#that had his parents been alive he'd have loved them so much he'd have made it his whole personality

[franeridan]

doodling ace and suddenly having a lil mental breakdown over him, daily occurrences and all that

[latenightreadingpdf]

Summer Nights - James Potter

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Y/N and James Potter have been best friends since childhood. When Sirius and Remus decide to stay with him for the summer, James makes a pact to make it the most unforgettable one yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You and James had known each other since the very beginning. Growing up in the house next door, you were each other's first friend, practically inseparable from the start. Your parents were close friends, wizards who had known each other even before you were born, and they would often joke that the two of you had been “partners in crime” from the time you could crawl. There were countless photos scattered around your house: a tiny James, his glasses too big for his face, helping you attempt your first levitation spell, or the two of you on your broomsticks, flying low and wobbling slightly as you raced across the yard.

But when it came time for Hogwarts, your paths diverged. James got his letter, of course, but for reasons your parents never fully explained, they decided you wouldn't go. They reassured you that it wasn’t a reflection on you or your abilities, but rather a decision to keep you safe, especially with the state of the wizarding world. Instead, they’d teach you magic themselves while you went to a regular Muggle school.

James tried everything to convince them otherwise, insisting he’d look after you and make sure you were never in danger. He promised he wouldn’t let you out of his sight, that he'd stand by your side through every lesson and defend you from anything Hogwarts could throw your way. While your parents found his offer adorable, they held firm. So, when September came, you stayed behind, and James went off to Hogwarts. Since then, the school year had always meant time apart, and you’d count down the days until the holidays and summers, waiting for him to come home.

But you never let the distance stop you from being close. You and James had an unbreakable bond, kept alive through a flurry of letters every term.

During the school year, those letters became everything. James would write about all the things he was sure you’d love: his new friends, his latest Quidditch achievements, the clever pranks he pulled off with Sirius, and the way Remus could calm down even the rowdiest moments. He sent stories of sneaking around the castle at midnight, stumbling upon Peeves the Poltergeist, and even daring detours to the Forbidden Forest. Every letter was filled with a whirlwind of adventures, and he’d end each one by telling you how much better it would all be if you were there to experience it with him.

You wrote back just as often, sharing every small detail of your life that he was missing. The mundane lessons, the Muggle friends who couldn’t know anything about magic, and the spells your parents taught you at home—magic that felt incomplete without being able to share it with him. You’d complain about how ordinary your school was in comparison, with no magic staircases or enchanted ceilings. In each letter, you’d tell him how much you longed to be there, side by side, where you belonged.

James would read your letters with a broad grin, practically glowing as he opened each one. He didn’t care how confused it made his friends when they caught him smiling like a maniac at breakfast, owl perched on his shoulder. He'd be quick to tell them, “Oh, it's just Y/N,” and go on about you until Sirius and Remus couldn’t help but be curious about this friend he adored so much but whom they’d never met.

As the end of the school year approached, his excitement reached new heights, because this time, he wasn’t just coming home to you; he was bringing his friends with him. He wrote letters counting down the days, telling you everything about how thrilled he was to finally introduce you to Sirius and Remus, and how he was sure you’d love them. The train ride back was filled with his chatter about you, barely giving his friends a chance to ask questions before he’d start rambling about how you were practically family to him.

And then, after what felt like forever, the last day of term finally arrived.

James could hardly keep himself in check. The moment he got home, he was already dashing down the lane toward your house, his friends scrambling to keep up. By the time he reached your door, his heart was racing, his hands fidgeting with anticipation as he knocked, practically bouncing on his feet. He could hear footsteps approaching, and he barely managed to hold still as the door opened.

The second he saw you, there was no holding back. You both leapt forward, and suddenly, you were in his arms, squeezing each other in a hug that held all the months and miles you’d spent apart. After a moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him, grinning as you took in his taller frame, the confidence in his smile. You raised an eyebrow and gave his arm an appraising squeeze.

“Quidditch really suits you, Potter,” you teased, laughing as he flexed under your hands.

“Glad you noticed,” he replied, playfully striking a pose as if to impress you. He was clearly showing off, but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the easy familiarity slip right back into place.

Your gaze shifted, catching sight of the two boys standing behind him, watching you with curiosity. Your face lit up as you looked at them. “Oh, you must be Sirius and Remus! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

You didn’t hesitate, stepping forward and pulling each of them into a quick hug. Sirius was momentarily stunned, his cheeks tinged with surprise, and Remus’s reserved smile softened at the warm gesture. “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N,” they both murmured in turn, caught a little off guard by your immediate warmth.

James beamed, practically radiating joy as he looked between you all. “So, want to come over and hang out?” he asked, as though he hadn’t already decided you would.

“Sure,” you replied with a grin, and soon you were all walking together back to the Potters’ house, James at your side, talking your ear off about everything and nothing at all.

When you arrived, he showed Sirius and Remus to their rooms, practically ushering them inside before taking your hand and pulling you up to his own room. Once inside, he flopped down on his bed, stretching out his arms toward you. “I’ve missed you too much,” he said, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I need you right here. Come on!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as you climbed onto the bed, settling down with your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around you, familiar and comforting. For a moment, there was only a peaceful silence as you lay together, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath you.

Then, in a quiet voice, James whispered, “I wish you could go to Hogwarts with me. Every day. I just… I want to do this every night.”

You felt your heart sink a little as you looked up at him, seeing the longing in his eyes. You reached up and brushed a hand through his hair, giving him a soft smile. “I know, James,” you murmured, your voice gentle. “But it’s summer now. So, we’ll make every minute together count.”

His arms tightened around you, and in that moment, you knew he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight for even a second this summer. And somehow, that made all the distance during the school year melt away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

After settling into the house, James, Sirius, Remus, and you all gathered in the Potters' cozy living room, a comforting mix of excitement and ease settling over the group. Remus, carrying a well-loved book in his hands, took a seat on the couch beside you. His attention drifted to the cover as he cracked it open, and your eyes lit up when you noticed the title.

“Oh! I love that book, what chapter are you on?” you said, unable to hide your enthusiasm.

Remus’s face brightened, a genuine look of surprise and excitement sparking in his eyes. “Oh I’ve already finished it once, it was just so good I had to read it again,” he admitted, blushing a bit out of embarrassment.

“It’s honestly brilliant,” you replied. “Every time I read it, I find something new. I swear, it just gets better each time.”

“I feel the same way,” Remus said, smiling warmly as the two of you sat on the couch and dove into a deep discussion about characters, themes, and every twist that left an impression on you both. He seemed thrilled to find someone who understood the magic of getting lost in a book.

While you and Remus talked, Sirius claimed an armchair nearby, sprawled across it with the casual elegance only Sirius Black could pull off. James, of course, settled down directly in front of you on the floor, his back leaning against your legs. Without a second thought, your fingers found their way to his hair, gently playing with his messy curls. James hummed in contentment, tilting his head slightly to let you reach even more of his hair, his voice relaxed as he launched into a conversation with Sirius about Quidditch plays and Gryffindor’s prospects for the House Cup.

The topics bounced between everyone, shifting every few minutes—James told stories of his latest Quidditch victories, Sirius cracked jokes that had everyone laughing, and Remus shared bits of wizarding lore you hadn’t yet learned, each of you listening with fascination.

Hours slipped away, and before you knew it, exhaustion set in. The cozy warmth of the room and the quiet companionship felt like a dream as one by one, you all began to drift off. James fell asleep first, his head resting comfortably on your lap, breathing slow and steady as your hand gently rested in his hair. Sirius had curled up in the armchair, his long legs dangling off one side, his face relaxed and peaceful. You leaned into Remus, both of you resting against each other, his head lightly tilted onto yours, his book still clutched in his hand.

As you closed your eyes, a contented feeling settled over you. This was only the beginning of the summer, and you had a feeling it was going to be one you’d never forget.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[gallusrostromegalus]

ok I need elaboration on pretty much all of those bankais that you haven't already talked about but for now i'm probably most curious about ichigo and hanataro? please, a measly few crumbs of context

The short version of Ichigo's sword situation is that he is D'artanigan to Zangetsu's Three displaced-during-the-fuckery-surrounding-his-parent's-meet-cute-slash-manslaughter-thing Musketeers. We got his dad's half-starved family Zanpakuto, The Family Ghost from his Mom's side, and a guy made in an evil instapot that wandered in here on accident and precipitated the whole enfuckening. They are untied in their goal of "Keep Ichigo Alive" but unfortunately they also have a collective IQ of Negative Four.

Reader: Gee Ichigo, why does the author let you have THREE Zanpakuto spirits?

Ichigo: That's nothing! Orihime has SIX!

Ichigo and Orihime's nonsense is connected to how The Almighty operates:)

Meanwhile, short summaries of Unohana and Byakuya's Bankai under the cut:

Unohana:

Minazuki is a sword primarily about the manipulation of flesh- healing injury, making better fighters by pushing the flesh to it's limits- This is a spirit that is distinctly VISCERAL in nature. It has mass. It has a very distinct body.

So it follows that, in order to supply injured patients with blood and drugs and new flesh and everything else, Minazuki is giving up some of her Mass. Consequently, the Stingray form of Minazuki is the SECOND one- she cannot create her elixirs and make new flesh from nothing. First she must FEED.

Which is why Minazuki's liquid format is acidic blood that devours anything organic. It's why Kenpachi!Unohana's bloodthirst was so bloodthirsty: she was literally starving for biomass to complete her sword's two forms and finally put her Soul in Balance.

In the fic, Ukitake is one of a handful of people old enough to remember "Yachiru" Unohana, and until Zaraki's arrival, probably the closest to understanding her. That Unohana and Retsu both understand the horrors of the flesh he lives with every day more intimately than anyone else in his life, and it's the basis of an almost sacred friendship between them. He knows perfectly well where the emergency transfusions and drugs she creates come from, and they have a standing agreement that if he predeceases her, she is to feed his body to Minazuki so he can pay forward at least some of the debt given to him.

He will not be the first of Unohana's friends that have been willingly devoured by her sword.

Byakuya:

Senbonzakura has been with the Kuchiki family for generations, passed from one head of the clan to the next in a sacred ritual that allows the Zanpakuto to bond to its new weilders and grant them the power accumulated with generations.

But for course, everything has it's cost.

Byakuya was not the head of the Kuchiki clan when his father Sojun died prematurely and make Byakuya the orphan heir apparent as an adolescent. He was not the head when he met Hisana in a grove of cherry trees in the middle of harvest, and fell in love with her He was not the head when he had a terrible row with his grandfather Ginrei and the rest of the clan elders about his elopement. He was not the head five years later, when on a cold spring morning before the plum trees had blossomed, Hisana died of a miscarriage.

One week later, when the plum trees bloomed and the cherry trees had budded, Byakuya came to his grandfather, head bowed and heart broken, and agreed to take up the mantle of Clan Head. His soul had already been torn in half, what was another half?

Everything has it's cost, and the price of Senbonzakura's power is the sacrifice of the weilder's own original Zanpakuto spirit, and by transference, the imminent death of the previous head.

He had known this day was coming, ever since his own native Zanpakuto spirit failed to awaken at the academy. At the time, he'd thought it a mercy that the poor thing wouldn't awaken and be aware of being devoured. But now, as he held the tiny, warm body of the spirit out to Senbonzakura, he could only think of the child he never got to hold.

...with Senbonzakura, at least, she'd be at rest with something beautiful that loved her.

Because Senbonzakura loves it's family, and in particular it adores Byakuya. It has, ever since Byakuya fearlessly climbed it's branches as a small boy, since he partook of the sword's fruits as a young man, and now, when Byakuya offered the most precious parts of himself to the sword with a sense of peace and profound trust. And Senbonzakura repays that trust in kind.

The sword's shikai release is the same, or at least similar for all it's wielders, but long-term friends of the family note that that is a LOT MORE blades than the sword ever summoned for Ginrei or any other head.

The Bankai is different every time. Senbonzakura is ready to give Byakuya whatever Bankai he wants immediately, but it's not until after he adopts Rukia and sees her fooling around in the family orchards when she thinks he isn't watching that he realizes the shape it should be.

It's name is "Senbonzakura: Sakura no Kaju-en" and it is beautiful and terrible.

Sakura no Kaju-en requires only that Byakuya pierce the flesh of his enemy or the terrain around him with one or more of his petal-blades. Once in the ground or embedded in flesh, the blade is transformed into a seed and an entire magical cherry tree grows from it, converting the Reishi and spiritual energy around it into its own mass. Since Byakuya is effectively wielding somewhere around 10,000 petal blades in his shikai alone, he can summon up to 10,000 devouring cherry trees, which will radically alter the landscape of battle and blossom into millions and millions of new petal-blades.

