#then a second time after refreshing yourself on everything that's happened so far

[possamble]

Words: 2808

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

Part 2: Maia’s (Your) Morning

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Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 7,830

Tags/warnings: POV switch, hangover hell, light angst, confessions, even more references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, kissing, reference to fellatio, a lot of fluff, Reader has a name (and a job and an inkling of a backstory). Regarding her prior bad relationship, I don’t want anyone to be triggered by an assumption, so please note she was NOT in an abusive situation. Her former partner was just a drug-dealing douche.

Author’s note: I finished something new! [*cries in disbelief*] 😭. Thank you so much for your interest and support! 💖

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

You wake up somewhere dark and soft. It takes you several seconds to realise where you are due to the throbbing ache in your head that’s screaming for focus.

You’re in Din’s bed.

Oh fuck.

Well… more like no fuck. A shameful absence thereof.

Slowly, memories of the previous night drift to the surface of your foggy brain, each one deepening your embarrassment until you’ve reached the pitiful depths of utter humiliation. It cuts deeper than your hangover, which includes a pounding headache and a bruised shoulder (how did that happen?), yet is almost trivial in comparison. Kark, you drank – and said and did – a lot more than you should’ve.

Babysitting Grogu is not your primary source of income. In fact, you have a contract with Karga for city planning and infrastructure upgrades. But that’s just building holos, presenting them to the High Magistrate, and then outsourcing the work upon approval. It’s sporadic and flexible, leaving you with plenty of hours to kill. You took this part-time job to keep yourself busy, but you’ve come to enjoy hanging out with the little guy and his bafflingly sexy father. Both are good fun, have always been friendly and welcoming, and you’re fond of their company. Who are you kidding – you’re profoundly attached to them both. Plus, Din has taught you to use a blaster, helping you feel safer and more self-reliant now you’re free of your ex’s ‘protection’. The extra credits are merely a bonus, and you’d do this for free if it came to it.

Well, not this. Not turn up drunk, pass out in your boss’s refresher, then misread a gesture of kindness as a sexual advance. And you just had to fucking let your thoughts spill out, didn’t you? Shit, you basically told him you think he’s a virgin! Sure, you’ve wondered, but you’ve never drawn any conclusions, so why did you have to vocalise those thoughts as if you had? You’ve been so careful to avoid suggesting his commitment to his creed might be impeding anything fun. So what if he can’t eat with you or sleep with you – that’s his choice. He probably thinks you’re judging him now. You shouldn’t have opened your mouth, damn it!

Of course he rejected you.

How could you ever have thought Din would want to be with you after everything you did last night? There are so many reasons for him to have walked away like he did. Not only did you fail to provide trustworthy childcare, but you also vomited in his toilet and were a drunken burden on him after he’d had to go out on a job. Then you assumed he wanted sex, implied he might not have the requisite skills, stripped naked, climbed under his sheets, and stole his fucking bed for the whole night.

You’re a disgrace. The regret burns in your chest, branding you from the inside out as the fool who pushed a former bounty hunter too far.

Plus, you work for the guy, so that’s surely a factor. Your role here is simply to take care of his kid. At least it was. And, of course, he’s never shown any interest in you. In fact, whenever you’ve wondered if the two of you are having ‘a moment’, he’s always run away.

Why did you have to make an already bad situation so much worse by revealing your desires? You were coping fine with your self-imposed celibacy. Sure, it was frustrating, but you were surviving. Repressing your libido around him was working for you.

As much as you want to hide beneath the blankets and avoid the fallout, you know you can’t stay in Din’s bed forever. Even though it’s soft and warm and smells like him – fresh yet with a hint of spicy musk. You really can’t.

Fumbling to activate the lamp, you drain the water on the nightstand, noting your clothes strewn across the floor. Thankfully, they don’t smell of alcohol or vomit (at least you’re a tidy drunk), so you get dressed and stumble to the refresher. More memories return at that crime scene, adding to your shame spiral and giving you a likely reason for your bruised shoulder.

Din has left his ultrasound cleaner out of the cabinet, which has to be a suggestion that you use it, and you can take a hint. You recall complaining that your mouth tasted like bantha balls, and accepting his pity is the lesser evil. Though it’s far more than you deserve, it’s also far better than this flavour.

You gladly let the vibrations clean your mouth and then rinse away the residue, feeling much better for it. It’s not enough to ease your thumping headache, but it’s a start.

You can’t hear any noise from upstairs or across the hall, so you wonder if your hosts are still asleep. It’s clearly past dawn since daylight is spilling down the staircase, but it could still be early. Maybe you can just slip out unnoticed? You debate checking on Grogu first. Din probably slept on the couch, though there’s a cushioned chair in the kid’s room that he could’ve used.

Guilt and concern make you check on your charge despite the risk of waking a metal sentinel. But you’re surprised to discover an empty room. That means they’re either both upstairs and being quiet, or they’ve gone out. You’re hoping for the latter. Zandi insisted you meet her for lunch, but part of you wants to run straight to your friend’s place and cry about what an idiot you’ve been. Hmm, no. You should go home for a shower first. Not that it could wash off the disgrace, but it might ease your aching head, at least.

You dart across the hall for your shoes, straightening out your boss’s sheets before you leave (a token apology, if anything). Catching sight of a comb on top of his dresser sends another type of guilt burning through you. Stealing his bed was already an invasion of privacy, but learning about what he hides beneath the beskar feels worse. You anxiously smooth down the blankets, flick off the lamp, and tiptoe up the stairs.

Thankfully, you find an empty living space, lit by sunshine so bright that you realise it’s already mid-morning. Din must have taken Grogu to school.

There’s no sign of your glowrod, but you don’t care. He can keep it. You shove on your boots with as much haste as you can manage and fly to the exit, darting through. Kriff, it’s so blinding outside that you have to turn your back to the sun or risk your hangover increasing tenfold.

Just as you’re gulping lungfuls of fresh air and keying in the lock code to secure the cabin, you hear him.

“Feeling better?”

The Mandalorian steps out from behind the cabin, and you wonder if he’s been waiting to ambush you. Damn it, you should’ve known. Bounty hunter.

You can’t look him in the eyes. Well, the visor, really. Either way, you fix your gaze on the porch. You’d normally come out with something playful and witty, but today, your brain gives you nothing except wry honesty.

“The hangover and torturous headache are nothing compared to my embarrassment,” you answer sheepishly. “I am so sorry about last night.”

You don’t specify which part because you mean all of it. Drinking to excess and throwing up in his home, as well as climbing into his bed, stripping off, and assuming he would fuck you, then commenting on how you thought he couldn’t fuck you. You’re sure you’ll never live down this shame.

Din doesn’t respond to your apology, but he steps forward, a wall of beskar and muscle blocking you from leaving the porch. He leans past you – so close he almost traps you against the door – and reverses the lock code you just entered.

When the door behind you swishes open again, he gestures inside with a nod. “We gotta talk.”

Oh, frotz, this is bad. This is so so so bad. He’s normally relaxed and happy around you, welcoming (or at least tolerating) your friendly jokes and nicknames. But right now, he’s all stiffness and silence, thumbs in his belt and elbows out wide, staring you down as if you were prey. He is not happy with you. You’ve fucked up bad.

You’re going to lose your job. It’s not a substantial source of income, but you’ll lose your bonding time with the kid and the friendly teasing thing you’ve developed with his dad. You won’t get to watch how strong and beautiful this warrior-turned-father is anymore, how soft he is with Grogu, despite his hard beskar shell. There’ll be no more shooting lessons. He’s going to tell you how offensive your remarks were last night… kark, what if he has a duty to punish anyone who disrespects his creed? Is it disrespectful to suggest he can’t have sex, though? Maybe the offensive thing was you throwing yourself at him. Or perhaps he thinks you’re hideous and finds the idea of having sex with you offensive. Whatever the case, he’s going to—

“Maia….”

Hearing your name growled through his modulator snaps you out of your spiralling thoughts, and you realise you’re just standing there gawking at him in the doorway.

Suddenly, you feel meek in his presence, which has never happened before. Even when you first met, he was careful to make you feel safe and welcome. This menacing demeanour is new.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Can I just go home?”

Din looms closer like a rancor threatening its prey. “This won’t take long,” he insists.

With widened eyes, you shrink back toward the scene of your crimes, your near freedom now a fool’s delusion. He walks forward as you step backward across the cabin’s threshold, maintaining the proximity – a fateful dance that promises a morning even more tragic than the night before.

“Sit,” he commands, gesturing to the couch. He watches you perch yourself where you’re told to and then nods, appeased by your obedience.

A heavy silence clouds the room as your soon-to-be-ex boss flicks on the caf maker and heats the beverage while you quietly unravel on the couch. You’re not even sure what this is. It feels like he’s about to punish you (and not in a good way), but you have no idea how. Is he going to yell at you? Torture you with some kind of ritualistic Mandalorian justice? Or is he just going to describe how disappointed he is, fire you from this job, and threaten to roast you with his flamethrowers if he catches you anywhere near Grogu?

Whatever’s about to happen, you’re zealously ignoring the part of you that’s low-key turned on by how dominant he’s acting this morning. You can’t examine that right now.

After a minute or two, Din brings a cup to the couch and perches beside you, performing an awkward shuffle as he angles his body toward you. Still unsure how to act, you remain facing straight ahead, watching him in your peripheral.

He’s fully armoured this morning, his movements determined but stiff, and you recall how fluidly his body moved when he was just down to his flight suit. When he swept you into his arms, cradled you against his chest, and carried you to his bed…

No! Bad thoughts! Now is not the time for those because you’re about to receive the worst reprimand of your life (and you work for Karga!).

But your brain won’t stop replaying the memory, leading you to a distracting notion. He keeps his armour on the shelves in his bedroom – you saw it there last night. That means he must have come in to grab it this morning while you were sleeping. Damn, he’s stealthy! Though, to be fair, you were utterly passed out.

Wait. You woke up fully covered and tucked in. You don’t recall falling asleep, but you do remember arranging the blanket for optimum cleavage display. Kark, you really hope you snuggled down properly in your sleep. Because if not, there’s a chance that he opened his door to an inadvertent boob extravaganza, and he covered you up for the sake of your dignity. Fuck! How much shame can you suffer in a single morning?

He still hasn’t started talking, so before your thoughts ricochet in yet another distressing direction, you prompt, “You, uh, said we need to talk?” It’s probably best to confront your impending doom so you can run home and scream into a pillow.

Din huffs a little. “We do. Doesn’t mean I know how to start.”

Hmm, well, he doesn’t seem too angry, at least. Perhaps there won’t be any Mandalorian torture-based vengeance after all.

You don’t have the energy to play ‘guess the punishment’, but maybe you can stave it off if you beg for mercy. “Okay, then let me start. I said and did some monumentally stupid things last night, and I understand if you can’t forgive me and never want to see me again. But I just need you to know how truly sorry I am and that I really didn’t mean to offend you, and if I could—”

“Stop apologising,” he interrupts, shaking his helmet.

His order startles you into silence. It was insistent, but he didn’t sound angry at all. In fact, there was an undertone of something else. Almost the amused side of frustrated. What the kriff is happening?

Din sighs and tilts his visor toward his lap, then seems surprised to realise he’s still clutching the caf he made but clearly can’t drink in your presence. He silently offers you the steaming cup, and after a beat, you accept it, staring at it just as he did.

Never has a cup of caf received as much scrutiny as when two parties are unsure how to vocalise their thoughts.

“I made it for you,” he offers. “Thought… with the hangover….”

“Thanks,” you mumble, unsure what else to do or say. This isn’t going as expected at all, and your confusion is only growing. Is he doing some kind of bounty hunter ‘killing with kindness’ act?

This is absurd. You just need to get him talking, accept your punishment, and then you can escape.

“Um,” you begin, and his shadowed visor fixes on you again, unsettling you further. “If… if you don’t want to hear my apologies… what do you want to talk about?”

Your reluctant host forces out his response like it’s stuck inside his throat. “I want… I wanna ask you… some things. And I need you to answer honestly.”

Your stomach churns with nerves. He has questions? He must want you to explain what you said. He’s going to make you relive it – not by telling you how offensive you were, but by making you deconstruct your own comments and actions.

Kark. It’s a punishment, alright.

But if the penalty for your folly is the discomfort of explaining yourself, you can deal with that. This is a man you’re used to teasing, and he sounds just as unsure about what to say here as you are. So, you need to gather your confidence and endure whatever awkwardness this brings up.

You square your shoulders and lift your chin. “Okay… ask me.”

“You’ll answer? Honestly?” There’s an edge of desperation in Din’s voice from which you intuit his real meaning. You need to check any joking at the door.

Well, your current embarrassment level is sky-high, so whatever he wants you to respond to or admit surely can’t be much worse. You’ve already laid yourself (literally) bare for him. “I will. You got a slice of my inner dialogue last night, so I might as well continue the honesty.”

“Good… thank you.” He releases a profound sigh, a rush of static through the vocoder, and appears to gather himself for his first question. “Why do you think my creed means I can’t…?” He trails off, but you follow his meaning and match his heavy sigh.

“I don’t really think that,” you assure him. “Honestly, I’ve never known what to think, which means I’ve made no assumptions either way. But I guess… my drunken brain felt it was… safer to err on the side of caution when addressing it out loud.”

You’re not in the least bit surprised that he’s starting with this. If he is a virgin, you’ve mocked him, and if he isn’t, you’ve no doubt hurt his pride.

When he doesn’t respond, you suggest, “If that’s your first question, it sounds like you’re worried I’m judging you, so let me reinforce what I just said. ‘No assumptions’ means ‘no judgments’. But if you want to clarify things, I can promise you that whatever the truth is, I still won’t judge you.”

The importance Din is giving this topic is by far the biggest clue to the likely truth. No virgin would question you in the way that he just did. If they mentioned it at all, they’d probably just insist it’s not a topic for you to concern yourself with and never speak of it again. But inviting him to confirm his expertise gives him an easy way to lay the matter to rest. It’s also the kindest thing to do in the wake of your drunken foolishness.

He nods a fraction, accepting the premise, pausing while he chooses his words. “My creed doesn’t impose any rules relating to that, only that I cannot remove my helmet. And… some people kind of, uh… they get off on the mystery. So I do pretty well when I need to… blow off some steam.”

Huh. That was surprisingly direct (for him). You can’t help but smile, wondering if your delight stems from finally having proof that he isn’t without experience or that this discussion (so far) isn’t about how badly you fucked up.

Hoping to conceal your thoughts and keep the focus on him, you instantly slide back into teasing mode with a new nickname and a vague compliment of sorts. “Super Stud! You’re very discreet.”

“That’s the idea,” he confirms, ignoring his new moniker. “Although it’s by no means frequent, and since I got Grogu, I haven’t had….” He clears his throat. “Time and opportunity are rare.”

As much as you wish Din would choose to ‘blow off some steam’ with you, all you hear is a chance to atone for last night’s thoughtless actions. “I can take care of him while you go have some fun…?”

A massive scoff comes through the vocoder, and he shakes his helmet widely. “No, Maia, that’s… that’s not gonna work.”

But you persist, desperate to make amends. “Oh, come on, Metal Man, you deserve a break. Isn’t there anyone on Nevarro you can call for some fun?”

He sighs. “I have… options, yes.”

You furrow your brow at that. “So why did you say time and opportunity are rare? If you’ve got options, why don’t you just get your shiny ass laid while I do what you pay me for and take care of—”

A distinctly peeved huff crackles through the modulator, and you instantly fall silent. You forgot you’re not supposed to be teasing. Nor is it clear yet whether you still have a job. Foot, meet mouth.

He curtly redirects you. “Next question.” You assent with a nod, but when he continues, his tone is suddenly guarded and awkward. “Last night, you said… you suggested… that you and I might… blow off some steam.”

Fuck, this is the part you were dreading, and your pulse picks up. He seems nervous. Is that good or bad? Well, it’s better than angry and scary. You try to freeze your movements to avoid either wincing or looking too eager, nervously awaiting his question.

“Was that… because of the alcohol? Or… something, uh… real?” All you detect in his voice is discomfort, so you can’t tell which option he hopes for.

You sigh and take a careful slurp of the scalding hot caf to buy yourself time. It’s hard to answer because there’s a lot at risk. If you’re too honest about your feelings and Din doesn’t feel the same way, your relationship might end – professional as well as personal.

But once again, the fact that he’s asking suggests your answer is important to him, so the odds are likely in your favour. If he wasn’t attracted to you, surely he’d play it down and give you a way to save face. Just say he knew your silly drunken advances were simply an extension of your usual urge to tease and meant nothing, and that he forgives you for them. Surely he wouldn’t ask if they were ‘real’.

The concept sparks a tiny flame of hope in a dark and dusty corner of your mind, a pinprick of light to chase away the fears you walked in here with.

However, you can’t be too hasty or draw conclusions without facts. Though this isn’t going as dreadfully as you feared it might, the sensible option is to avoid getting your hopes up. He asked you for honesty, so you’ll give him that, but you decide to err on the side of caution again. An assumption against any interest on his part shouldn’t be offensive.

“It wasn’t… totally the alcohol,” you confess cautiously, and you see his body instantly tense up. Is that a positive reaction? “I’ve been trying to remember exactly what I said to you. I told you it was a ‘dream’, right?” Din nods once. “Well… that’s true. I admit I’ve had some daydreams about the idea. But it felt… safer not to mention it. Last night, you made it clear you weren’t interested in me, and you’ve never given me any reason to think otherwise, so I—”

“I did no such thing.”

Shit. The anger you were afraid of is finally colouring the Mandalorian’s tone, and he leans forward with his vehement denial.

What did you say wrong? Did you tease too soon with the new nickname just now? Shock and confusion contort themselves across your face, and you shrink backward.

He almost growls at your retreat, and the creak of his leather gloves as he clenches his fists has you bracing yourself for trouble. You honestly can’t tell if you’re turned on or terrified.

Before you can decide, he declares, “Last night, I had to walk away from a beautiful naked woman in my bed because she’d been drinking, and I would never do anything without full consent. I did not make it clear I wasn’t interested in you. Fuck, Maia, I have dreams about you too. All the time.”

Your mouth hangs open in surprise. Even knowing it was vaguely possible, you weren’t ready for that response.

He has dreams about you too!

Now that he’s confessed what got him so worked up, you see him make a visible effort to calm down.

His next words are much softer, soothing your prior unease, though your heart continues to thump from his admission. “Time and opportunity are rare because you’re Grogu’s babysitter, and that kid loves you. When he’s not with me, he wants to be with you. He only goes to school twice a week. That’s not a lot of time or—”

“—or opportunity,” you finish. “Okay, I get it. Why didn’t you say anything before? We could’ve been blowing off steam on schooldays for months already, but I had no idea. I would’ve climbed naked into your bed way sooner if I’d known.”

Din groans, a low and sinful rumble, and you wonder if you shouldn’t have put those images in his mind.

A deep breath later, he answers, “My son is my priority; his needs come before mine. He needs a good babysitter more than I need a good… uh….” He trails off and clears his throat. “And last night was the first time you’d ever said anything. I had no idea either.”

“But, but…” you stammer. Okay, so you’ve been keeping it to yourself, but you’re surprised he didn’t pick up on your attraction at all. “I’m flirting and checking you out all the crinking time, Metal Man. I thought bounty hunters were observant?”

He hums as if he’s flattered by your admission. “Teasing me is not a sign of anything on its own. And I’ve never seen you look anywhere other than directly at my helmet. You would’ve noticed my interest otherwise.” You furrow your brow slightly, not following, and he shakes his head in frustration. “You never look down.”

You look down.

Holy mother of meteors…

That is one obscenely snug flight suit and one fucking impressive erection.

Granted, you’ve noticed he’s been wearing the loose flight suit pants more often. In fact, you’ve missed being able to check out his toned ass in the closer-fitting ones. But since you can’t see where he’s looking, you’ve always been careful to keep your roving eyes chaste whenever he’s facing you. And, kriff, you never figured the reason for his wardrobe change was to hide this glorious attribute.

“Wow,” you breathe, unsure of what else to say. Suddenly, the volume on your headache reduces, and your lust levels shoot up. It’s so….

Din fidgets slightly, perhaps on edge because of your sudden scrutiny. Oops.

You revert your gaze to his visor, chancing some levity to ease the tension. “If I wasn’t fighting a skull-splitting hangover, I’d have a whole host of new nicknames for you already. Something about being as hard as beskar or carrying a concealed weapon… ugh, gimme a day, I’ll come up with a winner.”

His chuckle suggests the ice between you is now well and truly broken. You knock back the rest of your caf in the relaxed pause. It’s still hotter than you prefer, but perhaps it’ll quell your desire.

He lets you finish before breaking the easy silence. “Another question before you go, if it’s okay. Maybe a couple more, depending on how you answer the first one. I’d rather not leave this topic hanging now that we’ve addressed it.”

“Sure.” Right now, you’re willing to give this man whatever he wants.

“Okay. There’s another reason I walked away last night – besides your drunken state. It’s why I haven’t mentioned this before.” He swallows and inhales shakily. “You told me that your last relationship was terrible. And the fact that you chose to celebrate its end tells me you value your freedom. On my side, my relationships are rarely meaningful or long-term. So it might seem easiest to keep things casual.”

He pauses, but it’s unclear whether he wants your input. You can’t tell where he’s going with this, so you give him a one-shouldered shrug.

He leans forward and rests his vambraces on his cuisses. “If Grogu wasn’t around, it might be. But casual never ends well, and I will not threaten the bond you two have just for something meaningless. For the child’s sake, we gotta be sure where we stand before we… act on any of this. I can’t do casual with you, Maia. So the first question is: are you interested enough to try something… meaningful? Because if you’re not, we gotta bury this.”

He’s right. You start to understand why he got so worked up at your admission that you’re attracted to him for real. It complicates things.

