.”

Tatusya was a real child, not a falsified identity! This boy had taken the dead child’s name to hide from people who were looking for him. She'd sent the wrong child to the wrong family! That family had to find out on the day their son returned to them, that their son was actually dead. Yoko’s heart felt like it fell into her stomach.

“Okay honey… okay.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Don’t tell anyone what you told me. Okay? I’ll find somewhere for you to be safe. Can you whisper to me your name?”

“Mitsue Ryoma…”

Ryoma. No wonder he never admitted who he was. Ryoma hadn’t adopted a single child since the purge. Yoko always had a bad feeling about them. Their Clan Chief’s dismissal of her proposal this morning was just one of many. They’d opposed unification at every opportunity. She couldn’t place this child with them. “You’re very smart. Okay. You can keep calling yourself Tatsuya.”

Crow had walked outside to smoke while Yoko was in the facility with the kids. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and imagined the young chief’s arm around him, shoving the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it in a sudden show of uncharacteristic affection. It was a cherished memory that came back to haunt him every once in a while.

Even though the Young Chief never talked about that girl who now called herself Yoko Uesugi, he could tell she was never far from his mind. Especially after she rescued Sakura Yabuki. Crow would notice the Young Chief staring at his reflection in his sword. Sakura returned that sword to him and told him that Yoko had saved her life. It was odd behavior and for a long time Crow’d wondered why he would stare at his reflection like that.

The door behind him opened and the girl walked out, head down, hands in pockets. “Let’s go.” She grumbled and jogged down to the sports car and stood next to it, waiting for him to unlock it.

Her sudden change in demeanor surprised him. “Did things not go well?”

She didn’t answer him. She just kept her eyes down.

Once they were in the car, she pointed to the cigarette lighter in the dashboard. “Does that work?”

“Yeah. You want one of mine?” He reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Yoko, however, removed one of her gloves, revealing the clear scales on her hand, and pulled the cigarette lighter. She took the glowing red-hot cigarette lighter and pressed it to her own skin!

“What are you doing?” Crow shouted. He reached out and snatched the lighter from her, but the damage was done. That white skin was blackened and turning red at the edges. 

Yoko cradled her hand to herself.

“It’s fine… it’s fine.” She whispered but she was cringing in pain. “Look.” She held out her hand to him. The burn was already starting to fade, rapidly healing thanks to her elevated blood.

“Don’t do that again! What’s wrong with you?” Crow shoved the lighter back into the dashboard.

Yoko didn’t answer. She just turned her head back to the entrance of the orphanage. 

Crow massaged his forehead wearily. “What happened there?”

“I can’t tell you.” She ran her hands over her face and massaged her eyes.

“Why not?” He asked, looking down at her from his glasses.

She looked him up and down silently. “Do you have a sun tattoo?”

“I got lots of tattoos… sun’s not one of them.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”  Quiet anger boiled beneath those dark eyes.

“Why are you asking?”

She let out a loud sigh and turned back to the window.

Crow sat back, resting his arm on the steering wheel. “Anywhere else you need to go?”

Yoko squeezed the fingers on her burned hand. “Can we go to the track?”

[visforvengeance]

Exit music (for a film)

Ｂｉｌｌｙ Ｈａｒｇｒｏｖｅ

Requested by: no one ;)

Notes: hello. here is something i’ve been working on since s3. it was originally called we hope that you choke. but i changed it literally 3 minutes ago. it’s going to be in chapters bc i couldn’t figure out how to write everything without making it an 8,000 word fic😬. the upside down doesn’t exist in this. el doesn’t have powers. ahem hopper and billie don’t die. i thought this song would fit perfectly with billy considering his dad is pretty shit. i’m procrastinating on wdywmts. i’m so sorry. i have a justin foley fic. do y’all want that shit?

Warnings: none in this chapter. i mean cursing? and vulgar language. steve being a dick. billy is maybe out of character. slight mentions of death and daddy issues.

word count: 2,072

Y/n’s POV

“Have you seen the new kid? He’s so hot! Ugh! Look at that hair!” My friend, Genesis, gushed as he walked by. He was hot, but he looked like trouble. And it was annoying how every girl swooned over him. Looks like Steve Harrington has some competition this year. “Gen, don’t you have a boyfriend?” I questioned. She rolled her green eyes and scoffed. “Alex and I are on a break, thank you very much.” I laughed at her faux annoyance.

