#still picking out the roof rack

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the shy bunny and the rowdy cat Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Final

Ateez Seonghwa X Wooyoung X Reader

Owner Seonghwa X Cat hybrid Wooyoung X Bunny hybrid Reader

Genre and warnings: poly relationship (no mxm, just with the reader) hybrid, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, heavy themes, mature language, happy ending

Word count: 6.2k

You thought you had run out of options. It was pouring outside, and a couple of aggressive dog hybrids made you move from your favourite spot behind the mall. There, you managed to make yourself a little living space. Being a stray wasn't easy, and life loved to remind you from time to time. Luckily, there seemed to be a little bench in front of a small bakery. The roof did enough to cover you, so you'd be good for the night. What you didn't expect was to be confronted by another hybrid - this time a cat. You were expecting the worst, making a new friend wasn't on your mind at all.

"Are you cold bunny? I can get my owner to make you some hot chocolate?"

This will probably be a two-part imagine, maybe three if I feel like it needs it. Stay tuned for the next update!

Lots of love, and happy reading X

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Life hasn't been easy in the past couple of months. You ran away from your previous home after the owner nearly beat you unconscious. He didn't give much shit about you, so he hasn't even tried looking for you.

You suppose it was your fault. At the end of the day, he wanted a cute, shy bunny to play with, and you were the complete opposite. Although now your self confidence went down drastically, and you remained a shell of what you once were.

Five months ago you were in a shelter, having fun with your fellow hybrids, when Jisung came. He looked and smelled nice, and you instantly gravitated towards him. The workers at your shelter told him you were quite confident, and you knew how to take care of yourself. You were the tiniest one in the litter, so you had to toughen up over the years.

It didn't take long for him to change his approach towards you. The first month went smoothly, but then he became more aggressive. Pets on the head became slaps on your cheek, food had to be earned, and you could only wear the clothes he bought you. No, there weren't pretty dresses and your favourite soft jumpers. There were only tight mini skirts and revealing tops. You were hungry, cold, tired and emotionally drained. It's not like you didn't try to fight back. Truly, you did. However, the amount of force he would use soon made you cower away.

One day, about two months ago, he left for a work trip and told you to stay put. He would be back by the end of the day, and you were to wait patiently. Maybe he was careless, maybe he even wanted you to run, because he left the key to the front door beside the shoe rack. It was a bit hidden, but your keen senses managed to help you find it. You dressed in the warmest clothes you owned, and out the door you went.

People on the street took pity on you, so they often gave you food, and sometimes even a warm blanket. You wish you knew the way to the shelter, but you were a lost cause. Some nights you cried yourself to sleep, others you ran until your feet hurt because the other stray hybrids weren't as nice as you thought.

You made yourself comfortable behind a closed mall, with a makeshift bed and a slight roof over your head. It was still early fall, and you had some time to think about what you were going to do in the winter. There was no chance to survive in the cold, with you being a bunny.

Your thoughts were interrupted when three stray dog hybrids made their way in front of you and your small shelter.

"Hey rabbit! Move, now."

"I-I'm a bunny."

The biggest of them scoffed before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

"We do not care. Move it bitch!"

He threw you to the floor just as the rain started picking up. You had no other choice but to run, and you had no clue where you were going. You could still hear them laughing at you, and your eyes filled with tears. This was going to become an everyday thing for you now. Maybe you should have just stayed by Jisung's side. That way you would have had a warm bed at least, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

You tried running faster as the rain came pouring down, but you were too distracted by your own thoughts. It seemed like the street had no end.

Just as you were about to crouch down and give up, you saw a little bench in front of what seemed to be a bakery. The lights were off, and the roof covered the bench just enough to shelter you from the rain. Exhausted, you crashed onto the seat and pulled your knees towards your chest. You were freezing at this point, your thin rain soaked sweater doing a piss poor job at keeping you warm. You made peace with your destiny for tonight, and you were about to close your eyes and huddle into yourself when you heard the door beside you open.

"Oh! Hello there! I could smell you from inside you know? Your anxiety is freaking me out!"

Your eyes went wide, ears flat against your head. There stood a man, a hybrid it seemed, with his hands on his hips and a grin on his face.

"So, what are you doing here? It's pouring out there, you should go home! My hyung would be really mad at me if I stayed in the rain like this. And where is your jacket? Does your owner not make you wear one? I swear Hwa would have a heart attack if I went out without one!"

He seemed to be energetic. It's when you noticed the black cat ears on top of his head. They blended in with his dark hair, so it took you a minute. The cat hybrid continued ranting while you sat there almost speechless.

"Do you talk? You know how to, right? I know bunnies can be afraid, but hey I'm cool! I can be your friend you know? Hwa likes it when I make friends because then I don't bother him all day long. Hey, let's be friends!"

He rushed towards you and it made you freak out. Before he could reach the bench you stood up, stumbled on your clumsy feet and landed on your ass in front of him. The cat was taken aback, and he froze when he saw your hands covering your head, your shoulders shaking from fear.

"Oh... Sorry bunny. I don't... I just wanted to sit next to you..."

He slowly crouched down to your level, balancing his elbows on his knees.

"I'm Wooyoung. I'm a black cat. Hwa says I'm usually too straightforward, and I can see it now. What's your name?"

You still held your hands above you, only letting out small sniffles. It took everything in you not to cry, but you were barely holding on.

"Okay... You don't have to tell me yet. But hey..."

He shuffled a bit closer, but you didn't have it in you to move again.

"Are you cold bunny? I can get my owner to make you some hot chocolate?"

Hot chocolate? You haven't had anything sweet in a while. The offer was tempting, but you were still afraid. What if he was just saying that to lure you in?

Wooyoung cleared his throat.

"Or maybe... I can get you one of his carrot cakes? How's that?"

Oh my... A carrot cake? Why did he have to offer that? The thought of a carrot made your mouth go dry. The last time you had one was months ago, and you loved carrots.

You slowly lowered your hands and peaked at him. He was still crouched down, and he didn't attempt to move closer. You had to give it to him, he was persistent. Looking better at his face, he was handsome as well. The little mole under his eye was cute. He smiled when he noticed you were checking him out, and he slowly shuffled forward.

"Hmm... Carrot cake it is. Wait here, don't go, I'll be right back!"

He was up and running inside in a flash, and it gave you a moment to breathe.

Maybe he really wanted to befriend you?

You hit yourself on the forehead.

Was a carrot cake enough to make you dumb? Have you not gone through hell? Before you could dwell on it for too long, he was back.

"Okay, I managed to get you not one, but two pieces! It's a special cake for little bunnies like you! My Hwa loves making treats for hybrids. Come on, dig in!"

He left the pink plate with the cakes and a spoon on the bench, sitting down in front of you. Wooyoung didn't want you to feel scared, so he thought it was best to be eye level. It bothered you to see him cross legged on the cold concrete, the rain wetting his pants.

"Don't... Don't cats hate water?"

His eyes went wide hearing your soft voice. He started nodding frantically.

"Yeah, we do. But you can't be the only one getting wet. What's a little water, am I right?"

You glanced at the plate again, too afraid to reach for it. Wooyoung noticed, and he picked up the spoon, extending it over to you.

"Come on. You must be hungry. I don't like carrot cake, you can have it all to yourself."

Your eyes stayed fixated on his hand holding the tiny spoon. Should you go for it? You were hungry, tired, and frankly if he wanted to do something bad, he had many chances.

Slowly, your hand reached out, and Wooyoung smiled. He clapped when you finally took the spoon in your small hand.

"That's it! Good job bunny. Now, dig in!"

Oh well, here goes nothing. Just as you put the utensil in the soft, creamy cake, the door to the shop opened again.

"Wooyoung! Where the hell did you run off to with my plate! You don't even like..."

You stood up quickly, dropping the spoon from your hands and backed up a few steps.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I won't eat, here!" Your voice trembled with fear, hands held up in the air so that he could see you weren't taking anything.

"Oh damn it Hwa! She was about to take a bite!"

Wooyoung stood up as well, going over to this Hwa person. He was a young man, with long blonde hair tied in a small ponytail. He was frozen in place until Wooyoung hit him on the shoulder. If you ever did that, you'd be beaten until you couldn't stand, but the man didn't even blink.

"So... I assume the cake is for her?"

"Yes! I was about to make a new friend, and look, now you scared her!"

The boys glanced at you, shivering, hands still in the air. The blonde man cleared his throat.

"I apologize for that. I'm Seonghwa, and this is my naughty, obnoxious, loud..." - "We get it!"

Seoghwa covered Wooyoung's mouth with his hand.

"- hybrid Wooyoung. What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Hey how come you've told him your name right away but you didn't wanna tell me?"

You had no answer to Wooyoung's question. Honestly, you were too afraid not to answer, because two against one was a losing battle.

"Calm down Woo, look at her. The poor thing is terrified. Hey, Y/N, please, help yourself with the cake. It's all yours."

Not a chance. The whole ruckus had to stop, or you would faint from fear.

"I don't want it. I'm sorry, can I please go now? I won't come back, I promise. Please, just... Let me go."

Both men looked at you with a sorrowful expression, and Seonghwa quickly realised what they were dealing with. If your freaked out stance wasn't a giveaway, it was the lack of suitable clothes for this weather, and your dirty bunny ears. Wooyoung was a bit oblivious sometimes, so he probably didn't figure it out. you were definitely a stray, and by the looks of it, you were having a tough time.

Seonghwa pushed Wooyung behind him, fixing him with a stare before the cat opened his mouth to complain. They had to do this carefully.

"Say Y/N... Do you live around here? Does your owner know you are away from home?"

They're not going to send you back to him, right? They wouldn't do that? I mean, you could explain it, but would he believe you? What if you just say you were out on a stroll? Maybe they will let you leave peacefully?

"I-I... M-My home..."

It took one pleading look from Wooyung to make you break down.

"Please don't send me back! I swear I will never come close to your shop, just please don't make me go back!"

Tears were starting to slide down your cheeks, and the men felt crushed. There you were, an incredibly cute bunny hybrid, all alone in the cold. You were so afraid of going back home you were shaking. Wooyoung felt miserable looking at you. He had his Seonghwa, a bed, food, shelter from the storm...

He didn't know what to say. For the first time in forever, he was speechless.

His brain, however, worked overtime. It clicked.

"We can take you with us! Right Hwa? She can come with us?"

You froze, tears still falling down, and looked wide eyed at Wooyoung. Seonghwa's mouth dropped open, and he turned towards his hybrid.

"Wooyoung! You can't just say that." The cat grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Please Hwa! Look at her! We can't leave her like this." He pushed him away and rushed towards you. His arms went around you, and you tried breaking free, but he was much stronger than you.

"Wooyoung, let the poor thing go! You're scaring her!"

Seonghwa tried prying his hands off you, but to no avail. He wasn't letting go, and your tears weren't letting up.

"I'm so tired... Please, just let me go..."

You stopped shaking after feeling his warmth, and you honestly haven't felt it in so long you almost forgot how it was.

The men noticed you were calming down slowly, and Seonghwa was at a crossroad.

"Please Hwa, look at the poor thing."

Seonghwa sighed. He hated when Wooyoung was right, but he had to agree with him. They couldn't let her stay outside in this condition. She was clearly frightened, cold, and who knows what she's been through.

"Y/N... Do you want to come with us? We can give you some real food, and a warm bed. Wooyoung won't mind sleeping on the couch tonight, is that right?"

Wooyoung loved his bed, and he hated sharing it, but he didn't even think twice before answering.

"Yes! You can have my bed, and my fuzzy socks. I will even give you my favourite blanket. It has kitties all over it."

Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh. His hybrid was one of a kind, and he loved him for it. They watched the poor bunny as she slowly looked up from Wooyoung's chest.

"C-Can I? I-I promise I'll be gone tomorrow."

"What? No! You're not going anywhere!" She looked up at the cat, and he was almost offended by her statement.

"Come on now, we'll talk about it tomorrow when you're rested. Woo, let the poor girl go now, you'll suffocate her." He tried prying his hands off the bunny, but to no avail.

"She doesn't mind, right? Stop trying to separate us!"

"A-Actually, you're kind of making it hard to breathe."

Seonghwa gave Wooyoung a hard look, and he reluctantly let go.

"Fine, but I'm hugging you again later. You're really soft."

You swayed on your feet a bit as his arms let go. It was obvious you were tired, so Seonghwa rushed inside to pick up his things and lock up. Meanwhile, Wooyoung took the plate and spoon in his hands. He smiled at you, offering it again.

"It would be a shame to let it go to waste, we'll take it home with us."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. The thought of cake made you a bit sick at the moment.

Before Wooyoung could start blabbing again, Seonghwa came out with his bag and locked the door behind him.

"Okay, we're all set. Our apartment is just around the corner, are you okay to walk? We have an umbrella, you and Wooyoung can share it."

He handed over the large yellow umbrella, but Wooyoung quickly shook his head.

"I don't need it, give it to her." His owner's eyes almost bulged out of his head. The cat hated getting wet. He must really like you if he was willing to get drenched for you. Seonghwa watched as his hybrid wrapped his red sweater around your shoulders, careful not to scare you again. He then opened the umbrella and made sure you had a good grip on it before turning to Seonghwa and gesturing that they should go.

They made their way down the street, not exactly rushing because they knew you probably couldn't go very fast. Seonghwa was a bit lost in thought.

Wooyoung has been in his life for almost three years now. They were both young when Seonghwa adopted him from a shelter. He didn't like how people treated hybrids, because at the end of the day, they were still part human. He decided he would find himself a companion, someone to share meals with, talk, and have fun. He was a nurturing person, so the prospect of taking care of someone came naturally for him. Wooyoung was a firecracker from the start. He didn't hide his rambunctious personality, and he always kept Seonghwa on his toes. They had a strong bond, and everybody in Seonghwa's life adored the lovely black cat. When he opened up the bakery two years ago, Woo insisted on being the first customer. With the money he saved up doing online photography commission, he bought almost every dessert in the display. He even left a hefty tip. The joy on his face made Seonghwa melt, and he adored how happy he was.

They talked about making their family of two bigger by adopting another hybrid, but soon decided it was best they stay as they are until Seonghwa found someone he wanted to settle down with. Wooyoung wasn't jealous, but he loved his space and he didn't like sharing it. It was obvious why Seonghwa was taken aback by his wish to take the little bunny home with them.

He turned around and glanced at them, hearing Wooyoung talk about how nice his bed was, how his Hwa makes the best pancakes in the morning, and how they were going to make her a bubble bath once they got to the apartment. The bunny looked at her feet, struggling to hold onto the umbrella. She only nodded along to the other hybrid's words, but no sound came from her.

She must have had it rough out in the streets. Who knows what she's been through. One look at her could tell it wasn't a nice experience. He could only hope she would eventually trust them enough to tell her story.

After a quick walk, they arrived at their apartment building.

"Look bunny, here we are! Come on, come on, let's hurry inside."

Wooyoung rushed past Seonghwa, handing him the umbrella. He was still clutching the plate with two very wet pieces of carrot cake. His determination was sometimes overshadowed with his carelessness.

"Wooyoung, don't hassle the poor girl. It's okay, you don't have to rush. We live on the fourth floor, are you okay with taking the elevator?"

He looked at the shivering bunny, and she only nodded in response.

With a sigh, they caught up to Wooyoung who was already holding the door to the elevator open.

"Come on slow pokes! Our bunny needs to warm up!"

His owner raised an eyebrow. 'Our bunny'?

He was clearly thinking they were going to keep her. Maybe they could, but they first had to get her settled for the night, then they could talk about it more thoroughly.

The dim light cast a shadow over her, and it was apparent how tired she was. The dark bags under her eyes stood out even more. There was a sharp tug in Seonghwa's chest, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Poor little thing.

Once they made it to their door, his cat practically oozed joy. He put the key in and unlocked it, and Wooyung bolted inside.

"So here we are! Shoes go onto the rack by the door, we don't want Hwa to have a meltdown. Dirty clothes immediately get taken off and thrown into the hamper because the furniture can't be dirty, lastly you..."

Wooyoung stopped talking when he saw her cowering by the entrance. Seonghwa stood next to him, gesturing for the cat to shut up for a second.

"Hey bunny, he didn't mean to startle you. Just take it easy, okay?"

"You want me to take my clothes off?"

He realised what she had in mind, and he flailed his hands around, shaking his head.

"Oh, no. No, no, bunny. He didn't mean it like that! We will give you a fresh set to change into after you take a bath, but you'll do it all by yourself. We won't come near you, I promise. You can even lock the door."

Wooyoung nodded along to Seonghwa's words, realising himself how that might have sounded to her.

She nodded, taking a couple more steps inside. Her senses picked up on the faint vanilla smell, the ticking of the big clock above the TV, and the movement of the small lava lamp on the counter. Their apartment was nice, clean, and homey. She could see yarn balls in every corner of the room, probably Wooyoung's. She could also see a stack of cook books on the coffee table, and she guessed those were Seonghwa's.

"C-Can I go to the bathroom now please? I-I'm kind of cold."

Wooyoung, ever the eager, took her by the hand and walked her down the hallway.

"Of course! You just take your time inside. Here we are." He opened the door and took the liberty of preparing everything she would need.

"There you have all the shower products that you need. You can even use Seonghwa's expensive hair shampoo, he won't mind. He doesn't let me use it because I always empty out his bottle. But you're cute, so he'll let you. Oh! You can even make a bath bomb, look. You have many options in this basket."

He also gave her a stack of towels and told her to use whichever she wanted. By the time the tub was full Seonghwa came inside with an armful of clothes. He put them on the washing machine before turning towards her.

"Here you go. I didn't know what you would like, so you have some sweaters and shirts to choose from. Leave your clothes in the hamper, I'll take care of them later. You can also explore the cabinets above the sink, we have many products. Take as much time as you need, we'll be in the living room. Would you like to eat something?"

She forgot about food for a second. Her stomach rumbled a bit, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Some bread would be nice, please."

The boys looked at each other before turning towards her again. Seonghwa crouched down to look her in the eyes.

"How about some warm soup and a bowl of rice? Does that sound nice, bunny?"

She nodded slowly, almost afraid he would take the offer back if she was too eager.

He only smiled. "That's settled. We'll leave you to it now."

He ushered Wooyoung out before the cat made you more nervous, and they closed the door.

Finally, alone with your thoughts, you sat on the edge of the tub and looked at the tiled walls. Never could you have imagined running into people like them. Human or hybrid, your encounters these past few months have been terrible. You were so used to insults, nasty comments and a shove here and there, that the concept of someone being decent long escaped your head.

The exhaustion took over your body, and the warm water was calling your name. You walked over to the door and turned the lock, checking the handle to be sure you were safe inside. After that, you took your dirty clothes off and pushed them inside the hamper. The second you stepped into the warmth, your body almost started humming. As you settled in further, a smile made its way onto your face.

How you've missed this feeling. You submerged yourself completely, wetting your hair and ears before leaning against the tub. There was a variety of bottles in a small plastic container on the shelf, and you picked a random one to start washing yourself.

If Wooyoung said you had free reign, you might just use it. God knows when you'll be able to again.

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"Please Hwa! She is clearly in need of a home. I don't mind, really. I want her with us!"

"Wooyoung, for the love of God, you've only just met this girl. How can you be so infatuated already?"

The excited hybrid went to the fridge and pulled out various ingredients to make the bunny something to eat. He knew she would mainly go for vegetables, so he made sure he had lots of those. Maybe he could make her a quick salad while heating up the soup?

"Listen, hyung, I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I'm sure you like her as well, you just won't say it. Look at her! She is so tiny, and soft, and she smells so sweet... She's perfect for us. And I won't be so bored when you're at work."

"You sit at the bakery most of the time."

Wooyoung scoffed.

"Yeah, well, I want to sit at home, but I don't want to be alone!"

Oh. That was new. Seonghwa was kind of stunned for a moment before he really took a good look at the rowdy cat. He looked kind of... Sad.

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner? We agreed a year ago we wouldn't bring more hybrids to the house."

He was now aggressively chopping some lettuce, and Seonghwa was worried he'd chop a finger off.

"I know, I was there. I was the initiator of that conversation. I just... Sometimes I wanna sit here, on my favourite couch, and just do nothing. But I hate being alone. I thought you would be mad at me."

Seonghwa quickly walked over to him. He opened his arms and the cat rushed into a hug.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner. I'm not mad at you, I'm surprised you've managed to keep it to yourself this long."

They both chucked and enjoyed each other's embrace. Wooyoung was affectionate, his love language being physical touch, so Seonghwa had to cuddle him all the time. It's not like he minded, it gave him a sense of calmness as well. Although most of the time he had to measure his blood pressure to make sure it didn't go over the roof.

"Does that mean we can keep her? She can stay here and be with me? I promise I'll take care of her!"

Seonghwa stayed silent, thinking about how their lives would change if they took her in. She was clearly in need of it, and Wooyoung had a point. It might give him some space to do things on his own, and he liked that.

"Listen, I'm saying we can talk to her about it, and if she says yes..."

Wooyoung squeezed him again, rubbing his cheek all over his shoulders and neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't wait to tell her!"

As if sensing they were talking about you, you slowly emerged from the hallway.

"I-Im done. S-Sorry I took so long, it felt really nice."

If they could have melted on the spot they would've. You were as cute as a button, with your wet hair and ears, swimming in Seonghwa's sweatshirt and Wooyoung's pants. You bare feet tapped on the ground, and you nervously grabbed the hem of the shirt in your small hands.

Wooyoung detached himself from Hwa and made his way over to you.

"Look at you! Oh, let me get my fuzzy socks, I have tons! And I'll get a hairbrush and the dryer. We don't want you catching a cold all wet like this. Come, come, the soup is ready. Hyung, make sure she eats a lot!"

He went around you, sniffing slightly and smiling when he caught a whiff of his scent mixed with yours. He couldn't wait to properly scent you, so that others knew you belonged to him.

"Come, bunny. Take a seat." Seonghwa gestured towards the kitchen island where three chairs sat, and you picked the one closest to you.

"I-I can sit on the floor if you want."

He frowned. "Nonsense. I barely managed to teach Wooyoung to sit at the table during meals, he'll go right back to eating in front of the TV if he sees you."

So, they had freedom to sit where they wanted? That was a new thing for you. You didn't want to question it, so you made yourself comfortable on the chair. Seonghwa placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of you, next to it a bowl filled with fresh salad, and a big glass of water.

"Eat first, then drink the water. Try not to rush, we don't want you to get a stomachache."