He’s asked a logical and vital question, and you take a moment to give it due attention. Whatever happens, this cannot threaten your employment. So where are the lines?

You’ve felt something for Din from the start, and your attraction has only grown. That line is already blurred, and it hasn’t threatened anything, but it helps you see what he’s getting at. Your attachment to him and Grogu has become far more profound than you expected, so you couldn’t do casual even if you tried. It could only harm your bond with the kid if you tried to repress that attachment and keep things casual with his father.

Simply put, your feelings are already meaningful, so whatever comes next must be too.

Strangely, that doesn’t scare you. Your prior experience was poor – both oppressive and neglectful – but you were a displaced teenager on a new planet looking for protection when you got into that. Din is nothing like your ex, and this couldn’t be more different. You have faith in this man and, thus, faith in your answer.

“I am,” you confirm with a smile. “Are you?” He’s already confirmed he won’t do casual, but you need his agreement to start something meaningful.

He swallows, then echoes, “I am.”

A thrilling but weighty moment passes as you both digest this, just staring at one another in the wake of your mutual confessions. The air feels charged with promise. You can almost taste it.

It’s hard to judge how long has passed when he speaks again. “Second question. Did you use my ultrasound cleaner?”

Well, that’s a non sequitur. You have no idea how this query relates to your previous answer, but you nod nonetheless.

“Great. Come with me.”

He stands and leads you downstairs, stepping into his room and tapping on the main lights. When he sees that you’ve made his bed, he hums happily.

You’re quiet but hopeful, the heady feeling of promise that consumed you last night slowly filling you up once more as he turns to face you and beckons you closer.

“We should take this slow,” he starts. “You’re hungover, and I want you to feel comfortable when we….” He nods at the bed, oddly still reticent to describe the act.

“When we fuck.”

Din releases the cutest whimper and tugs at his pants. “That is not helping me with this problem. If you keep talking like that, I might not be able to resist,” he warns.

You scoff. “Shiny, are you really trying to threaten me with sex? Kriff, please tell me you didn’t use this tactic on any bounties back in the day.”

“No, I did not. And I’m trying to save that until your head doesn’t hurt,” he sighs. “But… question three. Before you go home, can I… kiss you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up as surprise and desire collide and carve a messy path through your chest, sending your heart tumbling into a double-time beat.

“Are you…” You’re not quite sure how to phrase your query, still chagrined by last night’s verbal blunders. “Is that some kind of metaphor? Does ‘kissing’ mean something different for Mandalorians with the whole helmet thing? Because if we’re just gonna thumb wrestle or something, I’m still in, but it’s kind of weird to call it kissing.”

He chuckles, and it eases your worry. “We do have a kissing substitute, but no, in this case, I meant what I said. I just gotta turn the lights out so you can’t see me when I remove my helmet. If that’s okay.”

All of your fears and concerns melt away with his answer. Gone are your worries about your budding romance having awkward or difficult restrictions, replaced by a certainty that you can handle not making eye contact. If observing that single caveat allows you to be with this man, you don’t even consider it a sacrifice.

Well, if he brought you down here to ensure it’s dark enough, you can help with that. You saunter to the door and touch the control to slide it closed, blocking out the sunshine filtering down the stairs, and then you turn to him with a smile. “It’s very okay. I’m not leaving here without a kiss, Din.”

He sucks in a modulated breath and doesn’t move for a second. “You… used my name.”

You know you’re allowed to – he’s told you that many times – but you find the nicknames help to maintain a friendly distance. Treat him as a friend, not as a lover. Except now things are changing.

“I thought I’d practice,” you explain. “I’m guessing that when we do get in that bed together, you’d prefer I scream out your real name instead of ‘Shiny’ or ‘Beskar Boy’.”

He groans sinfully again and reaches for you, fixing a glove around your wrist and tugging you to stand beside the shelves he stores his armour on. “Don’t move,” he instructs. Then he releases your wrist and taps a button on his vambrace, and the lights very slowly fade out until the room is darker than the void between galaxies.

Suddenly, sensations are everything. You can detect the warmth of Din’s body so close to yours, though you’re not yet touching. You hear him breathing more audibly than usual, a gentle but slightly stuttered hiss through the vocoder. You feel the air swirl around you as he raises his hands to his helmet…

The rhythmic thump of your heartbeat quickens, and despite your lack of sight, it’s as if the events occur in flashes between the beats. The absence of sound as you hold your breath. The gentle rustle as he slides off the metal helmet. The muffled clang when it hits the shelf as he lines it up. The scrape of the edge as he pushes it home. The nervous breath he releases in the subsequent silence, reminding you to exhale too.

Then he’s reaching for you, and your mind goes blank as his hands find your hips, closing the distance further. It’s not close enough to feel his arousal against you, although that’s probably wise. But if you weren’t still harbouring a headache, you’d be unable to resist pressing forward and seeking the impressive bulge you admired upstairs. Instead, you lay your palms on his cuirass and slide upward, burying your fingers in his cloak. That’s as high as you’ll go until you know what’s allowed.

One of Din’s gloved hands engulfs the nape of your neck, and you love how he’s controlling this, moving you in the dark to where he wants you. You can tell he’s leaned in closer by the sound of his breathing – more audible without the beskar barrier. Then there’s a sense of warmth on your skin as he brings you close enough to nuzzle at your hairline, gently at first, until you register the distinct press of his nose against your temple.

You feel it just before he speaks, his breath tickling near your ear as he opens his mouth to husk smooth, unmodulated words. “Go easy on me; it’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

Fuck, his voice is gorgeous. It resonates through you like a rumbling storm, drenching you with wanton promise, unleashing a different wetness upon you. If there were any frequency that could subdue your headache, it would be his soft and smoky timbre.

“Oh?” It’s all you can manage; a single syllable of surprise at his admission. He seems so confident.

“Mm,” he confirms, brushing his lips softly near the corner of your eye, and you detect some stubble around them. “Before we swear the Creed, we spend a while doing the things we’re taught to avoid after. I’ve only used this loophole once since then. So….” He trails off and presses a gentle kiss to the crest of your cheekbone, warm lips on soft skin, and you melt in his arms.

You want to assure him that he’s nailing it, preparing you so perfectly that he seems like an expert kisser, no matter how little practice he’s had. You want to thank him for deeming you worthy enough to use this rare loophole and express your stunned gratitude at the privilege he’s allowing you. But the notion of speaking confounds you, and all you can do is lift your chin and indicate your willingness to do this.

Din gets the message.

You can sense his nerves in the way he cautiously presses his lips against yours. But in the millisecond it takes to register a connection, your body reacts before your brain and electricity shoots through your nerve endings. Instantly, thousands of perfect explosions stud your skin, making you shiver in bliss.

He’s sweet, gentle, respectful… and it’s good. But it’s a little chaste for your liking, and you can tell he’s holding himself back. He needs to let go, so you emit a low hum of pleasure, which spurs him on and increases his fervour. You gently part your lips, and he gets the hint and takes the lead, deepening the kiss until your tongues meet – a touch that halts the spin of the whole galaxy around you.

Then he lets go. It’s as if he’s suddenly remembered how to breathe after holding his breath for decades, and oh, how utterly starved of oxygen he’s been. This kiss is feeding him, keeping him alive. His tightened grip, the tremors of lust you detect running through him, the way he almost whimpers into your mouth… it’s assertive and adorable in equal measures.

You can feel his inexperience, but you let him lead anyway. He gets lost in the sensations a few times, his rhythm faltering, but he corrects himself and responds keenly to your subtle signals of what’s good. It’s not long before you’re locked in a perfect moment, sharing an exquisite kiss with your ideal man.

When you part, it’s by mere centimetres, and you’re so full of happy chemicals that your hangover is barely a niggle at the back of your brain.

“I think that fixed my headache,” you purr against his lips. “I bet I could even thumb wrestle you now….” You have no clue what you’re implying, but you’re low-key horny, and openly flirting with him for once is fun.

Din’s unmodulated chuckle is the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, I was aiming for ‘mindblowing’, but I’ll take ‘headache-fixing’,” he jests, bantering right back for once. You can’t help but close the tiny distance to steal another lingering yet closed-mouth kiss, eager to show him just how addictive his efforts were.

Once again, your lips barely separate, lingering close. “Oh, it’s blown alright – completely offline. Probably why it doesn’t hurt anymore.” A salacious idea comes to you then, and you voice it a hair’s breadth from his mouth, knowing he’ll refuse but wanting to show you’re willing. “Maybe now it’s my turn to blow something of yours….”

The sharp gasp he sucks in and raggedly exhales indicates he’s just pictured your suggestion and played the image to its fruition. In the pitch-black room, you can pick up on his obvious arousal through sound and touch – the almost-groan he swallows, the twitch of all the muscles in his body as he reins himself in.

There’s a pause as he considers your proposal, and you can tell he’s waging a war with himself to refuse. You’ve put him in a difficult position. But this new closeness allows you to upgrade friendly teasing into full-on flirting, and you can’t resist.

It takes longer than you expect, but Din finally releases a shuddering breath, swallows, and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he rasps, “I would enjoy that very much, but it’s not why I brought you down here, mesh’la.”

Mesh’la? Who the fuck is that? You stiffen in his arms, unable to process the idea that he’s just said someone else’s name during an intimate moment. Even if it does sound similar enough to yours that you could maybe understand the slip, how could he—?

“Maia,” you correct pointedly as your thoughts spiral, pulling away slightly, your stomach suddenly in knots.

He tightens his hold and hurriedly assures you, “Hey, no, it’s not— mesh’la means ‘beautiful’ in Mando’a.”

There’s a tense pause, and then you murmur, “Ah,” embarrassed and glad you didn’t instantly flip out at your incorrect assumption, then suddenly flattered by the compliment. As you fall back into his embrace, your sluggish brain gives you nothing more, too confused by the pelting of emotions you just received in quick succession. Perhaps it’s best to adopt Din’s usual policy of silence.

But he saves you from your chagrin and redirects you to another topic. “Final question. Can I make you dinner one evening this week? We agreed we’re aiming for something… meaningful here. Getting physical right away is not the best way to achieve that.” He squeezes your waist with the hand that’s remained in place throughout. “As much as I’m looking forward to that part.”

A sweet smile is your reply, though you realise he can’t see it in the dark. Luckily, it’s followed up by the return of your vocabulary. “Dinner sounds good. Grogu too?” You love the little womp rat, but this sounds like a date, so you’d rather it wasn’t crashed by a decades-old toddler.

Din hums as he follows your thought process. “The kids at his school keep inviting him on playdates and sleepovers. The parents seem like good people, so I’m sure we could arrange something both he and I would be happy with.”

You nod. “Then I look forward to our first date.” You can’t imagine how a dinner date will work with a guy who can’t show his face, but at least now you know there are loopholes. Perhaps he has another for eating together.

“Me too… mesh’la Maia.” You hear his slightly cheeky but utterly earnest tone, and you can’t help grinning. How apt that he should give you a nickname just when you decide to start using his real name.

You want to kiss him again, but since you pulled away a little, you can’t judge where his face is anymore, and you’re not sure if you’re allowed to touch him to locate it. “Another kiss before I leave, gorgeous guy?” (Two can play the nickname game, and you started it).

“Always,” Din agrees through a chuckle, bringing you in close again with the hand on your neck, finding your lips and pressing something firmer, more resolute there. You open eagerly for him and revel in the thrust of his tongue against yours. He’s settling into it now, more confident in himself and his technique, while carefully heeding your responses.

You enjoy it while you can – the sensations, the taste, the warmth, the delicious calm energy that washes through you with his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hand on your neck. You commit the feelings to memory, unsure when you’ll get to do it again. You hope you won’t have to wait too long for your date.

It’s over too soon, but you accept that it has to be. As you separate, you attempt to lock in the memories of the features you’ve felt pressed against you – stubble, soft lips, a strong nose. It’s not much, but it’s more than you had before.

Din’s hand falls from your neck, and you bemoan the loss of heat and comfort, spiralling back toward your hangover from the heady heights of such an intimate moment. As you hear the scrape of his helmet on the shelf’s edge again, you panic a little and blurt out, “What’s your hair like?”

He freezes, and your panic swells for a different reason. Based on the comb you spotted on his dresser earlier, you’re confident you’re not asking a bald man to describe his hair, but perhaps it’s forbidden to ask.

“I-I mean, if I’m not allowed to know, then forget I asked. I just… now that I’ve felt your lips, it’s made me wonder about the rest. It’s fine if you can’t tell me, though.”

A few seconds later, the scrape of the helmet resumes, and he slides it into his grasp. But you don’t hear him put it on.

Din’s reply is a low whisper, and he sounds even more nervous than he was before you kissed. “You can’t see my face… but you can touch it. If you want.”

Oh. You wonder how many people have touched his face, which makes you hesitate. This feels more intimate than you should be getting right now. “Thank you. I think… just your hair today. I’ll explore the rest of you on our date, face included.” That promise wins you an eager hum.

Your hands remain buried in his cloak, so you slide one to the back of his neck and rake upward. A gasp escapes you as you feel soft strands, longer than you expected and curling slightly at the ends. You picture the cutest mess of unruly waves.

“Is it… what colour is it?” You’ve seen him without his gloves a few times – last night included – so you know his skin is a warm amber. But human genetics are so diverse that you can’t really assume anything about his hair based on that.

It takes a few seconds for him to answer, busy sighing in bliss and pressing his head into your palm like a tooka getting stroked. “Dark,” he replies simply. It’s unclear whether he’s hypnotised by your hand in his hair or he’s not used to disclosing details about himself. Both are fair excuses, and you have much more data than you did ten minutes ago either way. You’re convinced he’s gorgeous.

“Thank you, Din,” you offer as you force yourself to stop running your fingers through his silken waves and withdraw a step.

There’s a quiet rustle as he places his helmet back on and seals it. “You’re welcome.” It’s modulated again, but there’s something about hearing that metallic rasp that makes you smile. You just kissed the source of that sound.

With a muffled beep from his vambrace, the lights fade up again, revealing an impassive black T-visor. However, the armoured body below it somehow looks more relaxed and assured. Gone is the stiffness you felt in his limbs earlier, and though you wonder if a certain stiffness in his pants remains, you’re not about to start ogling him when you should be going home.

So you smile and suggest, “Walk me out?” and you’re rewarded with a nod.

When you exit the cabin for the second time in one morning, you feel like a different person. Though your foggy head throbs and your bruised shoulder smarts, your very essence sparkles with an energy you’ve never felt before. It flares with each lingering touch the Mandalorian bestows upon you, with every prolonged stare of his visor, and with his soft instruction to get home safe.

He’ll call you, he promises, slipping a new comlink into your hand.

When you exit the cabin for the second time in one morning, you feel like a better person. The girl who disgraced herself last night has gone, leaving a happier and more fulfilled version in her place. Even so, you’re sure glad that idiot version of yourself ran her mouth and became the catalyst for your new path with Din.

And you can’t wait to look down again. Maybe next time you’ll get to go down too.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Get ready for more loquacious end notes…

Maia’s job was inspired by this scene from s3e5. She’s not a civil engineer, but, like, she could be that girl with the datapad – doing all the planning and building the holos while the engineer gets all the glory (can you tell I work in a support role??).

I originally wrote details at the end of part one of everything Din decided – that she must be attracted to him based on how she worded things, and that he’d talk to her to verify that and determine whether it was something she’d like to act on or just ignore. But I realised it was better for the story to leave his intentions a mystery (is the thing he ‘doesn’t want to have to do’ ejecting her from his life, or simply having a grownup conversation?), which hopefully lets you feel more of Maia’s fear here.

I feel like there’s a lot of scope for misunderstandings, not just because of Din’s helmet, but also because he can be socially awkward. So there he is, massively attracted to this girl who threw herself at him the night before but he doesn’t know what to say, so he just sort of gravitates towards her, tries to get close. Is he sort of flirting? Maybe. The ‘get in their personal space’ thing might work for him when he’s casually picking someone up. So his actions here are him trying to say with body language “I like you too, I want to get closer,” but she misunderstands because of her embarrassment, sees it as intimidation, and shies away – a response which makes him even more clueless about how to vocalise things.

I hope the switch from third person (she/her) pronouns in part 1 Din’s POV to second person (you/your) pronouns in part 2 Maia’s POV wasn’t too clunky. I know it’s popular in this fandom to use second-person pronouns (you/your) even when writing from a third person’s POV (Din’s), but I just can’t make myself do it. If he’s the one whose head we’re in, when he’s thinking about the woman he’s attracted to, he wouldn’t be thinking “damn, you’re hot”, he’d be thinking “damn, she’s hot”. I was taught that we should hear internal dialogue exactly as it would sound to the person thinking it, thus we should use third-person pronouns when inside his head. You/your is only for when we’re inside the reader’s head (second-person POV so second-person pronouns). And of course, I/me pronouns are used if we’re ever inside the author’s head (first person POV). I hope that explains the switch here. I swear I can’t help my annoying adherence to grammar rules – it’s just been drilled into me. I wish I could be more flexible sometimes, but unfortunately the autism always wins 😔

GIF made by me again, slightly less blurry this time.

Definitions: An ultrasound cleaner is basically a sonic toothbrush from Legends. Both Boba Fett and Jabba the Hutt kept a rancor as a rather scary pet. Caf, as you probably know, is the SWU’s coffee. Din (and Maia here) often calls Grogu a womp rat, a pest on Tatooine (proving Din has spent long enough there to pick up the local lingo, and Maia has picked it up from him). A tooka is an SWU cat.

As always, comments/kudos (AO3) and likes/reblogs (Tumblr) will inspire me to produce more things. I don’t have a Kofi because I would rather have your help marketing my stories than take your cash, so if you enjoy my work, please support me with kudos and reblogs. Thanks!

Honestly, I’m not altogether thrilled with this fic. I struggle with shorter (ha!) pieces because, as those of you who have read Be-All And Endor will know, I’m much more comfortable playing the long game and writing things where I can focus on character development, foreshadow future events, reference and call back concepts, and do a heck of a lot of worldbuilding. So to me, this feels like it lacks depth because it’s a very simple and straightforward concept that lacks a full-on conflict/resolution arc, and as a character study it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before. I’ve also been struggling to write something I felt was good enough to publish in the wake of Be-All. I don’t think this passes muster, but in the end, I realised I had to just post something – anything – simply to get past that fear of doing it. So I hope this was interesting enough to at least hold your attention! I suppose I could write a part 3 where they have their date and the smut happens, but to be honest, I have several other smutty fics in the works that have much better setups, so I think I should focus on those. I might come back to this one day, though.

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@dindenimchicken @feekedbeat @foomoosworld @jude77 @penvisions

@pigeonmama @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an @titlee78

I tagged those below in part 1 due to interest in my series masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs). Nobody told me off for my audacity, so I’m hoping you’ll enjoy part 2 also…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

[cousmemes]

dialogue starters from VARIOUS DOCTOR WHO SPECIALS. feel free to edit for context / continues under the cut.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Do you know, I've never met anyone who wasn't important before."

"Whatever happens tonight, remember you brought it on yourself."

"Don't treat me like an idiot."

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was boring you."

"What's happened? What are you not telling me?"

"I don't care. I'm not like you. I don't even want to be like you. I don't and never, ever will care."

"Give me your hand and come to me."

"Everything has got to end some time, otherwise nothing would ever get started."

"I don't need anyone else."

"That wasn't there a second ago. It just appeared, from nowhere."

"What's wrong with silly?"

"Where are you going? I thought we were just getting acquainted."

"How refreshing to see you taking an interest again."

"Don't worry. No one's going to hurt you."

"Don't try to run away. Stay where you are."

"Why would I run? I know what's going to happen next and it's funny."

"What's wrong with dangerous?"

"I'm begging you. I'm on my knees."

"Children are not really my area of expertise."

"Yes? What? I'm trying to read."

"This isn't the sort of thing I do anymore."

"You missed this, didn't you?"

"Do I always have to state the obvious?"

"Blimey, you really know how to sulk, don't you?"

"Well, for your information, I'm not sweet on the inside."

"I don't know why I'm crying."

"Remember this. This right now, remember all of it. Because this is the day. This is the day. This is the day everything begins."

"What is the point of blaming yourself?"

"Will you come away with me?"

"Don't you think, after all this time and everything I've ever done, that I am owed this one?"

"We saved the world, you and me. We really, really did."

"Next time, would it kill you to knock?"

"What's our cover story for this?"

"Am I having a midlife crisis?"

"You don't seem to be kneeling. How tremendously brave of you."

"Is something funny? Did I miss a funny thing?"

"Oh, goodness, you're not actually dead. Oh, that's tremendous news."

"Emergency! You're my boyfriend."

"No, stop, stop, don't move. Don't do anything."

"There you are. What took you so long?"

"You didn't even say goodbye!"

"Why did you send me away?"

"Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually. Everything ends."

"Why didn't you call me? I could have helped."

"Oh. I died. It's funny, the things that slip your mind."

"He just looked so beautiful standing there. I wanted everything to stop. I wanted nothing to change ever again."

"Don't hug me so tight. You'll break something."

"Were you always so young?"

"You're going to stay here. Promise me you will."

"It's started. I can't stop it now."

"It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror."

"We all change, when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives."

"I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear."

"Stay calm. Just one question. Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"

"Talk to me. I never thought I was going to see you again."

"Don't make me think about them!"

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that."

"Who are you? Why are you dressed like that?"

"We never stood a chance. How did we survive that?"

"Seriously? You're trying to help?"

"Well, that's not a very nice attitude, is it?"

"You're always talking like you're so clever, going on and on. So tell me what to do!"

"You're always such a downer."

"I'm sorry. I was stupid. I should have come back earlier. I wish that I had."

"No. It isn't all over. It's far from being all over."

