#the most serious and complicated drawing i ever did truly

[jazzkolart]

hey. Dont cry. Lovely Flower for a lovely Pal

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Part 21: A healing Point

A/N: 2 more chapters left 😭🩷 Enjoy!

Previous chapters ☞ HERE ☜

3.9k Words

The cool night air whipped past me as I soared through the sky, the X-Mansion drawing closer with every passing second. My heart pounded in rhythm with my thoughts, each beat echoing with the realization that I was finally heading back to where I truly belonged. The memory of Logan's confession, the raw emotion in his voice, and the intensity of our connection replayed in my mind like a beacon, guiding me back to him.

The mansion came into view, its imposing structure lit up against the darkness of the night. I touched down softly on the lawn, my boots sinking slightly into the damp grass. For a moment, I stood there, taking in the familiar sight of the place I woke up from. The tension that had been gripping me since I left the sanctuary began to ease, replaced by a sense of determination.

I knew what I had to do.

With a deep breath, I headed toward the entrance, my steps quickening as I approached the heavy front doors. I pushed them open and stepped inside, the warmth of the mansion enveloping me like a comforting embrace. The sound of muffled voices reached my ears, and I followed them down the hallway until I reached the kitchen.

The room was filled with familiar faces—Hank, Scott, and Charles, who were seated around the kitchen table, engaged in a serious discussion. But it was Logan who immediately caught my attention. He was leaning against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression dark and brooding. His eyes snapped to mine as soon as I entered, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still.

I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. But before I could say anything, Charles noticed my presence and turned to me, a look of relief washing over his face. "Violet, you're back."

The others looked up, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern. But Logan's eyes remained locked on mine, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. "I'm back."

Hank was the first to speak, his voice gentle but tinged with curiosity. "What happened? Why are you here?"

I hesitated, my eyes flicking to Logan before I answered. "I... I remembered something. Something important. And I realized that I had to come back, that I needed to be here with all of you."

Charles nodded, his expression understanding. "We're glad you're safe, Violet. But what did you remember?"

I took a deep breath, my gaze shifting to Logan once more. "I remembered... how much Logan means to me. I remembered the love we shared, the connection we had before everything got so complicated. And I realized that I can't keep running from it, from him."

Logan's eyes softened at my words, the tension in his posture easing ever so slightly. But he remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I made a mistake," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I let myself get lost in my confusion, and I hurt people I care about in the process. But I can't keep pretending that my heart doesn't belong to Logan. It always has, and it always will."

The room fell silent, the weight of my confession hanging heavy in the air. I could see the understanding in the eyes of the others, the way they nodded slightly as if they had suspected this all along. But it was Logan's reaction that mattered most to me, and I held my breath as I waited for him to say something.

Finally, Logan pushed away from the fridge and took a step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Violet," he began, his voice rough with emotion. "I never wanted to push you away. I was trying to protect you, to keep you safe from everything that was happening. But the truth is, I can't stand the thought of being without you."

His words hit me like a wave, crashing over me and leaving me breathless. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to see. And in that moment, I knew that this was where I was meant to be—with him, with the X-Men, with the people who had become my family.

"I don't want to be without you either," I whispered, my voice filled with the certainty that had been missing for so long. "I'm tired of running, of hiding from my feelings. I love you, Logan. I always have, and I always will."

Logan closed the distance between us in two quick strides, his hands cupping my face as he pulled me into a kiss that was both fierce and tender. It was a kiss that spoke of everything we had been through, of the pain and the longing, but also of the love that had never truly faded. As our lips met, I felt a sense of peace settle over me, as if the missing pieces of my heart had finally fallen into place.

When we finally pulled back, Logan rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You're mine, Violet," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "And I'm yours."

I smiled, my heart swelling with happiness as I whispered back, "Forever."

The sound of someone clearing their throat made us both look up, and I realized that the others were still in the room, watching us with varying degrees of amusement and relief. Charles gave us a small, approving nod, while Hank and Scott exchanged a look that seemed to say, "Finally."

"Well, it's about time," Scott quipped, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Logan shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Watch it, Summers."

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension that had weighed on me for so long finally lifting. It felt good to be back, to be surrounded by people who cared about me, who understood the importance of family and love.

Charles cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "I'm glad to see that you're back where you belong, Violet. But I have to ask—what happened at the sanctuary? Did something happen with Erik?"

The mention of Erik brought a shadow over my thoughts, and I felt a pang of guilt and fear as I recalled our last encounter. "Erik... he wasn't what I thought he was. He wanted to use me, to use my power for his own purposes. When I told him I was leaving, he... he tried to stop me."

Logan's grip on my hand tightened, his expression darkening with anger. "Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head, though the memory of Erik's cold, calculating eyes still sent a shiver down my spine. "No, I managed to get away. But he's dangerous, Logan. I don't know what he's planning, but I know that he won't stop until he gets what he wants."

Charles frowned, his expression thoughtful. "Erik is a powerful and determined man. If he believes that you are a key to his plans, he may not let this go easily. We'll need to be prepared for whatever he might do."

Logan nodded, his jaw clenched with determination. "We'll deal with him, Charles. But right now, my priority is keeping Violet safe."

I looked up at Logan, my heart swelling with love and gratitude for the man who had always been there for me, even when I didn't realize it. "We'll deal with him together," I said firmly, my voice steady. 

Charles nodded, his expression resolute. "Indeed. We'll stand together, as we always have."

Logan squeezed my hand, drawing my attention back to him. "You ready for this?" he asked, his voice a mix of affection and resolve.

I smiled up at him, my heart filled with a sense of peace and certainty that had been missing for so long. "As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything."

As the night deepened, everyone moved into the living room to talk. Logan and I sat together, our hands intertwined, our hearts beating in sync. For the first time in what felt like forever, I am happy and certain of who I am. Despite the fact that I still haven't regain all of my memories. 

"Thank you for coming back," Logan whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

I looked into his eyes, my heart overflowing with love. "Thank you for waiting for me." 

As the conversations around the room softened into a gentle murmur, I turned my gaze to Logan, studying the rugged lines of his face. His eyes, dark and intense, held a warmth that sent a shiver of anticipation through me. I could feel the strength of his presence beside me, grounding me in a way that nothing else could. 

But beneath that calm exterior, a fire was building—a deep, undeniable need that had been simmering under the surface for too long. The urge to be closer to him, to feel the warmth of his skin against mine, became overwhelming. My thoughts clouded with desire, and I could no longer ignore the pull I felt toward him.

The way he looked at me, with such raw, unfiltered emotion, only fueled the need growing inside me. The memories of our time together, the passion we had shared, flashed through my mind, making my heart race. I wanted him. No—I needed him.

"Let's go to my room," I whispered, my voice low and filled with a hunger I could no longer hide. Logan's eyes looked at me confused. I rolled my eyes. "To talk" Without a word, he nodded, and together we stood, leaving the quiet hum of the mansion behind us.

As we made our way through the dimly lit corridors, my heart pounded with anticipation. Each step felt like it took an eternity, the space between us charged with an electric tension that was hard to ignore. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the silent promise of what was to come hanging heavy in the air.

When we finally reached my room, I pushed the door open, my breath hitching as I stepped inside with Logan right behind me. The room was bathed in a soft, golden light from the bedside lamp, casting gentle shadows across the walls. I quickly closed the door and turned to face Logan. 

"What is it that you want to t-" Before he could say another word, I cashed my lips onto his. He hesitated for a moment, but then he cupped my face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly across my cheek as he deepened the kiss.

I melted into him, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, desperate to feel him against me.

Logan's hands moved to my waist, pulling me against his solid frame as the kiss was desperate, growing more urgent with each passing second. The feel of his body and bulge pressed against me sent a shiver of pleasure through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch.

Breaking the kiss, I met Logan's gaze, my voice husky with desire. "I need you, Logan," I whispered. Feeling the heat inside of me increase by the second. 

"You have me, Bub," He replied, his breath warm against my lips. My hands trembling with need as I reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward.

Logan helped me pull the shirt over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. I traced my fingers over his rock-hard abs, making me whimper in need. 

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his chest, tasting the salt of his skin as I worked my way up to his neck, his jaw, and finally back to his lips. Logan groaned softly, his hands finding the hem of my shirt and pulling it off in one swift motion. His hands explored my body, the warmth of his touch sending waves of pleasure through me. 

We moved together, shedding the rest of our clothes in a desperate, hurried rush, until there was nothing between us. Logan lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed and laying me down with a gentleness that belied the raw hunger in his eyes. He joined me, his body covering mine as he kissed me again, his lips trailing fire down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower still.

I arched against him, every nerve in my body alight with sensation as his hands and lips explored every inch of me. The tension between us built to a fever pitch, the need for him overwhelming any coherent thought. All I could do was feel—feel the heat of his skin against mine, the strength of his body, the way he moved against me with a primal, possessive need.

As he kissed my neck, I couldn't resist the urge any longer. "Please Logan." I moaned. "I need you." 

He looked at me with lust in his eyes. He got off and pulled me to the end of the bed. He stood, grabbed my waist to steady himself, and slowly inserted his dick into my gummy walls. He grunted as he slowly entered inside of me, making me moan as he stretched my pussy. 

As my legs were hanging in the air, he slowly started to pound inside me. I could feel the intensity building with each thrust. His grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer to him with each movement. The sensation was overwhelming, sending shivers down my spine as I surrendered to the pleasure. I tried to make as little noise as possible by biting my lip, but Logan held my jaw open. 

"No, I want everyone to hear how good you sound when you're with me," he groaned.

His words sent a rush of excitement through me, heightening the experience even more. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, giving in completely to the passion between us. 

He got on the bed, now hovering over me, and put my legs around his waist to deepen his thrusts. 

He groaned as he felt my legs wrap around him tightly. I felt my orgasm building rapidly. 

"I think I'm going to-" Before I could finish, I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me. I clenched on his dick tighter, unable to stop the overwhelming sensations pulsing through my body.

He roughly moaned at the intensity of my grip. Making him lose control as he released himself inside me, our bodies trembling with the force of our shared ecstasy. 

But he didn't stop; he kept going, and I felt sensitive and weak as he began to rapidly thrust into me again. 

"I'm going to show you how much I needed you." he said as a line of sweat started creeping on his forehead. 

I finally grabbed him by the neck and kissed him in a deep kiss as he continued to thrust into me. The room filled with the sound of our heavy breathing, and the bed creaked beneath us. 

He groaned at the way I clenched around his dick. He moaned in pleasure, his hands gripping me tightly. 

"Your pussy feels so much better than I remember," he said as he began thrusting in me harder and harder, making me scream his name. 

"Logan...ughh.. Logan," I moaned out. His dick hit the spot just right, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. 

I scratched his back roughly, urging him to go deeper and faster. I began feeling the same tingling sensation that I felt right before—the feeling of reaching the peak of pleasure. 

We both cried out in release as we reached orgasm. Making me shake beneath him as his sloppy thrusts continued to push me over the edge. 

I felt his warm seed shoot inside of me, making me moan in pleasure. 

We laid there for a long time, tangled together in the aftermath, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing slowly returning to normal. Logan held me close, his hand gently stroking my hair, his lips pressing soft kisses to my temple.

"I love you, Violet," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I looked up at him, my heart full to bursting with love for this man who had stood by me through everything. "I love you too, Logan," I whispered back, my voice filled with the certainty of my feelings. "I always will."

As we lay there together, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us in the quiet, intimate space we had created. I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, our love stronger than anything that could come our way.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt at peace, knowing that I was exactly where I was meant to be—in Logan's arms, with the man I love.

As Logan and I lay together, the intensity of our connection still humming in the air, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of peace. The weight of everything that had happened, all the confusion and heartache, seemed to melt away in the warmth of his embrace. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, finding comfort in its familiarity.

For a while, neither of us spoke. We simply enjoyed the closeness, the quiet after the storm. But eventually, the reality of our situation began to creep back in. There were still challenges ahead, unresolved conflicts that needed to be faced.

I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow to look into Logan's eyes. The love and warmth I saw there gave me strength, but I knew we couldn't ignore the dangers that still loomed over us.

"Logan," I began, my voice soft but steady, "we need to talk about Erik. He's not going to just let this go."

Logan's expression darkened at the mention of Erik, but he nodded, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "I know, Violet. We'll deal with him. But we're going to do it together this time. No more running, no more hiding."

I nodded, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within me. "Together," I echoed, the word a promise as much as a declaration. "I won't let him control me, and I won't let him come between us again."

Logan's grip on me tightened, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze. "I won't let him hurt you, Violet. I won't let anyone hurt you."

I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the reassurance of his presence grounding me. "I know," I whispered against his mouth. "I trust you, Logan. More than anyone."

As we lay there, a sense of determination began to build within me. I had spent so long running from my fears, from the truth of who I was and what I felt. But now, with Logan by my side, I felt strong enough to face whatever came next.

"We should go back to the others," I said after a moment, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes. "We need to figure out what our next move is."

Logan sighed softly, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're right. We can't ignore this."

We took a few moments to gather ourselves, the intimacy of the moment still lingering between us. But as we dressed and prepared to leave the room, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn't just about me and Logan anymore—it was about protecting the people we cared about, about standing up to the darkness that threatened to consume us.

When we finally rejoined the others in the common room, the atmosphere had shifted. The lightheartedness from earlier had given way to a more somber, focused energy. Charles, Hank, and Scott were deep in conversation, their faces serious as they discussed the latest developments.

As Logan and I approached, all eyes turned to us. There was a quiet understanding in the room, an acknowledgment that what lay ahead would require all of us to be at our best.

"Glad to see you two back," Hank said with a small, approving nod. "We were just discussing our strategy moving forward."

Charles looked at me with a kind, understanding gaze. "Violet, we're going to need your help. Erik is careless and reckless, and if he's determined to pursue you, we have to be ready for anything."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. "I'm with you," I said firmly. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it. We can't let Erik continue down this path."

Hank stepped forward, his analytical mind already working through the details. "We've been monitoring the sanctuary since you left. There hasn't been any significant movement yet, but we can't be complacent. Erik is unpredictable, and we need to be prepared for all possible scenarios."

Logan squeezed my hand, grounding me in the moment. "We'll be ready," he said, his voice filled with the quiet confidence that I had come to rely on. "We'll protect this place, and we'll protect each other."

Charles nodded in agreement, his expression resolute. "Indeed. This is about more than just defending ourselves—it's about standing up for what we believe in, about showing Erik that his way isn't the only way."

As we continued to discuss our strategy, the plan began to take shape—a coordinated effort to monitor Erik's movements, to anticipate his next move, and to ensure that the mansion was secure.

As the discussion drew to a close, I felt a renewed sense of determination. There was still much to do, but for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful. We were ready for whatever came next. Before we dispersed, Charles placed a hand on my forearm, his expression gentle but firm. 

"Violet, I know this hasn't been easy for you. But I want you to know that we believe in you. You're not alone in this."

I smiled at him, gratitude welling up inside me. "Thank you, Charles. I won't let you down."

He nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know you won't."

As we left the common room, Logan and I walked side by side, our hands brushing against each other as we moved through the mansion. The night was quiet, the tension from earlier easing as we settled into a comfortable silence.

When we reached my room, Logan paused, turning to look at me with a seriousness that made my heart skip a beat. "Violet, whatever happens next, I want you to know that I'm here for you. Always."

I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, my eyes locked on his. "I know, Logan. And I'm here for you too. We can do this, as long as we're together."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, and I felt the warmth of his love and support envelop me. "Let's get some rest," he murmured.

I nodded, a sense of peace settling over me as we entered my bedroom.

As I closed the door to my room, I took a deep breath, letting the events of the day wash over me. There was still much to be done, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

I swiftly changed my clothes with my magic with something more comfortable and I crawled into bed, laying on Logans chest and closing my eyes as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with me. 

"Good night, Lo," I said as I felt the vibration of my tired voice on Logan's chest. 

"Good night, Bub." 

Next Chapter: 22: Dawn

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 

ok last thing abt diluc 

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 

all in all, life w him is so sweet 

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy. 

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 

the real, damaged pieces of his soul 

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES 

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 

life with her literally feels like y’all are married 

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

[janetbrown711]

“Why are you so nice to me” wakko or yakko max

To Wakko's delight, his brother kept good on his promise. Weeks passed and his brother devoted several days to restoring their bond just as it once was (the other days Yakko spent with Dot or with the both of them).

Heck, Wakko was so secure in his brother not abandoning him when Yakko asked if he could start up writing to Max again (at a much slower pace than before, he promised), Wakko said yes (barely) without hesitation. He knew that Max made him happy... and that he kinda owed it to Yakko to let him hang out with him again, as their little "not exactly falling out" was his fault (to him, anyway).

Everything was starting to seem... good- perfect, even.

However, Dot's birthday was rapidly approaching and Yakko was starting to get ideas.

"You know what we should do?" He said, lounging on the couch in the sunroom. "We should throw a ball for your birthday, Dot."

Dot perked up from her book. "What? Why? We never held balls for our birthdays before."

Yakko rolled his eyes. "That's because Grandma ruins everything. In this book I'm reading it says it was tradition for the royal family to hold big celebrations on their birthdays. I think it'd be fun- plus a great opportunity for you two to start making some friends."

Oh.

This again.

Wakko tried to laugh it off. "You'd have to get mum and dad to agree, and they've been pretty busy with the flooding in the west."

"Bah, that's mostly dealt with at this point. I'm sure they could use the break too," Yakko countered.

"B-but mom's coronation wasn't even that long ago," Wakko argued.

"It was over three months ago," Dot rolled her eyes. "I think a party would be fun," she looked to Yakko.

"Didn't you have fun at mom's coronation?" Yakko asked his middle sibling.

"Well I- I suppose I did..." Wakko thought back to the massive chalk drawing he had covered the floor with. It was pretty fun, and it made a lot of people happy.

"See? I'm sure a party in Dot's honor would be fun all the same- plus, making friends is great, I'm sure you'll love it," Yakko said with a reassuring smile on his face, though Wakko still wasn't quite convinced. However, he could see how much both of his siblings wanted this (even though the idea was only seconds old) and who was he to say no?

"Alright, I guess we can do that," He said, which made Dot clap in excitement as she began to detail everything she'd want for a party in her honor.

Wakko had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

As expected, their parents were ecstatic at the idea, and they spared no expense in attempts to create what they believed a much-needed celebration for the people of Warnerstock and their allies.

And to say it truly was Dot's creative vision would not be false. There were a lot of pinks- a lot, a lot of pinks. Though mostly tasteful, if you saw it it was hard to look away from.

But still, Wakko was happy for her, she was having the time of her life planning it all out with their dad, who was equally happy to spoil his little girl.

However, he knew deep down that despite what Yakko had sworn, her party was probably going to be very different from the coronation. He hoped it would be fun, but the more he watched decorations being put into place and talks about the guests and feasts the more he was beginning to worry.

He didn't say anything though, as the rest of his family seemed far too happy for him to want to bother them with his plight. They deserved this break, he was probably just being dramatic anyways. He'd be fine- and maybe make a friend just like Yakko said he would.

Wakko did his best to remain optimistic, despite the knots forming deep within.

It wasn't too long before the grand day arrived. Wakko had thought they had pulled out all the stops just for decorating but the day itself was insane too. Dot was showered in presents and even was taken out to town with William to go shopping for anything her heart desired, meanwhile Yakko, Wakko, and Lena stayed behind and supervised the final touches on the decorations.

Okay- really only Lena supervised, but Yakko and Wakko were technically there too. They didn't stay with her long, as she gave them a list of things to check up on so she could talk to some people which they were fine with.

Together, the brothers walked through the massive dining hall, checking curtains, flowers, vases, tapestries, etc. to make sure they were in the exact right places (not that the list really said where they were supposed to be) and checked them all off.

"So... are you looking forward to tonight?" Yakko asked, checking off 'left-most curtains'.

"Oh- uh- Yeah! I am... are you?" Wakko quickly said.

"Oh yeah, totally, it'll be great to see Max. It's been a while... you're still cool with that, right?" Yakko glanced down at him before checking another thing off.

Wakko nodded. "I won't try to prank or drive him away this time, I swear."

Yakko snorted. "I know you know better, I'm just asking if you're okay with me hanging out with him for tonight instead of you."

"Yeah, I am. You did say I should make friends after all," Wakko said, fiddling with gloves. Yakko looked away from the checklist and gave his little brother a side hug.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" Yakko asked.

"Yeah, yeah," It was Wakko's turn to laugh.

"I'm serious-" Yakko let go and punched Wakko's arm lightly. "You're doing great. You should be proud of yourself too, you've come a long way."

Wakko smiled a little. "Maybe."

Yakko chuckled. "Well, it looks like we're just about done with this list. Wanna go turn it in to mom and go get changed into uncomfortable suits and greet guests for hours on end, or do you wanna just double and triple check the list until the last second?"

"Definitely check the list," Wakko laughed too.

And so the brothers did, until Lena caught wind of their shenanigans and forced them to start getting ready for the party (though they did cut a lot of time so technically they still regarded it as a win). At least those outfits weren't the worst they've ever worn (they were pretty confident nothing would ever top how itchy and miserable their funeral outfits were). Still, standing around and greeting people was a dreadfully boring job, not to mention awkward until their father and Dot eventually came to join them and actually do their job properly.

They knew their mom was busy, but leaving the two of them in charge was a little questionable.

Plus, after all that interaction, Wakko was starting to feel weird. Tired, but also not-? It was complicated. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone and maybe pace for a while, that'd be nice.

However, the party was to start in not too long, so he really didn't have time for that. He followed Yakko around for a while to the main party room where the people they had greeted before were all chatting amongst themselves. It wasn't too loud yet, but Wakko's tail twitched nervously as he weaved between people and conversations.

He hadn't been this nervous at the coronation- Wakko really wished he could figure out why he was feeling this way. Alas, he was unable.

He did feel a little better as Yakko and he found a spot of their own to chill in for a while, away from all the people.

"A lot of people came to this shindig, huh?" Yakko joked, "though probably no more than those who attended mom's coronation."

"Yeah..." Wakko said, trying to compare them mentally.

"More kids though, which is really good for you and Dot to make friends," Yakko said.

"Yep, yep," Wakko feigned enthusiasm.

"Are you okay..?" Yakko asked, causing Wakko to straighten out his act instantly and nod.

"Of course," he said. Yakko frowned.

"You don't have to lie you know," He remarked. Wakko bit his lip.

"M'just a little tired," he shrugged, figuring it was close enough to the truth.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Yakko asked worriedly.

Wakko nodded again. "I'll be fine, I'm probably just hungry."

Yakko laughed a little. "Alright, but you'll tell me if anything is wrong, right?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

The brothers stood in a bored silence for a while, before the rest of their family walked in and the festivities officially began.

It started with the feast, which was pretty harmless, as Wakko enjoyed talking with his family and the food was "quite excellent". The hall was filled with good cheer and hearty laughter, which he could appreciate.

However, after that, things began to blur.

It seemed only moments ago he was eating when suddenly everything was taken away and it turned into social hour. and Dot and their parents disappeared once more. He recalled Yakko asking if it was okay for him to go to Max, to which Wakko nodded and even pushed him away some. Oh god- he hoped that wasn't too aggressive.

Now he was alone. People were talking, walking, dancing, all sorts of activities. Wakko tried to take it all in, but all of the colors and sounds were starting to burn his eyes.

Friends. He was told he had to make friends.

He tried looking around for kids his age, but just turning his head made him dizzy.

Hmph.

Still, he was determined to function as a normal child would so he began weaving through the rapidly shifting crowd as he had earlier, just with a much louder and more busy crowd.

Suddenly his suit was starting to feel a lot more uncomfortable than before. God- if he could just find someone-

He bumped right into a lady in a bright purple dress. He quickly stuttered an apology before scurrying away as fast as he could, not even waiting for a response.

Seriously- was his suit trying to choke him? He pulled on it desperately, but if anything it just made the pull tighter. Wakko growled to himself as he walked further and further away from whoever that lady was, until he hit the wall.

At least the marble was cool, it was starting to feel like it was a million degrees in here.

Still, it wasn't enough. he still felt hot, and stuffy- was he even breathing anymore?

...Yes, yes he was. Rather fast though- oh dear, was that his heart? oh god- what was happening? Why was the music so loud? Why was his collar so tight? When was the last time he blinked? Where were these "kids" Wakko was supposed to make friends with?

Wait- no, he could see those. A group of them- shit, they were looking at him. Wakko noticed his nail was twitching nervously- he grabbed it and forced it to stop, but the kids laughed.

Wakko ran away again, covering his ears, his face turning red and the knot in his stomach transporting itself to his throat.

"No, no, no, no. Please, not now..." He pleaded with himself, but he didn't listen, and tears started to form. Wakko looked desperately for a quick way out, but still couldn't find any- curse the size of this place.

However, as his eyes darted around anxiously, he spotted something- a table covered in a white cloth that went to the ground. Without hesitation, Wakko went to it, making sure no one saw him before crawling underneath.

Wakko stayed there, covering his ears and rocking back and forth awhile, cursing his stupid brain for making these stupid tears that wouldn't end. He also cursed the stupid music for being too loud and the guests for being so many.

He wanted Mom.