"Yes sir." You nodded as politely as you could and slowly picked up the spoon. Seonghwa lightly frowned at your choice of words. Never once had he heard Wooyoung call him that. It was always something endearing, or a simple 'Hwa'. Whoever had you before made sure to discipline you harshly it seemed. He noticed you glancing at him, still holding the spoon but not taking a bite. Maybe you thought he would punish you if you actually ate? That made him turn around and go to the sink to wash the dishes Wooyoung pulled up while cooking. He would give you the privacy you needed to make sure you ate without fear.

He heard you slurping the broth after a few minutes, and soon enough you started chowing down on the salad. He kept himself busy with his back turned, and only when he heard you exhale in satisfaction did he turn.

You sure made a mess on the table, and your cheeks were still full, but you looked absolutely adorable.

"How was it bunny? Is Wooyoung a good cook?"

"Of course I'm good! I'm brilliant! Look, she ate it all! Good job sweetie!"

You froze in place, swallowing the remaining food, and keeping your head down.

"H-He is. Thank you, Wooyoung."

The cat was beaming at your words, and Hwa could practically feel the praise going into his head.

"My pleasure! I'll cook for you every day! Come now, I finally found the pink socks, and I even found a pink hair tie. Hyung loves pink, but he won't admit it out loud."

Seonghwa gasped. "Hey now. Don't go around telling all my secrets."

"Oh please, give me a break. I don't have time to argue with you right now, I have a bunny to groom. Let's go to the couch, we can put on my favourite movie!"

The girl barely managed to get down before she was dragged towards the living room. Things change, but Wooyoung will always stay the same. He understood to some degree that she was delicate, but that perished from his mind as soon as he let himself be, well... Himself.

"Here, you sit down on the pillow, and I'll sit behind you. Hwa, can you get us some snacks? Thanks!"

Yes, he was unapologetically himself.

"Sure thing Woo... Remind me who the owner of this house is again?" The younger boy laughed, the sound startling the poor bunny.

"Silly you, we share it, remember? I'm the perfect housewife, and you bring in the money! We love money Y/N! I'll teach you how to use hyung's special credit card to buy cute clothes."

He positioned himself behind you after making sure you were comfortable on the pillow. You hugged your knees to your chest, and glanced around seeing his legs beside yours. You were never this close with someone before, but it felt nice with how warm Wooyung was. He slowly started brushing out your tangled hair, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment. Seonghwa came over and you saw him place a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you.

"Help yourself Y/N. There's a variety in there. Wooyoung usually eats all the strawberries, but I'm sure he can share them with you."

"Ha! Of course I can. She can eat them all if she wants." He paused the brushing for a moment.

"Well, maybe leave me one or two, but go ahead!"

You smiled slightly, and Seonghwa's eyes softened. Wooyoung had a way with people, and he could make them comfortable quickly. He was glad his hybrid had an impact on you already.

The moment was soon ruined by a single touch to your ear.

"Hey, let's brush these out as well, you -"

"No!"

You covered your bunny ears with your hands, gathering yourself in a ball.

"Please don't! N-Not my ears. Please!"

Wooyoung could feel you trembling, and he moved his hands in the air.

"Woah, bunny, sorry. I won't touch them if you don't want to."

Seonghwa kneeled in front of you, lowering his head to catch your eyes.

"Hey sweetie, he won't touch them. He didn't mean to scare you. Do you want him to stop brushing your hair now?"

You nodded and Wooyoung's happy face soon turned sad. Maybe he should have asked before touching, but he didn't think it would be a problem. He loved it when people scratched behind his ears.

"Do you want to feel my ears? I sometimes make Hwa pet me for hours!"

You uncovered yourself slowly, turning your head to glance at him.

"Y-You like that? D-Doesn't it feel bad?"

"No! Not at all! Come on, I'll show you how to do it."

He gently grabbed your hand and placed it behind one of his black ears, moving it around to guide you. He let go, and you continued petting him. The purrs he let rumble from his chest made you confused? Jisung only grabbed you by the ears to teach you a lesson. Sometimes he even pulled you around the house. Wooyoung's eyes closed, and he leaned into your touch.

"See bunny? Now that he showed you, he's gonna make you do it all the time." Seonghwa reached over and scratched the cat's other ear, and he looked like he went to heaven.

"I-I see... B-But can you not do it to me, please? Not y-yet..."

You put your hand down, and Seonghwa moved his away. Wooyoung opened his eyes and smiled.

"No problem. But just so you know, I expect scratches from you too now. Your hands are really gentle."

You glanced at him again, seeing the satisfaction on his face. Maybe it didn't have to be so bad after all? You were still queasy about the thought of someone touching your sensitive ears, but it could be an option in the back of your mind.

The evening went on without a hitch after that. Seonghwa helped you put on the fuzzy pink socks, bickering with Wooyoung who was brushing your hair for an hour straight. If somebody had told you this is how hybrids talked to their owners, you wouldn't believe them. You would likely get smacked if you even thought about raising your voice, but Seonghwa only sighed at Wooyoung's screams. Your ears kind of hurt, but it was amusing, so you stayed quiet. They showed you how to turn the TV on, where the pantry filled with treats was, and how to adjust the heater in Wooyoung's room. He didn't want to change the sheets because he claimed it would only comfort you if you smelled his scent. You kind of had to agree with that.

Soon enough, you were tucked under a soft blanket with the two men standing above you.

"Night night bunny! Wake me up when you get out of bed, I usually sleep until noon, but I don't want to miss out on our time together!" The cat waved and hopped out of the room, leaving you with his owner.

"We can talk about everything tomorrow once you've rested. You had a long day." He lightly patted you on the head, avoiding your ears, and soon you were left alone.

Even though the room was unfamiliar, you kind of liked how it made you feel. The walls were filled with polaroids, you could see a camera on the desk, and there were fairly lights on the ceiling.

Your eyes slowly closed, and you fell in a dreamless sleep for the first time in God knows how long. You were finally safe, and you couldn't get enough of the feeling.

.

.

[impyssadobsessions]

Here's a comic depicting a snippet of a story Idea I have. >w<

(Link to Reference Art I made of Danny) Danny comes across Clockwork's lair, see's some visions of a past he wasn't quite sure of whose, before being dropped down a hole where CW cryptically fills him in as to why he had summon him. Thus dropping Danny into this new world with only knowing he has to save a guy name Dante- and defeat Pariah again. He falls through a roof of a thrift store- fights some skeleton demons with the racks after learning something is weird with his powers as he cannot change into phantom and his body feels weird. His clothes get ripped and tatter thus him "borrowing" clothes and walking out to see the extent of what Pariah has already done.

Which causes him to run into a big bull demon and fights him one to one- while learning the new limitations on his powers/how they work in this world. Spoiled below more ideas that are very rough and not set in stone. That I copied and pasted from my word document- which was just hastily written down as to not forget.

Danny is summon for another favor for Clockwork- CW isnt in the tower but screens of timelines are playing around the room. Danny thinks some of them are cool- wondering when and where that is- until he see one of a woman running with a baby in her arms. Cut back to danny who falls through a hole in the ground and winds up falling into a thrift store. His form has changed and his powers don't really work how they were suppose to. Maybe instead following Pariah into the demon world- finding himself in same scenario. Maybe CW gives only cryptic word help dante. But dante supposedly still gone so meets nero instead. Nero over time realizes Danny might not be human- doesn't think ghost- but assume Danny might be Dante's son... for various reasoning. ---Maybe CW is split in two reason Danny was able to live on the other side. (because of legend of Pariah having been banished to in between because he was feared by demons- only for him to take over new world and being sealed there. Chronos was part of the reason he got banished. ) -Pariah Dark being big bad. But once Danny wins title of king the curse tries to bind him. Then Clockwork stabs him to the ground with his staff- essentially winning the title and being sealed away with Pariah. Danny is rescued by Dante, and he uses the staff to slow the closing of the portal. Everyone safe and rescued. Danny stands where the portal was and cries. Overwhelmed by information and also realizing he has no way back home.

--- Also thought of an idea for a sequel idea- where Danny is in a comatose state but it is revealed after a seemingly heartwarming scene of Dante and Danny watching the sunset peacefully as father and son. Then Nero arrives to pick up Danny. Dante reveals that they know where the guy who did this to danny is and how to get Danny back to normal. (Vergil having scouted ahead) Dante leaves to help clear out the problem leaving Nero with literal dead weight as Nero has to take Danny's lifeless body to the lair- Danny slowly regaining some motion as he gets closer to his-self. Nero at first saying Danny owes him big time- but as it goes on Nero like- hey don't pay it back all in one go- I still need at least one favor so I could spend a nice night with kyrie. (Because Danny uses his blood to help Nero fight back the ghosts- and then him phasing them through a collapsed ceiling while still in a coma like state) Very Nero centric taking care of Danny- and whose been taking the most care of Danny. So very much him just talking one sided to Danny but seriously hoping for the best. And to clock the guy who did this. Which my idea that it be actually Dan ;3 who split Danny apart.

[garbinge]

Cowboy and Pony

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Summary: Tyler comes home with the crew after a chase and after a unpleasant run in with your ex. Word Count 4.5k Warnings: Light angst, mentions of parental death, really bad science and tech explanations for the sake of plot lol, anxiety, talk of trauma/guilt/grief, fear of leaving home, kissing and i guess PG-13 sexual situations (not really but like blink and you miss it type stuff). A/N: I saw Twisters last night and cannot get Tyler Owens out of my brain. Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You knew Tyler practically your whole life. He was the boy next door, but that quickly turned into your friend next door. Throughout all of his crazy life adventures, bull riding, studying meteorology, chasing storms, you were there. Except while he was trying out a million things, you were doing one. Tinkering with shit. Some people probably would have called you a mechanic, but you hated it. Because you didn’t just stop at cars, you were the person that would dig through the garbage to find trashed parts and build a computer out of it. That’s actually when Tyler talked to you for the first time, he stood back watching you pick through his trash just to get a circuit board from an old computer. You just liked to build stuff, you learned how to solder, how to rewire shit, the whole nine yards. 

Tyler wasn’t just your neighbor growing up, he was a friend. One of the best of ‘em. It’s why when he switched up to tornado chaser and asked you to join his crew there was no hesitation in your decision. You also managed to find a boyfriend, two of them actually, a jerk off one, that only lasted a few months and then the one you currently had, who was in front of your face this entire time. 

You were nose deep into some project as you heard the bark from Pony, the rescued Great Dane who you spent most of your days with. It was a miracle you didn’t hear the loud speakers of the truck you knew pulled into the driveway, but then you realized they had probably been broken off or mangled to the point of repair. 

“He-hey Pony, who's a good girl.” His voice was muffled, he had to have been a few feet out from the barn, which meant he was keeping the truck a good distance away from you on purpose. 

Sliding the barn doors open, your eyes first fell on him. Your number one concern always being him. But when you saw that damn handsome smug face on him, looking up at you with the most apologetic smile as Pony licked his face, your eyes jumped to the truck. They were jumping just as soon as they were closing shut. 

The exoskeleton of welded steel had been crushed on one side, which honestly was the least of your problems. The weather station atop had been missing complete pieces versus just a couple dings and scratches. The roof rack lights were broken and the trailer hitch was bent in an unusable position. But the firework launcher was in perfect condition still, of course. 

“I fixed what I could on site.” You heard the statement through gritted teeth as Tyler stared at you knowingly. 

“Oh. There was more.” You opened your eyes and saw him with an expression that could only be described as yikes as he nodded and stood up, Pony attaching to his side instantly. 

“Yeaaaaa.” He was still gritting his teeth as he walked towards you with open arms, knowing he was going to work his way back into your graces. His arms were around you in seconds, and his lips on yours moments later. Reaching to the top of your head, you removed the soldering headband that was resting on the top of your head like a simple pair of sunglasses although was 5x the size. Tyler instinctively grabbed it from you, and moved his hand right back to your lower back while you let your hands cup his face. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered as he pulled from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours. 

You looked up at him and noticed the smallest scratch on his face and wiped your thumb along it in hopes that it was just dirt but when the mark stayed and you felt the rigidness from the skin starting to heal already, you knew it wasn’t. “You know all that shit I build for you is so this doesn’t happen, right?” 

He let out a laugh, and you felt his body vibrate against yours as he did. “It’s barely the size of a papercut, and I, uh, recall you using your wiring tools to stitch up my head one from bull riding so I’d say it’s not too comparable.” His hands were now reaching up to your face to place a swift kiss on your forehead in an attempt to ease you. 

“I don’t compare, I just find a way to make things better. So now you need to tell me what happened to make this happen.” Your hands had moved against his chest. 

“One of Storm Par’s guys didn’t tie down their gear right and it nicked Tyler.” Lilly was walking right by you both into the barn to drop her drone for its own repairs. 

That made your entire mood change. “I’m sorry, what?” Your head jumping from Lilly to Tyler who was smiling with his mouth open readying an excuse.

“It was one of the new guys, didn’t know his ass from the tornado.” This was him trying to simmer the situation with humor.  

“Yea and when you told him that, that David guy got all up in our pretty boy’s face!” Boone was also entering the barn, following shortly behind Lilly with the drone eyes and controller. 

“I’m sorry, what?” That’s when your body got more tense and Tyler did everything to try and shake it off you. 

David. The jerk off ex-boyfriend. 

“Which ones David?” Dani was calling out from the RV, her hat crooked as she hung from the passenger door handle. It was obvious she was probably busy when the situation occurred. 

“The jerk-off one!” You and Tyler both called out at the same time. It earned him a smile, you could always count on being in sync with him. Surrendering from your tension you raised your arms up again to his neck, just below his jawline. 

“What’d he do?” 

“Ah, you know, storm up in my face.” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on you, it’s why you rolled your eyes which made him explain further. “You know, just said some stupid shit, Boone’s probably got it on video, probably really drive up our views.” 

You didn’t give a fuck about views or watching the footage right now, you wanted to hear it from him what happened. And he read that off you immediately. “He just got mad. I mouthed off to someone in his crew, he said some shit to me and I just brushed him off.” 

Looking over to Lilly and Boone, you were looking at them for the real answer. “I didn’t realize we were calling, pushing the guy to the ground, brushing him off.” Lilly was smirking as she was looking around at the pieces of the drone that were needing repairs. 

“Let me see the video.” You were pushing off Tyler, who was leaning in trying to get you back in his embrace until he dropped his head in defeat. 

Boone was eager to show you the footage he caught, ditching the drone and coming to your workstation to set up his camera for you to watch. 

“Watch your mouth, Tornado Wrangler. One of my guys is worth all of yours combined.” A typical thing to come from David’s mouth. The MIT degree he held must’ve come with a minor in selfish pretentious douchebag. 

You saw how Tyler’s tongue swiped against his bottom lip inside his mouth as he looked out past David, considering he had a few inches of height on him. “See that’s the difference between me and you, Storm Par, we value things a little differently.” 

It was immediately apparent that Tyler was referring to you. Yes, he valued his team way more than David his, but Tyler knew what he was doing when he said it. David put a lot of things before you when you were dating, and the straw that broke the camel's back was when he didn’t show up to the hospital when you found out your mother was sick. This was before Storm Par and Tornado Wranglers though, this was when David was just working tracking storms in the area for his college internship and Tyler was just starting to get over taming bulls and more into taming twisters. 

When David joined Storm Par, you were already with Tyler for about a year, so it was much to his surprise when he saw you at one of the many motels on the storm trail in Oklahoma not only on top of the red dodge RAM truck fixing something, but also on top of Tyler at the little bonfire gathering in the field adjacent to the motel later that same night. 

But it wouldn’t have mattered if you were together with Tyler or not. The two never got along, when he first met David from when they both started chasing the same storms, there was always something in the air. 

“Yea, we do. Extremely difficult and exhausting emotional baggage weren’t high on my must-haves when I was looking for a girlfriend.” It was the exact words he used when you broke up with him. Correct, you broke up with him, and he hit you with the yea this isn’t working, you’re extremely difficult and the emotional baggage is beginning to exhaust me line. The extremely difficult line was probably in reference to not wanting to build machines for him to use to track the weather, modeling equipment, etc. And the exhausting emotional baggage was the whole your mother being sick thing. He clearly was still using the statement which meant he thought it was effective. And it was. At getting pushed to the ground. 

After the words left his mouth, Tyler’s hands were on David’s collar bones and shoving him with such little effort but enough to get him to stumble to the ground. Tyler smirked, a fully sarcastic look as he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. Very that’s what you get of him. “Told you not to talk about her, Storm Par.” 

“You told me not to say her name.” David was annoyingly dusting off his shirt, knowing that physically he couldn’t take Tyler even on his best day. The secret was, you knew he couldn’t outsmart him even on his worst day either. 

“Hm.” Tyler was taking a couple steps closer now, really towering over him now, blocking any sun from David's vision as he stood tall looking down at him. “Well let’s just add it to the list, huh?” Just as Tyler was about to step away, the smirk on his face went from sarcastic to a full blown smile as he grabbed the ‘not my first tornadeo’ t-shirt that was on Boone’s shoulder and tossed it down to him. “Here, something to change into, you got a little dirt.” He pointed to his own torso when he said it.

That’s when the camera flipped to Boone raising his eyebrows, “you mess with the bull you get the horns!” His fingers raised to his forehead where his pointer and pinky finger were extended in the rocker sign and his teeth gritted to imitate a bull. 

“Classy.” You looked up to see Tyler still in the same spot, at the entrance of the barn leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “Maybe next time we can get you both knight costumes and we can make it a true fight for my honor.” 

Despite your satire, he knew you weren’t mad. “Next time, huh? That mean you comin’ on the next chase with us?” 

That was the question. It was so much the question, that everyone was looking at you now. Lilly, Boone, Dani, and Dexter. After your mother got really sick, it was hard for you to leave the house, when you needed time for yourself, you’d come to the garage barn and work, that way when she needed you you weren’t too far. When she passed, you were away, on a chase which held enough guilt to basically move you into your barn. The house was merely a place for you to eat, sleep, and shower. And have sex with Tyler, although the barn had seen its fair share of that as well. Now, you had explained it as a habit–preference even, you preferred staying home, it was habitual. But everyone really knew… it was that emotional baggage. 

Even though he was mentioning it now, you knew there was never any pressure to go. You used to go. But ever since you got that call from the nurse’s aid that your mother had passed in her sleep while you were 75 miles away, it was hard to pull yourself from here. 

“Let me bring the truck in here.” Avoidance.

The keys were being dangled from Tyler’s fingers before you could say another word. As you jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck, you looked down to see a note on the odometer with your name on it. 

She got a little more mangled than expected. But can’t wait to tell you about the chase. Give you a little sneak preview, twins, changing wind shear and a surprise. Did what I could on site to fix the ol girl but no one’s as brilliant as you, especially with the vehicle sonar. You probably didn’t notice the vehicle sonar was broken. I’m sorry, did I say that? I don’t think I said that. I love you, I’ll say that too, in hopes that it’s enough for you to forgive the state of the truck, and if not, I brought back barbecue to win your love back. 

T 

These were your favorite; they made you feel included, like you were there. And Tyler knew that. Tucking the note into your jacket pocket, you pulled into the garage barn and got to work. About an hour in was when you were interrupted by the smell of barbecue and Tyler attached to the plate. 

“Winning back my love?” You called out with a smile, your legs extended out on the roof of the truck as you installed the new-old weather station to it. 

He placed the plate next to you, barely needing to reach up to get it that high and jumped into the bed of the truck. “And if not yours then Pony’s.” He was picking a piece of chicken off the plate and tossing it to the Great Dane who was nestled in the corner of the truck bed. “You get my note?” He was standing in the bed now, leaning against the back of the truck cap, his arms crossed on the roof as he watched you work. 

“Of course I did. You gonna tell me about,” You pulled the wrench away and looked in his direction while trying to remember the keywords he gave you from the chase. “Twins, and the shifting shear.” 

“Don’t forget the surprise.” He was picking up the fork from the plate and waving it as he spoke. “Yea, so we caught twins, although they didn’t look like twins, one was thin, small radius, the other was growing, kickin’ up a lot of dirt.” 

“Which one did you follow?” Despite not being much into meteorology, Tyler talked enough about it for you to learn a lot, and even though you hadn’t been on a chase in while, you knew the ins and outs pretty well still. 

“The wrong one.” Now he was pushing the fork in your direction, knowing you wouldn’t stop what you were doing long enough to relax and eat. 

“The shifting shear.” You mhmed in acknowledgement to the word in his letter about the wind change and also as the taste of your favorite Oklahoma barbeque spot filled your taste buds. 

“Yep.” He nodded, “We lost it and Storm Par didn’t.” 

“Before or after your run in with David.” 

“Before.” 

“Then, Tyler Owens, I think you still came out on top.” You said it while still looking at the plate, about to grab more food but the interruption of Tyler’s arms pushing him up on the truck roof, his boot stepping up on the fixed exoskeleton to boost him up so he was on top of you. 

“You’re damn right.” He was leaning his face dangerously close, as if his body atop of yours wasn’t dangerous enough. The slightest touch of his lips met yours and any thought of barbecue and fixing weather stations was out of your brain, in fact any thoughts at all were gone from your head aside from the many thoughts of Tyler caressing you.  “I missed you.” That was until he said that. 

He meant well, and you missed him too, but it just reminded you of not being there. Tyler picked up on your change in mood immediately, his left arm pressed against the metal of the car so he wasn’t as on top of you anymore, his face twisted in concern as his eyebrows raised in a way to ask you what happened but as you thought about how you wanted to explain he got it without you needing to share a word. “Fuck.” Dropping his head and the confused concern, his head fell on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. Even earlier today, I just–” 

“Miss me. I get it.” Your hand fell on his head, your fingers getting tangled in his blonde locks, your mouth moving to pepper kisses on his head as well. “I missed you too, for the record.” You mumbled it against his head. 

He moved off you and fell next to you, his hand cupping your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead as he moved. “There’s never any pressure. At your own pace.” 

“Says the guy who faces his fears by riding them. If I was anyone else, you’d laugh and scream cowboy obscenities as you walked away from me.” 

That caused Tyler to laugh out loud, his body vibrating against yours as his laughs fell in the crook of your neck. “You’re not scared.” 

“I’m scarred.” Making jokes was the only way you felt comfortable really talking about it. 

“And for the record, you’re you, not anyone else, so yes I treat you differently.” He left a kiss in the crook of your neck as he left it. “And what are cowboy obscenities?” 

You cleared your throat and began hollering typical midwestern slang and finished it off with the Tyler Owens tagline. “Woooohooo, if you feel it chase it!” 