"I knew it. I knew you couldn't be dead."

"That is - That is not happening. That's totally not happening. Agreed?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Why am I wearing these?"

"Quite beautiful, really, isn't she?"

"Can we just pretend that that never happened? Can we just never, ever talk about this again?"

"I hope we talk about it loads. I hope we spend years laughing about it."

"I'm afraid. Very, very afraid. I don't normally admit that to anyone else."

"You're a bit of a legend these days."

"Well, that would be a nice story, wouldn't it?"

"The real world is not a fairytale."

"I'm so tired of losing people."

"How was this our fault?"

"I think I'm ready now. But I should like to know - are you?"

"Whatever you decide, good luck."

"Can't I ever have peace? Can't I rest?"

"Thank you. Thank you for everything that you were to me."

"You wait a moment. Let's get it right. I've got a few things to say to you."

"Laugh hard, run fast, be kind."

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: Finding yourself lost in the forest, you decided to enter an abandoned house to seek a shelter. That's when you find a weird creature wanting your blood.

PAIRING: Vampire¡Leon x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.001k

WARNINGS: Leon whimpers a little. Mentions of blood, drinking blood, don't include smut, can be a bit explict.

NOTES: Just a quick thing about vampire Leon before two other smuts i have planned to write. I was thinking of making this a smut, but it turned out quite sweet at the end. Just enjoy this and tell me if there's any error.

You follow a very strict routine. Every night, you would do a run in the closest forest, of course, you would always do the same path, trying your best not to get lost into that deep spacious amount of tree, that embraces your figure each time you enter on it. This night is no different, wearing your usual gym clothing, you look straight ahead to that dark path in front of you, that waits for you to get in, the cold breeze is quite comfortable tonight, but you’re going to sweat anyways, it will be refreshing. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart rate increasing like every night you do this, the fear of the unknown, after all, this could have things you don’t know, you could cross your path to a wild animal or something, this would depend on your luck. Until now, you never had a problem with animals in this forest.

As you start jogging inside, the phone in your hands marks the time, in a chronometer. The usual twenty five minutes, that’s okay. You nod to yourself, letting the fear go away as you move on that path, the nature sounds perks up your ears, the waterfall water flows not too far, some owls can be heard as well, and some night birds cross above, ripping off the starry dark sky with their wings open, making them sound and floating above the trees. You didn’t need music in such a calm place, all you needed was to pay attention to the sounds around, and you would find yourself distracted with it. The road ahead is known by you, you would keep the pace, feeling your breathing becoming more and more hard as you keep running, you look down to the phone in your hands, it’s been already ten minutes since you started sprinting, your chest goes up and down hardly and your heart beat increases more.When you look up once away, your eyebrows lifts as you continues jogging. The path starts to become…weird. Somehow, you can’t identify the same rocks, or the same bushes that would tell you you’re in the same path. No…you would only be cornered by some trees you didn’t recognize, bushes you never saw, different rocks and new sounds of animals nearby. Great…you’re lost. The focus wasn’t always a quality of you, you were just looking at your phone for some seconds, and managed to get lost in the path you always make. Immediately, you stop your movements, turning on your own body to look at your surroundings, only to make sure you’re lost, with no chance of coming back to where you came, since you have so many options ahead. With a loud empty and desperate sigh, you’re frozen in place, eyes wide open, lips parted and breathing fast from your mouth, you start to feel your chest ache, your lips dry and your vision blurry. This can’t be happening, it can’t be true. Everything you feared is now happening, you’re at the mercy of a strange forest, a cruel nature cycle in your surroundings would probably embrace you, making you their next food. You can feel a drop of sweat running down your forehead, not from the running, but from the fear, the knot in your guts making you tremble your legs like a leaf. The before calming breeze becomes colder, the moonlight above the leaves of the trees being the only light you could have, and the chronometer of your phone marking now fifteen minutes, you stop the time of your previous running, staring at the phone without knowing what to do anymore. Great, there’s no signal around here as well. You look behind to see any trails of where you came from, no success, there's now a few paths behind, like somehow they multiplied in front of your eyes, in a blink of an eye. With a defeated sigh, you look at the ground, staring at your own feet and realizing there’s actually no more to do, unless, trying to keep finding a way back to your home. Right now, you miss your cozy home, the warm sensation inside the walls, or your soft blanket on your body. Thoughts about food and water fill your brain, you can’t stand here too much longer. You look like a stray kitten, now absorbed by your fear, holding onto your phone for dear life, you take one of the paths randomly, hoping that it would lead you back.

As you walk into that path, he’s long, seems like a long path way back, and you sigh once more, feeling your body already tired while trembling in a bad sensation, a strange shiver, that makes your heart jumps out of your mouth, you felt weird, like you’re losing the strength to keep going, but you try your best to stand still in such an importunate turn of facts you suffered. When you look up, you can see the path ending in a sort of…gate. High rusty iron gates, and with some spikes on top of it, you look stunned by it. Behind that gate, there was a path to a big castle, such a grandiose building ahead, filled with darkness, and when the fog embraced it, making it even more mysterious to you. The magnificent cathedral type of building was chic, elegant and antique, a mark of a big rich family that lived there, you could suppose. With stunned awed eyes, you slowly open the gate, with a bit of strength to drag it on the floor. It was too old, it seemed like no one moved it in centuries, it was hard to move alone, but you managed to do so.The big garden had nothing but dead flowers, their colors looking gray and obliterated, it was such a pity that something so pretty was abandoned, the dead flowers were bent down, sadly withered. When you follow the way to the mansion, you stop in front of a unique wooden door. The knocker had an exquisite symbol, the face of an old man, with things you thought must be horns popping out of his forehead. What a weird thing to put right into your door, an agonizing face. Everything about this was calling for your attention, pulling you inside, either way, it could be better than staying in an open forest, lost in it. Your soft hands squeeze the handle, turning it slowly, afraid of what you may find behind that door. The creaky sound finds the way to your timpanes, making you frown your face, such a high pitched sound for an old door. When you open it, you’re mesmerized by the sight of that uncared for castle. There were furnites inside, photos, some dust all over of course, but there was life once. You step inside, slowly and looking everywhere for signs of some danger ahead, as you don’t see any, you enter completely at the big living room. An armchair, bookshelves with obsolete books, cobwebs all over it with dust that would make you sneeze as soon as you make contact with it, a fireplace, cold, and without any sign of recent fire. Gently, you make your way to a cabinet, there are framed pictures of a not so happy looking family, all together, their faces stoic, some of them being frowns, and others, just neutral. This was way better than being alone in the forest, exploring this big house would keep you distracted from the fear. You pat the armchair, taking out the dust and sitting on them for a moment, with a loud exhale that leaves your lungs. Feeling somehow comforted, you squirm your body and close your eyes, sleeping is a great idea, the next morning you would find a way back, now, you just need a good rest. As your eyes shut close and you hug into your own body, the rest of warmth here, it’s just from your body.

The only thing that doesn't let your mind completely drive you into a deep sleep, is a weird sensation on your spine, a shiver that runs along and makes you feel…observed. A steady breath against your face makes you jolt, eyes now wide open and a heartbeat not normal as it was a few seconds before. Opening your eyes, you find such a strange figure standing in front of you, steel blue eyes piercing your soul, pale skin that surely is not normal, red tinted lips and charcoal gray hair. This man was very close to your face, a stoic expression as he seemed to be examining you, his narrow face and clenched jaw turned to you, as if waiting for a response to a question he didn’t did. His clothes were rather old fashioned, he used some sort of black corset, a white ruffled blouse adorning his muscular body, long and tight black pants. You’re silent for a moment, just observing the man standing in front of you, before you could whisper anything out.

—"Sorry, i didn't know there was someone living here…" — You mumbles to that stranger, that you think it might be living here. He steps back for a moment and nods with his head.

—”What is a creature like you doing in my aposents?” — His voice is gravelly, it perks up your ears when you hear him. His words make you confused, ‘creature like me?’ you thought about it. You get up from the armchair, clearing your throat before speaking again.

—”I’m already leaving, m’sorry…” — Is what your bashful voice can say. But that stranger takes your wrist, his cold and surprisingly soft hands making you stop in place.

—”Not before you give me a proper explanation.”

—”I’m lost in the forest and i saw your home…i decided to get in for some shelter.”

—”Shelter? In an abandoned home? You humans think in such a weird way…” — The man chuckles to himself, and lets your wrist go. But his words made you even more confused, when he chuckles, you can see something different about him, his canines were much longer than normal.

—”What do you mean…’you humans’?”

—”Can’t you see what I am? Let me introduce myself properly.” — He spins his body, making such a dramatic movement to present himself. —”I’m Leon S Kennedy, former son of the big family who lived here once. I'm a creature who has been wandering alone for centuries, seeking for food.”

His presentation is someone actually dramaturgic, like something out of cheap fantasy books, and you can’t hold a laughter with it, what a joke, creatures don’t exist. When you laugh, his expression falls and he looks rather offended.

—”What? Don’t believe me?” — Leon looks at you and crosses his arms on his chest, seeing how you’re having fun with this, what is not a joke for him.

—”Creatures don’t exist.”

—”How are you so sure of that, my lady?” — A sly grin lights up his face, in a quick movement like the air, he moves behind your body, pressing his hands all the way to your arms until he reaches your shoulders. His dark voice so close to your ear makes you stop laughing slowly.

—”I never saw one.”

—”You’re just feeling one.” — His fingertips send shivers down your spine, pressing your shoulders with tenderness. —”Tell me your name, lady.”

—”I’m [Name]...”

—”[Name]...what a cute name for such a pretty face.” — The once cold man who was staring at you, starts to flirt with you quickly, and that makes you lift an eyebrow at him. It’s like he wants something, but you can’t deny how this ‘creature’ is charming.

—”I should…leave your house now.”

—”Oh, no, please! Make yourself comfortable, it’s been years since i saw a human so closely.” — Leon brings your body to the armchair once again, laying you there with delicate movements. He sits in front of you, on another armchair, his elbows resting on his knees as he’s glancing at you.

—”Okay. What do you want?”

—”Me? What a bad assumption to make, i’m simply looking for a companion after all those years alone.” — You lift an eyebrow at him, clearly not believing any of his words.

—”Okay, I want something.” — He gives in, throwing a hand up, and his flirty smile fades out, you nod with your head.

—”I’m not really sure of this, i really should leave.”

—”No, no, no! Please, stay! You have such a good smell that i don’t want you to leave.” — Smell? How weird, you’re literally sweating right now.

—”I’m sweating.”

—”And that’s why it’s good…human natural scent, i never saw something like this before so closely.” — Leon gets up, making his way at you, he bends down and his blue eyes turn red for a moment, you can swear it did. His nose creeps closer to your neck, leaving a hitched whimper escape from his lips and you look down at him, surprised.

—”Oh sorry, i couldn’t resist. Your smell is so tempting to my senses.”

—”What exactly are you?”

—”I’m a vampire, darling.” — As if it was obvious, he chuckles and steps back to see your reaction, you gulp down, feeling that knot in your gut once again. This night couldn’t get worse, and this feels like a dream.

—”So you’re gonna…drink my blood?”

—”Only if you let me do so, i can’t do without your permission. I’m a vampire, not a monster.” — This is actually funny, and makes you giggle softly, he has some rest of humanity on his mind, then. When you giggle, a grin grows on his face.

—”Would you let me do so?”

—”It hurts?”

—”I can’t lie, it sure does. But it will not kill you, and will be fast.”

—”At least…you were honest.”

—”I promise to only drink a little bit, by your smell, i can tell that you taste delicious.” — From a common night run to being sucked by a vampire, what a weird night this is. You really weren't expecting this. Your mind drives off, wondering how it would be like, without thinking much, you accept.

—”Okay…you can do it.”

—”Really? Oh, thank you for such a meal!” — He likes the idea, his voice sounding not so stoic as it was, now with a dripping lust on it. He makes his way behind you, bending down his body to get closer to your neck.

—”I can’t lie…you’re so pretty, if you allow me to say it.”

You can feel how much this creature creeps closer to your flesh, his figure towering over yours, still sitting on that armchair as he makes his way to your neck. You start to feel your heart jumping out of your throat, the feeling of what would come next eating you alive, the man presses a gentle kiss on your neck, to calm you down.

—"Now, now…don't worry. It will be fast." — It's not very calming, since you made a choice so fast. Maybe the desire of knowing something new, was the thing behind that quick choice of yours. Leon smiles when he feels his lips press on your skin, the human heat…how he missed that.

His fangs press against it, making your breath stop in your throat and making you close your eyes. There's no way to come back now, he slowly digs his fangs on your neck, the high pitched pain making you feel dizzy immediately, you yelp softly, your hands pressing the fabric of your gym shorts and your face turning into a frown. Leon starts to drink your blood, and you can feel the blood going out of your bloodstream to find the way down his throat, he drinks it like it was water, with soft whimpers in pleasure while he does so. He looks like he's enjoying this, and slowly, you become used to the feeling, the pain is not that hard to swallow anymore, and it's not that uncomfortable now.

—"You really…feel amazing." — The man whimpers once again, like a desperate creature seeking for food. When he notices that your eyelids are weak and almost closing again, he stops drinking your blood, having enough for a long while. Leon steps back, his lips painted with your blood, even dripping a little.

—"I should think more before acting…"

—"Oh come on, it was not that hard." — As you look over your shoulders, the sight makes you tremble. His Adam's apple was covered with your blood…teasingly slowly making its way even further down, it's so…hot, somehow. You clear your throat, noticing how his dark red eyes would come back to normal.

—"You really have an amazing taste, as I thought. I could drink your blood forever, my lady."

—"But i would die."

—"I would make sure to turn you into a vampire then, only if it would mean making such prettiness immortal." — You immediately turn your eyes up at him, with such a corny flirt like this. You get up, almost tripping on your feet as you feel drained by him.

—"Easy now, you need to take a rest and don't move for a while."

—"I need to go and find my way back home."

—"You can stay for the night, you said you were lost, no? I can't leave you lost in the forest." — It's weird how this creature has more of a sense of humanity than other humans. You look up to meet his eyes and nod quietly, feeling ashamed for staying at this strange house.

—"Thank you for staying, i really don't mind having a companion after all these years."

—"I…would like to know more about you."

—"Are you sure? I have plenty of stories to tell."

—"Yeah, this would distract me for a while."

—"Then come on, let's sit in front of the fireplace, and i can tell you some stories." — The creature is excited, with a grin ear to ear as he pulls you by the hand, and makes you sit down on the carpet, the fireplace without fire making everything…melancolic.

—"You're gonna have a loooong night here."

[danddymaro]

Kars W/ a sick Reader

Maybe fluffy. A very sweet Kars.

A hint of jealousy

word count: 2.117

Kars W/ a sick reader

Frustration knitted between his dark brows, the tension there existing as hard creases that remained even after he formed a lighter expression. Melting relief settled over his features as you stirred in his arms, slowly becoming responsive to his attentive care. 

- Or perhaps it was his one-sided conversation that had woken you.

Several days have passed already, and you were doing much better, he could attest to that. 

Thus far your temperature has eased from the terrible spike in heat. It was a  sign you were soon going to be better, and yet he felt the nagging, little ache in his chest persist. 

It was like the sting of a thin, sharp point striking his heart, cruelly prodding at such a rapid pace that he had no time to heal, no time to find a way to combat it.

It hurt him to see you in pain, and as he has you there in his arms, cradled like the precious little creature you are to him, he can’t deny it. 

He can’t act indifferent towards you, especially not when he’s convinced that the only reason you're doing better, is because he’s there. 

It hurts him so much he can’t think of anything else, prompting him to leave his leisure days to take on a different role. So, rather than be served himself, he becomes the one attentive to someone else’s needs, committing to your every necessity no matter how troublesome it may be.

You are his top priority.

He rarely left your side, and if he did, it wasn’t for long.

He couldn’t possibly leave you to the care of any of of his disgusting minions, that was for certain. They were pawns, and nothing more than that, certainly not ones that radiated trust.

The idea of you left alone with any of them had his blood boiling. Having any of them in your vicinity had him tasting something bitter when he noticed your discomfort. 

He’d taken notice of your reluctance to be around any of them, how much closer you come to him because you’re uneasy, so he wouldn’t put you through that, especially not during your most vulnerable state.

- And most certainly while he was away.

There had been another option, and while he trusted Esidisi and Wammu, something in him couldn’t allow any of them to have you so close.

He couldn’t deal with having anyone else behave so tenderly with you, he’d discovered that at first trial.

It hasn’t been long, but you’ve been feeling ill, and you struggled to show a brave face as you lived through it. It was a horrible habit you had to suffer in silence, to solve your own problems.

Besides, it hadn’t been so bad when Kars had left, it had been manageable, but it was as though you drastically worsened the farther he went. 

Even so, you said nothing, keeping it to yourself, not even wanting to bother the man that had stayed behind to watch you.

During his absence Kars assigned Wammu to watch over you as usual, and as expected he took the temporary position seriously.

He did as he typically did, shadowing you as you ventured to your heart’s content, even if it was outside during the day, an ability only he had between the three pillarmen.

He stayed at a distance until he had noticed your deteriorating health, and it prodded him to become even more attentive to you, becoming more than just someone that watched from a distance.

Soon after, he stayed four steps behind, a gesture of peace committed as he used another talent of his to ease you.

The soft breezes the short haired blonde creates for you have followed you, and during the insufferable temperatures your body has suddenly succumbed to, it feels refreshing. It’s like a touch of comforting spring visiting you, the air being a calming, tepid temperature, and you show your appreciation to him in the form of a soft smile.

A little thank you is also given, and he accepts in with a short nod and nothing else.

And then it happened ; 

Everything turned blurry before it went pitch black.

-It was just for a moment, a few seconds before you came back to, realizing you were supported by a strong arm that brought you close to Wammu as he saved your weakened body from a sudden fall.

Glowing jade eyes looked down at you, the hint of concern in them washing away as you woke and looked back at him with hazy eyes that slowly adjusted to the world.

.

.

.

“I’m fine...” you tell him, sounding certain even while you tried to find focus during your dizzy spell. 

However, your hands hold onto him with a desperate grasp that pleads for him to not let you go yet, and he understands the message, giving you more time to adjust.

Seeing your reaction he releases a soft sigh before lightly shaking his head with a minuscule smirk as he mused over a long gathered observation.

“-You are stubborn,” the blonde haired man comments, while recalling the very trait that has both amused and irked his master.

 “ Though strong too,” he proceeds reassuringly while still holding just a hint of amusement.

You were resistant, brave. 

During your first encounter with them you showed that, and even back then he’d let out a short snicker that morphed into a genuine chuckle as you stood your ground.

Perhaps he’d never said much to you, but he was observant to your qualities, and because you were with his master, he considered you utterly valuable. 

Even if Eisidisi couldn’t phathom as to any other reason why Kars would keep you around other than carnal pleasure, Wammu had more or less understood. After all, every now and then your species enticed a tickle of curiosity in him.

Loyalty and bravery were traits he considered honorable. For such small, feeble creatures to posses such traits, it was endearing.

And he found it amusing how even his own master could form an attachment with a human.

As he looked down at you he mused over how a being so small could move a creature as powerful as Kars. 

You could make him smile with a single one of your own, and that was an ability no one else had.

Even if Kars had never spoken about what it was that he felt for you, it was implied, heavily. 

You were precious to him, so it was all the more reason to take care of you during his absence.

As he held you in his arms, you struggled to stay conscious, but even then you’re aware of where he is, of how much dedication he has to you. Whether it’s because he truly cares, or because it’s an order, it’s there, and it makes you keep your smile.

Moreover, the very compliment has you touched.

.

.

.

If anyone treated you with the upmost respect and utter delicacy it was Wammu. And while Kars had never had a problem with it, he did when he came back to find you embraced by him.

It wasn’t like Kars considered the idea of Wammu ever betraying him, and he trusted you too..

There was nothing to doubt, yet, watching you cradled within someone else’s arms, cared for and looked upon with such genuine tenderness...

It had him feeling a twisting feeling in his gut that he’s never felt before. 

He thought about how your soft kisses could belong someone else, how each of the feather light ones that wake him could descend upon some one else’s flesh. 

He recalls how wonderfully you fit into his embrace, how your body is so soft and warm, fitting perfectly between the space that’s there between his arms and the rest of his body. It’s indescribable how much serenity he experiences while having you so close, sharing warmth.

The addictive scent of your fragrance mingled with his comes to mind, and he feels an uneasy feeling when he thinks about any other masking his, or replacing it entirely.

A great ‘what if ‘ struck him, and it made him act, moving towards you two with boiling blood.

It festers in him until your eyes land on him and that wonderful sparkle in them occurs. 

You then jump away from the other man, excited to find him back. He can hear it in the little chirp you release that’s his name. 

Seeing your reaction when he steps forward makes him feel yet another feeling that struck at his heart, damning him for whatever that initial, bitter one was.

You looked so happy to see him, so genuinely sweet, and you were so quick to greet him that it just worsened that feeling he would later recognize as long lost guilt.

“I missed you,” you told him, and he notices how tired you look, how worn you seem. 

He doesn’t realize how his own eyes soften, how he stares longingly like he’s missed you for too long.

Kars silently curses at your pathetic humanity, how illnesses fall upon you with such ease, and what’s worse, that he can do nothing about it but helplessly watch as you succumb to them.

He positions you to better sit up, one of his arms placed across your back  as your head rests on his shoulder to hold you up as his other reaches out to the beverage he’s prepared for you.

Slowly, he brings the edge of the cup to your lips, gently tilting it so your tongue is drowned by a rather bitter taste of herbs that makes you release a discontent hum.

- Even that little sound irks him, it has him feeling utterly helpless, and he continues to wear the hard lines of frustration on his face.