I closed my locker door and leaned against it. “He isn’t even that hot. He’s already flirting with girls and it’s literally his first day.” Genesis hit my arm. “Can you blame him? Look at him. God, his chest is so mint! I’d give anything to get a piece of that.” I shook my head at how much my friend was thirsting over him. “Jesus, Gen. Can you keep it in your pants? You don’t even know his name.” She smirked and looked at me. “Billy Hargrove.” God, even his name sounded like he’d be a womanizer.

“I’m not even going to ask how you know that. And keep your dirty comments to yourself, Genesis.” The red-haired girl slammed her locker shut. And we began walking to first period. “Oh, don’t be such a prude, Y/N! Ever since you broke up with Steve, you’ve been a complete betty!” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “No, I haven’t! I just don’t care for boys anymore. They’re stupid and gross.”

“Yeah, since you got your heart broken. Come on! It’s time to show him what he’s missing. Have you seen your body recently? Boys have been tripping over their feet staring at you. You just won’t give them the time of day.” Blah blah blah. She just had to bring up repressed memories of a certain tragedy.

Steve had called me over to attend the end of the year party he was having. His parents weren’t home, so he had a shit ton of alcohol for everyone. When I entered the door, I was greeted by loud music and drunken teens. I wove my way through the crowd and stood by Steve. He’d noticed me and pecked my cheek, “Hey, babe. You made it.” He sounded surprised. “I mean, yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?” He was a little drunk, so he tripped over his words a bit.

“U-usually you never come. Too busy doing your homework or whatever excuse you tell me.” Tommy H. appeared and forced his way into the conversation. “Nah, she’s too busy being a prude. Are you a virgin, Y/N? Steve usually tells me about all the girls he’s fucked, but you? He’s never even mentioned.” Before I had a chance to defend myself, Carol butted in.

“No way she’s a virgin. I heard she had a thing going on with that creep, Johnathan Byers. How’d you take it, Y/N? In the ass? Or did he pop your sweet cherry?” Steve laughed as Tommy and Carol taunted me. I scoffed. “None of your business, dipshits. And seriously, Steve? I’ve been to every one of your stupid parties. You just choose to ignore me. Like you do in school, you cast me aside. Am I not popular enough for you? Is that it? Or are you too busy ogling Nancy Wheeler?” His face scrunched in confusion. “Woah, woah, woah. Are you okay? You’re going a bit psycho. It’s not my fault no one likes you.” I scoffed at Steve’s drunken words. Of course, he’d say something like this.

The next day, Steve found out about what he had said. He tried to explain why he said what he said, but never said he was sorry and that it wasn’t true. I broke it off with him.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. “I’d rather not. And what makes you think he’d go for me anyway? I don’t seem like his type.” Genesis filled the halls with laughter. “He’s been staring at you since he walked into the classroom. And not to mention, he’s coming over to you now!” What? I turned to his direction and followed until he was standing next to the desk beside me.

“Is this seat taken?” I think I underestimated his attractiveness. He was insanely hot. “U-uh no.” I stuttered out an answer. He nodded and smirked. It was science class and my partner had moved to another state. You know what that means? He’ll most likely be my partner. I don’t think I'm stable enough to handle this.

The next 60 minutes were filled with uninterested and forced conversations about physics and whether I was single or not. Thank god for the bell. Before Billy could say another thing, I rushed out of the classroom and stood by my locker, waiting for Genesis. She looked annoyed as she approached me. “Why the hell did you run off? He was obviously into you.”

I rolled my eyes as she lectured me about the blue-eyed boy’s interest in me. “I don’t want to be the first of girls who he has fucked over. I’ve had enough of that with Steve.” She frowned at my tragic outburst. “You never know! He might be different. Looks CAN be deceiving, Y/N. You have to give him a chance. It’s my dying wish!” Genesis dramatically placed her hands on her heart and head. When I deadpanned, she straightened her posture. “Come on. You don’t even have to go all the way. Just be nice to him.”

I sighed an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Fine! I’ll be nice to him. But as soon as he shows signs that he’s up to no good, I am dropping it.” Genesis excitedly jumped up and down, trapping me in a hug. “Yes! That’s all I’m asking. I just know you won’t regret it.” She declared as she wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Billy had shown up in my next class, and also decided to take a seat next to me. Causing a student to angrily walk to the back of the class, while she shot daggers at me as we talked. He looked at me and smiled. While the teacher taught, he started talking to me. “Hey.” Remembering what Genesis said, I turned and smiled at him. “Hi.” His eyes displayed shock, but his body remained cool. “So, you’re talking to me now?” I laughed and nodded. “I’m glad I didn’t give up on you, then.” “Hm, I’m glad too.”

