#sitting in the sunshine feeling emotional damn its good to be back but i still gotta get back 2 work and get my license

[triggeringtommy]

it's gonna be a gay emo summer i can feel it

[just-a-carrot]

Had the chance to sit down and play the new installment (that makes it sound like an appliance... OW: Smart Fridge Edition) and it's so viscerally raw and human. The whole game is, but wow. My favorite genre of fiction is fantasy, for being able to see a creator and their world as 'look at a life these people are living and the world they're living in'. A world surreal, fantastic, and all too easy to think about what it would be like if it was real-- acting like it is real with dreams of dragons and elves. Our Wonderland goes beyond that, in a way few other fantasy stories I've read have. It's not the fantasy of magical beings living in a sprawling, epic world; it's not the fantasy of a gigantic battle of good versus evil-- the fantasy comes in when the cast thinks their lives should be just like the tales of knights and glory. The fantasy is just humans trying their darndest, despite it all. Hoping for a better world. Which wouldn't be so worth commenting on if not for the execution. Every emotion, every action-- beat-by-beat it's gripping and a perfect sell into the world. Playing the finale elicited some feelings and memories I had forgotten about. The sense of turning on the GameCube late at night, going to play Mario Sunshine. Long road trips immersed in the scenery of forest and buffalo, after having spent hours staring at cities. Getting up to dumb hijinks with people I'd only know for a few days. Staring out into the open ocean upon a swing. I'm not sure why it brought those out, but I think it's because of how human the game is, it gets you to think. It got me to think, anyways. Anywho, thank you for an amazing experience Carrot. I hope you have a good rest, and that my thoughts are written here somewhat coherently. If not, I'll summarize: DAMN GOOD GAME. DAMN GOOD STORY. DAMN GOOD ART. DAMN GOOD.

SOB

i don't know how to respond to this... this is incredibly sweet and thoughtful and i'm not sure i have the eloquence currently to type up and actually decent response 🥺💦

but i can definitely feel in my heart what you mean. even if it's not necessarily the exact same emotions or in the exact same way, especially as the creator rather than the experiencer in this case. but like. OW has always filled me with those types of nostalgic feelings as well. maybe it's because at its core, its about these types of fundamental happinesses. and these fundamental relationships we form as kids. and perhaps also simply because so much of the OW cast's pasts and experiences draw so heavily from my own, so it becomes almost as though i'm looking back into my own past through some kind of slightly warped threshold or something

stuff like the final scene in the field for instance was inspired by a scene in majora's mask, which is something i used to play with my sister. we would talk the characters aloud and make up our own stories rather than what they were actually saying (usually really ridiculous and stupid stuff lakdsfjad) or make silly radio plays where we recorded ourselves acting our chars from the game. also a lot of the references both in and outside of the game (like in my non-in-game art and such) was inspired by my own memories. so thinking about the game often makes these additional nostalgic coils drift up through my own memories

at any rate, i can't be sure that's the exact type of same feelings you're talking about, but... i feel like i understand the vibe of what you're saying at least

AND OFC I'M JUST REALLY HAPPY YOU ENJOYED THE ENDING DLKJALDSKJFASD

i still can't believe it's really over. and i mean sure it's not OVER over because i still have plans for other stuff with the chars and even the revamp which would include still working on stuff for the main game. but nothing will ever be the same for me as working on this game itself. and i'm really so grateful for everyone who's joined me in this journey because i'm not sure i would have made it to the end without all of you 💦

but i digress. thank you for this lovely message and for attempting to write up your thoughts lsakjdfasd it really means a lot!! 💕

[afangirlsmuse]

WIP-Wednesday

I didn't want to miss it!

Have some of the next chapter of A Wish Beyond the Witchlight

Some spoilers for the 5e campaign module The Wild Beyond the Witchlight. Follows post-game adventure with Astarion and my Tav, Khinna on a quest to get Astarion back into the sunshine.

Khinna is a multi-class warlock/sorcerer. Her patron is the Archfey Zybilna, by whom she was raised, and considers her mother.

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

The ride in the gondola was smooth and pleasant, as Swanah promised them. Astarion kept Khinna tucked in snuggly at his side, relishing in the simple comfort of having her close to him. His fingers traced the embroidery he added to the sleeves of a dress for her. A name-day gift for her while they were staying in the lower city. 

As their boat floated over the river, Astarion tilted his head up, gazing at the motes of light that hung in the air around them. He felt Khinna shift slightly, her head resting on the space between his shoulder and chest as she joined him in marveling at the magical sight.  He turned his head slightly and kissed the top of her head. 

“I love you.” He murmured into her hair. She shifted again, looking up and leaning in to press her lips against his. 

“And I love you.” She returned. He gave her a small smile and pulled her back against him, letting her once again use him as a pillow as they stared at the colored orbs of light dancing in the air. 

The ride lasted little more than an hour, though it could have been mere minutes. Having Khinna close to hold gently, without fear of threats looming large on the horizon or nightmares to chase away was something he was still getting accustomed to. But it was definitely something he wanted to get used to. 

The romantic atmosphere of the ride and merriment of the carnival on their return to the pier clutched on his chest, stealing his breath from just how…sentimental, grateful, loved, and happy he felt. True joy, not the satisfied satiation he felt when she bore her neck to him.  It was all so strange and almost too much. 

 He straightened his posture and tensed his muscles after climbing from the boat, trying to focus on anything but the deluge of emotion crashing through him. A blessedly joyful and overwhelmingly positive deluge, but a deluge nonetheless. His grip on Khinna’s hand must have been a tad too firm as it drew her attention to his expression. She guided him off the pier after thanking their gondola swan to a bench in a small alcove, obviously meant for resting in between carnival attractions. 

“What do you need?” She asked, sitting down, taking both of his hands in hers. He shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Its all so much. I don’t know!” The brush of her thumb across his knuckles did little to ground him, but it was a start. He let out an almost incredulous breathy laugh, “I’ve never felt so elated,” He shook his head as he tried to parse through everything he felt. It wasn’t the emotions themselves that unsettled him. It was the sheer magnitude of them leaving him feeling out of control. Why could he manipulate and lie his way in and out of almost any situation, and yet, being here at a gods damned carnival of all places, had him feeling like he was spiraling out of control?. 

A slip of control, an errant display of emotion, any emotion that wasn’t tailored to his situation meant consequences. Most of which he wanted to avoid. More lashes, more time in the kennel, a victim escaping him. He had to keep in control, even if what he was feeling was good.  He shook his head like it would rattle his unchecked emotions back in line. 

Khinna stayed silent, her grip firm enough to remind him she was there but gentle enough that he could pull free should he need to. He squeezed her hands as she released one of his, bringing it up to his cheek to wipe away a stray tear. Damn this place for making him so sentimental! He huffed, grateful she had not made a scene of it. The last thing he wanted to was seem more vulnerable in such a public place. 

“The carnival has a way of reflecting and amplifying the emotions of its patrons. It’s part of how Mr. Witch and Mr. Light, in particular, make sure their patrons enjoy themselves.” She kept stroking her thumb over his knuckles, her other hand gently caressing his cheek, which he turned into. “Normally, it’s barely perceptible and only affects the atmosphere of the carnival. I suspect after all you have been through, you are much more aware, consciously or not, of your emotions.” His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned more into her touch, trying to chase away the feeling of vulnerability the influx of emotion had on him.  

He felt a calm wash over him then, and he exhaled as he opened his eyes. She had activated the warding bond in their rings. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. Of course, she knew he was distressed, even if it resulted from good emotions. His body relaxed, and he turned his head to kiss Khinna’s palm. “Thank you…” He murmured to her. 

She returned the soft smile with one of her own and a nod. “Do you need anything? More wine? Do you want to feed?” her hand moved from his face to his hands again. 

He shook his head, “I’m alright now.” 

“Should we do something a bit more thrilling then? Get your mind off of all this sappy and romantic nonsense?” She teased gently. 

He gave a good-natured huff. “Please,” He chaffed back at her, untangling himself, and standing up to offer her his arm. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Khinna guided him back the way they came, and to an attraction they passed on the way in. She looked up at him with another one of those smiles that he adored as they approached a pond with the most enormous lily pads he had ever seen. Eight giant dragonflies flew over their heads in the colored orbs of light. 

At the gate, Khinna dropped his arm, running up to the attendant. “Northwind!” 

A treannt sapling with a lush green canopy and golden garland adorning his branches looked up and smiled. “Khinna!” His leaves rattled, and a little red squirrl appeared, running down the treant’s arms. 

“Khinna?! She's come to visit?!” The squirel launched itself from the treant to Khinna’s bosom. She giggled as Astarion caught up to her. 

“She has!” She said back, giving the squirrel a scratch on the head with her finger. Astarion looked from Khinna to the treant, to the squirrel, quirking an eyebrow curiously. 

“A druid?” He asked curiously, with a slight touch of contempt for the tiny creature clinging to her breast. 

“Oh no Red is just a squirrel.” 

“An awakened squirrel thank you very much!” Red protested scampering up to Khinna’s shoulder, tail twitching curiously as he eyed Astarion. 

Astarion’s eyes narrowed just slightly, and a mischievous glint lit up his expression. He flashed the creature a bit of fang. “Oh good. Thinking creatures make much better snacks!” He snapped his teeth in a mock bite at him. 

“Eek!” The squirrel scurried off of Khinna, leaping back over to the safety of the treat’s branches. Astarion replaced the squirrel on Khinna’s shoulder with his arm casually draped over her. Khinna couldn’t help but giggle again. 

“Oh be nice you,” she said while bringing her hand up to lightly hit his chest in delicate chastisement. 

Red poked his head out of Northwind’s branches again. “Khinna’s prince is not very nice! Not very nice at all!”

[mamashima]

Dom!Mirio and Dom!Tamaki making love to their fiancee after proposing to her that night 🥺 Mirio and Tamaki don't like each other romantically. Thanks in advance, and yeah I like fluff-smut shit. 🤍🤍

CONTENT | sum fluffy shit, f!reader, angel n sunshine as pet names, handcuffs, cunnilingus,

AUTHORS NOTE | thanks for requesting love! i haven’t written much of the fluff stuff, n i found it to be a nice change of pace :))

The cold nips at the highest points of your cheeks and ears. A bridge of warmth falls across your eyes from a blindfold as Tamaki walks you outside, glove to glove—for what, you aren’t quite sure.

“Tama, why—“

“Patience, Angel. We’re almost there.”

He walks you a few feet further. You’re almost positive you’re standing in the driveway, feeling the uneven cut stones your snow boots, but no matter how much you pester, the damn ravenette will not tell you anything.

Then Tamaki’s hands disappear.

When you reach for them, all you get is a fistfull of snowflakes. You start to panic, taking a few steps backwards, and absolutely hating the fact that you can’t see.