There was his laugh again, buzzing against your body, making you miss him even when he was right damn next to you. 

Things quieted down for a bit and the two of you sat up and finished off the plate of barbeque on the picnic table you turned the roof of the red dodge into. “So, I was thinkin’ you know how you have the buttons in the truck to release the rockets and drill in and all that.” You spoke like you weren’t the one that helped him install all of those gadgets. 

“Mhm.” He smiled thinking the same thing, his arm propped up on his folded leg. 

“Well, Storm Par they have those data trackers, the things they gotta get out of the car and place down around the vortex.” You explained. 

“Think it’s the PAR in Storm Par.” Tyler teased.

“Exactly, Phased Array Radar. And I know we have the drone, which is great but what if we could have both? Footage and data.” Before Tyler could answer you were jumping back down to your work station and moving some things around to pull out a mechanism you had been working on before the group arrived back. 

Tyler was following behind you, not as quickly paced but still intrigued. “Okay so this we could install in your truck and attach it to this.” You were now showing a large panel that had hydraulics on it. “And basically, you press this and the truck bed flap will open and this will move out, dropping whatever you want out, you guys won't have to leave the car.” 

Tyler nodded as he took it all in, impressed, as always. “Pretty sure the handsome fellas at Storm Par use 3 of those bad boy radars though. Don’t think we could get the RV that close to a twister.” 

“I’d build you a data catcher where you’d only need one.” Already having the answer to his question you folded your arms and smirked. You had the mechanism to release it pretty much done, now you just had to build the radar, no biggie. 

“How?” He copied your pose, arms crossed, leaning more on one leg than the other, although his eyebrows were frowned while yours were raised. 

“Because you just have to drop it in the vortex.” Now his eyebrows raised and before he could ask his one more follow up question, you were answering it for him. “And I’m planning on building one that shifts its panel, so even when the twister passes, you can still track it for up to 5 miles. Dorothy reimagined.” You were referring to the hundreds of sensors people would generally have zipped up into a tornado to radio back data. 

“We’d have information on the twister way quicker.” Tyler’s brain was starting to wrap around this idea. 

“It’s not perfect, it’s not going to change much but–”

“It’s a way to get more information faster, that’s pretty big.” He stopped you from doubting the idea. “And keeps us from needing to race against the twister outside the truck. 

“I’m nothing if not concerned for your safety.” You pointed at him with the large switch in your hand while he walked over to start helping you piece some more things together. The two of you fell into a silent groove, working on the idea you had just shared with him, rewiring things and going over different equations to best prepare the data capture radar. As time passed, Tyler looked over at you from across the workstation and spoke up. 

“You know, I get why you can’t come out. I know prolly better than anyone how much your mom meant to you, what seeing her get sick did to you.” 

Shifting your focus from the lamp lit table covered in wires in front of you, you looked up at him. His eyes were staring at you, softly, it was something he seemed to want to share for a while and was just waiting for the right moment. And he was right, Tyler did know. It was the perk of growing up with him as your neighbor, he just knew things because he was there. Not only did he know, but he experienced them with you. He’d come by for dinner, bring you any piece of tech or electronics him or his aunt didn’t use anymore. When you popped your bicycle tire riding home from school, he picked you up in his aunt’s truck even though he didn’t have a license. On those weekend trips you’d so often take with your mom, he’d come by and check in on the barn, on your family pets. When she was sick and 90% of your time was spent making sure she was okay, he was making sure you were okay. And when your mom passed, he was the one who drove you the 75 miles back home in the same red pickup truck when one of the most historical twisters touched down. 

It was memories and thoughts like those that always made you wonder what took you so long to realize you were in love with Tyler Owens. He’d love to tell everyone now that he knew from the moment he saw you picking through trash that he loved you. That when you were rushing down the high school hallway with some contraption you made explaining to him that you made it to help him with the focusing issue he had casually brought up to you was when he realized he could never lose you. This person who knew neither of them had the money for noise cancellation headphones and just decided to make them herself with a playlist of his favorite songs in one night to help him focus? You cared about him. And he could never lose that. Which is why he could never tell you that he was in love with you. He watched you date losers, even went on his own dates too sometimes to see if he could get over the feeling. The only thing comparable was bull riding. Or storm chasing. And with that came you, because as much as you didn’t realize you loved Tyler, you knew you loved being around him. 

“We can start slow if you want to get out, maybe we can go away for the weekend, go to that town you and your mom used to drive out to in Texas, Sun Valley, right?” 

It was honestly the perfect idea. Getting out and doing something that reminded you of your mom. “Yea that’s a good idea.” 

He sensed the hesitancy in your voice though and changed the topic quickly. “Never asked me what the surprise was.” 

“What’s the surprise?” It was spoken in a mockery tone, you knew he’d get around to telling you. 

“Be right back.” He was eagerly standing up from the table and lightly jogging down the driveway into the RV where Dani and Dexter were probably working on making sense of the data they had already captured. 

As Tyler came back into the barn, Pony whined and tilted his head as the scent of what Tyler was carrying entered the barn. He had a young dog in his hands, although the dog was big enough to likely not be a puppy but you could tell from his face, he still had a few more young months ahead. It was a real dog and pony show, literally. 

“Found him in the aftermath rubble, pretty sure his owners didn’t make it because no one claimed him.” The heaviness of his statement hit you as you stepped out and made your way towards both Tyler and the dog.  “Didn’t have a nametag on ‘em.”  

“Cowboy.” You grabbed the dog from Tyler’s hands, giving him his name, and scratched him behind his ears before putting him down on the ground to meet Pony. 

As you looked at both dogs, now curiously sniffing and playing together in your workshop barn, Tyler tossed his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. “Pony and Cowboy.” He nodded. 

“You bring him home because you don’t think Pony has it in her to protect me all by herself?” 

“Somethin’ like that.” He smirked. “Plus now, you got an excuse to stay home more. You got a puppy to raise.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Dead Man Walking || LN4 {2}

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: Christmas with the Norris’ is a long standing tradition but will that still be the case after this years? Warnings: 18+ only, angst and fluff WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist || one || two

Flo’s old bedroom in her parent’s house hadn’t changed since she moved out. There were still glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that you had helped her to stick up when you were fifteen. Lando had made fun of them and called them lame as walked past the doorway, but he had still come and held your chair stable when you were precariously close to tipping over.

“What are you staring at?” Flo asked as she walked in to find you lying on her bed, eyes on the roof. 

“Nothing, have you picked a dress yet?” She huffed at your question and opened her closet with a shake of her head. “You do realise the party has already started.”

There was no way to miss it with the christmas music drifting up the staircase and echoing along the hall. Every year was the same, it didn’t matter that all their children had left home - Adam and Cisca still held the annual event and attendance was non-negotiable, even for you. 

The bedroom door opposite Flo’s opened and Lando froze from tugging at the black tie as he caught sight of you. A slow smile grew on his face and he started to take a step forward until Flo appeared with a dress in hand. She held the floor length gown up to her body and swayed the metallic-finish material side to side. “What do you think?” 

“Didn’t disco balls go out of fashion in the 80’s?” Lando teased, drawing her attention to the doorway.

“Didn’t ask your opinion, noob,” she shot back as she grabbed the door and shut it in his face. “I can’t believe he’s staying all week too. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

“You should be thinking about your dress right now,” you reminded her as you got up and searched the rack for another option. “Here, this is perfect.”

You could hardly explain to her that you were the real reason Lando was staying local all week. For six months you had stolen nights together, not only avoiding the paparazzi and fans always trying to snap photos of him, but more importantly, Flo. The guilt was a constant fist squeezing your stomach but every time you thought about telling her the truth, the fear of her response kept your lips sealed. Then months had passed by and you thought it would be even worse to admit how long the secret had been kept.

“Babe! This is why you are my best friend,” Flo exclaimed as she dropped what she held to take the emerald green chiffon dress from your hands. “What would I do without you?”

Your smile was forced as you wondered the very same thing. Your mothers had joined the same playgroup before you could walk but you had crawled to Flo and face planted, accidentally headbutting her and making you both cry, but you had been inseparable ever since. Whenever you made a promise to each other it was sealed with the mantra from cradle to grave - ensuring the promise would be as strong and long lasting as your friendship.

You caught the empty hanger she tossed back and hooked it back onto the rack. “End up looking like a disco ball, apparently.”

“Not even,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she shimmied into the dress. “I refuse to take fashion advice from a man who has a hoodie for every occasion.”

You laughed at the completely true statement and pointed at the door. “Not tonight though.”

“That’s not by choice. Mum said he had to smarten up or he would be on dish duty after dinner.” She scoffed as she turned around for you to tie the lace back together. “I told her, wearing a suit won’t make him any smarter.“

You shook your head with a laugh. “If I could get away with wearing a hoodie tonight, I absolutely would too. It feels weird dressing up one day a year. I spent the whole morning here in sweatpants.”

“It’s tradition, and you look gorgeous.”

“I should for the effort I put in,” you giggled, offering your elbow as you opened the bedroom door. “Shall we?”

She looped her arm in yours with a nod as the music downstairs grew with each step. “Let’s do this.”

If you had to listen to another Christmas song you were going to scream, so you escaped the warmth of the Norris’ home and took a breath of wintery air on the balcony where it was less audible. Though there was a chill in the air the eggnog and brandy kept you from feeling the full brunt of the night and you could hardly believe there was snow forecast to fall. 

The only light that reached you was what slipped through the joins of the curtains but it was enough to see the paddocks beyond the grassy lawn. This late in the year the horses that usually grazed the paddocks would be holding up in the stables, away from the morning frosts that occurred daily, but you could still hear their neighs in the distance. 

“Still not a fan of Bublé?”

You smiled to the sky as a pair of cold hands settled on your waist and warm lips found the delicate spot behind your ear. 

“If he hasn’t grown on me by now, I don’t think he ever will.” You turned to face Lando and linked your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” His body started to sway, taking you with him as he hummed the stupid song in your ear, laughing when you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? All I want for Christmas is you.”

Your gaze softened and you smiled again as you tucked your head into his chest and buried your hands in his jacket to try steal some warmth. “Are you cold, love?” he asked, looking back at the warm house where all the log fires were lit.

“No, I’m not ready to go back yet,” you admitted as you cradled his cheek in your hand and guided his attention back to you. “Just a few more minutes together.”

He nodded before giving you a soft kiss and pulling away to shrug his wool suit jacket off and drape it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my girl getting sick for Christmas.”

One Year Earlier “I don’t buy it,” Flo muttered over her flute of champagne as she sat to your left at the dining table, waiting for dinner to be served. 

“Buy what?” you asked as your attention was pulled away from Max on your right, and the pictures of the new simulator he had just finished setting up in his room. 

“Them.” You followed her nod across the room to find Lando on the couch in front of the roaring log fire, his girlfriend sat on his lap as if there weren’t two other cushions available beside him. “There’s no chemistry.”

“Eh,” you shrugged as you grabbed your glass that Max had refilled for you, “since when do you need chemistry if you’re a model or whatever?” 

“You almost sound jealous,” he teased quietly, wary of Flo on the other side. 

“Am not,” you bit back a little too harshly, only making him chuckle more and take a sip of his beer before he said anything else. 

“Dinner will be a little late, I’m afraid,” Cisca announced with a sigh, muttering about the gravy catastrophe. “Adam, honey, turn the music up for a bit.”

“If you aren’t hung up on him, then come have a dance with me,” Max dared as Oliver and his pregnant wife joined Flo’s aunt and uncle dancing in front of the hearth, beneath the twinkling fairy lights. He wiggled his fingers as he waited for you and with a sigh you placed your hand in his and rose from your place setting. 

Flo grinned as you passed by, poking you in the ribs with a laugh and giving you the thumbs up - but Max was only a friend. He could only be a friend because the person you actually pined for was his best friend.

“I know,” he whispered in your ear as one hand rested on your waist and your feet followed his lead.

“Know what?” you asked innocently, but he had caught your eyes drifting to the couch as you circled your way around the room.

“I won’t say anything, I just thought you might want to talk to someone. God knows you can’t talk to Flo about it, she would smother him while he slept,” Max joked. “And I kind of like having my best friend.” His eyes looked at the couple before he sighed. “Most of the time at least.”

You weren’t the only one vying for his attention anymore since he got a girlfriend. “You’ve been drinking too much, Fewtrell. You’re seeing things with your beer goggles on, I have no interest in Lando.”

“Is that why he hasn’t stopped staring at you?” Your head snapped around but Lando’s attention was firmly on Luisa and the very deep kiss they were openly sharing. “Totally not interested in him, huh,” he chuckled as he tightened his hold on you when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry, it sucks, wanting what you can’t have.”

“There are worse things,” you muttered under your breath but he heard and curled an eyebrow in question. “Wanting what you can’t have right in front of you.”

He had no response but a sad smile as the song changed and Michael Bublé’s Cold December Night crooned over the speakers. 

“The twinkling of the lights, The sound of carols fill the household, Old saint Nick has taken flight, With a heart on board so please be careful, Each year I ask for many different things, But now I know what my heart wants you to bring.”

“I fucking hate Bublé,” you sniffed as you pulled away from Max’s arms. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

“It’s bloody snowing out there,” he objected as he followed you to the backdoor. “You’re going to be sick for Christmas.”

The dinner bell rang out and you sighed as it shattered the bubble you had found yourself in and knew you would have to release Lando from your arms.

“Come to my room tonight,” you whispered against his lips before they shared one last kiss. ‘Your room’ was actually one of the guest rooms down the hall but you had spent so much time in it over the years that it was only ever referred to as yours now. It was so much yours that Cisca had even asked you for your opinion in the wallpaper when she renovated the house.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby,” he said with a smirk as he opened the backdoor for you. You reluctantly removed his jacket and missed the scent more than the warmth as you passed it back. Lando pulled it back on and dipped his head to steal one final kiss before stepping inside with a warning over his shoulder, “No dancing with Max this year.”

“It’s your turn to be jealous this year,” you said as you blew a kiss to him along the narrow corridor.

He paused and cast his arm out, planting his palm on the wall and blocking you from rejoining the party. “What makes you think I wasn’t jealous last year?”

“Maybe it was the tongue down Luisa’s throat, or the hand up her skirt?”

You tried to duck under his arm but he caught you around the waist and used his body to cage you against the wall. “I had to do something to distract myself,” he admitted lowly in your ear, hiding his face from your disbelieving eyes. “You were all I could think about, you and that sexy little dress.” You tilted your head back as you felt his lips on your neck as he continued his confession. “If I didn’t do something I would have gone crazy watching him hold you when I couldn’t.”

His kiss set your body on fire and you combed your fingers through his hair tugging the strands so you could capture his lips.

“What the fuck!”

Both of your heads snapped towards the outburst and your stomach dropped as you saw Flo standing at the end of the hall. Her arms were limp at her side, the blank look of shock bleeding into betrayal as her head started to shake before she turned away.

Your body reacted before your brain could, pushing Lando away as you chased after her despite his call to let her go. You couldn’t let that happen, she had always been a worrier and the longer she stewed on something the worse it got in her mind. You had to talk to her.

You raced up the stairs, apologising to Adam as you passed him in the hurry, the confusion of catching his daughter’s rush to escape clear on his face. Her door was shut and you tested the handle to find it was locked and your head thumped against the wood with defeat.

“Please, Flo, let me in,” you begged her. A quick no resounding from inside. Turning around, you took a seat on the floor and rested your back to the door. “I’m going to stay right here until you open the door.”

“You’re going to be there a very long time.”

You sat there in silence for a few minutes wondering where to begin, how to explain what happened, why, how long. Finally you decided on a simple apology. “I’m sorry, Flo. We didn’t intend to fall in love, didn’t intend on anything happening. I fought the feelings for years, because I knew what it meant to you.”

“Still didn’t stop you though, did it?” She spat, her voice closer than you expected. “I had one rule. One!”

Your make up was certainly ruined as tears spilled forth, eyeliner and mascara stealing down your cheeks. “I know.”

“They say they don’t have favourites but mum and dad have always put him first. They missed my events to go to his races,” she sobbed, a sense of déjà vu filling you as she retold the history you had consoled her through years ago. She had always felt second place to Lando. “I thought you would always be my best friend.”

Your gut wrenched as you realised what she was feeling. She thought you were choosing him over her - like there had to be an ultimatum. “I still am,” you promised, shaking the door handle again. “Please, unlock the door.” She made no move to turn the key.

“Do you remember when you got Summer and I thought you were going to forget all about me?” you asked, remembering the day the pony arrived at the house and Flo had been so excited she had run off to the stables without you. “You told me I was always going to be your best friend, from cradle to grave. She was your horse, and you could love us both, right?”

The door tugged open and you fell back, sprawled on the floor as she stood with her arms crossed. “Are you calling my brother a horse?”

“Depends, would it make you feel better?”

She rolled her eyes and offered a hand to pull you to your feet. “I don’t know yet, I’m too pissed off at you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, you guys okay?” Lando asked as he jogged to the top of the stairs, his tie and jacket missing.

You screwed your eyes shut at the timing and pinched the bridge off your nose as you asked, “Can we just have a few minutes?”

He turned twice first to head back down the stairs before he changed his mind and went to his room. “You said I had changed,” he muttered to Flo as he stood in his doorway and held the door knob. “You said I looked happier than ever.”

“I’m going to vomit if you tell me she’s the reason.”

“Sorry.”

“For what? Stealing my best friend?”

You stepped into her line of vision and waved a hand behind your back hoping Lando would get the hint. “He hasn’t stolen me, Flo. Cradle to grave.” You held up your pinky and held your breath as she stared at the age old promise you had made. “I should have told you how I felt about him, but you can be really scary and I was a coward. It was still a shitty thing to do.”

“Really shitty.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe it was you,” she said with a shake of her head. “I knew there had to be a girl. This is annoying, more than anything, because he’s not such a muppet anymore, but knowing it’s from you - I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“Surely being happy is what matters most, not the who or why.”

She fell silent and her eyes fell to the door that he had quietly shut. “What happens if he breaks your heart?”

You hoped it never came to that but you couldn’t see the future so you shrugged. “Then I will cry on my best friend’s shoulder like I always have.”

Her shoulders bounced once with a laugh before she caught herself and tried to appear nonchalant. “I suppose I would offer to key their car.”

“And I would say it isn’t worth it.” You reached for her hand and she let you hold it as you gave it a squeeze. “But…if he doesn’t then I might not just be your best friend, might be your sister in law too someday.”

“Too soon,” she said with a scrunch of her nose as she pulled her hand away and went to Lando’s door. “Hurt her and I’ll key your new car, noob.”

The door swung open and Lando leaned against the jamb. “You don’t have to worry, sis.”

“I love her more than you.”

Lando snorted, a sound so similar to Flo’s, and he shook his head. “It’s not a competition, you muppet.”

She appeared almost pleased, though also surprised as she nodded and stepped away, “good answer.”

“But,” Lando smirked and you sighed inwardly, “if it was I would win.”

Flo oddly didn’t respond as she started to make her way back to dinner, pausing only as she reached the stairs before looking back. “By the way, I’m dating Max.”

“What? No fucking way, I gonna kill him,” Lando growled as he took a step towards her before her head fell back with laughter.

“Of course I'm not, Lando, but now you know how it feels.”

Her laugh echoed down the hall as she descended the staircase and left the two of you alone. Facing Lando, you stared at him wondering if anything had changed but the moment of uncertainty was gone when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you without fear of being caught.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow, it’s all I’ve wanted to do for so long,” he laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours and recovered from the almost blessing you had received from Flo. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Tomorrow's Christmas,” you said with a smile.

“Shit, okay then, the next day. Hey!” He grinned as he pointed downstairs, his head bobbing along to the song that was playing again on the playlist. “Christmas came early for me,” he said as he dragged you to his bedroom and closed the door, silencing Bublé as he sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.

“We are going to miss dinner,” you warned as he sat on his bed and pulled you onto his lap.

“There’s always plenty of leftovers, plus, what I want isn’t on the menu downstairs,” he teased as his hands brushed beneath your dress.

“Bob, what are you up to-oh!” Max covered his eyes as he busted into the room. “Bro, everyone is waiting for you two. Time and place, people.”

You stood up and pulled the dress back into place, sending Lando a look that said ‘I told you so’ before tapping Max on the shoulder as you passed him. “You can look now.”

“I think the damage is already done, the image is seared on my retina,” he said with a dramatic shake. “So you two finally…”

“Got caught,” Lando said with a chuckle, slipping his hand in yours as the three of you headed to the dining room. “No more hiding.”

Max grinned and clapped Lando on the shoulder. “About time!”

“Wait, you knew?”

“Uh…I have been in the middle of this situation for like five years. Of course I knew. I think I knew before the two of you knew.”

You frowned at the news and came to a stop halfway to the landing. “So last year?”

“Was my trying to get you two to see what was clearly right in front of you the whole bloody time. You’re welcome for that, you know. And I expect to be thanked as the best friend and wingman one can ask for in our next stream. Now can we please go and eat, I’m starving!”

Lando looked at you with a different look of hunger in his eyes as he kissed your hand. “Me too.”

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[magicalqueennightmare]

Things Change

Daryl Dixon x Reader

This started as a drabble about Daryl wanting to know where the rest of your tattoos are....it became this. Enjoy

Warnings: Violence, cursing, slightly suggestive at the end

"Flirtationship" that's what Maggie called whatever was between you and Daryl. You weren't sure what to call it. One minute it seemed like he was near admitting something then he'd shut back down. You knew you were friends but then there were times he'd get jealous when some of the transplants from Woodsbury would talk to you too long or get a little snippy if you went on a run with someone else. You knew one thing for certain, you weren't breaking first.

You slowly walked through the abandoned store, careful of every step you took. Michonne was two aisles over and Daryl was somewhere under the same roof. So far the three of you had gotten lucky, only two walkers had been hiding within the shadows of the old Piggly Wiggly.

This run had gone pretty well. You'd worked on the supply list for Hershel and had picked up pretty much everything actually.

-------------

You made it to the end of the aisle and Michonne stood there with a mischievous looking grin and her hand behind her back "What ya got?" You asked and she pulled her hand out to reveal two protein bars "The last two peanut butter ones"

You took one with a little giggle of delight. As the two of you tore into the treats you heard Daryl's footsteps behind you before he said "You sound like a damn chipmunk girl" you glanced over your shoulder at him "Don't be mad cause you didn't get one"

He stepped up close enough his chest was tight against your back. With one hand on your hip he leaned down and whispered in your ear "I could always do this" and before you could ask what he'd reached around you with his other hand and snapped a piece of the protein bar off and popped it into his mouth.