A feather light kiss then grazes your hairline, his lips pressing the warm, sweat moistened spot with tenderness that lasts as he remains there. It’s a tart taste he’s certain you despise with how much you appose, and the only thing he can really do to combat it is offering you something sweeter. 

- A sugary, little peck that tells you it’s for your own good.

“Kars?” the sound of your voice, so soft and frail makes him bring you closer to him, the grand beast demonstrating a nurture that was foreign to him, and exists only for you.

A low hum of his greets you  before another kiss touches you, landing right on your nose that twitches under the touch. 

You’ve barley been awake throughout it, and to finally hear you say something, most of all his name, it calms him.

“  vexing little thing...” he huffs , “ I can’t leave you alone for even a moment,” he says with just a touch of annoyance, but there’s adoration there too, so much that you giggle. 

The way Kars shows his fondness of you is with little remarks such as those.

 Teasing you is his way, his love language. 

He aims for a kiss on the lips, but is stopped by a little hand that presses against his chest, “You can’t,” you tell him, your still voice small and hoarse.

He stopped, genuine surprise written on his face before he narrows his eyes at you,  his lips which were already pouted and ready to press to yours drop into a frown.

He looks insulted , and while the face is one that’s unpleased, it makes you actually grin before you chuckle.

“I’m sick,” you remind him, and he scoffs, his eyes rolling. 

“And?” he huffs. “- I've kissed you plenty already,” he says under his breath, not understanding the issue, and after he says it, you feel incredibly warm in your stomach. 

The little kisses that have peppered over your face throughout the past few days haven't been your imagination, and when you realize that, you’re practically glowing. 

And you take his teasing, little chiding as an actual possibility, 

“I haven’t been alone...for even a moment,” you mutter with a touch of disbelief, thinking about all the instances you felt him close.

You knew you mattered to him, but not that much, not so much as to nurture you back to health.

Color fills his cheeks before he blows an exasperated breath between his lips,

“Your kind is so weak,” he starts, looking away from you, “ you need my constant supervision,” he states, which of course he believes.

But for some reason it’s a struggle to admit.

“- All of your attention?” you say while batting your eyes and stretching your arms out for him to coddle you, which he does. 

He falls in without a second thought, though he lets out a huffy breath.

his nose grazes over your jaw, and little smooches greet you there while you close your eyes  and continue to smile. 

“Of course,” he sweetly murmurs. 

One of your hands cradles his cheek as he continues to kiss you.

He eases you from his lap, completely laying you down your bedding as he takes a position that had him above you before he offers you a kiss to your lips. 

That beautiful waves of plum that surround you have rebellious strands that tickle your face as he withdraws, and the moment of peace is one you want to last.

Swallowing down thickly you then plea with him, demanding what you’ve wanted to for a while,

“Stay with me,” you tell him, never having asked him for anything else before. 

- never needing anything more.

As you’re slowly recovering you’re afraid he’ll take it as a sign he can leave, and it has you saddened.

You want to have him all to yourself, to feel all of his attention on you, and be able to react to it too.

“...Please?” you breath, and even while drained of your color, utterly helpless, he notes every feature of yours as lovely.

His smile is rather arrogant, and it’s more of a smirk as you speak, and he takes a moment to answer, offering you unneeded suspense because either way, he hadn’t planned to leave any time soon, 

“As you wish,” he murmurs with another kiss.

[egittae]

"So you've made it this far?" As before, Matthias approached the other man, a glass of water in hand. "It's not so hard when you properly apply yourself. I hope you've learned that lesson well now." He sat next to him on the small little porch, the overhang protecting them from the sun. "I'm-" There was a pause and he turned to fully face Lambert. "I'm glad to call you my king. Even if you aren't all there yet...I'm glad I was able to see this side of you, even if only for a moment." He took a sip from his own glass and it was refreshing. No matter what happened next, he could be satisfied with his own performance and with the man he called a dear friend. "After we win this, I'll make sure to reconcile my earlier insolence...so make sure we do, Lamby." The nickname was punctuated by a small bump of the shoulder and a head quickly turned away, as if to hide the expression that colored it.

“Hah, when you say it like that…sadly, I fear that I did not do much compared to my partner. I was tasked with fetching us points, but Tormod’s quest made my efforts seem like an afternoon stroll.” I will make up for him later. “We both did our best, but I feel improper. I should be doing much more than this.”

Lambert genuinely felt bad. His part of the game has been fairly easy and monotonous- wander around the maze and fetch some cards, with only the ending portion bringing a more dramatic factor to the equation. If anything his part had been stupidly easy compared to what Tormod had gone through alongside the others at the rose maze outside. 

While his partner raced through the entire house caked in mud and more likely exhausted and sore, Lambert was fine. He didn’t escape from any pitfalls, nor got dragged off by huge birds or anything. He was fine, and in the end both managed to pull through together.

And somehow that had weighed on him tremendously, to the point he felt that the whole ordeal had lasted an entire moon. It was shameful to say, but he was tired- if not physically, mentally. He wasn’t sure if it was the roaming around a mostly silent maze with only disembodied voices in the distance as his company, or if perhaps everything that had happened in the first two weeks had finally begun taking a toll on the professor’s psyche, but Lambert felt so very tired.

But it wouldn’t show. If there was one thing Lambert had already noticed was that his mind and body seemed to have a natural reflex to not allow exhaustion to become transparent. There wasn’t even an effort on his part, to the point he only noticed what was happening after he sat down and really thought about it- shortly before going to the porch and being joined by Matthias.

It made sense, though. It would be quite poor for a king’s image to be seen taken by fatigue. 

I'm glad to call you my king.

He couldn’t exactly agree. Said king, if it was indeed the case, was still far too lost in the blizzard. The trail was there and Lambert was diligently following it, but he’d be lying if he were to say he had a grasp on who he was supposed to be.

“...when you say it like that, I have no option but to hold on to it, do I? Even with no crown to claim.”

But then again, even if that grasp was weak, he had to believe in himself and on who he was. Because if he didn’t, who would? Matthias claimed he would, but Lambert knew the man’s faith in him could waver the moment any weakness or hesitation became noticeable. If Lambert truly wished to become himself again, it would have to start with him believing in himself. It was his conviction and will that made him king once, and it would be them that would make him king a second time.

“Reconcile your insolence by returning victorious, then. If not, then I might have to tell Rodrigue that you lost big time in a beach vacation game in front of an audience.” He winked with a small smile.

Lambert didn’t even know whose name that was, but it just slipped through his slips- and it just sounded right.

[ch2rub]

~ Who are you? ~ A Mischa x Reader fic

Ch-4/1

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

Posted onto all platforms- July 24, 2024

You open your eyes to be met with darkness. Only a bit of the moonlight being let into your room from a small window. You look towards you alarm clock to see it says 3:00 am. As you sit up drowsily with you school uniform sticking to your skin with sweat, you sit to think.

'never should've taken that nap.'

you sat there feeling disgusting and not at all refreshed. Like you didn't just wake up from a long nap. You rub your eyes to get rid of some of the crust as you realize some problems.

1. you smell horrible.

2. You have so much homework you weren't able to get done.

3. There is something up with this town.

You start on the first problem. opting to get up and walk towards the bathroom upstairs to take a shower. Trying to be a quiet as you can but of course everything is ten times louder than it normally would be. With each step the stairs let out a loud creek. You tried your best to shuffle on the floor boards to minimise the amount of sound your making but it did nothing to dampen each groan the wood made. After having to travel through the dark halls of your new house, almost getting lost in the large home you were able to arrive in the bathroom. Letting out a sigh as you got ready to clean yourself. You strip and turned on the shower to let it heat up. After a minute the shower was at your perfect temperature so you stepped inside.

Feeling you body relax as you let the warm water cascade down your back. You stand in the shower for a second, letting your brain process everything that has happened so far. After moving to uranium everything seemed to have happened so fast you couldn't get a moment to relax and think. It was only wednesday and yet so much has happened since you arrived on sunday. As you stood there you thought back onto the previous days and everything that had happened. As far as you know this town makes feels a little off. Not only was it those two girls you met yesterday but the constant feeling that you are being watched. Last night you immediately assumed you had a stalker but after some thinking, this is a really small town. Nothing that interesting would be happening here. Especially to you. Nothing ever happens to you that's odd. Except for what you saw earlier in your moms studio.

You shudder as you think back on it. You tried to forget it but it stays in your mind. You decide to think about it later as you continued your shower. Once you were done you turned of the showerhead and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a warm towel around you and grabbing your dirty uniform. You quickly made you way through the dark hallways down into your room. You quickly change into a large t shirt and some shorts. You sit down on your bed and decide to do the homework you didn't do earlier in the day. Grabbing your bag you pull out notebooks and pencils getting to work.

.........

After 10 minutes or so you've finished all of the work. 'fucking hate math' You set your pencil down and stuff everything into your bag. A quick glance to the clock next to your bed lead you to the decision that you should get to sleep. Hoping you wont feel like shit for being up so late, you let yourself fall onto your pillow. Trying to close your eyes and rest but of course it's not that easy. You shuffle around a little bit trying to get comfortable under your blankets but nothing helps. You curl up into yourself under your covers trying to fall asleep and not let your thoughts eat at you. Knowing yourself you knew the longer you stayed awake the more you'll think about the stuff you continue to try and avoid. The feelings and experiences you wished would just disappear. Some recent some older.

You finally start dozing off after many, many minutes. Before you know it you wake up again but not in the same place you fell asleep. Well it is the same place but it looks different. It looks like how it was when you moved in. Except more lived in. You sat up confused looking around. You noticed a teen in your room. Pacing back and forth in front of the bed, Mumbling something under his breath.

The boy ran his fingers through his dark raven hair. He has olive skin and kissable lips. His brows furrowed as he continues to stress out about something you have no clue about. You continue to stare at him. Sort of locked in a trance. Admiring the way his lips move and the way his fingers comb through his soft hair. You continue to look him up and down. Looking at his dark brown eyes and the way they shift around the room. He stops his pacing and slumps down onto the floor. Sitting against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest. Resting his head onto his legs and interlocking his hands around his knees. This sudden movement knocks you out of the trance you where in as you start to panic.

"Hello?!" You shout. Hoping to find some answers as to who he is, what happened to the room you were occupying, and why he was in that said room. Your shout landed onto deaf ears as the boy continues to sit against the wall. You slowly get up from the bed and walk towards him. Taking a deep breath as you try and tap him. Trying to get his attention. This leads to your hand going through his arm as if you were a hologram. You gasp and back up from the boy. Starting to freak yourself out, you sit down next to him. Having no clue what to do. As you sit there the sound of sniffing got you attention. You turn your head towards the boy next to you. You see his shoulder shaking and quiet sobs coming from the boy. You feel empathy and wish you could comfort the stranger but after your first failed attempt you don't try to touch him again. Not wanting to make yourself panic more.

You look around the room to see it emptier than it was when you first moved in. You notice no posters adorning the walls, or some of the little things that were put in there that gave it character. It looked more empty that it did when you first arrived. You look back to the boy next to you. His figure dwarfing you although both of you were sat. You tilt your head slightly as you try and make out the words silently coming for his lips. The harder you tried to listen and figure out what he was saying the less sense it made. The words sounded like gibberish. Like he was speaking different language. You didn't know what language it was but it sure as hell wasn't english. He looked up and wiped his eyes. The sight of his red puffy eyes and red nose caused your heart to squeeze. Seeing him in this state saddened you more than you thought it would. Of course you felt empathy for the crying boy. You wouldn't be human if you didn't, but you felt bad for him in a different way. Almost like seeing you life long friend break apart. The only difference being is that you didn't know this boy. He was a stranger. Seeing his beautiful eyes water as tears threatened to continue spill made you want to reach out and hug him. To hold him tight and comb your finger through his soft hair. To whisper into his ear and tell him everything would be ok.

"Fucking pathetic" He mutters. Standing up from the ground and wiping his eyes one last time. This snapped you out of your thoughts as you took notice to his heavy accent. He grabbed a small ipod from the nightstand next to the mattress and plugged the headphones into his ears. Closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall as he sat down onto the makeshift bed. Breathing in and out a couple of times. While this happens all you can think about is his accent as you continue to stare at him. Caught up in the same trance you were in earlier. You wish you can hear him speak again. Finding to adore his heavy accent right away.

You eyes quickly snap open after an alarm blared into you ear. Rolling onto your side with a groan you slap you alarm clock to turn it off.

7:00 AM

With a sigh you turn back onto you back. The boy was a dream. You kinda wish it wasn't. Thinking about his ebony locks and thick accent. Omg do you long to hear him speak again. To have him whisper into you ear while he held you close to himself. He was the boy of you dreams. Key word being dreams as he does not exist and never will. He was just some kid in you dream. There's no reason to continue to think about him.

You shake you head, trying to get rid of your thoughts as if you were an etch-a-sketch. You sit up and stretch your arms above you hea, hearing the joints pop. You lazily get out of the bed and walk up the stairs to get ready for the day. You walk into the bathroom and do your business. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, and using the restroom. You walk down into your room and get dressed into your uniform. You head back up the stairs into the kitchen to have some breakfast. Expecting to see you mother in the kitchen it caught you off guard when she was nowhere to be seen. Your first thought was that she just slept in late but you know your mother. You know she never sleeps in.

You look up to the door of her room to see it shut. You quickly look outside and still see her car parked in the driveway so you decide to go with the option that it was a one off day, and she did sleep in late. Everything was fine. You tried to convince yourself that but you knew it wasn't true. Whatever was going on here was not right. You start making yourself a bowl of cereal so you don't end up being late. You quickly poor some milk into the bowl after pouring your favorite cereal. You grab a spoon and start eating. After a couple of minutes you place the dirty dishes into the sink and walk towards the door. Grabbing you skateboard that was resting to the side of the door and opening it. You walk down your driveway and take a running start before you lay down the board and hop onto it. The running start giving you some momentum to start riding straight away.

.........

You arrive at your school. Yay :/

You get to your homeroom, not stopping at your locker because you opted to bringing your bag with you everywhere. You sat down at the desk you claimed as your own and looked around the room once or twice. Hoping to see Penny's face again, as usual. Or maybe even the two new girls you met. Ocean and Constance. Were they a little weird. Yeah, but you need to make new friends. As expected you didn't see the three girls but that wasn't what was bothering you. As much as you didnt want to admit it that boy you saw in your dream was still on your mind. A little of you hoping that he would be in your class. Although you knew how unlikely it was and that this was just some random guy your brain created, there was still a little part of you hoping that one day you would meet him. Maybe even just admire him from afar.

You took a deep breath. Closing your eyes and laying your head against your desk. You had about 20 mins of free time in homeroom. Not having any work to do, or any friends to talk to. You sat there with your head against your desk and your eyes close. Imagining how life would be like if it was perfect. If you never left the city to this small town. If you were with the boy from your dreams. If you .... if you met your father.

The loud ring of the bell took you out of your last thought. Making you get up from your desk, slinging your bag onto your shoulder and trudging off to you next class. The rest of the day went on like this. Going to class sitting down, and taking the required notes. While you arm moved over the paper to write down the info, you weren't really absorbing the information. Barley even paying attention. Your head still being in the clouds. At the beginning of first period you decided the thought of your Father wasn't worth it. There was a reason he left. There was a reason why you never met him. That unknown reason must've been enough that your mother would cringe at his name. Why he was never brought up in conversations.

You decided to leave it at that. You father wasn't worth the thought and that was that. You never knew why your father left but you never pried. Knowing how much it hurt you mother. If it pained her that much to think about it than you would never ask. Not wanting to put your mother through the tremendous amount of emotional pain that it caused her. There was this one time you asked about your father. You remember like it was yesterday. When you were little you always hoped that your father would come back. You never met him and seeing all of your friends have healthy relationships with their fathers hurt your little heart. You didn't understand why your father left, or even the fact that he abandoned you both. You thought that he left for a trip but was gonna come back. You felt satisfied leaving it at that. Making sense for you childish brain. That was until you turned seven. Finally becoming a big kid in you brain you thought you deserved to know.

Before you would alway be left in the dust. Being told that you were to young to know, and that you would understand when you were older. They were right about that. You younger self didn't get it. With that when you and your mother were setting up chairs for your birthday you assigned a seat for each person. Having yourself sit at the head of the table because it was your birthday. You left the two seats next to you empty. The right one being where you mother would sit, and the left your father. Your mother asked why you were leaving the left one empty. You told her it was for you dad when he would come back with you birthday present. A birthday present for all of the birthdays he missed. That's what you told your mother. You were convinced he would come back on your birthday. each year imagining him with a present bigger than the last. That's what you younger brain always tried to tell yourself. That that's why you wanted him there. Other than that you were fine with your mother.

Now you understand that that wasn't the truth. You know you longed for a father figure. For someone to take care of you the way your friends fathers would take care of them. Of course you still had your mother but that was different. It's different between a way a mother parents compared to a father. Without both you felt like you were missing out. Like there was a part of you heart that was missing. Now you know it will forever be missing. You had to learn that truth on that fateful day. Seeing you mothers smile falter and eyes slightly water. In her mind she new he was never gonna come back. Seeing you with that large toothy grin. Eyes sparkling with hope. Seeing her expresion told you the truth. You were young but you were smart. You were able to notice her smile falter and eyes slightly water. Seeing that told you all you needed to know. Hearing her response further deepen the blade. The fact that he wasn't coming back and never will.

"BRRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGG"

You were taken from your thoughts by the bell for the second time that day. This time you were grateful for it. Knowing that if nothing took you from the thought of you father you would forever sit there. Thinking about that painful thought forever. Grabbing your bag you start walking towards the choir room. It was lunchtime and you finally gave up on looking for Penny. You already knew at this point that she wasn't going to be in the lunch room so why try. A small part of you wanted to go to the lunch room to try and look for those dark caramel brown eyes. To see those beautiful features again. Your brain stopped your heart from looking for you dream boy. Anyone would be able to tell that he would only be a dream. Only being able to see him while you daydream.

You walk down the same eerie hall that lead to the choir room. Feeling the same anxiety you felt everytime you walk down this hall. Why do you feel this way, you had no qlue. Maybe it was the way the air always seemed colder down this hall. The breeze causing you to shiver. Maybe it was the way there seemed to be no lights down the hall. Giving the hall a creepy darkness to it. The only light source being a window. A window that birds seemed to love throwing themselves at as another crow flew into it. You jumped from the unexpected thump from the bird forcefully hitting the glass. You look towards the window to be met with the gruesome sight of two dead birds. One you remember being a day older, as yesterday a crow threw itself full force at the window.

You turn back to face forward. Being freaked out at the fact that two day in a row a crow flew into the same window you quickly walked to the choir room. Not full on sprinting but quicker than a normal walk. You open the choir room down and quickly closed it behind yourself. You slightly caught off guard by a new item being in the room. Among the usual dusty boxes, your met with a canvas being propped on on of the boxes. You walk closer to it recognizing the figure painted onto the canvas. It's the same painting that you saw in your mother's studio.

The figure of a girl in a saint cassian uniform without a head being painted onto the canvas with shaky and disheveled lines. You can tell that each shake in the lines where the same as the painting from you home. This was the same painting that you mother made. How did it get to you school you had no idea. You didn't think about it for long as a chill went along your spine as you started to see it move again. It moved its arms up showing a porcelain doll. The doll had curly hair and pitch black holes for eyes. The girl let go of the doll. Letting it drop with an ear piercing crack. The doll somehow managed to make it out of the painting. Dropping onto the ground in front of you. The porcelain head cracking off of it neck. Slowly rolling to your feet.

Your eyes grew wide staring at the head, slightly kicking it with you foot. Making it roll and have the face face you. The dark beady eyes staring at you. You quickly turn your head at the painting. Seeing the girl move again she reached her hands out. Grabbing the edges of the painting. You watch as the headless girl try and pull herself out of the painting. Her finger being fully in your reality. You were able to see her ghostly white skin being stained with a sicking red. Presumably blood from her wounds.

"Watcha doing?" You feel an ice cold hand be place onto you shoulder. You quickly turn around to be met with a familiar face. You quickly turn back to the painting to see it gone completely as if it was never there. The only thing being proof of its existence being the broken doll laying at your feet.