That is, unless his foe is unfortunate enough to have the blades penetrate their flesh. Then the trees will devour them as they grow. Even a truly massive opponent like Yammy can be mulched in minutes.

The trees initially blossom almost white, but as his enemies are felled and Senbonzakura drinks, the blooms grow pinker and then redder until they transform into deep crimson fruits.

It's a brutal Bankai, but a beautiful one. When Byakuya looks out upon the blooming landscape and tastes the sweet fruits of his efforts, it brings him peace to know the small, sleeping spirit he had to sacrifice is playing somewhere within, they way he saw Rukia playing in the family orchards that day.

[kolyasangel]

different kind of love

synopsis: you and nikolai are new parents, and things have been a lot different with a baby in the house, but you wouldn't have it any other way...

content: fem!reader, dad!nikolai, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff

Nikolai was sitting criss-crossed on the floor in his daughter's nursery room, surrounded by walls painted in a light powdery pink color, providing a gentle atmosphere. He was supposed to be getting her ready for a bath, but that was clearly not what was happening when you heard the adorable laughter of your four-month-old daughter. That's when you decided to abandon the dishes you were washing in the sink to check out what was going on instead.

"Nikolai?"

The door was wide open, so you walked closer and witnessed Nikolai lying on the floor, blowing raspberries on your daughter's tummy, making her laugh and flail her little arms and legs around. You leaned your head on the doorframe as you watched them bond, Nikolai not noticing your presence at all just yet as he was too distracted, but you didn't mind. This scene was too cute to be interrupted, so you were content watching from a distance. Nikolai's adoration for his daughter was palpable as he showered her with affection, absorbed in the moment as he squeezed her chubby thighs and kissed her tiny feet, making her laugh more.

Nikolai remembered the day you were discharged from the hospital with your newborn baby like it was yesterday. He was completely overwhelmed with happiness when he first held his baby girl in his arms. Her sweet little eyes opening and looking up at him made him tear up, happy to be alive to experience this with the love of his life, you. Whenever the baby would cry at night, he would not let you have to get up by yourself. He was always there to help as much as he could, not wanting you to do this alone, no matter how often you told him he could return to bed. He always knew when and where he was needed, picking up the responsibilities without a peep. You felt utterly grateful to have such an amazing man like him.

It seemed like resistance wasn't an option anymore because you couldn't help it and approached Nikolai, sitting beside him and touching his shoulder.

"Kolya-"

"Wait wait, not now, we were having so much fun! Isn't that right, sweetheart?" he asked his daughter, tickling her tummy and smiling at her laughter.

"You can play with her later, it's her bath time," you say.

"I know dear, but her big eyes were just begging me to play with her! Besides, she told me she doesn't wanna take a bath." Nikolai replied, picking his baby up and sitting her on his lap.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was obviously playing around because she couldn't even speak yet, let alone make her own decisions.

"Righhttt, and she told me that she likes mama more than papa!" you protested jokingly.

Nikolai gasped and looked at his clueless daughter with fake hurt on his face. "You did?! How could you, my precious darling? I feel so hurt right now!~" he playfully jested, only to be met with his baby looking up at him innocently, making Nikolai coo and hold her closer in his arms.

"You're too cute to be mad at." he pats her head before handing her over to you.

"Come to mama.." you smiled and happily took your daughter in your arms, exchanging a smile with Nikolai before exiting the room shortly after.

Nikolai's smile widened as he headed to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for his little one for after her bath. He'd gotten quite good at this now— a stark contrast from how he used to struggle and couldn't even make a bottle without your help, which was funny to look back on. He hummed to himself as he did the task with ease.

After about twenty minutes, you return from the bathroom with your daughter in your arms. Returning to her room, you dressed her up in a new ruffly onesie, one that Nikolai had picked out from his last shopping trip. "Isn't it so cute? My little princess will look so pretty in this!" You recalled him saying when he showed you the outfit for the first time.

You browsed the small bookshelf in the room, full of children's books, including some Ukrainian ones, courtesy of Nikolai. He loved reading to his daughter even if she couldn't understand or speak a word yet, hoping she would pick up some of his native language when she was a tad bit older.

Nikolai came back into the room shortly with a milk bottle, placing it on a nearby table before coming towards you. Resting his arms on the arm of the rocking chair you were sitting in, he gazed at you dreamily, captivated by the soft glow of the lamp accentuating your features. He listened to you read, eagerly awaiting his turn to read to his daughter while admiring how beautiful you looked in this moment, wanting to soak in every detail, feeling as if he could never get enough. Nikolai has always found you beyond beautiful— that he never failed to let you know, but something about your motherly nature made you even more attractive to him. Even when you're visibly tired, your bright eyes and lovely smile still shine through, making his heart ache with so much love.

"Dove."

You paused and glanced at him when you felt a tap on your hand.

"Want to read now?" you ask Nikolai.

He nodded excitedly and switched places with you, settling into the chair and placing his daughter on his lap. You moved behind him and messed with his hair, earning a hum of approval from him. He opened the book to where you left off and began to read, his voice soothing and calm. Despite the baby reaching out and attempting to grab the pages, Nikolai held her little hands in his and continued reading to her, resting his cheek gently on her head.

"What sound does a duck make?" he asked, looking at his daughter, waiting for a response while you laughed at his question, finding how he expected something from her amusing.

She made babbling noises as Nikolai read, and he nodded at her gibberish, pretending he understood her.

"Good job!" he praised, squeezing her cheeks.

He continued reading, though he could tell she was getting fussy from tiredness as she started yawning and rubbing her face, her sleepy signs being too recognizable.

"I think it's almost her bedtime." You say, moving to face them both.

"Are you sleepy, baby dove?" he cooed as he smoothed her hair before reaching for a pacifier and giving it to her, only for her to spit it out and let it fall on the ground before starting to whine.

"Shh, it's okay darling." he cradled her, patting her back gently.

Realizing she could cry any second now, Nikolai loosened the tie that held his long hair in place. His little girl often used her small hands to tug and try to eat his hair whenever he kept it down, so it became a habit to tie it up whenever he held her. But if she was crying, he always let his hair down and allowed her to play with it because it calmed her down more than anything, even if it meant him getting drooled on sometimes.

"You and mommy both adore my hair, don't you?" he muttered, making you giggle.

"Kolya, I need to finish some chores from earlier. I'll be right back okay?" you told him and gave him a look, making sure he didn't need your help before leaving.

"I'll take care of her, don't worry." He smiled at you before grabbing the bottle of milk.

And with that, you returned to the kitchen to wash the remaining dishes. You heard crying from the room as you were drying the dishes and putting them away. However, you assured yourself that Nikolai had everything under control, and you proved to be correct as the cries faded into soft, soothing whispers and shushes from Nikolai.

Making your way to the dryer to gather fresh laundry from today, you walked past your daughter's room once more and paused for a moment to steal a glance at Nikolai. You could see him feeding your child and how she was comfortably nestled into the protective warmth of his arms, one of her tiny hands entwined in strands of Nikolai's hair, and her other little fingers clasped around his while she drank her milk. You took note of her droopy eyes, a sign she would be dozing off soon. These cute moments used to be mere daydreams, but now that they were a reality, you felt you could never get used to the indescribable giddiness they always filled you with. You smiled to yourself and scampered off to set the laundry basket next to the dryer, wanting to finish up the task quickly.

Reentering the room a few minutes later, you were met with the most heart-melting sight— Nikolai peacefully sleeping next to his daughter, who was resting on a small flower-shaped pillow. She must've fallen asleep after drinking her milk, and he decided to join her for a nap. You knelt on the floor and kissed your daughter's forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my baby," you cooed quietly, caressing the delicate skin of her cheek.

You then kissed Nikolai's forehead before cuddling up next to him, relaxing your head on his chest. "And my other baby."

You smiled contently as you closed your eyes and felt Nikolai hug you, happy with this adorable family you've created together.

[esoteric-oracle]

//long rambles ahead!

I think what really lingers with me about MDZS is that it's not a novel with a cathartic ending at all. It's a bittersweet story that leaves you slightly hollow. Yes, it's a beautiful and epic romance. It's a piece of social commentary interwoven with a love story and murder mystery. It's a cautionary tale. But it is also very much a tragedy. It's a story about being too late, second chances, and moving on.

By the time the truth of everything JGY and JGS did comes to light, it's 13 years too late. Everything that mattered has already happened. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are long dead. Jin Ling is still an orphan. Wen Ning is dead, and sometime in the future, his death will be permanent. Wen Qing was burned to death at the stake for no fault of her own. Nie Mingjue has already spent ten years in a no-doubt agonizing state of un-death, and Lan Xichen will have to bear the guilt of loving both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and by doing so, forsaking them both. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's once-close bond is irrevocably broken, and the woman who sowed the seeds of resentment when they were still children will never face the consequences of her vitriol.

People sometimes say MXTX was too hard on the side characters, and only gave the Wangxian a happy ending, but what stuck with me after finishing the story is how… sad things are. Yes, Wangxian finally get the happy ending they've deserved for nearly 20 years - but at the same time, it's not a happy ending where the people who've wronged them get the consequences they deserve.

Wei Wuxian will spend the rest of his life haunted by guilt and loss, over what happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, over the loss of the Wen remnants. The rest of his years won't even be lived in the body his parents gave him.

Lan Wangji will spend the rest of his years wondering if he'd chosen to stand with Wei Wuxian when it mattered - would his son have had to grow up without his birth family?

Nie Huaisang is left wondering if his brother had been a little less trusting and had never taken Meng Yao in as a Nie deputy, would his brother have died a less wretched death? Would he have been forced to stoop to ruthless machinations and manipulations to seek some semblance of justice?

Wen Ning will have to live with the knowledge that if he'd been a little less kind, if he'd let Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng die that fateful day - his family would still be alive. The Wens would've won the war; Wen Qing might've even succeeded Wen Ruohan.

No one really gets the ending they deserve. MDZS isn't a story where good people get happy endings, and bad people get their dues. Sure, Jin Guangyao's crimes are revealed and he faces the consequences of his actions. But what about the people who stood by and made him into a monster? If anything, the side characters and antagonists who survive get better than they deserve. The real villain of MDZS - society - will never face retribution. Those cultivators who always believed in their own bigotry and righteousness over and over again, will never face justice.

Do you think those cultivators and the public will ever feel any regret for the innocent people they condemned to death in their own prejudice and blind self-righteousness? Do you think the people who gathered at Nightless City to call for Wei Wuxian's death considered for one second that he was the biggest reason they won the war? When the cultivators who sacked the Wen settlement at the Burial Mounds threw the bodies of the Wens into the blood pool, do you think that was a sign of shame?

Do you think Jiang Cheng will ever regret leading a siege on a small settlement of innocent farmers? Do you think he's haunted by condemning to death the same people whom he owes his life to?

Do you think those people like Yao-zongzhu will ever feel an ounce of remorse for so easily believing rumours and hearsay, and spreading speculation and vitriol about innocent people?

Do you think that unnamed cultivator out there will ever lose a single minute of sleep over smashing in Wen Popo's head?

In the years that follow, Wen Ning will have apologized a hundred times for lives he did not take, crimes he did not commit, because of the name he bears. People, both in-universe, and even readers, will condemn him for actions he could not help, for doing the right thing. But did Jiang Cheng ever apologize for killing his family? Did the Jins ever apologize for their horrific treatment of people in the labour camps?

People will continue to demand that Wei Wuxian apologize for causing the deaths of their friends and family. But how is Wei Wuxian meant to do that? No one ever apologized to him for taking his family away. No one ever apologized for condemning the Wen Remnants to death for crimes they took no part in. The Wens were his family too.

There's so much potential for bitterness and corruption in MDZS. Instead of saving everyone, Wei Wuxian could've stood aside and let the people who tried to kill him die. MDZS could've been a story of succumbing to hatred and grief, but it wasn't. MXTX could've gone on and on about how society wronged the protagonist, but she didn't. The narrative is one of forgiveness and moving beyond past grievances. The story chose to close the story on a positive note. I truly love that aspect of MDZS, where MXTX leaves just enough room for hope and love at the end.

A-Yuan will finally get his closure about the family he lost as a toddler. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get their happy ending together after being separated by nearly two decades by war, miscommunication, cruelty, and death.