“Take the blindfold off, Sunshine.”

Oh.

Once understanding passes, a frown quickly forms. Mirio’s voice? But he’s on a—

You yank the stupid bandana off, feeling a little silly for keeping it on for so long in the first place, but it takes a second to adjust to all the white. You still don’t see either of your boyfriends. Not until your eyes drift down.

Both Mirio and Tamaki are on their knees, cheeks pinked from the cold and both holding the prettiest rocks you’ve ever seen on two gold bands. Both of them are different but match their person in its own way, and it’s perfect. This is perfect. They’re perfect.

“Um, well we didn’t really plan words but—“

“Just put ‘em on,” you chuckle, trying to hide a sniffle because no, you are not crying. “You know my answer just—“

“We wanna hear you say it, Angel,” Tamaki insists, pushing forward. You know his knee has got to be cold. Mirio’s frozen lips crack into a cocky smile and part of you wants to wipe it off, but there are too many emotions sprinting through your veins to be sarcastic.

“Yes!”

“Goodness. You look so pretty like this, Angel.”

Tamaki and Mirio look down at you from their spot on the bed. Mirio tugs on the handcuffs to make sure they’re locked properly before giving you a soft peck on the lips, standing beside the ravenette. You wear a smile on your face even as Tamaki plucks off your panties and sits them on the bed where they’re soon to fall.

He doesn’t press butterfly kisses on your inner thigh for long, moving up until his nose rests against your clit and mouth against you. Your cuffed hands roll into fists and Mirio assumes the spot behind to take control of your neck and face.

“How ya feelin’, Sunshine?”

Mirio slides his hands down your sides to grab ahold of your hips. You gasp, “G-Good—I feel—“

“She’s dripping everywhere,” Tamaki groans, rising to reveal soaked cheeks. Your face burns with embarrassment but it’s not a loud thought—and you burn brighter as you feel Mirio’s chest rumble with a chuckle behind you.

“Awe Sunshine, we make you feel that good, huh?” He coos, thumb swiping your wetness. You mutter a cheap, pink-cheeked apology, but the bright blond tuts. “Don’t apologize, Pretty—we love making you feel good. You deserve it.”

Tamaki hikes your leg over his shoulder before diving back in. You hiss, shudder, and Mirio’s hands provide an anchor to keep you from floating away. The blond bites into your neck, groaning at the pretty little sounds you make from both of their lips. You finally have wiggle room to grind against Tamaki’s face—you take it and run, and apparently, so does he.

Tamaki’s eyes flutter shut as he moans into your wetness. The hands Mirio sat around your waist now act as a guide, shifting your hips forward a little easier than you can on your own. You don’t realize how close you are until the ravenette digs his canines your inner thigh, biting a squeal and an orgasm you weren’t ready for out of you. Mirio’s lips slow as your breathing does, and Tamaki doesn’t take his mouth off until your inner thighs start twitching. It doesn’t take Mirio long to undo the cuffs and lay you on your stomach.

Insert round two.

[ginemrys]

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[cuttoothed]

Day 7 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt "You are my reason". Still living in post-200 AU land.

*

There comes a day when Jon doesn’t wake up afraid.

His alarm goes off before the sun rises; he wakes tired, but feeling a little thrill of anticipation, because he and Martin have plans today. Nothing earth shattering, but they’re both off work, and the weather is due to be nice, so they’re going hiking up in the hills. Jon’s been looking forward to this all week; he's even okay with being up at dawn on his day off.

The hike is challenging, but the views are worth it, as the morning clouds part into sunshine and leave them gazing out across the craggy, verdant landscape. At the crest of the trail, they sit on a boulder to eat sandwiches and drink tea from a flask; Martin spots some cows on the hillside below and points them out with delight. By the time they get back to the car, they’re exhausted, and they agree that nobody’s going to be cooking tonight, so it’s takeaway from the Indian place near their flat.

That evening they eat too much curry, and drink red wine, and end up curled sleepy and sated on the sofa together, watching nonsense on telly.

“This was a good day,” Jon says; Martin only hums in agreement, so it’s probably time to get him to bed.

It’s only as he’s brushing his teeth that Jon realizes that he hasn’t thought about the end of the world all day. He usually wakes up from dreams of the ruined world; at the very least, it’s always in the back of his mind, guilt and fear and grief tapping at the windows of his consciousness through the day. He’s never had a day where he didn’t think at all about what happened—about what he did.

The realization jolts sharply through him, like a missed step in the dark; it makes something drop like a stone into his stomach, though he doesn't understand why.

He tells his therapist about it at their next session, couched in the careful untruths he’s crafted to convey the vast weight of it all without mentioning the literal apocalypse. Stuart listens, nodding, as he describes what happened, and then when Jon is finished he says:

“You know this is a good thing, right?”

“S-sorry?”

“Trauma plants its roots deep, Jon. It’s pervasive, like chronic pain. The days you have without pain in your leg or your hand, those are good, right? Even though they don’t mean that you’re permanently healed?”

“Yes,” Jon admits, flexing his fingers.

“This is the same. Your trauma isn’t gone, but the fact that you were able to enjoy a whole day without thinking about what happened—that’s really, really good.”

“But I can’t just forget—” Jon starts, and he’s not sure what he’s trying to say; I can’t forget what happened, I can’t forget that it was my fault, I can’t stop looking over my shoulder for what’s coming next.

“Of course not,” Stuart agrees. “But part of healing is letting what happened move into the past. Not forgetting it, but recognizing that it isn’t part of your present. That you can move on.”

Except it is the present, in the thousands of worlds he unleashed the Fears into. It isn’t something that can just be forgotten, that he can move on from. They’ve seen and felt no trace of the Fears in this world yet, but even that doesn’t mean they won’t come; it may just be a matter of time. Jon feels his chest tighten with that knowledge, that fear.

“The people I hurt,” he says carefully. “It’s not in the past for them—they’re still hurt by my actions today.”

“That might be true,” Stuart says. “But from what you’ve told me, you can’t change that. And your guilt doesn’t help them. All it does is punish you.”

“Maybe I deserve to be punished,” Jon snaps angrily, but Stuart only smiles, his face kind.

“Nobody deserves to be punished forever, Jon. Eventually, you have to forgive yourself.”

They’re nice words, but Stuart can’t possibly understand what he’s asking Jon to do. He’s been responsible for immeasurable pain and fear, the unchecked torture of billions of people; he will be responsible for so much more, across thousands of worlds. His whole life has been nothing but a means to a horrifying end. How can he just absolve himself of guilt, enjoy this charmed life he’s somehow gained while damning countless others?

(How can he believe that the consequences will not find him, someday.)

Martin must notice his mood when he gets back from therapy, because it’s not five minutes before a mug of tea and a packet of Jon’s favorite biscuits are placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“All right?” Martin asks, sitting down on the sofa with his own tea. He never asks Jon questions about his therapy —just as Jon respects the privacy of Martin’s sessions—but if he thinks Jon is upset, he’ll ask an open question like this, so Jon knows the offer is there to talk about it.

Jon considers. He hasn’t told Martin about what happened—or rather didn’t happen—the day they went hiking, not wanting to spoil it for him. But Martin’s the only person in this entire world who can possibly understand how Jon is feeling, and he’s the person Jon trusts most. Jon doesn’t want to hide things from him, not anymore. They’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.

So he tells Martin what happened, and how it made him feel, and what Stuart said, and how that made him feel. At the end of it, Martin gives him a fond, teasing smile.

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re feeling bad for not feeling bad,” he says. “That is...so incredibly you, honestly.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Jon protests.

“I know it is. And I’m not trying to dismiss how you feel. I promise. It’s just…” Martin pauses, his brow furrowing as he considers what to say. “Sometimes, when I feel sad for no reason—when parts of me go sort of...numb, I start looking around, expecting to see the fog curling in under the windows. But it isn’t, because the Lonely isn’t here, and I have to deal with the fact that there’s no—no fear monster making me feel that way. It’s just me.”

“Martin…” says Jon, his heart aching. Martin doesn’t often talk about the bad days, after they’ve passed; he prefers to save it for his therapist, since “that’s what I pay them for”. He reaches for Martin’s hand, and Martin laces their fingers together.

“I think you’re the same,” Martin says. “Ever since we got here, you’ve been waiting for something bad to happen. For all of it to—to catch up with you. But it hasn’t. There’s no Fears coming after you, and there’s no...universal justice, or whatever, to punish you. It’s just you, Jon.”

Jon feels a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging. Has he been waiting all this time for something bad to happen, for the other shoe to drop? Has he thought of this as only temporary—a longer respite than that three weeks in the cottage, but just as impermanent? He shakes his head.

“That doesn’t take away from what I did,” he says. Martin nods.

“It doesn’t,” he says. “And nothing takes from the fact that I didn’t kill Jonah Magnus when I had the chance, either. We can’t change the past. We just have to find reasons to live with it. To carry on living. Now, as we are.”

“You know what my reason is,” Jon tells him, his voice thick with emotion; he told Martin a long time ago. Martin ducks his head, smiling, and his fingers squeeze around Jon’s.

“I know,” he says. “But it’s okay to have other reasons too. A nice hike in the hills, or going to the pub with some friends, or petting the many cats you seem to have befriended in our neighborhood. It’s okay to just...be happy, Jon. I promise.”

“I-I’m not sure I can,” Jon tells him; he’s not sure he deserves the chance to be.

“I know,” Martin says. “I know it’s difficult. But you do deserve it. And I’ll be here to keep telling you that until you believe it. I’ll be here to help you keep getting better, like you help me. As long as it takes.”

Jon feels a sob rising in his chest, and dives in to stifle it against Martin’s shoulder, burying his face in the solid expanse. He can feel the tears wetting his cheeks, soaking into Martin’s jumper, but he knows Martin won’t mind. Martin’s arms go around him.

“I hope you’re okay with the long haul, then,” he mumbles against Martin’s shoulder. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this, probably nothing, but he has it, and he doesn’t want to let it go. Martin chuckles warmly, petting his hair.

“That’s what I’m here for, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be your reason, if you’ll be mine.”

“That’s the deal, then?” Jon says; he’s not sure if he’s laughing or sobbing, but he knows he loves this man with all his heart.

“That’s the deal,” Martin agrees. And Jon might not deserve a deal like that, but he’d be a fool not to take it.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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[shiedagabe]

Who’s The Fool Now?

GIF Belongs To: Kylierosetypo, Imgur.com

Word Count: 1300

Genre: Smut

Today’s the 1st day of April, and you know what that meant, it was finally time to prank your boyfriend. If you were to be honest, you had this planned for a looooong time, but you never had the opportunity to pull it off because you never felt too comfortable making these kinds of jokes. This one was a serious one and, despite finding it hilarious, you were simultaneously fearful of what he would do to you when he found out. Nevertheless, if you wanted to pull this practical joke off you needed to get some preparations done first.