You gasped dramatically "Daryl Dixon! Stealing from a helpless woman" he shook his head "Woman, yeah. Helpless? hell no, you ain't.

Michonne shook her head and laughed "Did both of you finish your lists?" You nodded and Daryl did too so She waved towards the door "Lets get back"

-------------

The three of you walked together back towards the front of the store and passed a still intact magazine rack. You stopped to examine a tattoo one.

As you flipped through Michonne leaned over your shoulder looking as well. "There's some nice ink in here" you commented and she shrugged "I like your tattoos myself" Daryl looked from you to her "The rose on her arm?"

Michonne cut her eyes at you, a slight smirk working its way onto her face then shook her head "No, her other ones" "Other ones?" Daryl asked with a raised eyebrow so you tossed the magazine down and quickly changed the subject to needing to get back to the prison before everyone started worrying about the three of you.

You didn't miss how Daryl's eyes flicked across your body like he was trying to figure out where you were hiding the other tattoos, causing a trail of heat to raise across your skin as if his touch had followed his eyes but eventually he nodded "Yeah, let's get going"

A few days later you were helping Carol cook in the center of the yard and felt more than heard someone walk up behind you even before a smile worked its way onto her face. "Hey Daryl" you spoke without turning around.

She looked a little more than amused because you'd told her about the whole him questioning the location of your other tattoos thing. He bumped your shoulder with his "Wanna get out the fence for a while? Was gonna go hunt"

You cut your eyes at Carol and she nodded "I've got it covered" you turned your head slightly to look at Daryl who was standing close enough to your back he was nearly touching you "I'm gonna go grab my bow and my gun. Meet ya at the gate?" He nodded so you turned to walk off.

------------

Daryl watched you walk away then looked back at Carol who was watching him with a grin. "What?" She shook her head "Nothing. You're kinda obvious though"

"About what?" She shook her head again and went back to turning the food. He stood there for a minute and considered just walking off but ever since you and Michonne had mentioned your other tattoos the thought hadn't left his mind just where those other tattoos were. He shouldn't he thinking this hard about it.

"Carol.." he started but she cut him off "Yes, I know where all her tattoos are. No, I'm not telling you. And the thing you're obvious about is that you're head over heels for her and can't figure out how to approach it. She won't bite, well i mean she might if you ask her to"

"I didn't...I'm not..." he stammered, feeling his face warm but about that time he heard your voice echo across the yard "DAMMIT DIXON. DON'T KEEP A WOMAN WAITING"

Carol looked back at him and started laughing at the look on his face "Go catch up with her. You and me both know she'll go out on her own" "Yeah, I'll catch ya later" he mumbled before heading towards the gate where you stood with your bow over your shoulder.

So far the only thing you and Daryl had managed was a half dozen squirrels, two rabbits and to kill four walkers.

You were walking shoulder to shoulder with him, careful of every step to avoid unnecessary noise. You could feel his eyes on you every now and then but assumed it was the usual "making sure you're walking right" watching.

"Think we'll luck out and find bigger game or should we just try finding a few more rabbits then head back?" You asked, turning to face him and nearly ran right into his chest.

His bow was in his right hand so his left went to your hip to steady your footing "We can make another loop to check for deer tracks" he answered and you nodded slowly, a little too focused on how tightly his hand was gripping you and on how fast your heart had started beating when he'd grabbed you there.

You took a step back making his hand fall away, readjusting your own bow in your grip "Yeah. Let's get on it"

--------------

He hadn't missed the way your eyes had got wider when he'd grabbed your hip so your footing wouldn't slide. This thing between the two of you was getting harder to deny.

You took a few steps ahead of him then looked back "ya coming?" He nodded "Yeah, I'm coming" the two of you continued your way through the woods, looking for any movement that could bring meat to the prison.

There was one particular transplant from Woodsbury that was on very thin ìce with Rick. Like one complaint and you were fairly certain he'd catch a bullet and get thrown to the walkers at the gate.

Francis Martin. He was a lawyer pre fall and apparently still considered himself better than other people. Even Hershel wasn't too particularly fond of him. What was worse? He was misogynistic as hell.

He couldn't understand why Rick had so many women in the group that he trusted and respected the way he did you, Michonne, Maggie and Carol. Beth was luckily still young enough to be under his radar a bit.

------------

You and Maggie were working with a few of the women from Woodsbury. Some of them had no knowledge of self defense or basic weapon training so you were doing what you could.

Glenn had of course volunteered if the two of you needed someone to show how to fight with. He was slightly taller than Maggie and had a few inches on you.

--------------

You were showing one woman how to tuck her hand to throw a punch when you heard someone laugh and looked up to see Francis leaned against the wall watching. "Something funny Martin?" He waved a hand around "This"

You saw Glenn out the corner of your eye and shook your head slightly. As much as you loved Glenn for being protective you didn't need a man coming to your rescue because he'd never back off. You took a step towards Francis "What's funny about it? Your governor never taught them self defense or weapons training. We're trying to help them have a chance at surviving"

He pushed off the wall and took a step towards you "Women teaching women survival. It's a joke honey" you felt yourself bristle at him calling you honey. "I haven't seen you lift a damn finger to help anything. You haven't taken a guard shift, haven't helped the farming section, you damn sure don't hunt. You don't clean the kills. You don't cook. You don't help with laundry. You don't help with the water supply. You don't help with the solar panels we scavenged. What do you do?"

------------

You could feel a crowd growing and knew Glenn had more than likely summoned Rick or went in search of him but you weren't taking your eyes off the sorry excuse for a man in front of you. "And you do so much? I always see you hanging off Dixon" he spat and without thinking you swung, connecting a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered a bit then spit out a mouthful of blood "You're gonna regret that you little bitch"

"Make me regret it" He recovered and swung, landing a punch to your jaw. It was a solid hit but not hard. You'd been hit a helluva lot harder. You spit the little blood it caused from your teeth slicing your lip out "That was weak"

You kicked out and it connected with his knee. He went down and you started to walk off but heard one of the women Alice scream for you to watch out. You side stepped the knife in enough time it just barely grazed your arm.

You jumped back out of his arm's reach, a shocked laugh escaping you "A fucking knife? Really" you heard Rick's voice but didn't move your eyes off the threat. "RICK, THIS FUCKING MANIAC IS TRYING TO KILL ME"

------------

Rick appeared over your shoulder "Francis put the knife down and you might walk away from this" "Not before I kill that bitch" Francis seemed like he was fucking possessed, the fragility of the male ego mixed with the stress of the apocalypse?

"Fair enough" you heard Daryl's voice right before a crossbow bolt landed dead center of Francis' left eye.

He dropped like a rock. Rick grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm fine" his eyes raked across your body before landing on your bleeding arm "He cut you" you shook your head "Barely a graze"

He leveled you with a look so you sighed "I'll go see Hershel" he nodded "Good girl" then looked around "It's getting late. Everyone head inside. Me and Daryl will clean up"

You cut your eyes at Daryl who looked from your split lip to your arm. "You good?" You nodded "Asshole just caught me off guard with the knife and trying to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else"

Rick nodded "We need to reevaluate everyone from Woodsbury" you shook your head "he was the only weakling. It's solid now" both men studied you for a moment then nodded "Go get stitched up then head to bed" Rick said and you nodded "Yes sir" then headed inside.

Once you headed inside Rick looked at Daryl "Are you good?" "Yeah" Daryl answered quickly but Rick wasn't buying it that easily. He'd seen the anger in his friend's eyes when Francis had threatened you, mixed with how little hesitation he'd had with putting him down with the entire yard filled with people.

Rick studied him for moment before speaking again "I missed it too. I'm just as guilty for her getting hurt" when Daryl didn't say anything he added "Why don't you go talk to her when we get through here?"

Daryl finally looked up at that, "About what?" Rick raised an eyebrow "You didn't hesitate. Nothing would've stopped you from putting him down. Not because he was dangerous to everyone here but because he was threat to her directly. That means something. I think it's time you two figure out what"

Daryl just grunted in reply before kicking Francis' body "Lets get this asshole out"

You finally made it into your cell and collapsed across the cot. Your mind was going a little too much for your liking.

After you'd gotten cleaned up you'd made your way to Hershel for stitches. While you'd been sitting on top of the table in the main area people had started trickling in. First it was your group. Carl and Beth with Judith in tow. Then Michonne and Carol, ever the protectors they were. Then came Glenn and Maggie.

Your group hadn't affected you. You were family which meant you were used to all of you checking on each other if an injury happened.

What bothered you was the Woodsbury women. The ones who talked about Francis. How uncomfortable he'd made them. Comments and actions you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't shoulder the burden alone, it was the apocalypse but you felt responsible because like it or not too much of your attention had been on Daryl and the question of what were the two of you.

The guilt of if Francis had hurt someone was unbearable. You knew you had to talk to Daryl, lay your cards on the table and let them fall where they may but that didn't mean you had to like it.

------------

You were half asleep when you heard a light tap on the bars. Your eyes flew open and your knife was in your hand before your brain caught up completely.

You recognized the shadow outside your cell immediately and relaxed, leaning up to lay your knife on the top bunk "Come in Daryl" you said it loud enough he could hear you but still low enough to not disturb anyone else.

He pushed the door of your cell open then pushed past the orange shower curtain you'd scavenged a while back for privacy. He pulled the cell door closed behind him then leaned against the wall just inside the door.

"How ya feeling?" He asked, eyes going to your arm where it still rested half across your face. You ran a finger down the bandage "Ten stitches. Hershel gave me the usual aftercare of keep em as clean as possible, change my bandages and when to take em out"

He nodded slowly as you sat up then scooted back so your back was against the wall then you patted the bed next to you "Cmon Dixon. Sit down" he laid his crossbow down next to your bow then sat down next to you, ducking his head.

Once he was through moving around in a bid to get comfortable you saw his hand reach out for your injured arm so you let him take it. His fingers lightly grazed the bandage "You kicked his ass even before I showed up" you laughed lightly despite the guilt you felt and leaned your head over on his shoulder "Yeah, thanks for that by the way" he nodded, "I got your back. Always"

------------

After a moment he tucked you under his chin and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and ignore the guilt, the conversation that needed to happen but you couldn't.

"Daryl, he'd been harassing the Woodbury women. Worse than I realized" "That ain't your fault" he offered but you shook your head "I've been distracted"

He pulled back to look down at you "You ain't never gotten distracted easy" you stared at him for a moment then felt the tips of your ears warm. Was he that oblivious?

"Hell I only swung first because he said all I do is hang off you" at that Daryl laughed "Carol says I follow you around" you laughed lightly. His hand came up to brush your hair back from your face and your heart flipped in your chest. "You take care of everyone you can as much as you can. Don't feel guilt for what that asshole did"

You swallowed hard then smiled "I'll try not to" you hadn't realized you'd been staring into each other's eyes until Daryl shook his head and looked away "Ya want me to let you get some sleep?" "No" you replied without thinking and it was nearly comical how fast his eyes came back to yours.

You shrugged "I like being around you. I feel comfortable and safe" he nodded and you thought that was all would be said until he asked "That all it is?" And you were stunned with the forwardness from Daryl of all people "No, it's not" you admitted and he smiled "Good. Cause that's not all it is for me either"

------------

You laughed and started to lay your head back over before a thought occurred to you, "Still curious about the tattoos?" His smile turned into a smirk "Yeah?"

You climbed off the cot, Daryl watching you carefully. You took your boots off and set them next to the bed and when you unzipped your jeans, the look in his eyes made your stomach do that little flutter thing. You slid your jeans down off your hips and laid them on the top bunk leaving you in just your panties and tshirt.

You were nervous because you liked Daryl. He was one of your closest friends and how you felt about him well honestly you were fairly certain you hadn't ever had feelings like that for anyone even before the world ended. You weren't a blushing virgin either though.

He was quiet for a moment then moved up to the edge of the cot and held a hand out. You took his hand and he used it to pull you to him "Can I?" He asked and you nodded.

---------------

Daryl watched as you slipped your jeans off, the moment your legs were free of the denim the ink came into view. It started at your hip and ran down the full length of your right leg down to your ankle, twisting and turning. Vines, roses and different flowers decorated your skin along with a few other designs hidden that blended in.

It was gorgeous and fit you well. He moved up to the edge of the cot and reached a hand for you, hoping like hell you'd take it and when you did he pulled you to him. "Can I?" He asked, nodding towards your leg and you nodded so he leaned forward letting his fingers trace across the patterns inked into your skin "Why ya been hiding this?"

"Even in the Georgia heat shorts aren't really practical" you replied, resting your hands on his shoulders as he explored the tattoo further. When his thumb brushed a little higher on your thigh a light sigh escaped you and he grinned to himself. Did he really have that effect on you?

He looked up at you and you smiled "Whend ya get em?" "Eighteenth birthday. Got in a pretty bad wreck at fifteen. Dad was driving and walked away without a scratch. I had four surgeries and pins in my leg which left lots of scars. He felt like shit because he ran a red"

He nodded slowly, fingers still trailing across your leg "Looks good" you smiled again "Thank you" he leaned forward and let his lips just barely brush against the rose that was on the bend on your hip, nearly hidden under your panty line and you sucked in a harsh breath "Daryl"

-----------------

You knew he was doing it on purpose when he looked up at you "Somethin wrong?" "So we're doing this? Us?" You asked and he nodded "If you want it, I do" you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth chewing on it and saw the look in his eyes. He was as turned on as you were. "We'll have to be quiet"

He grinned "We can try but the kids are upstairs at least" you started to roll your eyes but he leaned up to press another kiss to your leg, this one a little higher and you gasped "Damn you Daryl" he laughed against your skin "You can cuss me all you want woman as long as you keep saying my name like that"

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 4

Silco’s not exactly an uninvited guest, but your first sleepover together is still much more than you bargained for…

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || SFW | WC: 3.0k

beta reader: @silcoitus <3!!

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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Silco repeatedly insists that he shouldn’t impose on you during the entire walk. You’d normally persuade him with words, but it’s been a long night; you’re tired and cranky and have no intention of holding on to incriminating evidence for longer than you need to. So you threaten him at umbrella-point, and he finally accepts.

Despite its name, Lower Piltover is populated by a decent amount of Zaunites. Most of them are like you, working in professions that earn good money. Not enough to move into Topside proper, but enough to literally lift them out of the fissures and the fog. It’s also a convenient place to live for people who make frequent trips to both Piltover and Zaun. To go Topside, it’s a walk through the Alcove District and then crossing the river by bridge or boat. To go to the Undercity, there are the nearby elevators and the bathysphere.

You make your home in the Promenade Apartments, one complex of many that line the narrow, sloping cobblestone streets. The lodgings are small and modest; Councilor Salo’s dining room alone is twice as large and luxurious as your studio apartment. Still, it has a sturdy roof and you can see the sky from your window, which is more than most Zaunites have.

When you and Silco cross the threshold of your home in the dark, he accidentally knocks something over with his foot. It thunks onto the ground, rolling and rattling away loudly.

“Oops,” you wince. “Sorry about that.”

“The fault is all mine,” he says. He bends over to grope around for the thing while you switch the lights on.

If you had known you were going to be hosting guests today, you would have tidied up. As it is now, your apartment is messy all around. The thing that Silco had knocked over was a glass jar full of paintbrushes that you had meant to put away with the rest of your supplies, but somehow ended up by the front door. It’s just one jar of many dotting your apartment like mushrooms in a forest. If they’re not filled with even more brushes, then they hold coins, tubes of paint, or eating utensils. Other larger supplies like paint cans and easels litter the place like debris.

You quickly sling your purse over your shoulder and crouch down to the ground, scrabbling to pick up the fallen jar and brushes. Silco steps aside to make room for you. As he deposits your umbrella in an umbrella stand, you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drinks in the sight of your apartment, and it makes you self-conscious. One paintbrush slips out of your grasp, and you accidentally kick it across the floor. It clatters merrily away, as if to draw even more attention to how you haven’t scrubbed the ground clean of paint in a while.

Instead of chasing it down, you stand straight and sigh. You put the jar and brushes in your pocket for now and turn to your companion.

“Can you wait here a second?” you ask.

Silco nods. You quickly hang your coat on a rack and strip off your boots. He pulls off his own shoes as you speedwalk to your bathroom. You return with a large towel and hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he smiles. He starts toweling his hair slowly, doing his best not to send water droplets flying everywhere. “Your home is quite cozy.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I think I have some extra clothes you can change into, hopefully they’re your size.”

“That won’t be necessary—” he protests.

“You’re soaking wet, Silco; you’re going to get sick if you don’t get dried off. The shower is that way,” you say, pointing in the direction of your bathroom.

“I can’t take advantage of your generosity like that,” he says worriedly.

“Silco, you’re going to take a warm shower and get changed, or else I’ll stuff you in the dryer along with your clothes,” you warn him.

“You’re already doing too much for me—”

“Fine then. I don’t want you getting any of my stuff wet. Does that make you feel better?” you ask. Actually, you couldn’t care less if he did, but his stubbornness is wearing your patience thin.

He hesitates, then finally nods. After putting his backpack down on the floor, he strides over to your bathroom, draping the towel around his neck. You grab a towel from your kitchen to wipe up the trail of water behind him.

Silco pulls the bathroom door closed behind him. As he turns the water on, you put your purse down on your kitchen table carefully, conscientious of its precious cargo. You’re about to start pulling out its contents when Silco calls out your name.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Would you like to take my clothes now or later?”

“I’ll take them now, thanks.”

“Not at all.”

When he cracks open the door, you expect him to toss them onto the floor. Instead, his hands reach out to you, cupped to hold the bundle of clothes high above the floor.

You stand and stare at his hands, reluctant to approach. Of course he would have to strip naked to shower. For some reason, that thought hadn’t fully sunk in.

And now you’re thinking about him being fully nude in your home.

You dash forward before the door can swing open further to reveal your blushing face. As you swipe the clothes, you tell him, “Feel free to use as much hot water as you want. Go ahead and use the soap and stuff too.”

His thank-you is cut off as you gently push the door shut. You try to put your embarrassment away along with the clothes as you stuff them into your washer. After getting a cycle started, you walk over to a closet and pull out a duffel bag of clothes. These were from a clothing drive hosted by a friend, and she had asked if you could wash them for her. It was lucky that you had already done so this morning, and that there’s a full outfit close to Silco’s size including some boxers. You fold these neatly and leave them outside the bathroom on top of a stool.

As you resume pulling photos out of your purse, your eyes drift back up to your apartment, wondering what your home looks like from Silco’s perspective. All your shabby wooden furniture was bought used: a twin bed shoved into a corner, a large wardrobe next to it, an overstuffed bookshelf, a kitchen table, a cabinet, and two stools. By far the nicest piece you own is your drafting table, always kept in good condition because it sees the most frequent use. Your stove, dishwasher, refrigerator, and stacked washer-dryer are dingy but still in good condition. Everything is covered in specks or smears of paint; you try to stay on top of cleaning those off as much as possible, but at a certain point you just stopped noticing them altogether. Hopefully Silco doesn’t think your home is grubby.

Then there’s the matter of all your canvases. Most of the floor space in your apartment is taken up by crates filled with them, some blank but others are old paintings or studies that you hadn’t gotten around to discarding or selling off. You hastily stuff your closet with two boxes, fighting with a third to stay inside without sticking out. When you give up, you resort to tucking the rest of them next to your wardrobe. Everything else gets stacked or shoved up against a wall to clear the ground as much as possible.

You wonder if your cluttered walls make the apartment feel messy or cramped too. They’re covered all over with a few of your own landscape paintings, but mostly papers of studies you’ve done. Most of them are of hands, but some include faces, clothing, or shading studies.

Hopefully Silco won’t peek in any of your sketchbooks on your bookshelf; that’s where you practice drawing nudes.

The shower shuts off, and after a moment the bathroom door opens. Silco almost calls out to you but stops when he sees the clothing you’ve set out for him. He grabs them and shuts the door again. When he reemerges wearing the new clothes, he walks over to stand next to you.

“How was the water?” you turn to him and ask. 

Some of the clothes you brought him are just a little too big for him, the wide neckline of his shirt exposing the entirety of his collarbone and a sliver of his chest. Large sleeves hang freely around his elbows, softening the sharp angles of his body into something smoother. At least the pants fit well enough that he doesn’t need a belt for them.

“The water was perfect, thank you,” he says gratefully. 

“How about the clothes?”

“They’re quite comfortable. I’m tempted to steal them from you,” he chuckles.

“Go ahead,” you smile. “You can pay me back when you’re done with them.”

“Of course.” Silco crosses his arms as he looks down thoughtfully at the photos, studying them intensely. He picks one up to read it, holding it delicately. He’s so careful with it, handling it with a light touch as if it were made of gossamer. When he slaps it down on the table decisively, his triumphant laugh startles you.

“You have my congratulations on a job well done,” he says excitedly. He claps a hand on your shoulder, still warm from the shower. “What would you say to joining me on my future ventures?”

“No thanks,” you say immediately. You shudder at the thought of another frantic, improvised heist. “What did you need all this stuff for anyways?”

Instead of answering your question, Silco turns to face you, squeezing your shoulder to gently steer you to do the same. He leans in as he raises another hand to your other shoulder. His eyes shine brightly, an earnest passion burning behind them as he says, “I’ve already asked too much of you. But I’m asking for your help again. Not for me but for all the underground. If we are to become united, the Undercity will need everyone to fight for it.”

“Silco…” you say hesitantly. Your eyes dart back and forth between his.

“We’ve accomplished a lot together. And there is more yet to achieve. I hope you can remain a part of it,” he implores. Silco speaks humbly, but his gaze is unblinking and focused solely on you, the turquoise whirlpools of his eyes pulling you in.

Overwhelmed by his attention, you look away. You swallow and clear your throat to buy yourself more time. In an attempt not to disappoint him, you speak gently but firmly, “Silco… this was just a one-time thing. You can keep the clothes and the photos, and I can help you with anything else… but I’m not doing anything like that again.”

Silco’s stare softens. For a moment, you wonder if you spoke too softly for him to hear. But he lets go of your shoulders and steps back, a sad smile on his face.

“I understand,” he says. “You’ve done more than enough to help our cause tonight. History will not forget your contribution.”

“Feel free to keep my name out of it. I don’t need Councilor Salo thinking I’m a spy,” you tell him before making a sweeping gesture at the array of pictures. “Are you going to tell me what all this is for or not?”

“Both Councilors Salo and Hoskel enjoy Noxian wine. Unfortunately for them, they’re considered an illegal import,” said Silco. “We weren’t sure who was responsible for importing the spirits—and now we know.”