Wei Wuxian will never regret protecting survivors of an attempted genocide, because it was the right thing to do.

And Wen Ning will still stand in the way and take a fatal blow meant for Jin Ling, despite everything the Jins and Jiang Cheng did to the people he loved.

Because they chose love. Characters like Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning and Lan Wangji have the chance to move on and live a happier life because when they could've succumbed to hurt and fury and resentment, they chose to be kind and do the right thing. Wangxian get their happy ending because they learn to recognize the toxicity of the cultivation society's self-cannibalizing prejudice, and chose to pursue righteousness above personal benefit.

MDZS isn't a story about good people getting good things. Just look at what happened to Xiao Xingchen. There's really nothing satisfying or cathartic about everyone's fates at all. There's no promise about society facing the consequences of their mob mentality or Wangxian actually changing the world together. Even in TGCF, for all its makings of a love story, we get the promise of societal change once Jun Wu is deposed.

It has all the makings to be a tragedy or tale of vengeance of epic proportions - but instead, it's a love story. It's a story about making the best of what you've got, and staying true to yourself and your morals, even if that's sometimes a bitter pill to swallow. It's a story where everything that could go wrong went wrong, but the characters still managed to fight their way to a better ending by choosing kindness. At its core, MDZS is a testament to choosing compassion over cruelty no matter how tragic and hopeless life gets, no matter how long the journey gets. Even though the happy ending is more personal and only applies to the specific characters, even though we don't actually get the promise of their society becoming a better place - we still have the hope that Wei Wuxian's second chance brings. The hope that sometimes, no matter how cruel the world is, some people who deserve it still get their happy endings. That's what makes MDZS such a memorable work of art. That's why it stays with you.

[onestepbackwards]

Hello Soulmate

🔸Zhongli x Reader Drabble🔸

Summary: You've had a weird soulmark on your wrist since you were young. Who knew it was the soulmark of a god who has waited for you for almost 6000 years?

CW: Fluff, soulmate au

Word Count: 1428 words!

--❤❤❤--

Imagine Zhongli, in all his years alive, has never found his soulmate.

On his chest above his heart, a small bird symbol lays dormant. If it wasn't for the very obvious mark, he'd believe he never had a soul mate to begin with.

But not once in his thousands of years on Teyvat, had it ever lit up, or burned, or glowed. Tell tale signs a soulmate is alive, and that you have met them, or that they were nearby.

His did none of those. It just sat innocently on his chest.

At least it wasn't ashen grey, showing his soulmate had passed.

He had long grown not to expect his soul mate to appear. Zhongli did have hope after becoming an Archon, hoping that would make finding you easier.

But you never once showed up.

Eventually time went on, and he no longer felt hope.

Well, that would be a lie.

He felt hope, but it had long since grown into a warm, smoldering coal, instead of the blazing fire it once was.

The dragon knew if he were to still meet you in this life, he would love and cherish you, excited beyond belief.

But that day had yet to come.

So with a heavy heart, he went through with the death of Rex Lapis.

It was one of the most difficult decisions he had ever made. But it had to be done, regardless if he truly wanted to step down or not.

Erosion would eventually come its way for him, much like it had done to Azhdaha. It was best to let his country grow on its own two legs, and be prepared for when that day came, whether it be in a hundred years, or a thousand.

A part of him worried you would come, only when he was beginning to wither.

Zhongli didn't want you to see him like that. You already missed him in his prime, but he had nightmares of meeting his soul mate when his mind started to erode.

But it had to be done.

He wasn't too surprised to see your mark on his human vessel, though he still felt so empty. Deep down, he yearned to hold his soulmate, even now.

So when he was sipping tea one day, taking his time for an order for Director Hu, he dropped his tea cup when he felt a burn on his chest, right above his vessels heart.

His eyes widen as he reaches up to touch the spot. For once, he curses himself for wearing so many clothes.

He's leaving the tea house he is in, uncaring if the mora he slammed down on the table was enough to cover his meal. Rushing to his small home he had bought years ago, Zhongli slams through the door, almost stumbling to his room.

Ripping off his clothes, he shakes as he sees it in the mirror.

Your soulmate mark, alive and glowing warmly on his chest.

He stares in wonder, fingers gently reaching up, touching the delicate looking mark with awe.

You were real. You were alive. You were close by.

Old instincts pushed at the boundaries in his mind, and he forced them back down.

Not now. You were alive. You were real. He had time.

Rex Lapis waited 6000 years for you. Zhongli could wait just a little longer.

Meanwhile, you had an odd soulmate mark, ever since it first materialized as a child.

It was the Geo symbol. Just that, the Geo symbol.

Your parents had been stumped since the mark showed itself, on the inside of your wrist clear as day.

It glowed a stunning amber, and was outlined in black. Whoever it was, was alive and well.

Most marks had very interesting meanings. But THE Geo symbol?

It had your parents scratching their heads.

Not once had anyone you met had any symbol similar. Never had anyone seen a mark of one of the elemental sigils.

As you got older, it only brought more questions than answers.

Though you remember talking about it with a friend in the bar in Mondstadt, when the bard there asked about it when he saw it on your wrist in passing.

"You know... It might be someone from Liyue that uses a Geo vision. Or maybe an adeptus that works with Rex Lapis? Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

The bard then laughed, and your face went red at the remark. You? Being able to claim a god as your soulmate? Please.

The head of the bar ended up dragging him away, though the mischievous, almost knowing look that bard sent you over his shoulder had you second guessing yourself.

His words kept whispering in your head. Maybe your soulmate was in Liyue? That was the nation's symbol after all. If anything, it would be a good place to start looking.

After all, you always felt sometimes you had to grab fate by the horns and take control of it yourself.

So when you packed a bag and headed out, your parents tearfully waving goodbye behind you, you didn't think much of it.

If you found them, then you did. If not, you could always go home.

Though you weren't expecting your mark to burn when you stopped to rest at a Statue of the Seven near the harbor. The late Rex Lapis' statue.

A part of your mind grew anxious at this news. Your mark glowing and burning like this.

"Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

The bard's words echoed almost tauntingly in your mind.

You tried not to sadly laugh as you felt the warmth flow through your body.

Of course, if it really was Rex Lapis, it would only be your luck it was a dead god you were tied to. If only you had been a year sooner...

But that didn't mean Rex Lapis' spirit was gone. You had read the papers, and Lady Ningguang had mentioned a dream where he told her about how he had perished.

Or something like that.

Perhaps that was what this was then? Since he was a god, that's why your mark wasn't ashen grey? His spirit was strong enough to live on?

How cruel. If that was what this was, your soulmate was taken from you far too-

"I found you."

You scream as you spin around, and a man with the most gorgeous amber eyes you have ever seen is standing behind you.

He looked a bit disheveled. His clothes almost haphazardly thrown on. You got the impression he normally didn't look like this.

The mark on your wrist pulsed, and your eyes widened.

"You..." You began, though you couldn't think of the words you wanted to say.

The man is quick to unbutton his shirt, and tug it to the side.

When you saw the glowing bird, pulsing on his chest above his heart, you knew.

That mark was yours.

Carefully, you lowered your wrist, and he oh so carefully reached out for it. His hands were so gentle as they took your own, as if you were made of glass.

The spark that followed as a thumb ran across the symbol, left you breathless.

"My symbol..." He murmured, in awe over the small mark.

But you could already tell there was weight behind those words.

His eyes snapped back to your own, and you saw it.

This man... he was older than he looked. Those eyes were the ones of an old soul.

You felt power radiating from him, and your mouth went dry.

"You aren't... human, are you?"

It wasn't so much a question, as it was a statement.

The man blinked, almost in surprise, before he began to laugh.

It was a gentle one, one that had your heart pounding in your chest.

He smiled at you, eyes glowing bright.

"I should have known my soulmate would be able to figure it out first thing."

"Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

Those word rang in your mind once more, and you found yourself speaking before you could think about what you were asking.

"...Rex... Lapis...?" You asked, almost unsure, though the thought somehow felt so right.

His eyes seemed to brighten, along with his smile.

He brought your hand up to his mouth, and kissed the Geo symbol on your wrist, sending shivers through out your body. He then nuzzled against your hand, eyes never leaving your own. The loving look he sent you left you almost breathless.

"Hello, my dear. It's nice to finally meet you."

[yanderes-galore]

Hi, could you please do a yandere platonic darth vader? Thank you!

I can try, sure! If something is OOC, I'm so sorry, I still struggle writing Vader.

Yandere! Platonic! Darth Vader Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Isolation, Brainwashing, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Murder, Forced companionship.

Vader, or even Anakin, would not be the best father.

If things didn't go wrong, he'd probably be loving to his kids.

Yet at the same time, he'd just make an action at some point to poison that bond.

Vader was under the impression his wife and child died.

Which made him who he is now.

In reality, he had three.

Luke, Leia, and you.

He never found out about any of you until much later.

I think it would be an interesting idea if you took a different path than Luke and Leia.

Like, maybe you went to help them during the Death Star and had no idea they were your siblings. (You could just have been raised beside Leia as a childhood friend or something or found them later)

Unfortunately, however, you end up being taken captive by Vader.

Which leads to Vader finding out you're his kid...

Which begins the obsession.

I'm assuming he knew you were his kid via looks and feeling drawn to you (The Force).

So, as OOC as this may be, imagine this...

Vader decides to keep you alive instead of executing you in order to "parent" you.

You hate him yet Vader feels you're a second chance.

This is before he even knew Luke was his kid.

I imagine it would be similar to when Vader said he could convert Luke to the Dark Side.

To protect your life, he'd tell Palpatine you could be useful in tracking Rebels.

Granted, you aren't going to like his plans...

But as a prisoner, your say doesn't matter much.

It would be even more interesting if you were capable of The Force, too.

Vader might've made you either an apprentice or had you help him in other ways if you were.

It's a hard pill to swallow when you learn the real reason Vader took you in.

He's your father.

Even then, you still struggle to play nice.

Knowing he's your father makes you feel sick.

He's never too affectionate, like he's unsure how to approach you.

Yet he teaches you and garners your obedience through manipulation and fear.

He's a quiet man, the only way you know of his presence is his breathing.

He doesn't expect you to like him, even after the truth.

He doesn't expect mutual love, either.

You make him conflicted... reminding him of his one true love.

Again, you may not care for him, but Vader shows he "cares".

He finds time to train you, he gives you Stormtroopers, he protects you.

He does strange little things that one could consider caring or attentive...

Yet you're so separated from one another that it doesn't mean anything to you.

Vader may view giving you guards as protecting you, but to you they're just wardens.

If Vader could ever will himself to say he loves you, it means nothing to you.

He's not a father to you.

Even if he tried he simply couldn't be.

Vader would end up brainwashing you as his captive.

He does everything he can to make you forget the Rebels.

He may not even tell you about your siblings, just to make it seem like he's your only familial connection.

Eventually you don't have to be kept as a prisoner.

He constantly gives you the option to be something more if you just listen.

He does his best to convince you he cares.

You're the closest thing he has to what could've been.

Luke and Leia want him dead.

Yet he's messed with you enough to confuse you.

Eventually, well, what other choice do you have besides joining him?

He's your father, he cares about you...

By now, he's all you have.

He'll train you to hunt Rebels, to be on his side.

He defends you from Palpatine, keeping you under his wing.

He's not afraid to kill, for both his cause and you.

If he killed in your name, he justifies it.

He tells you it had to happen.

You've seen him kill rebels, friends, those you considered family...

And he tells you it's necessary.

You aren't like them.

Rebels are not the good guys, you belong beside your father.

He'll ensure you know that.

He'll make sure you never stray from him.

That alone is another motivation for him to sear through the flesh of another Rebel with his saber, glancing back to make sure you watch.

You'll never leave his side.

Even if he has to lock you away, it's to ensure you stay with him.

So he never loses another one he loves.

Vader himself knows he's not a good man.

Let alone a good father.

Yet you both know he's your father...

There's no one else you can go to now that he has you.