Making this two parts cuz this chapter is long. Sorry

[cherryboberryfefifoferry]

long awaited, finally here. thanks for your patience and hope you all enjoy :) part iii coming soon!

part i. part iii. part iv. masterlist

leviathan x idol!reader: part ii

it had been a few months since that afternoon, and it was safe to say you and levi were now best friends :)

you two had a routine — once you were done studying for the day, you’d sit in his room and debrief, talking about everything that you didn’t cover over text, and on friday evenings you watched a new episode of the latest anime together, analyzing and theorizing its contents afterwards.

the two of you were inseparable, and while you were close with (almost) all of the boys, your connection with levi was different.

your time together was filled with fun, laughter, inside jokes, and friendly competition, and levi couldn’t be more grateful for your companionship. but…

no, there was no but, levi had tried convincing himself over and over again. everything was just fine as is. there was nothing else he needed or desired. but there was.

he just didn’t want to admit it to himself, or anyone else.

however, as the days went by, it grew harder and harder to deny it, and every morning and evening when he saw you, it grew harder and harder to keep the words buried.

one day, maybe, but not now… or maybe ever. just this was enough.

except it wasn’t. despite his best attempts, he was the avatar of envy, and every day he craved more and more of your time, of your attention.

and for the most part, he had it. as your best friend, you spent every day together… except for one.

there was one (1) day where you were completely unreachable. (☹️)

saturdays, unfortunately (and inconveniently, because literally everything fun in the devildom happened on saturdays), were declared “you days” by lucifer himself. they had been yours since the day you arrived in the devildom, and would continue to be so until you left.

the other brothers were instructed to leave you be and to not seek you out on saturdays, as, per lucifer, “everyone needed time to themselves,” and this was the one day of the week you could have that. however, you weren’t using them in the way they would’ve expected.

when you first arrived, you deemed lucifer a trustworthy source and told him about your idol status and career back on earth. seeing your predicament, he gave you saturdays to visit earth and practice or perform with the rest of your group, and arranged for one of the empty rooms in the house to be converted into your own private studio for the rest of the week.

he somehow also managed to ensure you received a lighter homework load over the weekend, which you had thanked him endlessly for (and to which he beamed proudly in response, saying it was the least he could do).

this arrangement seemed to work well enough, and allowed for your group to still remain active, even if it wasn’t ideal — it severely hindered your group’s schedule, as you could only promote and perform as a group one day a week, but as far as individual tasks go, you were able to complete most of your own work in the devildom and send it over to your manager back on the surface.

because of this, it became customary for your group to film and prepare content in advance so that when you arrived, you could fill in your parts and get it over to the editing team as quickly as possible.

and of course, it only became natural for you and levi to consume the content together as soon as it dropped on sunday evenings. he’d have everything set up in advance, auto-refreshing his page, and the minute a new stage performance, talk show appearance, miniseries episode, vlog, or live dropped, you were at his door no less than 20 seconds after he pinged you with you guys’ favorite snacks in tow ^^

you both fangirled over everything, levi more than you — especially over vega (you !! unfortunately you weren’t about to out yourself so you had to hide most of your reactions, no matter how flustered you got) — and every so often you’d lean over and whisper a piece of trivia in his ear that even he didn’t know, which was practically impossible because he knew (almost) everything there was to know about galaxea, of course… but you got a pass 😌

and at the end of the night, when he could tell you were sleepy and dozing off on his shoulder, the voice in his head screamed, practically begged him to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer to his side.

he couldn’t help the blush that crept onto his face at the thought, but every time he nudged you awake, murmuring softly in your ear that you both had class the next morning and should head to bed… properly. and every time, you nodded and smiled at him sleepily, raised yourself off his floor and walked to his bedroom door, waving and slurring that you’d see him in the morning. and every time, as soon as you were gone, he sighed and stared at where you once stood, the words he left unsaid stuck in his throat.

and every time… henry looked at him with what appeared to be amusement.

“like you’d know what i’m struggling with,” levi scoffed as he rolled his eyes, shutting off his computer in the process.

“they’re just a friend, is all,” he rationalized, nodding to himself.

“right? we’re friends. that’s it.”

but when he turned to henry, he saw how pathetic he looked as his reflection stared back at him. the glimmer of hope in his eyes was unmistakable even in the dim lighting of his room.

dejected, levi would end the conversation, and his night, by throwing himself into his bathtub, pulling his ruri-chan body pillow close, connecting his headphones, and shuffling his galaxea playlist, huffing in annoyance as he closed his eyes.

and every time, he’d replay his evening with you in his imagination, focusing on every detail of you, the rest of the world fading into the background… just like it did the day he met you.

the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, the contagiousness of your smile, how your eyes sparkled, the way you mouthed along to your favorite lines, your glossy lips, the signature scent of your perfume… all of it had been committed to levi’s memory, and it was those thoughts of you that kept him company during his sleepless nights.

and the next morning, after class, he’d join you in your dance studio, learning galaxea’s newest choreo alongside you or helping you create your own, burying his thoughts from the night before deep in his mind.

for months, this was how you spent your days — until possibly the biggest pop-culture news to have ever dropped shook all of the three realms, and caused levi to start his morning practically screaming in excitement.

in big bold words, the headline said “GALAXEA TOUR ANNOUNCED — A MAJOR SURPRISE TO FANS EVERYWHERE”

did you know? you had to know, of course you did. but what if you didn’t? he had to tell you !!!

and so, the rest of the house of lamentation was awoken to levi yelling your name at the top of his lungs as he practically flew down the hallway on all fours, racing to your bedroom.

he could care less about the yells of annoyance and curses directed at him from his brothers as he made haste, skidding to a stop in front of your door.

he knocked with so much force he almost broke it, wincing at the splinters sticking out of his knuckles, but this was more important.

“y/n! y/n !!! y/n, come on, it’s urgent!”

he took a step back as you slowly opened your door, yawning as you rubbed your eyes, your bed head evident.

“levi, my alarm doesn’t go off for another half hour, couldn’t it have waited—“

“GALAXEAISGOINGONTOURAREYOUHEARINGMEGALAXEAISGOINGONTOURANDTHEY’REPERFOEMINGINTHEDEVILDOMOHMYGOD”

you blinked at him, your mouth slightly agape as he rapidly listed off the tour dates and when the ticket pre-sale would begin, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, or the way your heart beamed at his excitement.

he looked so happy, and as he grasped your hands in his to jump up and down giddily, the reality of the situation hit you.

your band, galaxea, the biggest in all of the realms, was going on tour. how were you going to attend the concert with levi while performing on stage as vega, his bias?

even with all the magic at your disposal, there’s no way you could do both. you were going to have to make a choice, and your decision would permanently alter the course of your life.

were you going to attend with levi and disappoint millions of your fans, potentially harming your career? or disappoint levi by abandoning him and performing on stage?

and when levi looked at you with nothing but joy, his big eyes brimming with anticipation, your decision was made.

you were a terrible friend. but he would understand one day… right?

[ravs6709]

Don't Worry Yourself Sick - Fedex

Word count: ~0.8k words

@kamikothe1and0nly hi!!! you asked for fedex sickfic and i delivered (well kinda, its less sickfic and more feels but)!! takes place right during neverseen, right after the fitz gets stabbed by bug, but before they head off to exilium!

sorry if its on the shorter end, am attempting to get back into the flow of writing again

warnings: none

Hope you enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex sat hunched over on the bed, fiddling with one of his gadgets. Several others were strewn all over around him. Fitz's back hurt just thinking about how uncomfortable the position looked.

"Dex?"

No response. Fitz took a few step forwards, his knees buckling. He managed to grab a piece of furniture to stabilize himself, but not before stubbing his toe.

Dex whipped around, startled. "What are you doing here? You should be resting."

Fitz raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be resting too?"

"I'm not the one who almost died."

"I just need to drink that gross tea one more time, I'm basically recovered."

Fitz took another step forward, his knees buckling briefly again.

"Looks recovered to me, Wonderboy."

"I haven't walked in days, I can not be blamed."

Dex rolled his eyes, moving his inventions off to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for Keefe," Fitz replied.

"He's with Sophie, deciphering his memories or whatever," Dex said, not looking at him.

Part of him wanted to go join them. Maybe him being Sophie's cognate would help. But if he went there, they'd both fuss over his condition. Instead, he sat down on the newly-made available free space on the bed. Dex turned to him and raised an eyebrow at him, but when he didn't say anything, Dex turned back and picked up the Twiggler. He'd never really sat around Dex like this before, since Dex usually worked alone. Fitz found himself just a little bit entranced by his habits: humming, the occasional cursing, all as if he'd already forgotten that Fitz was sitting right there.

He probably should have been more annoyed at the accidental ignorance of his presence, but honestly, he found it almost refreshing. 

When Fitz started noting the slight red flush on Dex's cheeks, he tore his eyes away, a blueprint catching his eye. It was all wrinkled as if it'd gotten wet and crumpled and tossed around, with harsh scribbled written all over. He recognized that invention. It was the cube that had blown up and gotten Fitz accidentally stabbed. All the scribbles were questioning why it ended up resulting in injury. Heart heavy, he looked away, and while the other blueprints didn't look nearly as worn down, they all had lots of scribbles. He was no technopath, but he knew this must have been the work of dozens of late nights.

Fitz looked back at Dex, his face still flushed. "It wasn't your fault, you know that, right? I told you, I don't blame you."

Dex started as if remembering there was another person in the room. "Yeah yeah, so you've said. Still, I need to do everything I can so that it won't happen again."

"You work too hard, you need to rest."

"Everyone's been working so hard. I don't---I don't want to talk about this with you."

Fitz sighed, but understood. He would never understand what Dex Dizznee had gone through, knew that even now, Dex didn't really like him. Instead,  he put a hand on his shoulder, and said, "You've been doing well so far."

Dex stilled. Even with the cloth of his shirt separating, Dex felt warm to the touch. Fitz moved his hand up to his forehead.

"Wonderboy?" Dex asked, his voice a groggy murmur. As Fitz expected, his face was feverish. He even leaned into the hand for a half second, before pulling away, a scowl on his face, but way too weak.

"You're sick," he said.

"'m not," Dex replied. "You're sick."

An amused huff came out. "I'm getting Physic."

Dex raised an eyebrow. "And have her ask why you're out of bed too?"

"Oh. Damn it. But I'm making sure you go to sleep. Do you arrange your stuff any particular way?"

"Nah, just shove it in a corner."

He picked up all the papers and neatly put them in a stack, resting them on the nightstand, and carefully placing the half-made inventions on top. He grabbed a full Bottle of Youth and passed it to Dex. "Drink up, recover fast."

Dex smiled. "You don't have to nurse me back to health."

Fitz smiled back. "We'll all need you at full strength."

"Yeah, I get it." He downed half the bottle, then put it back on the nightstand. "Oh yeah, Keefe stole your dragon, kinda just threw it at me and told me to keep it hidden for now."

Fitz held Mr. Snuggles close. "I'm getting back at him for that... it's comfortable, and I don't want to get back up."

"Just sleep here, bed's big enough."

Fitz raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Ugh, just accept before I take it back."

"Nope---you made the offer!"

"I'm so gonna regret it. I blame the fact that I'm sick."

They both went under the covers, carefully spaced away from each other. Still, Fitz felt that this was the closest they'd been so far. Maybe they could even get closer.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Kotlc taglist: @my-swan-song, @stellarune, @impostertamsong, @subrosasteath @autistic-daydreamer

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc taglist? Just let me know!

[gmxrk]

the taste of salt [part 2 of 3]

Miguel x female reader

Summary: Miguel want's you to be part of the spicer society. He's even inviting you for dinner to convince you.

Tags: mutual pining, eventual romance, eventual smut

smut will follow in the last chapter.

Your feet carried you through the streets of New York. After university you’d took a shower, jumped into clean clothes and refreshed your make-up. You were walking slowly, not too rushed, even though it was already five minutes past six. But you wanted to appear calm and collected. There was no reason to be nervous, you only were going to have dinner with him. To talk about business.

Right?

Nothing more.

If he showed up in the first place. To be honest, you could hardly imagine him being serious about today. That he would actually spend some of his very limited free time with you. He wouldn’t actually do that.

Right?

Well, he proved you wrong. Even in the darkness you recognised him immediately by his ruffled hair and broad shoulders. He was leaning on a wall, his back turned to you. People glanced at him while they walked past, especially young women.

Did your stomach drop or your heart sink? You stopped walking, seriously considering chickening out, but he already turned around, looking right into your eyes. However he knew you where here, since you learned he didn’t have a spider sense.

After taking another deep breath, you covered the remaining distance beween you and him.

»Sorry for the delay, but here I am.« You had to tilt back your head to make eye contact with him.

He looked at you without saying anything, just as he did when you first met. As if he wasn’t sure what to make of you. But then the corner of his mouth tugged into the tiniest of smile. »I see you decided to join me.«

That made you laugh. »I see you actually showed up.«

His eyebrow raised. »Even on time.« He then pushed himself off the wall and started walking.

»… touché.« You followed him. »Where now?«

»You’ve got your watch, right?« Without answering your question he turned into an dark alley.

»Sure …« Standing with him in the darkness felt strange. But he grabbed you by the wrist, leaving you no time to think about it further.

All you managed was a brief glimpse of the portal, before you found yourself back in another city, in another dimension, just seconds later. »Ugh.« With your free hand, you braced yourself against the next wall, feeling dizzy. »I’ll never get used to this.«

He was still holding on to your other wrist. »Maybe you should practice more. It’ll fade after a few times.« His hand was warm. »Everything alright so far?«

Slowly, you moved away from him. »I’m good. Thanks …« You looked around to avoid looking in his direction and realised that he brought you to Nueva York. His home.

On your last visit you barely had any time to take a look at the city. The level of sophistication was a little … overwhelming. The architecture in particular, how the cars traveled upwards to the sky. Plenty of films had tried to depict the future with their own visions, but reality was … better. More beautiful. Cleaner. Captivating.

»Well, shall we?« His voice snapped you out of it. He stood there, hands in his pockets. His gaze was insrutable. But he looked at you.

»Right. Let’s go. Where … where are we going actually?« You asked again.

»You said you’re hungry. I know a place.«

He led the way and you followed him, still looking around eagerly. Miguel stopped at a parking space, right in front of one of the cars. It looked a lot like the most modern cars in your own world, only... yeah, even more advanced. You stared at it, as he kindly opened the door for you.

»Hop in.«

Kind of nice of him. Couteous.

»Wow.« You were amazed by how unrestricted you could stretch your legs. Even Miguel’s impressive stature was effortlessly accomodated here. Your eyes took in the modern interior, the many displays and buttons. Pressing some of them seemed so tempting, just to see what would happen, but you kept your fingers to yourself, looking at him instead.

»This car is as big as my bedroom. A size smaller would have done just fine.« You said jokingly.

He smirked. »It’s actually the smaller model. I wanted something inconspicious.« Now you snorted with laughter. That was too absurd to not be funny. »Why are we driving anyway? We could just swing our way to our destination.«

He started the car without turning any keys or pressig any buttons. He simply sat down and the vehicle seemed to identify him as the owner. »Thats right, but … I thought it would be a good opportunity to inaugurate it.«

»Wait, you never took it for a ride before?«

He looked at you sideways. »Well … actually not.«

That made you laugh even harder, and you were glad, because it took the awkwardness out of the situation, since he couldn’t help but to chuckle as well.

The car moved so smoothly, you didn’t hear a sound of the engine. There was silence for a moment. You watched colorful city lights passing by, but also took the chance to sneakily observe him.

He looked different today and it took you a hot minute to realise it was because of his clothes. Not his spider suit he used to wear when he visited you, trying to recruit you, sometimes hidden under a hoodie to avoid any attention. No, today he was wearing a white long sleeve shirt and slim-fit chinos. Casual clothing, but obvisouly high quality. He didn’t use cologne, but you sensed the odor of fresh laundry. Soap. Suddenly you understood why people were staring at him. He looked …

»Just say it.« His expression suggested that you hadn’t been so sneaky after all.

»Huh? What should I say?«

»Come on. You know what I’m talking about.«

Your face turned red, you felt it. »I have no idea.«

A sigh, while he was pinching his nose. »I look stupid in these pants, don’t I?«

»Uhm...« You shrugged your shoulders, a little surprised. Your cheeks were still burning. »No, you don’t look stupid. Rather unusual I guess. I mean, most of the time you’re in your combat suit, right?«

He looked down at himself. »Yes. To be honest, it feels strange not wearing it. Haven’t seen myself in casual clothing for a long time.«

»I think I know what you mean. But theoretically you could get into it at the push of a button, right?«

»If necessary, yes.«

Somehow you hoped it wouldn't be necessary today, but you kept it to yourself. Time to change the subject. »I'm really curious about that restaurant.«

»Still hungry?«

»I'm always hungry, actually.«

»Oh, you're one of those.« He smiled mischievously. »Just like me.«

He was a pretty good driver, easily weaving his way through the heavy traffic of Nueva York. It maybe took five minutes to reach your destination, but not without travelling on a road, that led vertically upwards. You couldn’t deny that you were enjoying yourself.

When you got out and looked around, your breath actually caught in your throat. What were you expecting, a burger joint? Well.

You could tell it was a high-end restaurant even from outside.

Suddenly you were nervous again.

»I’m afraid,« You began, scratching the back of your neck »I’m not properly dressed.«

»Dont worry, you look fine.«

He led you to the restaurant, his hand hovering at your back without touching you. Still, his gesture signaled that you belonged together. Your eyes were glued to the huge tree in the foyer, which stretched across the two floors of the restaurant.

Miguel didn’t even have to say his name at reception. The host took one look at him and immediately assigned you a table, apparently the last one that wasn’t occupied. You took a seat, still a little nervous.

»So ... how long is the waiting list for a table here?«

He also sat down. »Good question. I never make reservations.«

His answer made you smile. You weren’t surprised that Miguel O’Hara didn’t need a reservation. With his prestige and wealth he enjoyed the privilege to be admitted everywhere at any time. Good for him though. After all, he sacrificed a lot, not just for this city, but for ... the whole universe, as strange as that sounded.

While waiting for the menus, you looked around, taking in the interior of the restaurant. There was something exotic about the combination of clean design and natural elements, perfectly complemented by the warm lighting. It was a cozy place, yet ultra-modern and exquisite. Fascinating.

The menus arrived. You opened them and raised your brows. »Hm. Smart move to invite me to a restaurant where the menu is entirely in Spanish.«

He didn’t even look up from his own menu, but there was a hint of a smile on his face, ever so slightly. »Oh right, my apologies. Hadn’t thought of that. Would you like me to recommend something?«

You were convinced that he hadn't 'not thought of that'. It was all part of the game you played and he knew exactly what he was doing. Yet somehow you enjoyed it, so you went along. »Okay, be so kind.« Your voice was more playful than you intented. »Recommend something.«

Miguel replied without thinking twice. »They offer a lot of fancy dishes here, but personally I’d go for number 16.«

»Number 16...« You took another look at the menu. At least you could understand the numbers, although there was another word you recognized. »Oh, ist that... paella?«

»Exactly. A classic.«

An interesting suggestion. »I’ve never had paella before.«

Now he lifted his head and looked at you. »You’re in for a treat then. It may be a simple dish, but very exquisite.«

»Sounds good to me. I’m not in the mood for experiments anyway.« This whole situation was an experiment in itself and you didn’t want to make things even more difficult for you by ordering an exotic dish just to impress him.

The waiter arrived again, taking back the menus. Miguel placed the order in Spanish and you couldn’t help but listening to his voice. The warm timbre and the way the R rolled over his tongue.

What a sexy language.

You shook your head briefly to dispel the thought. He was really good at this game, you had to give him that.

»I ordered an 'Albariño' to match.«

You had to guess what it was. »...wine?«

He nodded, not taking his eyes off you. »Don’t you drink?«

»I do, but only on rare occasions.«

»I see. I bet you’ll like it. Albariño is light and fresh, so it does not mask the delicate flavour of the paella. Its high acidity also balances the oily texture of the dish.«

You stared at him, almost taken by surprise, before you started to laugh, a hand covering your mouth. »I’m totally sorry.« Far be it from you to be rude or even mock him, but you didn't expect him to give a lecture like that. He never had spoken so many words in one sentence before. »But you almost sound like an encyclopaedia. Did you memorise that to impress me?«

He tilted his head, blinking, before his eyes narrowed. »I just know about stuff I guess.« His voice had a defensive undertone, as if he felt like he’d been called out.

»I see.« You winked at him, clearly teasing him a little. »I’m still impressed though.«

Oops. Mentally, you slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand. How could you spill the beans like that? But it seemed to have an effect at least, because Miguel’s tensed shoulders relaxed again.

To your relief drinks arrived at that moment. Wine was poured with gusto and two extra glasses of warter were provided as well. You toasted in silence before you both took a sip. As he put the glass down, he continued to look at you intently.

»Verdict?«

The glass was still close to your lips as you let the taste sink in before nodding affirmatively. »A pretty good wine, as far as I can tell.«

He seemed satisfied. »Make sure to try it again with the paella.«

»I intend to. After all, I have to check what's behind your recommendation.«

Leaning back, you surveyed your surroundings once more. Too bad there was no place like this in your world. The way how design and ambience worked together, it was almost magical. And you still couldn't get over that huge, beautiful tree. Its lights reflected in Miguel's eyes. Only now did you notice that he was watching you as he continued to enjoy the wine. »Is there something on your mind?«

»Indeed. It’s amazing to still see human waiters and waitresses in future restaurants. I mean, even in my world, you can order food at McDonald's with the touch of a button by now.«

He laughed. »McDonalds...« The look on his face revealed that he was not a fan of this type of food. »You’re not wrong though. Most restaurants don’t have human servers anymore, only in selected establishments, usually for the upper class. Being served still feels ... romantic for many people.«

Again, he looked you in the eyes, his gaze almost playful now. »Sometimes it’s beneficial. If you know what I mean.«

Just as you wanted to answer, another waitress approached your table. Apparently out of the blue, according to Miguels puzzled face, as she served him a small plate with two empanadas on it. It wasn’t even the same waiter from before, but a lady with elegantly styled hair and high, clacking heels. That sort of shoes you could probably never walk in, superpowers or not.

»A little treat from the house.« Her voice was pure velvet.

Miguel just blinked. »Thanks?«

The lady disappeared again, her hips swinging. You giggled to yourself. »Everyone seems to know you are into empanadas.«

»Hm.« He just raised his shoulders, but couldn’t resist fishing an empanada of the plate. »Rumors are spreading. And they seem to hope for a good tip.« He pushed the plate towards you, wordlessly offering you the other one.

In your opinion, the lady was hoping for something entirely different. But Miguel didn’t even glanced at her, even though she was quite attractive. Heat crawled under your skin at that realisation.

You picked up the other empanada, too tempted - and hungry - to ignore it. As you took a bite you couldn’t suppress a silent sigh. The crust was incredibly buttery and flaky, the tender filling melting in your mouth. »Wow. Well, this definately beats McDonalds.«

He nodded affitmatively. »Yeah. Same with the ones from my cafeteria.«

»I never had those, so I don’t know.« You leaned back, wine glass on your lips again.

»As I said, you should visit more often.« He winked at you. Little wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes as he smiled.

The heat kept crawling into your cheeks. You shifted your position on the chair, before taking another sip of wine. »Maybe I’ll do.«

At that moment the food arrived. They really didn’t want to keep anyone waiting here and you appreciated that.