He reaches over and taps two different photos; one looks like a shipping manifest while the other seems to be a trip itinerary with a list of supplies. “There’s a discrepancy here. By all accounts, this airship is only carrying a modest number of shipments. So why does it need to be over-fueled? And where are the details on the cargo’s origins?”

You try to recall if you saw any documents describing that. Silco watches as you move some of the pictures around, skimming them briefly. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that written down. Did I miss something?”

He shakes his head. “The councilor is hiding something.”

“How do you know it’s the Noxian wine?”

“We don’t have complete certainty,” he admits. “But look at when this shipment is being unloaded.” Another photo is pointed out to you; this one is a schedule with a short list of names. “Midnight, with a skeleton crew. It’s suspicious. Whatever it is, it must be quite valuable. And we intend to get our hands on it.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” you ask.

At this question, Silco stands straight and proud. With a grin, he says, “The Children of Zaun.”

You look at him in wonder. It somehow doesn’t surprise you that Silco is a member of the renowned rebel group. Most people from Zaun hate Piltover, but only the loudest and proudest of radicals join the Children of Zaun. The organization spearheads the Undercity independence movement, and its members will do anything to hurt Topside. If Silco is one of them, then it makes sense that he would have taken personal offense at you mentioning Piltover in any kind of positive light, much less working for their government officials.

“So… what are you guys going to do? Just… spy on the airship or something?” you ask slowly.

“Piltover has stolen from the Undercity for too long. This is our chance to take something back.” He clenches a fist, pressing it against the table. “Ideally, it will be something we can use for ourselves. If not, we can still blackmail the councilor. Use it to bend him into submission.”

You’re no fan of Councilor Salo either, but you know he’s smart enough to have all his warehouses and ports staffed with armed guards. The Children of Zaun may have spirit, but they probably don’t have money; they won’t stand a chance against Topside’s superior firepower. Enforcers could mow them all down without a second thought. 

“Aren’t you scared? You could get killed,” you say weakly. Your arms rise unconsciously to hold yourself.

Silco waits until you look up at him again to answer. “At least, we would have the solace of knowing we died fighting for our cause.”

There’s no trace of fear or anger in his face or voice when he speaks those words. He means it as a fact, that he and his friends are ready to give up everything for the Undercity.

If those words were meant to be comforting, they have the opposite effect on you.

The simmering unease in your veins boils over into fear. You hug yourself tighter as you sit down. You were aiming for a stool but you miss, wincing as your backside collides with your stove. Instead of standing up, you ooze slowly down to the ground, succumbing to the building fatigue of the night. Your bones are heavy as you slouch, deflating with a loud sigh.

Silco swiftly kneels down next to you, calling out your name in worry.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. It’s hard to resist the temptation of curling up on the floor and just falling asleep right then and there. When you try to stand up again, your legs twitch weakly in protest. 

“Can you sit next to me?” you ask Silco. 

He nods and obliges immediately, sitting cross-legged. Concerned, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You don’t answer right away. It’s hard to put together the words to articulate your feelings, exhaustion making your thoughts swim away like fish slipping out of a net. Something tells you that even if you were wide awake, it wouldn’t be easy to sway Silco from his convictions.

That he shouldn’t give up his life for the Undercity. That it’s too high of a price to pay. His selflessness is admirable, but he shouldn’t be so reckless either. It’s one thing to dedicate himself to the freedom and independence of Zaun, but the disregard for his own safety borders on carelessness.

And he’s no good to anyone if he’s dead.

Maybe he’ll tell you it’s none of your business, that it’s his life to live and he can do whatever he wants. Just because you helped him, that doesn’t mean he’s going to listen to your advice.

If a direct approach won’t work, then hopefully an indirect one will.

“Silco… I want to cash in a favor,” you say slowly.

“Of course,” he says without hesitation. He scooches closer to listen better.

You lock eyes with him, trying to imitate his steady, magnetic gaze. “Promise me you’ll come back alive. And that you’ll stay safe.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He leans back, mouth fallen open.

“That includes your friends, too,” you add. “And don’t kill anyone you don’t have to.”

He stares at you, then shakes his head in wonder. “That’s more than one favor. If I may make an observation, you’re being quite greedy.”

“Fine then. You owe me more than one anyways.” You quickly do some mental math and count on your fingers. “Saved you from Enforcers, saved you from Salo, got you these pictures… I’ll cash it all in.”

You stand decisively, your strength returning in a sudden burst. Silco scoots back, alarmed by your abrupt movement. You stare down at him and offer him a hand. 

“Promise me that you and your friends will come back alive. And don’t kill anyone you don’t have to,” you repeat yourself. “Do all that and we’ll call it even.”

He stares back at you, then grins roguishly. As he clasps your hand, you’re forced to use your whole body to pull him up, leaning back as he gets to his feet.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he says. “But I always appreciate a challenge.”

“I need to hear you say it,” you insist.

His gaze now is soft, cool waters of his eyes soothing you like rain after a forest fire. He squeezes your hand reassuringly, a comforting point of contact that you anchor yourself to.

“I promise.”

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If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! <3

Chapter 5

[pearlycorpse]

(ঞ) ⸺ ⠀𝐓𝗁𝖾 𝐁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝐁𝖺𝖻𝗒

pairing : rich heir gojo x pregnant!fem reader

summary : gojo forget a condom one night and six months later he has to be married

tw : gojo's horny? pregnancy does it for him 😔

notes : another intro from a sakura ai & poe ai bot!

the son of the biggest conglomerate in japan, satoru gojo, wasn't known for his prowess in the industry of technology like his father, no no, he was known for the few things that besmirched his family name. those things were women, dating scandals, drunk and disorderly conduct and oh, right, women.

his grandmother would often chew him out when he was nursing a bad hangover with nothing in his stomach but good old miso soup and rice. she didn't even know why she bothered with her useless grandson who wasn't even all that interested in becoming the head of the gojo clan and taking over ber son's position in his company. sometimes she wishes it was herself that had died in the accident that took satoru's parents years ago.

her blood pressure was through the roof just because of the late night outs and early mornings, the salacious articles spewed across the internet, the newspapers questioning the stability of the clan. it was all too much noise in her mind, too much uncertainty in the future. maybe that's why she hadn't died yet, because if she did satoru would make her roll in her grave with all the nonsense he would get up to.

something had changed in him, she thought, thinking back to satoru's childhood when he had been learning how to a good leader of their clan. the gojo clan was prestigious, a leader of the industry, always setting an example for everyone else to turn to. so imagine the shock and disappointment when the heir, the pride and joy of her son, wasn't interested in taking the reins.

oh it just got her so angry thinking about the times when satoru would wake her up in the middle of the night asking if she could send a driver to pick him up at ghastly strip clubs and low budget motels. there weren't enough whip lashings she could give him before he came to his senses, that much she knew for sure because satoru got his filthy attitude from his grandfather; her husband.

the pig couldn't keep his zip up like his life depended on it and only brought shame to her and her family. much like a certain blue eyed heir was doing even at that very moment.

as if by magic, her phone buzzed and a servant answered the call, holding the phone up so she could hear who was speaking. fortune had shined upon her that day, because that was her meal ticket, the only way to get satoru to listen, to behave, to become the head of the clan.

so what if it was manipulative and conniving? she was getting old and couldn't keep yelling at her grandson, it was time for her to rest and see some grandchildren to keep her company.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

satoru had sobered immediately after hearing his grandmother's words when he answered her call at seven in the morning. he had just gotten back from an all night ragger at five, and being woken up at seven was like having ice cold water thrown on him. "satoru, you're going to get married before the end of winter. a woman who you impregnated six months ago is here, and she has agreed to marry you, so get dressed, we're all having tea."

he couldn't even remember what he was doing four months ago, let alone who. the past months, heck, past years have been nothing but a blur of women, whiskey sours and more women. he was sure his liver was shot but he could still down a fireball like no one's business so he wasn't particularly worried in that regard.

but back to who he got pregnant, satoru racked his mind, most hookups were either when he was black out drunk, about to be black out drunk or when he was having orgys. he always used condoms, extra large vanilla flavoured condoms that hugged his length as snug as a rug. he had trained himself to slip that rubber on even if he couldn't see his feet under him.

there were times in the past when he'd gotten a few pregnancy scares but a quick call to his grandmother had gotten rid of those problems rather easily. and no, he didn't have his grandmother kill those women like their family was apart of the yakuza — at least he hoped she didn't kill them, four of them were great at giving head. those women were simply paid off to keep quiet terminate the pregnancies without second guessing themselves.

he was a terrible man yes, but so were the teenagers who nutted in their socks and left them for their mother's to clean up.

steeling himself with a shot of expresso to really wake him up, he got dressed and headed down stairs where his grandmother sat on the tatami mats with a woman. he glanced at her stomach, true to her word of being four months pregnant, unless she was a chance taker and was here to get money. but then again this was his grandmother he was talking about, a swindler wouldn't have made it further than the front gate.

finally, when their eyes met satoru was struck with a memory.

six months ago it was the anniversary of his parents death, and like every other year, he was drunk. why was he drunk when he didn't even cry at their funeral, he didn't even mourn them. maybe deep down he was burying his feelings so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of that day, of loosing them, loosing his beautiful mother who sang to him when the rain hit the windows too hard. loosing his father who was the first one to teeth him how to treat a woman right.

she had come into the bar soaked to the bone from the rain, looking like she had had a rough night judging from her red rimmed eyes and the crease between her brows. he had wagered a break up gone wrong and was proven right when he bought her a drink to warm her bones. the conversation flowed, even when drunk he was awfully charming, and before he knew it, he was hovering above her body.

she was still wearing that same perfume, he thought, lavender, it was a scent he hadn't considered pleasant but on her made his senses melt. was it the perfume that made him forget to put on a condom, or was it the way she looked, so delicious and in a hurry for his touch. something had happened that night and for the life of him he couldn't even remember her name when he woke up that morning.

she couldn't even look him in the eye when he sat beside his grandmother, she couldn't look him in the eye when they hot marriage either. it was like she didn't even want him, didn't even want anything to do with him and yet she was the one who reached out. she had begun the entire process that had uprooted his life and changed his entire world right on its head.

satoru was the head of the clan soom after they got married, became the ceo of gojo technologies, he was everything his grandmother wanted for him. he could do the work, no problem, after all, he had retained everything his parents and grandmother taught him over the years; he wasn't useless. and yet it seemed when it came to his... wife, satoru couldn't do a thing.

so tonight he had decided instead of heading to the strip club, keep his ring in his pocket and put his phone on silent, he had ran his wife a bath. it was filled with essential oils, bubble bath and bath bombs to give the water a purple tinge. he didn't expect seeing her pregnancy body to have such an effect on him. it made him tug at his tie and blame the steam from the water for the heat in his cheeks.

"why don't i rub your back?" he suggested, standing behind her and rolled up his sleeves. he had ulterior motives of course, he always did. if he touched her just enough, rolled her nipples under his thimb the right way, he would get the release he craved, and knew his wife would be thanking him later too.

[bybobbysbeard]

Cool Pacific

Day 12 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: a day at the beach read on ao3 read other days here

“Okay, now paddle, paddle, paddle, and UP!”

Tommy jumps to his feet, knees bending as he finds his balance. The surfboard rocks on the dry sand, but settles in a second. Evan claps, enthusiastic. “Very nice babe! That was great. I think you’re ready to get in the water.” 

Tommy chuckles, wiping sandy palms off on his boardshorts. Evan is redolent in the sunshine, all tanned skin and tattoos, his smile wide and generous. They’ve already been in and out of the shallows, so salt is crusting his curls into tight ringlets. His blue swim trunks are shorter than Tommy’s, riding high and wide around his thick thighs as he paces around the rented board. The little white drawstring is tied in a sloppy bow, just begging to be undone.

But it's a lovely day, and the beach is populated, so Tommy’s daydreams will have to wait. 

“You do know that I’ve been swimming in the Pacific since I was younger than Jee, right?”

Evan rolls his eyes, offering him a hand and guiding him to step back onto the hot sand. “I do know that. Yet somehow, you’ve never been surfing, and here you are, with a certified surf instructor at your disposal.”

“Certified? I didn’t think there was any nationally recognized criteria. I always thought you just had to be blonde and hot and say ‘dude’ all the time.” Tommy picks up the board, standing it upright and running a hand through his crunchy hair.

Evan pulls his own rented board out of the sand and hefts it under an arm, gesturing excitedly at Tommy with one hand. “You’d think that, but technically, since it became part of the Olympics in 2020, there is an international standard for surf coaching. Of course, that didn’t exist when I learned. I just used to advertise as ‘certified’; it worked on the tourists.”

“Evan. Really?” 

“Really really, Thomas.”

Evan holds eye contact for a minute, faux-serious, before he breaks, mouth quirking. Tommy laughs too, copying the posture and slinging his board under an arm. They walk towards the breaking surf together. The cool Pacific rushes over their feet, rinsing off the sand. Evan keeps going until they’re about waist deep, before settling on his board on his stomach. He paddles lazily, spinning a slow circle around where Tommy’s standing, his board floating beside him. Tommy turns on the spot, silt stirring up under his feet, as he keeps his boyfriend in view. The muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he arches and propels himself through the water.

Evan stops, letting the board drift, and leans up on his elbows. “Alright, popping up is the hardest skill to master so that’s why we practiced that on the beach. Even still, you’re going to wipe out. Everybody does. Your longboard is a foamie, which is good for a beginner, because it floats really well, and it probably won’t break your nose if you faceplant.” He pushes up further, seawater running down his torso in rivulets. He straddles his board and kicks his feet cutely. Tommy is so distracted. Evan’s tone goes wistful, “I used to have this really sweet epoxy funboard, but I gave it to a girl when I left Peru. Cornered like a dream, and it fit on the Jeep’s roof rack. It was awesome.”

“You could get another one.”

“I could. But I don’t have time to surf the way I used to. I would feel bad, I think. Having a board that nice hanging on my wall and never letting it touch the water.” He turns to look along the shore. “Maybe someday. If we ever move closer to a real beach.” There’s a few families splashing in the shallows nearby, and a couple walking along the strandline with a dog. There’s more people spread out on the warm sand. They’re a ways up the coast from LA proper. Far from the tourist trap beaches and the Santa Monica pier. They’ve talked about Evan’s hypervigilance around the ocean and its weather systems. It helped, Evan said, to be farther from the city. Farther from the memories. 

Tommy hums, watching the nostalgic look on Evan’s face. Last week, when he suggested some beach time, and Evan brought up surfing, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Tommy was imagining maybe building a sandcastle with Jee at a park, but Evan offered lessons. Hearing your boyfriend used to teach stupid tourists in between bartending gigs is one thing. Actually seeing him out on the water, sparkling in the sunshine, shorts stretched indecently tight across his quads, was something completely different. 

He watches Evan physically shake off the memories, sending droplets flying. He leans over, and grabs onto Tommy’s board, holding it steady. “The next thing to do is to find a comfortable and effective paddling position. And then we’ll ride some swells in on our stomachs, so you can get a feel for it. If the waves cooperate, you can work on popping up, even if it's just to your knees.” 

Evan’s eyes are the exact same blue as the California sky. The tides surge around them, currents swirling little eddies of silt around his toes. Evan is smiling at him, transparent in his happiness, his feelings for Tommy on full display. That smile finally gets him moving, awkwardly clambering until he’s straddling his board too. Tommy feels buoyed, lifted by the briny waters of the Pacific and Evan’s love.

“You’re good at this. Teaching, I mean.”

Evan laughs. “Thanks. I’m usually not. I get too in my head, worried about forgetting something important, or boring people when I go off on a tangent. You make it easy.” He leans over to kiss Tommy gently, their boards bumping together and knees touching. His lips are chapped, and salty.

“You make all of this easy.”

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heeeey

I just saw a tiktok that said Percy "I hate bullies" Jackson soo can I ask for a fic where the reader is new at the camp and is harassed by an ares kid or an aphrodite kid and Percy help them ?

Not necessarily a romantic story, I just thought it would be sweet

you may have broken me out of my writing slump lol. thanks for the platonic ask <3 <3 <3 I miss those lol. enjoy!

Percy defends reader from the camp menace

»»————-　★　————-««

You walked up the grassy path, bag over one shoulder. The rich green strawberry field stretched out to your right, filling the valley with the smell of summer and fruit. The air was warm too, and you’d like to fall asleep in the flower rings after the stress of the day.

Clouds drifted like fairy floss. You had a bandage over one arm where the feral ‘harpy’ had got you, but other than that, and a healthy dose of fear, you were unharmed. 

A good outcome for a monster attack, according to the blonde boy who’d wrapped up your wound before sending you along to a purple haired girl called Lou Ellen, who dragged you around the dangerous summer camp, pointing out where all the death traps and instant coffee makers were located.

And now you were here, standing outside the little wooden shack by the Infirmary where you’d started, with a handful of massive golden coins the horse man had given you, that matched the sun in the sky. Hopefully they sold sunscreen in the camp store. 

You pushed aside the beaded curtain and peeked around, sneakers squeaking on the floor. You were going to have to duct tape the sole of your shoe back on as well, since that feathered little bitch tried to swallow it hole.

You shivered at the thought, and stepped though. 

The first thing you noticed was the wind chimes and sparkly glass dream catcher looking decorations hanging by the windows and from the roof. A few racks of orange shirts and hoodies were lined up on the far wall, past the ice-cream fridges and boxes of toiletries. 

The scratched up bag you had with you, filled with lip balms and headphones and snacks and one hoodie, wasn’t enough. So you picked out a spiderman toothbrush and a stick of deodorant, opting to not get any gum in case it was magical, after reading the price tags to discover the currency was called drachmae’s. 

Why did the ancient Greeks have to make everything so complicated? Couldn’t they have just chilled out?

Empty necklace strings hung off hooks nailed into the wall. You brushed them aside to get to the shirts. Lou had said you needed a few, considering how often things tended to get incinerated. The shop had your size, thankfully in English, so you took two. A boy with a pink bow in his hair and a name tag reading Mitchell walked past with a stack of jars. 

You approached the bench with your arms full of supplies, and dumped them. “...Uh excuse me?”

Someone bumped around behind the bench and after a few crashes, a brown haired boy popped up. There was a bandaid over his nose, and he held a hand out. “Pleased to meet you.”

You squinted at him for a moment, and then shook his hand. “Hi.”

Something else crashed on the other side of the shop. A winged horse trotted behind you, opened the ice-cream freezer with its teeth, took out a Callipo, shut the glass door with a hoof, and then left. You turned back to the cashier. “Just these please.”

He took all your things and ripped the little white paper tags off them, folding up your shirts really badly. Then he started counting the white tags. Really slowly. He mucked up, somehow, and then started again. “Two, five… wait, no, four…”

The windchimes bumped against each other as your annoyance grew. You stuck your hands in your pockets. He kept counting. You only had four things! You were glad you hadn’t added a packet of gum to the pile. 

You picked at the bandage on your arm. It was still hurting a little.

Mitchel finished putting the jars on their shelf, and turned back to the staff only door. “Oi! Jackson! Where’d all the incense go?”

“Seven… eight and a half…” The cashier guy finally finished, and punched the numbers into the cash register. Finally. He grinned. “Cash or card?”

There was no eftpos machine. What was his problem? All you wanted to do was eat dinner with your new family, find a bed, and go to sleep. And get some painkillers. And wash all the monster blood off your hands. You bit back a sigh, and reached for the bag of coins in your pocket. 

It was gone. 

You felt your face heat up as you checked the rest of your pockets and then your bag you knew definitely didn’t have a hole in the bottom. Your eyes prickled, and you told them off silently.

The boy behind the bench just stared at you with a smile.

“Uh…”

The staff only door banged open. The boy in the doorway glared at the cashier with alarmingly bright green eyes. There were a lot of people in this camp. You really needed to learn names. “Oi! Connor! Stop fucking with people!”

“Fine,” the cashier, Connor, huffed, and tossed your bag of coins back at you.

You caught them, glared at him, and then dug through it for the right amount to give to him. Eight and a half, how were you supposed to give him half a coin? 

Green eyes stomped around the umbrella and also nunchucks stand, reading the cash register. He read it about three times. 

Why could these people not count?

“Connor you fuckwit,” green eyes scoffed, tapping at the buttons. He searched through the tags again and then took seven of your coins, all while you stood there and wished the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

His tag read Percy. He handed you your things, and then a lemonade icey-pole from under the bench. You took it cautiously, and watched as he grabbed Connor’s ear, and dragged him out of the camp store.

You were left alone in there for a second, so you zipped up your bag and left quickly. 

“Please no! Not the toilets!” Connor screeched, as he was shoved back down the path quickly. 

Percy cupped his mouth as he yelled. “Clarisse! Come beat up Connor!”

You opened your icey-pole. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[emphasisonthehomo]

For the fic ask game I always wanna hear more about Threshold verse please please please

Ask me some questions!

Vague spoilers.

So! Fun fact (or not fun fact) about Threshold, is that Tommy absolutely spent some time essentially homeless after he got out of the army. He was couch surfing, so he wasn't technically on the street, but he did spend a while in his mid 20s without a stable roof over his head. It's unfortunately a fairly common thing with veterans of the American military and trans people, made worse because his parents were/are kinda huge assholes.

Have an Outsider POV snippet I've been sitting on and dying to share. Heads up, it's the point of view of someone that knows Tommy as Deadname Kinard and includes Tommy's shitty dad being a shitty dad, with implied abuse.

•

Morrison Bay, Alaska

May 31, 2009

06:14

It’s bright. The sky is clear and the wind is surprisingly calm as Ben lands. Barely a cross wind, no headwind to speak of. A perfect day for flying, but not so perfect that he’s going to give up his day off for it. Once he unpacks and logs the cargo, he’s free and clear until tomorrow afternoon.

Ben makes quick work of taxiing to the hanger, and does his shutdown checklist as efficiently as he can manage without overlooking anything. It’s quiet, there’s no one else at the airport that he can see. The Cessna 206 can’t carry a lot, he’s mostly in the business of being an air taxi, but his boss needed someone to take some fishing supplies in for a loyal customer and well. Ben is always happy to take an extra job when he can.

Bethel is small, but Morrison Bay is tiny in comparison. It isn’t home, but Ben likes it well enough. Mostly because of Patty at the post office. Patty, who’s a little older and fun because of it. It’s cliché, but Ben picked her up a box of chocolates. She doesn’t know he’s in town today, and when he surprises her with it later, she’ll keep him busy tonight. He won’t lie, it’s why he’s been trying to get more deliveries here. The hope that, if he plays his cards right, Morrison Bay and Patty might become home.