[poppy-metal]

creep!au art is going crazy. he wants to know who you are sooooooooo badly. he’s been back and forth about guilt and about being disturbed (which if he’s honest ended a long time ago, ended as soon as he saw that sweet cunt) and about what kind of person you must be, what kind of person he must be to take advantage of your troubled mental state. because you really are troubled. it’s not just the act of leaving him these notes. it’s the notes. you say things that make his skin crawl and his cock throb, and he’s starting to not be able to tell the difference. even after you begin texting you still leave him notes. the notes become more graphic, as you’re more reserved over text.

you smell good today. sometimes i want to eat you because i think you’d taste like marshmallow. but that would be wrong.

you’re so strong. i love your arms. would you hit me if i asked you to? i probably deserve it a little for all i put you through. haha. just know you could hurt me forever and i’d still be yours

after all we’ve done together, i have to wonder if you’ve been with any other girls. i hate that. i would never tell you what to do, but it hurts my heart to think you could need anything but me. i would do anything for you. i’d light myself on fire if you asked me to. i would. no one can give you what i can. i can do anything another girl can do, and with me you’ll know it’s an act of worship. you’re no one else’s god, art. just mine.

you’re not okay. you are sick in the head. but. but you’re so sweet. and no one has ever loved him so much. no one ever would again. you were once in a life time. he lies to himself, tells himself that he wants to find you to get you help, that he would bring you to a psychiatrist and work through your issues together. but he won’t. he knows he won’t, distantly. because whatever is wrong with you to make you stalk someone is what makes you fully, totally and unnaturally his. so yes, he cares about you. yes, you make him harder that what he humanly thought is possible. yes, you scared him a little to start with. but you’re a kitten, clawless in his palms. he wants you to be happy. maybe he doesn’t need to make you better to make you happy. he just needs to accept you as his. if only he could track you down. force you to accept his love like you made him accept yours. because he had no choice, and now he wants choice. he wants you to feel him, in every way. but it’s not fair, because you can find him and he can’t find you. it drives him crazy. as crazy as you are.

no because the power dynamics really do shift.... he starts thinking about how if he really pushed you - threatened to stop talking to you, throw away your notes - you'd crack. but he's come to care about you and he can tell through texting you that you haven't had the best upbringing. you suffer from insecurity, even worse than he does, neglect from both parents - you essentially have no one - no friends, no family, all you have is art.

but presses in little ways, i want to touch you so bad. god, i want your pussy on my tongue. you want me so bad - i love that. you said your virginity is mine? that you're saving it for me? well, i want it. i want to feel you on my cock when i stretch you open for the first time. i wanna see your face when i give it to you.

and you're so needy for it. you never thought art would talk to you like this - there's honestly alot you didn't account for that you should have. you didn't account for how it would feel to be wanted by art. to be wanted at all. you didn't account for how it'd feel to read his messages and feel your self control get thinner and thinner - your fingers aren't enough - you cry on them, weep, because its just not enough - they dont fill you how they should - and art -

god he sends you a video of his cock. says the name he'd given you that might as well be your real name now, hearing it from his lips makes you come alive alive alive - "birdie - fuck -" when he cums and his abs clench and thick ropes of white paint his stomach -

and you wanna taste it so bad - wanna lick it - he rubs the cum onto his fingers and spreads it back over his pink dick - "you should be here." he tells you, and the way he's looking into the camera feels like he really does see you, is really looking at you, there kneeling between his spread legs. "you should be licking me clean."

and you should, you should, you should.

you want to but. whenever you think about him seeing you your stomach rolls itself into knots. it'll kill you if his face twitches in disgust or disappointment. it'd genuinely kill you.

you start thinking - isn't the fantasy nice? is there really a need to meet? maybe you could he content with this.... with being his secret.

you text him one night - I've been so happy lately. why risk it with reality? reality is always disappointing to the fantasy.

im going to call you.

i cant talk..

yeah, i know. I'll talk. just listen.

your phone rings and you pick it up, chewing on your nails. you hear the exhale of his breath on the other line and wonder what he's doing right now. sitting at his desk? his bed? crossed legged or lounging? is the phone tucked between his shoulder and cheek so he can fiddle with his hands or is he holding it to his ear?

he says, "you've fucked me up real bad."

your frown. lips parting but of course you don't speak. he can hear you breathing, though. knows you're listening Intently, as you always are.

"really, do you know that? i used to be normal before you. like - this is fucked. what you're doing. but you made me want it - you said all these -" he sighs. shakes his head - "you said all these things and you made me feel shit and now i can't even be mad at you for it because if you're fucked in the head then so am i for wanting you anyway. but i can't keep -"

he looks at the shoebox he has filled with your notes. almost so full the lid can't even stay fully on.

"- i can't keep doing this, birdie. i dont even know your real name - i know what your pussy looks like but not you - that's insane. Its not enough."

your heart trembles. not enough, you think. not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough. not. enough.

"i need more. I'm graduating next year and - I'm leaving, do you get that? im not staying."

tears prick your eyes. you hadn't wanted to think about that. why was he poking holes in everything?

ill just follow you, you think. ill follow you anywhere.

"and I'll find someone - someone thats not you. and I'll fall in love with her and you'll have to watch that. and i can't prevent it because. well, you know me. i want a family. i want that boring white picket fence life. i want a wife and babies and - im going to have it. with or without you."

he lets that sink in before he continues.

"and im not even saying you're her - i have no fucking idea what could happen when we meet. but. i want to - I just want to see you - "

you hang up. its the first time you've done it.

[hadesisqueer]

Okay, so I finished JWCT and-- it was a great season.

Ben was awesome this season. All the mentions to how much he'd grown were funny, and the Big Ben joke was as well. I really liked him and his moments with Darius and Yaz, most of all with Yaz; I always enjoyed their friendship, and I loved how they talked about their feelings again. Also-- he has a girlfriend? A girlfriend?

Kenji's moments confronting his father and not letting himself be manipulated again were among my favorites this season. His conflict with Darius and their brotherly moments were cool to watch. Darius' whole arc, his grief and guilt over Brooklynn's supposed death was among my favorite arcs this season.

Yaz and Sammy were awesome in general, both individually and as a couple. Yaz is my favorite character, and I loved her arc. As someone with PTSD myself, I am very pleased with how the show didn't shy away from it and fully saying "PTSD". Personally, I am pretty happy that Yaz's PTSD was handled so realistically and with such care. Sammy was a badass this season, and her feelings and anxiety while dealing with Yaz apparently pulling away, her grief over Brooklynn's supposed death and the fact that her parents for some reason don't talk to her were handled realistically. I specifically wanna know what happened between her and her parents, because she adored her family and her family adored her as well back in CC; I really wonder what the conflict is that they're not talking anymore. Yasammy as a couple is awesome as well, as I said: their conflict is handled very well and you can understand both sides. The resolution was great and their moments in general were awesome. They're still easily the best couple of this show (not that it had a lot of competition), and probably one of the best in animated media in general. I love them.

Brooklynn being alive at the end? I think everyone called it, lmao. My girl is far too cool to just die, sorry, she can't die. I can't wait to see the others find out and their reunion.

Now, my thoughts about the other ships this season-- Brookenji and Dinostar lmao? I cheered when I found out Brookenji broke up; I was never a fan of the couple, sorry, it was TOO forced. Now, the whole Dinostar thing-- I was a bit suspicious of the way Darius was acting about Brooklynn and all, but I didn't think they were actually gonna have him admit he was in love with her, so that took me by surprise. I know they said it was unrequited, but yeah I don't buy that. I'm predicting it: it will turn out that it's not unrequited, that Brooklynn actually has feelings for him and they're going to pull a love triangle between her, Darius and Kenji. Pfff, it's like I'm seeing it. I'm really not a fan of love triangles tbh. But if it happens (and it's probably gonna happen, I can see it coming), I hope it ends up with Dinostar endgame instead of Brookenji. Like I already said, I really don't like Brookenji. And I've always been more neutral with Dinostar (and Benrius; I like, them too but don't pay them that much mind). I liked Dinostar platonically a lot, and while I didn't care much of it, I also never minded the idea of them becoming a couple. In fact, Brookenji took me by surprise while watching the show because to me if they were gonna pair Brooklynn with someone, I always thought it'd be Darius rather than Kenji, because I thought they made more sense. So, yeah, if it's Brookenji or Dinostar, Dinostar all the way for me lmao. Still not looking forward to the love triangle if it happens lol.

Also, Bumpy being a mom. Fave moment of the season.

Anyway, I need a second season. Like, right now.

[wooahaes]

on repeat

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 12/13

word count: ~7.0k

warnings: mentions of food. time loop au. some angst concerning not having a soulmate. also mentioned angst for other member (hao).

daisy’s notes: i feel like this one could have been longer but i didnt want it to get Too long compared to the other fics, yknow?

summary: What started as a day of making deliveries ended in Seokmin waking up on the same day. And then again, and then again… So, wherever you are, he needs to find you if he wants to see Saturday again.

Seokmin had been living his life on schedule ever since he turned ten. Before that, truly, because his parents had always set something for him (school, play, dinner, bath time, bedtime), but he knew that it became a little different after he turned ten. He had doctors appointments configured into that schedule, and every appointment had his dad holding his hand as the doctor tried yet again to work out what Seokmin's sign could be. Some of them would always be subtle and hard to detect, but there were plenty of things they could figure out.

And then when that list was exhausted, the afternoon doctor's appointments turned into Wednesday afternoon appointments with Dr. Jeon. She'd spoken to Seokmin for their first appointment with his mother sitting next to him, gauging how he truly felt about the fact he might not have a soulmate. He didn't tell her at first that it hurt to be different. Not with his mother next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He needed to smile for his mom, to be the bubbly boy she knew and loved.

Wednesday afternoon, Seokmin went back alone starting with that second visit. "My classmates made fun of me again for not having a soulmate."

Dr. Jeon had adjusted her bright pink glasses, and frowned at him. "How do you feel about that?"

That they're right, so it shouldn't hurt to hear the truth. "Bad." He'd curled into himself a little more, tugging his jacket closer to himself. Maybe he could disappear if he tried. "I can't help it."

Dr. Jeon's room was lit only by lamps and whatever light made it through the blinds and curtains. She hated the overhead lights (they buzzed loudly and she could never hear herself think, she said), and Seokmin never minded that they were off. The orange glow made things feel oddly safer. So did the fake sunflowers on her desk, tucked away behind her behemoth of a computer (Dr. Jeon said she could never keep them alive if they were real). As much as he wanted to disappear, he felt safe here. Dr. Jeon wasn't his mom. He didn't have to pretend for Dr. Jeon.

"I wish I had a soulmate," his voice was quieter that time. "Some of my classmates think something's wrong with me. That..."

She looked up from where she's been jotting something down. "That?" She prodded in that inquisitive way she did last time they spoke alone for a few minutes, and Seokmin knew he couldn't drop it without feeling guilty. "It's okay, Seokmin. You can take all the time you need."

He didn't meet her gaze. "They think that I'm never gonna be loved."

Dr. Jeon frowned again at his words. "Do your parents love you?"

His head shot up. "Yes! Of course they love me!"

"Do your friends?"

He nodded furiously. "And—And I love my friends. But what does that have to do with my soulmate?"

Dr. Jeon shook her head. "Love comes in many forms, Seokmin. A soulmate's love isn't guaranteed to be romantic, but even if it was, you aren't guaranteed to be with your soulmate. Love takes effort. My husband is a relationship counselor," she twisted her wedding ring around her finger, "and he sees plenty of couples who assume being soulmates is the only thing they need to make it work."

"But..." He furrowed his brow. "I thought soulmates were forever."

"They can be." Dr. Jeon paused. "You're so young, Seokmin, but you'll understand one day. A soulmate represents the possibility of that love, not the only existence of it." She chuckled. "Besides... You're too young to worry about romantic love. But for now, we can work on acceptance."

Acceptance...?

"Whether you have a soulmate or not, Seokmin," she said, the big beads of her earrings clinking together as she set aside her pad of notes, "you're still a person capable of loving others and being loved. It's hard for kids your age to separate out love like this, but you'll realize it as you grow up. There is nothing wrong with not having a soulmate."

Seokmin hadn't been able to accept her words for a while. Every day, he saw something new in the world about soulmates. A new drama based around them, or a new discount to those who can prove they're with their soulmate, or a new magazine with childish quizzes that pretend to predict your soulmate's traits. Every Wednesday, he found himself back on that plush couch and talking about something new. A new thing he's eliminated. Another classmate discovered their sign. News of an intern at his dad's work that found his soulmate (this one Seokmin wasn't supposed to hear). And every week, he left Dr. Jeon's sessions with those words said at the end:

There was nothing wrong with not having a soulmate... So why did Seokmin want one so badly?

Seokmin grew up. He started college, and he met Minghao through it. Eventually his routine changed as he began to balance work and school and a social life, all while living in a cozy little apartment with Minghao. Make breakfast, go to class, go to work, find time to shove food into his face, deal with more customers... It became a schedule he pretty much lived by with his social life a little less present. He'd get it back one day, hopefully. But he always made time for dinner with Minghao on Friday nights: their one day a week where they’ve completely slowed down together.