He wanted mom to come and find him and scoop him up and take him to the playroom and sit in the rocking chair and rock him to sleep.

However, she didn't come.

No one did.

He was alone, and these tears weren't making him any calmer. Everything still felt so loud- it wasn't this loud before- he loved mom's coronation. Why was his brain so stupid?!

The young prince continued like that for a while, before someone came and lifted the tablecloth. He tried to make a run for it, but the someone grabbed his arm before he could- Wakko turned to look at their face and-

It was Max.

"S-sorry, I probably shouldn't... grab you," He let go, and Wakko scooted back, though he didn't leave. Max saw this as an invitation and joined him under the table.

"A-are- uh... Are you okay?" Max asked. Wakko looked away and shrugged.

"Right... not much of a talker..." Max recalled. Wakko nodded once, though he instantly regretted it, as it made his head feel weird.

Max tapped his fingers on his knee as he tried to figure something out. Wakko avoided any looks the Disney Prince gave him.

"Do you want some water? I can go get you some water," Max offered. Wakko sniffled and thought about it, before nodding once more (and regretting it once more).

with that, he disappeared, though not for too long.

Wakko noticed he stopped crying.

"Here, take this," Max handed him the glass. Wakko accepted the offering, taking a long drink.

Well, that felt at least a little bit better.

He glanced at Max.

"A-aren't you supposed to be with Yakko?" he asked.

"Dot was practically begging Yakko for a dance and I let him, it's her day after all," Max chuckled.

That made sense.

Wakko looked down at the glass, tapping his finger against it and looking at the water ripple.

"Do you need to step out of the party for a sec?" Max asked.

Wakko shrugged, taking a sip.

"Here- I'll help you find an exit," Max said, getting up and holding the cloth open for Wakko.

He hesitated.

He didn't deserve this- such kindness from the guy he locked in the tower mere weeks ago- it didn't make sense.

Then again, he'd give anything to get out of here.

Wakko listening to his senses and got out.

Carefully he followed Max through the gigantic room until they eventually reached a door, through which both of them slipped out of and into a calm and dark hallway.

Instantly, Wakko felt calmed, taking a deep breath.

"Wanna sit down?" Max asked, gesturing to the couches nearby. Wakko nodded. However, instead of sitting on the couch, he chose to lay on the cool floor, even taking off his gloves so he could feel the marble with his fingers.

Max didn't say anything for a while, not seeming to mind the silence. Which was good- because Wakko didn't feel like breaking it.

After a while though, a thought nagged at his brain.

Why.

Why on earth would Max help him? After everything he did? After everything he jeopardized? It didn't make sense.

Wakko sat up. Max looked at him but didn't say anything.

Wakko sighed.

"Why-?" He paused.

"Why... are you being so nice to me?"

"You were in trouble, I couldn't ignore that," Max shrugged. Wakko frowned, putting his gloves back on.

"I-i... Aren't you mad? At least a little?" He asked.

"It wasn't my first time being locked in a room for hours on end," Max snorted.

"Y-yeah, but I tried to hurt you. And Yakko..." Wakko looked at the ground. "I know how much you mean to him."

Max blinked.

"I- uh... well-" Max struggled with his words a moment.

"I don't... blame you, I guess. It's as new to you as it is to me and with a past and family tree like yours, I guess I don't blame you for lashing out? I dunno," Max shrugged, looking away.

Huh...

"Still... you didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Trust me, I would've helped any kid I found under there, but I'm glad it was you," Max said.

Wakko looked at him, deciding whether or not he believed that. Ultimately, he did.

"You know... Yakko talks a lot about you," Max said, piquing Wakko's interest.

"He worries a lot, but he says you're a really sweet kid, and I believe that," Max smiled a little. "You should be easier on yourself, you're still growing up you know?"

Wakko thought about that.

"I guess," He said. Max snorted.

"You know... you do seem like a pretty cool kid. I'm sorry if you ever felt I was ignoring you, I promise I'll try to make up for it too," He said.

Wakko thought about that too.

"Thanks," He said.

"I really do hope we can grow to like each other. Yakko means a lot to me and you mean a lot to him... you know?" Max blushed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

Wakko nodded, grinning a little.

"So... are we... cool?" Max asked.

Wakko thought about that as well.

"Yeah, we're cool," He said with his signature smile.

"Cool," Max grinned back. "Because I'm pretty sure Yakko might lose it if his dance with Dot ended and he can't find me."

Wakko laughed.

"Will you be alright?" Max asked, standing. Wakko nodded, getting up as well.

"I'm feeling a lot better... though I think I'll look for mum and dad," He said.

"Fair enough," Max nodded once. "Well- uh... see you around, I guess."

"See you around," Wakko laughed at his awkwardness before going back through the doors and back to the party.

Max followed soon thereafter, hoping Yakko wouldn't be too mad or worried at him for his sudden disappearance.

.o0o.

Yakko couldn't believe that a year ago today he thought his parents were dead. It baffled him honestly- he could turn his head and his parents were right there. They were never really dead- it shocked him to remember sometimes.

He also couldn't believe that only a year ago the most celebration they could share for Dot's birthday was a mini cake they had to sneak late at night.

And now look where he was- dancing in the middle of the ballroom with his little sister having the time of his life- despite the fact Dot couldn't stop giggling and he almost dropped her that one time.

However, he had to draw the line after three songs, which Dot understood, and he gave her back to their parents, hoping Max wouldn't be too mad about Dot taking up so much of his time.

"Ah, Max, there you are- sorry for dancing so long, I have a hard time saying no to her," Yakko laughed between pants, scratching the back of his neck.

"You just got done?" Max teased.

"Yeah, she really liked dancing," Yakko shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You look like you could use a breather," Max raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who, me? Whatever would give that idea?" He played back, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"C'mon- let's go to the balcony," Max said, taking his hand.

When they got to the door Yakko paused as he looked back at his family, unsure. However, his parents looked at him, and after giving a fair look of warning, they both gave him a thumbs up and nod of approval, and Yakko went off with his prince.

However, they didn't pick a random one, they went all the way through the halls to the usual one they'd go to when Max visited Warnerstock (the kid had a thing for balconies).

"Ahh, fresh air," Yakko embraced the cool night.

"Yep," Max embraced it too, immediately going and leaning on the rails.

"Are you liking the party?" Yakko asked.

"It's pretty good- though a little crowded, but I always know how to find some space," Max answered.

"I feel that- when my birthday rolls around, I'll make it a lot less crowded. I don't know what Dot had against having it outside, but what are you gonna do?" Yakko shrugged.

"I think Wakko would appreciate a smaller shindig," Max said, looking at the garden.

"What makes you say that?" Yakko decided to take his place next to Max also leaning against the railing.

"Ran into him- he wasn't having the best time so I helped ground him again," Max said like it was no big deal.

It was.

"Grounded him? You- managed to calm him down? Is he okay? What happened?" Yakko asked quickly.

"Woah, woah, it's okay. He's totally fine, just... overwhelmed." Max said.

"Oh... well... I'm glad he's okay," Yakko took a deep breath. "And I'm even more glad you were able to help him- that's huge... really."

He looked at him when he said that last part. Max blushed.

"I would've helped anyone, seriously," He looked away.

"Mhm, sure," Yakko teased.

"I am serious though- it probably means a lot to Wakko- he doesn't accept help easily and to allow you... it means he's starting to like you," Yakko said in all seriousness.

"That's good," Max nodded. "I really do want your family to like me- I just... don't have the best ways of showing it, I suppose."

"Hey, you're doing great so far," Yakko held his hand.

There was a moment before Yakko realized what he was doing and both boys broke the gesture.

"Haha... yeahhhh," Max looked at the wall away from Yakko.

There was a stretch of silence between the two, neither knowing what to do. Sure they knew what they wanted but... things are never as easy as just doing what you want.

"My dad and uncles like you too- if you care about that," Max decided to say.

"That's good," Yakko smiled a little, rubbing his thumb on the railing.

Another pause.

"You know- It's funny to me how when we met you thought I might too cool for you," Max remarked.

"When did I ever say that?" Yakko said.

"You called me cool at least fifty times upon first meeting me," Max play punched his arm.

"As I recall, you called me cool, so who's the real cool one here?" Yakko punched him back and the princes laughed.

"Alright, alright, you got me," Max chuckled. "I was just trying to say you were totally wrong, I don't have a cool bone in my body."

"God- you're so cool you don't even know how cool you are. Typical," Yakko sighed teasingly.

"Hey, didn't I just say you're pretty cool too?" Max accused playfully.

"Oh please, you're way cooler. No trauma and with fluffy, luxurious hair like that? Please," Yakko rolled his eyes.

"Oh puh-lease yourself. Trauma is just a cool backstory and you're home is a lot more fun and a lot less crowded and your family is a lot more cool too," Max pointed his finger at Yakko.

"You're exaggerating," Yakko pointed back.

"Nope- not at all. You're one of my first true friends and that automatically makes you very cool," Max crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah? W-well-" Yakko paused, looking at Max carefully.

A pause.

Max's dark brown eyes shined back at Yakko, reflecting the stars that surrounded them wonderfully. His fluffy and luxurious hair framed his face with perfect ease. His signature smile slowly turned into that of curiosity.

Yakko felt his heart flutter.

"I'm not as cool as you think," Yakko stepped down, looking at the ground.

Coward.

Another pause.

"..."

"Well maybe you are right- maybe I am cooler than you."

"Wha-?"

Before Yakko could finish the sentence, Max grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

"S-see?" Max was internally "fjdkaf;sfj"-ing in his brain. "You've won- I'm a lot cooler."

"Y-yeah," Yakko could barely speak his face was as red as Wakko's hat. "You're... yeah," his face melted into a goofy grin.

"Oh god- I'm sorry- d-did you not mean that..?" Max panicked, quickly becoming embarrassed.

"N-no!" Yakko snapped to life. "I-i... I- uh..."

"I liked it," He managed to say. Max smiled.

"W-... Wanna do it again?" Yakko proposed, and Max nodded, and they shared another kiss.

Yakko knew it was corny to think, but it truly felt just like fireworks in his chest.

He liked Max- Max liked him. A part of himself was realized- and he felt alive. A good kind of alive- not the kind of alive that came from life or death situations.

"So... I guess that makes us even," Max joked. Yakko laughed.

"I guess so," He couldn't get himself to stop smiling- neither could Max. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter again.

"Man, we really should return to the party," Max said.

"Yeah, you're right," Yakko's face was starting to hurt from the smiling.

"Do- uh... do you think your parents will be cool... orrrr...?" Max asked.

"Psh, I'm sure they'll be fine," He said without hesitation.

"Cool," Max said, opening the door out of the balcony.

Yakko looked at him for a moment, trying to absorb the moment as best he could.

"You okay?" Max asked.

"Yep," Yakko said, taking a deep breath as he implanted it in his memory in his brain forever.

"C'mon, let's go before they think we've done something stupid," Yakko said, quickly joining Max and grabbing his hand before running back to join his family.

however, right before entering the party room once more, Yakko paused.

"Does this mean our friendship is basically ruined?" He asked.

Max thought about it.

"I wouldn't think of it as a ruining per se... maybe think of it as an upgrade of sorts," Max winked.

God, he was so much cooler.

"Cool," Yakko grinned, squeezing Max's hand.

"Well... uh- shall we?" Max let go and offered Yakko his arm.

Yakko thought about it.

Taking it would mean no taking it back- it would mean the whole party would basically know that they kissed (holy shit- they kissed! that was a thing that happened!). His parents, his siblings, practically the whole kingdom, and their allies.

Yakko couldn't imagine any other way to walk back in.

He took his arm.

"We shall."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[bouncingkadachi]

Blessed Rain

Summary: A Hunter’s weapon of choice says a lot about them. OR: Kyle upgrades his weaponry and gets caught red-handed in the act. Luckily (?) for him, only Tsukino seems to know exactly why he's having an emotional crisis over this.

Word count: 3,260

Note(s): set post-game

Also available on AO3!

Kyle’s had his new bow for a good couple of weeks before the feel of the limbs and the weight of the draw became comfortable enough for him to consider upgrading it. If he’s going to be injured, he reasons, he’d rather it be purely by way of monster and not because he pulls a muscle wrestling with a bow that hasn’t been properly broken in. His wallet despairs as he forks over the zenny, but this’ll hopefully let him take on some of the bigger hunts like the ones that Reverto goes on. It’ll all be worth the investment up front once he has his completely finished bow and restocked his coatings and finally drops the last of his coin on a couple new talismans.

He refuses to think about the implications of his reasoning with a literal coin, rolling it around and around his fingers as he pushes through the market throngs towards the smithy’s. Perhaps he ought to have a change of scenery—the fog-shrouded summits of Terga were said to be particularly beautiful at this time of year, and the heat in Lamure was becoming just shy of unbearable.

The final product that the blacksmith puts into his hands when he finally makes it to collect is nothing short of gorgeous. Blessed Rain is sleek where his old Rex bow was bulky, far lighter and certainly not as clunky. The upgrades on the riser gives the entire weapon a pleasant solidness in his hand, yet the delicately reinforced plating on the limbs doesn’t retract at all from its flexibility. The decorative grip protector gleams. Just looking at it makes Kyle excited to shoot.

“Bring her back if you’re finding that you need anything adjusted,” the smith tells him after Kyle’s diligently inspected every inch of the bow. “Kept the poundage the same for you, but added another inch to the draw length like you asked.”

“Thanks,” Kyle says. Eventually, he’d like to work up to the point where he can up the poundage again. Even just another five pounds would be good. He can do most of the hunts in his skill range alone now, but extra firepower would make him just that much more efficient, or that much of a better support for team hunts. 

The smith laughs when Kyle sheepishly admits this. “Well, I always like to help a Hunter improve, and you know where to find me,” he says cheerily, clapping Kyle enthusiastically on the shoulder. “Come by again anytime if you need a tune up or want to test out something new.” 

And with that, he waves Kyle away so that another Hunter can step up, holding a tired-looking sword and shield and looking equally exhausted. “Aye, rookie Hunter?” Kyle hears as he wanders off to find a more relaxed corner of the market in which to admire his new bow some more. “If you’ve got the materials I can repair and upgrade that for you.” The conversation peters out and melts into the general din of the marketplace as Kyle slips into the crowd, taking care to step out of the way of a Felyne carrying an absolutely massive basket groaning with produce. He watches the precarious load totter away, trying and failing to locate Tsukino in the brief respite the parted crowd affords him. They’d split earlier that morning and he hasn’t seen her since.

He still hasn’t managed to find even a whisker of Tsukino’s whereabouts by the time he settles into a decently quiet nook next to a stall selling all manner of spices. Pity, because the dappled light spilling through the colorful drapes of the marketplace catches so beautifully on the milky-white sheen of the bow, and he’d been looking forward to showing it to her. As a Hunter, Kyle will always care more about weapon practicality than aesthetics, but as a normal human being he certainly won’t turn down the opportunity to have both an aesthetically pleasing and perfectly functional weapon. He’s still grinning a little when he goes to strap the bow to his back, and it’s in the process of looking up that his gaze catches onto wide eyes staring plainly at him from across the street. 

He freezes, arm suspended awkwardly halfway to sheathing. His beautiful bow glints damningly in the bright Lamure sunlight as his unexpected friend wades through the throngs of people towards him, gesturing for him to stay put with a wave of her hand that really can’t be mistaken for anything other than a greeting.

“Hey,” he says cautiously and lamely when she finally reaches him. Belatedly, he remembers to lower his arm. He is momentarily thankful that she doesn’t try to reach up for his face in the Mahanan greeting, although his goodwill evaporates when she leans in to inspect his bow, body thrumming with unexplainable anticipation.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” she says finally. Kyle can’t help himself from preening just a little, shifting his grip so that she can get a better look. After all, what was the point of spending all that money and materials if there was no one to excitedly show the end product off to? Besides, it’s been a while since they last saw each other. Last he heard, she had been traveling, keen to finally see the world on her own terms and at her own pace.

“It’s fresh off an upgrade,” he answers smugly. “Easier to handle than the Rex.”

“Slightly less intimidating though,” she chimes in, and Kyle bristles, not liking where this conversation is going. And true to form, she goes in for the kill: “Mizutsune? I recognize the plating.”

Kyle can feel the flush crawling up to his ears. Logically, he knows that there’s nothing for him to be embarrassed about. It’s a mark of good smithing that one can tell at a glance which monster a weapon was inspired by, and a Mizutsune was both powerful and extremely iconic. This bow in particular had good stats and the ability to fire rapidly, which admittedly took him some time to get used to after focusing mostly on piercing shots. The paralysis coating that works so well on this bow has also already saved his skin on more than one occasion. There is little more a career Hunter can ask for out of his weapon. It’s not like he’d been heading out to Pomore Garden at any given opportunity and holding onto an increasing multitude of Mizutsune materials just because he wanted some physical reminder of what was probably the most pivotal moment of his life, something that never failed to put a very complicated and jumbled mess of emotions deep within his chest whenever he thought back to it.

He’s starting to feel very, very hot under his collar. The sun is terrible. He resolves that his next big hunt really needs to be somewhere outside of Lamure.

His friend, however, just looks more and more baffled as he launches into an unprompted defense of his newest purchase. Every time she opens her mouth, Kyle talks a little faster. Eventually, she doesn’t even bother trying to interject, which is arguably worse, because instead she just looks progressively more and more thoughtful. Kyle wished desperately for Tsukino to peel away from whatever hidey hole she was tucked in. Then, his train of thought screeches into a rude and abrupt halt.

“What,” he croaks. “What are you doing.”

One of her brows quirks up. “I sure hope your eyes are still working because that’d be a detriment to your job,” she says plainly. “What does it look like I’m doing? I promise it’s not a trick question.”

What she’s doing is holding Kyle’s hand—the one not clutching his new bow—the one that had apparently been waving about with increasing agitation as he jabbered on and on. What Kyle doesn’t understand is why. It’s not like he just did some impressive shot to give them the edge in a battle or anything else that was cool and hand-holding worthy. He’d just been yammering about bow mechanics, and maybe embarrassingly dipping into his talisman hopes and dreams. He stares a little helplessly at his trapped hand. Her kinship stone winks up at him.

“Look,” she says patiently, when it becomes very clear that Kyle is going to need a moment before he can get his brain back online. “There’s nothing wrong with a bow made from Mizutsune parts and I am the last person who will ever turn down pretty things. What I was going to say was that this is an interesting departure from your whole—” She pauses, as though looking for a specific word. “Well, your whole image as a very grown-up and serious and intimidating Hunter or whatever it was you were trying to convey with that scowl you used to like so much. And you weren’t letting me get a single word in.”

“You’re getting plenty of words in now,” Kyle scowls, just to be contrary. “And I’ve grown since then.”

“Someone’s in a mood today.” She smiles, crinkle-eyed, up at him. Kyle very seriously debates wrenching his hand out of her hold like he did the last time this happened and then pointedly doesn’t act on the impulse.

“Why’re you in Lulucion?” he asks instead with a truly remarkable level of self-restraint. “Thought you’d never want to come back again after what happened.”

She shrugs, the greatsword on her back heaving with the movement. “Guess I’ve grown too,” she says loftily, though she sobers quickly. “I was actually visiting my grandfather. He used to go back to Mahana around this time of year… he can’t do it anymore of course but I’ve got Ratha now, so I figured I could do it instead. And then I figured I’d stop by Rutoh before going home, to see Ena and Alwin and wheedle a few more stories out of them.”

She lets go of Kyle’s hand. He tries not to miss it. “Even Ratha can’t make the trip in one go, and Lulucion was closest, so we’re stopping to rest. I dropped by the Scrivener’s Lodge earlier because I was hoping Reverto could give me a few weapon pointers as I’ve saved up just about enough for an upgrade, but they told me that he was out on an urgent mission and wouldn’t be back for a while.”

“Oh,” Kyle says, a little stung that she hadn’t come specifically to see him first, out of all the Hunters in the city. He’s slightly mollified when she grins at him, though.

“And then I met Tsukino by the cannons. She said I could find you here, so here I am.”

“I don’t know anything about greatswords,” Kyle blurts out, and immediately wants to kick himself. She blinks at him, and then bursts into laughter.

“I was just going to ask the smith,” she wheezes when she’s got herself somewhat back under control. “Can’t I see a friend just to say hi to him anymore?” Kyle stares very intently down at some of the finer detailing on his bow.

“Where is my Palico anyway?” he finally settles on, falling into a tried and true grumble. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

She waves her hand vaguely in the air. “Navirou said something about getting donuts. I wasn’t really listening.”

But there was a donut stand right here in the marketplace, Kyle wanted to cry out. He should have seen Tsukino by now if they’d really been going to buy snacks! And how was it possible that he had missed Navirou in his entirety, between the Felyne’s penchant for wearing ridiculous little outfits and his inability to shut up?

“Why? You have a hunt you need to run off to?” 

“Yes,” Kyle says hotly. It’s a lie. He’d accepted a subquest that wouldn’t depart until later that evening for the sole purpose of testing out his new weapon in a relatively stress-free environment. Before that, he’d just planned on hitting up the shooting range in the training arena to break in the new string. His schedule was very, very free. Tsukino was perfectly aware of that.

His eyes widened. Tsukino had been with him on every excursion into the Gardens. She went where he did (usually), and it’s not like Kyle would ever begrudge her a visit home. But she’d been with him every step of every single Mizutsune job he’d ever taken—had watched him craft traps when he needed to capture and had kept watch for opportunists hoping to sneak up as he’d carved. She’d been the one who’d recommended the spinner for all the excess purplefur he was ending up with. At first, he’d simply thought that she’d wanted the thread to mend some of her own items, or to send back home to her brethren, but instead she’d tucked each skein of vibrant, silk-soft thread into the bottom of his pouch with gentle paws, cryptically talking about how strong a material it was, and how nice it looked when woven. Kyle has never touched a loom in his life, but now he’s looking at someone who he definitely knows has.

His stomach drops. Hadn’t Tsukino looked particularly smug ever since he’d lingered on the blueprints for Blessed Rain after getting a look at its stats and required materials?

“She got me,” he groans. His friend just looks at him bemusedly, though perhaps with a touch of wariness at his ferocious frown. Hastily, he tacks on: “It’s nothing. I, uh—I just remembered that I needed to tell Tsukino something. Important. Later, when I find her again.”

“Alright,” she says, though she doesn’t quite look like she believes him. “A quest’s a quest, though, so I won’t keep you here. The bow really is pretty though. I know I just said it doesn’t match your image and all but I really don’t think you can go wrong with something you like. You’ve got the skills for it, anyway.”

“Thanks,” he croaks, feeling a little overwhelmed. He manages two whole steps out of the nook before he pauses, worrying at his lower lip. “Actually,” he says sharply, spinning around on his heel and nearly causing his friend to startle right into a spice display. “How long are you staying for?”

“However long it’ll take to upgrade my sword, I guess,” she says after she collects herself, the words lilting into a question. “Three days or so, I guess?” She skirts nervously away from the glaring vendor, careful not to overbalance on her greatsword.

“Cool,” Kyle says with a nod, steeling himself. “Great, even. Look, how about this. Your last visit to Lulucion was terrible—” an understatement, “—so when I get back from my hunt I’ll show you some of the better sights Lulucion has to offer. There’s a hole in the wall that I think you’ll like. Dad used to take me after hunts—they grill really nice queen shrimp. And the parapets—you can climb them, and they’ve got all these little carvings in the stone that you can search for like a scavenger hunt.” He’s keenly aware that he’s rambling again, but she looks interested, so he barrels on. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow just as soon as I can get a nap in. We can stay in the city or take Ratha out to the Barrens, down by the water. Just make a day of it.” He’s pretty certain that he looks at her with something akin to hope as she considers. It feels like a lifetime before she finally comes to a decision. 

“I want to take Ratha out in the evening,” she says finally. “I don’t want him to be cooped up too long here ever again.”

“Yeah,” Kyle breathes out, the word rushing out of him in a flood of relief. “Yeah, I can work around that.” She beams at him.

“I’ll look forward to it,” she says, sincere and looking more than a little surprised despite herself at the prospect of looking forward to doing anything in Lulucion. “I’m staying at the inn closest to the stables. Pretty sure I’m the only Rider there currently so they’ll know who I am.” Kyle nods, and lets himself get his hand squeezed again, though not without her hands first hovering in an instinctual bid for his cheeks before she remembers herself.

“Good luck on your hunt. If I see Tsukino I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

“She’ll show up in due time,” he mutters darkly. “I’ll let you know if Reverto gets back early or if he’s just been loafing around this entire time. For your next upgrade or whatever.” She laughs, bright, and then slips off into the crowd to wrestle her way into the smithy’s queue. Kyle is left staring in her wake before his gaze is drawn back down to his bow.

“This is all your fault,” he tells it. Predictably, it doesn’t answer. Also predictably, Tsukino takes that exact moment to drop down from seemingly nowhere. 

“I didn’t know we had another job lined up,” the Felyne says delicately, carefully brushing crumbs off of her coat. Kyle groans, sheathing his weapon.

“Don’t tease me,” he huffs. “I’m going to the shooting range. Are you coming?”

“Hmm,” says Tsukino. “I suppose I can spare the time.”