It takes Ben longer than he’d like to unload everything; his knees like to remind him that he’ll be 42 in October. He’s in the middle of lifting the last box onto the dolly, when he hears footsteps. Glancing up, Ben squints and then stares.

Ben’s on first name basis with most of the pilots in the area. He knows Lynne Kinard, the same as he knows her father, though he hasn’t seen her in years. The last he’d heard from Rick she was still in the army, but here she is now, clear as day in the sunlight. She looks different. Startlingly different from the teenager he remembers. Her once long curly hair is now cropped into a short military style cut, and she seems a lot broader. She’s certainly grown up; the army must have put her through the paces.

“Good morning, Lynne” Ben says, trying to cover his surprise with a smile, “Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Good Morning Ben,” Lynne says.

Her tone makes Ben straighten up. He looks closer at her face. Her mouth is a thin line, and her eyes are red. She’s not in uniform, but she’s still in army regulation boots.

“You get discharged?” Ben asks, racking his brain to try and remember if Rick mentioned anything about this the last time they spoke. He’s pretty sure Rick did, but Rick rants and Ben has a habit of tuning him out.

“I did,” Lynne nods once sharply, hunching her shoulders a little and shoving her hands further into her coat pockets, “Six years was enough for me, I think.”

“Well, damn. It really has been six years, hasn’t it,” Ben nods back slowly, “You look good, I like the haircut.”

Ben doesn’t actually have an opinion on the haircut. But it suits her, even if it is a bit masculine, and it seems like the polite thing to say.

“Thanks,” Lynne says awkwardly, pulling one of her hands out of her pocket to rub at the back of her head.

As she does, Ben notices that her hands are shaking. It’s a little chilly this morning, the weather report had it at 54f. Not so cold that she should be shaking like that, especially since she looks appropriately bundled up. There’s a shadow on her wrist that might be a new bruise. Something starts to ping at the back of Ben’s mind.

“What are you doing here? Back to helping your dad with flights?” Ben asks, even though he knows Rick doesn’t work on Sundays unless he absolutely has to.

“No, uh,” Lynne’s voice cracks, and she clears her throat awkwardly, “I actually wanted to ask you if you were planning on heading back to Bethel sometime today.”

“…Yes,” Ben lies on instinct as his gut twists.

“Would I be able to catch a ride? I don’t have much cash, but I can pay you once we land, if you don’t mind waiting for me to get to an ATM,” Lynne avoids eye contact as she speaks, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip.  

“Is there a reason you’re asking me and not Rick?” Ben asks bluntly, even though he’s starting to guess at why.

He looks at Lynne’s short hair and thinks about how her mom would no doubt be furious that she cut it. He thinks about the kind of man he knows Rick Kinard to be. He thinks about his Aunt Lucille, who lived with a roommate named Brenda for over 40 years. He thinks about Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Six years was enough.

When Lynne speaks her voice wobbles. 

“I had a fight with my parents last night and I can’t–I can’t stay in town.”

Damn. He hates being right about these things.

“How about this,” Ben says calmly, because the last thing he wants is to see her start crying on the tarmac, “You help me get this delivery settled, and buy me breakfast when we get to Bethel, and we’ll call it even.”

“Sounds great,�� Lynne says with another sharp nod, “Thank you, sir.”

“I know Uncle Sam beat that into you, but don’t you start sir-ing me,” Ben says, trying to lighten up the suddenly heavy mood.

“Yes ma’am,” Lynne says with a thin and brittle smile, turning her attention to the dolly, “Want me to get this?”

Ben snorts.

“Yeah, put those young joints of yours to good use,” Ben says, “They’re going into lockup for someone to pick up later.”

Ben doesn’t try to force any small talk as Lynne helps him with the cargo, and she doesn’t say anything else either. As they finish up and head into the small office in the hanger, he notices that it’s toasty inside and the space heater is on already. There are two large duffel bags and a beige military backpack stacked near the desk. One of the duffel bags has an imprint in the middle, as if something was laying on top of it.

The fight had been last night.

When Ben looks over at her, she’s avoiding eye contact again. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t know what he would say, what he should say. He’s never had kids, never wanted any. He can’t imagine anyone pissing him off enough that he’d leave them to sleep on the hangar floor, much less someone kin to him. This must be an Aunt Lucille type situation. Growing up, Ben’s grandmother had acted like she didn’t exist.

Ben leaves her to start collecting her things, and heads over to the fax machine to see if there’s a recent weather report. He’s just grabbed the papers to have a gander, when outside a familiar voice yells out–

“Ben? You in here?”

Lynne goes white as a sheet.

“Speak of the devil,” Ben mutters to himself, before looking at her pointedly, “You stay in here.”

She doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place, half bent down to grab one of her bags.

“Yeah?” Ben hollers back, stepping out of the office and shutting the door behind him as casually as he can manage, “Morning, Rick.”

“Morning,” Rick says.

In the years that Ben has known Rick, the man has rarely been in a good mood, and this morning is no exception. He’s scowling openly, and his left eye has a twitch to it.

“Have you seen Kymberlynne around?” Rick snaps, with no other attempt at pleasantries.

“No,” Ben lies, before continuing with faux curiosity, “I thought she was still enlisted. Didn’t you say she was in Germany?”

“No, she’s out,” Rick’s scowl deepens, “I picked her up the other day, and now she’s throwing a fit over some nonsense.”

In the years he’s known Lynne, Ben doesn’t think he’s seen her throw a fit about anything. Even when she was a surly teenager, she was more likely to sulk than to yell.

“Ah,” Ben says, “I can keep an eye out, but I’m working on my day off. I’m leaving soon.”

“Damn idiot girl,” Rick grumbles to himself, glowering around the hangar, “Always ungrateful.”

“Mhm,” Ben hums noncommittally, “Well it’s not like she can go far. Maybe she’s at a friend’s house.”

“Maybe,” Rick grunts, “I’ll have to track her down. Her mom’s all spun up about it, you know how women are.”

“Mhm,” Ben hums again. Anger, white hot and slow, starts to simmer in his chest.  

With one last look around the hangar, Rick shakes his head in clear disgust and turns around to start the walk back into town proper. As Rick walks away, he spits a wad of chew onto the side of the road.

“See you around,” Ben calls after him.

Without turning back, Rick waves a hand vaguely in Ben’s direction. When Ben gets back into the hangar office, Lynne is standing by the fax machine looking at the weather report Ben abandoned. She’s a tall girl, takes after her mother that way. Even with her height and whatever muscle she got while enlisted, she looks small in this moment. She’s hunched in on herself, her head bowed.

“He leave?” Lynne asks quietly.

“Yup,” Ben says, “He’s walking, so I figured we could wait a bit before heading to the bird. That way he doesn’t see you.”

“Thank you,” Lynne says, before clearing her throat, “Weather should be good today, the wind is really mild.”

“Mhm,” Ben moves closer under the guise of looking at the weather report, and peers at her wrist. It’s definitely a bruise.

Ben wonders if he should ask her what happened, but he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. If he’s honest, he doesn’t want to talk about this with her at all. He’s never been good at those sorts of conversations. Plus, if Lynne confirms that Rick gave her that bruise, Ben doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself from chasing Rick down that road and clocking him in the jaw. The temptation to do so is already strong.  

“What was it like flying choppers?” Ben asks instead.

“Fun,” Lynne’s face creases into the first smile Ben’s seen from her this morning, “I’m gonna miss it.”

“You know what they say about choppers?” Ben asks seriously, “The reason they fly is because they’re so ugly the ground repels them.”

Lynne rolls her eyes.

“I did know that,” She says dryly, “Those Air Force boys have a lot of opinions, considering they build the golf course before the runway.”

Ben laughs, shakes his head. Lynne looks back down at the weather report. This close, he can see the dark circles under her eyes.

“You going anywhere after Bethel?” He asks, careful to keep his tone light.

“I’ve got a friend who’s stationed at Fort Lewis in Washington now,” Lynne says, “I called her last night, she says I can crash with her and her husband until I figure something out.”

“That’s good,” Ben nods, “I got a buddy that works the desk for Alaska Airlines, Don Koenig. Show him your military ID and remind him that he owes me one. He should be able to get you on a jump seat to Tacoma.”

“Oh,” Lynne blinks at him in surprise, “You don’t have to do that Ben.”

Ben shrugs.

“If you need out of town, you need out of town.”

Lynne stares. Her eyes are too bright. Ben shifts uncomfortably in place, unsure of what to do with her looking at him like that.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

[theoutsiders-luvr]

Darrel x Reader:

Summary: Darrel assures Reader of their worry’s and helps them study for college.

Authors note: I had this idea and just had to write it! I think this is so cute! I hope you think so too!

Darrel didn’t mind that he had to drop out of college to take care of his brothers after his parent’s death. He would have done it a thousand times over again if it meant that they all got to stay together. You felt bad that you still stayed in college. It was only a short drive to campus so you stayed with Darrel, helping him take care of Pony and Soda.

He’d always been very supportive of you and your achievements. Making sure he congratulated you whenever you hit a milestone, understanding when you had to stay at school late to study. He would even help you study at times; sitting at the kitchen table when it was pitch black outside, helping you go through the flashcards you made for your class.

You always felt bad about it though. Like you were showing off, doing something he wasn’t able to do. But he never said anything about it. If anything, he was more than content to sit on the sidelines and cheer you on. Plus you still pulled your weight around the house, helping with the chores around the house, working part time at the diner, helping pay for bills.

Tonight, Darrel was working later than usual. His work was almost done with the roof they were working on so they decided to just get it done sooner rather than later. You told him not to worry, you made sure you were home, making dinner for Soda, Pony and whoever else happened to show up which was Johnny, Dallas and Steve. After dinner, Johnny, Pony and Dally decided to go to the drive-in and Steve and Soda decided to head down to the Drag Races for some action. You told them to be back before midnight and to be careful. They assured you they would be.

You watched as they left, practically skipping down the street, excited for all the activities ahead of them. You set aside a plate of dinner for Darry whenever he got home and washed the dishes so he wouldn’t have to. After that was done, you decided to do something homework. You’ve been dreading it all day. Your hardest classes were assigning the most homework. You had at least 3 exams, 2 essays and 5 other assignments due by the end of the week.

You brought your backpack into the kitchen and laid all your papers across the table, opting to work on the easiest things and work your way up. Admittedly, none of it was easy. You sat there, racking your brain for what felt like hours, just to get half of one paper done. After sitting there for a little while longer, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew if you kept working at it, you were going to get upset, break down into tears. So you took the advice that you always gave to Pony when he stressed over his homework, just take a step back and come back with a clear mind.

You pushed your chair back as you stood up, leaving all of your papers on the table and walked into your’s and Darrel’s room. You got changed out of your everyday clothes into one of Darrel’s shirts and some comfy pants. Wearing his shirts always comforted you whenever you needed it. You turned off the over head light, turning on the lamp by the beside, crawling under the covers and picking up a book to begin reading. You hadn’t had time to read for fun often, and honestly, even while reading right now you’re mind was on all the work that was in the room over, sitting there, waiting for you to finish it, to fail at it.

When Darrel finally pulled up, he had expected there to be noise bustling from the house. But it was silent. He was confused as he walked in the door, kicking off his shoes; he didn’t hear any noise from the boys, any talking or yelling. He didn’t even see you on the couch, waiting for him like you usually did.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he walked into the kitchen to try to find you.

“Y/N?” He called out softly but there was no answer. He finally rounded the corner and saw the empty kitchen but the table covered in papers, stacks of them, sprawled out across the wood, unable to see the top of it. He looked around a little more, seeing the dishes drying, his plate set aside. He walked to the table and picked up one of the papers, seeing your name scribbled on the top and only half of the paper done. He sighed emphatically as he set it down, walking softly down the hall.

He slowly opened the door to your shared room, “Y/N?” He asked again softly, pushing the door open all the way, seeing your clothes forgotten on the floor. He looked up to see you on his side of the bed, in one of his shirts that was hanging off your body. You only ever wore his shirts whenever something was wrong, it made you feel like you were enveloped in his embrace.

Your eyes were tired and strained as they were trained on the book, not moving. You weren’t even reading anymore, just staring at the same page. He slowly crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly.

“Nothing, Dar. Just tired” You lied and he knew it. But what were you going to tell him? Your girlfriend is being bested by a few college classes while you’ve gone through hard times your whole life. Yeah, that wasn’t gonna work. You kept your gaze fixed on the book, you knew as soon as you looked at him, your dam was going to fall, he was going to see through the façade.

He gently put his hand on the book, pushing it down slightly. “C’mon sweetheart. I can tell something’s up.” He said, his gentle eyes were locked on you, wishing you would just look at him so he could see your pretty face.

“And how do you know that?” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Your homework is still on the kitchen table, barely done. The dishes are done and you hate doing the dishes because of the feel of the water. Your clothes are still on the floor and you always pick them up, fold them or put them in the dirty clothes. You’re lying on my side of the bed wearing one of my shirts. Reading a book that you haven’t read in forever with the only light being the bedside lamp. And you won’t even look at me to show me that pretty face or beautiful eyes of yours.” While he spoke he crawled into bed next to you, on your side since you were in his. He gently hooked a finger under your chin to make you look at him.

Damnit, you thought. He knows you too well. He always focused on the little things. Making sure every part of you was noticed. It was a blessing and a curse at times.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He said, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

You snuggled into his side as you spoke, “It’s just school, Dar.”

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer into him as you both relaxed against the headboard. “It’s not ‘just school’, sweetheart. Why don’t you want to tell me? You know you can tell me anything.” He said, so confident that you could talk to him about anything. It was true, he was usually the first one you went to for anything. Whenever you were happy, upset or just needed someone to talk to.

You sighed, “because, Dar. My problems aren’t as big as yours. My problems don’t matter.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” He said sternly. “Your problems matter just as much as mine. Now tell me what’s going on inside that little head of yours.” He said with a smile on his face.

You knew there was no getting out of this one now. “I have so many assignments and I don’t understand any of them. They’re all due at the end of the week and I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to get them done.”

“How many do you have?” He asked as he searched your face, he was looking for any emotion other than stress, worry and sadness.

“3 exams, 2 essays and 5 assignments.” You said, burying your face into his chest. He frowned slightly, you had a lot on your plate. Sure, he had a lot too but you always down played your own.

He started to run his fingers in lazy circles and shapes up and down your back. “I can help you if you’d like. We can make flashcards like always for your exams. I saw a few math papers buried under the rest that I can help you with. I used to be real good at math. I might be a little rusty but I’m sure if we put our brains together we can figure them out. We can save your essays for later, okay? It’ll all be okay, sweetheart. I’ll help you through it. Does that sound okay?” He spoke quietly, almost at a whisper, not wanting to make things worse by talking to sternly.

You nodded into his chest, “that sounds good.” He smiled down at you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. You smiled slightly and pulled back enough to look at him. When you did, he took the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss.

When he pulled away, he looked at you lovingly but there was a question lingering in the back of his head. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” You responded, laying your head on his chest. Listening to his constant heartbeat, breathing in the smell of him.

“How come you didn’t want to tell me what was wrong? You always tell me.” He asked, hurt slightly at the fact that you didn’t feel like you could go to him.

“Because, Dar. You’ve gone through so much. You’ve been strong through it all and I can’t even be strong enough to finish a few assignments.”

His eyes saddened slightly. “Sweetheart, that doesn’t matter. If somethings bothering you then it’s a big deal, okay?”

You reluctant at first but then nodded. “Okay, Dar.” He smiled at that.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke up again. “You know, I like seeing you in my shirts.” He laid his chin on your head with a smile evident on his face. That was able to pull a small giggle out of you. That sound warmed his heart. He loved the sound of your laugh. It was his favorite sound in the world.

“How about we go start some of that work?” He asked, looking down at you. You pushed yourself up and nodded, sliding off the bed as he stood up. You both walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. You first separated all your work by class and started with, in both of your guys’ opinion, the easiest class. Math. He sat with you and walked you through each step, showing you how to solve the equation you were working on. Your head rested on his shoulder as you watched him solve the problem.

He wasn’t rusty at all. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought he was in college. He should go to college, you thought. It was true. He would thrive in college, but he had too many outside responsibilities. After you finished all the math worksheets, he pulled you into your lap while you read your school book for the 2 essays while he made flashcards for your chemistry class. It was a quiet moment shared between the two of you. It was nice to be able to share moments of silence that weren’t awkward.

You guys stayed up for hours, working together on all of your assignments, leaving only one essay to do the next day. When Pony and Soda got home, you were still up studying. You guys finally finished and went to bed at some time around 3:00 in the morning. He knew he had work in the morning and had to get up early. You tried to get him to go to bed but he refused, because he’d rather help you study. He’d be tired, sure, but being tired wasn’t worse than having you stressed.

You both crawled into bed, you still wore his shirt and quickly fell asleep in his arms, your head laying on your chest. He stayed awake a little longer than you, just so he could see the softness of your face while you slept. The worry melted away, the pain that was there earlier, now long gone. He loved it. He pressed a little kiss to your forehead before drifting off into his own sleep world.

[safeturnip]

landscaping your mind. and by mind, well. let's just say. space

words: 4.0k

characters: Grian, GoodTimesWithScar

summary: Grian goes to visit Scar after a particularly horrendous series of events on Impossible Minecraft. Somehow, they get to talking about space and stars and the night sky.

(written for round 1 of soul searching for @mcyt-soulmate-sweepstakes !!)

AO3 link

***

Wind howled in Grian’s ears and yanked at his hair and clothes as he plunged downwards through the sky. He flung out his wings to catch himself seconds before hitting the ground, catching an updraft and rocketing back up, leaving his stomach on the ground behind him. Yet even the rush of flying wasn't enough to dissipate the tight knot of frustration in his chest. 

He made loose, swooping circles in the air, as if he could leave the grating memories of repetitive failure behind him. Hours of his life gone, wasted from throwing himself at an Ancient City again and again, dying by wardens or sculk or other stupid means as him and his friends struggled to collect enough echo shards to craft a recovery compass. Jimmy and Gem were—aside from Grian—the last to leave the server, gone to convalesce from their hellish ordeal, and in their absence Grian had decided to get the recovery compass crafted. 

And when he discovered it needed not four, but eight echo shards, he’d nearly hurled their too-few shards into a pool of lava out of frustration. He didn’t, thankfully; common sense stepped in at the last moment to prevent him from undoing their hours of hard work, but it had been a near thing. Entirely fed up with Impossible Minecraft, fed up with being constantly on edge from everything trying to kill him, Grian had returned to Hermitcraft to decompress and get his head back on straight. He needed to do something that didn’t make him want to put his head through a brick wall or scream into a pillow or fly off into the wilderness, never to be seen again. 

The ground rushed by underneath him in a blur of green and brown and grey. Irritation still clung stubbornly to him, and Grian forced his teeth to unclench, angling himself upwards to catch a rapidly flowing jet stream. He flew faster and faster, until his thoughts were drowned out by the sound of air rushing past his ears. 

After a few more minutes of mindless flying, Grian began to feel calmer and less like he needed to eat a chunk of concrete. He leveled out into an easy glide, pushing his windblown hair away from his face. It was then that he spotted Scar’s train car to his left, hung suspended off the ground by the hundreds of balloons attached to its black roof, the red of its walls a sharp contrast to the cloudless blue sky surrounding it. Deciding to pay his friend a visit, Grian angled himself in the direction of the floating train car. 

Grian swooped in through the open doorway, tucking his wings in close to keep from knocking them into the walls. Pausing next to the hat-covered hat rack, he spotted Scar instantly. He was hatless and sitting in his brightly lit art studio, facing away from Grian. A breeze coming in through the open window ruffled the ends of his brown hair as he moved his brush across a dark-coloured canvas. He was completely absorbed in his work; he didn’t seem to have noticed Grian’s arrival at all. Grian couldn’t stop the mischievous grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth—with a perfect opportunity like this, what was he supposed to do, not take it?

He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, keeping his footsteps as soundless as possible as he crept forward. Closer, closer, until he was directly behind Scar, close enough that if he brought his hand up, he would have hit Scar’s shoulder. Completely oblivious, Scar continued happily painting away, dabbing the end of his brush against his palette to pick up more white paint before bringing it back up to the canvas. 

“What doin’?”

Scar yelped, flinching violently away from Grian’s voice. His brush jolted across the canvas, leaving a trail of white behind in its wake, before falling out of Scar’s grasp and clattering to the floor. Unable to help himself, Grian burst out laughing, slapping the back of Scar’s chair once, before sinking down into a crouch, still mired in amusement. 

“Grian.” Scar’s breathing was ragged, his green eyes a little panicked, his hand pressed dramatically to his chest. “I—you—oh my god, you can’t just sneak up on a man like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” 

Grian merely laughed harder, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Scar reached over to shove at his shoulder, and Grian let himself topple over and fall onto his side. It took him a minute, but Grian finally got himself under control as Scar stared down at him with an expression that somehow managed to be both wounded and judgemental. While he was still on the floor, he spotted Scar’s paintbrush and picked it up before rising to stand. 

“Whoooo . . .” Grian wiped at his eyes. “Oh, this is exactly what I needed, thank you, Scar.” 

“Why, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing major,” Grian said, handing Scar’s brush back to him, a silent form of apology. “Just been a rough couple of days.” 

Scar took the proffered brush and set it down on the desk beside him. “I get that. I mean, that’s why I’m in here working on this—” he gestured to his work in front of him “—instead of out there finishing up my trees. I’m too tired to be running and flying around all over the place.” 

Tucking his hands behind his back, Grian leaned over Scar’s shoulder to appraise the canvas. “Whatcha painting?” 

Scar’s arms came halfway up in an aborted motion as though he were trying to hide his work, but then he stopped and let his hands drop back into his lap. “It’s . . . going to be the night sky?” he said, his smile tipping towards unintentional self-consciousness. “It’s not really anything right now, though. I literally just started.” 

Not really anything was a gross understatement of Scar’s ability: ignoring the random streak of white that slashed diagonally across it, the painting was beautiful. Even with his near-nonexistent knowledge of the visual arts, Grian could still see that. The corners of the canvas had been painted a deep, inky black that transitioned into a dark ultramarine, the colour of an ocean at night. Brighter patches of pale blue and pink had been daubed overtop the darker base colour, feathered and wispy around the edges, looking like drops of dye unfurling in a container of water. White had been splattered and dotted and speckled here and there, forming constellations of stars. It was so vivid that Grian almost felt he was looking at a cut-out piece of the night sky itself. Scar’s painting was undeniably gorgeous, sure, but . . .