Minghao seemed more tired this week. "I'm tired of blue."

Seokmin looked up from his dinner. "Which blue?"

"Calm blue. Not sad. They're fine, wherever they are, and I should be glad for it, but I'm not." Minghao scowled.

Seokmin frowned as he watched Minghao. Their vision is filled with red now, he wanted to say. Are you okay with that? But he didn't, instead reaching out to ruffle his hair. "It'll be okay," he said. "At least they're calm now."

Minghao said nothing. He just sat there, staring, brows drawing together more and more.

"What?"

"It's darker."

His soulmate was upset by something. Seokmin averted his gaze. He kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt Minghao already had them himself: his frustration upset his soulmate. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the kind of person Minghao's soulmate was: someone who empathized even though they had no idea where their own soulmate's feelings were coming from. No doubt their vision would be clouded by those same blues. Minghao could be sharp-tongued and snarky at times, but he wasn't a monster. He worried for them whenever his vision was lit up with fiery reds and deep blues and nauseating green.

"I used to be angry, too, you know." Seokmin kept his focus on his own dinner now. "That I don't have one."

"You know I don't believe that." Minghao had always been one of the ones who, for some reason, believed Seokmin did have a soulmate. His sign just wasn't one of the obvious ones like his or Seungkwan's. But Minghao was reasonable about it, too: Seokmin was the kind of person who could forge his own soulmate if things felt right enough.

Seokmin waved it off. "But I understand being angry. It's something outside of your control, and it's hard to let that... be."

Humans, in Seokmin's experience, liked having control over themselves. He saw it in himself as a child, always wanting to have some choice in what he wore, in the foods he ate. He saw it now, too, in children when he went shopping and saw patient mothers holding up two options for their child to pick from. But he always saw it the most with his friends. The frustration that etched itself into Minghao's brows whenever the colors changed, the subtle annoyance before his thanks when someone pushed Seungcheol toward the right object, the way Seungkwan would flinch from pain sometime and wave off any concern. All things that stemmed from depending entirely upon another person in one way or another. And Seokmin felt it, too, in not having. A soulmate was never a guarantee to have love in your life, after all. Yet Seokmin didn't get to choose whether he would want this person at all. Would he? If he had a soulmate, would he fall for them? He had plenty of love in his heart to give... but would they even want it from him, too?

"You're right," Minghao's voice was softer now. "I think... I want to meet them someday."

Seokmin smiled. "I think you should."

“I’m scared they’ll hate me.” Minghao let out a sigh, staring down at his food for a moment. “So what if they do?”

“Then you’ll figure it out.” Seokmin reached across the table, squeezing Minghao’s hand gently. “If they’re your soulmate… Then they’ll try to understand you. You’ll do the same, right?”

Minghao met his gaze, but said nothing. Today wasn’t a day that he could agree with Seokmin, already too inside his own head. In time, he’d accept it: Seokmin knew he would. He just needed time, and Seokmin was more than happy to give him that and whatever space he needed. He could believe in Minghao’s soulmate enough for the both of them. 

And the day he met them face to face, Seokmin knew he’d been right: Minghao’s soulmate was patient in the way he needed them to be. Understanding, too, without any hidden malice toward him. Exactly what Minghao needed.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Not everyone was able to make it, of course. It was horribly last minute, but Seokmin figured it had to be important since it was. A few people had their reasons to not be there (work, other things that needed doing). Seokmin, on the other hand, was free from his usual job. All he had was the option to make some deliveries for extra money, and he'd probably spend the day doing that to get some exercise in. He rolled out of bed, got ready for the day, and stepped out of his bedroom to see where Minghao was asleep on the couch. Seokmin paused, brows drawing together until he saw that he was clutching his phone still. Ah. He must have come back late last night and fell asleep while on the phone with his soulmate as they made their way home. Seokmin left him with a blanket draped over him before he headed out for the day. Maybe next time, Minghao would end up asleep in his own room.

He checked the app while waiting for the elevator. Sure enough, there were already delivery orders made. Groceries (he only ever accepted the small orders), food deliveries, flowers... Seokmin scrolled through for the closest pickup to start. He wouldn't mind the long ride to wherever he was delivering to, but there was a flower shop just down the street that Seokmin always loved making deliveries for. Flowers made people happy, after all. One popped up from someone named Minho for someone named Jinki ("a 'thank you' gift for my hyung"), and Seokmin accepted it without another thought. Soon enough he'd taken the elevator down and set out for the day, pedaling his way to the flower shop.

Jinki had been caught off-guard when Seokmin showed up to his workplace with a vase of sunflowers he'd protected with his life. He passed the message onto the man, and made his way out for the next delivery, bumping into an intern on his way out. He'd apologized to her quickly, and started out for another delivery. A grocery delivery for a single dad who was taking care of a sick kid, another run to a store for cat food for a man who'd run low and couldn't leave his apartment easily with a broken leg, a lunch delivery for a young woman at work... Seokmin went about his day like any other, always greeting people with a smile before moving onto the next thing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, and immediately went to Jun's restaurant to rest.

Jun wordlessly set a cup of water in front of him. "Push these tables together after you wipe them down," he said. "Cheol will be here soon."

Seokmin had waved him off after agreeing, just enjoying a few minutes of downtime. It wasn't even his job—Where the hell was Mingyu?—but Seungcheol had insisted that it was important. He didn't mind helping out if it made things move a little smoother. He made his way to the back to grab the things he needed, and put himself back to work. The tables were wiped down thoroughly, and Seokmin pushed them together before straightening up. The next time the door chimed, Seungcheol had come in with the brightest smile on his face that Seokmin had ever seen.

"What happened?" He asked, pushing a final chair into place. "Minghao texted to say his soulmate had something come up. I'll let him know the good news tonight, okay?"

Seungcheol made his way over, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. "I should wait until the others get here, but..." He paused, and then shook his head. "No—I'll wait. It's important."

Seokmin stood still for a moment, mind already thrumming with possibilities. "It is good news... Right?"

He nodded. "It's..." His gaze softened a little as his smile fell a little. His happiness was still warm and welcoming, but now felt akin to the tenderness of a warm embrace than the crackling fire it had been before. "It's really good news, Seokmin."

The possibilities dwindled by tens and hundreds. No bad news... Which meant this had to be big. A promotion, or maybe he finally heard back from the graduate program he was trying to get into? Seokmin drummed his fingers along the chair he'd been clutching, before tearing him away from it. People began to file in over the next twenty minutes: Jeonghan and Joshua arriving together, Mingyu bursting into the room loudly (yes, Jun, he saw the restaurant was empty—and yes, he enjoyed resting after work) with Soonyoung coming in just a few minutes later, and eventually Vernon and Chan had joined the table while bemoaning a late bus. Mingyu helped Jun serve food as they caught up on life.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan called out from the other end of the table, a knowing look on his face. “You wanted to tell them something.”

Seungcheol fought back a smile. “I found them.” 

Immediately, the room went silent. Vernon was staring at him with wide-eyes, mouth agape. Jeonghan was just smiling, clearly having been informed ahead of time—and the same could be said of Joshua, who had this shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well?” Seungcheol pouted. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“That’s great!” Seokmin decided to say quickly, and he saw the way Seungcheol then smiled. “Do you want us to keep it a secret, or can I tell Minghao?”

“You can tell him,” Seungcheol waved him off. “I just wanted to tell the rest of you. I told Seungkwan—” He then paused, “Speaking of—All of you are terrible!” He scowled a little. “I told him first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!”

Jeonghan snorted, typing something out on his phone. “We didn’t do it all the time, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled, glancing over to where Jun had settled in the chair next to him. “Remember the shirt he wore to this place’s opening?”

Seungcheol let out another whine. “I didn’t know it was neon! Joshua said it wasn’t that bad!”

“It wasn’t!” 

If looks could kill, Joshua would be ash. But Seungcheol had started bickering with him about it (apparently that shirt had been a gift from Joshua… on April fools…), and Seokmin took his chance to steal another dumpling. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it to see it was the app he delivered for—there was someone for a restaurant not that far away. He dismissed it. He could use the money, sure, but… He’d stay at least a little longer. Just to see Seungcheol happy.

Fed up with his debate with Joshua (an immovable object against Seungcheol’s unstoppable force), Seungcheol let the topic go for now. “We’re going out on Tuesday, actually,” he said. “I think you guys will like them. We ended up shopping together for a while and talking—they’re really nice, and…”

Seokmin let his mind drift for a moment as he listened, his own heart sinking in his chest. Everyone seemed to be finding their soulmate over this past year. He looked at Jun for a moment. That meant he was the only one who hadn’t found his soulmate yet, right? He couldn’t imagine being the last person, but Jun seemed to be taking it well. Soonyoung, just as Seokmin did, went out on the occasional date—hell, both of them had dated a bit recently before deciding to prioritize other things for a bit. But it was weird knowing that he was going to be on his own now. Even Vernon and Jihoon ended up having soulmates. Seokmin had wanted to hold out hope that maybe that meant he had one, too, but…

The door opened, and in walked someone who looked at the group with wide-eyes. “Sorry—I thought this was still open—”

“It is!” Jun said, getting up and making his way toward the counter. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

The customer had started rambling about their friend, Minho, having been here a few days ago. Seokmin listened as they explained their own soulmate sign—the same as Jun’s—and he felt his feelings swirl inside of him. The computer chirped, and Seokmin moved to see that it was a takeout request. With permission from Jun, Seokmin accepted it and immediately went to snag the delivery request himself. He’d be back before the hour was over, and it’d give him some time to clear his mind. The customer had gone to an empty table, and Jun disappeared into the back to start cooking both their food and the order that Seokmin left hanging on the line.

“Hey.” Vernon had made his way over to the counter, voice lower, “Everything okay?”

Seokmin nodded, quietly sliding a fortune cookie across the counter. “I’m going to make a delivery,” he said. “Just to get some air.”

Vernon slowly nodded, immediately getting it. He’d stepped out when his own struggles were getting to him before he found his own soulmate, after all. “Gotcha. Is it a good tip?”

Seokmin glanced at the screen. Not really, but he didn’t mind: it was a small order and he wasn’t going far. It was better than no tip, at least. “Yeah,” he lied. “I could use the extra money.”

Vernon knew he was lying. But he nodded again, tucking the cookie into his hoodie pocket. “Travel safe, dude.”

All too quickly, Jun had plated the food. Mingyu had dipped into the back, delivering the dishes to the customer that sat alone, and Jun sat next to Seokmin. He’d uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, drawing a little cat onto the corner of the plate alongside a flower. Above it, he’d written some message of encouragement—all a part of the order’s request. 

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun capped the marker again. “If you don’t want to go.” 

Seokmin shrugged it off. “It isn’t far.” He paused, “Plus my bike is outside. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jun hadn’t responded, brows drawing together. He looked over to the customer in the room, watching as they ate for a moment.

“Jun?”

He took a step away, realization spreading over his features. “Sorry, I just—” He walked away, quietly greeting the customer. Seokmin watched as he rounded the other chair, hands curling around the top of it as he said something… and soon Seokmin knew. 

So he packed away the meal, tying the bag, and confirmed that the order was on its way. He’d congratulate Jun later on finding his soulmate. But now, he just needed to get out before the heat and smell of spice suffocated him. He grabbed his bike, unlocked it, and took off toward the towering building not that far into the city. It was all too easy to get into the building and get pointed toward the right floor. Normally, he’d leave it here, but he decided to waste a few minutes heading upstairs.

A young man had greeted him, breaking away from where his coworkers were gathered around pizza. One of them had already heckled him for being the one person to order something out, but it all seemed to be in good faith. The guy—Soobin, according to the app—had thanked him, quickly enough. Someone bumped into Seokmin as he was waiting for Soobin to hand him a cash tip (something he’d insisted upon), and Seokmin felt his heart leap. Maybe he’d text Jun and apologize and head home instead. Things were… off. 

Jun didn’t hold it against him when he did. All he did was wish him a good night, and Seokmin was thankful for it. 

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Which was odd. Seungcheol had already treated them out last night, so why invite them out again? What was he going to announce—a marriage proposal? Seokmin was still half asleep as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd agree to be there after he ate breakfast. He skipped it yesterday and soon regretted it. Yet the moment he stepped out of his bedroom, he saw Minghao asleep on the couch again. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over.