We talked for majority of second period. He was quite interesting and he had a gorgeous smile. I learned that he came from California and had a sister. He made it his job to walk me to my locker and carry on the conversation we had for three periods now. As we were walking, Genesis’ ginger curls came into view as did my locker. She saw us and her eyes went wide with surprise.

I introduced the two people as I opened my locker. “Billy, this is my best friend, Genesis. Genesis, this is my new friend, Billy.” He turned to Gen and greeted her by taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you, Genesis.” My friend was astonished, as she bowed. “The pleasure is all mine.” I rolled my eyes in annoyment as Genesis continued to be dramatic.

It was now time for lunch and Billy joined us at our table. While we walked, I felt Steve’s eyes on us. Jealousy painted the features that I once adored. I returned my attention back to the two people who were happily chatting about god knows what. “So, Billy. Are you dating anyone?’ Genesis stated as she nudged my knee with her own. I nearly choked at the question as I looked at her. Thank god he didn’t notice my slight panic and carried on with his answer.

“No, not at the moment.” He chuckled at the question. “Interesting. Neither is Y/N.” I felt hot all over as Genesis exposed my relationship status to a person I barely knew. Now, Billy was full-on laughing while I sat in complete embarrassment. “Yes, and it’ll stay that way until further notice,” I said while I kicked the girl’s knee. She winced in pain and decided to back down, for now. Billy’s face faltered in disappointment. But he quickly replaced it with amusement.

“What a bummer, then.” He smiles almost sadly. “Yes. A complete bummer. I’ve been trying to get her to come out of her shell, but Steve really fucked it up for her.” Genesis said, angrily. He pulled a confused look. “Steve Harrington?” He asked. Genesis and I exchanged a look. “Yeah, you know him?” He nodded while taking a sip of his chocolate milk.

“He’s in my gym class. Real asshat, that guy. What happened between you two?” He asked, curiously. Genesis looked at me, expectantly. I sighed and rolled my eyes. “He was just a dick. He always placed his popularity and shithead friends above me.” Billy shook his head in disbelief and slight anger. “He didn’t deserve you.” Genesis perked up at that. “I’ve been saying that for centuries.” I zoned out as they both shared a common ground on how I deserved better.

Lunch was over and we had to go to fourth period. Genesis and I had gym, so Billy didn’t tag along with us. “So, he seems like absolute boyfriend material.” I shook my head. “You’re really pushing for us to date, huh?” Genesis turned to me after stretching her legs. “Uh, yes? You guys would make the perfect couple. He gives me bad boy/protective boyfriend vibes. Potential daddy issues with unconditional love for his girlfriend? Ah-mazing!”

He seemed really sweet and he was definitely the cutest. His hair seems so soft, and don’t even get me started on his smile. It makes hearts generate above my head! And his body, dear god. It seems so perfect. I’d give anything to feel his abs against my-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Genesis nearly screamed at me. “What? No, I’m not.” She squinted at me, not believing a word I said. ‘Date. Him.’ She mouthed at me. I shook my head and turned to pay attention to my teacher’s directions.

The school day was over and I was so relieved. Gen’s dad picked her up early, so I was alone for the rest of class. I was putting my things in my locker when Billy approached me. “Did you miss me?” He asked, jokingly. I laughed and closed my locker. “I just about died without you.” I said as I placed my hand on my chest, dramatically. A slight blush creeped up on his cheeks.

He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Are you doing anything after school?” He asked. I thought about it for a second and shook my head. “Nope. I planned I’m going straight home. Why?” He held the door open for me as we walked outside. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hangout?”

I giggled at his uncertainty. “Yeah, i'd like that. We could probably go to the park? And just sit in your car and talk.” He seemed so happy that I agreed. “Ok. Sounds like a plan.”

We arrived at the park and he turned his car off. I turned so I was facing him. “So. Tell me about yourself. How old is your sister?” “She’s actually my stepsister. But she’s 14. My mom died when I was 8.” I grabbed his hand and apologized. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been hard to deal with.” He looked at our hands and then up at me. I released his hand and placed mine back in my lap. “It was. My dad...he’s really shitty.” Daddy issues? Wow, is my best friend God?

“Sounds fucked up. I’m sorry, again. Do you miss California?” He nodded. “A lot. But I think I’ll like it better here.” He smirked. My eyes went wide for a second and then back to normal. This boy is going to kill me.