Grian looked pointedly out of the window where the sun was still high in the sky, then back at the painting. “It’s the middle of the day, bro.” 

“Well, you know how it is,” Scar said, in his I may have made a Not Smart decision, but I’m too far in now to back out of that decision voice. “Inspiration just strikes at the most random of times, and who am I to ignore its call?” 

“Right.” Grian shifted his focus away from the painting to study Scar. There was a small splotch of blue paint on his cheekbone right above a pale scar, and there were matching faint streaks of paint across the front of his khaki shirt. Scar was staring absently into the distance, seemingly lost in thought and unaware of Grian’s scrutiny of him. He was rolling his hand over the brushes on the desk beside him; there was paint smudged across his fingers and palms, which Grian reckoned explained the paint on his clothes and face. I’m tired, Scar had said earlier, and Grian could see evidence of that in his rumpled clothes and the beginnings of dark shadows forming under his eyes. Grian lightly leaned his arm against Scar’s shoulder and asked, “You okay?” 

“Me?” Scar seemed momentarily startled by the question, before his expression slipped back into an easy smile. “Oh, I’m great.” He picked up the shortest brush on the table and started spinning it between his fingers. “Or, I mean, I’m—I know that I just need to rest for a bit, and I’ll be back to normal in no time.” The movement of the brush slowed to a stop, and Scar pressed his fingertip to the end of the handle. “Company’s appreciated, though. Cub came over to visit me in the morning, and Skizz said he’d drop by in the afternoon. And you being here right now is a pleasant surprise, as always. So, yeah, I’m good!” He punctuated this statement by angling his head to meet Grian’s eyes, that breezy expression still fixed on his face. 

Grian hummed in response, not entirely convinced, but let the matter drop. Turning back to the canvas, Grian frowned slightly at the out-of-place line of white, a crack running through a stained glass window. “I do feel a little bad about your painting, is there—”

“It’s fine,” Scar interrupted, easily waving off his concern. “It’s acrylic paint; I’ll just paint over it after it dries. And—hey, didn’t you say you’ve been having a rough time? Well! Today’s your lucky day, because I—” Scar grabbed his cane and stood up “—have just the thing for you.” And before Grian could protest or even respond to that abrupt change in topic, Scar had already headed off to one of the adjacent rooms. 

He wasn’t gone for long. When he returned, he nudged Grian off to the side, then placed a bed with brown sheets down on the stone floor. Patting the headboard, he aimed a benevolent smile at Grian and said, “Come lay down, rest your weary bones.” 

Grian raised an eyebrow, but gamely moved to lie down on the bed. As per usual, it was something of an ordeal to get into a comfortable position without twisting his wings. He ended up lying down on his back, his wings splayed out in a way to ensure they wouldn’t be crushed, his fingers locked together over his stomach, and his legs crossed at the ankle. Turning his head to the side he asked, “What now, Scar?” 

Scar had already sat back down in front of his canvas, a brush in his hand and cheeriness in his voice when he responded, “Now you get to listen to a brand-new, never-heard-before, exclusive-release episode of Landscaping Your Mind! Don’t you feel honoured? Don’t you feel excited?” 

“I haven’t felt anything in years,” Grian deadpanned. 

Scar ignored him. “Just lay back, relax, and let the—the gentle tones of my sweet voice lull you into a sense of peace and wellbeing.” He tilted his head as he considered the canvas before him, then raised his brush and started painting over the streak of white Grian had left behind. 

“I—” Grian huffed and moved to get off the bed. “Scar, I don’t have the time for this, I need to . . .” He’d planned to return to Impossible Minecraft after a short break on Hermitcraft to try and get a few more echo shards, because what better way was there to stop being hung up over something than to go and do it all again? Even though the frustration still lingered, gnawing incessantly at the back of his mind, he’d figured it had lessened enough for him to give raiding the Ancient City another go. 

Scar twisted so that he was sitting sideways in his chair, hooking an arm around the backrest so he could properly face Grian, and something about his expression made Grian’s half-formed protests fade away on his tongue. It wasn’t disappointment, necessarily—Scar was smiling too much for it to be disappointment—but it was a close version of it, something that made Grian feel that maybe going to collect more echo shards wasn’t as big of a priority anymore. He could take a few minutes of his day to spend some time with Scar. 

(And there was a voice in his mind that sounded unnervingly close to Mumbo’s urging him to relax, to take a break.)

After a pause, Grian slowly settled back down on the bed, folding his hands over his stomach. When Scar continued staring at him, Grian flicked his fingers in a sort of go on gesture, and Scar turned back toward his painting. Without any preamble, Scar cleared his throat, a theatrical noise to signal the start of his performance. “Landscaping Your Mind: Chapter . . . Ten? Sure, we’ll go with ten.

“You’re lying down on a bed with a mattress made from the softest feathers, cozy and comfortable and delightful. At this moment in time, all of your problems have melted away, all your problems no longer hold any influence in your life. It’s just you, the bed, and your mind, floating free from any troubles, free as a bird soaring high in the sky.” 

Scar’s voice had shifted away from his customary cheerfulness and had dropped into what Grian liked to think of as his “narrator voice”: low and smooth, his tone warm and soothing, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day. It was a voice Grian couldn’t help but listen to, a voice that chased away all other thoughts in his mind, drowning out their clamour and leaving behind nothing but quiet. 

“In the distance, you can hear the sound of the wind rustling through trees.” Scar had continued working on his painting, the soft rasp of brush bristles against canvas barely audible underneath the sound of his voice. “You can’t see the trees, but you can picture them easily in your mind: they are tall and strong and have been standing for hundreds of years. Their roots stretch far, far into the ground, and their branches stretch far, far up into the sky. What significance do your problems truly have in the face of these ancient, unwavering trees? 

“And now: take a moment to refocus on yourself.” 

Blinking, Grian was startled to find he’d zoned out somewhere in the middle of Scar’s monologue, that he’d let his eyes go unfocused as he stared up at the roof of Scar’s train car. He pushed away the faint fog of disorientation, refocusing on Scar as he said, “Once you’re back, breathe in . . .”

Grian inhaled. 

“. . . and breathe out . . .”

Grian exhaled. 

“. . . and take a moment to just,” Scar paused for a beat, long enough that Grian idly if something had gone wrong with his painting, but Scar continued before he could start worrying, “concentrate on all the separate parts of your body: Your head and chest and limbs. Your brain and heart and bones. All of them working in harmony to keep you alive, to keep you breathing and moving and blinking. 

“Now think of your body as a whole: How does it feel? Is it relaxed? Filled with tension? Regardless of how it feels, take a moment to locate all the muscles of your body. Found them? Now tense all of them at once—” Grian complied, feeling the strain go through his body, his feathers trembling slightly from exertion “—feel the stiffness and the effort it takes to hold that. Now relax your muscles, let all that stress leave your body; there should only be calm looseness remaining. 

“Hey, have you ever thought about drinking paint water?” 

“What?” 

Scar giggled at Grian’s taken-aback reaction, but didn’t turn to face him. “Dude, yeah, I once heard about this artist who accidentally drank their paint water after putting their coffee right next to it. I guess they just grabbed the nearest cup and automatically drank from it. Not fun times for them, for sure.” As he spoke, Scar dipped his brush into his own paint cup, a sturdy looking wide-based mug with a pattern of paw prints chasing each other around the sides. 

“But now I’m like, constantly terrified that I’m gonna grab my paint cup and just drink from it without thinking. This is why I never have any drinks near me while I’m painting.” There was a soft clinking noise as the handle of his brush knocked against ceramic. 

“I never knew painting came with so many risks,” Grian said, turning to face the ceiling again, and Scar laughed quietly. 

“Oh, absolutely. You thought everything on Impossible Minecraft was scary, how ‘bout you try being an artist. Anyways, where were we? Oh, right.” Scar’s voice lowered back down to his narrator register. 

“You may not be able to see the trees, but what you can see is the sky above you, huge and expansive and magnificent. It’s such an interesting thing, the sky. You see it every day, all the time—it’s there with you always. But do you ever stop to really look at it? And I don’t mean the passing glimpses you steal when you're rushing from one activity to the next like a chicken with its head on fire, but just stop everything you’re doing to look at it.” 

Grian let out a shuddering breath as Scar’s words continued to wash over him, a gentle rain storm passing over a green meadow. Slowly, distantly, he could feel the hard tangle of frustration in his chest begin to unravel, the ache of his failures drifting further and further away. 

“Well, you can look at the sky now!” Scar paused, and in the silence Grian could hear the sound of Scar drumming his fingers on his desk in thought. Eventually, he said, “And what a sky it is. It’s the middle of the night, you’re away from any arti—arbitrary sources of light, and the sky is a dark, dark black, the darkest you’ve ever seen it. And embedded in that black is the shining brilliance of hundreds of millions of stars. Everywhere you look, you can see them. Single stars by themselves, clusters of stars so close they look like one big mass of light, stars arranged in constellations you don’t even know the names of. It’s the sort of sky that makes you feel small—but not in a bad way. Just . . . in a way that makes you realize how big, how expansive, how—heh—how impossible the universe really is.” 

Lolling his head to the side, Grian peered at the back of his friend’s head. “I notice we’ve moved away from the ‘landscaping’ theme.” 

Even though Scar was facing away from him, Grian could still hear the smile in Scar’s voice when he said, “Can you blame me? Look at what I’ve been working on; of course I have space on the brain.” 

Scar took a moment to adjust his easel, bringing the canvas down so he could reach one of the top corners without having to stand up. Once he finished, he smoothly picked up his monologue from where he’d momentarily placed it off to the side. 

“You can’t see them, but there are planets in the sky as well, tucked among all the stars. Take a moment to think about them: Those great spheres of rock or ice or vapour, so incredibly enormous that a single planet directly in front of you wouldn’t even fit in your field of view. Oh, but make sure you don’t forget that beneath the mattress you lay on, beneath the bed frame, is your own planet, ever-turning through the endless everything of the universe. That surface of grass and dirt and rock is the only thing stopping you from being flung through the infinite void of space forever.” 

Floating in the comforting haze of Scar’s voice, Grian couldn’t help but recall how his friend had mentioned he’d also been feeling somewhat run-down lately. He turned his head to search for any strain in the line of Scar’s shoulders, the slope of his neck, but found nothing—or Scar was just very good at hiding it. Looking away from Scar, Grian couldn’t help but worry that his presence was more of a bother than a comfort, that his being here was forcing Scar to keep up a performance, forcing him to focus on making Grian feel better instead of taking care of himself. 

“And now, let’s return to the stars.” Oblivious to Grian’s concerns, Scar continued talking. “Those great celestial balls of light and heat, trapped in their forever cycles of death and rebirth, from a cloud-like nebula to an incandescent supernova and back again. Each one of those sparkling points of light is like one of your memories or thoughts. A brief burst of brilliance against the dark, infinite possibilities in each star. Can you imagine that? Having as many memories and experiences as there are stars in the sky?” 

Because he couldn’t help himself, Grian looked back at Scar, this time focusing on the painting instead of his friend. He couldn’t tell if anything had actually been added to the piece, but in his defence he was less than an expert in matters of art. It still looked as beautiful as it did when Grian had first laid eyes on it, a swath of the cosmos captured and contained in a metre-by-metre square of canvas. It didn’t come as any surprise that Scar was an amazing painter; his builds and terrain that he created were forms of art in and of themselves. Even here in his art studio there was a shelf dedicated specifically to Scar’s sketchbooks, every page covered with pencil sketches and charcoal still lifes and landscapes rendered in watercolour paints. 

Then, with a light jolt like the sensation of a blanket settling around his shoulders, Grian realized that Scar hadn’t fully erased the line of white he’d caused. Instead, Scar had incorporated it into his painting, turning it into a spray of stars that trailed dreamily across the canvas. It fit in so seamlessly with the rest of his painting that you couldn’t even tell it had been a mistake in the first place. Against his will, a sort of pleased happiness bloomed to life in Grian’s chest at the sight. 

Scar let out a self-satisfied hum as he appraised the painting before him, before continuing: “Yet all stars burn themselves out eventually. Maybe it’s a reminder that everything in the universe is finite, that there is an end to everything you start. Oh, but don’t focus on that ending. Focus instead on the present—on the stars that are suns to their own solar systems of planets and comets and asteroids, on the stars that join hands to become constellations, on the stars that sit in the sky by themselves, yet burn just as bright as . . .” 

Now that he thought about it, Grian could admit that it had been a while since he’d hung out with Scar. He’d been so busy with Impossible Minecraft, and Scar hadn’t felt up to being on a server where everything was actively trying to kill him that it had been ages since they’d last spent time with each other. Company’s appreciated, Grian remembered Scar saying. Pressing his fingers to the bones of his knuckles, Grian wondered if him just hanging out with Scar—as simple a thing as it was—was enough for him. He hoped so, hoped his presence was having at least a modicum of the effect that Scar’s easy rambling was on him. 

The soothing cadence of Scar’s voice tugged him gently away from his worries, and Grian let himself float in a state of thoughtless calm. The stress and frustration over gathering echo shards had been overwritten with Scar’s detailed description of the night sky; his mind was filled with star dust and wheeling solar systems and the fading tails of comets. His body was relaxed and solid where it rested against the soft bed, his surroundings faded into a blur of red and grey. Grian let his eyelids drift shut as Scar’s monologue continued on in the background.

“. . . because no matter what happens to you, no matter what problems you may have, the stars are still going to be there, shimmering away against that black blanket of the night sky. And you lay there on your bed, staring up at the stars, staring up into that endless universe, and you feel . . .”

[lenaariewrld]

C.30 — settled in

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

After getting through customs– which took considerably shorter than you would’ve thought thanks to Diluc’s help –and retrieving your luggage, you officially found yourself on break. You followed dutifully behind Diluc as he led the way towards the front where a family car would be waiting to pick the two of you up. Despite being wealthy, and not batting an eye at the five figure cost of tickets and housing he’s got, him and his family are still pretty humble. He pushes a few of your suitcases in front of his own while you carry the smaller bags.

You try to relax, to listen to the calming music in your headphones, and take in the environment of the airport. The air is crisp with a chill, and there’s a thin layer of snow piled in corners or caught on the edge of roofs. It’s cute. The whole way to the car, though, you keep getting distracted. Your head turns this way and that as your eyes play tricks on you, catching glimpses of Childe. Or you think you do. You realise it’s just a stranger with orange hair or a man wearing familiar clothes but sporting unfamiliar features.

With another shake of your head, you keep your eyes squarely on Diluc’s back, ducking into the car after helping him load up the suitcases. “You okay?” He asks quietly as he settles into the backseat beside you. You rest your head on his shoulder. His coat is soft and his body is warm.

You both get to Diluc’s home shortly after. “Y/n!” Diluc’s father is greeting you as soon as you step onto the front patio, a gracious smile on his lips. His crow’s feet dive deeper into his features as he approaches his literal and figurative children with open arms. He pulls you into a warm hug. “My, you’ve gotten taller since last year,” He smooths your hair away from your face.

“I’m just wearing chunky shoes, I think,” You excuse, laughing when he pulls a ‘that doesn’t sound right’ type of expression. “It’s good to see you too,” You tell him as you hug him back. Once you step back and let Diluc greet his father, you take in the giant mansion they claim as their home. Two floors of magnificent dark oak wood and hundreds of acres of vineyard (ones currently closed for the season) stretched behind and beside it.

“Don’t let me keep you two, settle in,” Crepus says to you both before departing inside, urging you both to join him for dinner. You agree heartily, pulling your bags from the backseat. Adelinde, the maid, helps you and Lucky finish trudging everything inside and to your designated rooms.

Your heart warms as Adelinde opens to door to one of the spare bedrooms, the same one you’ve always stayed in, and find it decorated with the things you’d left or moved to the way you like them. It’s touching that they converted it into ‘your’ room. Even if it wasn’t always yours, it is now, at least in their eyes.

You put your things away and hang up your coat and scarf, looking around the room. The spacious bed is soft, with a thick duvet in your favorite color, a thin pattern of flowers crocheted into the top. The nightstand holds a phone charger, lamp, and a small cup for you to put your jewelry away before you head to bed. A bookcase is pushed on the left wall of the room, right between two windows that look out over the vineyards. Other pieces of furniture are scattered to the most convenient places for you, like a wardrobe, a desk, a vanity, and a shoe rack. Your hand drags weightlessly against the end of the bed.

You remember your first time sleeping in this house. When you were just twelve years old. It was your first spat with your parents, and your mother had locked you out of the house. Diluc was the only person you knew besides Lumine, but she was never available past 10pm. So you called him and within the hour, you were in his home and curled up in his bed with him, the two of you in matching pajamas while he read a book out loud to ease you to sleep.

A lot had changed since then. And yet so much had stayed the same too.

With your reminiscing over, you take a deep breath and exit the room, heading for the giant main living room. You lounge around the fancy house, soaking in the peacefulness and warmth of the home. A fire roars in the hearth, after Adelinde helped you light it. You scroll on your phone mindlessly, reading twitter threads and tiktoks that make you giggle stupidly. It eases your mind, gives you peace, and helps you forget the sadness of your ‘real’ life.

A couple more hours pass, and you find yourself binging a cringy TV drama while you lounge on a loveseat, curled up with a blanket. Your phone goes off with a soft twinkling chime, and your attention is town from the needlessly over-the-top acting in the show. You check it to see Cyno had texted you.

With a sigh, you put your phone away and sink back onto the couch, burying yourself in the fluffy blanket draped over your waist. Your hurt didn’t feel as visceral now. It wasn’t like a clawing monster trying to escape out of you, racking your body with sobs and making your chest ache. It didn’t feel like a new crack formed and leaked whenever you thought of Childe, or were reminded of him. You just felt… blank. Unsure.

Diluc knocks on the doorway, and you look up, realising you hadn’t even realised the show was still paused. You were too deep in your head still. “Enjoying the fire?” He asks, glancing briefly at the flames flickering in the stone hearth. You close your laptop and sigh.

“Yeah, it’s relaxing,” You tell him with a soft smile, forcing it a little. You move your legs out of the way and pat the cushion beside, wordlessly asking him to join you. He sits, grunting as he does like an old man. “What’cha got there?” You peek over his shoulder at the book tucked under his elbow.

He shows you the cover, a copy of Romeo and Juliet that you recognise right in front of you. It was the first gift you ever gave the man, and it was a book he reread almost everytime you two came back to visit.

You smile, tucking your computer away and leaning into the back of the sofa. “Read it to me,” You tell him, though it still comes out as a half-question. Diluc smiles fondly, shaking his head as if frustrated by your demands, and cracks open the book.

The both of you relax before doing anything else, taking in the rest of the evening with the book or the last few episodes of the season you were watching. You knew before long though, that Diluc and his father would convince you to go into town with them. It was tradition. The first night you always went shopping for things to cook together, and made a meal all by yourselves, occasionally paired with glasses of wine (you remember being fifteen and asking for a glass yourself the first time, and you remember the way Crepus had chuckled fondly at your rosy cheeks and switched out your glass for grape juice soon after).

You didn’t mind the tradition, and it made your heart full. All you had to worry about for the rest of this break was being home. Being comfortable, and picking yourself back up when you came back from it all..

———

A/Ns: BWAAA im so sorry this update took forever <//3 i promise a double update today, but unfortunately i will have to slow updates. i have to ✨ move✨, so trying to do that on top of my job makes it hard to keep up these updates. I promise i'm not going on a hiatus or anything though !! as usualy tho; likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to get ur water intake today lovelies

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain @kazumiku @hanilessa @nrviine @wren-art @state-of-grac3 @definitely-not-leena @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @tikitsune @hwngti @trulylee @basicsofdying @starriylover

[mullermilkshake]

Twelve days of fluffmas

On the sixth day of fluffmas, my true love gave to me...

Yakuza!Sukuna being affentionate.

Day seven

Yakuza!Sukuna x Wife!reader Tags: Yakuza AU, established relationships, acts of service, mentions of starting a family, surprises, affection, babies

Being married to the Yakuza Chairman, there was never much time to be enjoying Christmas. In honesty, you loved it.

Twinkling lights upon a snow capped roof piled with nails and staples to secure the icicle drop of each bulb and how each colour was right where it should be carefully placed with care.

It was the only time you chose drinking chocolate in a little cafe and wore a thick scarf when the snow started to fall. Ryomen headquarters gardens sat so beautifully the next morning after snowfall all night long. The crunch underneath shoes was surreal and thick and crispy to the ears when it was untouched.

A few years now and Christmas isn't so celebrated, the hallways still so bare and gardens still so dark despite the lit lanterns. It was missing something. Something cheerful.

The thing was, Sukuna didn't celebrate it as such. There was never a time for him to do so growing up so it never held anything close to his heart. Not like you.

You grew up with family and traditions at Christmas. He did not.

So you knew brought it up. And there was a knock at your office door.

That was odd. No one besides your husband was permitted to enter. You left your desk and approached the door with a frown, Sukuna never knocked when he emerged from the meeting room, he merely entered.

"What is it-" it was Sukuna.

Stepping back you opened it from a crack to enough to let him in. "You never knock, is the world ending?"

"I'd be kicking it down if the world was ending," his hands were thrown into his pockets, shirt unbuttoned a few. "I came to show you something."

There was something about his stance, his tone of voice though still gruff it sat much softer in his throat. His eyes almost delicate as he watched you think of your next words.

"Alright."

"Get your coat, it's outside," you stopped yourself from opening the door right away and picked up your coat from the rack in the corner.

Outside, in this cold? Sukuna didn't ever like the cold. In fact, he would often moan if it was cold enough to require heating the room up.

Naturally you were intrigued by this gesture alone. Whatever it was sure had to be important enough to warrant all this fuss from him.

He led you to the back door without another word, taking your hand silently and stopping you right before he was to open it.

"Before we step outside, I must be honest with you," he didn't turn to face you, but he still had your hand in his. "My absence has been noted, you don't need to tell me that. But there are some things I want to discuss with you, I just don't know how. So I hope this is a step in the right direction."

While it was true that his meetings were more frequent than usual, it was your own common knowledge that things just seemed to pick up around holidays.

Just because Sukuna was the Chairman, it did not make him exempt from peak times throughout the year.

But for him to go about speaking with you in this way, whatever was on his mind was big.

"Okay, Love."

He opened the door straight out onto the back gardens. Whilst the immediate instinct was to look towards the light lanterns for light, the garden was brighter than usual.