"Minghao, your bed is more comfortable," he nudged him awake. "Two nights in a row? Really?"

Minghao had furrowed his brow upon waking up, staring up at him. "Two...? What are you talking about?"

Seokmin walked away, stretching as he went. "Didn't you fall asleep here the other night?"

With a confused look, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He stretched before reaching for his phone, looking down to see the new message on it. "What does Cheol want...? It's short notice and he knows it."

Seokmin looked up, already growing more confused. "He found his soulmate. Don't you remember? I told you when I got back last night."

"You were asleep when I got in." Minghao frowned at him. "When did he tell you?"

"Last night when we..." He trailed off, looking at his phone more clearly now. It was Friday, but yesterday had been Friday. He knew it, because he'd lived it. "We had dinner with a couple of the others, and..."

Minghao folded his jacket over his arms, and it was now that Seokmin realized this had been what he'd seen Minghao wearing on Thursday night. "You must be psychic or something," he made his way toward his room. "Don't ruin the surprise. Cheol will never let you hear the end of it if you do."

Yesterday was Friday. Seokmin knew that yesterday was Friday. So why the hell was it Friday again? Maybe he'd dreamed the entire thing. Was that a sign? He'd look into it later. Food and work would come first. He'd start looking into it when he showed up to Jun's restaurant tonight.

Sure enough, every single order he'd filled yesterday was right there today. Seokmin accepted those, too: maybe his dream meant something.

Sure enough, the night played out the same. Seungcheol announced having a soulmate. The others teased him over the past outfits he’d worn. Joshua poked fun at a neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate came into the restaurant. And Seokmin accepted that same takeout order. This time he had almost avoided the person coming in, and he’d given them a strange look when they turned back to acknowledge him this time. Again, they apologized to him after a moment before going on, checking their phone.

And then he went to sleep, and, again, it was Friday.

Around the fifth Friday he lived through, Seokmin realized a few things. He’d already figured out that he both met his soulmate and missed them (he Googled a lot that third Friday), and that he just needed to find them to break the loop. Every single day, he tried to fill the same delivery orders. He tried to go to the same places at the same time. He met the same people most of the time—he’d already missed that final order twice now, snatched up by someone else while he was trying to figure out what was wrong. 

But that was… beyond several Fridays ago. This was Friday number fifteen, and he’d managed to exact a few things. Minghao had given him something to say to prove that, yes, Seokmin was trapped in a time loop (details of his date the night before, followed by a quick enough explanation that Minghao knew wasn’t bullshit by the panic in his voice), and it’d given him an ally in every repeat day. He’d slipped up and spoiled Seungcheol’s surprise during one of the loops and given up on finding his soulmate that time. It didn’t feel fair to potentially let that be the day. 

Minghao filled a cup with ice and water. “You’re not trying to make the day perfect though, right? Because you’re going to just prolong it if you do.”

“I’m not.” Seokmin had stretched out across their couch, arms resting over his stomach. He didn’t have to leave for another few minutes. “I just didn’t want to find them after I ruined Seungcheol’s surprise.”

“He doesn’t remember now, though,” he shrugged. “Try to find them soon, though. You seem tired.”

“I am.” 

Minghao came over to him, extending the glass to him. “Then get out there and keep looking.”

“I have to stick to the schedule, though,” Seokmin accepted the glass as he sat up. “Otherwise I’ll keep missing them.” 

“Remember what we all said?” Minghao crossed his arms. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

Seokmin moved over, giving Minghao space to sit next to him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“When I saw my soulmate, I…” He pressed his lips together, looking toward the windows for a moment. “I felt like I was at peace.” Again, he paused, thinking over his words. “Like… I was ready to try to love them. To learn more about them and see why they were my soulmate.” 

That night, Seokmin posed the question of how they all knew while sitting at dinner with the others. He mouthed an apology to Soonyoung for asking a question neither of them (to his knowledge) would ever understand, but he didn’t seem all too bothered by it. The group had gone quiet, all thinking about their individual answers. And as Seokmin expected, Seungcheol had his the soonest.

“I didn’t feel anything special until I caught them,” he admitted, looking at Seokmin. “But when I did… It felt like everything was right. Like… Everything had been leading to that moment. I was where I needed to be, I think. As much as I wanted to meet them sooner, I think we found each other at the right time.”

Jeonghan nodded along to it, a soft hum sounding from him as he agreed with every sentence. “Right. I know I’m different because I’ve always known mine, but… I felt like I’d found the missing piece in my life. I know that’s sappy to say,” he laughed softly, “but it’s true. I’ve loved them this long, you know?”

Vernon had pressed his lips together. And a moment later, he nodded, too. “Right. I’d liked them for a while, but I think realizing that our sign had been right there the entire time… It all just made sense—”

“You literally made out with them immediately, don’t act all sentimental,” Chan rolled his eyes. “But… I felt this pull when I met them. Their friend had caught me, but it still felt like something was pulling me toward them.”

“Right, right…” Mingyu nodded along to that. “It felt like things were right in this way I can’t describe.”

Joshua hummed to himself, the sole person without an answer yet. He raked his fingers through his hair before meeting Seokmin’s gaze. “Maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t really have anything like that. Like… I knew I was about to meet them since we’d agreed to meet up at a coffee shop, but the most I felt was this comfortable warmth. Like, we’d grown up sharing this experience together. It just felt like I met someone who understood me in some way.”

Seokmin noted down everything in his mind. A feeling of things being right, or a pull toward someone, or even that he’d found something he’d always been missing (although maybe without realizing it, if it were to apply to him). 

Yet he went to bed that night, woke up to another Friday, and wondered if he had broken something along the way.

Online forums helped plenty. He made and remade an account and the same post since around Friday number eight, always getting the same people chiming in and believing in him. You’ll find them soon! He’d always say how many Fridays he’d repeated, and yet there was always the same encouragement. Today was Friday number seventeen. Every single day, Seokmin woke up to the same situation. A new account, a new post. Seungcheol’s text. The same deliveries, the same thanks. The same breaks for lunch, including texting Mingyu about meeting up for coffee sometime (he hadn’t made it yet, but he was determined to). The people on the forums had told him the same thing his friends did: he would know his soulmate when he saw them.

So why was he so antsy today?

He’d shown up to Jun’s restaurant at the same time, wiping down the tables in record speed before relaxing with his cup of ice water. He listened to the clamor of pans in the back as Jun cooked for another table, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed. Friday number seventeen, and he wasn’t getting any closer, was he? Over two weeks and he’d found little ways to break up the monotony when he could. No one he delivered to was his soulmate. No one in that Jinki guy’s office had faced a repeat day (he’d done the stupid thing and stood up during day twelve and asked out loud, and he was thankful no one would remember it by midnight). No one in any of the stores he went to, either (again, day fourteen he did the same as he did with Jinki’s work). And he’d delivered to Soobin faster than ever before, only to receive no answer when he asked yesterday. 

So where was his soulmate?

Seungcheol arrived soon enough, smiling as brightly as ever. The others filed in over time, too. Jeonghan and Joshua arrived together once more, always talking about some movie they were still debating about the real meaning of. Mingyu made a big deal stretching and bragging about his short break at home with his soulmate—he’d bring the back takeout afterward. Soonyoung burst into the restaurant soon enough, always talking about how he was tired of his office being short on staff. Then Vernon and Chan, bemoaning their late bus as always, joined the table soon enough. Seokmin had known the following conversation by heart: Seungcheol announcing that he found his soulmate, followed by him pouting when no one immediately said anything. Seokmin always found himself being the first to congratulate him, saying he’d pass word along to Minghao if he wanted. Seungkwan sent Seungcheol all of the ugly outfits they’d lovingly tricked him into wearing over the years (never for serious events—always for a stupid get-together with the full group). The neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate would be there soon. They always came in at the exact same time…

Jun reached out, fingers brushing against Seokmin’s bicep and tearing his eyes away from his watch. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft enough to not alert the others, and Seokmin barely paid him any mind at first.

“Just waiting for something.” He paused, then realized that he was the only person present who knew of his situation. He looked up, shaking his head as he turned to Jun. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m fine. Just…” He glanced at the door for a moment. Any moment now. “Waiting.”

Seungcheol spoke up again about his soulmate, and Seokmin was thankful for the change in topic. He’d explain it all in due time. Hopefully today would give him another do-over and he wouldn’t worry Jun. Soon enough, the door jingled, and Seokmin rose up out of his chair. Jun’s soulmate was here, which meant the order from Soobin would be coming in soon. He’d made his way over to the computer, tapping at the edge of it as he waited impatiently. Soon. Soon. Jun had stood up, excusing himself from the group to unknowingly speak to his soulmate.

“Sorry,” Jun’s soulmate had said to him, and he slid them a menu without much thought. “My friend, Minho, came here with a couple of friends…”

Seconds passed with each tap of Seokmin’s finger. Soobin’s order. Always steamed pork buns and fried rice and some sort of beef or pork (the only thing that might change—the tiniest change that didn’t affect anything). He pressed his lips tighter together. Tomorrow, he’d start from the top. He’d ask everyone. He’d tell everyone that he was stuck in a time loop. Minghao would help him convince them all. If they knew that Seokmin was looking for his soulmate, they would help. 

The computer chimed. Seokmin tapped the order, reading over it. Steamed pork buns. Fried rice. Beef. And…

And more?

He hesitated to accept it, glancing over to Jun and his soulmate.  “Jun. There’s a request for takeout.” He paused for just a second, “I’m gonna confirm it, alright?”

Jun waved him on, and Seokmin felt his heart hammering in his chest as the ticket printed out. He made his way to the kitchen, clipping it to the line for Jun to refer to. This had to be a sign. You were there. You had to be there, right? No one ever changed their order like this. His brows knit together. Had he done something to set off some sort of butterfly effect? Was he just giving himself false hope now? He wanted out of this loop, soulmate or no soulmate. He’d lived this Friday seventeen times now, and all he wanted was to wake up on Saturday morning and go get coffee with Mingyu because Mingyu was offering. Mingyu would pay for a slice of cake or whatever dessert he wanted, too. And at this point, Seokmin had earned the same thing.

“Is everything okay?” Jun had approached him, keeping his voice low—again, mindful of what little privacy they had with so many of their friends present. “You seem… different.”

He shook his head. No need to worry him yet. “The ticket’s on the line,” he couldn’t stop staring at the screen now. An extra order. For what? For who? Jun hadn’t budged. Seokmin decided to lie: “Just… thought I recognized the name.”

Thankfully, Jun shrugged it off. Mingyu had made his way to the kitchens to help, and Seokmin held himself together. He would not get his hopes up. Not too high. This could be it, or it could be some sort of butterfly effect. He took a different way to the store earlier, after all. Wasn’t that what the whole thing was based around? Small actions having bigger impacts? Wonwoo would know. He was smart, he’d probably read about it. Maybe he’d ask Wonwoo about it on Friday number eighteen, if he woke up on Friday again. 

The food was made and plated before Seokmin knew, and he watched as Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. He’d drawn a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids—the unfamiliar order, Seokmin realized—and then drew a little flower next to it. He’d always done it for Soobin’s order. Would that change things, too…?

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun said as he re-capped the marker. “If you don’t want to go.”

“No!” Seokmin paused. When did he get so desperate? He waved a hand, trying to act casual again. “I mean—The money is good, and my bike is outside.” Please don’t push. “I’ll try to be back to help clean up.” But if this is it, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand. Seokmin tied the bag tight after throwing in a few sets of utensils and more than enough fortune cookies. He picked up the bag, stopping to turn back to Jun. 

His soulmate was right there, and Jun hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe…

“Jun?”

Jun looked up from where he’d begun to tidy up behind the counter, that same earnest look on his face. Seokmin always wondered what he looked like when he realized that person was his soulmate. Even when he missed being able to deliver Soobin’s order, he tried to go out, to retrace his steps and hopefully run into his soulmate. Then again… Would telling him throw things off even further? Or would Jun even want for him to tell him? 

Seokmin opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. He turned, looking at Jun’s soulmate. They were sitting alone, about to break into their meal. Jun would know soon enough. And… if it were him, Seokmin wouldn’t want to have the moment given to him like this. He turned back to Jun one last time. “Actually… Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”

He could see the concern on Jun’s face, clear as day. No doubt he would be calling him come morning. Seokmin made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others and saying he’d try to be back as soon as he could. Soon enough, he’d unlocked the bike lock and tucked it into his bag, strapping on his helmet. He’d biked this path so many times he knew it by heart, no need to keep track of his location through his phone’s map. He left his bike near the doors in the lobby, the way he always did when the secretary let him into the building. The elevator ride felt shorter than normal, and Seokmin found himself hesitating. He could hear Soobin and his coworkers talking in the other room. 