“You know. You’re actually not so bad. I think I might take a chance on you.” He leaned back in his seat. “God, I sure hope so. You seem like a doll.” I laughed at his confidence. “Thanks, I guess.”

[beardedniall]

Chasing

Author’s note: I’m sure I’m not the only one writing about this scenario but I had to have my go at it. This is based on Nice To Meet Ya and everything Niall has said about it so far. Club hopping, finding and losing each other at each one, the saucy stuff eventually. Big thanks to @undertheniall for basically outlining the whole plot with me. Love you!!

Words: 5k (rip)

Warnings: NSFW, drinking, a bad pick up line, unsafe sex

-

“Four Gin Tonics, please”, Alicia shouted at the barkeeper while she held up four fingers so he would definitely understand what she wanted.

Your eyes roamed through the club. It was well patronised but not too full. While you were looking for the spot where the other half of your group of friends was waiting for you and the drinks, you felt something on your arm. 

“Careful there.”

The voice came from behind you and the person who it belonged to had grabbed your elbow to stop it from knocking over a bottle on the bar. You turned around only to be met with a set of stunning blue eyes and a charming grin.

“Oh uh, thank you”, you laughed nervously, “I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.”

“I’m Niall.”

He let go of your arm and offered you his hand to shake it.

“Y/N.”

“Mind if I’d get ya a drink?”

You hesitated for a second. Alicia already ordered for you and you didn’t want to leave her alone with four Gin Tonics to carry. But you also didn’t want to reject his offer. Before you knew it, a “Yeah, sure” left your lips with a smile on your face. Alicia would understand.

“What do you drink, love?”

“Gin Tonic?”

“Gotcha.”

While Niall was distracted with getting the barkeeper’s attention, you quickly turned around to your best friend who was already trying to get all the glasses in her hands.

“It’s alright Y/N, I can see you’re occupied”, she giggled, “He’s really fucking handsome.”

“I know right? You’re the best, thank you.”

She gave you a big grin and accepted the smooch you placed on her cheek before she made her way through the crowd with the bunch of drinks between her hands. You gave your attention back to Niall who was now ordering and handing a bill to the barkeeper.

“Thank you”, you said to him a few moments later when he handed you your glass and clicked it with his beer bottle

“Wanna get to a corner that’s more quiet?”

He leaned in closer than necessary to ask you that question. The music was loud and it was quite packed around you but you could understand each other rather well face to face. Still, his breath hitting your neck sent a flash down your spine. All you could do was nod as an answer before you wrapped your free hand around his biceps and followed him to an empty space next to the bar.

“Are you here alone?”, you wanted to know, half expecting him to say yes because the way he approached you practically screamed that he was only here to take someone home with him eventually.

“Nah, I’m with some friends. Actually, I should be getting them their beers but I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Oh? So you’re the unreliable friend of the group?”

“I got my priorities straight.”

A light blush started to grace your cheeks. You usually weren’t one to be easily impressed by a random dude trying to pick you up at a club but the tone in Niall’s voice sounded so genuinely charming to you that you secretly hoped that you were on the same page here about were this was supposed to lead to. The more you had of your drink, the more intense the flirting between the two of you got. Until something rather inconvenient messed with you.

"Sorry, I gotta use the bathroom real quick. Be right back", you excused yourself while placing your hand on his chest and brushing your fingertips over his torso as you walked away. After you had reached the women’s toilet and taken your place in the line, someone bumped into you and clutched at you, almost dragging you down as they stumbled further into the room.

“Y/N shit I gotta-”

The next thing you heard was your friend Jen throwing up into one of the sinks for the lack of a free bathroom stall. While the women and girls around you gave her a disgusted look, you made a big step towards her and put your hands on her waist to help her stand.

“Oh God Jo, what’s wrong? How did you get drunk so quickly?”

After she had rinsed her mouth with water, she supported herself on the edge of the sink and took a few deep breaths.

“I’m not drunk. I didn’t have a lot to eat today. And to be fair, someone had to drink your Gin Tonic.”

“And that had to be you with an empty stomach?”

She only shrugged her shoulders and gave you a halfhearted smirk.

“Should we call Andrew so he can pick you up?”

“Yeah, that’s for the better I guess. I’m not much use like this.”

“I got you. Stay here and drink some water, yeah? I’ll call him.”

When Jen’s boyfriend was informed and on his way to the club, you brought her outside to be with her until he arrived. While you stood there and listened to the bass roaring through the party inside, you checked the time on your phone, thinking of Niall waiting for you. You hoped that he was a patient one and would still be there when you got back inside. 