The waiter proudly presented a huge pan, which contained their meal. Miguel nodded approvingly.

»Parece delicioso.«

With a bow of his head the waiter started to place the dish on two plates. A delicious aroma wafted over to you as you watched the procedere with fascination. When you were alone again, you looked at Miguel, kind of confused.

»Is this form of serving normal?«

He on the other hand didn’t seem the least bit surprised about it all. »Yes. An old tradition. You compliment the dish to show appreciation.«

Your upper lip curled. He really didn’t leave abything to chance today and that felt good, because it made you feel special. That he did that maybe to make a real impression on you. »Thats ... wholesome, actually.«

He poured you more wine before making an inviting gesture towards your plate. »Dig in. Before it get’s cold.«

You started to eat, hesistantly at fist but your shyness vanished in an instant. »Oh my gosh ...!« Your eyes closed and you paused for a moment to savour the taste. With each bite, the rich and savoury flavour of the rice filled your mouth, the vegetables provided a crisp contrast and together they created an almost sinfully decadent symphony. It was so good, you couldn't help but sigh as you licked your thumb clean without even realising it.

He really hadn’t promised too much and you could almost feel his smug grin, but when you raised your head you were proven wrong. He was sitting there, fork in hand, not moving at all. There was no smile on his face.

He was staring at you.

At your lips.

»Oh, I-,« you cleared your throat. How rude of you. »I couldn’t keep it together for a moment, I’m sor-«

He interrupted you by raising his hand and pointing to your glass. »Don’t apologize.« His voice was ten shades darker all of a sudden. »Taste the wine with it.« Oh yes, he seemed eager for you to try it together.

So you did and ... »Wow, I didn’t think it could get any better.«

Now he started to finally eat as well, after seemilngly waiting for your reaction. You wondered if you had reacted the way he intented. He seemed pleased, as far as you could tell. »I’m glad you like it. Told you you’d be thrilled.«

»I don't think I've ever been as satisfied as I am right now.«

»Oh, is that so?« It was only when he asked that you realised how indecent your words could be interpreted.

»Gosh.« You desperately tried to hide your red face behind your hand.

He just chuckled, a hum from the depths of his chest. He managed to tease you without saying a word, his eyes shimmering with intelligence and amusement. You couldn't even be angry with him as you took another sip of wine.

It was pretty warm in here.

For a moment, you devoted your full attention to the food in front of you, which got better with every bite. Every now and then you closed your eyes in pleasure, but Miguel would not hear another sigh like the one before. You denied him that victory.

He was silent too, but not in an awkward way. For the first time you didn’t feel the urge to bridge unpleasant silence with stupid phrases. It was pretty relaxed. How refreshing.

If only your spider sense didn't keep activating. Eventually, you could no longer ignore it. Lifting your head, you quickly recognised the cause, as some faces quickly turned away from you.

You lowered your fork, searching for Miguel’s gaze. »Have you noticed?« you asked, lowering your voice.

»What do you mean?« Unconsciously, he leaned forward so he could hear you properly. You caught his scent again.

»People are watching us. Is that normal? You are quite the famous person here, aren’t you?«

He smiled with composure, as if none of this was news to him and it probably wasn’t. You could hardly imagine his actions going unnoticed in this city.

His eyes wandered briefly around the vast space of the restaurant before they came back to rest on you. »They do. But to me it seems they’re mostly looking at you.«

You tilted your head in confusion. »Why would they do that?« »Well«, this time it was his turn to lower his voice and for you to lean closer. His smile turned gentle. »they’re wondering who you are. And why you’re here. With me.«

You blinked, in fact wondering about that as well. After all, he had brought you here to talk about work. But not a single word has been said about it until now, rather the contrary. You had mainly talked about personal things that had nothing to do with business and completely ignored the fact that he was actually trying to convince you to become a member of the Spider Society. Your mouth went dry.

What did that mean?

Did it mean anything at all?

»Uh, is that so unusual?« You tried not to let your racing thoughts show.

His brow raised, as if it was obvious to him. »People love gossip. And they wonder, ...« His voice dropped even lower. »... if we are on a date. Wouldn’t that be interesting?«

With a jerk you went back into a straight position, your eyes wide open. When you reached for your glass of wine, your hands were sweaty. »Absurd thought, isn’t it.«

»No.« was his simple reply and never before had a single word such an effect on you.

You quickly took a deep sip of wine and washed the whole glass of water down with it. Had they turned up the heating or why were you so unbelievably warm?

»Hey. Don’t let it stress you out.«

Wow, great. You couldn't hide how nervous you suddenly were. But he wasn't teasing you. He had leaned back too, his hand still resting on the centre of the table where it had almost touched yours.

You poured yourself more wine, far more than was polite, but you needed that now.

Did you want this to be a date?

As if someone had heard your silent cries for help, the waiter arrived just at the right moment.

»I hope you are satisfied with everything. May I offer something else? Dessert maybe?«

The waiter looked at you, but it was Miguel who answered. »San Sebastians Cheesecake.«

»An excellent choice. I’d recommend you to enjoy it at our outdoor area. The view is outstanding.«

You said nothing, but Miguel nodded. »Thank you, we will do. Please send the bill as well.«

Fresh air seemed to be a very good idea actually. But first you had to pay for your meal. Als the waiter disappeared you dug your wallet out of your bag. Just as you were about to pull out some money, Miguel grabbed your wrist again.

»Please.« You looked at his hands, then into his eyes. There was no trace of arrogance in them. His gaze was ... gentle. As warm as his touch. »Let me handle this. It was an invitation, after all.«

Was it? It was you who had suggested it in the first place. Still, you nodded. He seemed eager and you didn’t want to spoil the mood any further.

He let go of you, still smiling. »What if you go ahead upstairs? I’ll be right up.«

You returned his smile. »Alright.«

You would have preferred to just swing your way up by using your webs, but people were still watching you and you didn’t want to make things worse. So you took the staircase while Miguel took care of the bill.

The restaurant was one of the highest points in the city and the view was breathtaking indeed. Nueva York was beautiful, in a scientific way. But in the darkness of the night, it’s lights shone in the brightest colors. They danced through the sky, a sea of gentle waves. Nobody was up here, you were alone. You put the empty wine glass down on one of the tables.

A warm summer breeze fluffed up your hair als you leaned against the balustrate, taking a deep breath.

Was this what a business dinner looked like?

Probably not.

You no longer knew whether this was really just a game.

»Hey.«

You turned around, hearing his voice. He was standing there, holding a plate with an elaborately arranged piece of cheesecake. »You good?«

»Yes.« You turned around again, letting your eyes wander over the panorama of the city. You heard him put the plate on the table where you had put your glass before.

Nobody was up here.

Just you, him and the nervous tingling in your stomach.

He didn’t move, maybe sensing you being on edge for whatever reason. You didn't want to let him win.

Even though he had already won.

»It’s ... really nice here.« At least your voice didn’t tremble. Good. »Do you come here often?«

You couldn’t avoid his gaze forever, so you turned back to him.

He shook his head, before he approached you and leaned against the balustrate next to you. The moment was silent while he also took in the view. »No. I’m usually too busy.«

»Yeah. Saving the multiverse and what not, right?« You watched him carefully. Although he still had circles under his eyes, he seemed pretty relaxed today. No grinding jaws, no furrow between his brows. As if he did not have this heavy responsibility weighing on his shoulders.

»It’s exhausting, isn’t it?« You asked.

He was silent again, seemingly brooding. »Yeah. But I know I have to do it. I’ve given up too much to stop now.« You shivered while hearing his words. He turned his head back to you and again you could see the tiny wrinkles around his eyes as he smiled. »The break is welcome, however.«

Just now you noticed that Lyla hadn’t checked with him once this evening. Usually she appeared above his shoulder every now and then, to keep him updated and informed about new anomalies.

Was this what a business dinner looked like?

You had so many questions, but only one made its way over your lips. »But I thought thats why we’re here. To talk about work.«

He chuckled again. »The gawkers down there already talked enough about us. The fact that I’ve been seen with somebody will spread like wildfire.«

Apparently he really never went out, espacially not with a woman. Your heart was pounding in your throat, but you kept your cool. »Aren’t you worried that this will ... I don’t know, damage your reputation or something?«

Now the furrow did appear between his brows. »Why should I be afraid of anything like that?«

»I don’t know.«

»Listen.« Now he turned his full body towards you. »You sound surprised, even though you shouldn’t. You seem to underrestimate your abilities. And yourself.«

»How would you know that?«

He pinched his nose, but he didn’t seem annoyed. Rather ... unsure of himself. »Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I’ve been watching you.«

»Huh?« »I know! Listen, please. I have insight to all universes and I’ve been following your activities ever since I found out about Spider-Woman’s existence on your world. Your skills and your commitment to protecting others are very impressive.«

You couldn’t stop a deep blush creeping into your cheeks again. Of all the things you have expected, this wasn’t one of them. After all you were just doing your job. »I, uhm ... thank you. But I just do what needs to be done.«

»Perhaps. But your ability to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies and at the same time give hope to those you protect is remarkable.«

»I-« you didn’t have the words. You’d never thought of it like that before. »That’s the reason you want me to be part of the Spider Society, isn’t it?«

»I’m not just interested in your powers, I’m interested in you as a person.« His eyes widened as he finished his sentence, apparently this thought was not meant for your ears. He rubbed the bridge of his nose again, looking kind of defeated. »Okay, I said it. And I can’t take it back.«

You just stared at him. »Why...? I don’t understand.«

What a surprising turn of events.

He inhaled and exhaled quickly. »Because ... Because it wasn't just during the rescue missions that I was watching you.«

The realisation struck you like a truck. Suddenly everything made sense. How he always seemed to know when you took your lunch break. Or why he texed as soon as you picked up your smartphone. He had actually been watching you, not just in your imagination.

Cold sweat broke out of your forehead as soon as you realized the whole meaning behind that knowledge. What else he might have seen. Your little secrets, that no one else knew about.

Days you spent alone in your flat, crying. Days passing without you speaking to anyone. No one who came visiting you. No phone calls. Just messages. Messages from him.

And the smile in your face when he got in touch.

The way your hands wandered over your sensitive spots when you thought of him in the darkness of your bedroom.

The idea of clinging to his strong arms, while he thrusted into you relentlessly.

Did he hear you moan his name?

Oh god.

You tried to pull yourself together, but the thought of him watching you inevitably made your core clenching around nothing.

But he continued to speak, seemingly oblivious to your racing thoughts. »I know I sound like a total creep, but I never violated your privacy. Once you stepped into your appartment, I left you alone.« There was vindication in his voice.

He didn’t want you to think badly of him.

You didn’t. Most of all you were curious now. »But why did you watch me all the time?«

He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. »Because I wanted to know why you wouldn’t join my cause. It was the first time someone declined and ... I’m not used to it. Neither to beg.«

»But you did beg me.« Your eyes caught each other and you could see his tiredness in them. The same tiredness you saw every time you looked in the mirror. »Why?«

»Because I enjoy our little game. And I know you do as well.«

You felt like missing a step. Your stomach jumped. You turned away so he couldn’t see the expression on your face. »I don’t know what to say.«

A few seconds passed. Silence reigned, only interrupted by the hustle and bustle of the city below you. Finally, you felt him approach you, placing one hand on your shoulder. Oh, how warm it was. »You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that I see you. The real you. Because I know what it’s like to be alone.«

Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t answer. Tears were dwelling up your eyes. He was right. You were lonely. Turning a blind eye to this did not change anything.

What would happen if you decided to join the Spider Society?

Sure, you’d meet new people. You would probably make friends.

But your little game would inevitably end and so would his messages and spontaneous visits.

»I know what you’re thinking.« He was close enough for his chest to touch your back, sending shivers down your spine. »You think if you join the Spider Society, I'll lose interest in you.«

You exhaled, breath trembling. Were you an open book, easy for him to read? Or was there much more empathy lurking beneath his stoic façade than he was allowing anyone to see?

»I won’t. Unless you want me to stop.« He whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, as if he was fighting himself. Now both hands were on your shoulders, moving slowly up and down your arms. »I’m just too drawn to you.«

With a jerk, you turned around and raised your head to look at him. You wanted to cry, but also not. Your chest was burning from the inside. »Maybe the gawkers are right.«

He tilted his head, a little taken aback at the sudden change of your bahavior. »Right about what?«

You made a leap to sit on the balustrate, now almost at eye level with him and a hundred yards of nothingness behind and underneath you. »Maybe it was a date after all.«

His eyes softened, as he came even closer, supporting himself with both arms left and right of you. His forehead made contact with yours and his warm breath met your lips. You could feel his heart beating wildly. Or was it your own?

His hand found its way to your cheek and you nuzzled into it, finally giving in to your desire to be touched by him. His lips brushed against yours.

When you opened your eyes again, your gaze was playful. A silent challenge spoke out of them. »I’m not going to let you win that easily.«

He just looked at you, his eyes clouded with desire, but also a little confused.

»Is that so?« He asked, in the same teasing way as before.

Without warning you pushed him away with the help of your spider powers. Not much force, just enough to break the contact between you two.

»Catch me.«

»Hey!« His eyes widened and he called out your name as you let yourself fall into the dancing city lights. You eyes lit with teasing mirth.

Without thinking twice, he followed in your wake.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Treacherous (17)

Relationship: Druig x Reader Warnings: angst, tiny bit of fluff Summary: Soulmate!AU - Soulmate tattoos are incredibly rare but you’ve never felt really proud to have one. Everyone else around you gushed over it while you found the whole thing ominous and a little inconvenient. Truthfully, you were never really convinced you’d find your other half… That is until a random camping trip leads you to a quaint village run by a dark and brooding man who just so happens to be your soulmate. Stuck in the forest with nothing else to lose, you agree to join his world, his little village, and see if there’s actually love behind the markings. A/N: wow! this chapter is a bit slow/kind of like a filler but when it comes to stories we must close every door we open lmao so i hope you still enjoy it. i promise it will start to pick back up again! also, can you believe I've written over 47k words for this fic?? my last full-fledge fic was just over 40k words so this one....this one has really spiraled out of control! thank you for taking this journey and actually caring -- especially this far into it!

‘Treacherous’ Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You stared at the composed post, and it stared right back at you. It was like your diary had puked on your screen. Everything was out at its full capacity. No summarizing for the authorities and no sugar-coating for the family. 

Were you really going to post this? It held everything and spanned longer than any entry you had ever seen on the forums. 

The "post" button taunted you relentlessly. 

You re-read your opening line for the umpteenth time: "Long time viewer, first time posting…finally." It was short and sweet but buckled the reader in for the ride. That was good, it could be catching. But, then again, what were you trying to do with this post? Were you truly just trying to share your story, or did you want to warn others? Could someone just please listen?

You stared at it for an ungodly amount of time. You wrote it to post it…right? So why were you just sitting there, staring at it like it was a bear about to bite you?

You read and re-read and re-re-read the first few lines over and over again. You skimmed your words, your heart hitching slightly when your eyes caught just a glance of your soulmate’s name. At the last second, you opted to not add too many identifying features, such as names or locations. You would no longer allow your story to be vague, but you also weren’t sure what legal lines you were walking on. 

When you were finished with the edits, you still weren’t sure how you were feeling. It was gone. It was good to go. And you were just procrastinating now. This was meant to be liberating — not tighten the locks. 

Your hand had a mind of its own as it reached for your laptop’s trackpad. Two clicks were all it took. The page refreshed and your now-published post stared back at you. Everything felt normal. Nothing had changed after creating the thread. You had vomited your story onto the web and that was that.  

When nothing immediately happened — no comments, no direct messages — you took a sigh of relief. Maybe no one would ever see it, you thought. It was just therapeutic and you could already feel yourself feel a little lighter. 

Recounting everything had certainly been a heavy task. Every thought and every memory tightens the bond. You hadn’t thought you would ever crave your soulmate, but that was the exact position you had found yourself in when you were deep into writing. You wanted nothing more than to turn back the hands of time. You would’ve had a better approach to it all. You would’ve been more compassionate, more understanding — more open to it all. You had been noticed and loved in a way you had never felt before. And now you could only hope and pray you would get it back. You wished you knew what he was out there doing. You could sense he was safe and alive. That was as good as it got for now.

Sighing, you closed the web browser and slammed your laptop shut.

One Week Later

One short, yet exhausting passed in such a slow but demanding way. Your post on the soulmate forums gained a little but reasonable amount of attention. It wasn’t exactly the top post or putting the soulmate horror stories to shame (even if some of the comments said they were greatly concerned about your story) but it had a following and was regularly featured on the front page. A decent amount of comments gathered and you answered them here and there, mostly trying to assure people you weren’t crazy or lying — a thing that was actually impossible as the forums did have its own simple but effective vetting process. 

Behind those who were either terrified or alarmed by your tale were the genuinely interested ones. The people who wanted to know more and could learn to celebrate the little victories in your soulmate journey. Those kinds of comments were comforting to some degree. Hopelessness and confusion were easy to get lost in, but the little cheers from strangers warmed you. Needless to say, though, it was a mixed bag. 

Besides being consumed in the little online space you had created, a lot of your attention went toward finding where you belong in the real world. You had, in some cheesy way, left the forest a different person. It was beyond silly to any outsider, you understood that, but on the surface, the only consistency was your unemployment status. So much had been lost and answered and finding your footing again was proving to be rough. 

Your parents tip-toed around you a lot and their gazes always avoided the tattoo on your wrist. For their sake, you began wearing a lot more sweaters, but you couldn’t ignore it. Out of sight, out of mind no longer worked on you. 

When you weren’t trying to dodge your parents’ concerned looks, you were spending a lot of time focusing on finding a job. It was the first thing you could think of to turn to as it would’ve been your priority anyway had your the camping trip gone as planned. The only major difference is your boyfriend would’ve been here to help you. He had always been more confident, more sure of everything. You just second-guessed your qualifications and stumbled through interviews. Little seemed to be working and you had to tell yourself to give it time. 

Time. The dangerous, fleeting thing. Time didn’t like when you ignored your soulmate tattoo. Time wasn’t too friendly. Time never lets you forget anything. But it seemed all you had was time. Time to waste away, to job hunt, to just lay in bed and contemplate whatever. 

And contemplating was exactly what you were doing with your time when your mother knocked on your bedroom door. It shocked you, but you faced her. She seemed a bit uneasy when you asked her if everything was okay. 

"Your boy—or, well, I guess ex-boyfriend, now, right?" Your mother sighed and didn’t wait for you to answer her either way. "He’s here. He asked to see you."

"Oh." It was the first word you could think off—and it wasn’t even really a word. It was just a sound. A defeated sound. "Yeah, okay. I’ll see him."

Your mother frowned. "Are you sure?"

You searched for anything that told you no, but you came up empty. This moment felt almost inevitable. A part of you knew that day in the police station would not be the last time you faced him. At least it felt a lot less scary than you had initially anticipated. It was almost like your body, your soul, had given up on him. Like you were just about to let go of the rope.

"I’m sure," you replied. Your mother didn’t say more; just turned around and waltzed back down the hall. You followed obediently. 

You found your ex-boyfriend — you were finally going to start calling him that for your own sanity’s sake — was sitting very comfortably at the dining room table. At the head of the table, sipping on a glass of water. Your mother had very much welcomed him in and you didn’t understand why. You shot her a confused look but she just shrugged and departed toward the apartment balcony where you saw your father sitting. They were going to leave you alone with him. Your heart was suddenly in your throat. 

Your ex barely blinked at you as you took a seat across from him. 

"You’re back," he muttered.

"I’ve been back," you replied. "We had a nice reunion at the police station, remember?"

"Don’t be like that," he snapped. "Given the circumstances, I think I was allowed to be a little upset."

"You weren’t just upset, you were enraged."

Your ex barked out a laugh, making you jump. "Oh, forgive me for being upset about the fact my girlfriend ran away from me to fling herself in the arms of another man."

Your jaw was just about on the floor. "Another man? He isn’t just another man, Eric, he’s my soulmate." You viciously pulled up the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Your soulmate tattoo practically glowed. "Remember this? The little mark you were so eager to dismiss? The thing you swore we could overcome? It doesn’t work like that, and it never would have. It’s more than just a mark. It’s more than just lines on my skin and you know it." You shook your head and sighed. "I never left you on purpose. I—I wouldn’t do that. I never in a million years expected to find my soulmate in the middle of nowhere. It just happened, that’s all. It just happened."

Your ex reeled back at that. You saw a hint of defeat in his eyes, but it was fleeting. 

"You don’t see it from my standpoint," he insisted. "In my eyes, I saw my girlfriend, the woman I loved, run away in a goddamn forest no less, only to find her somehow being taken care of by someone else. And not just taken care of, but doing well."

"But I’m telling you that’s not the whole story—,"

"Yeah, yeah, soulmate, blah, blah, blah" he mumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Believe it or not, I am trying to wrap my head around that whole thing. I’ve been doing some research."

"Research?" You didn’t know why, but that admission made you feel some kind of uneasy. But he confirmed you had heard him right with one nod. 

"I found your post."

The absence of genuine worries in your heart suddenly switched at his dangerous but enticing words. "Excuse me?" How did he manage to do that? How deep had his research gone? 

"Don’t act so surprised. Your post has made a bit of buzz on the internet forums." He tapped his fingers on the table. "And it’s not like I didn’t recognize it immediately. You can leave out names but the story stays the same, doesn’t it?"

You weren’t sure why you felt so invaded by his comment. It wasn’t like you didn’t know your post had garnered some attention and you weren’t exactly writing in a diary. It was public and accessible. Anyone could view it, even though those without soulmates didn’t exactly spend time browsing forums. Still, to think your story could stay in its little bubble was foolish. 

You were the one to look away now. "Why are you researching soulmates?"