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way forward. Soobin lit up when he saw him. Again, he was heckled by another coworker for ordering something else, and Soobin waved them off.

“I’m not the only one,” he’d said this time. “They’re—” He paused, looking around, only to roll his eyes. “They’re in the bathroom still—”

“I’m here!”

Your shoulder bumped against Seokmin as you rushed in, and Seokmin felt his heart leap. It was you. You’d bumped into him that first day while Soobin was giving him the cash tip he’d insisted on. And now you were pulling out your own wallet, insisting on covering a cash tip since Soobin hadn’t tipped enough on the app. You’d been rambling about how today you felt like something other than pizza, and…

“It’s you.” 

You looked up, blinking as you stared at Seokmin. “Me…?” And then it clicked, those pretty eyes lighting up with realization. “You—” You had gasped, eyes already growing teary. “You’re—”

Seokmin could kiss you now, relief flooding every single cell in his body. He’d dropped the bag onto Soobin’s desk, ignoring the way the guy dove to make sure nothing spilled, and stepped forward. You had immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. Something felt right about it all, like his life had come together in a way he never knew it could have. The rest of your coworkers had gone quiet, and Seokmin had let himself cry a little. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice wavering. He held you tighter, “I—I almost thought I wouldn’t find you.”

You said nothing and just let yourself cry out of relief. 

When you finally pulled away, it was to tell your coworkers that you needed to leave soon. You knew just as well as he did that the two of you needed to be together when midnight struck, and you weren’t going to work through the entire night. Not with Seokmin right there with you. It seemed to renew the energy in your team as all of you got to work. You pulled a chair over for Seokmin to sit near you while he waited, and he took the chance to text a few things out:

To Minghao: I’ll see you saturday

To Jun: I’ll explain tomorrow :) don’t worry about me. I’m okay now.

And to Seungcheol: I found them. 

You had paused for a moment, looking at Seokmin curiously. After a moment, you caught yourself staring, and grew flustered. “Sorry. Just… What do you want to do? We've got some time to kill until midnight, so...”

Seokmin had been living his life adhering to routine. From childhood to adulthood to the past seventeen Fridays, everything had a time and place for him to be. So he just smiled at you, rolling his chair a little closer to you: “Whatever you want to do.” He paused, deciding to go all in on being cheesy. “Let’s follow our hearts this time, okay?”

And you, who had found routine over and over in your own life, smiled and made living on repeat worth it with that smile.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[manicpixiefelix]

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

[hyperfixatedbastard]

Hi i hope you doing well. I have a resquest... more like a headcanon. What if Adam was a dad ? What his behaviour will be ? Does he be a good or a bad father ?

I understand if you don't do it. I don't want to force you for something you don't want to.

Dadam (Dad!Adam) Headcanons

we bringing out the daddy issues on this one boys

WARNINGS: none

A/N: I haven't done a headcanon type of post yet, but they're easier to write than regular one shots and I'm too tired for that shit. The request didn't specify what kind of Reader (spouse or child), so I just went with general headcanons that don't specify the Reader at all. Insert yourself as you wish!

Also, thank you all for your patience! It's been very busy for me lately and I've been too exhausted to write much, so expect a lot more of these kinds of posts (the formatting is easier and I don't have to write a bunch of dialogue lol).

Dividers

As the father of humanity, Adam had...a lot of kids. The guy lived for 800+ years just populating the earth. That's a LOT of kids. We all know how the first two turned out. That is, not fuckin' well. To be honest, I don't think Adam valued his children. It was just kinda... a thing he had to do. (When Abel died and Cain got exiled, he fr just went and had another kid to replace them.) But I am in deep, deep denial and this is for my enjoyment as someone with severe daddy issues. So fuck all that.

At first, Adam is 100% the guy that freaks the fuck out when he finds out he knocked someone up. That man is SWEATING. He's actually pretty chill if it's someone he's in an established long-term relationship with, though. He still freaks the fuck out, but to a significantly lesser degree and with a much smaller chance of up and leaving. Once he's over the initial shock, he's shocked to find that he's kind of excited. Back when he was alive, having kids was just normal because it was such a common occurrence.

This man knows every little detail about pregnancy and infants. With the amount of kids he's had? He has seen it ALL. Sure, all his information is thousands of years old, but knowledge learned through experience is super valuable when it comes to this shit! He doesn't know what the fuck a uterus is, but he knows exactly how to make his partner the most comfortable, how to deal with cravings, etc. If his partner has a problem, he's got a solution. It might be a fuckin' weird one, but it works! He'll probably grumble and complain, but he doesn't actually mean it. Bitching is just his thing, y'know? But... pregnancy hormones + Adam's douchebag-ness = feelings getting hurt. If his partner starts crying because of some shit joke or complaint he made? He's scrambling so fast. "Shit, babe, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, fuckfuckfuck, don't cry—"

Once the baby is born, he definitely surprises literally everyone but his partner by actually doing helpful shit. Changing diapers? Easy fuckin' peasy (he does watch a tutorial online because he doesn't know how tf modern diapers work but he's a fast learner) Feeding? No problemo. Getting up in the middle of the night to do both of those things? His sleep schedule's already fucked, this shit ain't new.

When it comes to parenting and raising the kid, though... that's definitely where Adam struggles. He'd struggle with bonding. A lot. Adam mostly talks about things that you really shouldn't say around children, much less bond over. I think he'd be better at just letting the kid ramble while he's just sitting there, fully engrossed in whatever bullshit his child is saying. He's not just passively listening with little 'uh-huh's and nods, this man is active in the discussion. Have you ever heard a small child speak? They say the most random shit ever, and Adam would love it. It's peak entertainment to him. Even if it's just incoherent babbling, he'll have full-on conversations with this baby.

He'd definitely have some shared interests as the kid gets older. I think Adam's favorite shows/movies are a mix of action movies and shit like Power Rangers. He's not ashamed of it either—'fuck you, the Power Rangers are fuckin' cool.' This also goes for video games. I know that man is a toxic COD gamer boy and you can't prove me wrong. Basically, the only thing that keeps him from becoming one of those husbands that locks himself away in a man cave to play video games is the fact that he can game with his kid.

And once they get into school, he just gets really invested in the drama. Elementary school drama is such bullshit, and it'd be the best reality TV he's ever seen. "Oh, don't tell me—it's that bitch Cindy. The fuck did that little shit do this time?" He'd be gasping like it's a damn soap opera. 'Oh no she didn't!' kinda vibe.

He'd talk so much shit around his kid about the parents of their classmates, the teachers, anyone. Then the kid would repeat it and Adam would get sat down in the office with his kid like: "Your child said, and I quote, 'My dad says your mom's a bitch.'" "What? She fuckin' is." And yeah, he's not wrong - some of those parents are fucking nightmares.

If his kid got in trouble for fighting, his reaction would depend on the situation. If it was unprovoked and/or a part of bullying, he'd originally laugh it off but would be freaking the fuck out internally. He's probably a little traumatized by what happened with Cain and Abel. But if the fighting was an act of defense (whether of themselves or someone else) he would be the proudest dad ever. Fist-bumps his kid in the office in full view of the principal.

You cannot trust this man to give his kid the sex talk. It just will not go well. Like, if his kid needs advice when they're older (basically anything beyond 'where do babies come from') then he's your guy, but it's still gonna be awkward and uncomfortable. He'd probably have Lute handle most of those issues just so he doesn't have to know about his kid's sex life but can still trust that they have a responsible(?) adult if they have questions.

In terms of where Adam is lacking as a parent, there's a few areas in particular to focus on.

Emotional availability? Not his strong suit. At all. He can't deal with his own feelings, let alone his kid's. Most of the emotional support will be coming from his partner. That doesn't mean he doesn't try. But he can't show it with words all that well. He'll show emotional support in other ways—quality time, gifts, and acts of service for the most part. Like going out for ice cream, watching a movie, etc.

He's not good with discipline. To him, everything's no big deal. If his kid hasn't killed their sibling, that's good enough for him! Generally, his partner will choose when/how to discipline (with Adam's input ofc), but Adam's job is to just enforce it/not overrule it. He's 100% the type to be sneaky about it tho. If his kid is grounded, he'll go out with them to give them a break from being stuck in the house, y'know, stuff like that. Because of this, his kid forms a closer, different kind of bond than with Adam's partner. It's more friendly, I guess is the word? Like, his kid won't go to him for actual helpful advice, but if they fuck up somehow or are in a bad situation that they kinda got themselves into (drinking, car accident, etc.), then Adam is the parent they call.

I think Adam's peak parenting era would be when his kid is a late teen/young adult. 'Cause then he can actually be himself, for the most part. His personality is not very kid-friendly, so once his kid isn't really much of a kid anymore—he is so fucking excited. His relationship with his kid would be a lot more unconventional as they grow older. Like, he's really close with his kid once they're an adult. (totally not basing this off my relationship with my mom) His advice would be shit, but he'd give it if his kid needed it!

Definitely the type to text his kid more often than most parents. Mostly because he texts more like them and has the same sense of humor. Lots of shitty memes.

Also!! I think Adam would definitely make time for his partner. Date nights are a must. His kid better get comfortable with sleepovers at friends' houses or getting babysat by Emily 'cause he ain't letting parenthood fuck up his sex life.

I think that's all I got. Not sure how to end this so uh... shoutout to all you bitches with daddy issues lmao

Taglist: @little-miss-chaoss @fakeguysarehot @3sire-777

[lizzyk137]

Next Step into Our Forever- Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: Spencer and you have been together for a while and you're upset since you can't take the next step in your relationship, but Spencer has done something to help out. Warnings: Light mentions of Unsub, light mention of unsub torture, angst, fluffy, mentions of adoption

Your laughter filled Spencer's ears and he couldn't help the smile from stretching across his lips. They had just gotten to work and Jack and Henry was present in the bull pen, excited for the FBI's annual bring your child to work day. Both were dressed up, wanting to look like little adults, ready and eager to pretend to work with their parents.

He knew how excited you were to see all the kids, in fact you worked with children majority of your time at the FBI until you were transferred over to the BAU. The minute you walked through the elevator towards the double doors, a smile on your face as you passed him, you stole his heart. It was love at first sight and he was head over heels for you. It took him awhile to get the courage to ask you out, but once he did, you were inseparable.

You had been together for a few years and the thought of expanding your small family was always present, it was something you both wanted dearly, and it ate you alive because you couldn't give Spencer that anymore. After being caught by an Unsub, you have lost the ability of carrying a baby, something that ate at Spencer because he couldn't get to you in time.

You had never blamed Spencer or your team for not finding you in time. It wasn't their fault; it was the Unsub's fault for having such a mindset. You would never admit it but at night you'd cry yourself to sleep, the guilt tearing at your heart. Spencer had always wanted a family full of kids, as did you, but you couldn't give that to Spencer. At any moment, Spencer could leave, the reality that you couldn't make him a father could become too much.

Spencer took a sip of his coffee, the caffeine making his body happy and energized since you cut down on his caffeine intake, saying it wasn't healthy. He was happy to see you genuinely smiling around kids again, it had taken you awhile for the false smile to disappear, the pain to subside.

He heard your cries at night, the urge to comfort you so overwhelming, but he knew it was the last thing you wanted. He tried to make it easier for you, he's wanting to become a father was not as important than you. He'd give anything up for you and this want to become a father, which he had come to terms with not happening once he saw you lying there on the Unsub's table, couldn't come close to the need to have you by his side.

The morning moved by swiftly, your attention to all the kids that came by to collect stamps of each area of the FBI's headquarters didn't lessen. If you hadn't joined the FBI, Spencer thought you would have made a great teacher. One o'clock rang out, and you made your way over to his desk, your hands finding his shoulders and lightly massaging them. Your hands were incredible. You were incredible and he suppressed a moan from escaping his lips.

Your lips made their way to his left ear, your breath tickling his neck and giving him goosebumps, the urge to have you on his desk washing over him. "You ready for lunch?" Your voice sweet, interrupting his dirty thoughts.

He shook his head, like he was trying to clear away his dirty thoughts as he took one of your hands in his and you both made your way to one of the windows, sitting down on the floor. You each pulled out your lunch and ate. Usually, lunch was filled with laughter and nonstop talking, but today it was quiet, and Spencer was trying to figure out how to bring up what he wanted to talk to you about.