“Of course you can spare the time!” Kyle hisses, indignant. “You just spent the day eating donuts and eavesdropping!” He pointedly doesn’t look towards the smithy, where his friend was patiently browsing the display while another Hunter was getting their hammer looked at.

“One must always be prepared with the latest intel,” Tsukino says mildly. “I’m glad the upgrade went well.” 

“It’s got good stats,” Kyle protests weakly in what is quickly becoming a tired argument. “The rapid shots have been going very well. And I had a surplus of Mizutsune parts.”

 “Yes,” his hunting partner agrees readily enough. “Have you thought of what you’re going to do with the thread?”

“This conversation is finished,” Kyle says abruptly, making a very determined push towards the market’s exit. “Either come or don’t, so long as we meet at the gate for tonight’s hunt.”

Tsukino looks at him with exasperated fondness, which is frankly a little insulting, but readily falls into step next to him. Kyle wonders how many rounds he’s going to have to shoot in order to clear his head again and rid it of thoughts of Hazepetal Garden or Mizutsune or high-grade thread that he’ll never use himself. He’ll examine them again someday—because he’s not a coward—but that day is most certainly not today.

He does his rounds in the training arena and marvels at the way the string slides off his fingers with a satisfying twang, even though it’ll still be a good few days before it’s fully broken in to his liking. Tsukino’s saved him a donut, the cakey sweet sticky with honey and practically melting in his mouth. He’s got some free time even after stocking up for the evening hunt, so he takes a few minutes to browse the quest board, taking careful note of the jobs that were situated near the Harzgai Rocky Hill, or the ones from further afield in Alcala that’ll take him closer to Rutoh. And when he leaves the city, he pointedly doesn’t look up at the familiar shape circling in the dusky sky, even as he knows that they’ll surely see the last rays of the setting sun winking off of the plates of his bow like a beacon.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (18)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: suggestive themes, lots of teasing & domestic fluff 🥺

words: 7.1k

   chapter eighteen

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing that you felt wasn’t the disruptive rays of sun on your face – you’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night – but soft, almost feather-light touches of fingertips on your collarbones. And, even though you had never woken up next to anyone like this before, you didn’t flinch or pull away.

Instead, you opened your eyes and immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Jungkook was laying on the bed next to you, his eyes still hazy with sleep and his lips parted in concentration as he drew patterns on the edges of your skin.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice quiet. You weren’t sure if you were truly awake yet, or if this was one of the overly realistic dreams that you’d had before.

Jungkook looked at you, surprised to hear you speak – he hoped not to wake you – but relieved when he saw the soft smile on your face.

“Trying to make sure you’re really here,” he answered, his morning voice breathy and raspy, and enough to make your stomach clench and your smile spread in admiration, despite the corny words.

You closed your eyes again. “Did you practice that line?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, shameless. “How’d I do?”

You hummed in content. “The delivery was nice. But it’s all very cliché. I’d say a six out of ten.”

He chuckled lazily, pulling his hands away and prompting you to look up at him again, in a way a dog would look at the person who’d stopped scratching its’ head – disappointed and outraged by the audacity.

“I’ll do better next time,” Jungkook promised, almost naturally reaching for you again – this time, to brush an unruly strand of your hair away from your face.

“Next time?” you asked, not trying to insinuate anything other than your intention to find out his plans for the immediate future.

He read too much into it, however. He cocked an eyebrow as he lifted himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t like that voice,” he said. “You’re about to tell me I was just a one-night-stand for you, aren’t you?”

You laughed, turning on your back but still watching him. “I’ve known you for twenty-three years.”

“Not like that, you didn’t.”

You looked away, your face warm. The smile on your lips was relentless, however – it gave no opportunity for you to pretend like the stressful night last night, and the way it ended, wasn’t a pleasant visitor in your memory.

“What do you want to do today?” Jungkook asked, feeling his arms go numb from supporting all of his weight, but not caring about it too much because, this way, he could see you better.

“Not a thing,” you told him, completely serious. “I want to stay in bed.”

“Alright,” he said, laying back down next to you as he decided firmly, “that’s what we’re doing then.”

You turned your head to face him. “Your bandmates will kill you.”

“That’s only if I go home,” he said, not seeming the slightest bit fazed about his impending doom. “If I don’t, then I’m safe.”

His indifference got you to smile; the relationship dynamics between Jungkook and his bandmates resembled a sibling connection far more than just a friendship. Still, he needed to do right by them.

“You can’t avoid them for the rest of your life,” you said.

“You underestimate me,” he shot back, very proud of himself.

“Jungkook,” you countered seriously.

“Well, I won’t really avoid them for the rest of my life,” he defended, “but maybe for the rest of the weekend.”

“Jungkook—”

“I liked the sound of my name on your lips a lot more last night,” he pointed out, deliberately distracting you.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he could physically see the bolt of electricity that his words sent right into your stomach. He couldn’t get used to witnessing how the effect he had on you manifested on your face.

“Hmm,” you resisted the pull of his eyes. “Did you rehearse that, too?”

“No,” he replied, leaning in closer, “believe it or not, a lot of this charm comes naturally to me.”

“Must’ve had a lot of practice, then,” you spoke, your voice so quiet, it was barely above a whisper, as his face lingered a few millimetres away from yours.

“Or a lot of daydreams,” he said, “and night dreams. And evening dreams. And morning—”

You ended up having to be the one who kissed him – to shut him up before you admitted that his cheesy pick-up lines made your traitor heart flutter; but it wasn’t so much the lines, as it was the undisguised fondness in his eyes, really. Smiling into the kiss, Jungkook was quick to take over by touching your cheek with his hand lightly, and shifting your face into his so he could deepen the kiss.

You pulled away with a half-hearted whine, your lips smacking as you broke the kiss. “It’s too early. I haven’t showered or even brushed my teeth yet.”

Jungkook looked absurdly offended. “You kissed me!”

“To get you to shut up,” you clarified.

“Oh, so the sound of my voice annoys you?” he jabbed, “very well. Let’s go.”

He rolled away from you and sat up in bed.

You watched him, confused and somewhat disappointed that his plans, clearly, did not include staying in bed the whole day, after all. “Go where? Where are you—”

Jungkook stood up and pulled you by your hands until you were sitting up. You refused to stand until he answered you and he clicked his tongue at your resistance.

“We,” he said, emphasizing the plural word as he gave you one more pull, forcing you to climb off the bed, “are going to take a shower.”

It already felt unusual – and uncomfortable now that it was daytime – to stand around in your room next to Jungkook, dressed in virtually nothing because you hadn’t bothered to find your respective clothes last night: he gave up after he untangled his boxers from his jeans, and you settled for his shirt. Now that he’d mentioned a shared shower, you started to feel even more self-conscious.

“We are—no, what are you saying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively as Jungkook realized he regretted tossing you his shirt last night – he didn’t want it back now, not unless you were in it.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand and heading for the door of your dorm.

You stayed put. “Together?”

“You’re not very sharp in the mornings, are you?” he teased and then smirked before you could punch him. “I like that. Yes. Together.”

He kept going – or, rather, tried to keep going because you still weren’t moving – and when he turned to look at you, exasperation was clear in his eyes.

“Jungkook, the showers here are communal,” you told him.

“Even better!” he replied. Not even an earthquake would have changed his mind.

“How is that better?” you frowned.

“I don’t mind an audience.”

You punched his shoulder. “I mind!”

Laughing, Jungkook let go of one of your hands and rubbed his shoulder.

“Well, it’s seven in the morning right now,” he said, not checking the time on his phone again – he’d done that as soon as he woke up, and he decided to abandon the device for the rest of the day. “I’m sure everyone’s still asleep.”

“Seven,” you repeated, all oxygen leaving your lungs until you felt like a deflated balloon. “Oh, God. No wonder I feel so tired. Why were you awake this early?”

“Why would I waste my time sleeping when I’m with you?” Jungkook asked with a face so straight, you’d have really believed all of this came to him naturally. “Now come on, let’s go.”

And you went with him – mostly because he refused to let you refuse, but also because your refusal wasn’t entirely genuine – almost forgetting to grab the towels and the soap on your way out of the door.

You were beyond surprised to learn that the sight of a boy, taking a confident stroll down the hallway, dressed in his boxers and nothing else, didn’t make you cringe and look away at all. If anything, the dorm doors and the people living behind them was what seemed out of place here, because Jungkook – guiding you towards the communal showers – looked like he was right in his element.

“You ever worry your cockiness is going to get you in trouble?” you asked when Jungkook pulled the door open. You exhaled in relief at the sight of the empty shower stalls all around you.

“No,” he answered, smiling. “You do the worrying for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You give me too much credit. I’m clearly letting you do whatever you want at this point.”

“Oh, so, does that permission include doing whatever I want to you?” he was grinning as he pulled you into the closest stall and pressed you against the tiled wall, forgetting the curtains or anyone who may have walked in at any moment.

“Maybe not while we’re in public,” you replied, managing to push him off of you – and ignoring his disappointed pout, “it’s highly unhygienic.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he countered while you busied yourself with the shower curtain which had one of its’ plastic hoops stuck on the rod and wasn’t moving.

“Well, then, don’t look so sad,” you said, giving him a look over your shoulder – immediately, he smirked at your tone – and tugging the shower curtain harder until it finally slid down the rod and separated the two of you from the rest of the room. “You should have been prepared for this.”

“You’re the one who has to be prepared for everything,” he pointed out. “I just go with the flow.”

“That’s not always a good thing,” you countered, crossing your arms. “As I’m sure you know by now—”

Not waiting until you finished lecturing him, Jungkook settled for the most childish way to change the topic and turned the shower on. You gasped in surprise when the cold water splashed you, soaking the front of your – his – shirt completely.

“Jungkook!” you scolded, jumping away from the direct stream of water while he, predictably, laughed.

“What?” he asked, all sugar and spice and everything nice. “We’re in the shower.”  

Then, to further prove his point that he hadn’t done anything wrong by getting you wet, even if you were still in your clothes, he turned the shower head towards himself and brought his hands through his hair until he was completely soaked.

You were frozen for a minute – which was exactly what he’d intended – watching Jungkook act out a shampoo commercial right in front of you.

“It’s not showering if you’re wearing all of your clothes,” you muttered under your breath finally, once you painfully tore your eyes away from the droplets of water that traced every crevice of his skin; a cascading waterfall that framed his half-naked body.

“Ah, so you want me to undress!” he translated excitedly and awarded you with a wink that could have made the devil himself flustered. “Should have said so from the beginning.”

“I wasn’t—”

Leaning down under the running water to take his boxers off, Jungkook promised, “your wish is my command.”

After a whole lot of giggling and slipping, and very little actual, legitimate scrubbing and cleaning, you and Jungkook walked out of the shower hand-in-hand, with smiles on your faces. 

The sight of the pure joy in both of your eyes as you crossed the hallway back towards your dorm room, left little to the imagination, but you did not run into anyone, so, for all you knew, no one, aside from the two of you, was aware of what had happened in the shower this morning.

In fact, you loved the idea that you and Jungkook were the only people here – there wasn’t a single passerby, a single (un)bothered observer, or anyone else who could have otherwise interrupted you two. It was just you and him. Finally, you-and-him.

“I’ve never lived in a dorm,” Jungkook said once you were back in your room as he used a separate towel to tousle his hair, splashing water around like a shaggy dog. “But I really enjoy the showers here.”

“You got to experience them at a good time,” you replied. “It’s a lot less fun when there are people in every stall.”

“Hmm, I bet. And less fun without me, too, yeah?”

You gave him a look as you unwrapped your hair from the towel on top of your head. “You’re too full of yourself.”

“Me?” Jungkook feigned innocence. His angelic smile was a clear indication that some inane entity had possessed him today and he was absolutely not going to quit teasing you anytime soon. “I’m the most underrated—”

You interrupted, “self-absorbed, arrogant, inconsiderate—”

“—person there is. Hold on now,” he took a threatening step towards you, raising his eyebrows, “did you just call me inconsiderate?”

“Well, you rarely think about other people’s feelings when you do something,” you retaliated and Jungkook – who enjoyed the proud smirk on your lips, but only because he couldn’t wait to wipe it off with a kiss – pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“You mistake my intentions,” he said. “I always think about—”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, cutting him off mid-excuse. You turned around in the direction of the sound, breaking eye contact, and Jungkook groaned in disappointment.

“Now who,” he demanded, “is bold enough to ruin my monologue about how caring and selfless I am?”

You scoffed, side-eyeing him before you reached for your phone and, much to your surprise, saw a text from Namjoon – who was wondering if you’d found Jungkook last night and if he was alright.

“If it’s Yoongi, tell him that yes, I’m avoiding him, and no, I’m not coming home today,” Jungkook said after noticing the way you bit your lip once you read the text.

“It’s not Yoongi. But you should probably call him,” you said absentmindedly as you tried to compose a text message that involved the right amount of gratitude for Namjoon’s help last night, but also just enough cold politeness, so that Jungkook wouldn’t have any reason to cause a scene. He already had a wary expression on his face after you said it wasn’t his bandmate who’d texted you.

Then, you stopped typing and raised your head to look at the boy, sitting on the bed across from you. “Wait. What do you mean you’re not coming home?”

He shrugged, lying down on your bed. “I’m staying here.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Did we agree on that?”

“Yes,” he replied, “with our bodies.”

You grimaced. “I’m not sure—”

“Oh, you can’t kick me out,” he said – ordered, really – as he patted the bed next to him waiting for you to sit. You did. He continued, “we’ve got so many things we still need to do. All of those movies we haven’t gotten to watch because we keep doing something else when we’re together,” pausing for a moment, Jungkook snickered, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing something else again—did you just laugh at me?”

You bit your tongue, trying to conceal your smile, but the playful mood Jungkook was in amused you too much.

“I just exhaled,” you replied, returning your attention to your phone as you pressed send. “Now, what were you saying about—”

“Who was that?” he asked with a nod at your phone now that you’d finished typing.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, not because you hadn’t heard him, but because something about the way your heart skipped a beat at his question told you that he wasn’t going to like your answer, and you needed to win some time to find a way to soften the blow. “Just Namjoon. He was worried about you.”

Jungkook scoffed but, thankfully, didn’t immediately throw a tantrum.

“Doubt that,” he said instead, with dripping skepticism. “We don’t know each other, why would he care—”

“You went off-the-grid last night,” you said, aware that the patient voice you tried to demonstrate may have come off as accusing. That wasn’t your intention but, now that the conversation came up, you thought it was fair he knew that his actions affected more people than just you and him. “It doesn’t matter if he knows you or not. You could have been dead in a ditch.”

“Is that what Yoongi suggested?” Jungkook inquired in a disgruntled tone.

“No,” you said even though it sort of was. “But we were all concerned for you. Namjoon included.”

He rolled his eyes – partially because he didn’t like to be reminded of the hassle he’d caused last night, but also because he had a hard time believing that people who didn’t know him were genuinely worried about his safety, when his own friends, aside from his bandmates, couldn’t have cared less.

“I know you want to see the best in people, but—”

“I’m not seeing the best in him,” you disagreed, “in fact, we got into an argument at the barbecue yesterday and I realized that there’s more to him than I’d previously thought. But when I told him about you, he was really concerned. He’s the one who drove me back to campus to look for you.”

Digesting this new information for a moment, Jungkook swallowed.

Then, when you thought you were going to have to explain your decision to accept Namjoon’s offer to drive you home, Jungkook dismissed the whole thing.

“So,” he said, “Namjoon isn’t who you thought he was, then?”

“He—that’s not what I meant,” you replied, surprised by the direction the conversation had taken, but suspicious when you saw Jungkook smile victoriously.

“No, I’m curious,” he encouraged, sitting up and scooting closer to you – so close, in fact, that you could see the glistening drops of water that he hadn’t wiped off from his chest, “has he let you down? Are you thinking you shouldn’t be friends anymore?”

Before you could be any more distracted – if not by his words, then by his glimmering skin or by his sneaky, yet lovable, smile – you cleared your throat and looked away.

“You need to call Yoongi,” you said, standing your ground, “or else you’ll be the one who won’t have any friends.”

“Eh, knowing me, that’s inevitable,” he waved a hand, dismissing the thought. “I just want to have you.”

Little needle stabs poked at your stomach after he said this. You blinked, preparing to answer, only to realize that his quick wit had momentarily rendered you completely speechless. Jungkook used that to his advantage.

“I’m thinking breakfast,” he said, changing the topic so quickly, it was like he had the attention span of a squirrel. “Do you have any food here?”

Deeply impressed with his determination to slither out of this situation unharmed – because Yoongi sure was going to rip him a new one – you stuttered, “n-no, wait. I mean, we have milk and—”

“That’s what I thought,” he replied, nodding to himself. Then, he stood up from the bed and ordered, “get dressed. We’re going grocery shopping.”

“Grocery—is that necessary?” you crossed your arms, watching Jungkook pace the room and, most likely, regret his decision to spray his own T-shirt with water because he did not have anything else to wear. “I always have cereal for breakfast.”

“It’s not just cereal we need to think of,” he pointed out, choosing to just settle for that T-shirt. It was supposed to be warm outside anyway. “We have to stock up on food so we wouldn’t have to leave this room for the rest of the day.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You were serious about that?”

“I’m serious about everything,” he retorted and then, untying the towel on his waist in order to put his jeans on, he nodded at you and urged, “come on.”

Not moving one bit, you declared, “call Yoongi first.”

“I’ll call him later.”

“Call him now,” you insisted. “He’s been worried sick since last night.”

“He’s probably still hungover, I’ll call him later—”

“Jungkook,” you said, your voice firm. You didn’t want to enter another conflict with him but, now that you two were obviously going to be spending a lot of time together, it was important for you both that Jungkook actually took responsibility for the things that he did. “He didn’t sound drunk at all when he called me last night. Call him.”

As stubborn as he’d ever been, Jungkook shrugged – and then nearly toppled over as he lost his balance while pulling his jeans up his legs – and said very casually, “then maybe he was high and you couldn’t tell over the phone.”

You could have laughed at this.

“Oh, no, trust me. I’ve talked to a high Yoongi once before,” you said. “I can tell.”

He had several other arguments up his sleeve – excuses were his specialty – but you looked determined to shoot down every single one of them and, at the end of the day, Jungkook didn’t want to spend the rest of the day arguing with you about this.

“Fine,” he gave in. “Give me five minutes and a soundproof room.”

You knew this wasn’t a compromise – Jungkook didn’t look like he’d changed his mind and suddenly understood that he had to do this; he looked like he was only doing this as a favor to you – but it was still something, so you crawled down the bed towards where he’d left his phone last night, and handed it to him.

“He’s not going to yell—okay, he probably is,” you admitted, “but you deserve it. Go talk to him in the hall, though. I’ll get dressed.”

This intrigued Jungkook and he took one last chance to stall, “ooh, can I watch?”

“No,” you answered and got off the bed, watching him buckle his belt. “You focus on your redemption.”

“My redemption,” he repeated, mocking the pretentious word and still refusing to move.

Ignoring that, you pushed him out of your dorm and into the hallway and, waiting for a second to make sure he really was dialing Yoongi’s phone number – “I’m doing it, alright? But if you’d rather I helped you get dressed—” – you shut the door and returned to your room to find some clothes.

When Jungkook returned several minutes later, he looked more solemn than when he’d left, but the glint in his eyes wasn’t too far gone.

“Did he give it to you good?” you asked, as you rolled up the sleeves of your cardigan.

“Actually, I think he was holding himself back a little,” Jungkook replied, scratching his right ear to indicate just how much yelling he’d had to endure out in the hall. Then, inhaling and seemingly dropping everything he’d just heard, he asked, “so, you ready to go? I was thinking it’d be nice to have some eggs.”

You spent the rest of Saturday in your dorm room, being about as unproductive as it was possible for two people to be. You got through two movies (you’d tried to watch five; Jungkook had no patience to sit through the rest) and finished a full bag of popcorn (you’d opened three; the rest of it ended up on the floor of your room as you played a very unsuccessful game of throw-and-catch and then, consequently, throw-and-try-to-hit).

You lost count of how many tears of laughter you’d shed. Or how many times you’d punched his shoulder. Or how many times he cut you off with a kiss when you gave more attention to the movie than to him.

“You’re like a retriever,” you told Jungkook that night, when the two of you were laying on your backs, side-to-side, your hands and hearts intertwined. “You’re hyper-active, unpredictable, and you need constant attention.”

“Also self-absorbed, arrogant, and inconsiderate,” he added, mentioning all the colorful adjectives you’d called him over the course of this one day.

You exhaled in a half-snort, trying to pull your hand out of his, but failing when he refused to let go, pulling on your hand until you turned to your side to face him instead.

“Is there anything good about me?” he asked you.

You squinted. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

Jungkook smiled, shaking his head. “No. I’m just asking. Because if there’s not, then why do you put up with me?”

“Because you’re trying,” you offered, “because you never give up. You work hard, you’re dedicated and determined. You’ve always got your eyes on the prize—”

He cut you off, “that sounds like the opposite of all the negative things you’d said about me.”

You didn’t see the problem there and you shrugged your shoulders.

“There are two sides to every coin,” you said, unsure if he expected you to shower him in compliments at all times, regardless if he deserved them or not. Actually, knowing Jungkook, that was probably precisely what he expected.

“You didn’t call me funny,” he pointed out then.

“Because you’re not,” you dead-panned.

Jungkook scoffed and looked away from you, declaring with great dignity, “I happen to think I have a great sense of humor.”

“You happen to think a lot,” you mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You snickered. “Here’s another one – you can always turn a negative situation into something better.”

Jungkook lowered his eyes to your intertwined hands, the smile on his face growing fainter, even if the atmosphere in the room remained as laid-back as before.

“Not always,” he said in a hushed tone, not daring to pose the risk of ruining the good-natured banter.

Even though he was careful, it was still obvious that you’ve hit a sensitive spot. Not having any intention to do so, you’ve brought back the fact that, in all twenty-three years of his life, Jungkook hadn’t managed to turn the negative opinion of his father into something better.

“But you always try,” you said, less confident now that you saw how easy it was to trigger something that was too big to fix with just a compliment.

“That’s not enough sometimes,” he said, purposefully avoiding sad undertones and, this way, making himself sound even sadder.

“And other times,” you argued, just as persistent as he was, “it’s more than enough. Stop painting everything in black and white, you always do that.”

Noticing that this was turning into a fight that neither of you would win, Jungkook looked at you with a half-smile on his face. “I thought I always turned the negative situations into positive.”

“You don’t do that when it comes to you,” you replied. “Your biggest flaw is being too hard on yourself.”

In the time that he’s been a member of Parental Advisory – and even before, when he was just an heir of a multi-millionaire – Jungkook had had nearly every single one of his flaws pointed out: none of them were new, he was already aware of them all.

He worked on some of them – the ones that he thought would genuinely help him improve: practicing new singing techniques, making sure his band was his first priority, learning how to communicate with his audiences and how to write lyrics that held more impact.

He’d never had anyone tell him that he tried too hard. And he’d never realized that that was true this quickly, either.

Jungkook didn’t consider himself to be someone who wanted to accommodate others. He never followed the societal standards if they contrasted with his wishes. He didn’t care about what other people thought of him; as it turned out, he worried about his own perception of himself instead.

“Maybe it helps me improve,” he said, not feeling like he deserved the credit for this particular flaw when he hadn’t succeeded in changing himself for the better yet.

“Maybe,” you agreed, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “But give yourself a break sometimes. You’re really not all bad.”

“I needed you.”

You were teasing him and expected him to bite back in an equal way, but the serious tone of his voice took you by surprise. “What?”

“I needed you,” he repeated, “to be able to turn the negative into positive. You’re my better half.”

Despite the beating of your heart and the warmth that spread to your face and forced you to smile, you still shook your head.

“I’m not,” you said, meaning it, “you’re a full person. Not just a half.”

You thought he’d let go of you so he could protest and insist that he was right, but he did no such thing. Instead, he held you tighter and, for a moment or two, being pressed so tightly against each other really did make you feel as though you were two individual parts of the same set – good on your own, but great when paired together.

Jungkook didn’t let go of you the whole Saturday night or the next morning, or the afternoon. That made your normal, everyday functions very complicated – like brushing your teeth, when he was hugging you from behind and purposefully snoozing with his head on your shoulder – but you’d have been out of your mind to complain.

When you arrived to his parents’ house for your Sunday night dinner, Jungkook still had one arm around your waist, as if touching you came naturally to him and he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

As soon as his mother opened the door for you two, she could tell that there was something different about you – maybe it was the fresh glow of having spent the whole weekend locked up together, or maybe she could read your minds – but the wide smiles on your faces were too beautiful of a sight for her to question it.

“Come in,” she encouraged, “it’s lovely to see you, like always.”

“Ah, you’re here already!” Jungkook’s father climbed down the stairs just as you two passed the threshold into the house. Feeling the way Jungkook tensed – his usual reaction – you tried to make up for it by smiling widely.

“Hello,” you said, suddenly feeling ridiculous to be grinning like this for no reason.