You started by removing all of your knives from the room because you were fearful he’d stab you instinctively before he could find out what was going on, despite your love for knives. You used them more than you should, in all actuality. Not only did you wield them to torture people who you knew you were going to kill anyway, you used them to pleasure each other, as well. You loved being scarred no matter where, except the face, of course. You still had your own life besides J, so a huge scar on your face would always be a cause for suspicion. Luckily, you have a pet cat, so you could always shift the blame on to it. Luckily they laughed it off and so did you, but as soon as you came home you berated him so he’d never do it again. Although, as always, he didn’t care. Not that he didn’t care for you; he’d admit that himself even if he didn’t show it, he just didn’t care about petty things. He did as he pleased and you liked that in him – the ability to not be controlled by social norms, or legal norms, for that matter, was something you admired and so very wished to achieve. He’s currently trying to help you reach that goal, as well, although things aren’t going as smoothly as you had expected. You have a very hard time being, or pretending to be, unemotional. Your first kill was a horrendous one, you admit that, even though you didn’t have any emotional connection to the deceased man, you still cried for him. He comforted you for a bit, but he quickly told you to get back on your feet, if you spent any more time in that damned placed you would’ve been caught.

You woke yourself up from your daydream and hurried up, you were sure he’d be there in no time, and, surprisingly, you were right. He seldom gets home on time, but I guess today was one of those days. He always says that «business isn’t uh… sunshine and rainbows» and despite knowing that’s true, you wonder what he’s doing there every time. Is he killing the businessmen he’s trying to dissuade? Are they that stubborn? You understood that it might be hard to collaborate with a wanted, unpredictable criminal, but something else has to be going on, maybe you should start investigating him while he wasn’t looking.

You heard his car stop outside; you were growing more and more anxious, thinking if you should really do this, or if you should keep your mouth shut so he wouldn’t literally kill you. He headed on inside while taking his heavy purple suit on the coat hanger, even though that thing almost tumbles over because of its weight. Today was a hot and sunny day but you refused to go outside because you wanted to have some fun first. You welcomed him home, such as it is, and escorted him to the shower, since he must be scolding hot while wearing that darned suit all day. He wanted you to join him while showering but, as much as you wanted to join him, you had the perfect plan in your head.

You mounted a siren behind the curtains and you set your phone up as well so it’d emulate a cop’s siren at full volume. After mounting those and setting those up you pretended to bust down your front door. He furiously came out of the bathroom with nothing more than a towel over his hips and a confused stare on his face. He wasn’t panicking, but he was worried for your safety. Although, the only thing he saw was your sorry ass standing in the bedroom with pleading eyes, apologizing to him and that you had to do this before he could hurt you. He was fuming. You could see and feel his frustration building up quickly inside of him. He threw you against the wall and you were knocked out, you only remember hearing him saying «stay here, I’m not going down without a fight».

You woke up feeling dazed and confused and he was sitting right in front of you with a siren in his hands. You could still feel how angry he was, although he refused to show it to you.

-          You want to explain what this is? – He said while irately looking at you.

-          Uhmmm… April Fools?

As soon as you said that he grabbed you by your shoulders and threw you on to the bed.

-          I’ll uh… show you who the fool is.

There was no foreplay this time; he was too annoyed and angry to give you that kind of pleasure. He ripped your clothes off before you could say anything, giving him the pleasure of admiring it, not that he cared about it now, though. He threw his towel against the wall and he forced his throbbing veiny cock inside of you. He was careful while doing this every other time, but I guess today was different. He wanted to pleasure himself and no-one else; if that came at your expense he didn’t care. Little did he know, however, this is exactly what you wanted from him. To make you his bitch and you finally figured out how to do it. You thought to yourself that you had to do this more often if you wanted to have some genuine fun. Before you had time to breathe he grabbed you by your throat and started pounding even harder, he wanted to hear something from you like a painful grunt or a hurtful moan but you didn’t want him to get that kind of satisfaction either. It was slowly turning into a small war between you two, in good fun, where he tried to hurt you as much as possible while you were trying to remove all satisfaction from him as possible. He tried reaching into the nightstand so he could grab one of those aforementioned knives but they were all missing. He stared into your soul furiously and intensely asked you where they were. You simply smirked and shrugged your shoulders. That did it. He was so mad you could almost see smoke coming out of his nose and ears. He was already grabbing your throat, but while before he was doing it sort of playfully and letting you breathe you couldn’t say the same now. You literally couldn’t breathe and you were slowly losing your consciousness again. Before that could happen, however, you felt him breathing more heavily and his cock starting to throb again, he was cumming inside of you and he knew you hated that. He didn’t care; however, you were going to give back whatever you took from him, which was a peaceful day at home.

After he was done calming down and cleaning up he looked at your miserable body lying on the bed, dripping full of sweat and cum, with a huge red scar on your neck.

-          Maybe you should uh… tell your coworkers that your cat did that.

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 20 || Next ➡

Kirishima stays behind in the gym most evenings. This is not news to anyone, nor is it uncommon.

He usually outstays everyone actually. His stamina seems to be endless, and his quirk relies on his physical health and his ability to increase and extend his limits. So, Kirishima stays, and he trains, and he smiles the whole time. He pumps iron like a madman but makes sure to stay (barely) within his limits.

Tokoyami is aware of Kirishima’s gym habits, so he isn’t surprised when he backtracks one day to pick up a towel he’d left on one of the stands, only to find Kirishima in the room even though it’s late evening. It isn’t anything worth noting.

What is weird though is seeing him sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors, his face almost glued to his reflection. He’s leaning with his hands on his knees, and Tokoyami’s sure his forehead is touching the mirror.

The red head just stares at his reflection, and Tokoyami realizes that Kirishima is so absorbed in whatever it is that he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize the beaked hero is in the room. Tokoyami cocks his head to the side and decides to wait a minute before making his presence known.

Moments later, Kirishima hardens himself. More specifically, he hardens himself from the neck up, his arms and legs still soft and unchanged. It’s still nothing too out of the ordinary, except the face-plastered-to-the-mirror-while-on-the-floor bit.

7 seconds later, Kirishima takes a deep breath and grunts, hardening further. Layers and layers of hardening stack up like a deck of cards, and Tokoyami swallows back a chirp of amazement as he witnesses Kirishima go into Unbreakable form, his face and neck jagged and sharp. It’s mesmerizing almost, his diamond like appearance, the way it makes the vertebrae on the back of his neck jut out like a protective armor, the way even his hair hardens, though he’s left it in a pony right now.

And his eyes. Kirishima’s eyes look fierce, fiery, and so menacing. Tokoyami watches him in awe.

Kirishima continues to stay on the floor, staring at his reflection in Unbreakable. Reading his expressions might be difficult when his face is literally like a slab of well sculpted marble, not soft or malleable enough to form expressions and convey emotions, but Tokoyami can tell he’s furrowing his brow. He can see the frustration dancing in his brown-red eyes, and a few more seconds later Kirishima drops his quirk entirely. His vertebrae melt back into his neck, his cheeks are soft and fluffy, his hair puffy, and his eyes-

Sad. Thoughtful. Frustrated.

Tokoyami clears his throat. ‘Excuse me.’

Kirishima whips his head around with a surprised look on his face. He breaks into a grin when he sees Tokoyami.

‘What’s up man?’

Tokoyami points at the stands near Kirishima, slowly making his way towards it. ‘I seem to have left my towel here, I wish to pick it up so I may wash it before our next sessions.’

Kirishima looks at the stand and nods in understanding. ‘Gotcha! Please go ahead.’ He gives him a thumbs up.

Tokoyami picks up the familiar black towel with its deep purple border. The material is familiar and deceptively soft, and it smells like him. He hugs it to his chest and takes a step back before turning to look at Kirishima. The redhead catches his stare in the mirror and looks up, throwing him a quizzical smile.

‘Pardon the intrusion,’ Tokoyami starts softly, fidgeting with the towel. ‘I happened to walk in while you engaged your quirk, and I am unable to understand your intentions.’

Kirishima’s face pales instantly. ‘Oh shit, you saw that? I swear, I’m not using my quirk for anything weird, I know we aren’t supposed to use it outside of hero stuff yet but please don’t tell anyone, I really don-‘

‘Ah, you misunderstand,’ Tokoyami interrupts. ‘I do not believe you’re doing anything improper or unsafe. I merely wish to inquire about your intentions as I could not decipher them for myself. That is, of course, if you wish to speak about it. With me. If not, I understand completely and will gladly drop the subject.’

Kirishima immediately deflates with a relieved sigh. He looks away from Tokoyami and watches his own face in the mirror. Tokoyami moves his gaze to Kirishima’s face, and they look at each other through the reflective surface. Kirishima gives him a small smile, tentative and uncertain and very un-Kirishima like.

‘I don’t like talking about it cause it sounds super dumb but it’s not like I don’t want to talk about it. Um. Just. Don’t laugh? I guess?’

Tokoyami nods. ‘I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I am honored that you would trust me enough to open up about whatever it is that seems to plague your mind.’

Kirishima laughs softly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything quite so dramatic. It’s just, I’ve been doing some quirk training, I guess? Not the kind I can do during our Hero course though. This is more personal?’

Tokoyami nods in understanding, silently urging him to continue.

‘I’ve read so many things about my Unbreakable form. Most people love it. And I love it! I mean, it’s definitely a work in progress, and I know I can develop it more and get better and stronger and everything, but it’s a good move for sure. So, like, I know we all get our criticisms about our quirks, that’s normal and that’s ok.’

Kirishima clenches the fists in his lap, eyes dropping down to watch them. ‘I’ve read that my Unbreakable form is scary. Ugly. Menacing. Frightening.’ He purses his lips. ‘I don’t think those are bad things, not at all. And I don’t really mind what it looks like, it gets the job done!’

Kirishima looks back up, twisting to catch Tokoyami’s eyes with his own, omitting the mirror altogether. ‘But I wonder if my face is too scary for the kids, you know? And when I’m in the middle of a rescue in the future, I don’t want to add to their stress. I don’t want to scare them anymore than they already probably will be. But I can’t really drop Unbreakable all the time either.’

Tokoyami nods again, understanding Kirishima’s problems and feeling it ache in his core.

‘So, I wondered if there’s any way for me to make Unbreakable just a little more humane while preserving its functionality. I was thinking about softening just my eyes, so they’re not quite so jagged and scary.’

Kirishima’s eyes move back to the mirror, and he punches his thigh roughly, mouth twisting into a grimace. ‘Fine control over small portions of my body is hard though. I have a tough enough time maintaining Unbreakable on its own. To fine tune that even more seems impossible. And like, I’m not even sure it’ll work. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing Tokoyami. Not a damned clue.’

Tokoyami trills in thought, his hand moving up to support his chin.