In the meantime, Niall was having a look at his watch for what must have been the tenth time in the past two minutes. He was sure the queue to the ladies’ bathroom was long but it had been almost fifteen minutes now and by how hastily you had interrupted your conversation and left, he started to think that maybe you wouldn’t come back at all. A hand on his shoulder ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Hey man, the fuck are you doing here? We’ve been waiting for our beer for ages now”, Willie slurred into his ear.

“Looks like you got it from somewhere though.”

“Yeah but like… I was worried you died on the way to the bar or something.”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m fine. Waiting for a girl I met at the bar actually.”

“Oh? So you got yourself some already, huh? Well don’t let her make ya wait for too long. We’re ‘bout to head to the next club if ya wanna join.” 

“Alright, see ya there in a bit if she doesn’t show up anytime soon.”

Andrew kept his promise of coming as fast as he could because only a few minutes later, he picked up his girlfriend and thanked you for taking care of her.

“Yes, thank you Y/N,” Jen whined before getting into the car.

“Anytime. Let me know when you’re home.”

As soon as they left, you made your way back inside the club and to the other end of the bar where you were hoping Niall was still waiting for you. Luck wasn’t on your side as you looked around from the spot were you had last seen him. You even made quick side trip to the men’s bathroom to see if he was waiting in line there but after not getting lucky there either, you joined your group of friends who were just about to leave as it seemed.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me handsome guy was a disappointment”, Alicia asked you with pitiful tone in her voice.

“He wasn’t at all”, you sighed and then explained to her what had happened.

“But you collected karma points with this one. C’mon we’re going to the next one. You’ll get distracted there.”

The club across the street was so packed that you were wondering why they still let people in. Thankfully, one of your friends knew the owner so after you had squeezed yourselves through the crowd and to a separated area - you could call it VIP but the people in there usually weren’t that important -, it only took her a few minutes of discussing with the security guy until he opened the cordon for you. While Alicia was looking for an empty booth for you to sit, you scanned the area for familiar faces. And unfortunately, you made a find. Niall was leaning against the backrest of one of the couches while talking to a beautiful tall blonde. When he caught a glimpse at you, he stopped for a second before looking away again.

“Hey c’mere, there’s a group leaving”, Alicia shouted while tugging at your arm to make you move to the other end of the area, “What’s wrong?”

You nodded in the general direction of Niall and waited until your best friend caught up on what was going on.

“Oh fuck. Maybe that’s his cousin? And he’d be happy if you said hello again?”

“Yeah sure”, you playfully rolled your eyes and followed her lead to the booth.

What you didn’t notice was the piercing glance that lied on your back from a certain handsome guy from across the room.

An hour later, Alicia was yet again tugging at your arm. This time to let you know that she was tired of all the pretentious people that had nothing better to talk about than which Rolex their daddy was going to buy them next.

“Can we please go somewhere else?”

“Gladly”, you stated. 

You hadn’t seen Niall with the blonde woman again but ever since that encounter, you hadn’t been in the mood for partying so you were hoping a new location would change that. Alicia and you left the rest of the group behind. They wanted to stay and you knew they didn’t like the club you wanted to go to next anyway. It was a bit of a sleazy one compared to the other clubs in this part of the city but they played a lot of good old rock music and other classics from past decades. Since you were there for distraction, the two of you went to the dancefloor right away, headbanging to Dropkick Murphy’s Rose Tattoo within a crowd of mostly students and Gen X people that were still young at heart.

“This is so much more fun than those snobs in the other one”, Alicia gasped half an hour later while you were sneaking your way towards the bar. When you were standing behind her just like you did at the beginning of this night, something - or rather someone - next to the bar caught your eye. Niall kept up the eye contact for a few seconds before a smug grin appeared on his lips and he winked at you.

“I may or may not have a handsome guy emergency.”

“Huh? He’s here?”

“Yes and he winked at me. That’s code for ‘I’m not mad at you for letting me wait for so long, would you please come here’, right?”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s what it stands for”, Alicia giggled, “Well go then. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay if I don’t come back, please let me know when you got home safely, yeah? And don’t you dare walk this time.”

“I’m grown, Y/N, I’ll be fine. You let me know if handsome guy’s legit or if you need help getting rid of him.”

“Love you, talk to you tomorrow”, you said goodbye to her before kissing her cheek and making your way over to Niall.

“We keep bumping into each other, huh?”