“Son,” his father said, acknowledging Jungkook’s presence with a nod and earning one from him in return. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

You didn’t realize his question was directed at you so, for a moment, the four of you lingered awkwardly in the hallway while you waited for Jungkook to answer before you realized that, for one, Jungkook’s father had never called his son “dear”, and, furthermore, it was you who had supposedly gotten sick in the middle of the company barbecue this Friday.

“Oh!” you blinked, trying to remember if Namjoon mentioned what sort of illness he was going to give as your excuse. “Yes, thank you. I’ve gotten some rest and I-I’m much better now.”

“That’s good!” Jungkook’s mother said. Nor her, nor her husband seemed suspicious even though Jungkook inhaled sharply, attracting their attention. “We were very worried when you left early – if you’d stayed just a second longer, we could have driven you home ourselves, we were going to go back anyway.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” you replied, aware that Jungkook didn’t know about this part of your Friday night – he hadn’t asked if you’d left the barbecue early – and, evidently, learning of this right here, right now, didn’t exactly please him. “My friend from university was there and he was kind enough to offer me a ride back to campus.”

Jungkook’s father cleared his throat – an involuntary reaction, similar to that of his son’s before – and gave you a kind, almost apologetic look, “if Jungkook had gone with you, he could have been the one who drove you home.”

That offended you as much as it offended Jungkook – but for different reasons. Jungkook’s dignity was obviously hurt because he had, once again, let his father down. But you were displeased because his father made it sound as though you needed a chaperone. As though you were some damsel in distress.

“No, really, I’m glad he didn’t go. I wouldn’t have wanted him to leave early,” you ended up saying, your polite nature persevering. You could understand Namjoon a lot more now – it was easy to let your real feelings slip if you weren’t paying attention to what you were saying, but hiding them under a mask of good manners and respect, was far more beneficial in the long run. “And, actually, it was even better that he was back on campus, because he helped me out a lot this weekend. Really, I probably wouldn’t have recovered as quickly as I did if it weren’t for him.”

You weren’t just saying that to make Jungkook look better – but there was still gratitude in his eyes when you met his gaze – because he had truly turned your weekend into a time of healing just by spending it with you.

“That’s wonderful,” Jungkook’s mother was the one who responded – Jungkook’s father just smiled mysteriously – as she brought a hand through her son’s hair in adoration, “let’s head to the dining room now, alright? The food is getting cold. You can tell me how your semester’s going. I assume you’ve got finals coming up soon, isn’t that right?”

That was right – well, sort of; you still had about a month of classes left – and it prompted you to start a conversation about school, which allowed Jungkook to casually bring up the fact that he’d knocked his professors off their feet by passing all the tests that they had predicted he would fail. His father, of course, did not express his surprise or say anything encouraging, but he gave a very impressed nod and that was more than enough.

The dinner only seemed to last a few minutes – it flew by like it always did – and you found yourself in your already usual position: offering Jungkook’s mother to clean up, while she forbade you from doing anything and insisted you stayed back and relaxed.

Relaxing was what you and Jungkook had done here last Sunday – before his mother knocked on the door of his bedroom and interrupted you two – so, not very excited to have history repeat itself, you didn’t mind when Jungkook made an excuse to leave early today.

His mother seemed sad to hear that – dessert was just as important part of dinner as the actual main course – but she didn’t push you to stay. Maybe because she could see the look in Jungkook’s eyes and she knew him well enough to understand that, although he had a sweet tooth, her son would have gladly rejected dessert just to get to spend more time alone with you.

However, alone time wasn’t the reason why Jungkook wanted to leave early – you learned that as soon as you sat down in his car and saw his hand lingering by the ignition, not ready to put the key in just yet.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively, already trying to analyze the dinner in your mind, hoping to come across a moment that could have stuck with him.

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said finally, “that you had to leave early. I’d assumed the barbecue ended and that was why you got back to the dorm.”

You lowered your eyes, realizing that your failed attempt to get to the bottom of things on Friday night – it was generous to even call it an attempt, considering that you were ripping each other’s clothes off within twenty minutes of seeing each other – had now caught up to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I got Yoongi’s call in the middle of dinner, and told him I’d go back to campus to look for you. He told me you went missing, I wasn’t going to sit around eating grilled sausages and wait for you to turn up.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jungkook was trying to talk to you about – he’d already put the pieces together – and, taking a moment to admit to himself that he did feel guilty about this, he exhaled before speaking again.

“You could have told my dad the truth,” he said. “Or you could have left without bothering with an excuse, he would have probably assumed it was my fault, anyway.”

“I’m not stupid,” you replied, “you’re trying to make progress with your father. You may not be doing very well, but why would I halt your process? I’m on your side, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember. I’m just saying, y-you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to stand up for me tonight, either.”

“Technically, I did,” you replied, smiling now. “We started to go to these Sunday night dinners for a reason.”

For a good minute, Jungkook really struggled to follow your train of thought. Even though it couldn’t have been more than a month, these dinners with you had already become a part of his routine, so the fact that you were, theoretically, only here to prove Jungkook’s maturity to his father, seemed very obsolete now.

“Well,” Jungkook said, considering your new situation. Chuckling lightly, he added, “that’s stupid now, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Pretending to be dating when we actually are.”

Catching the perfect opening, you teased, “we are?”

He gave you a look that dared you to test him.

“We haven’t been on one date,” you defended – sensibly so, really.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, wanting to point out the flaws in your words, but having a hard time finding any, because, in the normal sense of the word, you hadn’t actually gone on any dates with him.

“We went to my party last weekend,” he still tried, figuring that the term ‘date’, when used loosely, could really mean just two people hanging out together.

You scrunched your nose, enjoying this game. “Was that a date?”

“We spent the whole weekend together,” he tried again.

“Was that a—?”

“You are my girlfriend,” Jungkook cut you off finally, his voice forceful and determined. “And you have no say in that matter.”

He looked you right in the eyes as he said this – boldly challenging your undeniable authority over this moment in the car – and you tried not to, but still ended up laughing.

“You’re taking away my freedom of choice,” you said.

“Are you saying,” he asked in a teary tone because his go-to maneuver in cases like this, was extracting pity, “you don’t want to be with me?”

“I’m not,” you replied, resisting him with surprising ease. You’d taken a page from his book and you were almost gloating as you watched how flustered he became with every word that you said, “I’m just wondering why you can’t ask me out like a normal person. Like someone who hadn’t known me for years.”

He observed your face for a second, making sure that you were serious – you were – and then sighed so deeply, it was like he was hoping to cleanse his dignity of whatever damage your words had done to it.

“You like me like this, don’t you?” he asked, aware that you had turned the tables on him.

“Like what?” you were still grinning. You absolutely liked him like this. “Do you think you’re too good to ask someone to be your girlfriend? Is that beneath you somehow or—”

“I love you,” he said sternly, cutting you off so quickly and successfully that your throat dried up as soon as he said this. “Please be my girlfriend.”

Biting the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from smiling at the juxtaposition of his pink cheeks and his determined eyes – while also, cringing at the cliché words that you’d forced him to say – you nodded and did not say anything else.

“What, that’s all I get?” Jungkook widened his eyes, scoffing in disbelief. “I ask you to—and you nod your head?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you replied, “I’ll think about it.”

Completely flummoxed, Jungkook examined your features without blinking or breathing. You really did have him right where you wanted him. If someone had told him that the reason why you stopped being friends once upon a time, was because he had too much influence over you, he wouldn’t have believed them.

“Enjoy this while you can,” he said a minute later, shaking his head and putting the key in ignition before finally starting the car. “You have endless weekends like this ahead of you, try to keep me on my toes.”

This didn’t put out your fire as you continued, “is that a challenge?”

“That,” he said, his voice more promising than threatening, “is a warning.”

You laughed before relenting just because you didn’t think it was fair to have his confession linger in the air like that, “I love you, too, Jungkook.”

He rolled his eyes, backing out of the street where he’d parked his car. “Oh, now you say that.”

“Better late than never,” you pointed out in a laid-back tone.

“Better all the time than late,” he retorted.

“You’re needy,” you said.

Jungkook didn’t skip a beat as he drove down the street back towards your campus, and still found enough time to glance at you, “you’re uncooperative.”

“You’re prideful,” you shot back.

“You’re controlling.”

“You’re reckless.”

“I love you,” he challenged.

“I love you more,” you fought back.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow at this. “Don’t go there. I like to win and I am not above proving to you how much I love you the whole night tonight.”

A simmering fire in your stomach suddenly erupted into a bright flame.

“I have an early class tomorrow morning,” you said, more of a reminder to yourself than to him. “We both do, actually.”

He merely scoffed. “You think that would stop me?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Just drive. Like you said, we have endless weekends like this ahead of us.”

And, even though you’d spent the bigger part of the weekend bickering and bantering, teasing and playing, both of you felt yourselves smile at the prospect of getting to do this again at the end of the next week. And then, at the end of the week that came after that. And then, the week after that. And after that.

At the end of every week, really. For as long as you wanted – be it the rest of your lives, or until the world ended.

keep reading | masterlist

[monicashipslokius]

Soulmates, Actually - Pt 2

(Read part one)

Despite their desire to buy Mobius more appropriate clothing as the soulmate of a god, Loki knows they’re not welcome back in Asgard. Not without facing some serious repercussions anyway - none of which they’re willing to subject Mobius to, by association.

So while they temporarily ‘magicked’ themself and Mobius away from the dark streets of that German city to a sunny, hot desert, they aren’t totally sure where to go next. They need a safe harbor, but few would give refuge to the notorious god of mischief. And therefore, again, to Mobius by association.

Some soulmate Loki is turning out to be.

Their displeasure must show on their face, because Mobius clutches their forearm and rubs his thumb back and forth in gentle strokes near the dip of their elbow. Loki closes their eyes a moment, and they take a breath. How such a simple gesture from their soulmate could bring such peace... Truly Loki is the most fortunate being in the universe. Even... even after everything else they’ve been through.

“We cannot stay here,” Loki says, eyes still closed, humiliated by their own incompetence.

“It’s not so bad,” Mobius says, chipper as ever. “I’m a bit overdressed, but...”

Loki opens their eyes again to see Mobius tug at the lapel of his suit. He is already sweating through the shirt underneath.

Humans are such fragile things, in need of such diligent care-taking. Something unpleasant claws at Loki’s ribcage from the inside. A voice whispers in their ear, You are not enough.

“Hey, I got an idea,” Mobius says, squeezing Loki’s arm in excitement. A smile slides easily across his lips. “We could go back to my place. Sure. Yeah. It’s not exactly built for royalty, but... There’s running water and some shade and a fridge with lots of soda pop.”

Loki frowns, confused, though they’re sure they understood most of those words. “...Soda pop?”

“Only the best brands. Yeah, this is great! Okay. Dubuque isn’t going to know what hit them.”

Loki tilts their head. “...Dubuque?”

Mobius nods, cheerful smile never dimming. “Iowa. I was only in Germany for a data analysis conference. Speaking of, I should probably text my coworker and let her know I’m not dead. I don’t want them to start a job search for my replacement yet. I told you how important my job is?”

Loki frowns harder, even as Mobius steps closer. He holds onto their shoulders.

“Dubuque, Iowa, get ready. Here comes the god of mischief and their soulmate!”

*

Loki isn’t sure what they expected Dubuque, Iowa to be like, but the lodgings they teleport into, presumably Mobius’s lodgings, are hopefully not a fair representation of the city as a whole.

“Home sweet home,” Mobius says.

“Is this a closet?” Loki asks, peering around the large single room. A bed is wedged against the far wall under a pair of small windows. To their immediate left, is the semblance of a minuscule kitchen - a sink, a few cabinets, and the promised refrigerator.

“Now, I know it doesn’t seem like much, but this place has everything you could ever need.”

Mobius walks into the living quarters. Three strides and he’s already halfway across the room. He goes to the windows and draws back the sheer curtains. The slightly improved lighting does nothing for Loki’s opinion. The walls, the bedspread, the carpeting - all shades of a light brown that Loki cannot tell is intentionally pale or faded over time.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Mobius says, pointing to a doorway off the corner that doubles as a bedroom.

Loki checks, and finds it lacking. There is not even a bath!

“Are all Midgardian accommodations like this?” Loki asks. They try to keep the disdain from their voice, for Mobius’s sake - but it is precisely for Mobius’s sake that they are so outraged!

“Oh. Well? Nah.” Mobius rubs the back of his neck. “I guess a lot of places are bigger, though it’s important, I think, to be happy with what you have.” He lifts his shoulders, then lets them drop. “Some people don’t have anything.”

Mobius shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over the bedspread. The sweat down his back speaks of his fragility once more, and Loki turns away. Mobius said he was valued by his company, but if that were true...

“Do all top data analysts have similar accommodations?” Loki asks. They’re still holding the scepter. Looking around, they see another door - a cloak closet? Loki draws open the door, and yes! Coats and shirts stuff the narrow space. Shoes are lined neatly across the floor. Loki tucks the scepter into the back, behind the clothes.

“The company pays me pretty well, actually,” Mobius says. “It’s just that... uh. How do I put this?”

Loki closes the door and turns toward Mobius, who has unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, and is rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

Mobius looks up to the ceiling, then at the bathroom door. “I had a bigger place for a long while, but a few years ago, I downsized. Lots of people buy big in anticipation of... well. But when they reach a certain age, they start to assume that... I guess I’d given up.”  He waves an arm out. “This place? It's been enough for just me.”

Loki takes a only small step forward, wanting to be at his side but suddenly afraid to, with Mobius’s sudden vulnerability. Loki doesn’t have the best reputation for healing things. Most of their life, they’ve only been good at breaking.

They fight to keep their voice steady as they say, “You didn’t think you would find your soulmate.”

Mobius shakes his head a little, but when he looks up at Loki, the smile that dimmed sparks back to life. “If I’d known I was waiting for a god, I would have kept the mortgage.” He tucks his head down. “This was probably a bad idea, wasn’t it? This can’t be anything like you’re used to.”

“It’s...not. But.” Loki forces themself to take another step, drawn in by the hopeful gleam in Mobius’s eye.

“But?”

Loki thinks back to when they were young, when they spent hours cultivating dreams that didn’t involve domination of the nine realms. Well, not only that. When they laid awake and thought of all the sweet nothings they would say to their soulmate and all the promises they would make. Back when they thought the universe still held some kindness for them.

They take the final step that brings them to Mobius and tells him, “I would like to stay where you are.”

“Even if it’s this closet?”

“It is... cozy.” Loki glances around. “Though I insist we redecorate.”

Mobius’s smile lights up his eyes, and Loki’s breath catches. They cannot remember the last time they made someone smile like that. Genuine. Bright. Happy. 

“So much beige,” Loki says, grinning. “Do you not see the value in a bit more excitement?”

“Trust me,” Mobius says, “I’m starting to.” He glances, ever so slightly, at Loki’s mouth, and Loki has never wanted to kiss anyone as much as they want to kiss this man in this drab apartment.

Loki starts to lean, and for a moment, Mobius does too.

But then Mobius worries his bottom lip between his teeth and steps away instead.

A familiar pang of rejection echos in Loki's chest. Even their own soulmate finds him lacking. They drop their gaze.

"Hey." Mobius touches their face, a finger under their chin, drawing their gaze right back up. "We should go slow, right?" He swallows hard. "I haven't... It's been a long time for me, and with you, I don't want to mess this up."

Loki wants to tell him that he couldn't ruin this, no matter what he did, but that would be a lie. The truth is much more complicated. Their souls are bound together by the cosmos, yes, but unfortunately the cosmos does not provide any training or instruction on how to sustain a lasting relationship.

Loki, themself, hasn't much experience in that matter. They've had their fun, but that was all.

"Is that okay?" Mobius asks, blue eyes like that of a baby fawn. Loki doubts they would deny him anything, ever. But especially not something they also want.

"Yes," Loki says, much softer than intended. They clear their throat and say, stronger, "Of course."

"Great!" That smile returns full-blast, brighter and more scalding than the desert sun. He bounces back a step. "I'm going to go grab a quick shower." He plucks at his shirt. "So sweaty. You okay for a minute?"

Loki shrugs and nods at the same time, as Mobius disappears into the bath-less bathroom. When the door closes behind him, Loki flops backwards onto the beige bed and stares up at the ceiling, flecked with plaster. The mattress sinks pleasantly beneath their weight. Loki thanks the realms that Mobius at least owns a decent bed.

The water turns on in the bathroom, muffled by the door. Mobius begins to sing. Loki hasn't heard the song before but doesn't need to, to know Mobius is singing off-tune and off-rhythm. A particularly bad note draws a startled laugh from Loki.

Loki glances at the door, wishing they could see Mobius's face, knowing he's wearing that infallible smile. A dresser beside the bed blocks their view, and their attention immediately shifts to a series of framed photos atop it. An older photo of a couple - Mobius's parents, presumably, is most prominent on the left. Their severe expressions do not match the tender way they hold the baby in their arms.

Beside that photo, one of a younger Mobius with longer blonde hair and no mustache sitting on a water vehicle, giving a thumbs-up. Loki smiles softly at him, at his beauty, though easily admits to themself that they prefer the Mobius of now - more gray than blonde, and the mustache. Dignified. Handsome. Loki thinks of kissing him again, and exhales. Going slow will be a test of their willpower, but Loki will overcome. For Mobius. For them, together.

The third photo is of a three-story brown building. Mobius's office? Loki rises from the bed to look closer, but - yes. Only a building, with no people in sight. A quick glance around the room proves no more photos. Why would Mobius dedicate one of his few photos to his workplace?

I guess I'd given up.

In the drab monochromatic room, the photo of Mobius on the ocean holds the only splash of color.

In the bathroom, the water turns off, but the singing continues. Loki listens closer, hears now how the chipper tones drop pitch at the end, and in that sound, so near a sigh, they recognize their own sadness.

Loki meets the stern gazes of Mobius's parents in their photo and vows to them, "I will make your son happy again."

The door opens, and Mobius appears, shirtless, a towel around his shoulders, and a pair of gray sweatpants high on his hips.

Loki's usually thunderous brain goes very, very quiet.

Mobius is not chiseled muscle. His shoulders are not particularly wide. He's not tall. But he needn't be any of those things. He is soft, sturdy lines, and stability, and courage, and the most attractive being Loki has ever had the blessing of putting their eyes upon.

Mobius dabs at his wet hair with the end of the towel. "Hey, you found my photos?"

The reminder of the photo of the building is enough to cool Loki's desire, though it still lingers, simmering, in the base of their being.

"Yes." Loki gestures to the offending photo. Mobius sees and drops the towel back to his shoulder.

"That's the office," he says, confirming Loki's suspicions. "It's a nice building, yeah?"

Loki tries not to let their distaste show on their face. Tries, not particularly hard. "Wouldn't you rather have more of your family? Your friends?"

"Oh. Mom and Pop didn't really care much for photos, and they're gone now." He doesn't mention extended family, or any friends - not even the protective work friend who tried to convince him away from Loki on their first meeting. Instead, he gives Loki a sad sort of smile, as big as the others before but so, so different. It doesn't reach his eyes at all.

Sometimes soulmates are very different from each other, practicing a running theory that opposites attract. But more often than not, soulmates share at least one or two very similar traits. Through these traits, they find common ground. Equal footing. A keystone that holds up all the parts of them that are different until they make a bridge.

In Mobius, Loki sees their own loneliness.

"Would you..." Loki pauses, unsure, but the kind curiosity in Mobius's eyes urges them on. "Perhaps we could have a likeness taken of us. To add to your collection."

The light returns to Mobius smile. Loki will fill this entire apartment with photos of them together if it keeps.

"I'd like that, Loki. A lot."

"Good."

Mobius goes to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. He withdraws a gray short-sleeved shirt and pulls it over his head. Then he glances over his shoulder. "You need to borrow something?"

Loki waves their hand and alters their clothing from their princely armor to a silk green sleep-shirt and pants.

"Woah." Mobius looks them up from head to toe and back again. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Loki laughs again, and this time, they aren't so startled. With Mobius, they are starting to expect it.

Mobius glances at the bed. Loki does too. Then at each other.

"I know, technically here in Iowa, it's maybe too early to go to bed, but I've gotta tell you, after this kinda day, I really need a nap." Mobius rubs the back of his neck. His cheeks tint pink. "But, uh there's only one bed. I don't even have a couch. Oh! I know! I'll sleep on the floor." The man reaches for one of the pillows like he actually intends to remove it.

Loki snatches his wrist. "You will do no such thing."

"Well, I'm not going to have a prince sleep on the floor."

"Mobius," Loki says gently. They bring Mobius's imprisoned hand to their mouth and place a soft kiss to his fingers. This fragile, precious human. "No one is sleeping on the floor."

"Oh." The pink in Mobius's cheeks reddens - a beautiful shade. "What... uh, what about going slow?"

Loki rolls their eyes. "I do not intend on impugning your virtue. I merely wish..." Their nonchalance slips rather suddenly, and their voice fails them. Saying their innermost desires aloud has only ever been used against them. That they nearly did so, so casually, shocks Loki to their core. Careless.

Mobius folds his hand over where Loki is clutching his other one, until Mobius holds Loki's in both of his own. He brings Loki's hand to his own mouth and places a soft kiss to each of their knuckles, one after the next, mustache tickling the back of their palm.

"What do you wish, Loki?" Mobius asks.

With Mobius, Loki wants to be careless. But to do so would be to give him power. And with that power, mortal or not, Mobius could crush them, heart and soul.

"I can tell you what I want?" Mobius says. "And you can tell me if you'd like that too."

"Very well," Loki says, breathless.

Mobius kisses the dip between Loki's fingers and thumb, and says, "I want to hold you. Fall asleep with you in my arms."

Loki's throat goes very dry. Their heart hammers wildly in his chest. They wants that. So much. But... no, surely Mobius will realize that is a terrible idea. He will change his mind at any moment. So Loki forces themself to say, voice hoarse, "I could kill you."

Mobius shrugs. He doesn't deny it, but he also doesn't let go of Loki's hand. "I figure you would have done it by now."

"I could be plotting."

Mobius meets their eyes, but they hold only fondness, no suspicion. "Are you?"

"Maybe."

"Mmhmm." He pulls Loki's hand to his chest. "Are you saying you aren't interested in the cuddling? It's okay to say no."

Loki opens their mouth but they still can't say what they want.

"No worries." Mobius kisses Loki's hand and releases it. "I can still sleep on the floor -"

"You will not sleep on the floor," Loki says, the annoyance at such a thing finally giving them their voice back.

"Okay, okay." Mobius holds their hands up. He laughs as he draws back the covers. He slides into the bed and then moves to the other side, pressing up against where the mattress meets the wall, so that Loki can have the open side, without being boxed in. Loki could run. Mobius would let them.

Loki crawls under the covers.

They lie in bed, side by side, both on their backs but not touching. Loki doesn't know how long they stay there, staring at the ceiling, before Mobius rolls onto their side, away from Loki. It feels wrong - too wrong, and in the quiet, Loki tries again to find the courage to have their wishes exposed.

"Mobius," they whisper. If Mobius is already asleep, then they won't -

"Yeah, Loki?"

Loki swallows down their nerves. Mobius has only proven himself trustworthy. They are soulmates. Soulmates trust. "Mobius, I..."

Mobius rolls onto his back. He turns his head toward Loki and waits. He waits, and waits, and waits. Loki wonders if he would wait forever.

His patience is what finally cracks through the walls Loki built.

"Will you hold me?" Loki asks, and braces for rejection. For mockery. For any offer to be rescinded with a joke.

Instead, Mobius turns toward them and holds open his arms. "Come on."

Loki slides into the open spot against Mobius's chest, and Mobius folds his arms around them.

Loki's whole body relaxes at once, all the tension evaporating. Mobius is warm and sturdy against their back. His breaths are hot on the shell of Loki's ear.

"This okay?" Mobius asks.

Loki nods.

"I got you," Mobius says, holding tighter.

Loki waits a long moment, then two. They half want Mobius to fall asleep so they won't hear when they say, "Don't let go."

"I won't," comes Mobius's quick reply, slurred slightly with sleep. "I won't let you go, Loki."

Loki knows they shouldn't, but... they start to believe. And with that knowledge, that safety, sleep follows.

*

A thunderous knock sounds heavy against the front door, jolting Loki awake.

"Loki?" Mobius asks, rubbing his eye.

“Are you expecting company?” Loki pushes themself upright on the bed, heart racing.

Mobius frowns. “I’m supposed to be in Germany.”

The knocking comes again, louder. So hard the door cracks. Someone on the other side lightly curses, and Loki goes cold. They knows that voice.

Thor.

Here. Now.

“Loki?” Mobius sits upright too, and grips Loki’s shoulders. He’s so fragile, and yet so grounding. His hands are steady. His grip firm. He's as fully awake now as Loki is, and Loki can the concern in his eyes, even in the dark of the room. “Whoever it is, I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Only a fool would make that promise,” Loki says. “It’s my brother on the other side of that door.”

They expect the words to scare Mobius into rescinding his promise of protection, and they steel their heart against the inevitable hurt. You are never enough.

But Mobius does not look afraid. His jaw sets. His brow lowers. If anything, he seems even more determined.

A fool, for sure. Enough to make Loki’s heart swell. And their nerves prickle.

Loki stands, stepping away from the bed. Mobius quickly follows.