‘While I do not wish to move the subject away from you, I would like to convey my empathy for I too face similar challenges.’ He gently prods Dark Shadow from within before continuing, ‘I do not have a conventional appearance. I do not look scary either, but Dark Shadow is, I have been told, a formidable presence.’

Dark Shadow peeks over Tokoyami’s shoulder and waves enthusiastically at Kirishima. The redhead breaks into a huge grin and returns the gesture with gusto, more than used to Dark Shadow’s appearance and antics. He really likes the guy.

‘I appreciate that our classmates have gotten used to us, and to him, but I also question how many civilians would like to be rescued by an individual with an ability like mine. I too would not like to add to their distress.’

Kirishima nods in understanding, the look in his eyes softening immeasurably.

‘I am unsure of how to help, but I would be happy to provide you with any moral support or even some simple company while you embark on this quest.’

Kirishima pats the spot next to him. ‘Sure thing Tokoyami, I really appreciate it man!’

Tokoyami nods and takes a seat on the floor. The two boys move to face each other, and Tokoyami spends the next half hour watching Kirishima engage his quirk, engage Unbreakable, and then struggle to soften his eyes.

He watches as Kirishima softens a cheek instead sometimes, watches as his forehead ripples uncertainly, watches his neck pulse with his quirk, and watches as his eyes sometimes go soft and warm. He encourages the best he can, celebrating the victories and pushing Kirishima to try once more when he fails. They burst into laughter more often than not, and it’s honestly a lot of fun.

Even Dark Shadow hangs around, somehow procuring pom-poms to celebrate and cheer.

When Kirishima finally calls it an evening, they get to their feet and start heading to the dorms.

‘If you require company, please do not hesitate to approach me. If I am able, it would be an honor to cheer you on and watch you succeed in this endeavor.’

Kirishima places a large, warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Tokoyami! I don’t practice it every day, but I’ll shoot you a text whenever I get the time to practice, and we can try to coordinate and make it work!’ He gives him his big sunshine smile. ‘Thank you for talking to me about it by the way, I really do feel a lot better.’

Tokoyami gives him another nod, and the boys walk back, enjoying the evening breeze and some light banter.

In the following weeks, Tokoyami and Kirishima swap messages and meet a lot more often. Tokoyami keeps tabs of his progress and gently pushes him to do better, and Kirishima laughs around with Dark Shadow when they take breaks. Sometimes they meet, decide they’re too lazy to quirk train and just watch old horror movies that leave Kirishima hiding behind Dark Shadow instead. Sometimes they listen to alt rock or do bicep curls. It’s a refreshing change of pace for both of them.

All their training does pay off though, sooner than they could’ve anticipated.

Aizawa brings Eri with him to hero training one day, and the young girl sits on a chair out of the way, watching with wide, amazed eyes. Aizawa stays close to her, watching over training with keen, knowing eyes. When he sees Kirishima doing some resistance training in Unbreakable form, he thinks of some pointers.

‘Riot!’

The redhead whips around to look at his teacher. Aizawa makes a come over here gesture with his hand, and Kirishima drops his quirk as he starts walking.

‘Come over here with your quirk engaged,’ Aizawa says. ‘You need to keep working on how long you can maintain your Unbreakable form, so don’t drop it right now.’

Immediately Kirishima engages his quirk and walks over to Aizawa, and every step is filled with the sharp sound of friction. Tokoyami watches as they talk, and he sees Eri looking at Red Riot with big wonderous eyes.

When they’re done chatting, Kirishima looks over at Eri. She flinches slightly, though no one can blame that on Kirishima’s appearance- Eri still flinches with most people.

Still, Tokoyami watches as Kirishima gets on his knees in front of her, still in Unbreakable form, and he sees Kirishima soften his eyes. They become liquid ruby, and he can feel the warmth almost from halfway across the gym.

He can’t hear what they say, but he sees Eri smile bright and even giggle, and he sees Aizawa appraising the situation with raised brows and an impressed sort of half smile.

Tokoyami gives Kirishima a pat on the back in his mind and bumps fists with Dark Shadow.

They all definitely have to celebrate later with some old horror movies and popcorn.

[bbygenya]

May i have sanemi, obanai, zenitsu, and tanjiro with an S/O who’s normally pretty similar to inosuke but has very frequent and easily triggered mental breakdowns where they knott and matt their hair terribly. Im so sorry if its too specific i just need comfort as i had one of these mental breakdowns received and i cant deal with it

hihi anon! sorry for getting back to you so late—I hope you're doing fine and feeling better! mental breakdowns suck >.< I'll still do the ask you've gifted with me, and I hope I interpreted it correctly? lmk though ☺️ pls take care of yourself and I'm here if you need me 💖

shinazugawa sanemi

🌪 » 😃

🌪 » sanemi honestly isn’t the most well versed with mental illness but is very understanding in regards to it

🌪 » but y/n runs his blood pressure up—side note

🌪 » it’s even worse when you link up with inosuke

🌪 » he’d rather bear hug giyuu then deal with this

🌪 » though surprisingly? he takes rlly good care of y/n

🌪 » even though he’s got a flip mouth, he means well and is genuinely concerned

🌪 » vvv gentle; handles you with the utmost care 💘

🌪 » honestly as much as y/n stresses him tf out, he’s very well equipped to help you manage your breakdowns?

🌪 » when he sees your hair starting to mat up and knot up, he tries not to let it get too bad

🌪 » “y/n, y/n— no, come on,”

🌪 » firm voice but gentle voice

🌪 » nemi is a sweetheart on god

🌪 » when you’re calm, he sits with you and gently starts to detangle your hair. carefully

🌪 » head kisses the whole time 🥺

🌪 » “I love you regardless. we’ll get through this. you’re not alone, and I’m not going anywhere.”

🌪 » SANEMI 😭😭😭

iguro obanai

🐍 » this fucking simp is ready to fucking fight you

🐍 » “y/n I swear to fucking god—”

🐍 » he’s fed up with his crackhead bby but loves you dearly

🐍 » loves you soooo much that he can’t cope with you having breakdowns 🥲

🐍 » as in it’s so starkly different from your personality and (as a simp) seeing you in distress sends HIM into distress

🐍 » slaps the internal panic button

🐍 » “deep breaths y/n”

🐍 » like sanemi this microscopic mf does NOT know what to do and will visibly hit the 🧍🏻pose REAL quick

🐍 » but one thing about obanai is that this man? will soften tf up so fast for you oh boy

🐍 » considering his own struggles with his mental health, his own breakdowns are not as severe (well to him) and though different, he understands what it feels like

🐍 » is really ready to fight whatever and whoever triggered it

🐍 » kaburamaru tries helping too 🥺

🐍 » helps you calm down

🐍 » after breakdown shower! together!

🐍 » frowns a bit seeing how your hair is matted up and kinked up with knots, so takes it upon himself to gently untangle

🐍 » “does it hurt? sorry, I’ll be more gentle.”

🐍 » okay but obanai is also vvv sweet 🥺

🐍 » cuddles after with kaburamaru + nap time

🐍 » he’ll also feed you after; food makes EVERYBODY feel better

agatsuma zenitsu

⚡️» 😃😃😃

⚡️» the two of you bicker a lot but playfully

⚡️» it’s always bad when you tag team with mf inosuke; that’s a powerful duo that zenitsu doesn’t have the mental stability to handle well

⚡️» speaking of mental stability

⚡️» zenitsu surprisingly handles mental breakdowns well?

⚡️» sure at the beginning he was a train fucking wreck but now he knows how to manage

⚡️» will deadass hug you in the middle of a mental breakdown; doesn’t care if you try to shove him away or get snot and tears all over him

⚡️» your pain = his pain

⚡️» as part of the simp squad, he literally swears he feels pain whenever you do

⚡️» he will hold your hands during your meltdown and kiss them, trying to help you breathe and get through it

⚡️» “come on, breathe my love. it’s okay, I’m here.”

⚡️» idk how he’s so good at this wtf

⚡️» afterwards, he’s very gentle; he’s surprisingly mature through it all

⚡️» “look, let’s get you situated and we can order food, okay?”

⚡️» will glue to your side the rest of the day to make sure you know hes there for you and to be on watch if you start up again

⚡️» you really annoy the hell out of him but god does he love you

⚡️» “your hair is so pretty y/n, let’s get all the kinks out of it,”

⚡️» does everything at your pace; tries to prevent the matting and knotting before it happens

⚡️» if he senses a breakdown on the horizon, he’s proactive and will braid your hair to keep it from getting all tangled and knotted up too badly

⚡️» tries his best 🥺

kamado tanjiro

☀️ » I saved the best for last tbfh

☀️ » too pure for this world

☀️ » sometimes he is >:| with you but is usually 🥰 when you’re not with inosuke wreaking havoc

☀️ » you’re his literal sunshine even when you’re sad

☀️ » this bby slaps the “big brother” mode when you’re not yourself

☀️ » he can smell a breakdown before it starts

☀️ » like zenitsu, he’ll hold you while you have your moment

☀️ » he gets so sad; just goes into comfort mode the whole time

☀️ » “it’s gonna be okay y/n. I love you; it’s okay to let it out.”

☀️ » damn I need a tanjiro when I have meltdowns too

☀️ » he loves your hair and feels bad when you knot it up during a meltdown

☀️ » though it frustrates him, he never raises his voice at you—he’s always gentle and sweet because he knows it’s a habit from you being in emotional distress

☀️ » holds your after too; just rocks you in his arms and reassured you you’re safe

☀️ » doesn’t want you to be ashamed of your meltdowns. at all.

☀️ » if your hair needs to be cut, he’ll help you cut it!

☀️ » it probably ends up fucked up let’s be real: so he has to take you to the salon

☀️ » overall tanjiro? he’s the sweetest, bestest bf

[dancingazaleas]

𖨆. 07 / all for us

summary: it feels as if god is blessing you personally when levi decides to spare you. but as the day goes on, you can’t help but notice things and ask questions, some of which you didn’t ask.

note: why was this chapter so hard to write

taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @stupid-stinky @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume @quacksonlover81 @gipumar

word count: +3.0k

warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of drinking and driving, vomiting, mentions of blood, mentions of ocd, the reader is confused

LEVI ackerman knew he wasn't a good person. he knew from the moment he watched his uncle slaughter a man in front of him at the age of eight.

levi knew the moment he killed a man for theft. he knew the moment people would cower before him in highschool when he'd walk through the halls. he knew the moment he was sucking the smoke from a cigarette into his mouth.

he knew the moment he found himself fighting police officers. he knew the moment he was pushed against the hood of a car with his hands cuffed behind his back.

he knew the moment when erwin smith sat down in front of him with no emotion written on his face. the moment when erwin said he knew levi had done it, but he would be defending him either way. the moment when levi disobeyed the oath as he spat out his testimony. the moment the gavel was slammed down along with the verdict of 'not guilty'. the moment he stepped into the sunshine, erwin's hand in his, for the first time in months, knowing damn well he didn't deserve it.

but levi didn't care, he never did. the world he was born into was cruel. he had to fight for his place at the top, for his food, for his clothes, for everything. if no one cared about him, then why should he care for others.

but as he stares down at you trembling from fear on the floor, he can't help but think that he's incorrect.