"Because I need to understand it, I need to understand you," he spat. "Did you leave me because I wasn’t good enough? Or was it really because of that damn mark on your wrist? I just don’t get it yet. I’m a man of faith, but not this kind of faith."

"I’m trying to explain…"

"Well, excuse me if I’m not eager to listen to you, the woman who left me in the dust."

You pulled at the sleeves of your sweatshirt, frustrated. "Why did you come here, Eric?"

He shifted in his seat. "I needed to see you," he replied. "I — We — needed closure."

"I agree." You paused and traced the lines running up and down your dining room table. "You really loved me, even with this mark?" Your brain flickered back to when Druig had made that off-handed observation that night under the stars. You had dismissed it, there was no rhyme or reason for someone to be in love with you, but there was an unmistakable hurt behind his anger.

"Of course I did," he breathed. "And I thought, at the time, you could eventually love me, too."

"I… Well, maybe I—,"

"No." He shook his head adamantly. "No, you didn’t. At least, not like you love him."

You jerked your head up at your ex’s words. "But—"

"It wasn’t a question. You certainly do," he replied. "Whether you meant to or not, your forum post was full of love, even in the most confusing, harrowing moments. That’s not nothing."

You don’t know how he saw it, but he wasn’t too out there in his analysis compared to the comments you had received. His optimistic look was jarring but interesting. 

"I’m sorry I put you through all of this." 

It was the least you could say, but it didn’t even begin to resemble a real apology. You had always been unfair, leading on someone and yourself when fate had been staring you dead in the eyes. The future had certainly seemed impossible, but the impossible happens every day. 

You got too comfortable and you paid the price. 

Your ex shrugged. "Yeah, well, I hope you’re actually happy with him. Where is he anyway? Do I get to come face-to-face with him again?"

You tapped your foot nervously. "He’s away right now."

Your ex let out a humorless laugh. "You turn everyone’s world upside down for some guy who ends up leaving you. Are you sure he’s your soulmate or have I been bamboozled?"

Your heart started pounding in your chest. Someone who had read your post still wasn’t getting it. How could anyone reduce anything to something so simple when everything had proven to be so much bigger?

You sighed, shaking your head. "He… He didn’t leave me. He had something to do, that’s all."

"When’s he coming back?"

You stood from your seat, letting your chair nearly tip over behind you. Your hands curled into fists on the table. You were beyond over the charades, the teasing, whatever this shit was.

"Are you done yet?" You spat. "Have you gotten the closure you wanted?"

Your ex rose from his chair calmly, cool and collected, like he hadn’t started a firestorm. Like he wasn’t the first one upset. To him, this was all on you apparently. You weren’t sure anymore how you had given this man the time of day. You’d had an entire relationship that now sat crumbled in some abyss and this was what lay in its ruins? Bitterness. Annoyance. Misunderstandings. He had never gotten you and never well and you had entertained it for long enough.

Despite the anger rumbling in you, all your ex replied with was: "Good luck, honey." He was gone nearly as fast as he appeared. 

The front door of the apartment slammed and almost as if on cue, your parents re-entered from the balcony. They stood in the living room, watching, observing.

"Were you guys eavesdropping that whole time?" You asked, breaking the uneasy silence before it truly began.

Your mother cleared her throat. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Well, I’m fine," you muttered. "Everything's fine." You marched back to your bedroom before anyone could make any more protests, toss more questions your way, or — god forbid — throw accusations. 

You re-found your comfort in your bedroom. Door shut, world turned away. The only thing you could sense anymore was the bond. It hadn’t gone dormant, not since that night you swore you felt Druig. It came and went, but had yet to vanish. 

It pounded in your chest, in your gut, in your brain. As you worried about being apart, it did, too, and you hated it. All you needed was for whatever he and others needed to do, they did it fast, and for all of humanity to not vanish. Too much was unfinished here. It was nearly comical how you had craved normalcy and now found it punishing. 

Exhausted for the day, you crawled into bed, despite dusk just barely hitting the city. You turned toward the wall, a familiar, comforting position. That feeling in you began getting stronger, which wasn’t too odd when you relaxed your brain, but something about this was erratic. If you weren’t in your bedroom, you would’ve sworn Druig was standing beside you. Or maybe it was in the back of your brain. 

And that was when something muttered in your brain, ever so faintly through the chaotic noise. It was soft but recognizable. You heard it and didn’t hear it, it didn’t come to you as words simply would. But there was no room for mistaking it.

"I miss you."

[neyswxrld]

touching souls

Echo x reader (gn)

summary: Taking a walk in the winter wonderland with Echo!

warnings: just some kisses

word count: ~740

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the twenty-first fic for my advent calendar! i think this might be the one i like the most, lol. and, if you wanna see a tbb era echo as a winter prince in a winter wonderland, you should look at this edit by @isthereanechoinhere96!

You breathe in the fresh air of the snowy white afternoon. White snowflakes make their way toward the earth, almost like feathers. Peaceful and quiet.

It is cold, and your breath comes out in small, white clouds. You are clothed in your warmest clothes, hiding your ears beneath a beanie and your face in a huge scarf.

Nevertheless, the weather is refreshing and stimulating, forming a contrast to your warm and cozy home.

You take another deep breath, looking at the pine woods. Green and black patches shine through the white coat, and your steps crunch as you slowly walk through the snow. In the distance, you can hear some burbling of a restless stream, trying to fight the freezing temperatures.

You come to a halt and almost relieved, you exhale again, following your breath with your eyes. All the stress fades away and a weight you didn't know of, seems to be lifted off your shoulders.

Suddenly, you feel how strong arms wrap around your body from behind. A warm body presses against your back and a head settles on your shoulders.

Happily, you sigh and lean back into Echo's arms.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, breaking the silence of the nature, but not in a disturbing way.

"Yeah," you nod, closing your gloved hands above his. "Thanks for bringing me out here, Echo. I didn't notice how much I needed that," you almost whisper, turning your head a little. He is already looking at you. His brown eyes look into yours and for a short moment, you feel like he's touching your soul with his.

There builds a sweet tension between you, and while you're looking at each other, you feel like you're frozen in the moment, but find yourself not wanting to break it.

Nonetheless, you pull your scarf down and give him a small thankful kiss on his lips. Echo smiles and kisses you back lovingly. He always knows what you need the most, and a small trip to the woods on a snowy day is more than you could have ever imagined.

"You're very welcome. I'd do anything to make you feel happy and relaxed," he tells you after you separate again, a look of pure love in his eyes. Your heart stutters for a second.

"Everything?" you ask, teasing.

"Everything," he hums, rearranging his body, so he is standing next to you. He drapes an arm across your shoulders and together, you start walking again. Wanting more of his closeness, you throw your arm around his waist and pull him close, so there isn't any space left between you.

"Even bringing me that delicious cherry pie from Mrs. Brown?" you want to know. Your neighbor and Echo absolutely disliked each other. It started when he first came to your apartment. You don't even know the reasons for their heated relationship because every time you ask Echo, he just shrugs it off, not wanting to talk about it.

"When it makes you happy," he nods. "She likes you. Wouldn't be that bad if I said it's for you. Besides, you would have to give me a piece of cake, too."

You start to giggle quietly and nod before continuing with your ridiculous questions about what he'd do for you.

Together, you straggle across the path, swaying from left to right, smiling and laughing, pulling small promises from each other's lips.

"Hm... So you would also go and buy me a dog?" you ask, smiling, asking another silly question of what he'll do for you, to see how far he would take it, hypothetically. Echo chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"We first would have to have a talk about that a little bit more, and then I would take you with me to buy a dog," he murmurs, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't be disappointed if that won't happen in the next year or two," he adds.

"What? You would wait that long before getting a dog with me?" you ask, looking at him curiously.

"Well, it's a huge responsibility," he explains to you, looking back. You think about it a little bit before shrugging.

"I guess you're right. Besides, you didn't say no, so that counts. And I will remember that for the next two years," you agree, grinning at him mischievously.

Echo shakes his head, smiling.

He didn't lie. He'd do anything to make you happy.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[where-dreamers-go]

“Scattered Emotions” Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: A Part two for “Emotions Read” soulmate au where we jump back in to Reader and Dick’s new relationship and see what changes and reactions are happening. Their relationship is platonic—they’re still becoming friends! 1960s Robin time!

Warnings: Reader has social anxiety. Minor angst. Use of (Y/N).

Word Count: 5,126 words)

~~~

A sunny morning at the stately Wayne Manor and all was calm. In the main sitting room, Bruce Wayne continued reading the weekend newspaper as his youthful ward and yourself pushed through homework.

Sitting beside your soulmate on a Saturday morning was something you wanted to get used to. Truly. Homework being included wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t terrible. It would be completed. Plus you had good company.

Two weeks since the baseball game. Two lives learning to intertwine. Two very studious people.

Even though you went to separate schools, subjects were no different. Algebra was still algebra. Languages still had many verbs to memorize. Although you both had teachers who had differing teaching techniques. That came in handy.

I’ve been here twice before now and I’ll count Mister Wayne was a teacher, you thought. He’s like an encyclopedia. In the best way. And he’s turning Dick into one.

Jotting down another answer for your science homework gave a little boost to your confidence. There was no rush to finish. No guardian eager to do more than sit around.

You felt comfortable in the Wayne Manor. They welcomed you with bright smiles and warm greetings. Pressure to start random conversations didn’t exist. You didn’t have to put on a fake smile or hide your amusement. It was wonderful.

Beside you, Dick knocked your knee with his as he hid a smile in a textbook.

Goof.

Your happy mood was not a mystery to him. Never. He could do something about it now that you knew one another. Many possibilities.

Discreetly, you tilted your wrist back and poked his arm with the eraser of your pencil. Only once.

You both brought out a playful side when in the other’s presence. Refreshing and incredibly fun.

Moments and feelings you wanted played over and over in your mind. Mainly fun ones. It did make you wonder about his average days. You wanted to know if Dick always did his school work in that room. Was he always in such a good mood? A day to see him laughing at your stories even if it was all true and not too exciting would lighten your day’s stresses, surely. What would you two do two months in the future?

Time had not sped by since officially meeting your soulmate. There was time to process the news. But there wasn’t enough hours in a day to speak to one another. It was nice still. Lovely, even. You wouldn’t change any of it. You were both having fun and happy to know the other. It didn’t matter what activity you were doing—usually school related so far.

You hoped it would last. Naturally and genuinely, you wanted the connection to be real.

A firm blink of your eyes and you refocused.

Everything’s fine. You thought, considering yourself silly for a moment. We’re the only soulmates I know. It’s fine. Truly fine. And he’s safe and doing fairly well. Really well. Mister student council. Impressive and busy. How’s he find time to sleep?

It was a wonder Mister Wayne and your guardian could schedule study sessions on the weekend. It would not be every weekend nor a random weekday. Everyone was busy.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t crossed your fingers.

Over to your right, Dick progressed to the next algebra problem. Dark eyebrows pinched together as he surveyed his options.

He might fight off ‘x’ before he finds it, you thought, amused. Or—wait. No. He still has to—it’s after—

“Holy homework,” Dick murmured.

Leaning closer, you read over the problem from the textbook. Your cheek almost touching his shoulder.

“Hmmm.”

“Yeah. ‘Hmmm” is right.” He sighed.

“Well, hold on a second. Wait.”

Starting with the first step, you checked over his work. You backtracked near the end. Double-checking where he had stopped.

“Oh.” You pointed to his paper. “You were suppose to subtract two from both sides.”

“Gosh, (Y/N).” Dick sat back against the couch cushion. “I should have remembered that.”

“Hey,” you said softly. “We’re still learning. That’s one of the purposes of school.”

“They’re right, Dick.” Mister Wayne added in from behind the newspaper. “Learning takes time and commitment. Forming a well-rounded education is a key stepping stone into becoming a contributing member to society.”

Wow.

“So true.” Dick nodded.

“That should be on a poster in school,” you announced, completely serious.

Your soulmate smiled as Mister Wayne hid his expression behind paper.

Does he always speak like this? Gosh. Was he an inspirational speaker for fun? And Dick is hearing this at home. Explains a bit.

Your guardian never gave life advice like that. Then again, they cringed any time you mentioned schoolwork. You guessed they didn’t have the best memories in association.

Before getting back to the work at hand, you glanced over to Dick once more. He took notice.

“I got ‘x’ equals four.” He turned the paper for you to see.

“Nicely done.”

His lips upturned happily. So proud and charming.

“I can make you a copy of my notes, if you’d like? I put examples.”

“Really? Oh…you don’t have to.”

“I want to. If it’d help.” You bent the corners of your paper.

“That’d be great. Thank you.”

Swirls of leaping warmth grabbed your attention. His gratefulness expressed in more than words.

It gave a little tug to your heart.

“Of course.” You smiled and pulled your textbook a closer on your lap. Eyes only glancing. You fiddled with your pencil. Anything to get back to the task at hand lest thoughts of his smile claimed your concentration.

It’s just notes. You thought and attempted reading over a question. Again.

Borrowing school notes. Giving notes to someone? It was an offer you had never given your school friends. Not once. Then again, they only ever complained or never discussed homework at all. You couldn’t blame them. Schoolwork wasn’t a fun topic. It was more tiring than anything. But Dick…was alright with it, fine even.

Dick could talk about school with light in his eyes. I just…it just is.

Not to admit that you saw a pattern, but it did appear that you spent more time with education than free time in other activities. Did you have much choice? Kind of. No wonder your guardian was just glad you were out of your room and socializing. Although, they were very extroverted themselves. So you saw why they pushed for you to do the same.

Or they’re bored. But it does go against the ‘do well in school’ household rule. Or not? You thought. Both can exits. Like mammals that can live in water and breathe air. Birds that can fly and sim. Of course penguins are among the exception.

You blinked twice.

Why am I thinking about penguins?

In one movement, you sunk back into the couch.

How did I even get there? The next question is about biomes.

Dick shifted beside you.

All it took was one look and you remembered.

The consistently bright and sweet smile of his.

What made his so different? Surely being soulmates had no effect. It was an expression.

No wonder his apology that day I came over worked so well.

Lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed Alfred walk in.

“It’s the phone, sir.” Alfred announced.

Dick leapt to his feet, excitement rapidly radiating from him. It all but startled you. His textbook discarded to the coffee table.

Alfred proceeded to whisper something to Mister Wayne.

Hesitation hit Dick’s posture as he went to turn in your direction. He wouldn’t meet your curious gaze.

What could get him so excited about a call?

Mister Wayne stood up. Professionalism coating his demeanor.

“It’s an old college chum of mine. He’s in town for a short time. He’s invited me to look over his photography portfolio of his last trip to Europe.” He looked to his ward. “Dick, this could be an excellent opportunity for you to experience other forms of art.”

“Oh.” He glanced to Alfred.

“Please forgive us for the sudden change of plan,” Mister Wayne apologized.

“That’s perfectly alright, Mister Wayne.” You smiled Kindly and started collecting your belongings. “I have some things to take care of at home.”

Stepping forward, Alfred said, “I would gladly drive you home.”

“Thank you, Al—Oh! Before I forget.” You took out a book from your bag and offered it to Dick. “The one you talked about the other week.”

“Gosh, (Y/N). You remembered?”

“Of course. You can borrow it if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed the book. “Is it alright if I call you later?”

“Sure.”

“Great!” Dick hurried out of the room followed by Mister Wayne.

You stood there grinning to yourself as you felt your soulmate’s expanding excitement, but there was an unexpected uneasiness lurking. Partially odd for him. You reasoned it was the sudden end of your visit and decided it best not to dwell on it. He was still happy.

“He really loves learning new things, doesn’t he, Alfred?”

“Indeed.”

✧ ✧ ✧

A tall cave ceiling and expansive area of incredible technology lay ready. In the center: the Batmobile.

Robin slid down his designated Batpole. Landing softly, he exhaled. He felt a bit torn. The further he moved to his destination, the more he noticed.

Jumping into the Batmobile gave him a thrill and a sense of duty. A routine. Ready to help and solve a case. To bring justice to Gotham City.

Not a word was spoken as the engine roared. It was time to be the dynamic duo.

Giving an excuse in order to head over to check out brewing trouble wasn’t new. However, lying to you gave a nasty twist in his stomach worse than lying to his aunt. It was so much harder. He knew he should have better prepared for it. What they did was for your safety as well. He would have to be grateful that he didn’t feel distaste, anger, or annoyance from you after he left. That gave him room for relief.

They really meant it was alright.

Speeding down winding roads, the Batmobile gave Robin time to reflect and think.

Study sessions were becoming regular, but how many would be interrupted?

He wanted your blooming relationship to be smooth. No complications to distance you two. He had barely known you a month, he didn’t want to chance spoiling it. He liked you. Everything he knew thus far intrigued him. From your study habits to your taste in music, there was much to know.

Dick was thrilled to have found his person who he’d share his inner most thoughts with. All considering they sensed each other’s feelings, he figured they could share more if they were each comfortable. He didn’t want to hide everything of himself.

It’s different with them around, he thought. Even Aunt Harriet was thrilled to see me with a friend over, but she’s wanting to know more about them. I can’t blame her. So do I.

Taking a glance to his left, Robin saw Batman’s focused expression. More serious than earlier. No newspaper in sight.

Bruce was happy to schedule study dates, er, hours. Robin leaned into his seat more. (Y/N) seems to like it.

Education was important. Bruce wasn’t about to let either one of the young soulmates forget that nor let their habits drop. He basically welcomed you to the household.

Even Alfred was delighted to see you in Dick’s life and in the manor. You brought a unique light of your own; as he told Dick.

The youth felt a giddiness just thinking about it all. What happened was real. He was lucky to have noticed your emotions as he first saw you. Not everyone could interpret in the moment. Perhaps it was due to the experience he gained as Robin.

His life held growing responsibilities and learning opportunities. It was the secret ones that made him worry about you.

Being Robin meant protecting.

He did not want to burden you with knowing. Having you worry or at risk for knowing he was Robin was not something he was willing to live out.

Even if it meant pushing down an emotion, he couldn’t let you know his hero identity.

✧ ✧ ✧

Midday light struck you as you exited a local bookstore. Shielding your eyes with one hand, you held a bag of books. Treats you were willing to share. Dick had recommended one of them some time ago.

Adjusting to the light took a minute. Thankfully the sidewalk wasn’t busy.

I didn’t mean to spend more than an hour, you thought. Time flies when you’re absorbed in finding good reads. And when I’m not paying attention.

You dodged a woman’s purse and picked a direction.

Home for lunch. I told Alfred I would.

“Oh.” You stopped in your tracks.

There, parked by the sidewalk was the Batmobile. No hero in sight. A variety of citizens stood by the vehicle, curious. Amazed.

Guess I’ll hear about it on the news later.

You took a step to the side in hopes of navigating around the people. Their distraction left them blocking a majority of the sidewalk.

Your mind was apparently your distraction.

A hand touched your shoulder. A quick prevention from bumping into one another. A green glove.

“Sorry—.” Words were cut short as the young man looked at you.

The absolute surprise in his blue eyes matched the sharpness coming from your soulmate.

He froze.

No breath came from you and no words for that matter.

The Boy Wonder was staring at you and you at him. An unlikely meeting.

“Robin.” Batman’s voice tore through the thick confounding moment.

Cape billowing behind him, Robin bounded off towards the Batmobile.

You blinked as the black vehicle raced away.

“What the heck just happened?”

No, no. No, no, no. Not real.

Your mind went full throttle with connecting the dots.

Same hair style. Eyes. His voice. Just a word. Holy—

You weren’t sure you were ready for that ride of information.

A secret! You thought and hurried in the direction of home. No one knows Batman and Robin’s identities. No one is suppose to! It protected them. Their loved ones. The mystery brought fear to criminal minds. They. Are. Heroes. Fighting crime! They’ve been against the Penguin!

Walking faster, your emotions overpowered those you sensed from your soulmate. Heart pounding in your ears the whole way.

Please let me be imagining things. Please.

✧ ✧ ✧

Speeding back to the Batcave to analyze a clue, Batman had his hands full.

“Deep, slow breaths, Robin.”

The youth’s grip on the windshield and seat was concerning.

“Focus on a ten count. Breath.”

The thumping of Robin’s heart and the whoosh of wind battered his eardrums.

…seven, Robin counted and stared at the road ahead. He could hardly hear his own thoughts.

He closed his eyes and all he saw was you. Wide eyes seeing straight through his mask.

Taking in a sharp breath, he restarted his slow breathing. Concentration for the case felt miles away. Robin placed a hand on his abdomen.

It’s like vines are coiling my insides—with thorns. I can breathe, but…

“I’m worried, Batman.” He let his gaze roam all of the buttons and switches.

“I know, old chum. I know.”

Robin held on through the ride. On the inside, under the mask, Dick Grayson’s fears were highlighted by his soulmate’s emotions. Shock, anxiety, and panic all mixing together with barely a filter into him.

Breathe, (Y/N), please.

✧ ✧ ✧

Hours later, a late afternoon snack was well deserved. Being home the whole afternoon gave you ample time to pace and stare at the wall to collect your thoughts. And eat. All after hiding in your room for a couple hours with the music blasting louder than your thoughts.

I’m ready to sleep, you thought. I must’ve sent Dick a storm of emotions. Way to go.

Sipping on some water, you glanced up to your guardian who sat on the adjacent armchair.

“Glad to be home?” You questioned, voice neutral.

“My feet are happy I’m sitting down.”

“I’m sure.”

“Did you have fun today?”

“Uh, yeah.” You thought back to sitting beside Dick and quietly getting each other’s attention. “I finished all of my work too.”

“That’s good.”

And I’m still trying to stop thinking about the high probability of Dick being the Boy Wonder. What am I suppose to do with that? He saw my face. He knows I wasn’t calm.

“You really like visiting the Wayne Manor, don’t you? You’re more eager to go.”

“Yes. They’re really nice.”

“I’ve never seen you take your homework anywhere else.” They laughed, amazed. “Or compliment everything. Can’t say the same about the trip to visit my cousin and you’ve known them for a least ten years.”

“I don’t have much to talk about or do there,” you reasoned.

“True, but you haven’t been to that one friend’s house in months. The tall one. Not the one with ripped jeans. They love having you over.”

You sighed quietly, suppressing a groan.

They keep inviting me over, you thought with a grimace.

Information needing to be told. No time like the present.

“Well. I don’t like going.” You stated flatly. “Every time I went over, their dad interrogated me. He doesn’t think I’m that good. He keeps trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. And he keeps questioning if I ate.” You explained as shortly as possible. “I can’t just sit or have fun. It’s ridiculous.”

Your guardian was silent. Their eyebrows set in a deep frown.

“You don’t ever have to go there again,” they said firmly. They looked at you seriously. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I don’t know…I guess, that’s just how it was and I had to deal with it.”

“Absolutely not. Thinking you’re a bad kid,” they scoffed. “If I see him, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

“Yeah. And I’d rather not go, especially now because….uh.” You shut your mouth. Thoughts switching to how that friend in particular was judgmental of others and you did not want them to know about your new friend—your soulmate. “Well, nothing I do there is normal for them.”

And I’d rather them not make outrageous and stupid claims about Dick Grayson. They don’t know him.

You leaned your head on your hand. Completely ready for the day to be over.

In the other seat, your guardian muttered. Spilling out frustration for the other adults from the forefront of their mind.

“It’s no wonder you like visiting the Grayson boy. He’s all smiles when he sees you. Very polite.”

Tiredly, you answered shortly, “Yeah, he is.”

In a final huff, your guardian reached for a snack on the coffee table, however stilled their hand at the sound of the telephone ringing. They sprung up from their seat and headed to answer the call.

You stifled a laugh.

Their demeanor changed, however underneath their light voice answering the phone lay someone ready to start a heated argument.

At least I never have to go to that house again.

“It’s for you.”

What? Why?

The confusion must had shown on your face because they sent you a smirk.

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest.

“Who?”

They only gestured for you to get over there.

Please be Dick Grayson. Please be Dick Grayson. Pl—wait. What would he need to say? No.

Placing the phone on your ear, you focused on one word.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)? Hi. It’s Dick.”

“Hi.”

“I wanted to apologize again for this morning. I’m sorry we had to end our….time short.”

Standing there at home, you were receiving waves of nerves from him like an incoming tide.

“It’s fine. Really.” You assured him. “Did you like looking at the pictures?”

Because I definitely saw you in a mask.

“I did,” he answered quickly. “How was your day?”

“My day was productive.”

“Productive?”

“I might have spent about an hour or so in a bookstore.”

“Oh.”

A tickle of amusement came from him. Light and airy.

“And I bought a few books and I think you might like one.” You twirled the cord of the phone around your finger. “So I got that too.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, I, uh… You know what? How about this? If you won’t read it, I definitely will.”

You heard his light laugh from on the other end.

“Sounds like a good read, uh?”

“I’ll let you judge it for yourself.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

You were more than glad the conversation turned into something more light-hearted. Books were an easy topic. You definitely could not bring yourself to ask him about being Robin. Not even hinting at it. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Especially with your guardian less than fifteen paces away.

Your grip on the phone relaxed a fraction.

Entertaining him with a story came naturally. For that, you were grateful and relieved. Another tale from school you forgot to mention that morning. One about a cobweb in the back corner of the science classroom where a spider proudly named Jorge lived. Updating Dick on how a student tried feeding the spider, but the teacher stopped them as they were climbing the counter.

Sure, school days could be boring, but you managed to witness a few wild occurrences. It gave Dick something to think about, you were certain. If not, he got a laugh out of the story.

All nerves were forgotten enough to not be felt.

Was it guaranteed that neither of you would ever mention Robin? No.

Could you act regularly while knowing? You hoped so. There were many other things that tended to gain your attention. A few being: new books, possibility of more phone calls with Dick, fresh dessert, and literally knowing your soulmate.

You would always consider yourself lucky in that perspective.

“Hey, Dick?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for being you.”

✧ ✧ ✧

A cool, cloudless evening settled above the Wayne Manor. Inside, the young ward Dick Grayson sat deep in thought.

Dick hadn’t seen his soulmate in practically a month and found himself missing you more than he anticipated. Calls weren’t quite enough in the two weeks, however he never complained.

Yet his calls did not go unnoticed.

When he and Bruce were out of the house, Aunt Harriet had been asking questions. Alfred had informed him again not too long ago. It was a giant reminder that he held another secret.

Golly, Dick thought.

“Bruce.” He said just above a whisper. Quietly, he watched as the man set down an old volume.

“What is it, Dick?”

“I need to tell Aunt Harriet about (Y/N). I want to tell her, especially now that we’re not busy.”

“It’s your call, Dick. If you’re ready.”

“I am.” He stood up. “Aunt Harriet should know.”

“What should I know?” Aunt Harriet walked into the sitting room.

Her abrupt entrance made even Bruce get to his feet.

“Perhaps you would be more comfortable sitting down.” Bruce said calmly and evenly.

“Oh?” She let her nephew lead her over to the couch. “Is everything alright?” She looked between the two.

“It’s good news.” Dick informed her and sat beside her. “Just…big news.” His hands clenched together.

“Alright.”

“I found my soulmate.”

Her eyes widened.

“It’s (Y/N).”

Aunt Harriet gasped loudly, “Dick Grayson, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“Oh!” Opening her arms, she brought him into a hug. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Forgive us, Aunt Harriet,” Bruce explained, “we had to be absolutely sure before telling you.”

“Gracious me.” She softened, emotional. Releasing the boy, she raised a hand to her heart. “I just can’t believe Dick found his soulmate. And at his age!” She hugged him again and squeezed him tight for a moment longer. “And they’re so sweet.”

And a great person. Wonderful! And as nervous as I am about people knowing.

“Aunt Harriet, I need to ask you to please not tell anyone.” Dick held her hands between them. “I’m not ready for more people to know.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Not one.”

Dick allowed himself to fully grin.

“Thank you. It really means a lot to both (Y/N) and I.”

Her smile doubled at that. Consumed by joy. Too soon, her curiosity took over.

“Why haven’t they been around lately? Are they alright?”

“They were studying for a big test,” Dick explained. “They’re fine.”

Disappointment did linger from when you had to turn down an invitation to the manor. Understanding your need to study at home and not with him didn’t take much effort. You couldn’t be together all the time. Dick knew your decision impressed Bruce with your studying.

Aunt Harriet seems to be both disappointed and glad. It’s great. I just want to know how well they did. Dick thought. And see them. It feels like months have gone by. I hope they’re not still troubled after seeing Robin.

A hand patted his own.

He glanced up.

“I am very happy you told me.” Pools of unshed tears shined in his aunt’s eyes. She sighed softly.

One less secret.

Dick sat back against the cushion.

“It’s too bad (Y/N)’s been busy,” said Aunt Harriet.

✧ ✧ ✧

Gotham City illuminated the night.

Comfortable in an armchair, you were smiling to yourself once more from a burst of your soulmate’s joy. You flipped a page in your biology textbook.

Something must be happening, you thought. He’s been in a really good mood for the past couple of hours. Kinda wanna know what it is.

Not too far from where you read, your guardian spoke on the telephone. They had been chatting since some time after dinner.

You were simply glad of your ability to tune them out. Being cooped up in a room with a textbook again wasn’t high on your to-do list. You’d erase it if it was. You had plenty of that in the past two weeks.

Knocking on the front door startled you.

Holy heart palpitations.

Setting the textbook aside, you headed to check it out. Quietly of course. It was an unexpected guest after all.

You peeked through the peephole and saw your well-dressed soulmate.

Dick!

Unlocking the bolt quickly, you swung open the door.

Standing in cleanly pressed clothes was Dick Grayson. No mask or cape to hide himself. Only an unabashed smile.

“Hi?” You could laugh at how happy you were to see him.

“Hi.” He beamed, his expression brighter with each second he looked at you.

Moving aside, you gestured him inside.

He held up a book after you closed the door.

“You’re returning the book you borrowed?”

“Yes.”

“After eight o’ clock at night?” A small laugh weaved into your question. “There wasn’t any rush.”

“I know.”

Taking a moment to review his surroundings, Dick asked, “Where do you keep your books?”

Right! First visit. And he’s alone? Wait. Why’s he alone?

Dick held the book in front of himself patiently. Always so patient with you.

“Over here.”

You walked him passed your guardian who waved and into a small room. Two bookcases, art on the walls, and a desk were the main decorations in the room.

Is he alright? He must be fine. He’s been nothing but happy. You thought as you stood by the desk.

As if on cue, his voice grabbed your attention.

“Do you spend a lot of time in here?” He asked and handed you the book.

“I’ve basically taken claim over the desk on weekdays.” You set the book down.

That incredibly charming and contagious smile of his appeared. Warm and genuine.

Why’s his smile so distracting? It’s kind of unfair. I have questions!

“You came all this way to return a book?”

“Yes and to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

Color me intrigued. Did he set a record at school?

“It’s nothing bad,” he said. “I promise.”

“I trust you. Now, come on. What is it? You’ve been on cloud nine for hours. I’m curious.”

“Oh. Right.” Dick’s smile turned sheepish. “Today I told Aunt Harriet about us being soulmates. I hope that’s alright. She was excited and asking where you’ve been.”

“She was excited?”

“She likes you.” He reassured you. “I asked her not to tell anyone and she promised.”

Relief flooded you like a warm bath.

“Aunt Harriet was talking about you through most of dinner.”

“Oh boy.”

“She likes having you around too.”

“Too?”

“Everyone does.”

Oh-kay. That’s a lot. Good though.

You ducked your head for a moment to collect yourself.

“I guess I’ll have to go over soon.”

Each ounce of Dick’s joy passed through to you immediately.

“I hope so.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Almost too quickly, your thoughts roamed back to your guardian. They loved how you were spending time at the Wayne Manor. Going to be with anyone instead of being by yourself made them proud. There was just something bothering you. The unknown.

“I still haven’t told them,” you announced and gestured towards the door. “I just…the time’s never right.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you…for the hundredth time,” you murmured, “for understanding.”

“We don’t have to rush. We agreed on that. Tell them when you feel ready.”

You nodded.

He’s right. It’s fine. I can take my time telling them and he—goodness—he doesn’t have to tell me anything about running around in a cape. I can barely watch the news. He’s out there.

“(Y/N)?”

Dick gave you a concerned look.

Exhaling, you calmed yourself and stepped into his space. Without a word or sound, you hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture tenfold. Each of you pouring your relief into one another.

It was the first hug you two shared.

Time ticked away; yet neither of you were willing to let go. Not yet.

Every day you were reminded of the other. Emotions were never silent for long. Each morning was a healthy reminder that the other was there, somewhere. A friend and teammate in life no matter how it was navigated.

You didn’t have to be alone. Dick wasn’t a stranger. All could be as you two wished in your little corner of the world.

Neither of you had a word to say as you walked him to the front door. The door was left ajar.

Taking a step forward, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. A soft silky feeling filled your chest, like it didn’t need any more than what it was. It could exist without words. A soothing nature keeping all safe and unhidden.

“Goodnight, Dick.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he said softly. A tender look in his eyes.

Holy butterflies.

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