Mobius stood against Captain America and Tony Stark, but they were fellow Midgardians. Thor? Thor is of Asgard. Mobius must know he holds no chance against a god.

But he does not seem to care.

“Hide in the bathroom,” Mobius says. “I’ll get rid of him.”

Loki blinks. “Pardon?”

“It will be fine.” Mobius places a hand on the small of Loki's back and gently shoves them towards the tiny bathroom.

“But, Mobius -”

“Listen, Loki. You are my soulmate. Soulmates protect each other.”

“But -” Loki steps into the bathroom, at Mobius’s behest.

Mobius grabs the handle of the door. “He wants to throw you in some Asgardian prison or something, right? That’s not happening.”

“Mobius -”

“I’ll be right back.” Mobius winks, then closes the door, taking Loki’s heart with him.

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: part 1

Intro <-

Yang:So how we doin this? Drawing straws or... well we actually don’t have straws here so-

Weiss:It’s obvious that you wanna go first.

Blake:Extremely obvious.

Ruby:All over your face.

Yang:Hey now, don’t call me out like that! We all have so much to sort out here. I don’t even know where to begin. Differences could start and stop anywhere for all we really know.

Blake:From what it seems, Beacon itself would have one or two minor changes, but the real changes start after the fall. At least, for you three that is.

Weiss:You saying you’re different?

Blake:Unless you three started going on dates with Jaune at Beacon, then yes, I’m different.

RWY:(They’ve been together that long!?)

Yang:Okay, starting from Beacon...nothing really stands out too much. Jaune and I were just friends. *cringes* Back then, a certain faunus caught my eye.

Blake:Ah...right. I guess that tracks in practically every universe.

RW:Oh yeah it does. You two are joined at the hip.

Yang:Haha, really? Glad to hear it. My Blake and I are best buds! Remnant has never seen such a dynamic duo! Can’t say it didn’t take a lot of time effort after a rough patch. We actually dated in my world.

Blake:Same.

Yang:What!? How long?

Blake:I don’t know, it was pretty on again off again.

Yang:Well for me it was after Haven. Both of us had gotten pretty serious. All the growing we’ve done together and apart had brought us closer. However, Adam unintentionally put a wedge between us. His attempt to change and the problems that came with it were-

Yang stopped midway and saw the confused faces of her otherworldly teammates. They were shocked, confused even. Especially Blake, who looked the most shocked of all.

Yang:Umm did I say something odd?

Blake:Adam, he...isn’t dead?

Yang:Oh, well I guess that’s the start of the major changes then. Blake and I fought Adam at Argus. Stabbed him through the chest and watched him fall down rocks into a river.

Ruby:That lines you with my world. Dude died that day. Like any normal person should.

Yang:Well Adam is anything but fucking normal. Man has the craziest luck. A young women, the winter maiden in fact, she saved his life. She’s not exactly normal either. The maiden, Jacquelyn, ended up sticking by him to see if she could change his ways. This naturally meant we’d run into them again. And that’s how things fell apart.

Blake:What do you mean?

Yang:You were fully committed to seeing if Adam could actually change. I wasn’t, so we constantly butted heads in any situation involving him. Then we would fight about things that had nothing to do with at all. Eventually, we broke it off. We remained on decent terms but I was pretty heartbroken about the disconnect. Enter our lovable blonde idiot. Jaune did everything in his power to cheer me up.

Weiss:Sounds like him. Always such a bleeding heart. That boy just can’t help himself. Let me guess, his kindness and concern made you feel all warm and fuzzy?

Yang:Hehe, guilty. It was more of his willingness to laugh at my puns. Jaune’s always been interesting to talk to. He tries to act cool and calm even though he’s terrible at it, then comes clean right after. Before I knew it I was telling him things I hadn’t talked about with people before. I could tell he looked at me like most guys do, but also genuinely wanted to listen to me. Talk about playing unfair; he got defenseless. Suddenly I was smiling again. Anytime with him was time well spent. Then one day, I kissed him.

Ruby:Happily ever after?

Yang:Not even close! Hahaha!

Weiss:Why do you sound proud?

Yang:It’s funny looking back at it to a certain degree. Gods, I was such a brat. More than a few fights are on me. Between Blake, Raven, and other experiences, my insecurities flared up in ugly ways over nothing. It even got us to break up too. I was officially done with dating. My Ruby was out in an uncomfortable position.

Ruby:I bet! I’d never want you two fighting. Especially in my world. Picking between the person I love and my sister!? I don’t know what will happen.

Yang:I kinda do. *sets up* You’d start dating Jaune because you’ve looked at him since Beacon. The two of you would confide in each other and share a special kind of love, but it would be bittersweet. All because your sister still pines for him and never met to make him leave, and Jaune never says it, but he hates how things fell apart. He’s faithful to you and would never do you wrong, a guy to truly cherish. So... you let him go. Watch him walk back to your sister like you asked, because my happiness was worth that much to you.

Ruby:....

Yang: In my world at least. Honestly it’s still the most amazing thing I’ve seen you do. We must’ve cried over that conversation for hours. I felt so guilty and you only smiled, hugging me tight. Jaune and I had a few more stumbles. Nothing serious though. Eventually we moved in together when the world was saved. You and Oscar got together officially which made me happy. Even made our weddings a competition of who’d make dad bawl his eyes out the most. You won by the way; Raven came back into our family and into dad’s arms. Last but not least I had a baby. Yujin Xiao Long, my fucking pride and joy from above.

Weiss:Wow, that’s a lot.

Blake:What am I doing? Did I marry Sun?

Yang:Yep. You and blondes Blake, I tell ya.

Weiss:Hold the phone! Who am I with!?

Yang:Pretty sure you’re technically single. Buuuut, Neo and your have gotten pretty friendly from what I managed to interrogate out of you.

Weiss:That’s, highly unexpected. For a number of reasons.

Yang:Better believe it. Besides Cinder, a few crazies, and Salem, a few people made something of themselves. Dying sucks after all.

Ruby:You have a dead Cinder?

WBY: You don’t?

Ruby:*crosses arms* Hmph, I’ll wait my turn. Yang, you said you’re the only mother from our team. If Blake and I have been married for quite some time then what, we don’t want kids?

The joyful sunshine from Yang slipped into grayer skies. Her smile faded and it increasingly got harder to look at this Ruby without thinking of her own.

Yang:Are you sure that’s something you wanna know? I’ll tell you, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood with the problems where I from.

Blake:Problems? How big of a problem.

Yang:The biggest we’ve faced. It’s...a lot.

Ruby:Well we’ve listened this far. *takes hand* Lay it on us.

Yang:Pfft, oh boy. So...umm...another secret war came up. One that caused us to leave our friends and family for over a decade.

Weiss:A decade!?

Blake:What gets worse after Salem!? Who tries anything after a grimm queen!?

Yang:So a majority of Remnant was still unaware of her, but a fight like that can only be kept under wraps so tightly. Plenty of people still learned fractions of the truth. A few of those people weren’t exactly nice guys. They idolized her efforts and became her followers that wanted to keep her will alive, starting with taking revenge on the people who defeated her. We were so unaware. So caught up in normalcy. They ambushed us, and I mean everyone. We...we didn’t come out unscathed. Ren was crippled badly. Weiss, you almost your brother. Jaune’s family got hit but thankfully lived. The real casualties were aimed to hurt Ruby.

Ruby:Oh, of course. S-So, either you’re about to say I had no time to start a family, or...

Yang:...

Yang:When I tell you the look you made when you learned what happened to Oscar, to Qrow... that’s the moment it felt like my little sister left forever. Till this day you don’t smile like you used to. Very recently, now that it’s finally over, you’ve started looking better, but those ten years were hell. We choose to go out and fight again, avoiding contact with family. I haven’t had a real opportunity to be in my daughters life.

Ruby:How old is she?

Yang:Sixteen soon. Left her when she was four so you know. *tearing up* I missed everything. Just about anyways. Ironically it was Raven and Adam that helped her through the years with Jaune and Dad. Eventually we came back and ooohh boy was Yujin not thrilled in the slightest. Hehehe. Her right hook is really strong. I only had about a week with her before things got complicated again. *wipes eyes* But it’s okay. We left on good term. Something I definitely don’t feel like I deserve.

Blake:I can’t believe a thing like that would be possible.

Yang:Cults are a huge problem in Remnant now. You’re definitely aware of that. You actually oversee a little group from the shadows to deal with them in secret. An idea you got from experience. Adam works for you and everything. Hate to admit, but he’s become the guy you wanted him to be. Even has a family. I’m grateful to him. He personally kept my girl safe.

Blake:To think I’d hear you say that. Now I know this isn’t my world.

Yang:Don’t get me wrong, I still will hit him if given the chance. My life hasn’t been charmed and sacrifices too great were happening way too many times but it finally has gotten to a point where everyone feels like we’re taking steps towards a better future.

Weiss:Moving forward?

Yang:Yes, I was trying to avoid the phrase but yes Weiss, we’re moving forward. Still... *looks at Ruby*....

Ruby:W-What?

Yang:It’s unreal seeing you like this. My Ruby has become so strong and endured but hasn’t really picked herself up completely. All her tragedy stemmed from the loss of Oscar and Qrow; her last talk with Oscar was fight about kids too. That’s the entire reason she went off alone in the first place. Looking at you I can’t help but question my own choices. If...I just let her stay with Jaune, then maybe-

Ruby:Nope.

Yang:Huh?

Ruby:Look, if I know anything about your world, then it’s gonna be me and I can tell you without a doubt your Ruby doesn’t blame or would consider her own happiness without you. She loved you enough to take the chance to find love again. You really think there’s anything you could’ve done differently at that point. That girl is as stubborn as they come! *smiles* So buck up cowgirl. You deserve it.

A sense of warmth came over Yang as she heard those words. This other Ruby smiled at her with the same love as her own; completely caring about Yang’s feeling before her own. Yang felt so...unburdened. She couldn’t help but cry a little, laughing softly as she did. Who would’ve thought love could transcend worlds? It was so vindicating, therapeutic even.

Yang:Ruby, you’re something else entirely, you know that?

Ruby:It’s my curse. All I ever wanted was normal knees but the world said “no, special eyes!”

Yang:Well I guess I should thank the world then?

Weiss:You said your Ruby is getting better? That’s good. Still, it must be pretty weird looking at Jaune. Can’t imagine how lonely it must feel losing a love twice.

Blake:It never numbs.

Yang:Geez you two, lighten up. We can’t all be depressed. Ruby also didn’t lose Jaune. Actually....there may or may not have been an interesting...arrangement for a brief period of time.

Ruby:Ehhh what?

Yang:Hehehe well, hahaha, ummmm a decade is a very long time without feeling any kind of pleasure in a bleak situation. And you know me, I have to share things with you all my life.

Ruby:OH MY GOD!!!

Blake:*grinning* Yooooo! You loaned out Jaune!?

Weiss:That’s....accurate; in a lot of ways.

Ruby:That’s so scandalous! How could you!?

Yang:I didn’t force it! I gave the option, you said no, then you changed your mind because things got real stressful. Like come on, a decade of death and loneliness.

Ruby:Sigh...yeah. I can see it. Still, it’s so filthy. He’s a married man. What, so I’d just look at you and say “Yang I’m gonna sleep with Jaune, don’t come in the room.”

Yang:....

Ruby:What?

Yang:....Nothing.

Ruby:Bullshit! What is it!?

Yang:*scratches head* Well, I was lonely too, and a week is only so long-

Weiss:Oh so it was a group thing!!?

Ruby:WHAT!?

Yang:Only sometimes!

Ruby:SOMETIMES!?

Blake:HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

Ruby:Why are you laughing!?

Blake:Because that’s just so extreme, and not, all at the same time. I could totally see that happening.

Weiss:Same. Dang, Jaune slept with sisters. That’s dangerously close to being like your dad.

Ruby:That’s different!

Blake:Is it though?

Yang:Eh, I don’t see the problem. We’re all grown and make choices. Plus I’m the one who guided you through awkward teenage changes. It not like we didn’t share a room for years.

Ruby:That doesn’t make it okay.

Yang:Eh debatable.

Ruby:*red* It isn’t though! How could I do something so bold!? So taboo!?

Weiss:It isn’t like you’re the one who did it. Just a version of you.

Ruby:Not better!

Yang:Awwww it’s okay Ruby. Let’s hug it out. Hehehe *opens arms*

Ruby:Don’t touch me!

Weiss and Blake laugh until their sides hurt as Ruby tries escaping the bear hug that terrorized her. Yang’s world found interesting for sure. Weiss finally decides to help Ruby out.

Weiss:Got a picture of Yujin?

Yang’s eyes lit up and pulled out her scroll. Her team huddled around her and collectively cooed like that parents they are at the sight of a blonde young girl with gorgeous blue eyes with a black combat school graduation cap and gown and a certificate proudly raised up high. If it wasn’t for those eyes and shoulders length hair, they might’ve mistaken her for Yang.

Yang:She’s going to Beacon early because she’s fucking awesome like her mom.

Ruby:I think you mean her aunt?

Yang:I know what I said.

Weiss:I bet she’s just as hardheaded.

Blake:What do you think your kid is up to right now?

Yang: Well...*smiles*

xxxx

The girl in question sat at a work bench with oil on her face and her hands busy tinkering with gauntlets. She looked over at blueprints in a journal. If they were right, then she was definitely doing something wrong. How her mother made something so complex was crazy!

Yujin:Come on Yujin. You can fix a car, making gauntlets into a sword that don’t break should be easy!

Footsteps came up from behind her and a plate stacked with sandwiches. She looked up and smiled at her dad that gave her a wink, then kissed her forehead.

Jaune:Haveing fun, you grease monkey.

Yujin:Jokes on you, I like monkeys. Just a few more attempts and I’ll have the coolest weapon in Remnant. That entrance exam is as good as aced.

Jaune:Not if you don’t have a landing strategy. Tomorrow we’re going on a trip.

Yujin:Does it happen to be near a cliff?

Jaune:Who can say? Rule one of being a huntsman, be prepared for everything.

He ruffled her hair and left, laughing evilly. Yujin could tell he’s been waiting for this day. She pulled out her scroll and searched through a collection of videos labeled “mom” and found a super early one. She hit play and watched her mother give a peace sign to the camera as trees increasingly got closer from below.

Yang:Beacon rules!!!! Wooohooo!

The camera flipped and focused on a familiar blonde flailing through the air like a doll in the distance.

Yang:Oof, hate to be that guy! Wait, that’s vomit boy! Hahah, hope he survives. He owes me shoes. Poor dude. I guess he needs more training in flirting and landing. Wait, eugh I think he barfed again! Hahaha!

Jaune:Stop watching that one!!!!

Yujin:Hahaha but it’s the best one. The ending is priceless.

Jaune: *walks back down*

Yang:Well if he survives this I guess I can off him at least I can offer him mints and company. Fake it to ya make Jaune. Between me and Ruby, at least you’ll look like a player. Heh, nah, I don’t think I can support a bunny onesie.

Yujin and Jaune:*grinning* And then she did! *high-fives* Arc charm, baby!

[wooyunhwa]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

view pinned post for masterlist!

Genre: smut (with plot), angst

Pairing: mafia au!seonghwa x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k 

Warnings: violence, lots of angst 

Synopsis: The truth comes to light as things take a turn for the worse. Seonghwa’s family secrets are darker than you imagined, and you find yourself caught in the crossfire. How can things ever return to normal?

A/N: I’m sorry in advance for what I’m about to put you all through. Technically still smut but mostly plot here! This is my favorite chapter so far from a writing and a reading perspective so I really hope you all enjoy!! Comments are super appreciated as always! <3 My posts are disappearing from the tags so if you read this and enjoy a reblog is really appreciated so my work can be seen! 

Panic. 

That’s what you felt as you gathered a small bag of your things. You felt like you were packing up your things to evacuate for some sort of natural disaster. It all happened so fast, throwing some clothes and your most prized possessions in a bag and flying.

It wasn’t long before you were in the passenger seat of his car. He peeled out of your driveway and onto the highway before you could even register the events of the past 10 minutes fully in your mind. Why was he so urgent? Why were you in danger? Where were you going?

In your state, you could only choke out a few confused words. “Seonghwa, what the fuck?”

“I guess I promised I’d explain, didn’t I?” He had his eyes glued on the road, but you noticed him shift in his seat nervously. “There was a fight... with my father. He told me he found out about you. That I’d been seeing you.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. But he threatened to have you… removed.”

Your heart sunk in your chest, nausea building in your stomach. “Removed? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Killed, probably. It usually does. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve put out a hit on someone to protect the family’s interests. And it wouldn’t be the last.”

Your limbs felt like lead as you took it in, glued to your chair by what felt the weight of the entire world. You sat silently for a while, unable to process the breadth of the situation fully. You didn’t even feel like crying, you just felt truly speechless. You were snapped back to reality by his hand stroking your thigh, the other gripped tightly around the leather steering wheel. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he comforted. His soothing voice helped to calm your nerves as you watched the scenery fly by. “I’m gonna make sure it’s okay.” 

You didn’t talk for a while after that, not quite sure what to say. Your legs trembled slightly, but you managed to get your breathing under control. You made light conversation, or attempted to at least, but it felt contrived at best. Why were you so nervous to talk about anything serious? You were literally escaping from the fucking mafia, but the idea of talking about Seonghwa’s father felt too off limits. You gathered the courage to ask something that had been on your mind for a while. Seonghwa had talked very little about his position within the mafia, other than the fact that he was the boss’ son. Otherwise, you knew very little about its structure. 

“About, uh… your family. There’s something I’m confused about.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at your sudden curiosity.

“The guys who helped you rescue me—Wooyoung and Jongho—you called them your cohorts. Who are they? In—in the mafia I mean.”

Seonghwa sighed. It was something he always did before revealing information he knew shouldn’t be telling you. “Well, Jongho is like my cousin, in a way. Wooyoung, well, that’s more complicated.”

“I have time.”

“He’s kind of like my brother, but we aren’t related. Not by blood at least. I’ve known him since we were young. We were raised together.”

“We’ve been dating for a month and you didn’t tell me you had a brother? Jeez, Seonghwa,” you teased. 

“Ah, dating, you say?” A smirk pulled up on his lips and he flashed you a playful glance. “I like that.” 

You wanted to ask him a bit more about his family, but you decided it was best not to push your luck any further than what he’d just been willing to divulge. You drove in a comfortable yet tense silence for a while longer, and you tried closing your eyes to maybe seize a few moments of sleep, but to no avail. 

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

“Can we get some air? I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“That’s fine. I could afford to stretch my legs a bit.” 

You pulled off at the next lookout point. It was completely empty, like the rest of the highway had been since you’d been driving, and he pulled the car off in the furthest spot. 

The lookout was gorgeous, much like your company. You couldn’t see much of the intended scenery in the dark veil of the night, but you could see the stars glimmering in the sky, brighter than you’d ever seen. Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled in the starlight, and you watched him in awe as he took in the view. The circumstances may have been terrible, but you couldn’t imagine a more picturesque night. 

You hoisted yourself on the stone ledge of the lookout, legs straddling Seonghwa as he stood in front of you. He pulled you in closer until your waists flush were together, and you squeezed your legs tightly around him.

He stroked your hair for a bit, then moved a hand down, his fingers drawing along the sensitive skin of your neck. His touch on you felt exhilarating in the cool breeze of the night—something about the adrenaline of running away with this man had you melting like putty in his hands. 

“You’re too tempting,” he purred in your ear, running his other hand along the small of your waist. “We should be getting back on the road… but I have half a mind to take you right here.” 

Inspiration struck. You gave a few sensual kisses to his neck, breathing heavily against it as you spoke. “Your car.” 

“What about it?”

“Fuck me in your car, Seonghwa.” That came out more forward than you intended, but there was no point in mincing words right now. 

His breath caught in his throat. You watched as his expression turned from lustful to invigorated, a hot fire burning beneath his eyes. He scooped you up, your legs still cinched tightly around his waist for support. You threw your arms around his neck as he guided you back to the Bentley, tossing you gently in the backseat.

You didn’t necessarily have expensive tastes, but something about the luxury of his car was arousing in a way you couldn’t describe. The quilted leather seats felt cool against your skin, and you didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to know they were custom. The car smelled like fresh mahogany and leather, like the most incredible cologne you could imagine. How could he keep it so immaculate?

His lips slid against yours as he crawled on top of you. He barely fit in the tight confinement of the backseat, having to bend his knees slightly as he positioned himself over you. Your arm came up to his waistband, doing him the favor of removing his belt for him as you made out. The air in the car grew thick and balmy with the heat of your lustful breaths, fogging the already tinted windows slightly. 

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, his tongue dancing and sliding against each other hungrily. You palmed his dick through his pants, and he groaned needily against your mouth. His raging hard-on indicated he craved more. He followed your lead as you ungracefully unbuttoned his pants, sliding his underwear down, allowing yourself better access to his dick. You clumsily wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping and twisting, drawing moans from his lips like music. He hoisted you by your waist up to a sitting position, settling you down on his lap. His hands explored under the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head suddenly, and you took the initiative to clumsily remove the rest of your clothes, giggling lightly at the difficulty of maneuvering in the confined space. “Your car might be more expensive than my house but that doesn’t make this any easier,” you grumbled, and you watched him as he smiled, unbuttoning his own shirt, still entranced by watching you undress. 

You settled back down in his lap, repositioning your hand around his shaft. You loved the way his dick fit perfectly in your hand, and you subtly teased him with your hand, rubbing circles on the tip, applying just enough pressure to the base to keep him wanting under your touch. He moaned against your lips, his needy grunts indicating you had him in the palm of your hand. 

He reciprocated by running one finger along your folds, testing your wetness. The sudden sensation caught you off guard, and you removed your hand from him for a moment to wrap your arms around his neck. He pumped a finger in and out slowly, drawing contented whines from your lips against his ear. How had he managed to turn the control of the situation back to his favor? 

His touches were just as deliberate—giving you just enough to be overwhelmed with pleasure, but not fully satisfied. You were practically dripping in his lap now, and the thought of his dick stretching you out was sounding more and more tempting. 

He pulled his fingers out suddenly, guiding your shoulders away from him for a moment to take the image of you in. Something familiar glimmered in his eyes--you recognized the same expression he had on earlier, when he marvelled at the stars. His facial expression softened into wonder. 

"I'm so lucky," he mused softly, and it was almost as if he wasn't talking to you, but to himself, for a moment. "I know you're scared of what's going to happen next. But it's going to be okay." 

His words hit something deep inside of you, a part of your mind you had pushed far down. The part that was incredibly scared of the coming unknowns. 

He stroked your hair, his eyes still sparkling as he comforted you. His voice was calm and smooth as always. "No matter what happens I'm going to protect you. I promise." 

You kissed him gently, forgetting for a moment the explicitly sexual position you were in. Slowly but surely, you were falling for him. Well, more like tripping flat on your face down a flight of stairs for him. You had known that for a while, but your sudden dangerous circumstances had cemented it in your mind. He was yours, undeniably. 

You smiled against his lips. "I'll hold you to that promise." 

You felt his hands reposition under you, raising your hips and positioning you over his shaft. You sunk down slowly, and his nails sunk into you with a breathy moan as you pushed down fully. “You feel incredible,” he cooed softly. You moaned against the skin of his neck as his dick stretched you out slowly. The intimacy of the moment heightened every sensation by what felt like a power of a million. You rocked your hips slowly on top of him, and one of his hands came up to caress your breasts, the other supporting under your ass as you moved. Your pleasured moans harmonized with his, echoing against the interior of the Bentley. The car rocked slightly under you as you slid up and down over his hips slowly. He brought the hand on your breast down to where his cock connected with you, applying gentle pressure to your clit. The sensation was almost too much to handle. “Seong- fuck, ah-” you whined breathlessly. You trembled under his touch, barely able to move your hips up and down with the way your legs were shaking. 

“I want you to feel good,” he breathed in your ear. His deep voice resonating in your ear sent you soaring, and your eyes rolled back as he rubbed harder against your clit, rutting his hips up against you. Your orgasm crashed through you, enveloping your mind in a thick, blissful fog. He held you tight as you shook, and you saw his lips curl up into a smile. “Good girl,” he praised, and you panted against him, still coming down from your high. “Tired?”

You were, you were exhausted. You came hard, harder than you could remember in a long time. But you wanted to give him the same pleasure he’d given you. You continued to rock up and down on his dick, mustering up every drop of energy you had to slam your hips down on him. He sang your praises with his desperate groans, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. You latched your lips against his neck, marking him as you gave a few final thrusts. He bucked his hips up against you, and you rocked in motion with each other. 

You felt warm liquid spill over inside of you, Seonghwa grunting beautifully as he came, before pausing for a moment. “Shit, I didn’t mean to- inside-” he stuttered, his voice laced with a slight panic.

“Hwa, it’s fine. I’m on birth control,” you reassured, sliding yourself off on him. You realized that was the first time you’d called him by his nickname.

He paused, smiling a bit. “Right. I probably should have known that.”

You collapsed on top of him, still straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, head nestled in his warm neck. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so relaxed, so content, than while you were wrapped in his arms. Even in the balmy heat of the car, you felt refreshed leaning against his soft skin. It felt unbelievably intimate, the way you were pressed against each other, bodies nearly flush. He ran his fingers through your hair, combing through the knots slowly. 