"please don't hurt me again," you plead in a whisper, tilting your head to the floor.

levi only sighs, walking in and shutting the door behind him. he crouches in front of you, hand now awkwardly stroking your head.

"what happened," he asks, and it's something that comes as a shock to you. you were slightly prepared for a beating.

you snap your head up to look at him in shock.

"what have you got in your hands," he points at the scrapbook held to your chest.

"oh!" you fumble to show him, "i saw this earlier... i wanted to look but i didn't think you'd allowed me. i'm sorry, please don't hurt me."

"i would've let you, i barely look at this thing anymore. can you tell me what happened now," he scoffs at the front cover of the scrapbook.

"when i was going to put it back, a book on the shelf fell. then another book on the top shelf fell off, so i used the lower shelves as a ladder. as you can see, it didn't work," you look ashamed while you gesturing towards the shelf.

he just huffs, "go sit on the couch. we can look through that book after i clean."

you obey and watch levi heft the bookshelf back onto its legs. his fists clench as he looks down at the pile of books surrounding his feet.

hastily, levi's picking up the books by the color and placing them back onto the shelf. when he's finished, he takes a step back to look at it. he's unsatisfied, instead more frustrated as he starts to take all of the books off of the second bookshelf he has.

but in the middle of taking the books off the shelf, he twitches and taps the book against the wood five times. he's putting the books back onto the shelf, going back to the other bookshelf and taking all the books off of that.

you stare in absolute bewilderment. the shelves had looked perfect and identical to you, not to mention clean. as he's in the midst of taking the books off the shelf, he taps the book against the wood again.

and with that, he's placing it all back onto the shelf again. he sighs in relief after he's checked everything, finally trotting to you and plopping down next to you on the loveseat.

nervously, you scoot closer to him in order for you both to be able to see the scrapbook. he watches you flip it open past his baby picture, instead turning to the page that showed his mother feeding him.

"that's my mom, kuchel," he gently rubs his finger on the photograph, "think i was around a year at this point."

humming, you flip to the next page. when you realize it's the picture of levi at his mother's funeral, you try to flip the page but levi stops you.

a sigh, he explains, "my mother always had a very weak immune system, according to my uncle. because of where we lived, we both ended up getting deathly ill and we were too weak to get any help. i had to watch her die and wait for someone to come check up on us."

"i'm assuming it was your uncle," you tilt your head.

"it was. he took me in afterwards, gave me food and a shower. he even taught me how to hold a knife and how to fight for future reference. he had some work to do while i would fight for food."

you point to the one of levi standing in front of a building. to which he replies with, "first day of kindergarten. my mother was still alive back then so she decided to take the picture."

he turns the page for you, a relieved look in his eyes at he stares at the next photograph. it's a picture of levi, in high school, wearing a tux while standing next to another man with a bubbly girl holding onto levi as she holds up a peace sign.

the boy, who's also wearing a tux, has ice blue eyes and wavy dirty blonde hair that obviously hasn't been styled. he's got a gentle smile on his face while he looks at both the girl and levi, someone who levi was obviously fond of.

the girl has dark red hair in low and loose ponytails with freckles painting her tan cheeks. her eyes shine an emerald green along with her pearly white teeth.

"that's... isabel and farlan. met them in 8th grade, and we were at junior prom in this. farlan took me as his date while isabel went stag. i'm glad i still have this picture."

you resist the urge to fight back the joke of his type in men, instead asking, "are you not friends anymore?"

levi stays quiet for a moment, "they died in a horrible car crash a month later. some asshole decided to drink and drive while driving a semi. rear ended them at 45 miles per hour and killed them on impact. isabel was slouching in her seat and farlan was hunched over the wheel apparently. it was gruesome."

"i.... i'm so sorry," you reluctantly touch his arm.

he waves his free hand up and down in dismissal, despite hurt he actually was, "it's fine. happened years ago."

he turns the next page in order to distract himself from the sheer awkwardness that bathes the room. the next picture is of him, around the age of 24, standing in the sunlight while he smiles softly to the sky.

"erwin was my attorney, before he became a prosecutor, when i went to jail. he proved me not guilty and this was the picture he managed to take of me right after we left the courthouse. it was the first time i'd seen the sun without handcuffs on in months," he huffs with slight annoyance at the memory, something that surprises you just a bit.

"why'd you get arrested?"

"nothing you need to worry about," telling you would only make you fear him more. and that would be a pain to deal with.

the next page after is blank, along with the rest that follow.

"i stopped because i thought it was stupid," he crosses his arms, nudging the back of the scrapbook with his knee.

"i don't think it's stupid," you shake your head, fingertips gently tracing the grainy and textured paper.

"why's that?"

"well," you smile a bit while your mind wonders to the scrapbook pieck made you one year for your birthday, "it shows you the good memories that you might've missed as the time passed. reminds you that there's something in every little small day. it helps you keep the memory alive, even if some of it is upsetting, and i think it shows how much you've changed as a person."

levi stares at you, slightly flustered at your words as you relook at the photographs with gentle hands.

he stands up, "i just remembered the tea." ah, a sound excuse. if only levi had made tea.

you watch as he seems to rush out of the room, something you shrug off while gently putting the scrapbook on levi's desk and laying back down on the couch. you play another movie on the television that hangs on the wall, perking up when levi walks back into the room with a tray. it holds finger sandwiches and some lettuce mixed with some fruit in a small bowl along with tea. cracked sunflower seeds sit on a small plate on the side, and you feel yourself droll when you realize at there's cheese, lettuce, and ham on your sandwich.

levi places it on your lap, simply nodding at your kind, "thank you, levi."

he doesn't answer and just goes back to his desk, while you chew quietly.

it stays that way until erwin comes home.

————

it isn't until your eyes are fluttering open that you realize you've fallen asleep. you flinch at the sight of erwin's face close to your's, but slowly relax when he pulls away.

"i'm sorry, i didn't think my kiss would wake you," he places a loving hand on your head.

"'s fine, probably needed to get up anyway," you reply groggily while rubbing an eye, "how long have i been asleep for?"

"levi said since a little bit after lunch. it's only three o'clock at the moment," he sits on the edge of the couch, smiling at how you shuffle to accommodate him.

"sandwiches must've been tasty.... did you just get off work," you sigh and snuggle up under the thin blanket that's been laid on top of you while you were sleeping.

erwin lays his large hand on your cheek, which has you tense for just a moment and then relaxing.

"i got off a little while ago but i needed to run errands," a thumb strokes at the apple of your cheek, something that you disgustingly find comfort in.

"where did levi go?"

"went to make himself some tea," he chuckles with a shake of his head, "he claimed that he felt withdrawals."

you shake your head while laughing, "i doubt he said that. how was work?"

"i guess i can say it was adequate. i missed you and levi the whole day, but would often get distracted by my clients and their necessities. i'm dealing with a kidnapping case at the moment. a girl around your age named ymir was recently found by her girlfriend, historia. i can't say anything more," he pulls his hand away from you and uses it to pinch the bridge of his nose.

you feel yourself get the chills.

he's.... working on a kidnapping case.

he's prosecuting.... a kidnapper.

he's punishing someone who's doing the same thing as him. someone who took away a girl and kept her trapped for months. god knows what the man did to the girl.

and here you are, letting erwin hold your cheek and looking through an old photo album with levi.

you feel sick to your stomach, shooting up while slapping a hand to your mouth and grabbing at her's shirt.

"i'm gonna throw up," you barely are able to speak without the feeling of your food coming out of your stomach.

startled, erwin stares, "what?"

"can... need a can," you gag and lean over the edge of the couch.

erwin gets up when he realizes just what it is you're asking for, rushing across the room only for you to spill your guts out onto the floor.

it's been forever since you've thrown up, minus when levi kicked your stomach, and it has your whole body shaking. the intensity of it all has your nose dripping with blood and tears falling from your eyes, forcing you to seal your eyes closed.

"what happened here," levi sounds scared as he stands in the doorway, but before erwin can even finish his sentence levi is slamming the door behind him while he storms out.

erwin sighs with frustration, helping you scoot down the couch so he can place the trash can in front of you without the bottom being dirtied. with shaky hands, erwin's pulling all of your hair out of your face while you sob and gag into the trash.

it's ten more minutes before you're able to lay back down. blood and tears stain your face and you dazedly stare up at the ceiling.

"i'll be back with a towel and some water, levi will be back soon with an avalanche of cleaning products," erwin reassurances while he stumbles out of the door.

just as erwin leaves, levi enters. he's got a mask that covers his nose and mouth and rubber gloves that match with his cleaning apron. he's carrying a sponge, some spray, a towel, a broom/dustpan, along with some breath mints.

levi squats on all fours, scrubbing at the floor aggressively as he rides the room of the stench and the stain.

"s... sorry," you croak and levi grimaces.

he ignores you in order to keep scrubbing at the floor just as erwin rushes in with a warm towel and some water. he wipes off your blood, tears, and the mouth to rid you of your vomit. you look at him dazedly as he helps you drink the water he's given you.

levi passes a few breath mints to you when you're done drinking the water, which you eagerly take. you plop them into your mouth, sighing as you rest back against the couch cushions.

"take her to her room," levi orders erwin while spraying the spray onto the floor and couch.

erwin does so in silence, carefully carrying you to your room and laying you on the bed.

"levi won't hurt me will he...? please tell me he won't," you grit your teeth while holding onto erwin's shirt sleeve, tears welling up in your eyes.

"no, he won't. he's just scared," erwin grabs the hand on his sleeve and holds it in his own.

"of what?"

"uncleanliness. a while after he started living with me, i took him to a psychiatrist as i had noticed strange behaviors. he ended up getting diagnosed with ocd, and the psychiatrist thought it had to do with his upbringing in poverty. if things aren't a certain way or clean enough, it causes him to spiral," erwin explains carefully, trying to find the correct words and meanings as he speaks.

"doesn't that... give him more of a reason to hurt me...?" you squeeze his hand tightly and pulling it closer to you in fear.

"it doesn't. why are you insistent at how levi might hurt you," he bunches his eyebrows up in concern while scooting closer to you.

"he's done it so many times before... remember? if i say the wrong thing... i'll get slapped. if i make a mistake, he'll beat me.. i just don't want to hurt anymore," you sob hysterically, bringing your free hand up to your face to cover your eyes.

erwin stares in bewilderment. he hadn't realized just how much levi's beatings effected you. of course, they were supposed to affect you in some way, but not enough where you were terrified of making a wrong move.