Because there were Christmas lights strewn about the place. They blinked and twinkled just like those lights you thought about on the snow capped roof. Amber and multicoloured pools of light around the lanterns and over hedges and guttering.

It was beautiful.

"I'm aware you enjoy this stuff. And I've been a miserable bastard the past few years with letting more light in," he cleared his throat and mumbled the rest though when you concentrated, you heard it clearly. "You are all the light that I need..."

Still holding his hand kept you grounded, it was a grand gesture that buying the world could not replicate. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Now Sukuna did many acts of service, mostly in private. This however was the most public display he'd given you since your wedding day.

He looked back at you for the first time, moving a strand of hair from your eyes. "You put up with me, not many people do."

It wasn't necessarily the case of putting up with Sukuna like everybody claimed. You just got on. The attitude that was in stuff of legends you never saw and you were confident that you could tame it if you really had to, but you never needed to.

"I love you, of course I put up with you."

"I can say the same," there was no change in his expression, it was all in his tone of voice that remained softer than ever.

"What are you having trouble discussing with me?"

If you had blinked in that moment, you would have missed the slight exaggeration in his eyes as they widened ever so slightly.

"Well, there's a matter of our marriage," clearing his throat was an obvious sign of how, dare you say it, nervous he was. "I think it's time we move ahead and think of the future."

Your marriage to Sukuna had been going almost six years strong, you weren't quite sure what he meant. "How so?"

"Well, when we're gone and buried, who do we leave all this to?"

"You want to have a baby?" for a moment, your stomach did flips.

Until now, a baby had never ever been mentioned. For a time you were unsure if that was something he wanted. So all this time he had been thinking of how to bring it up and he was stuck on how to do it.

"With you, yes," he nodded and got in a little closer to you. "If you want to that is."

It was entirely your choice.

At no point in your life did you ever think you would be in this life, staring at the Chairman of a Yakuza clan with a wedding band on your finger.

It all just seemed right.

"I could get used to the idea of a baby or two running about the place."

Sukuna leant in and rubbed his nose with yours. Delicately. Lovingly. "Those little brats would own this place in a week. I can already see the trouble they'd cause."

"So we'll try then?"

"See where life takes us." There was no man like Sukuna.

And you doubted there ever would be either.

[keruimi]

His Lost Love

Muichiro Tokito x reader

Warning! Angst and Slight Comfort

When he hid the most painful thing he experienced after he became a Hashira until he forgot about it. But that deep scar was opened again when he met the person he chose to forget.

_____________________________

Here again, back at the mansion roofs. While the feelings of longing are still present to my life. It's been four years since I regained my memories.

Yet I still feel like something is missing.

I look at the moon as it manages to show me the view of the whole headquarters with the Hashiras' mansion buzzing with happiness.

It's been four years since we killed Muzan, yet there are still some demons alive and walking freely on the land.

Busy with the mission, I didn't notice I already turned eighteen.

I heard someone land on the roof that made me give a side glance and saw Tanjiro.

"What is it?" I asked him as I looked back at the scenery I never got bored of. I felt him sit beside me as he also looked at the view I was gazing at.

"You're here again"

I know. And I don't know the reason why I keep coming back here.

"Tanjiro" I called out for him as I sigh. "I feel empty but I can't remember the reason why"

I told him as I felt the cold breeze of the night. Just recalling that feeling makes my eyes glossy.

"I don't know why I always feel like there's a missing part of me" I admit as I lowered my head down and hid my face.

"Maybe because your twin brother is not here with you anymore..." He guessed but I shook my head as I wiped my tears away.

"No" I whispered. "I coped with his death through anger. It can't be him"

But maybe I am just overthinking?

Both of us got silent before a frantic crow ruined the silence around us.

"South East! South East! A demon is near the headquarters!" Tanjiro's crow repeated it like a broken record that made my companion stand from his position.

Our conversation were cut off short

"Well Muichiro, I'll be going"

I hummed in response before he went to the South East. I decided to enter my bedroom when I felt that the breeze was colder than usual.

And yet the moment I stepped inside my room, I saw the blue haori on the rack as I took a hold of it.

I knew I forgot about someone. Because when I took a hold of the Haori, it gave me a slight comfort as it brightly showed the ice patterns on it.

I felt another presence that made me look outside my window and saw again the blue mist in the form of a woman.

I took a step closer to it and as she usually does, she just caresses my cheek as my mind went somewhere again.

What if the blue mist is a remembrance of the person I forgot?

Out of all things, this mist always appears at night and never forgets to caress or show me comfort even though it was never physically.

But I feel it...

If I can just remember that person... Would I manage to quench the empty feeling deep inside me?

"South East! Back up in the South East!" I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard my crow speak as the blue mist disappeared with the wind.

I put my thoughts together as I wore the blue Haori for comfort on a cold night.

I immediately follow my crow to the forest and not even 10 minutes, I can already feel the aura of the demon.

They are indeed close to the headquarters.

I heard glass shattering and swords clacking as I observed the situation before me.

I saw Mitsuri and Tanjiro already fighting together yet Mitsuri still got blasted off that made me run to catch her.

"I thought we already slayed the upper moons?" She asked me in a worried tone as she picked herself back up while I looked back at the battle happening in front of me.

It seems like the Demon is used to ice as it defends herself from Tanjiro's Dragon techniques.

The demon was a woman with white hair that ends on her lower back.

I ready my stance as I took a hold of my sword.

"Mist Breathing Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Splash"

When I first attacked, the woman managed to jump back, barely avoiding it.

The moment I got closer to her, that's when I properly got to observe her form.

A familiar form...

The woman stopped from her movements as she didn't leave her gaze at me.

"Chiro..." The low whisper caught me off guard as my eyes widened like saucers in disbelief.

How can this demon know me?

Mist Breathing Third form

I started to think again as I ignored the words of the demon in front of me.

Scattering Mist Splash

She managed to avoid it with a slight groan of pain as I saw that I managed to graze one of her cheeks.

"Muichiro Tokito!" She shouted my full name that made me stop from my movements.

There was a slight anger and sadness in her eyes as she stands in the middle of the open area in the forest.

"Can't you remember me?"

A disgusting feeling nagged me behind as I kept my blank gaze on her figure.

She is just a demon, nothing more

But when I saw how her eyes glossed, my surroundings were covered in dark as a frame of the past was shown in front of me.

"Are you the new slayer?" I stop my training to look back at the girl who seems to be at the same age as me.

She has white hair with those cyan eyes. She somehow looks ethereal with that gentle smile that lingers on her face.

I ignored her as I took a hold of my sword again to continue training but when I swing it, another sword stops it.

"Let me be" those were the first words I told her as the girl just gave a warm smile before throwing my sword out of my hand using hers.

"You need to rest. Overworking never leads to a good outcome" she stated and before I got to cut her neck off, she took hold of my hand and dragged me through the porch of the mansion I was staying at and sat me down there.

"I'm a Hashira, what makes you think you can treat me this way?" I told her and didn't bother to hide the annoyance in my voice as I felt her wipe my hands with a cold towel.

"You let me though"

Her answer made an irk mark appear on my forehead. "I didn't give you the consent to drag me"

"You still let me drag you even though we both know you can just snatch yourself away from my grip" she stated that made me give up on arguing with her.

I was aware of the rules of these corporations yet I can't debate on it especially if it was a girl I'm talking to.

I just flick her head because I know I lost on that one and I heard a giggle from her after that.

I would forget about this anyways.

I manage to rest on the porch from the hellish training I'm making myself go through under the blazing heat of the sun.

After she treated my wounds, it felt like my hands were relaxed that made me think if she was a slayer that is being taught by the insect Hashira.

"Who are you staying with?" I ask her as she lets out a small grin before scooting close to me. "Why? Are you planning to visit me?"

"No" I deadpan that made her shoulder drop but she still maintains the smile on her face. "I am just wondering who is raising a bold girl like you. We are clearly different in status yet you didn't follow my instructions"

She just looks at the field in front of us as there is no ounce of fear in her eyes.

It seems like the master of this girl spoils her too much.

"I am Giyu-san's tsuguko" she informed me something about her as I thought who was that guy again.

But a Tsuguko is also a powerful person in the Demon Slayer corps.

"Are you lying or are you lying?" I ask her in a blank tone before standing up to train again.

"None of the above"

Her answer managed to lift a small smile on my lips. I don't seem to take care of having someone as carefree as her.

That day became our beginning towards an emotion called love.

She was always with me, and I began to love her presence around me. So this is what it feels like to have someone of the same age interested in swordsmanship.

She is the only one who can stop me from overworking myself like before. I managed to take care of my health when she was with me.

She has a comforting presence that I always found myself having a slumber every time I was with her.

I felt her run my soft hand on my long hair as I sighed in contentment until I heard her call me by my nickname she gave me.

"Chiro"

I hummed in response as I opened my eyes to look at her who had her usual soft gaze on me.

"I love you more than a friend..." She confessed one day we were resting under a tree.

Love?

Her confession made my heart beat quicken as I sat up to look at her. I look away in hesitation knowing about how I easily forget things.

If I accept her feelings, I might forget it but she wouldn't.

"Aren't we too young for that?"

I told her as I slightly turned my head in her direction as she leaned back on the tree.

"I know..." She whispered but she still lifted a small smile and looked at me. "I just want to let you know. I don't need an answer knowing you never thought of those"

She is brave. She knows the outcome but she still did it.

I wrapped my arms around her for a hug as she returned it back to me while my thoughts started to wander off again.

I don't want to lose this relaxing moments with my only friend.

That night, I started to spend my time on the roof of the mansion as I cooled my head to think about it.

Shockingly, I never forget about her confession.

Even up till the times we hangout, her confession keeps repeating on my head over and over again.

"I love you" I mumbled on her shoulder as I hugged her from the back while we basked under the sun.

I felt her stiffen on my touch before she relaxed herself again that made me close my eyes.

I don't want to lose her.

She made me realize my worth even at such a young age.

"Chiro, you're deserving of love too" she exclaimed in her loving tone as she caress my cheeks and I can't help but lean more on her.

Men or women, girls or boys, she saw them the same way. She was the definition of justice itself.

"Health is a strength too. Take care of it, hone it until you break its limit"

Learning from the Hashira that took her in, there was no doubt she would mimic their mannerism too.

I love those kinds of women.

Someone who doesn't tolerate my cruel treatment to others.

"Chiro, you shouldn't talk to them that way"

She keeps correcting my wrongdoings. She was literally my guardian angel.

The only woman I remember.

The only woman I put all my attention to. Dedicated every victory just to come back to her alive.

Until one night when she went on a mission.

There were supposed to be only normal demons in the mission she headed to, but she met one of the upper moon demon itself.

We were too late when we arrived. She was already in the arms of Doma, the upper rank two who are known to eat women.

I felt how my pupil shook that time as I saw her body covered in her own blood. She laid there lifeless before he took her with him.

Even Obanai who was with me didn't able to catch up to him.

I felt my world spin that time before I lose my consciousness for the first time.

The last thing I saw was the Serpent Hashira running back to catch my body.

And the moment I woke up, it was already reality. She was not here with me.

I didn't arrive home with her. She was taken away without me knowing if she was still alive or dead.

There's a part of me is hoping that the demon give her mercy and at least let her live.

I felt Obanai-san approach me before lending me her Haori. And I took it without second thought.

The only reminder of her...

I don't know what took over me but I found myself begging everyday to the Master to save her. I keep begging until I can't physically do it anymore.

We can't stand a chance on retrieving her back, not even her body.

"Master..."

"We are doing our best, Muichiro. But for now, take care of yourself" he stated as the older Hashiras held me to prevent myself on begging again.

"But Y/n..." My voice broke as tears never stop falling from my eyes. "We need to save her now, Master. I can't lose her too"

I cried out as the two Hashira just drag me out of the Master's quarters.

"Bring her back to me!" I screamed in anger as I snatched myself away from their grips and let my body fell to the ground.

"I can't lose her" I sobbed out as they let me cry my heart out on the path of stones.

My world turn cold, I lost the right direction. No one was holding my harsh personality back anymore.

No one was comforting me anymore.

I lost my backbone, I lost my lover.

In exchange, I stop caring for others.

I was blinded by anger that I didn't know I was slowly forgetting about her.

Mizuki Y/n

The second person that I didn't manage to save from the demons that ruined my entire life.

"Y/n..." I called her name as I started to recall everything.

How can I forget? The woman I was willing to bend the rules for. Even turn my back against the world.

The woman I would lay my life for...

Turn into the being that I despise the most.

My lover...

I didn't have time to choose my next move when I heard a familiar scream.

"I will slice you to shreds, you damn demon!"

I felt my heart drop as I saw the boar man already behind her. She is not focused.

The only thing she cares about right now... Is to see if I still remember her.

But who cares if she was turned into a demon? Does that make her less loveable?

Muichiro, get your grip together.

She is a demon, who knows what happened to those six years when both of you were apart.

But...

Seeing how she quickly recognizes me, she hasn't completely lost touch with her humanity.

Of her old self...

Without thinking, I ran to her who had her arms open for me for an embrace.

I took a hold of her hands before spinning her around to avoid Inosuke's attack.

And I felt the sharp pain on my back before both of us collapsed on the ground. I heard her gasp below me as she put her hands on my chest.

"I'm sorry Chiro" she apologizes with her glossy eyes but I just shook my head with a small smile on my lips.

"i just want to go back home" she sobbed out as I felt tears formed in my eyes.

"Demon or not, you are still my lover that I would save from the world." I told her as I heard Giyu prevent Inosuke on attacking again as I nuzzle my head on her shoulder.

She was still the same person no matter what.

"Don't worry Y/n. You have me... I'll bring you back home"

~°•°~

"What's with all of you breaking the rules" Tengen-san decided to visit after hearing the news while I decided to stay quiet as I kneel in front of the porch while waiting to meet Kiriya, the new master.

I never bother to care about the other Hashiras around me, because I only need the Master's opinion on my crazy idea about letting Y/n keep living.

Yes, who would agree when the cure is impossible to obtain now that Muzan and the twelve Kizuki's are gone.

It was utterly impossible to cure her now. She would always be a demon, she can't become a human anymore.

"The Master has arrived"

We all bowed in respect to the Master younger than me.

"It's nice to see all of you gather for this" he started as I raised my head from my bow that was lower than usual.

"I've heard your plea, Muichiro. But this request needs more time" he started as I kept my mouth shut.

"Y/n was a former tsuguko of Giyu. She was taken away out of her will during her mission. In this trial, we, the senior Hashiras, hope that you would at least consider that before any grave punishment bestowed to her case" I heard Obanai's words that made my heart warmed at least before I bowed at the young man in front of me.

"I have no complaints while the trial is ongoing. But may I at least request one thing?"

I ask the leader who gave me a nod that made me continue.

"Please let me stay with her throughout the whole trial"

The garden went silent as Mitsuri let out a small huh before Obanai covered her mouth.

"If that's what you want. I'll grant you that"

And I did stay with her the whole time.

I always gazed at her sleeping figure outside her cell.

If she would suffer, I would accompany her on that. I don't want to leave her again.

I love her, its my duty to become her ally, her support on her darkest time, and her lover to make her feel she is still loved and accepted by us.

I would never make her feel abandoned again...

[unholywriter]

Stars | Jaime Reyes x Fem!Reader

Warning: Fluff.

Paring: Magic Reader x Symbiotic alien infused bug boy.

a/n: I know it’s definitely not the time of year for Christmas but enjoy. 💙🪲

It was later, and your shift was ending. Working at a bar downtown in Palmera City, you never knew what kind of rambunctious shenanigans would unfold. But, for Christmas Eve, it was quiet. It was a godly slow day, not many stopped by aside the few occasional regulars wishing good holidays. Thankfully, it was coming to an end. Setting up the bar stools on the table, and making sure all was clean, capped and put away. You slid out the door, locking it behind you. Palmera was nippy, but it doesn’t get too terribly cold around this time of year.

Pulling up your scarf you walked looking at the text message from Jaime, your lover. A smile blanketed your face.

Jaime: Close went good?

You: Yes. Just stepping out now.

Jaime: Need a pick up? I’m near by.

You: What, a roof top a block over?

Jaime: Hey, rooftops are peaceful. 🥺

You: So is being wrapped up in my bfs arms but, sadly you like rooftops more. 😈

Jaime: You’re not going to let me live that down huh? Also, lamp post. 😂😭

As you read the last part you halted immediately. You were a few inches from running into it. You took a breath in and smiled looking up to the sky to see a silhouette of a particular blue looking suited boyfriend of yours. But you knew he was grinning ear to ear underneath that mask.

“tfihs em oot sih edis.” You whispered. Now it was your turn to grin ear to ear as you materialize right beside him. You swore a squeak left his mouth.

“Dios mío mi amor!” He hitched his breath, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “You know you could have just let me come down and meet you right?”

“Maybe I like the rooftops too.” You smile, and move in closer to embrace him. He embraced you back, and just like he read your thoughts, and well. Khaji reading his; the suit’s mask dematerialized revealing his gorgeous face underneath. And damn those beautiful brown doe eyes of his.

“You were just teasing me about it.” He rolled his eyes, his grip gently squeezing you.

“I know.” You placed your lips against his tenderly, running your fingers though his hair as he kissed you back just as sweetly. “I’ve missed you JaiJai.”

“Sorry for being gone a week, I thought we caught wind on a lead for Ted.” He said grimly. His mood changing only made you soften your expression with more concern.

“How’s Jenny?” You pulled away slowly. You still didn’t leave his touch though. But you knew making sure he was okay and being his emotional support is more important than craving deep intimacy at the moment from him.

“She’s doing well for someone who found out her father is alive. Just not knowing where he is, you know. She’s worried.” He began to explain, his tone and pace nerve racked. You could only assume because, Ted, being his predecessor. A man he’s never met before. Definitely an unregulated, stressful situation. Not only that, Jenny and Jaime had some moments together. But, she stepped away knowing you two were more or so in love with each other without each other knowing. She was the one, (and Milagro) who gave you both a push ironically. Now it’s been a few months after Jaime had Khaji Da infused within him, Victoria Kord, and Jaime’s father almost dying. It’s been rough, but you’ve been there. As a best friend and his lover. He is thankful, and you know it. Just as much as you’ve been thankful for him all these years.

“I’m glad, but we’re here for her. She has you. And Milagro always makes it her business to make sure she and all of us are okay. So honestly, Jenny will be alright.” You smile, entangling your fingers within his. “You will be alright too, got that mi querido?”

“Loud and clear.” He smiled brightly, fighting back his tears. You reached up, rubbing your finger against his cheek.

“So, do you still want to visit the tree in town square?” You ask, making sure he’s up for it. Yes distractions are nice too get away from everything but you can’t always run away.

“Of course. But I actually had a better idea.” His grin pulled further, a bit of mischief being one of your favorite signature looks that spread across his face.

“What do you have in mind?” You grinned back, curious to what your boyfriend had in store.

“Just trust me?” He grabbed both your hands gently and started to walk backwards, leading you too the edge.

“Always.” You tittered softly, turning back into a soft smile. He then lifted you into his arms. His wings materialized and off you two went. The view was beautiful, of course you’re used to flying via magic yourself but being in his arms with the breeze hitting you even if it was chilly was very peaceful. Soon you could see Palmera City Square, the large Christmas tree erect in all its multicolored glory for season cheer.

“So pretty.” You spoke softly. “What now?”

You both now hovered a far distance from and over the tree. The crowd gathered below enjoying the festivity. “I thought we could have a once in a life time experience not many normal people can experience.”

“Oh?” You tucked some of his curled hair behind his ear still nice and snug in his arms. “So we’re not normal?”

Your tease made him laugh. “I have an alien symbiotic peice of technology infused into my back and connected to every cell in my human body and you? Well, you’ve never been normal mi tesoro.”

The tease back earned him a gentle smack to his shoulder. “Wow, if this is your way too whoo me tonight I might just have to up my game.”

“Hey! I meant you not being normal in the best way possible!” He cheesed. And you gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I know my love. So what now?” You beamed happily. Patiently waiting for his goofy, lovable plan of his. Because well, both of you were sixty or so feet in the air and you were beginning to wonder if people looked up wondering what or who was hovering above them.

“Well.” He then begin to help you to where you were now dangling closely together. But your feet hung out, and gravity wasn’t to kind. “Uh.” He laughed nervously, his plan not working in his favor for the moment. “I was going to see if we could just, dance? But, I honestly didn’t think this part through.”

“It’s okay Jaime, that’s why having a girlfriend with magic comes in handy.” You giggled. Holding him close. Taking a breath in you closed your eyes and met his again. “Ekam eht ria a ecnad roolf, kaolc su nihtiw eht thgin.”

With ease your feet met an invisible flooring underneath the both of you. He looked down awe stuck with bewilderment but quickly smiled back. “What did…?”

“Now we can dance.” You took your arms wrapping them around his neck. He tenderly held you by your back. From below Christmas music rang, the smell of peppermint and pine filled both your senses. Laughter and happiness from people all over could be heard. It was truly magical.

“Okay, so bear with me mi amor. My two left feet might become a problem.” His cheeks turned a tint of pink, and soon an even more embarrassed expression crossed his face. “No Khaji!” He looked over his shoulder in a fit of sheepishness. Your smile pulled further.

“What did she say this time?”

“She said she could help me learn because she indulged herself to the internet the other night.” He rolled his eyes yet again.

“Oh no, that poor thing.” You gasped in actual horror. “I hope she didn’t delve too deep into the endless web of dark and treacherous Fortnite dances.”

“Do not give her any ideas.” He widened his eyes. You laughed again. Waiting patiently. “Besides, even if I trip over my feet as long as I’m dancing with you no matter how bad I am - that’s all that matters to me”.

You blushed softly. “Me too. Then lead the way Jai.”

Slowly, he began to lead. His steps a bashful disaster. But, he kept at it, soon both you moving in a circle of rhythm. “I think, I think we got!” He looked down and snapped back up with his playful, dramatic expression of giddiness. One of the many things that you fell in love with about him.

“We are!” You pressed your lips together tighter, and he then placed his forehead against yours.

“Feliz navidad mi estrella.” He said softly as the bells began to chime signifying midnight. “I love you so much y/n.”

“Feliz navidad Jaime. I love you so very much too amor de mi vida.” You softly spoke back. A gentle kiss was exchanged, and the both of you continued to dance above the city square. Locked deep in each other’s arms, but more importantly deep within each other’s hearts. And man, were the stars so pretty tonight as they watched the both of you fall in love deeply.