“You’re probably gonna have to get this thing detailed,” you laughed, realizing you were dripping sweat—and all sorts of other liquids—all over his custom interior. 

“Worth it,” he grumbled, pulling you in tighter against him.

You sat silently like that for a while, both working to catch your breath from the intense session. 

Seonghwa was the first to break the silence, his voice tender and calm. “That thing you said… about us dating.” He paused. “We are, right?”

You smiled against the skin of his neck as you nestled your head tighter into the crook of his neck. “Yes, I think we are.”

He pushed you away from him gently, so that you were eye-level with him. His eye contact was intense and serious, but loving. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden cheesiness—you’d never been particularly good at embracing sincere moments. “Does this mean I can say my boyfriend is in the mafia?” 

He chuckled for a moment before his expression grew serious. “Not for much longer. If we can pull this off, I want to start a new life with you.”

“Awfully fast, don’t you think?” you teased, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. Then, more seriously, “I’d like that.”

You sat like that, embraced for a while. You felt remarkably safe in his arms, despite everything you’d been through with him. Your track record with him was tainted with the threat of uncertainty, and yet it felt entirely right. You debated telling him just how much you were falling for him, but you decided to hold off for the moment. This was enough. 

You eventually slipped back into your clothes after nearly nodding off in his arms in the backseat. He carried you around to the front seat in a bridal hold, resting you lightly in the plush leather passenger seat. He retrieved a thin blanket from the trunk, draping it over you delicately. 

The last thing you remember was Seonghwa’s hand gently stroking your thigh as he drove, and the gentle hum of the car’s tires on the highway lulling you to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a few moments to adjust to the low light of the night outside the window. It was dark, but you could make out the glimmer of water on the horizon to your right. 

The ocean? How long had you been driving for?

“Seonghwa,” you muttered drowsily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“I have a private place. A beach house. We’ll be safe there for the night—my father doesn’t know about it.”

Jesus. A beach house? How many houses could one man have? you thought, biting your tongue from saying anything out loud. You still sometimes forgot how rich he was, even while lying comfortably in the passenger seat of his Bentley. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh comfortingly.  

You nodded sleepily, your consciousness fading in and out as he finished the drive. The car slowed significantly as he pulled off the highway onto a rougher private road. It was lined with a thick covering of trees on both sides, filtering out the faint glow of the moonlight. You dragged to a halt at the end of the road, met with the sight of a clearly expensive and yet surprisingly quaint beach house. You had your hand on the car door latch, about to press it open when Seonghwa suddenly grabbed your arm. 

“Wait.”

You paused, your stomach sinking as you saw his expression fall into something serious. You followed his gaze out the window, headlights piercing the front windshield the moment you looked up. 

Three cars circled you, tires skidding against the sandy pavement as they screeched to a halt. You looked at Seonghwa, frozen in fear as figures began to step out into the night. 

“Seonghwa—” You grabbed his arm, curling your fingers into the fabric of his sleeve as you watched the men grow closer. 

“Stay here,” he said sternly. “Don’t move.”

He stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He took an apprehensive step forward, keeping close as he called out to them.

“What the fuck do you want?” His expression was tight, stoic as he scanned the crowd. There were five men that you could count, standing in a loose circle around Seonghwa’s Bentley. Panic crept into your system, and you clenched your fists against the seats. 

The car right in front of you swung its driver’s side door open, and a familiar blonde haired figure stepped out. 

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa called, giving a relieved sigh as he laid eyes on his comrade. “Thank god it's you, I thought I’d been caught. Why did you—did something happen?” 

The expression on Seonghwa’s face was one of visible confusion. Wooyoung laughed, running a hand through his hair. He looked up at Seonghwa with eyes cold as ice. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Hwa. You really threw a wrench in things, you know. You think you can just run off with your little girlfriend so easily?”

Run off? Was he trying to run away from the mafia?

“I—I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t.” Wooyoung scoffed, bitter and resentful. 

“Did my dad put you up to this? Were you the one who told him I was—”

“Your dad? Hah, I’m not the one who told him you were leaving, Hwa.”

“Then, why…”

“Your dad is the reason I can’t let you leave. You have no idea the kind of hell he put me through. Not a fucking clue!” His voice trembled with an eerie, subdued rage.

“Look, I don’t know what my father did, but I hate him as much as you do. I have nothing to do with him!”

“You can’t possibly hate him like I do,” Wooyoung laughed humorlessly. “You’re his only son. You mean everything to him. He has everything he could possibly want. Money, power, respect… But you, you can’t be replaced.”

“What the hell are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“The agony of his only son slipping away, powerless to stop it. How it feels to have the only person you love ripped away from you, just like that… like my father was.”

“Your father? My father said he found you abandoned in a crack house, left to starve after your parents ran off!”

“Well, he fucking lied, didn’t he?”

Seonghwa stood, stunned at Wooyoung’s words. 

“He lied. You wanna know what really happened? Your father put a bullet in my father’s head with his own two hands. He was murdered, Seonghwa. Not before being tortured, of course. I saw the whole thing. But your daddy doesn’t know that.”

“He… what? Wooyoung, I didn’t know—“ 

“Of course you didn’t!”

“If I had known earlier—“ 

“What would you have done, exactly? Kill him? No, see, I don’t want him dead. I want him to live his life out with his son’s blood on his hands.” 

“The blood would be on your hands, not his!” 

“In a literal sense, yeah. But you know what they say. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. I’m just paying back what he’s owed.” 

“You’re like a brother to me, Woo. You know that. You always have been.” Seonghwa’s voice was softer that time. Sadder. 

“I’ve never once thought of you as a brother. I can’t even look at your fucking face. You’re the spitting image of him, right down to your fucking ego,” Wooyoung spat, closing the distance between them, giving Seonghwa a harsh shove to the chest. 

“You don’t mean that,” Seonghwa said, stumbling back. He clearly wasn’t looking for a fight. 

“I do mean it. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I bring him your fucking head!” He punctuated his words with a swing powered with rage and hatred. 

“Woo, please—I don’t want to fight you!” Seonghwa dodged his blows, refusing to swing back. 

“I wanna let off a little steam before I kill you. Come at me. Come on, hit me!” 

Wooyoung swung again, his lips curled up into a furious smile as he aimed at Seonghwa’s face again. The punch landed, almost as if Seonghwa let it. He staggered back, wiping a stream of red across his cheek as it dripped from his nose. 

“Man, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” Wooyoung sounded almost giddy with delight. 

“Please, Woo, that’s enough—”

“Hit me. Right now.”

“No.”

“No?” 

The smile faded from Wooyoung’s face. He made a nod to one of his guys, who flung the passenger door open and grabbed you by the hair. You screamed as he dragged you out of the car, kicking and thrashing against his hold to no avail. He halted, and you felt something cold against your temple. 

“Fight me, or the pretty girl dies.” 

You heard a frightening click next to your ear, and your blood turned to ice. You frantically looked over at Seonghwa, who met your gaze with a look of anguish you’d never seen on him before. 

“Stop—Wooyoung, please! Don’t drag her into this!”

Wooyoung clucked his tongue in sympathy. “Poor thing, having to take the fall with you. I’ll be nice, at least. I’ll give you two a nice double grave—”

Seonghwa cut him off with a right hook. Wooyoung stumbled back, clutching his chin with a satisfied smile. Seonghwa grabbed him by the jacket, dragging him in so their noses were practically touching.

“You lay one finger on her and that grave is yours,” he snarled. 

Seonghwa shoved him forward, giving himself enough room to cock his fist back for a punch. Wooyoung ducked out of the way, swooping in for a jab, landing it square against Seonghwa’s cheekbone, using the momentum from his dodge to power his blow. 

Seonghwa caught his balance and lunged, keeping his eyes locked to Wooyoung’s face as he threw his weight forward for another attack. Wooyoung was fast, light on his feet and easily stepped to the side, delivering another painful blow to Seonghwa’s face. 

You couldn’t bear to look, but also couldn’t bear to look away. You were afraid of what would happen if you closed your eyes, but you felt every punch that Seonghwa took as if you were the one fighting Wooyoung instead. Tears welled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks as you watched powerlessly from the sidelines. 

“Stop,” you croaked, your voice lodged in your throat. They couldn’t hear you, and even if they could, they wouldn’t stop for you. You had no part in this. You felt small, useless, and utterly, utterly powerless. 

“I take it back, you’re nothing like your father. You’re weak as hell, afraid to hit me with everything you’ve got. At least your father wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger,” Wooyoung taunted through his teeth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa snarled, launching a hit to Wooyoung’s nose so hard that blood nearly splattered all the way to your feet. 

Wooyoung dragged a hand across his mouth, wiping away the blood pouring down his lips from his nose. He smirked as he looked down at his hand, shaking off drops of crimson as he continued speaking. 

“I’ll be doing him a favor, really. You’re not fit to take over his throne. You’re a pussy, Hwa. Always have been, always will be.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Seonghwa practically screamed at him. 

It was a side of him that was brand new to you, and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. You wished you were home with him, watching the smile on his face instead of the movie on the screen, hearing his laugh like a song. Not this Seonghwa, covered in blood, dripping sweat, eyes full of hate as he swung his fists. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take over for you. I’ll stay by his side, watching the look on his face as I tell him my version of the story. He won’t know it was me, and I’ll even say I tried to save you. After all, you’re my brother, right?” 

Wooyoung laughed as he dodged Seonghwa’s blows, taunting him ruthlessly, wearing a crooked smile on his face like the devil’s own. 

“You’re not my brother. Not anymore,” Seonghwa spat, cold as ice. 

Wooyoung laughed, shrill and joyful. “That’s the spirit. Now we’re on the same page!” 

Wooyoung landed a fierce uppercut to Seonghwa’s jaw. He fell back, landing hard against the ground, reeling from the blow. Wooyoung’s foot lurched forward, smashing into Seonghwa’s ribs with all of his weight. Seonghwa wretched, coughing wetly as thick strings of red dripped from his lips. Wooyoung kicked him again as you screamed and begged for mercy. 

“Wooyoung please—stop! Please!” you sobbed, trembling and gasping for breath in between cries. 

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll make yours quick.” 

Wooyoung planted a foot against Seonghwa’s cheek, digging and twisting his heel against his face. 

“Can’t say the same for you,” Wooyoung said down to Seonghwa, who was barely clinging to consciousness. He groaned, glaring up at his former brother through heavy eyelids. Wooyoung delivered a final kick to his skull, and Seonghwa stopped moving. 

“No! No, god—no!” 

You screamed and thrashed against the man’s hold on you, forgetting about the hand wrenching your scalp, forgetting about the gun to your head. You screamed until your lungs ached as one of the guys peeled Seonghwa off the ground by his shirt collar. His body was limp, and you felt numb all over as you feared the worst. 

Wooyoung wiped his hands together as one of his guys shoved Seonghwa into the back seat of a car. You sobbed and wailed uncontrollably, digging your fingernails into the fist holding your hair, clawing desperately to get free. The man gave a painful shake to your head, commanding you to be quiet. 

Wooyoung knelt in front of you, and you froze, gasping for breath as you looked at him with wide eyes. His expression softened, and he brought a bloodied hand to your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. You were paralyzed, completely motionless under his touch. 

“I’m really sorry, love. It’s got nothing to do with you. I’ll make it quick, I promise. You don’t deserve to suffer,” he said sweetly, genuinely as he wiped your tears away. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he stood. “See you soon.” 

With that, he turned and hopped into his S Class, leaving a smear of blood against the door handle. Cruel hands dragged you toward another car, your screams piercing the night sky with no answer. You felt a cloth against your mouth, and everything went black. 

The next thing you remembered was waking up on the cold leather seats of the car that had taken you. It took a second for you to regain consciousness, but when you did, the events of the night hit you like a truck. The images flooded in, and it was like reliving it all over again. The dull ache in your chest grew quickly into unbearable anguish, the tears beginning to flow down your cheeks without much warning at all. 

You choked against the fabric gagging your mouth as you sobbed hopelessly. Your heart felt like it’d been ripped from your chest, a wide gaping hole replacing any semblance of hope you still clung to. Your cries echoed uselessly as you thrashed in the backseat of the car, muffled as you tried to scream. Your wrists stung against the zip ties cutting into them, and you quickly gave up trying to get free.

The man in the passenger seat groaned, throwing a menacing glance over his shoulder. “Can this bitch just shut up?”

“I wish Wooyoung would have just taken her out back there,” the driver grumbled. 

You knew there was no getting out of this alive. Your only hope, the only one who knew where you were, was dead. At least, you could only assume he was, or at least he would be soon. You couldn’t forget the sound Wooyoung’s fist had made against Seonghwa’s skin, delivering blow after blow, or the sound of his lifeless body being dragged away as you begged for mercy. The image haunted you relentlessly, every time you closed your eyes, every time you stopped to take a breath through your sobs, you saw him lying on the pavement, cold and bloodied.

You were completely helpless, being transported in some mafia car like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d die scared and alone, surrounded by strangers, with no one left to mourn you. You tried to picture Seonghwa’s face in your mind—the Seonghwa you wanted to remember, the Seonghwa who promised he would protect you no matter what, the Seonghwa who comforted you as you panicked. You tried to picture his soft, gentle smile, the feeling of his hand on your thigh reminding you it was going to be okay, but all you could see was his lifeless body, dripping blood and sweat onto the ground. 

That couldn’t be the way you remembered him. It couldn’t. 

Your hopeless screams turned to quiet, choked sobs as the reality sunk in. None of it mattered anymore—nothing you could do, no amount of thrashing or crying would set you free. Even the scenery flying by in blurred streaks through the window seemed irrelevant. In hours, maybe even minutes, you would cease to exist. If you were lucky, maybe Wooyoung would follow through on his promise of a double grave, but the thought brought you not even an ounce of solace. Your fate was sealed, exactly like Seonghwa’s. It was over. You closed your eyes tight, conjuring his image in your mind the best you could. Just as he had been on the first night you’d met him, he looked entirely unreal in your mind’s eye—too good to be true. Too good to be true. What a joke. You almost wanted to laugh. It was too good to be true, after all. You couldn’t laugh, though, not with this bitter emptiness consuming you like a lost speck of dust in the void. 

“What the hell—“ the driver suddenly shouted, pulling you back into the moment. 

A car drifted in front of you, hurtling closer as it spun its rear into your lane, on trajectory for a collision. The driver slammed on the breaks, and a wave of inertia threw your body forward. You bit your tongue as the car swerved, tasting iron as the wheels skidded and screeched against the highway. The driver cursed as he lost control, frantically turning the wheel as the car’s flank scraped against the guardrail. 

The windshield shattered, erupting into a spray of glass particles that coated the entire car. Gunshots rang out—gunshots?—and you fell against the seat for cover. Not that it really mattered if you died now or later, you thought morbidly. The driver’s window shattered next, a bullet just barely missing his face. 

“Fuck!” 

The man in the passenger seat pulled a gun from his jacket, stretching his arm past the driver to shoot. He pulled the trigger a few times, but the other car still had you flanked, sabotaging his aim as they forced the car against the rail. Your ears rang from the gunshots, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to buffer the sound with your hands. 

The driver jerked the wheel to the side, ramming the car with all his might, metal groaning and screeching in the collision. They pushed and shoved against one another like a high speed arm wrestling match, your body jostling painfully with each impact. There was a sickening jolt as the tires blew, and the car spun out, wheels screaming against the asphalt before finally crashing into the guardrail. 

Everything went still, and the passenger threw his seatbelt over his shoulder, flinging the door open with guns ablaze. He didn’t even fire off two shots before he went down, crumpling to the pavement as he took a bullet between the eyes. The driver aimed out the jagged remains of the windshield, screaming out strings of curse words as he furiously squeezed the trigger. 

Blood splashed across the interior of the car, soaking it in red as the driver went limp. You screamed as blood splattered across your face, the man’s shattered skull a haunting afterimage on the back of your eyelids. Your heart was pounding, body trembling as footsteps approached your side of the car, and the door flung open. You didn’t dare open your eyes as a hand hooked around your elbow, pulling you out of the car against his body with a careful touch. 

“You ok?” a voice asked. You didn’t recognize it, and you kept your eyes tightly shut. Your whole body shook as you hyperventilated, your lungs burning as you gasped desperately for air. 

“Shh, hey, it’s ok! It’s ok, I’m on your side,” the voice soothed, rubbing a hand along your back. “I’m gonna untie you, ok?” 

Your hands fell free as a knife cut through the zip ties holding them together, and he moved to undo the gag next. He gingerly untied the knot behind your head, pulling the wet fabric from your mouth. He brushed your hair out of your face, his tone soft as he spoke.

“There. Hey, can you look at me? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You cracked your eyes open. His face was intimidating, with sharp eyes and an x-shape shaved into one eyebrow, complete with a diamond in the center. His deep blue hair was pushed back impeccably, and he wore a huge leopard fur coat. He looked like another scary mafia guy, and you’d had quite enough of those. Despite his looks, he seemed kind, his expression gentle and eyebrows pinched with concern he surveyed you for injury. 

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.” [to be continued]

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

mirrorball

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word count: 2110

[a/n: thanks for being patient with me! hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! if i forgot to tag you please inbox me]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: Summer 2014

Steve flopped down onto his bed, tired after today's events. Elizabeth softly laid down next to him, Steve wrapped his arm around her bringing her closer to his chest.

"Today was a day," he tiredly says.

"You okay?" She asked him.

After Bucky had left there was a sadness aura that followed Steve for the rest of the party. He had no clue what he had expected Bucky's reaction to be, but definitely not the one he got. He had even prepared himself fo a fight, he was grateful that didn't happen. He just wasn't expecting for Bucky to shut down and leave. Not even accepting his offer of having a conversation later.

He knew that Bucky just needed his space, time to think it all over. But the look on Bucky's face had Steve questioning whether or not he would ever come around.

It threw Steve off when Bucky requested that he breakup with Elizabeth. He couldn't believe his best friend would want his own happiness to suffer.

His whole life he had done everything possible to keep Bucky happy. After what Bucky and his family had to go through with his father, Steve made it his mission to never let his friend feel that way again. Granted he was only 7 when he made that promise to himself, he still kept it.

Steve had never put himself first, at least not until he had made the decision to go to school in California. He had even thought about changing his plans after his breakup with Elizabeth but he knew his parents would've been disappointed with that decision.

He had put Bucky first his entire life, what he's doing isn't selfish. Yet he can't help but feel like the most selfish person ever.

What if he was keeping Elizabeth from truly being happy? What if she just didn't want to break his heart? What if she just didn't want to break his heart during a family event? What if come tomorrow she would tell him the truth, that she was really still in love with Bucky.

He's not sure he could handle that heartbreak.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Elizabeth asked, breaking Steve from his self destructive thoughts.

"I won't be mad if you still love him," Steve says, "I'd understand."

Elizabeth quickly sat up to get a look of Steve's face to make sure he was being serious. It nearly broke her to see how defeated he looked. She's never seen him so down, not even after his breakup with Peggy.

"You don't have to pretend to save my feelings," he continues, "If it meant you were happy, that's all I care about. If being with Bucky makes you happy, then please don't let me stand in the way."

"Oh Steve," she gently caresses his face, staring down at him, "I wasn't lying earlier when I told Bucky that I didn't love him anymore. And i most definitely wasn't lying when I said that I love you, because I do love you, with my whole heart. You make me happy. The happiest I've ever been. Bucky was my past. You are my now, and hopefully my future.

"If you can't see how truly great you are, then I must not be doing my job as not only your girlfriend, but you're friend," she says, "Because you make me feel special every single day. And I just want you to feel the way you've made me feel."

"It's not your fault," Steve softly says, grasping her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Growing up I've always been second to Bucky," he explains, "Everyone seemed to prefer him over me. Whether it was girls or just our friends. It was always Bucky then Steve."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think back on their time growing up. She couldn't help but feel guilty when she realized that everything Steve is saying is true.

After she and Bucky got together, Steve sort of became an after thought, not because they purposefully excluded him, it never crossed their mind simply because Steve also had Peggy at the time. But after Peggy left, Elizabeth never really got to talk to Steve about how he felt, because she got caught up in her own drama.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I should've known then about how you felt. I was so caught up in my own shit, I never realized that you could've been going through your own stuff."

"Liz, it was never your fault," he says, "You were going through your own stuff. And I had learned to suppress it. Plus Bucky was your boyfriend at the time, of course i wasn't really on your mind. Plus it's kind of my fault for allowing it to happen. I never spoke up about it. I just always went along, figuring it was better than nothing."

"Once I got to Berkeley that's when everything changed," his mood shifts a bit to a much lighter feel, "I no longer felt like the shadow of a person. I felt like my own person for the first time ever. I was able to become someone I never thought possible. I am no longer 'scrawny Steve, Bucky's best friend'. I just became 'Steve' or 'Rogers'."

Elizabeth smiled at the way Steve's eyes lit up when talking.

"I had never imagined myself leaving New York, let alone making the permanent move to California," he confesses, "As much as I love it here, California is where I feel I belong. I know you feel it too."

Elizabeth nods her head agreeing with him. She felt the same way, as much as New York was her childhood home, California was where she felt her heart aching for. Where she felt like she belonged, where she could thrive. The more she spent time there, the more it felt like home, that's why moving there wasn't a tough decision for her.

"Coming back here," Steve says, causing Elizabeth to shift back her focus on him, "It just makes me feel like that scrawny kid all over again. I feel like no matter how hard I try to shed that image, Brooklyn will never see me for who I am now, but for who I was then. Like no matter what I do I will always be 'little' Steve Rogers."

"I know you feel it too," he says looking up at her.

She did. She did feel stuck in the past whenever she came back home. It seemed like life stood still here, while outside of Brooklyn everything is moving ahead. She knows it's only because she grew up there, and had nothing to do with Brooklyn itself. Once she was in California, she got a taste of life outside of Brooklyn, and she's not sure if she would want to go back. So moving there was an easier choice for her to make.

"I do," she agrees, "It's why moving to California was an easy decision for me to make."

"I wasn't even sure I was even going to make it to California," he says.

"Why is that?"

"Felt like I was disappointing my parents," he confesses, "We had always discussed me going to Columbia as a pre-med major. That had been the original plan. It wasn't like they were forcing it on me. More like I was forcing it onto myself.

"It was the 'safer' choice, granted the longer one, but in the end it all would've been worth it. For some reason as a child I believed that was the only way my parents would've been proud of me. Regardless of the fact that they were already proud and would tell me constantly. I just put that pressure on myself."

"It wasn't until junior year that Mr. Lawson, my high school art teacher said I should apply to some art schools," he continues, "Then after I had a long discussion with the guidance counselor she agreed as well, saying I would get in no problem with whatever art field I applied in.

"I never really gave my drawing much thought. It was just something I would do. Also a career in art is not exactly financially stable, or at all stable. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply to a couple of schools as an architecture major. Never really gave it a second thought."

Steve pauses, "I did get into Columbia."

"Steve, no fucking way," Elizabeth gasp sitting up straighter, "I never even heard."

"That's because I only told my parents," he says, "I got the acceptance email the same day I got NYU's and Berkeley's, where I hadn't applied as pre-med, which my parents didn't know of at the time."

"Wow," Elizabeth responds feeling herself become speechless. She had only known about NYU and Berkeley. She knew about NYU because that was the plan, they, including Bucky had discussed Freshman year. Back when she was still with Bucky, and Steve with Peggy and they all had planned to stay in New York. Before life got complicated.

"When I did get the Berkeley acceptance I had to come clean to my parents about what major I applied under. I was nervous, because a part of me never told them because I was worried I wouldn't get in. So seeing that acceptance it was the assurance I needed. One that really let me know that I could actually do it. And of course my parents were proud."

"Of course," Elizabeth smiles, "They would've been proud if you had decided to not even go to school and just worked in a restaurant."

"That's true," Steve lets out a small laugh, "And I think I more so didn't want to regret the decision. Leaving home to move across the country for a career that could be unstable. It's scary."

"Do you?" Elizabeth asks.

"Do I what?"

"Do you regret it?"

"Not one bit," he smiles, pulling her back down onto his chest.

They laid there in a comfortable silence. Steve ranking his fingers on Elizabeth's arm, feeling himself grow tired.

"I hope you know you're amazing," Elizabeth quietly says looking up at him with pure admiration in her eyes, "That I think you're amazing. I think you're one of the greatest people I have ever known. And if I have to spend my entire life showing you just how amazing I think you are, I will."

Age: 29

Year: 2023

Location: Santa Barbara, CA

Elizabeth giggled as Steve carried her over the threshold into their hotel room for the weekend. He kicked the door closed as he silenced her giggles with a kiss, before placing her on her feet.

"Why thank-you Mr. Rogers."

"You're very welcome Mrs. Rogers," he smiled brightly at his new wife.

Her makeup was slowly fading, hair no longer perfectly done after a night of dancing with their close loved ones. Steve just stares at her lovingly. He ahs never seen her more beautiful and the fact that he gets to be her husband for the rest of his life, he's never felt luckier.

Elizabeth feels his eyes just on her, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, just admiring my beautiful wife," he compliments, causing Elizabeth to blush.

"How about one more dance?" she asks.