"he won't hurt you unless you've deserved it, and you've done nothing in a while. he loves you," erwin stroked his thumb across your skin.

you raise your hand from your eyes to stare at him, heat swarming your face, "he does? he doesn't act like it.."

"of course he loves you," erwin smiles, "i love you as well. we'd never hurt you unless given a reason."

something about his sentence makes your head throb in pain. maybe it was the secret confusion that lingered in your head. they said they loved you, even though they kidnapped you and beat you half to death. but then again, they did provide you with things you'd mentioned to them before in order to keep you happy. they even bought a grand piano for you.

it has your heart speeding up and your body hot, bashfully looking to the side.

you loved them back didn't you? they'd treated you with such care, hadn't they? bathing you, feeding you, dressing you, and even visiting you. anytime they were around you, your heart would speed up and you'd get a weird feeling in your stomach.

that meant love, did it not?

subconsciously, you furrow your eyes and grit your teeth. they didn't love you. they were just crazy.

well, maybe they weren't crazy, maybe just misled. you've yet to learn about erwin's past, but based on the way he acts, you assume that it might be a sensitive topic. that had to be the only logical solution, right?

but if they weren't crazy, they'd let you outside, right?

but then again, the outside world could be dangerous at times. when you went outside last time, you did get scuffed and bruised because of the concrete. maybe they just wanted to protect you? that had to be it.

you open your mouth to reply, but the sound of your door opening and closing has you slamming it shut.

"she's still crying," levi asks while walking closer, frowning at how you grip erwin's hand tighter.

"it's best if i let you and her speak about it," erwin says sadly, letting go of your hand and making his way to the door, "alone."

you gulp as soon as erwin shuts the door behind him, staring at levi anxiously. he plops himself next to your body, just like erwin did before.

"please don't hurt me..."

sighing, he lays himself down next to you and pulls you close to him.

"i'm not going to hurt you," he pulls your head into his chest and wraps his arms around you, "not unless you deserve it."

"but...," you quiver, "you were so angry earlier."

"i wasn't angry. i was just... nervous, i guess. and it wasn't at you, or because of you, it was at the mess."

a silence floods the room as you relax in levi's embrace, heat once again spreading to your cheeks.

"what made you puke? i know lunch wasn't that bad," levi grumbles while rubbing your back, arm slightly stiff.

"erwin... was telling me about his case. the one about the girl getting kidnapped...," you tense up again while levi sighs.

"why would he tell you that? i swear he's gonna end up shooting himself in the foot one day," he shakes his head, "you're not like that girl."

"how so..."

"we did it because we love you, not because we wanted to use your body," he scoffs, "surprised you think of us that lowly."

"n-no! i-i don't," you exclaim.

"i know, i'm just teasing. but don't doubt us like that. we want to love you and care for you, not use you," you trace your finger in a circle at levi's sentence, embarrassment washing over you like a wave.

"you love me?"

"yeah, wouldn't do what i did otherwise."

"i think..." you furrow your eyebrows, unaware of the slightly shocked expression of levi, "i think i love you too..."

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place. 

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.  

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.  

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't. 

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"  

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

[cosmiclatte28]

Forced Marriage II

Hello!! The awaited second part is here! Refresh memory here

Thank you so much for waiting and I promise, one more chapter and this trilogy is done. Also I already have the idea and ending, so it's going to be fast.

A/n : I cried in the middle of writing this. A bit too carried away by the emotion of explaining (y/n)'s abusive father. I cried like cried a lot and sobbed. Blew my nose and wiped my eyes but as I type tears keep falling (I hope I am not the only one crying)

trigger warning : character's death

tagging : @yutahoes @neopalette @swagmonsterofficial @byunniebaekhyunnie @huniehoeee

writing net : @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet

“Good morning Mam, is (y/n) awake?" Baekhyun greets the young lady watering the small garden on the front porch.

“Oh Baekhyun! What is it that makes you come early in the morning? And No she hasn't” your mother looks at the young energetic man in front of her. Memories flash by her eyes when she still remembers Baekhyun being the small cheerful boy from next door. Puberty does hit him well, your mother thought.

“Did you bump your head last time mam?” Baekhyun playfully asks, he knows your mother close enough to crack jokes and secretly your mother loves his playful jokes.

“Oh Baekhyun, you’ve never changed! Always the fun silly careless boy from next door. Now, I know you’re here to deliver milk right?” your mom takes a peek at the truck Baekhyun’s brother is handling.

Well the Byun family owns a farm and supplies milk and eggs to this town and the neighboring town. They’re a well known family for it.

“Do you mind if we get one more bottle? We have guests today.” Your mother takes out her wallet to pay for the milk and Baekhyun nods “We have plenty today! I’m glad your guest gets to taste this town’s best milk. Who is this lucky guest mam?” Baekhyun asks as he puts the milk down to the front patio.

Your mother comes back with some cash and gives it to Baekhyun along with a basket of fresh bread she just baked this morning.

“It’s your favorite bread. I see there’s a lot of deliveries today.” your mom smiles seeing the truck full of eggs and milks.

Baekhyun nods “Yes, business is doing good.”

“Oh about the guest, well he’s (y/n)’s future fiance. Hope you can meet him soon and be friends with him. He’s a nice guy, like you Baekhyunie.” your mother taps his nose like she used to when Baekhyun was nine.

Baekhyun’s smile falls when he hears “(y/n)’s future fiance.” what is this? Why has he never heard the news from you?

He has a lot to ask but his brother already honks the horn and Baekhyun comes back to his senses

“Come over for dinner or lunch next time Baekhyun!” your mother offers a polite invitation to the young lad and Baekhyun puts on his smile again as he bows “Thank you and I’ll see you soon mam.” he waves goodbye and jumps into the free seat next to his brother.

“Have a nice day you two!” your mother sends the Byun brothers off and descends to the kitchen with the fresh milk.

“Baekhyunie,” she sighs and hides a small smile “Always charming and sweetheart, some lady will be lucky to have him one day.”

--

Baekhyun’s brother hears everything, but he is not aware of the romantic feelings both you and Baekhyun share. He only knows the relationship between his brother and you is platonic.

“Look at (y/n), it’s like only yesterday their family moved in and both of you are so young. Running around carelessly, getting bruises from trying to climb trees, and woop she’s engaged now. When will you get a fiancee Baek?” his brother jokes around and wiggles his eyebrow to Baekhyun who only keeps his head on the road by the window

He sighs “I don’t know, why don't you get married first. You’re the brother here.” he scorns

You spend the day waiting for your neighbor’s head to pop up on the window but until lunch he’s not back yet. Your mother told you he’s away to the town and the neighboring town for the day but usually by afternoon they’re back. There’s nothing much for you to do since Sehun bid farewell and said he’ll return next week with the plans all ready and the wedding can happen soon. You don’t even have to buy a dress because your mother wants you to use hers, since its the tradition. You scoff in your mind, when do you ever have a chance to make a choice?

Even something as simple as what outfit to wear to meet someone, your mother won’t let you choose by yourself

Tea time makes you finally move your butt from sitting next to the window. His room window is still shut closed and the truck is still not home. Did something happen to them? Your worry disappears when the truck comes into your sight but you already got yourself dragged out of your room by your mom.

Baekhyun washes his body quickly and climbs up to his room after faking a smile to his parents. His brother is busy counting today’s revenue but Baekhyun opens his window and sits down only to stare at yours which was still open.

He can see your room, how the lights are on and he knows that means you were dragged out and you didn't have the chance to turn the lights off.

He sighs and closes his curtain, watching your empty room already makes it hard for him to breathe. What about the day when you will move into Sehun’s house?

Judging by his car yesterday, Baekhyun knows he is from the city and he is rich. Will Baekhyun be able to wake up in the morning knowing that the reason he wakes up everyday is now taken away from him? Not that he can actually say “taken away” since he never claims you as his.

You sit uncomfortably on your chair. Your father keeps on talking about this wedding. He doesn't even realize he’s indirectly saying “I am marrying you to Sehun just for the sake of my business so it won’t crumble down and you’ll live a good life after I die.”

Your ear burns with every single word your father rambles. Yes you grew up with his strict rules, you got hit several times but this… setting up your marriage and pressing on you to accept it as his last wish hurts the most.

“I don’t love Sehun.” you try to speak up your voice.

Your dad chuckles as he sips on his tea “I never said this marriage is based on love.”

You gulp and look at your mom with your red eyes. You’re ready to cry and scream here that you’re tired of your life being controlled but your mother shakes his head gently with a pleading look and you don't want to hurt her feelings so you keep your lips shut.

--

Life feels like hell after Sehun’s constant mail filled with questions of which flower you want, what color you want his tie to be and whatever useless question he asks (it’s useless because you don’t intend to bother thinking of which color or flower for a wedding you don’t want).

Since the day Sehun left, you’ve never met Baekhyun too and that is odd. Something about the way his window is always closed when you wake up, how he never pops his head randomly at the window, his constant busy days that you don’t hear any knock of pebbles on your window and the disappearing sunshine in your life.

Your wedding invitation is distributed already to everyone that’s within the inner circle and in your hand now lies one more invitation you can’t bring yourself to hand.

“Byun family” was written on the addressed invitation. You hold the invitation in your hand and almost drop it when your mother suddenly enters your room and questions you with “Whose invitation is that you’re still holding?”

You gulp “Baekhyun’s” your voice croaks and your mother nods.

“Why are you not giving it to them?” she sits down next to you and runs a hand on your hair.

“I haven't seen him and I want to give it to him.” you lie. Well to be honest, you’d rather have your mom deliver this to his mother but you need an excuse to meet Baekhyun and he’s been gone so you need to see him. At least see him before you are married to another man you barely know.

--

Early in the next morning, you wake up to the noise from the window. You open the blinds, looking to find the ruckus and that's when your eyes pop open. There you see Baekhyun jumping around the garden and his family are just smiling and patting his back. You saw a white envelope in his hand and you're trying to remember if he ever tells you about waiting any good news. No, Baekhyun never tells you anything. You open your window and pop your head out waiting for the happy man to notice you and maybe share the good news with you, but until he climbs into his room, he didn't spare you a glance and instead he's calling someone and you're sure that is Chanyeol.

You tried to eavesdrop but it's impossible despite the close distant, someone was using the blender downstairs. Annoyed, you toss some rock to his direction but it all doesn't hit him.

Now, you're mad. What made him ignore you, was it that carnival night incident? After that you never met him… so is that why he is still ignoring you?

You wave and try to get his attention, to which he completely didn't see. Alas, your mother calls you for breakfast and you have to go.

The sweet smell of waffles make you smile and lighten up your sour mood.

"What's the good news in Baekhyun's house?" You ask your mom when she looks like she knows something.