The tone in your voice was supposed to sound as casual as possible but you were afraid he saw right through you. 

“We wouldn’t if you hadn’t leave me hanging the first time.”

“Well yeah… sorry about that actually. I know this is gonna sound like a very lame excuse but my friend was puking her guts out at the bathroom and I took care of her until her boyfriend came to pick her up. And when I got back to our spot, you were gone. Understandably.”

“It does sound like a lame excuse, not gonna lie. But you’re here, aren’t ya? So you’re either very desperate and changed your mind or you’re telling the truth.”

“Or I’m very desperate and telling the truth?”, you suggested with a grin, making him laugh.

“Well lucky me then. You look like you could use a drink?”

“Oh God yes, I’m so thirsty.”

“You better still be here when I come back”, he joked as he left you behind to get the two of your something at the bar.

“Promise.”

While he was gone, you wanted to check your phone but noticed that the network of your wireless carrier was pretty much dead here. A few minutes later, Niall came back with a beer and another Gin Tonic for you in his hands.

“Thank you”, you grinned at him and clicked your glass with his bottle, “I’m glad I ran into you again.”

The smile he gave you was genuine and probably the softest one you had seen from him so far.

“So am I, love.”

“Do you know the Champions League results from tonight? I don’t have a signal.”

He raised an eyebrow as he fumbled for his phone in his pocket to check if he had any luck.

“Football girl, are ya?”

“I am. Why? Are you one of those guys that think women are only into football to impress men?”

“Not at all, darling. Love me a woman who’s into watching sports. Which team?”

While he scrolled through the app on his phone, you took a step closer to him and put your hand on his arm to sneak a peek.

“Liverpool... what about you? Oh man 0-0? Well at least Munich didn’t score an away goal.”

“Derby first and foremost but Chelsea in the Premier League.”

“Hm, you don’t have anything to do with Champions League this season then, huh?”, you stated with a cheeky look on your face before sipping on your drink significantly.

“That’s rude, Y/N. They’ll get there again.”

“Hmhm, sure.”

He gave you an amused side-eye before putting his phone back and giving his full attention to you.

“I feel like I should change the topic”, you pretended to think aloud, “What brought you here from the comfort of that nice little VIP area anyway?”

“Saw you leaving and might have followed you. Not to be creepy.”

“So you usually wouldn’t come here?”

“No I would. I really like his one so I’m glad you forced me to go here.”

“I didn’t force you to do anything. You’re stalking me”, you declared playfully enraged, “Wait… were you watching us dancing?”

“That really makes me sound like a creep, huh? I mean… I wasn’t staring at you. But I checked if you were still there every now and then.”

“You like the chase?”

“I like you... based on the conversation we had earlier. And I like a challenge, yes.”

You smirked at him before you emptied your drink.

“Would you trust me to use the bathroom again? I swear I’ll get back to you. Even if I have to drag a puking friend over here.”

“Very flattering. I’ll wait, darling.”

Even though you were pretty sure that no one would interrupt you and even if, that Niall would have a little more patience this time, you hurried to get to the restroom and get back to where you left him. He had his back facing you so once you stood right behind him you placed your palms on his shoulder blades and let them move upwards to his neck, causing him to throw back his head and chuckle. After you had let go of him, he turned around to look at you.

“Glad it’s you. That would’ve been awkward if it had been someone else.”

You giggled and took the empty beer bottle out of his hand.

“My turn to get us something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you.”

The area around the bar was a little more crowded so it took you some time to squeeze through all the people, one of Niall’s hands constantly on your waist, until you had reached the barkeeper to order two beers. A man who looked like he had already been riding a Harley Davidson way before you were born offered you his barstool to sit on.

“Oh thanks.”

Niall was still right behind you and now leaned forward to support himself by putting a hand on the bar, basically trapping you between the wood and his body. And you couldn’t say that you minded.

“So here you drink beer instead of Gin Tonic?”, he asked you with a smirk on his face, as if he was making a little fun of you.

“I do, I just don’t like to start my night with it.”

“You’d rather end it with beer?”

“So to say.”

“There’s a lot of it where I live. If you wanna end the night there.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from bursting out into laughter.

“Was that supposed to be smooth?”

“Yeah I knew it was awful the moment I said it.”

“I can get over it if you bring me to that place where all the beer is.”

“So it works?”

“You work, not your bad pick up lines.”

“Wanna get outta here right now?”