"There's no music."

"When I'm with you there's always music," she says holding her hand out for him.

Steve pulled her to him, one hand grasped in her's, while the other lay on her lower back. Elizabeth's head rested on his chest, with Steve's chin softly resting on the top of it.

"You know I think you're amazing," Elizabeth says as they sway softly in each other's arms.

"You might've told me once or twice," he responds.

"Get used to it because I'm going to be telling you that for the rest of our lives."

"Nothing I want more than that," he kisses the top of her head.

"If you'd asked me to runaway with you to join a circus, I would in a heartbeat," she says.

"Oh really? If I lose my job, and having nothing to show for, you'd still be there?"

"Right next to you baby, every step of the way," she says looking up at him, "Plus you won't have nothing to show. You'll have me. You'll have us. With me by your side I'll make sure you never not know how much you mean to me."

"You've made me believe in love again when I thought it wasn't possible. You've made me love myself in a way that I didn't think were possible. You make me a better human being by just being you. I love you Steve, more than anything.

"So if everything were to go to shit, as long as I have you that's all I need. I'll be there reminding you every single day just how special you are to me."

"I love you," Steve smiles as tears fall from his eyes.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Wolfman’s Dilemma

(Story Post)

Dax was still at work when Wano called him, so he called the doctor’s office to ask if someone could check on his partner before he could get home. Reid volunteered to make a house call as soon as he heard about Nathan's incident. Nathan was still shaken by his partial transformation. He had gone to lie down after a shower like Wano had suggested, but he couldn't rest well. When Reid did arrive, he sat with him in his bedroom and Nathan had a hard time explaining to the doctor exactly what happened because he didn't want to try to remember. “Well, this all sounds like it would be pretty upsetting, so I understand this isn't easy for you,” Reid comforted, after receiving all the details he could. “But if you think about it, this could be a sign of progress.” “No, I know…” Nathan mumbled, wrapped up in a blanket. “I just don’t like the connotations. If my anger is what made that happen, then that could mean I'm very dangerous. More so than ever.”

“We don't know that,” Reid stated, rubbing Nathan's arm. “We don't truly know what caused any of this to happen and unfortunately, yourself and Wano were the only ones witness to it.” “So, then what? Am I supposed to try to make it happen again?” Nathan asked. “Well, not if you don't want to,” Reid explained. “But, it might be best to keep an eye on you for a week or two in case it does occur again involuntarily.” “So, you mean staying at APID,” Nathan sighed. “Even when I'm off wolf cycle…” “I consulted with Dr. Aias before coming here and that was their suggestion, yes,” Reid admitted. Nathan rubbed his forehead. “I guess it's not really a cycle if I start turning into a wolf thing in the middle of the day on off days…” “Again, it's your choice, Nathan,” Reid insisted. “Camilo's coming by as well to talk to you as this pertains to your case. He might make other suggestions for you.” Nathan nodded. His phone went off and he checked it. “Dax just got off work and he's coming straight home…” “That's great,” Reid commented. “And your language suggests the relationship is pretty serious. I'm glad it's working out.” “My language?” “Aye, you said he's coming home,” Reid said. “You have separate residences, don't you?” “Yeah, well… I can't handle the twins on my own, it's too much, and I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered for Wano to stay here,” Nathan said. “Dax has been…the glue keeping this hell house together and keeping me from going insane. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't around.” Reid smiled and shook Nathan's shoulder enthusiastically. “See? I knew you two would be good for each other. Aren't you glad you went for it?” Nathan chuckled lightly. “I suppose I am… I guess I just didn't feel like I deserved someone new yet… And I feel bad dragging him into this whirlwind of a life I have right now.” “Nathan, you're a bit too selfless,” Reid commented. “Dax wouldn't be with you if he didn't want to be. The people around you are around you because they like and care about you.” “I know, I know… I just...” Nathan sighed. “No, you're right.” “Anyhow, I can stay until Dax or Camilo arrives, however long you'd like,” Reid said. “Wano seems to be doing well with the twins. Is he a good babysitter?” “Yeah, they love him,” Nathan said. “I think it might be maybe the depth of his voice? I don't know. He follows instruction well enough and he loves to play with them. Maybe he'll be a good dad… Did he explain why we got into an argument?” Reid nodded slowly. “Aye… Trying to make a wee one before he's gone. I can understand your frustration. Wouldn't want that happening under my roof, if I had one.” “Right? I get that he's an adult and he can do what he wants, but also I'm partially responsible for him because I'm letting him stay here,” Nathan said. “If Jeffrey gets pregnant, I have no idea how that'll complicate Wano's case to stay here.” “Well, at the end of the day, these really are things that should concern Wano himself more than you,” Reid reminded. “You’re doing a really nice thing, letting him stay here with you but you don't have to shoulder all his problems. They're not yours and you're not his father.” “I know, you're right,” Nathan sighed again. “I just want to see him get to stay here. He's worked hard to stay. He's improved a lot.” Reid smirked as he observed Nathan. “You know, the wolf might have something to do with this. Sometimes animals who've just given birth will adopt newborns of other species, even if they're an animal they'd usually pray on, like a lioness adopting an oryx, or vice versa, a chicken adopting a kitten. Only for you, your adopted newborn is a full-grown adult alien from another planet.” “I can't help it if he has the emotional intelligence of a twelve-year-old,” Nathan said. “But it's even more reason he shouldn't be having a kid!” “You can't make that decision for him, though,” Reid said. “And you can't make that decision for Jeffrey either. At the very least, one of them has experience as a parent…” “From what I've heard though, his cousin does most of the caregiving…” Nathan mumbled. “Och, you need to stop concerning yourself with them,” Reid said. “You can put your foot down about what goes on in your house, but outside of that, you can't be meddling in their business.” Nathan nodded. “…I bet Jeffrey’s pregnant already anyway…” Reid rubbed his back. “Come downstairs for when Camilo arrives. Eat something. I’d like to see the wee twins again. How're they holding up?” “They're alright…” Nathan said getting up. “I probably should feed them, but Grace refuses to nurse unless she's a pup, but she bites me…” Reid followed him. “Do you pump?” “I do, but they refuse to take bottles from me,” Nathan said. “Dax? Wano? No problem because they have no other choice. But me, all they want is tit. Am I going to have breasts my whole life now?” “We can worry about that later, and you can take my word from personal experience that breast tissue can be dealt with,” Reid assured, chuckling a bit. “Ah, right… Yeah, I guess,” Nathan considered. “Anyway, Wano should be playing with the twins right now… He lets them bite his arms and legs and stuff because he thinks it'll toughen them up but I'd rather he didn't normalise it… I'll show you.” “Aye. Please.” They got downstairs and Nathan broke up the playfighting so Reid could take a look at the twins. They both turned to human for him which he was a bit unhappy about because he really liked to study their animal sides, but he acknowledged that it was good training that they remain human in the presence of strangers. Camilo arrived a little later and they talked in the kitchen while Wano showed off the twins to Reid in the living room. Nathan explained everything he could to Camilo about what had happened. “That is a very new development indeed,” Camilo commented as he took notes into a tablet. “We haven't seen any kind of half transformation like this… Have you asked Nari yet if he knows of werewolves like that?” “He's away on a vacation right now,” Nathan said. “I don't want to bother him with this at all until he's back…” Camilo nodded. “I understand… Well, right now since this is a one-time incident, I don't know that there's much we can do. But, now that we know it's possible, I'd ask you and those around you to video document this type of transformation if it should happen again.” “So, you don't think I should be watched?” Nathan asked. “Well, I don’t know that it's absolutely necessary, but if that's what you want, you could stay a few nights at APID,” Camilo considered. “It's up to you.” Nathan shook his head. “I want to stay home... But only if you really think it's safe.” Camilo patted Nathan's arm. “You didn't hurt anyone, you just transformed. Since having your wolf cycle nights at APID, we haven't observed any violent behaviour at all, only a bit of protective behaviour towards your kids.” “Dax said the wolf bit Dr. Aias once,” Nathan said. “Ah, well yes, but that was just because they needed to draw blood,” Camilo acknowledged. “Wasn’t that the night of Wano’s incident?” “Yes, it was…” Nathan sighed, not enjoying the thought. “Right, it’s possible you could tell your friend was in trouble that night and you were restless. Wolves have exceptional sense of smell. You might’ve smelled blood,” Camilo hypothesised. “You're really okay. Seems as long as the wolf is well fed, they don't hunt.” Nathan exhaled. “Okay… Yeah… Thanks.” “Don't worry,” Camilo assured him. “Your support system is great, and we aren't afraid of you. Everyone is here to help you.” “I get it, I just wish I knew someone else who was going through all this like me,” Nathan said. “I at least had Kent for a hot second, but now I have no one… My kids aren't even the same as me They just transform whenever they please.” Camilo pursed his lips. “Well, maybe you're not alone…” Nathan perked up. “Is there someone else? With APID? Another werewolf? Or were-anything?” “Well, no… I just meant, um…” Camilo waved a hand. “Well, you know, there's the wolf we caught on your bodycam that night.” “Oh." Nathan frowned. “But they attacked me. I still have the scars.” “Yes, but if we tracked them down, we might have answers for you,” Camilo suggested. “Well, maybe… I don't, know. I feel like we tried that lead and it got me nowhere. And pregnant.” “Yeah…” Camilo folded his hands. “But if we could find someone with a similar affliction as you willing to talk with you, you would want that, right?” “Yes, if it's possible, yes,” Nathan said. “The only person I know that's as close to my condition as me is Dax but his thunderbird situation is still very different.” Camilo nodded. “Okay. Can you come in for a meeting tomorrow? I want us to talk more about your options, but I also want to consult with Korsgaard about some stuff beforehand.” “Yeah, for sure,” Nathan said nodding. “Honestly, I talk to you so much, I forget Korsgaard’s my actual case worker…” “Yeah, he does do a lot of work behind the scenes, but he's looking into potentially retiring soon,” Camilo admitted. “I think he's holding out until Maya's grown.” “I get it,” Nathan said. “Do you think you'll take his place?” “Honestly, I don't really know,” Camilo said. “I mean, I like it, and it's been great work while I've been in school, but once I finish my PhD, I might look around… I want to stay at APID though.” Nathan smirked. “PhD classes, a job like this, and a baby at home? Are you sure you're only human?” Camilo smiled sheepishly and rubbed his neck. “I'm just trying my best…” “I could never…” He motioned to the living room where Wano was flexing with the animal twins gnawing on his arms. Reid was just sitting by, taking notes of his observations. “I can't imagine trying to get through my masters when I was your age if I had these two on my hip…” “Should we do something?” Camilo asked worriedly. “No, Wano likes it,” Nathan said. “He calls it ‘warrior play’. It's been really difficult trying to train bite inhibition and I’m so tired all the time, it's easier to just let them do whatever exhausts them…” “I see. It'll take time,” Camilo said. “Have you talked to Yori about it? They might not be exactly the same, but there's likely some issues he's had with the triplets.” “Yes, trust me, Dax has learned a lot from having the triplets in his class,” Nathan recounted. “The very first day of school, Skylar bit a kid that touched her granola bar and later Marco ate his own homework. We've been in contact with Yori's partners, because the kids just seem to fall in line for Yori without much trouble.” “Oh, I see…” At that time, the front door opened, and Dax came inside looking worried. “Nathan, I’m sorry I couldn't leave sooner!” Nathan got up from his seat and went over to hug Dax around the waist. “It's okay. Reid and Camilo have been here to talk to me.” “Ah, good! Are you alright?” Dax looked over his partner for traces of the transformation described to him over the phone. “You look okay, but are you?” “Yeah, I'm fine now,” Nathan said. “Talking to these guys has calmed my nerves a lot and the transformation didn't last more than a minute.” Dax nodded. “Good.” He kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you're okay. And the twins are alright?” “Yep, they're still their usual selves,” Nathan said, motioning to the pair now climbing onto Wano's back and jumping off like goat kids. “I think if anything, my transformation made them excitable.” “That probably makes sense, I think,” Dax said. “Reacting to your transformation I mean.” Reid got up and came over. “Nathan, if you don't need me any longer, I should probably head out.” Nathan nodded and shook Reid’s hand. “Yes, thank you for coming over on such short notice.” “Don't mention it,” Reid insisted. He patted Dax's arm. “Good to see you too, Dax.” “Likewise,” Dax said politely. “Drive safe.” “Aye.” Reid headed out the door. “I should probably get going too,” Camilo said. “Nathan, can we get you in for a meeting first thing at ten?” “Yeah, sounds good,” Nathan confirmed. “I'll see you there.” “Alright, see you,” Camilo said going to the door. “You take care of him, Dax. We're trusting you.” “Don't you worry, I'll be here,” Dax assured. Camilo smiled and waved. “Bye!” “See you tomorrow,” Nathan said as the assistant left. Dax went to see them off and then made sure the door was locked properly before going back to his partner. “Tomorrow, would you like me to join you?” Nathan looked at Dax and contemplated it. “Usually I'd say no, but if you can spare the time, I would appreciate it…” Dax smiled and kissed Nathan's forehead again. “I'll be there, don't worry.” “Thank you,” Nathan said. He took Dax's hand and squeezed it gently. “I appreciate you so much.” “Also on the phone,” Dax recalled. “Wano said you got upset because he’s trying to make a ‘legacy’ with Jeffrey.” He motioned the air quotes. “Do you want me to talk to him about that?” Nathan sighed, glancing over to Wano, now rubbing both twins’ bellies. “No… At least not tonight… Just let him be. It’s not our business at the end of the day. I made it clear though that he can’t have guests here without permission.” Dax nodded and gave Nathan a proper kiss this time. “You’re going to be alright.” “Thanks. I hope so…”

[biot08]

FFXIV Character Sheet

with love given to @bluespiritfire (original here!)

Name: Zoissette Vauban / Zo

Age: High 30s

Pronouns: She/her

Birthdate: I forget, but it’s on her in-game paper doll

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Ishgardian Wildwood Elezen Hometown/city: Ishgard Current residence/popular haunt: Work for the Maelstrom, so has barracks space in Limsa Lominsa. Works for Gage Acquisitions, so sometimes crashes on the couch at their HQ in the Goblet. Her parents still live in Ishgard, and so she can also couch-crash there

~~APPEARANCE~~ Eyes: Brown Hair: Black with purple highlights Hair type: Straight and thinnish Hair style: Short undercut Body type: Athletic, the wiry kind; muscles of steel cable Height: Tall Skin: Light brown Facial features: Nothing notable Body features: Shortish ears for an Elezen

Favourite/commonly used clothes: That beautiful skirt and jacket combo that Tataru made for her when she is being casual. The heavier dark jacket and sabatons that Tataru made when she has serious business knight work to do.

~~SKILLS~~ DoL/DoH Dabbles in the entire list of DoL/DoH skills for self-sustainability purposes, but has no real talent for any of it

~~COMBAT~~ Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin (she will never refer to herself as a Paladin; her training is that of an Ishgardian knight); her other main discipline is arcanist/scholar

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Red mage and machinist (in-game, she also has NIN, but that’s more because I like the class and less because it’s appropriate for the character)

Fighting style She shifts between hard-and fast and defensive/protective as a knight. She appears reckless to the inexperienced, but she very much knows what she is doing. As a scholar, she is tactical, and very wait-watch-and-see.

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Red mage is the only magical discipline she is extremely good at, because it relies heavily on her physicality (channeling with precise rapier work) and on her personal mana pool. She is awful at drawing in external aether. Her magics as a scholar also lean heavily on her ability to work with the summoned fairy construct to do the bulk of the aether work while she performs the necessary manipulations and calculations. As a result, she was merely a middling arcanist, but is a very good scholar.

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~ Analytical, cunning, curious. She can be impulsive, but it is not because she is not considering the consequences, but often because she is very interested in what they will actually be. She is very self-assured in general.

~~LIKES~~ Environment: A warm home with a warm fire. She does find Ul’dah’s dry environment endearing after the snowscapes of Coerthas post-calamity. She tolerates Limsa. Weather: Warm days Flavours: Nuts greens meats and fruits Textures: Cotton or wool Favourite Dish: Meat pot pies of any sort. They can be well made, and that’s great. Or the can be mediocre, but easily portable and reheatable on the front lines, and that’s also great. Favourite Colour: Purple Favourite Sound: The utter silence of the soundscape during a lull on the front of the dragonsong war provides her with strong mixed feelings that have turned nostalgic. The way snow dampens sound and makes for a particular kind of quiet night is eerie, but dragons tend to be very loud; as a result, the eerieness was overridden by the knowledge of a promise of a good night’s rest Favourite Smell: Hot meat pie straight out of the hearth Favourite Place: The little fort outpost she was ‘in charge’ of and responsible for for a great deal of her adult life. She can’t go back, but she has fond memories of the place Favourite Holiday: The new ones they’re inventing celebrating the  end of the dragonsong war and the beginning of a new promise of peace

~~DISLIKES~~ Environment: Snowy environs. She’s had enough of that for several lifetimes. Weather: Snoooooow Flavours: Gamey. You get a lot of gamey meat on the front. Textures: Weirdly, finds silk to be entirely too slippery Least Favourite Dish: Ishgardian knight hardtack. It’ll feed you, but you’ll regret it the entire time. Least Favourite Colour: White, though she has no strong opinion here Least Favourite Sound: Bells. Too many alarm bells in her life. Least Favourite Smell: No strong opinions here Least Favourite Place: Coerthas. Even though her most favourite place is there Least Favourite Holiday: Doesn’t really have one, though she ignores several; this is less dislike and more apathy

~~HOBBIES~~ Reads voraciously, both for research and as a hobby. Finds working out invigorating. Does not skip leg day. Never saw a mountain that didn’t need someone to at least attempt to scale it. Pretty fond of fucking around (and often finds out, which is also fun)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: Mother and father. While no longer Ishgardian nobility, the Inquisition merely stripped them of house titles and colours, but did not excommunicate them. They live in the repaired parts of Ishgard now, as commoners Siblings: Second oldest of seven Children: Nope Romantic: Single, about to be complicated (for tax and guild fee purposes) Friends: Picks up acquaintances easily enough, thanks to an easy going personality and willingness to just generally roll with things. Has few truly close friends, though, due to having a tendency to keep a bit of a distance. Loyal for life once past that point, though. Rivals/Enemies: No rivals, but there are definitely people among the noble families of Ishgard who she would count as enemies. Not enough to truly go after or do anything about, but people who she is, at best, cold towards if she ever has to interact with them. She gets on well with Alphinaud, as the two complement each other, his diplomacy making up for her lack of it, and her foresight making up for his frequent naivete. She snarks with Y’shtola and the two often banter like old maids. She merely has a working relationship with Thancred, but it’s not cold; it’s just not a close friendship, either. Tataru finds her vexing. Estinien and her have a deeply shared understanding that comes from both being front line participants in the dragonsong war. Krile and her do not understand one another, and tend to settle for just being cordial. She finds Urianger likeable, and gently needles him at times, and doesn’t always realise when he’s doing it back.

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? She will, without fail, ask Lennier if he’s been working out, and will swoon when he performs physical feats (squats, pushups, etcetera) nearby.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~ Definitely has some PTSD. Also, her entire family has gone from lesser nobility to commoners with a status that, until recently, left a bad mark on their name (their status as a minor house was lost when the inquisition found evidence that some members of the family, cousins in relation to Zoissette, were hertetics). She keenly feels the disruption of life in Ishgard due to the end of the dragonsong war, but does not quite know how or what to feel about it.

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? She sleeps lightly and poorly and generally pretends she doesn’t have a problem

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons Not really. Any sword is still a chunk of metal made with lethal intent

Notable Mounts An Ishgardian raised Chocobo, of course, for the most part. If she is travelling into danger, the Magitek armor, while defanged, is still a walking tank. If she has to fly somewhere, the manacutter from the Ironworks is just plain fun to fly

Notable Minion/s She has come to value Midgardsomr’s council and will travel with him as he is willing

Keepsakes/Mementos ... the Fortemps Shield.

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities None

Education Level The same schooling most Ishgaridan noble family knights get to enjoy. She did a lot of self-study, because she found it interesting, but it was also part of a continuous bid to try to be accepted in the astrologian guild; however, due to House politics, she was never accepted. Fortunately, when she left home due to the situation after the inquisition investigation, the Limsa Lominsan arcanists were more than happy to take her on and guide her studies further. Generally her studies started with things she thought would be helpful for the war effort; history, strategy, logistics, and tactics. Since then she has dabbled in any of  dozen different subjects, learning few of them deeply, but being at least conversational in a great many of them

Habits I should probably come up with some!

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -6- Carter Hart

A/N: Hey guys, I’m still alive lol. AND DHM IS FINALLY BACK!!! Buckle up my loves, things are finally starting to happen. I’m super excited for where this story is going, and I can’t wait for yall to see it all unfold! 

As always, all previous parts are linked in my master list!

"Y/N, can I move yet?” Nolan asked you. 

“Hang on,” You started to chew on your lip as you continued to draw, “Move your head a little to the right? Yeah! Like that, the shadows are good like that.”

“Sorry Patty, I offered to be a nude model or whatever.”

“Travis shut up. No one wants to see that.”

Travis laughed from the kitchen. For one of your classes, you had to draw a portrait of someone, unfortunately for Nolan, he’d volunteered to sit for one. Although, you knew he didn’t exactly think that this was going to take this long. He thought it would take a few minutes at most, not over an hour.

“Nolan stop laughing! I’m almost done.”

You didn’t even notice that someone else had walked in until a cup of coffee from your favorite place down the road was put in front of you. You didn’t look over your shoulder, you already knew who it was, but you couldn’t help the simple smile that crept across your face. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. 

“Thank you.”

“Woah, she actually said two words to him,” Nolan said in sheer surprise. 

“And they were nice!” Travis added. 

“Shut up. Nolan I swear to god if you move one more time I will beat you with a stick.”

“That looks really good,” Carter said from behind you, ignoring what his teammates were saying. 

You hummed and began to drag your pencil across the page again. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still standing behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence. A small part of your brain started to wonder what it would be like if he just wrapped his arms around you. You almost wanted it. 

You tried to snap yourself out of it. But the longer he was there, the more you wanted to just be closer to him. You had no idea what was going on. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do things like this. You didn’t need anyone else. 

“For your class?” Carter asked. 

“Yeah. Nolan was a better choice than Travis. At least he can sit still for more than five minutes, and be quiet.”

“Rude,” Travis mumbled.

Your body seemed to almost tingle from how close Carter was to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. You didn't do things like this. You could control everything. But this, this didn’t feel like something you could control. Your body seemed to be taking over from your head.  You didn’t know how to handle this anymore. Everything seemed to be cloudy and unclear now. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, okay, done.”

“Yeah? I can eat now?” Nolan asked. 

You weren’t done. You were far from done, but you needed to put space between you and Carter before you did something potentially stupid. All you could think of was getting his arms around you. You wanted to be close to him in a way that you knew was an awful idea. 

“Yeah, go do whatever Nols, I can do the finishing touches without you modeling for me,” You laughed, trying to sound normal again. 

He nodded and moved on. You wanted to go hide now. You wanted to get away from Carter. The buzzing tingly feeling was spreading throughout my whole body. You had no idea what was really going on. All you knew was that you were starting to feel things for Carter that you shouldn’t feel. 

Everything seemed to be blurred now. There were lines you weren’t meant to cross, you knew that, but where were they? What fell into the category of things not to do? Because strangely enough, all you wanted to do now was let yourself sink into Carter’s arms, and just stay there for the rest of the day, and that’s something you absolutely couldn’t do.  

You didn’t want to leave the boys behind, but you also knew that you needed to get some air before your body took over and made you do something you knew would lead to some serious trouble.

“I’m going to go get some food, does anyone want anything?”

“Just sit your little ass down, I’ll make lunch,” Travis told me, pointing to the couch. 

You huffed and plopped back down onto the couch.  Carter was on the other end. Too close for comfort, or maybe not close enough for your body to be comfortable. You couldn’t understand what was going on, how your body was reacting to this. You weren’t meant to like Carter Hart. You’d sworn off hockey players after the last time, that didn’t mean you could just drop everything for Carter. You wouldn’t drop everything for him. You’d figure out how to get yourself to stop feeling whatever you were feeling for him. You weren’t going to do this again. 

“When do you leave for that road trip?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Nolan replied, “We’ll try not to let you get beat to hell, Carter.”

You tried to laugh with them. But the idea of any of them potentially getting hurt made your stomach twist. You hated when they went on road trips because it meant that something might happen and you wouldn’t be there. You weren’t their protector, you knew that. But them being gone also meant they wouldn’t be here for you, should you need them.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Travis said, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You forced a smile, “Maybe that’s what I’m worried about..”

“Liar,” Travis smiled sadly at you and pulled you in for a hug.

What you didn’t notice was how Carter was looking at you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should heed TK’s warning and stay away from you, all for your sake. But you had a way of drawing him in, and making him want to know more about you. He wanted to be a part of the close inner circle you’d built with TK and Patty. He couldn’t explain it, he had girls throwing themselves at him all of the time, but for some reason he wanted you. 

The shy girl who hid under baggy sweatshirts and didn’t seem to notice how amazing you could truly be. Everytime he was near you he thought about the night he had to bring you back to his apartment after that stupid party. 