She smiles as she sips her tea "Oh didn't you hear? He was auditioning for a record company and well he sent his tape and he won the offer. The company wants him to move to the town this weekend and they will begin his contract and discuss his debut. Oh that Baekhyun!" Your mom wipes a tear that fell, as if he is her son and she is so damn proud.

Your father smiles "Good fella, he sure will make it big. I remember him singing in the town hall when he was eleven! Good vocal, good looks, easy personality. I think the company made a good decision."

Both your parents are so happy, but you… something inside your heart is furious. How come he never tells you about this, will he leave you? Leave you for a dream that might flop!

You hide your feelings during breakfast and after cleaning up, you sneak out to knock on Baekhyun's window.

The mischievous grin you memorize by heart appears in the window and he gladly opens it up so you can climb in.

"What makes you climb in my window?" He calmly asks. His stupid smile still there as if he didn't do any mistakes and he was surprised you are here.

You sigh "You lied."

He shrugs his shoulders "You lied first."

You scrunch your brow "What do you mean?!"

He sits down and you copy him "Well, you didn't tell me the truth that you are engaged."

You froze and he slaps your back "Guess my proposal last time wasn't good. Congratulations." He tried to joke it off but you are tearing up.

"Don't congratulate me. I don't know him and I don't love him."

Baekhyun sighs "It's father again isn't it?" He places a comforting arm around you and you bury your face in his chest. Crying your heart out and calming you down.

"I'm sorry honey, I couldn't propose wealth to your father and I couldn't even ask your hand for marriage with a diamond ring. I'm sure that lucky guy has so many to offer you." He rubs your hair but his words sting more and you punch him "I don't need that. I just want to be with you."

"Well, we can still be friends." He tries to hold his emotion back at the word friends.

"But I want you as my husband! I love you." You stare into his eyes and see his eyes smile "I just need to hear that. I also love you."

"And you are not telling me that you auditioned for that singing company!" You punch his chest again.

Baekhyun giggles "Sorry, I heard your mom said about the fiance and I was so sad and mad at myself for not claiming you first… so that made me send my audition tape because I thought that you're going to be his and it'll hurt me."

"So you're leaving me with that man. You run!" You let out a breather

Baekhyun bites his lips "Well, I have to chase my dream like you always said."

"My dream is to be a singer." Baekhyun stands up and shows you the acceptance letter.

You read it through the tears "This is so far away Baek."

"Well, but it's a step closer to singing in stage!" He stares at you with passionate energy in his eyes and you couldn't bring yourself to beg for him to just stay here and be your neighbor so you can at least wake up and see him and feel less bad.

"Now, I have to leave this Sunday. Do you want to spend the rest of the week with me?"

You nod and hide the invitation behind your back. No he shouldn't know that you're getting married. Let him think he is only your fiance that won't hurt him.

"It's Tuesday already, we have 5 days."

You wipe your tears and lock your eyes to the ecstatic boy.

"Later i will write songs about you! About our friendship and about our memories. I'll make money and I can get you that diamond ring and we can host a wedding you love! The simple one in a garden." He pretends he is walking down the aisle and you just want to disappear. No one should break his heart but if he must get his heart broken why must it be from you?

"So, (y/n) wait for me okay. Don't get feelings with this man."

You scoff, Baekhyun doesn't even know the man's name.

"And then one day I will return to you and we can live like our dream." He takes your hands into his and twirls you around the room. You laugh and giggle, feeling alive from the small action you missed.

He ends with hugging you and you wish so hard that life could change its path and you can be with Baekhyun.

"Congratulations Baekhyun!" You whisper

--

5 days. 5 days to Baekhyun's departure and 6 to your wedding.

Day 1, you rush your fitting and got to spend the afternoon walking to the rose garden near the forest.

Day 2, Baekhyun starts packing and you're using the chance to practice your wedding speech and your walk. The afternoon was spent together strolling around down town

Day 3, You had to pick the dress up and Baekhyun had to legalize some of his documents. You sneak to his rooftop that night, both of you just sitting and enjoying the starry nigh.

Day 4, You help him pack only for him to realize your body has bruises. He stops you from helping and folds your sleeves "What else did you do?"

You shake your head and unfold the sleeve trying to shake it off saying it's just a small problem but Baekhyun could see the fear in your eyes and he knows you're lying.

"Wait for me, I'll save you. I promise." He pulls you into a hug and for the first time, you press a deep kiss into his lips.

Day 5, You hand him the invitation and you're glad you kissed him last night because right now all you can see is your feet and how Baekhyun's hand trembles. His hair hides his eyes but from the way his lips shake and his body shakes, you know he is furious and disappointed at you.

"I am sorry." You whisper

"Why not sooner." He asks, his voice so bitter and dry. His eyes still avoid yours.

"I want to spend my time with you before you go."

"But why you keep this invitation until today?!" His voice cracked and you cried. This time, he doesn't console or calm you down. He lets you cry alone

He closes the invitation "You could've given me sooner and I won't be promising you all those dreams. Now I sound like the jerk who made promises to a girl who will be married in two days! Grow up (y/n)! If I knew this-"

You cut him off "If you knew this, you'd avoid me Baek! And I wouldn't want to waste my precious 5 days to be with you. Heck who knows if this might be the last time we see each other." You're furious too and Baekhyun shakes his head "What are you talking about. We're adults! I'll definitely accept the news like a mature man. I won't give you the silent treatment."

You scoff "You would. I know you Baekhyun."

"And if you know me… do you know that because you did this, i am now so i don't know… i'm " he pauses

"You hate me?" You ask that

He shakes his head and stomps his leg "I love you okay! But this is not right! I'll. You know what?" He couldn't speak right and couldn't think straight

"This will make my departure easier. You do know artists cannot date and I'll be busy. Well, now I won't have the reason to think about you and our dream. You're going to be with him forever and i? I will be the fool who didn't know you're already someone else's. Goodbye. And congrats."

"No Baekhyun. Please, sorry. I cannot do anything!"

"Yes I know. You're just too afraid of everything your father said. You can't fight for yourself and oh I'm tired okay! If you told me earlier, we could think of a way to stop this. But now it's too late! I'm leaving tomorrow and your wedding is ready! Don't make yourself an embarrassment by canceling the date. Go, live your silver spoon life. Goodbye (y/n) it was nice knowing you."

Baekhyun steps inside his house, closes the door and you're there staring at the floor, eyes still wet.

He's right . It's too late.

You force yourself to go home and well, you didn't even get to send him a proper goodbye.

--

Baekhyun just left like that, with a simple goodbye from the window and he’s gone. You are also preoccupied by the busy preparation for the big day tomorrow that you don’t have time to ask Baekhyun about his arrival or well updates.

While drowning in the sadness of losing Baekhyun, your best friend, your love, and your dream, you have no soul left when you have to recite the vows. The wedding bells deafen your ears, the smile from the guests blind your eyes and when Sehun kisses your lips, your tears fall because Baekhyun’s right everything is too late to be fixed.

You’re glad Sehun didn’t force you to sleep with him on the first night. He respects your decision and you sleep peacefully that night, mostly because you’re tired of thinking and the day is tiring.

Your morning wasn’t any difference than before, despite living in a house not far from home, you didn’t feel any difference. Well, Sehun is as stoic as your dad, his morning is filled with coffee, newspapers, and him checking his agenda.

“We will be busy this week, your dad wants to move the company ownership to us, you will follow me to the office. Go dress up smart and I’ll see you in the car an hour from now, is that enough?” he asks and you nod.

The maids here clean up the table as Sehun leaves to fetch his documents and working bag and you just hope Baekhyun will reply to any of your texts.

The paperwork takes your whole one week, office paperworks, house ownership, marriage legalization and well with your father’s health deteriorating it’s been hard for everyone to keep signing papers when father is in the hospital. Your father has already prepared his last wills and all beneficiaries.

You finally get news from Baekhyun’s mother saying that he already signed the contracts and the company loves him and wants to make a great debut for him. He’s preparing to write songs and he is arranged to debut in two years if he is good.

One month after being Oh Sehun’s wife, you begin to see a difference in your husband’s attitude. Yes he can be a caring man, his cold facade is slowly gone, but the sly look in his face is still there. You don’t know what but something in your guts say that this is just the calm before the storm. Your father’s condition gets worse and the hospital announces that he will probably have months left. You take turn with your mom in looking after dad. He’s in the bedroom lying down half alive, the machines keep his heart pumping and the oxygen tube in his nose forces oxygen into his lungs. You feel bad for him, despite all the pain you grew up with, your dad was a responsible person who never leaves you and your mom.

“I am sorry (y/n) for being a bad father. I hope you forgive me and I hope your future will be good.” he said that one afternoon when he saw you crying on his side. You were crying because you were telling him your heart about how he hurts you but he was trying his best for his family.

“I am sorry I cannot be your ideal daughter.” you hold his hand and he smiles weakly, “You’re all I would ask for. I love you and mom so much but I’m just so bad am I not? I hit you a lot.”

You cry harder, “It was because you care about me.”

He shakes his head “I shouldnt have been that hard. You’re a flower after all, we need to handle you with care”

“But you trained me to be a warrior dad. And whatever storm I will face one day, I will be thankful that you beat me as a kid so that I won’t just cry and accept fate if things go wrong.”

Your father lets another tear fall “I hope you don’t have to experience that time, but if you have to, I know I prepared you well.”

You hold into his hand tighter “I forgive you dad. Do you forgive me?”

He smiles “I never hate you love, I always forgive your mistakes every night before I sleep. I just have to punish you so you know that everything comes with consequences.”

You nod “I’ll remember that, how are you feeling dad?”

He coughs “Feeling like a sinner confessing his sins, but I’m glad I have time to tell you this.”

You kiss his hand and he takes a deep breath. “Be happy my flower, use the wealth for good stuff, and always help others. Remember that everything takes process.”

Your mom comes into the room and when the golden sun rays kiss your dad’s face, he glances to you and your mom. His sincere smile blooms and both you and your mom hold his hands, he takes one deep breath “My job here is done, I love you both.” he lets a big exhale and there goes your father. A great man who just can’t express his love in the best way.

Come to think of it, he is always coming home whenever he can. He tries to go home fast so he can eat dinner together. He only starts breakfast when all the chairs are filled. He taught you how to use a screwdriver, he taught you chess so you can beat your nosy friends. He helped you ride your bike. He’s the one who pays all of your living cost and not for once has he made you worried about what the family will eat for today. When life wasn’t as easy as this, he made sure you can still get a new dress on special days and he tries his best to bring you to the circus tour. Wealth came to your father when he was old and you were a young adult, and now he doesn’t have the time to enjoy it too much but he gave it all to you.