He wasn't sure if you were going to be upset with what he did, but he thought maybe it would help. "Um, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

He smiled as you took a big bite of your sandwich, your feet and head slightly swaying back and forth, something you didn't realize that you did when you were happy. "Please, don't be upset with me but I did something?"

Your eyebrows went up as you turned to face him. "Oh? And what is that?"

"I know you've been upset." Spencer started. "And I know you try to hide it." A sigh escaped your lips at his words. "I might be overstepping, but I put in a few applications to some adoption centers for us and I got a reply from one about visiting one of their centers. If you want, we could go and visit."

His voice was careful and slow, trying not to hurt you with his words, but your face was unreadable, and he didn't know what to expect.

Suddenly your face softened, "Oh, Spence." Your sandwich was suddenly discarded as you wrapped your arms around him. "I didn't know if you would want to go that way."

His arms pulled your close to his body, you were practically on his lap, and he could feel your body tremble a little as he felt his shoulder start to get wet. "I would do anything for you. If this is important to you then I'd do it, if you didn't want this then I'd forget about it right away. I just want you happy."

-------

It was a year since Spencer brought up adoption and here you were a year later, preparing the house you both bought for your two babies that were about to come home. You weren't thinking about adopting two kids, but when you saw a brother and sister sitting by the window drawing, you knew you had to bring them both home together.

It took a year for all the paperwork to go through and for Spencer and you to bond with each of them. Sammy, a sweet five-year old boy with a mop of curly blonde hair had taken a bit to warm up, protective of his four-year old sister, Annie, who was more than welcoming right away.

But now they were legally your children, and you were so excited for them to be able to be with them and watch them grow up.

Arms circled around your waist as you stared at the playroom in front of you and your head resting back against Spencer's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

The smile overtaking your lips was your reply. "Are you?" You looked up at him, his lips a few inches from yours. He nodded before reaching down to kiss your lips.

"I'm glad it's you by my side as we take this next step in our forever."

[thatnonameuser]

I always have a spot for "Peepaw" Lilia, Alongside his war days self but I wonder what happens if the role of the Platonic!yandere turns.. Romantic? Reunion for feeling that living spark that he once had when he was young for his Childhood Friends.

What if he's not aiming for the young yuu that the younglings are hunting down, especially if he's also trying to be matchmaker for his sons... but A hidden older darling in Ramshackle that he stumbled upon while a potion/ Spell mishap? (Turning to a tiny bat, turning a ghost, teleportation, etc). 

Their child Yuu is out there, and Here they are recovering from– something? Where woes and common ground being a parent comes in play?

Before I begin, all the Lilia lovers out there. The reason I don't want to write Lilia as a romantic yandere for the MC in the yandereverse, is because Lilia is the equivalent of 70 in the TWST World and MC is at youngest 18. That's just makes me too uncomfortable for me to write.

But for an older darling, I can do that....

For this I'll be using Yuu for the MC, ____ is you. Also, the reader is the parent/older sibling of Yuu.

Lilia is no stranger to the craziness that comes out of one's love for their one true love.

It was much wilder in the olden days. Back when duels to the death were much more common. It's for the best the times have changed. The very last thing he wants to experience is having to pick between his boys should their fight for human Yuu grow out of hand.

Things have changed for the better these days.

But he wishes he'd made the decision to fight for Maleanor back when she was alive. The hole in his heart from that loneliness and grief has carved a hole in him that not even his fatherly love for Malleus and Silver can fill.

He's expected to die with that hole craving him clean through.

But it seems Maleanor didn't head back to stars just yet.

He was never one to follow the darling reincarnation belief after her death. All his years of travel during his search for information killed that belief dead, before it ever came to life. That was until he found you.....

He wasn't expecting to find you when he did. He wasn't expecting to find you at all.

In fact, he'd been following Malleus on one of his little walks dates. Yuu's rejection of his love was harsh, but Malleus was always so kind at heart. Poor boy always yearned for love. And he would get that love, all Yuu needs is a push, or rather a very harsh and painful shove.

That was his plan for the night. Go and nudge force Yuu in the right direction.

Malleus teleported back to Diasomnia, he'd calm his temper when he returned later.

And that's when it happened.

He'd known that besides Grim, Yuu wasn't the only one that lived in Ramshackle, but he was yet to see the other person. And now he did.

The foolish Yuu retreats back to the safety of their dorm. And an another one comes out.

And for the first time in four hundred years, his heart feels full again. He feels whole, at just the sight of them. That same pull that he'd felt back in his youth. That warmth and joy that's born from undying everlasting love. He feels two hundred years younger, like a weight was taken off his shoulders.

It seems his dove came back to him. And you've come back as something equally beautiful as you were before.

The little darling in your arms is frightened, "______...Why?! Why did he?" Oh, so that's your new name. ______, it's just as lovely as the last one.

"Sh, It's okay. You're going to be okay, Yuu." You hug them in your arms like you want to protect them from this big dangerous world. Far away from all the evils that threaten them. Aw~ Isn't that just the sweetest? Your parental love is just as strong as it's been all those years ago. So desperate to protect your children from the threats that try to steal them from your arms.

Well, it would just be cruel to do what he planned to Yuu now. It would just tear you to shreds to be separated from them.

Perhaps, he can use this to his advantage. You don't want to be separated, so he'll give you the option of staying together.

Wouldn't that just make you all a big happy family? Him, finally reunited with his precious dove again and one of his boys happy with their darling Yuu. It will mean he'll have to play peacemaker pretty soon but, after he convinces them to share, all will be well.

"Go back inside, Yuu. Arm yourself, stay with Grim and don't open the door until I come back. OK?" You're so protective, willing to send your loved one away and staying behind in the danger zone. The two of you are so much alike.

He doesn't mean to jump the gun, but it seems Malleus might even be reunited with his mother, all he has to do is make contact. Well, the younger darling is inside now, no time like the present.

"Hello there, little dove!" You jump out your skin in surprise at his sudden arrival, but he's expected that. He also expected the kitchen knife you try to drive into his face. He catches it with ease, he's grown up with your fiery little temper. You haven't changed a bit.

"You're wearing Diasomnia colours, are you Lilia Vanrouge?" You recognise him, why didn't he start believing in that idea earlier.

"Why yes I am."

"Are here for Yuu?"

"No, no, my precious dove. I'm here for you." Your face widens in surprise.

Now, that he's much closer he can see the difference between Yuu and yourself. You're a little older, by a few years at minimum. Still, you're quite young. He won't have to worry about your fragile human life ending so soon. Plus, this means he can leave Silver with some siblings.

"But-But I don't-I'm not-"

He shushes you, there's no need for this fear, this trepidation. "Dove. I've mourned you for so long. Now that you're back, I won't ever let you leave me again."

"But what about-"

"Don't worry, the little darling you're protecting will be fine. In fact, I think we'll be one big happy family."

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd where Atsushi is one of Oda's children.

Oda survives because Dazai gets there in time and shoots Guilde himself. It's not till much later that they learn one of the kids is missing.

Oda found Atsushi after he'd escaped Shibusawa and was in the city. After the Dragons head incident so Oda doesn't know which Orphanage Atsushi came from.

Oda is hopeful he can find him and Dazai promises him that they will.

That was 4 years ago. Both have since joined the Detective Agency. Odasaku is out accompanying Ranpo out on some case out the city when Atsushi shows up in Yokohama.

Dazai doesn't recognise Atsushi because any pictures Oda had of his kids were destroyed. And they didn't meet prior.

Atsushi knows of him, and is suprised Dazai's in the Agency. He doesn't say anything, given no one else knows about Dazai's past and Atsushi doesn't want to upend that.

That, and the Headmaster had sewed seeds of doubt in Atsushi's mind about whether his dad ever loved him.

"If he cared for you so much, why did he leave you? Your birth parents abandoned you, so did he. The world has abandoned you Atsushi, you were not made to be loved."

So Atsushi's afraid if Dazai knows who he is, he'll be dropped from the Agency.

Dazai is sus, because hmm random orphan child who has a father in Yokohama. But he isn't from here... And he has the same name as my friends missing child.

Hmm????

He could outright ask him. But where's the fun in that? That, and Atsushi shuts down whenever his past has been asked about.

And Dazai doesn't want to upset him. He also doesn't want to call Odasaku until he knows for certain.

It all comes ahead when Kunikida makes a comment about Ranpo and Odasaku's case being over and that they would be heading back in a few days.

And Atsushi looks terrified. He practically runs out of the building and to the dorms. Dazai goes after him, concerned at his reaction. He figured with how lonely Atsushi clearly was that he'd be escatic.

But he's terrified.

"Dazai I... I can't talk right now I have to go."

Atsushi looked so small and afraid, clutching a bag of his meager possessions. "And you can, I'm not stopping you. But I'd like to talk first. If you still want to go, I won't stop you."

That calms Atsushi down a bit to sit down. "I'm guessing Ranpo's not the reason you ran out of there." Said Dazai. Atsushi shook his head, looking down in shame.

"I know Odasaku, he's a great friend of mine. We go way back in fact and I can tell you quite confidently that he's not a threat to you."

"I'm not scared of that..." Said Atsushi, he's given up hiding what Dazai has obviously figured out. "I don't want him to hate me, more than he already does."

"Why do you think he hates you?"

Atsushi looks at Dazai, tears in his eyes. But Atsushi won't cry, because kids who have been abandoned by there parents don't have the luxury of crying.

"Because I failed him. He... He went to his job and these men showed up..." Atsushi hugged his knees, the memory painful to this day.

"We all got put in a van it blew up. The tiger saved me but I couldn't save the others, not Kyousuke not Sakura...."

He couldn't save any of them, only himself.

"I got up, I went as far as I could before I passed out from the pain. I woke up in a hospital. The Headmaster was there, he took me back to the Orphanage. And that da-... Oda had abandoned me in the wreckage."

So that explained that. Odasaku had never legally adopted the kids, so of course they called the Orphanage.

Dazai felt a unique mixture of anger and sadness. Anger that Atsushi suffered, that Odasaku had suffered. Anger at that Orphanage and if Odasaku didn't kill that man Dazai would.

And sadness. Sadness that Atsushi had suffered, that Odasaku had suffered and Atsushi was so afraid Odasaku wouldn't want him.

"4"

"4?"Asked Atsushi confused. "4 years, that's how long Odasaku has been looking for you. He's been searching for you day and night since he found out you might be alive."

Dazai had never seen Odasaku so distraught as the day his kids were killed. He'd have walked to his own death.

But hearing Atsushi could be alive, that sliver of hope had ignited life back into Odasaku's eyes. Maybe that's partly why they'd joined the Agency to begin with.

Dazai looked Atsushi in the eye, needing him to believe him. "Odasaku would never knowingly abandon you. He thought you were dead, he ran off guns blazing for revenge. And you did not fail him."

Atsushi processes of all of this. Hope ignited in his heart along with the fear. He wanted so desperately to believe it was true.

Dazai said his piece and waited a while before asking if he could tell him. Atsushi nodded, putting his things away as Dazai stepped outside to make a phone call.

"I've found him."

Oda came barrelling into the room a lot quicker than he should've been able to. The moment his gaze found Atsushi, tears welled up in his eyes.

"You're alive."

The sheer relief in his voice bought tears to Atsushi's eyes, because Dazai was right. He wasn't abandoned, he wasn't hated or forgotten.

"Dad!"

Odasaku caught Atsushi as he ran into his arms. He sobbed into his embrace, and Odasaku wasn't much better. Hugging his boy, his son in his arms for the first time in years.

"I'm here, I'm here. I will never, never let you go again. Atsushi I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Sobbed Odasaku. "I thought you'd hate me, that you didn't want me." Said Atsushi and Odasaku shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Never, I could never hate you Atsushi."

Dazai watches them with a soft smile before leaving. They'd have a lot to talk about, but for now they were together again and that's all that mattered.

He had another phone call to make.

"Dazai, is everything alright?"

"Everything fine Ango, more than alright actually." Said Dazai, and as if reading his mind Ango smiled. "He found him, didn't he?"

"He did, which brings me to my call" the smile on Dazai's face shattered to pieces. "I need you to find the bastard responsible for taking Atsushi away."

"Tell me what you know so far. We'll go from there."

The Headmaster and all those involved was going to pay for this.

The Guild would probably crumble too the moment Odasaku found out about Atsushi's bounty. But that was for another day.