You’d started screaming and crying in your sleep. He’d never tell you that, but he didn’t sleep on the floor of his bedroom because you were getting sick all night. It was because something was haunting you, causing you to wake up screaming. It’d scared the shit out of him. 

He’d automatically called TK and begged him to tell him what to do, or tell him what happened. But TK was quick to tell him that it was your story to share, and if you ever wanted Carter to know, you’d tell him. But that didn’t stop Carter from constantly worrying about the girl in front of him.

“You said you were going to make food,” You mumbled, poking Travis’s stomach. 

“So needy.”

“You’re the one who decided to call me when I moved here,” You pointed out, “Brought this on yourself.”

“Fine,” Travis sighed dramatically, “What do you guys want?”

“Pasta!” You were quick to say, “A big heaping plate of that buttered garlic pasta you make.”

Travis smacked Nolan on his way over to the kitchen, telling him that he needed help. That left you and Carter all alone. You felt uncomfortable, because you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure how you were meant to even talk to him. 

Everything just seemed too strange to you now.

“So, how’re classes going?” Carter asked you. 

You shrugged and brought your knees up to your chest, “They’re alright. I’ll be happy when the break rolls around.”

He laughed, “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the All Star break.”

You nodded. Travis and Nolan talked about how wonderful breaks were all the time. Their schedule was more than grueling, so you knew time off was more than precious for them. If they didn’t go off somewhere tropical to just relax, it was rare that they’d even leave their rooms. 

Even in lower level juniors, your brother always treasured whatever time off he could get. Some of the things all of you would do during breaks were honestly astounding, and probably borderline illegal, but that was years ago.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t really like hockey, do you?” He suddenly asked you. 

“What? No! I love it.”

“Really? Sorry, you just don’t seem like it.”

You swallowed and tried to plan your reply, “No, I love it. I’ve grown up on it. It’s just my relationship with hockey is…..complicated.”

You felt like you might throw up. Having to explain it felt different. You could watch games just fine now, not that you always liked to watch in person, but you could watch them. You could talk about them, and give Travis shit for hours about things he’d done. But having to explain your reasonings for being why you were the way that you were...it seemed impossible. 

He already saw you differently, you could tell by the way he looked at you. You were sure that he saw you as someone wounded and broken. You didn’t want him to have another reason to see you differently. Carter was one of the few people that didn’t know, and he didn’t need to know. You could keep him in the dark, you would keep him in the dark. 

“I love hockey,” You said again, “I wouldn’t know Travis without it. I love hockey.”

“Okay,” His voice was calm, like he was trying to calm you, “Okay. I’m sorry I asked.”

You tried to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes. You weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to show how much pain that simple question brought on. Your stomach churned and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. 

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

However, rather than going to the hall bathroom, like you normally would. You quickly made your way back into Travis’s bathroom, far enough away from the living room that you wouldn’t be heard. Especially over the sound of Travis and Nolan in the kitchen, and the music they’d put on. 

Without having a chance to try to stop it, you hunched over the toilet and threw up. You were shaking and crying. A simple question, one that no one else would’ve thought twice about. Any normal person would have a smile yes or no answer. You couldn’t answer simply though. Not without opening a door to something you liked to keep locked away.

You loved hockey….you just didn’t love what hockey had done to you.

[chaotic-tired-cat]

world walker to date is one of my most favorite fanfics ever. it's so well-written! not too op, with real difficulties and plot, but still light-hearted and funny! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 i hope life smoothens out for you so we can get an update of this awesome story! :D :D :D

Aaaa thanks Anon!! This ask made me super happy - I'm glad you like World Walker and that it hit the right balance between angst and comedic moments (tbh that's one of the things that's really hard to get right). Things are still hectic but as soon as they're not that chapter is getting finished!!!

Since it might be a while, have a post-World Walker scene from the pov of a couple civilians. It was written to try out Cryptid as Izuku's hero name (/^o^)/

(Note: this scene isn't canon to World Walker and was written before I knew how the story would end.)

“Why do you even think this is going to work?” Yua hovers around Mariko’s efforts in the Denny’s parking lot, careful to avoid stepping on the complicated design taking place under Mariko’s second piece of chalk. The first one was sacrificed to ward off a raccoon. They specifically chose to do this after midnight for the ambiance, but Yua is starting to have second thoughts.

It’s very dark, and they’re both fem-presenting teenagers with emitter quirks in a deserted part of town.

This is not a good place to be.

“I got the pattern off a hero,” Mariko assures her. “You know how I was in the gym when Uravity's fight hit school, right?”

Yes, and Yua is trying desperately to forget the worst day of her life, thank you.

“Uravity and Cryptid dug me out, but it was weird, because he drew this symbol on a piece of the roof and it just- stayed. In the air. Even when nothing was supporting it.” Mariko pauses, beaming at the magic circle that’s mostly made of lines and squiggles to complete the aesthetic. One of the symbols doesn't look right. It slides out of focus, and Yua carefully steps back, because hell no.

“How is that supposed to help us summon a ghost-”

“Finished! Start filming, hurry, hurry, hurry!” Mariko drops her piece of chalk as Yua scrambles to swipe open her camera. Before Yua can stop her, Mariko has drawn a pocket knife, cut the pad of her thumb, and is smearing blood on the unsanitary parking lot ground.

Delightful.

Her hand is going to get so infected.

That’s right about when the air above the circle tears itself apart.

Mariko shrieks. Yua almost runs, then remembers herself and makes sure her phone is pointed at the sliver of starlight shining out of thin air. She knows her horror film tropes. Whatever they released into the world is taking them first, but she can at least get a video account to warn people of what they did.

Eaten by a demon or some shit. That’s a bomb-ass obituary.

Pro Hero Cryptid crashes out of the portal, one hand protectively wrapped around a bowl half-full of salad. His Uravity sweatshirt mostly obscures Froppy sweatpants, but Yua is more alarmed by the fact that Cryptid looks surprisingly human. No needle-sharp teeth, no starlit eyes. Spinach flutters to the ground around the hero in a gentle shower of greenery that nestles in his curly hair as if adding to the foliage. He stares blankly at them, then at the scribbles under his feet, before pointing a truly pissed-off look at the sky.

“Are you serious?” Cryptid yells at the city skyline. A spinach leaf falls off his shoulder. “Right in front of my salad?”

“Holy shit,” Yua whispers, and discovers that she can, in fact, be more embarrassed than the time their teacher made the whole class sing ‘Happy Birthday’ while she stood in silent mortification on a chair. “We summoned him.”

Mariko claps both hands over her mouth to keep in her laughter, eyes wide. “We really did.”

This seems to draw the hero’s attention back to them.

“You two okay? Yes? Nobody’s hurt? Oh, thank goodness.” Cryptid stabs a fork into his vegetables, shoves it into his mouth, and makes grabby hands for the chalk. Mariko passes it over with a potent mix of awe and glee.

“I am so sorry,” Yua breathes.

Mariko sniffs. “I’m not.”

“And I’m glad to be summoned,” Cryptid finishes with a sunshine-smile. He’s very… human. The wrinkled eyebrows he directs at Mariko’s chalk art do not resemble the otherworldly creature that showed up during All Might’s last battle. “Better for me to be dropped here than for y’all to get… hm. Yeah, this is good.”

Hm?

Hm??

What does ‘hm’ mean?

Yua reaches over and frantically swats at Mariko’s sweatshirt in an attempt at telepathically communicating her many, many feelings concerning accidentally summoning a hero into this godsforsaken Denny’s parking lot.

“How did you find a stasis glyph?” Cryptid mumbles around his fork.

“Copied it from you. My quirk lets me mimic actions if I see them without blinking.” Mariko peers around his shoulder at the lines taking form.

“That’s such a cool quirk,” Cryptid tells her instantly. “Do you need a clear line of sight? Is it only capable of copying real-life actions or can you use recordings? Oh, are you limited to your own flexibility and strength, or is this a mirror skill instead of a mimic? You could use that for anything, it’s a very adaptable power.”

Yua cautiously edges closer to give the camera a better angle at the ground while Mariko preens. “What are you even doing?”

“Editing. Here, look- right there, you tied it down with intent contrary to the meaning.” Cryptid shuffles over so she can see and points out a circled section. He smudges out the blurry patch.

Mariko watches eagerly as the hero replaces it with a mishmash of lines that Yua can actually make sense of. “I don’t understand any of what you just said, but hell fuckin’ yeah, you funky lil’ cryptid.”

“Oh, sorry. I get called whenever the void gets angry, and this is the language it speaks,” Cryptid says, like this makes sense. He taps the lines eagerly. “Put a stasis glyph on the ground and continents will stop shifting, which is a whole lot of bad news."

"Uh huh," Mariko says. Yua swats at her again, because there's no way she understands and going along with this for entertainment value alone is going to get them into some sort of horror movie B-Plot.

Cryptid just looks amused. "Next time you need to experiment, use a paper base instead of the concrete. It’s safer. And- is that blood?”

“Maybe,” Mariko says, partially as a dare for him to say anything because she isn’t really the type to listen to anyone, regardless of if they’re a hero. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Huh. Yeah, you got me there.” Cryptid puts his bowl of salad on the ground and fishes around in his Uravity sweatshirt for a tiny med kit.

“Where’d we go wrong,” Mariko asks, like they are ever going to try this again. Yua hisses for her to stop and is ignored with the extreme confidence of someone determined to keep making the same continuous mistake until success is summoned through stubborn willpower alone.

“You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” Cryptid bandages her hand, slips away the medkit, and says gravely, “Blood never brings anything good.”

“Holy shit,” Yua repeats as Cryptid takes a bite of salad and goes right back to his art project like this happens every other Tuesday. Mariko glares at her, but honestly, this is the wildest thing.

The hero keeps saying things.

“Not to lecture either of you, but it’s a bad idea to mess around with unborn languages without supervision.” Cryptid hands back the chalk and takes another bite of his salad. “This stuff can blow up in your face. So, can I escort you guys anywhere? Because it’s a little dark and this isn’t exactly the safest part of town.”

That’s about when Yua realizes something under the spinach is glowing.

[offspring-of-calliope]

Pins and Needles (Newsies Gang AU)

Chapter 3

Description: Davey's and Les' first day as Newsies and they already meet the famous Katherine Plumber.

words: 1675

warnings: There's no warnings on this chapter but if I did miss something triggering, feel free to tell me.

A/N: I know that there are only approximately two people and a shoelace who are even interested in this story but still - I'm sorry for not having updated this in ages. I kinda had a big writer's block which I've overcame for now, I guess, but we'll see how long that may last.

Also, just stating the obvious here but considering latest complications between my gender and me, I changed my username from "daughterofcalliope" to "offspring-of-calliope", I hope that's not too confusing.

As always, feel free to tell me if I've made some mistakes considering grammar or spelling. Comments in general are very appreciated.

I hope you enjoy it at least a little bit,

Sincerely me,

Lélo

-----

If David had thought that the Manhattan Newsies had been loud before, now he was convinced that the concept of volume got a whole new meaning when being around these boys. Selling with them was like sitting in the front row of an opera performance you hadn't even planned to attend.

David sighed. His thoughts were so misleading that he feared that people who he'd tell them to might think he hated the Manhattan Newsies. It was quite the opposite. Despite his urge to keep everything in order, to not overstep boundaries and to behave like a mature boy his age, being with the chaos that were the Manhattan Newsies filled his insides with joy.

The people he talked to at school couldn't really classify as real friends, seeing as their discussions were always aimed at topics they'd covered in their lessons or some other things that didn't relate a lot to something like free time. They were always so serious and David sometimes felt as if the other people didn't even want to talk to him more than absolutely necessary. With the Newsies, it was different. Some of them were even regularly trying to include him in their conversations, to find out about him as a person. Ironically, every one of them seemed to make a better spy than him, who couldn't even think of important questions to ask them that would lead to something that Sarah could work with.

Right after leaving the circulation gate, some kids named Kid Blink – a guy with an eyepatch and a charming smile –, Race – who constantly had an unlit cigar dangling between his lips – and Jojo – who had the most animated facial expression David had ever witnessed – had pestered him to tell them if Italian or Spanish was the more beguiling language. (While they'd been bickering, David had started to regret telling them that he was currently teaching himself Spanish. That had been the trigger that had started his inclusion to the debate.) The whole conflict had been postponed when a guy named Romeo had loudly declared that neither Spanish nor Italian was the real answer and that no language was as enthralling as his love language. Then, he'd proceeded to lure a pretty woman to buy a paper from him – the other Newsies were too nice to make him aware of the fact that she'd only bought the pape to escape his flirting – by sweetly talking in a language David didn't know. (It had been Tagalog, as Jack had later explained to him.)

Yet in his defence, David had also managed to overhear some conversations that hadn't been for him to hear – cue his bad conscience. One conversation in particular had irritated him. Some redhead – Albert was his name, he distantly recalled – had at one point asked Race if “it was cloudy up there”. That in itself hadn't been confusing since it was indeed very cloudy this day but Race's answer had been: “Oh, don't worry, I was just thinkin' 'bout somethin'. Everything's sunny as could be.” The sun didn't even shine! But maybe that was just a code David simply didn't understand.

“Sing 'em to sleep, will ya?” A voice was breaking through his thoughts and David only now registered that he had been blaring the words “Extra, extra! Does somebody want a paper?” for quite some time without actively concentrating on actually selling some newspapers.

The owner of the voice, Jack, - because of course it was Jack, why did Jack always seem to be near him? - took the most recent newspaper from his hand and exclaimed: “Extra, extra! Terrifying flight from burnin' inferno! You can hear the story right here!” It didn't take long for some guy to come and buy the paper.

David scoffed. “This story isn't even in the paper.”

“Well, I didn't say that, did I?” Jack retorted, a cheeky grin on his face.

“My father taught us not to lie,” David said, clutching the remaining newspapers in his hand tighter. He didn't want Jack to take papers from him again, or else it might become a habit for the other boy.

Jack only shook his head, holding one of his own papers into the air. “And mine taught me not to starve. Seems we both got an education.”

“Jack, Jack, look how few papes I got left now! I did everything you said I should do and the people just wouldn't stop buying the papes!” An excited Les ran over to them, smiling brightly and holding up some money for David to put away. “This is so much better than school,” he added.

“Don't even think it.” David tried his best to put on his strict-older-brother face.

A few feet away, Jack laughed. “At least someone listens to me.”

“Yeah, maybe if you'd start to actually say some things that are true, it'll be something worth listening to,” David answered. He didn't even know where the sudden burst of confidence came from. At first it had been difficult for him to focus around the leader of the Manhattan Newsies. However, after getting to know Jack a little, focusing was still difficult but now he couldn't suppress taking out his frustration on the other boy.

“I see you're making a habit out of attracting people who will put you in your place some time.” Suddenly there was another voice and upon turning around, David surprisingly found himself face to face with Katherine Plumber.

“Hello, Miss. Can I interest you in the latest news?” Jack said and his smile grew somehow even bigger. It made David's stomach twitch.

Katherine chuckled and held her hands up. The fabric of her dress wrinkled around her elbows and David noticed some spots on her clothes that were patched up. He'd always assumed that rich people would just buy new clothes when their old ones were torn but apparently Katherine didn't fit this assumption. “I'm sorry to disappoint you, Kelly, but I've bought two papers already. One from Specs this morning, the other from the little boy here.” She was pointing at Les. “He truly is a talented student of yours.”

“Hey!” Les exclaimed. “I'm not that little!”

“Of course not! But compared to Jack's ego, everything is little,” Katherine conceded amused.

Jack, who had somehow managed to sell a paper during the former exchange, crossed his arms before his chest. “Why are you all hating on me now? First Davey, then ya, too. That reminds me – Les, Davey, meet the wonderful Katherine Plumber. Kath, that's Davey and his brother Les.”

It seemed as if Katherine only now started to examine David closer. It made him so nervous that he completely forgot to tell her that it was actually David and not Davey – nobody had ever called him Davey before and he didn't know what to think of that – and without further ado, his hands started to flutter. Eventually, Katherine smiled and said, “Nice to meet you both. Say, do we know each other already? I feel like I've seen you before.”

Panic bubbled up in David's stomach. Did she somehow know that he was Sarah's brother? What if she suspected something and the whole charade – which hadn't really been that good to begin with – blew up? He looked over to Les, maybe to search for help, maybe to feel a little more at ease. And then he remembered that indeed, he had talked to Katherine before. Relieved, he let out a breath. “Yes, we already met each other once. Or better, we talked once on the street. I'm a big admirer of your work, Miss Plumber.”

“Oh, please, just call me Katherine. Kath is fine as well, friends of Jacks are also friends of mine. And thank you, I appreciate that. Perhaps we could talk more about this topic another time? I'm kind of in a rush right now but I would like to hear your opinion on some of my articles – I got this feeling that lately, something is missing but I haven't really been able to figure out, what.” Katherine was just as modest and friendly as he remembered. It was interesting that she also had a teasing side on her when it came to Jack, apparently.

David blushed. “It would be an honour, really.”

“Great,” Katherine said, then proceeded to pat both his and Les' shoulders. “Kelly, it was nice seeing you, maybe I'll stop by the lodging house later.”

“Well, it's not like you's paid a lota attention to me,” Jack retorted with a teasing grin. “Don't flirt with my colleagues that much, a boy might get jealous.”

David only registered Katherine's laugh after that. He didn't really know why but something in him refused to listen further. Well, he did know why but it was totally unfair and irrational of him to be jealous of Katherine. It was not like he was interested in Jack or something. The boy was frustrating and distracting, always had a snarky remark on his tongue and – as even Katherine had said – had a really big ego.

That was also really fragile, at least as far as he could see. The way Jack's smile had faltered for a second upon Kath's remark. The way he wouldn't take credit for the thoughtful things he'd do, like tying Crutchie's shoelaces or trying to help Romeo to court a pretty girl that had watched them doing an impromptu dance performance for a while.

“Hey, Davey.” Breath on his ear, Jack's presence right next to his – didn't he know of some thing called personal space? “If ya keep starin' at Kath like that, maybe I should draw a picture of her and pin it to yer head for a day, aye?”

David sighed and elbowed Jack in the side. Forget the thoughts of Jack being thoughtful – the boy was such an idiot.

[spnwriter]

Yes, you idiot

Summary: What happens when Sam accidentally catches you getting off. 

Warning: Language, Smut.

The brothers were going on a hunt together. I had just gotten back from my own. I decided that I was going to stay behind. I have never been so happy to have the bunker to myself. I love Sam and Dean. It's just sometimes they're a bit much to be around all the time. Alone time is rare. When you hunt with someone you live in their pockets. The concept of space is nonexistent. Sam and Dean try to give me as much privacy as they can. Ever the gentlemen, they get me a separate room when they can. All though they try to give me space when I am in the bathroom, it doesn't always work out that way. There have been many times we've all accidentally walked in on each other

I can confidently say that both Winchesters are packing. It's interesting how little shame the pair has when it comes to nudity. I guess they're used to it only being the two of them. I do catch Sam blushing when he remembers that I can see his entire naked ass. Both Winchester's are a work of art. They are so pretty. I don't think they realize how beautiful they are. The real reason I'm so grateful to be alone is to have space away from Sam. He's shown more skin in the past couple of months than he has since I've known him. It's starting to affect the way I see the taller Winchester. I tried my hardest to never see the brothers in a sexual light. I knew that if I ever started having feelings for either of them, it would get complicated. I am hoping that this whatever it is with Sam is the result of sexual frustration. It's been a while since I've had time to get myself off. Let alone have sex. Yeah, that's it. I just need some time with my vibrator. Now that the bunker was empty that's precisely what I plan on doing. I have the luxury of being able to take my time.

I strip down before laying out on my bed. God it's been so long. I take the time to tease kneed my boobs. I pinch my pierced nipples. I run my hands down my stomach to my thighs. I tease myself by running my hands up and down my thighs. I want to draw this out. It's been so long since I've had the time to tease myself. I run a finger through my lips. Nice and wet. I tease my clit with my fingers before I turn on the vibrator. I start on the lowest setting. I open my eyes briefly and think I see Sam standing by the door. I brush it off, closing my eyes. I turn up the speed. I hear the sound of my door hitting the wall. I jump as I pull the blankets over myself. I did see Sam standing in the doorway. My eyes widen. Sam bumps into the door as he runs away. Needless to say, the mood was ruined.

Neither of us said anything about it when he got back. He hardcore avoided me for days. I don't blame him. I'd do the same. How do you talk about that? Oh, Sorry I watched you playing with yourself. I'd never seen the younger Winchester so flustered before. When he finally stopped avoiding me. I thought things would go back to normal. I was wrong. I didn't think I'd ever heard Sam Winchester stutter before. He couldn't get out a full word without a stammer in his speech. Dean thought it was amusing seeing Sam so flustered. I was honestly tired of it. I missed my friend. I didn't have anyone to go running with me anymore. I asked Dean one morning. He said no among other things. Whatever is up with Sam had been going on for three weeks at this point. I am getting fed up with his constant uneasiness. As awkward as this conversation is going to be, we have to have it. The last time I had seen him, he was hiding in his room. I hesitate to knock on the door. I can't chicken out. Sam and I need to clear the air. I knock lightly. I don't hear an answer. He's going back to avoiding me I guess.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I open his door. "Look-" I start to speak. I stop when I notice that Sam is fully naked. He's got his hand wrapped around his impressive erection. He covers himself quickly. His face flushed and slightly sweaty. I can't tell if he's blushing or not. "I guess we're even now." Sam attempts to joke. "You watched for longer," I say.  Why did I say that? I'm supposed to be making things less awkward between us. "I did." He admits. He looks me up and down. He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth. "To be truly even, you'd have to watch me." Is he serious? I can see the lust swimming around in his eyes. He's giving me the option to walk away. I knew that if I did, he wouldn't bring it up. We'd just forget this whole thing happened. I don't know if I can walk away from him. I can't stop thinking about how he looked at me. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since that day," Sam admits. "All spread out, dripping wet. So fucking beautiful." And just like that, I've made up my mind. "Well, what are you waiting for?" I ask. I take a seat in the chair at his desk. He smirks at me. He pulls the sheets off of his body. His length bobs as he adjusts. I knew he was packing but, damn when he's hard. He wraps his hand around himself. He strokes himself slowly while eyeing me. "Need some inspiration, Sammy?" I ask. He nods as he speeds up his strokes. I stand up. I pull my shirt over my head. I tease both of us as I run my hands down my sides. I cup my boobs still in my bra. His eyes glaze over with lust as I squeeze myself. I turn around. I unclip my bra. I let it slide off my shoulders. He moans at the action. I decided to stop teasing him. I turn to face him showing him my chest. His eyes find the shiny metal on my nipples. I play with the piercings briefly. He uses his thumb to swipe across the tip. "Get over here." Sam moans. I finish stripping quickly. I straddle him. His hands move to my hips. He leans up to kiss me. It's all teeth and tongue. One of his hands moves to run along my pussy. "Already so wet." Sam moans. "Does seeing me jack off turn you on baby girl?" I whine at the name. He hums as he inserts his middle finger into me. "Sam" "So tight too." He adds another finger. He rubs against that special spot that no man has ever found. "Sam, please," I whine. I grind against his hand. "Please what?" "Please fuck me." He doesn't respond but, he pulls his fingers out. He takes them into his mouth moaning at the taste of me. God, that's so hot. "I have to taste you later. I've got to be inside you now." He reaches for his cock. He runs it along my center. He bumps it against my clit. "Sam," I whine. I lift myself to press down on to him. The burn of him stretching me feels amazing. It seems like he's never going to bottom out. He lets out a groan as he finally bottoms out.

"Feels so good." Sam groans. He grips my hips to help me bounce. The drag of his cock on my walls feels fantastic. He catches my lips as I ride him. He suddenly wraps his arms around my body. He moves me to my back. His face is pressed against my neck. He pulls almost all the way out before he slams back into me. "Fuck." I moan as he grips his headboard. He's ramming into me. He brings one of his hands to my clit. His thumb makes tight circles on it. "Gonna cum for me? Cum all over my cock." Sam groans. He grinds into as he thrust back in. "Fuck, so tight." "Holy shit, I'm gonna cum." I warn as His thrust quicken. I can tell he's close. He starts to lose his rhythm. The band in my stomach snaps. I moan out a series of his name.

"Fuck, Y/N." Sam grunts as he cums. His warm seed releases inside me. He thrust a few more times before collapsing on top of me. He keeps most of his weight off of me. He takes his head out of my neck. He places a soft kiss on my lips. A stark contrast to the other kisses we've shared. He pulls out. I feel his cum run down to the sheets. He wraps his arms around me and, pulls me into his chest. I rest my head on his solid chest. I don't question what happened or why. I just enjoy the feeling of having him close. He presses a kiss to the side of my head. "I uh... I know it's usually done the other way around but, I like you, Like a lot. It's okay if you don't feel the same. If this was a one time kind of thing for you. That's cool. We can pretend it never happened. I just, I don't want it to be a one time kind of thing." Sam whispers. "I like you too," I admit. I've known all along that I had feelings for the giant. I just didn't want to admit it. I was afraid of losing him. "You do?" He asks hope filling his voice.

"Yes, you idiot."