Baekhyun trained so hard day and night. His will and desire to be an artist beat all of his homesickness and exhaustion. He always appears in the training room with a big smile even though he has to go home half asleep. The company loves his attitude and promises a lot of good things for him. The boy just smiles, saying he’ll be happy as long as his dream of being an artist comes true. He heard about your dad’s death from his family and actually came home to join the funeral. He saw you but you were too sad to notice him and so he disappeared the next day. He noticed you moved back into your mother’s house because you don’t want her to feel alone. Sehun lets you do that, and because your mom insisted Sehun to also stay there, now the three of you live under the same roof.

Two years after your father’s death, Baekhyun has his debut. Well, it has to be delayed because the company saw that it’s going to be better to debut in Summer than in Fall. His hard work paid off when you finally see his name rising in charts and appearing in music shows. His hair is no longer boring, it’s painted silver white and you never think Baekhyun will look hot as an old man, but here you see him looking so handsome and lively as he finally gets to sing on a stage for thousands of audience. He was labeled as the successful rookie and he’s been offered a lot of advertisements and special appearances. You’re happy whenever you hear the town people talk about his name, or when the radio turns on his song. You missed him, you always text him but he rarely replies.

Everything seems going according to plan, but your guts were right. Those days were just the calm before the storm.

To be continued….

“(Y/n), come to the hospital now.”

“(Y/n) a package is here for you.”

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises. 

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

--

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs. 

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.” 

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.” 

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch. 

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually. 

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.” 

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.” 

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--” 

“You know he hated it.” 

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it  better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better. 

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?” 

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk. 

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.” 

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.” 

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.” 

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it. 

Maybe I do need a drink. 

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less. 

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced. 

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.” 

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--” 

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again. 

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.” 

“We can’t even see Inej.” 

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.” 

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.” 

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.” 

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy. 

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?” 

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.” 

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply. 

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.” 

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.” 

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.” 

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.” 

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.  

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.” 

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.” 

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.” 

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.” 

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones. 

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.” 

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand. 

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him. 

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay. 

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him. 

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem. 

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here. 

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.” 

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.” 

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive. 

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.” 

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.” 

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.” 

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.” 

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.” 

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--” 

“Who what?” Finally--progress. 

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way. 

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.” 

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.” 

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.” 

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.” 

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs. 

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.” 

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.” 

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.” 

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I frown freely, “Kaz--” 

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--” 

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel. 

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.” 

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love Is Not Over (1)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids, 

Warnings: Don’t know if this counts but mentions of accidental pregnancies and shitty men. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

“Congratulations! It’s a boy.” 

“I-Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s very healthy. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Yunho.”

“A very nice name.”

“Oh, he’s beautiful.”

“That he is. I apologize for asking, but you haven’t listed the father on his birth certificate yet.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.”

“You’re aware what that means, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, Ms. L/n, I’ll leave you be now. Press the button if you need assistance. A midwife will be coming to see you shortly.”

      “Eomma, wake up!” A giggly voice called. The bed was bouncing up and down, pulling me out of my slumber. I couldn’t help but laugh along. “All right, Yunnie, I’m up.” Yunho chuckled and lent down to give me my morning hug. “Good morning, Eomma.” He sighed, his fluffy blonde tail wagging in content. “Good morning, lovely. Did you sleep well?” I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him in for a snuggle. “Yes! I had a dream about giant squirrels!” He exclaimed. I let out an exaggerated gasp, “You did?! That’s awesome.” 

      Yunho wiggled out of my grasp and bounded towards my bedroom door. “Come on, Eomma! I’m hungry.” I chuckled and got out of bed. “Alright, waffles or toast?” I asked while I grabbed my sweatshirt, pulling it on. “Waffles!” Yunho answered, racing downstairs to the living room. I smiled to myself, I couldn’t help the warmth in my heart every time I saw my son. 

     Yunho had short hair that matched mine in color. He also had my eyes. I could see little pieces of myself in his face and it always made me smile. I didn’t pay attention to the features he and his father shared, even if they weren’t many. The most prominent feature they shared being his ears and tail, but somehow, Yunho made them uniquely his. 

      He never like getting his fur cut, would always sulk about it afterwards, he likes to keep the fur on his tail long so either him or I could braid it. He thought braids were so pretty, so he would ask me to braid all of his hair, and eventually, he learned himself. His fur on his ears was less long because of my insistence that having heavy ears would impair his ability to lift them. He could lift his left ear, but not the right one. He’s been working on that. 

      So, even if he was his father's child, he was still just Yunho to me. That man didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Yunho has his button nose or freckles. It didn’t matter because Yunho was Yunho, and Yunho was the light of my life. He would run around the house non stop, bring me little rocks he found in the yard, draw pictures that had a special place on the fridge. Yunho was sunshine incarnate, and I couldn’t ask for a better son. 

      Downstairs, Yunho was sitting in front of the T.V, watching his favorite cartoon. It was about this hybrid boy and his best friend, who was human. Yunho said it was like him and I, that we were like the characters on screen, going on adventures every day. The sight made me smile yet again, and I went to the kitchen to get started on breakfast.  

     I could see Yunho from the kitchen since it was an open plan. Which wasn’t surprising because we lived in a small house. 2 bedrooms, 1 and 1/2 baths. It had a very large backyard that merged into woods. The area is pleasant, a little secluded, but that just gave Yunho more room to explore. The house got a lot of natural light with the large windows, and the air was always refreshing. 

      When I first saw the house, it was like a blessing. It was a little run down, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and it was cheap. A house being cheap should be a red flag, and it was, but it was worth it. The worst problem the house had was the hot water that ran out pretty quickly. In no way was it a luxurious mansion, but it was home, and that was all that mattered. 

     “Yunho! Come get your breakfast!” I called, placing his bright blue plate on the small dining room table we had. I heard his feet patter on the hardwood as he ran to the dining room. “Woah! Slow down, bub.” I chuckled. Yunho gave me a shy smile and sat down, immediately digging into his breakfast. “Is it good?” I teased, wiping away some stray syrup that threatened to end up in his hair. Yunho nodded enthusiastically, giving me a thumbs up. 

      We ate together with comfortable banter. Yunho was telling me about the latest episode of his cartoon, and I was more than happy to listen. The way his eyes lit up whenever he talked about something he loved was enough to make the toughest of men smile. “Eomma, can Hajun come over today?” Yunho asked in a hopeful tone. I thought about it for a bit, “I’ll call Aunt Hyejin and see if he can, okay?” Yunho brightened up and gave a little “okay!” In response.

     After we were done eating, Yunho put his plate in the sink and went back to watching T.V. I washed up the dishes and dialed Hyejin’s number. “Hey babe!” She answered in her usual cheery voice. I chuckled, “Hey sis.” 

      In reality, Hyejin wasn’t my sis or babe, but we were close like that. Hyejin was a Siamese cat hybrid that I met back in college. We were roommates, and we just clicked immediately. We were there with each other through everything. Shitty professors, family issues, breakups, shit men that make your life a living hell. She had her son, Hajun, a bit before I had Yunho, and helped me whenever I needed. 

      She and her husband, Yoongi, a Persian cat hybrid, were there with me through it all. They were the family I never had. Yoongi was like an overprotective older brother, and Hyejin was no different. They even helped me find Yunho and I’s home. We normally went on family trips to amusement parks or aquariums which the boys never seemed to get bored with. We were all one big happy family. 

     Yoongi and Hyejin were like polar opposites. Yoongi was chill while Hyejin was a bundle of never ending energy. Yoongi was quiet Hyejin loved to talk. Yoongi was an introvert, and Hyejin constantly dragged him out to parties that Namjoon, one of our mutual friends, had mentioned to her. It was funny to witness. Especially when Yoongi begged me to go in his stead, which worked 50% of the time.

      “So, what d’ya need? I’m all ears.” She snickered, and I could practically see her gray ears twitch. “Haha, hilarious. Yunnie wants to know if you guys can come over.” I answered. “Yeah, sure! We’re not doing anything today and I’ve been dying to talk to you about something.” She gushed. “Ooo, exciting.” I chuckled. “I’ll see you soon, babes. Love you!” I said I loved her back and hung up the phone. 

     Soon, Hyejin and Hajun arrived and the boys immediately began playing together. “Hey! So nice to see you!” Hyejin smiled, giving me a hug. “You too!” I was equally just as happy to see Hyejin since she and Yoongi had been a bit busy lately. We walked over to the living room where the boys were playing on the floor with their toys. Hyejin and I sat on the sofa and she immediately began talking. 

      “Okay! So, I’ve been dying to talk to you about this,” She started, already bouncing in her seat. “I can see that.” I teased, poking at her shoulder. “You know the job I was looking into? The daycare one?” She asked, and I nodded. “Well~ I got the job!” She exclaimed. My jaw dropped, a smile made its way onto my face. “No way! Congratulations!” I got up and squeezed her in a bone breaking hug, which she reciprocated. 

     “I know! I’m so excited!” Her tail was flicking behind her. “So, when do you start?” I asked, moving back into my seat. “Next week! I’m going to be the second teacher, helping someone named Mr. Jung.” She explained, and she went on to tell me how she got the job and how Hajun had asked if he could go, only to pout when Hyejin told him that he was too old. “I’m happy for you, Hyejin.” I smiled, excited that she was pursuing her dream of working with kids. 

      Hyejin, like me, got pregnant young and unexpectedly. But she was super thrilled. She didn’t care if she was only 20, she always wanted a child. She wasn’t married at that time, but Yoongi stepped up pretty quickly to raise Hajun with Hyejin. Yoongi was a cool dad, pretty laid back. Usually snuck the kids out to go get ice cream or pizza. Not that Hyejin or I minded, he treated both boys with the utmost care. He treated Yunho like his own son. 

      “So, have you met this Mr. Jung?” I wondered. “Not yet, but I had a phone call with him. Guess what? He’s our age.” She whispered, like what she was saying was some big secret. “Hyejin, we’re both 26, it’s not like a young teacher is unheard of.” I pointed out. “I know! But... What if he’s cute~?” She raised her eyebrows in a teasing manner, leaning closer to me. “I could be cupid.” She winked and I rolled my eyes. 

      “No thanks, Hyejin. I appreciate it, but love for me ended a long time ago.” I sighed and Hyejin huffed, dramatically slouching in her seat. “Y/n, just because... he... broke your heart doesn’t mean you should give up entirely.” She pointed out, looking at me with eyes full of undecipherable emotions. “Any man I date would have to be okay with being a father-like figure to Yunho. I’m 26 Hyejin, no guy my age wants kids yet.” I monotoned. 

      I had come to terms with the fact that most men didn’t want to date someone who already had a child. Not saying that it didn’t dishearten me a bit, but it was a revelation I made early on. If someone wanted me, they were going to want Yunho too. It either both of us, or neither of us. 

Yunho was my light, and he deserved a father that could be the things I couldn’t.