You nodded as you took a sip from your full bottle before you put it on the bar and took his hand to let him lead you through the crowd and out of the club. Once outside, he called an Uber and pulled you closer to him for the time being.

“You cold?”, he asked you while stroking your arm.

“I’m a big girl, it’s fine.”

His hand wandered from your shoulder over your neck to your cheek where he gently pushed your head towards him to place a kiss on your temple. The Uber didn’t take long to arrive and as you closed the car door, an euphoric feeling of excitement rushed through your body. This night had been rather chaotic and now you were really on your way to this guy’s place, hopefully not only to drink beer. That reminded you of texting Alicia quickly.

Leaving with handsome guy now ;) xx

Throughout the whole ride, Niall’s fingers had brushed over your thigh. He had kept it lowkey so far but you had a feeling that once you were at his home, the tension between the two of you would take care of that. You were a bit stunned when you saw where the driver was stopping but then again, Niall already smelled rich. You had thought that he wouldn’t bring you to a greasy shared student flat but this was a lot more than you would have expected. As soon as the door fell shut behind you, he grabbed your waist and pulled you against his chest before leaning down to place little kisses all over the nape of your neck.

“I think the beer can wait if ya don’t mind?”

Instead of giving him an answer, you turned in his embrace and involved him in a deep kiss. Your lips found a rhythm right away. It wasn’t as hungry as you would have thought, rather slow and soft, almost careful. You let your hand wander from his chest up to his neck before running your fingers through his hair. A slight layer of hair products covered your fingertips but his little sighs every time you tugged on one of his strands sounded too good to be bothered by that. He leaned into the kiss, his hands roaming from the small of your back down to your butt where he let them rest. Yours in the meantime were sliding down his neck again and over his collarbones.

“Can I take this off?”, you asked with a fake innocence in your voice as you played with the collar of his shirt.

“Let’s get this to the bedroom, shall we?”

It wasn’t a question. He let go of you only to guide you to said room where he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes, but not without placing his lips on yours again. You slipped out of your high heels, making you a few centimeters shorter all of a sudden which made both of you chuckle as you interrupted your kiss. Niall pressed his body against yours again and took a step forward to indicate to you that he wanted you on his bed. When the back of your knees hit the edge, you let yourself fall down with him right on top of you. He stood up a moment later however to open the remaining buttons of his shirt before throwing it on the armchair behind him. You watched him from your position on the bed and moved around a little while your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your pants.

“Let me take care of that, darling.”

Niall crawled on top of you again, kissing you passionately and opening your pants slowly so you could wiggle out of them eventually. 

“You smell amazing”, he whispered as he buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath.

You leaned into his touch and brushed the tip of your nose over his ear while running your fingers through his hair again.

“Gonna get you out of this, yeah?”

It certainly did something to you that he asked for permission to take off your longsleeve even though you were already in his bed, making out half naked. You lifted your arms to help him as he sneaked his fingers underneath your shirt only to let them wander up the skin of your stomach, dragging the fabric with them. His touch was followed by small kisses that he placed all over your torso as he undressed you painfully slowly. When the hem of the shirt had reached your chest, his fingertips brushed over the sides of your bra while his lips caressed the valley in the center. He carefully nibbled at the swell of your breasts before finally pulling the shirt over your head and giving you another gentle kiss.

His palms stroked over your lace-clad boobs, making you bend your back into a curve so you could press into his touch. He got the hint and sneaked his fingers under your body to fumble with the clasp of your bra. After he had opened it, he slid the straps down your arms and got back up again, taking in the sight of your naked body beneath him.

“Ya stunning”, he stated with genuine awe in his eyes that made you blush.

“Can’t have you getting stunned now.”

Your response made him chuckle before he stood up from the bed to take off his pants.

“Would ya lie down properly for me, love?”

You sat up and crawled over the bed until you were right in the middle of it where you laid back down, letting your fingertips wander over your own torso as you watched him get undressed. After being left in only his boxer briefs - that already showed off a nice bulge -, he joined you on the bed, positioning himself between your ankles that he meaningfully spread apart. He bend down to lie between your calves, his hands wrapping around your legs to pull your center a bit closer to his face. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, kissing you there, nibbling at the sensitive skin, probably leaving a mark for the next morning. When his nose nudged against the hem of your panties, you knew what was going to happen next. He got back on his knees and hooked his fingers under the waistband to dragged them down your thighs slowly, over your knees and off eventually. While he got into his former position, he turned his head to the side to kiss your leg until he reached the inside of your thigh again and lied on his stomach.

Niall leaned forward to place an open mouthed kiss on your pussy. A blissful sigh left your lips as you stretched yourself and put your arms behind your head, closing your eyes and enjoying what this beautiful man between your legs did to you. His lips caressed your slit, teasing you because they were careful to not touch your most sensitive spot yet. Instead, they wandered to the part where your thighs met your hips, leaving a few kisses there before getting back to the center. 

The tip of his tongue sneaked between your folds and went from your entrance to the top, nudging against your clit, causing you to whimper quietly. He closed his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucked on it. A flash started right at that spot and ran through your whole body, covering your skin in goosebumps. You could feel yourself getting wetter while Niall kept eating you out as if he had waited all night for this. He used two of his fingers to spread your lips so he could properly lick his way up and down your pussy. His other hand teased your entrance, a fingertip dipping inside of you to the first knuckle, only to draw back again.

“Niall… please.”

He looked up where his gaze met your flushed cheeks and closed eyes, an expression of pleasure and desperation on your face. Instead of giving you want you wanted, he let go of you with both his mouth and his fingers, leaving you high and dry beneath him as he sat up on his knees. You opened your eyes, giving him a pleading look but all you got in return was a smug smirk.

“Don’t worry, love. I got you”, he let you know before he took off his boxer briefs and got further between your legs. While you let your eyes wander up and down his body, biting your lip in anticipation of what was to come, he wrapped his hand around one of your calves and lifted your leg slightly to have better access.

“Are ya on birth control?”

You nodded in response before you added, “Please…”

“Please what, darling?”

“Fuck me, please.”

When he had asked, he had been expecting you to say something along the lines of “Need you” or “Want you inside me” but those words out of your mouth made his cock twitch. For a quick second, he thought about teasing you a little longer but that would only be teasing himself as well.

He wanted you. Bad.

As he bent down, one of his arms supported him while the other one pulled you towards his center before he guided his cock between your folds. You wrapped your leg around his hips and sighed in pleasure from the delicious feeling of him filling you. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

His voice was hoarse and you could hear how he was trying to hold himself back and not fuck you senseless right away. He gave you time to adjust to his size before he started to move slowly, carefully, as if you were made out of glass.

“Niall”, you whimpered, “Fuck me.”

Again, his dick twitched. Encouraged by your words, he picked up the pace, sliding in and out of you in a strong steady rhythm. The noises you made were filthy. Hungry moans, skin slapping against skin, the wetness of your pussy audible.

“Such a perfect little cunt”, Niall gasped before using his free hand to slip between your bodies and play with your clit.

You lifted your arms and reached out for him, making him bend down to let you place your palms on his back and involve him in a passionate kiss. He kissed you just as deeply as he fucked you, moving with you in perfect sync as you felt the familiar knot building up in your lower stomach.

“‘m close”, you

His mouth had brought you pretty far already and you had secretly hoped that he would make you come like that. But you then realized that Niall was a tease, that he wasn’t one to give you what you wanted but something better. Your words seemed to motivate him to bring you where you needed to be. He hit you deep, the force of his thrusts sent shocks of pleasure through your bones. His thumb on your clit was the final straw for you when he perfectly timed both the sensations inside and outside of your pussy.

You clenched around him uncontrollably. Your back left the sheets while the warmth spread in your whole body and made you shiver. His name left your lips a thousand times and your fingernails digging into the skin of his back would leave some marks tomorrow without doubt. While he gently fucked you through your orgasm, his hand stroked your cheek lovingly, adding the blissful feeling of affection to the pleasure you were experiencing. You came down from your high slowly, panting as he kept sliding in and out of you, chasing his own orgasm. Your pussy still twitching around him tipped him over the edge.

“Fucking hell.”

He threw back his head and stayed still as the exciting flashes pierced through his nerves. You could feel his cock throbbing while he spurted his cum inside of you. The look on his face was relaxed, satisfied and in your post-orgasm bliss, he looked like a piece of art above you. A few moments later, he slid out of you, leaving you uncomfortably empty but pleasantly aching, before he collapsed next to you, careful not to crush you. You cuddled into his side and kissed his collarbone, your leg wrapped around his as you listened to his breathing getting back to a normal pattern. He put an arm around you, turned his head and lifted your chin with two fingers to give you a sweet gentle kiss.

“Are ya staying?”, he whispered after letting go of your lips.

“If you don’t want me to leave.”

“I don’t. One time is enough for tonight.”

You buried your face in his neck, smiling as you already imagined how to wake him up in the morning.