~~~

Part 3 --> "Emotions Ignite"

~~~

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

DC Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[honorhearted]

@brooklynislandgirl

Loss was nothing new to Ben, and yet the proverbial blade cut far deeper now that it was his brother -- his hero and ever-present confidant. The past few months had been spent in nothing more than a haze, waking up and going to work and returning home again, never quite willing to face just what had happened and to whom.

His weeks were marked by chewed fingernails, nervous pacing, caffeinated work binges, and the constant urge to tell Samuel about this, or call Samuel about that, only to remember the very painful fact that Samuel was unable to share in his day-to-day highs and lows any longer. Samuel was nothing more than an ever-present wraith trapped within his thoughts.

Whenever he'd spent those three nights in the hospital, Ben recalled his eyes hurting from a pot of bright yellow flowers on Samuel's nightstand. The day he'd passed, Ben tossed them right into the trash, unable to bear their false sense of cheer any longer.

Naturally, his friends had grown concerned by his distance. Anna, in particular, had connections to a g.rief c.ounselor, and she'd all but commanded that he go to a s.upport g.roup. He'd agreed, if only to stop the stares and pitying whispers. Ben was nobody's burden.

On this particular night, he found himself surrounded by a group of equally glassy-eyed, distant-stared m.ourners, his eyes settling upon the fake plants along the wall while he tried to ignoring the sobbing woman across from him. Everything in this room felt fake, and not just the foliage; the concerned stares, the garnered sympathy...all of it, and whenever it was finally his turn to speak, Ben whole-heartedly declined.

Afterward, Ben shuffled toward the refreshments table. He wasn't much for bland, store-bought goods, but after the whole hour of hell he'd just endured, it seemed a fitting end to his punishment. That was when he reached for a d.oughnut.

Across the table, a woman happened to reach for the confection at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and jerking back in surprise, Ben forced a husky laugh and held his hand aloft. "Well, this is awkward," he quipped. "Looks like we'll have to fight to the death over this subpar d.essert..."

Death... Perhaps he shouldn't have made that joke.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Maybe I should start over: I'm Ben...though I guess my nametag made that painfully obvious." He thought of extending his hand to shake, but instead, tucked the offending appendage into his pocket. "I'm not really good at this, in case it isn't clear -- ah...s.upport g.roups, not socializing. Though evidently, I'm not so good at that, either." He gestured to the table. "Go ahead: help yourself. Contrary to the past thirty seconds, I can wait my turn."

[silvcrsxng]

GOD SAVE THE PROM QUEEN

Larissa Weems x oc

Chapter II

A/N: Hello there! First of all, I have to say a big THANK U for liking and sharing the first part of the story. I am so happy about that, I can‘t even tell! Today, I‘ll upload chapter two of the story - I wasn‘t quite contented about it, but didn‘t really know why. After a few times of rereading, I finally decided to upload - so have fun while reading! ♡︎

♕

There is this one moment when everything freezes. You leave your body, look at it from the outside. You weaken, feel empty and stagger in nothingness. Only then does your story enter for you. Your emotions, your feelings, your thoughts. You regain control of your body. It remembers things that seem completely alien to you - just gives you, for this one moment, the possibility to see yourself from a different perspective.

So should you fall, should you also see yourself from above ... Do you then ask yourself if you could still hear yourself? If you could hear others? The possible scream? The last words muttered as you fell? The cries of others, their shouts?

Or do you merely wrap yourself in golden silence, accepting your fate and letting the inevitable happen? The impact that inevitably follows every fall. In our younger years, we learned from this. We were taught to get back up after each fall. To go on stronger than before, to try again - and then, with the progress of time, not to fall again. To survive situations in which we had previously failed.

What irony. If you look at your past life, your school days, your childhood, one thing is quite striking. Many of the things that await us in later life are things we encounter unprepared. Who teaches us how to deal with our feelings or thoughts? Who teaches us to think clearly in difficult situations? Who teaches us to deal with the first heartbreak?

No one.

Except ourselves.

"You've taught yourself everything you need. Goal orientation. As soon as pressure is on you, fight it. Don't perish because of it. Walk your path with your head held high, write your own story. Because if you don't, others will do it for you. Without asking yourself what part you want to play in it."

Second fiddle. That was what Elura had mostly played in her story so far. She had fallen - too many times to count. But she had always gotten back up, no matter how hard the impact had been. In the hope of being first choice for once in the future. Since those school days, she had never lost that hope. It had felt, the moment she had finally seen Larissa Weems again, as if all that hope over the past few years had finally been rewarded. Her warm, heartfelt smile - those sparkling blue eyes. She had no difficulty whatsoever in recalling that moment of first seeing her again - she had also made an effort to carefully memorise her beautiful face. To refresh the memory of her, which had been so long ago.

The disbelief that had spread through her stomach at first had quickly turned into joy. Joy, however, which she had not really been able to show. Not because she didn't want to, no. But much more for the reason that she was afraid of losing her again anyway. To see someone else with her, to be able to do nothing but stand in the shadows.

"You are not a teacher at this school. Neither are you one of their students, you are decidedly too old for that," a relatively monotone voice snapped her out of her thoughts, making her frown in confusion. Elura had sat down on a bench a little away from the schoolyard - her nose buried in a book, which she read only half-heartedly, however. Her thoughts had been far away, completely blocking out any external events. Until that interruption. She raised her head, looking at the black-haired girl standing in front of her with a raised eyebrow. "I too wish you a good day." she replied before gently closing the book. "But yes, it's true. I am neither."

The girl didn't make any expression - merely eyed her in a strange way before her gaze fell on the book in her hands. "Then why are you here?" she asked another question, which, however, merely made Elura shake her head gently. "It's none of your business. I don't see why I should be accountable to you, especially since I don't even know you." The girl's behaviour puzzled her. Not least for the reason that she had seemingly just appeared out of nowhere. "Wednesday. Wednesday Addams." No sooner had she spoken her name than Elura's body tensed.

Addams.

Addams, after Gomez Addams. And Gomez was automatically linked to Morticia. Morticia Frump - or Addams, whatever her name was now. "You have already made the acquaintance of my mother." Nothing. No response from Elura, who was busy processing what she had just heard. "With my father, too." "How do you know that?" it finally escaped her lips, which had become eerily dry.

Wednesday seemed heartily unsurprised by the question - unless, of course, she was extremely talented at hiding her actual reactions behind that disinterested, almost creepy façade. "The yearbook. And your reaction to my name." She left. Without having waited for a response.

Elura was left behind, ignorant of how she felt a moment ago. How she should classify her feelings.

And for that one moment, she saw herself - sitting there, on that bench. The same book in her hand as she had all those years ago.

She rose, slowly, and made her way back to the high walls of Nevermore Academy. "You were always fond of that book. I remember always wondering why." She didn't have to lift her head to recognise whose voice it was. Even among thousands, she would have recognised it. It was Larissa, who had approached her with a gentle smile on her lips. "You spent hours reading it ..." the blonde added. "And it was you who always reminded me not to let time completely out of my sight," Elura replied, finally coming to a halt in front of the headmistress and looking up at her.

"Without you, I would have been late to class many times." The tall woman lowered her head, smirking, before shaking her head a little. "If, then you would have merely been a little late." Elura bit her lip lightly, looking at her counterpart wordlessly for a few moments. "I never thanked you for that." Surprised, the blonde raised her head, returning the look with which the young woman regarded her. "It was also no-" with a determined shake of her head she silenced Principal Weems. "Don't say that Because no matter how many times you told me it wasn't necessary, I still wouldn't be able to accept it." Her words were gentle - merely yet firm.

"Without you ... All my time here would have been black and white." Thoughts. She did not speak them, aware that they would not change her situation. A light touch on her cheek made her turn her attention back to the blonde. She looked into her eyes, into that beautiful, deep and reassuring blue. The smile she wore on her red-painted lips was honest, almost tender. Larissa herself radiated perfect warmth and calm. The same charisma as back then. With the difference that her authority had increased. Not in a negative way. She had never been someone who acted selfishly. Rather, she had been the kind of person who always tried to help others - who stood up for others without asking for anything in return.

Silence. It felt like there was nothing and no one else in this world. It was just the two of them. It felt right. Almost like coming home after a long, far too long time .... coming home. She was her home. She had always been, but she had never dared to open up to it.

And ... that's how it was going to stay for now.

"It's about time, isn't it?" Once again, it was Elura who destroyed the moment. Who could not face her feelings in the way she would have liked to. Larissa's expression stiffened for a moment before she blinked and nodded curtly. "Quite."

And there they went again. Separately, both heading in other directions. Another separation, which again felt like a disappointment to the young woman. She wanted to be honest. More than anything else. And the Rave'N was the best way to do that.

[msweebyness]

Mirrorverse Room Tours, Part 1

These are some fun little clips that @imsparky2002 and I came up with! The villains and heroes decide to use a little magic spell to show off their rooms. Here’s what they had to say! As always, credit to Sparky and to @artzychic27! Keep an eye out for part 2, with Mendeliev’s kids!

Here are the links to the dorm room posts, in case you need a refresher:

• Heroes

• Villains

Marilan/Mari DeVil:

Mari DeVil: (Looking at Marilan’s space in disgust) Well, isn’t this…quaint. Honestly, darling, so drab! Do you honestly spend THIS much time fighting? (Pokes one of the sword-training dummies)

Marilan: I happen to like my room quite a bit, it reminds me of my home. And I’m not the only one who uses my training area. I lead a self-defense class here, for any of my friends who wish to attend. And judging by how easily I handed you your ass earlier, you could stand to take one yourself.

Mari DeVil: (Laughs haughtily) Oh, who needs that rubbish, darling? I pay Socqueline and Fei for that! Why learn how to fight when you can hire someone to do it for you?

Marilan: I suppose I should have expected such an answer from you. (Looks around Mari DeVil’s sea of monochrome) You’re certainly committed to your aesthetic. Though for the life of me I can’t understand how you put up with that smell. (Covers her nose) You really could dust out your coats more often!

Mari DeVil: (Huffs) I think it smells lovely!

Adripunzel/Jafardrien:

Adripunzel: Wow, this kinda looks like Austin’s place in Agrabah! (Pats a small snake statue on the head) I like all your snake stuff! I like snakes too! (Pets Sass’ head) Sass here has been my best friend since I was a kid!

Jafardrien: Yesss. There's something about these creatures that I just find so.... enticing. (Gives a fanged smile as his reptilian eyes dilate) Ssso cunning…and you never know when they might ssstrike!

Adripunzel: (Smiles, trying to hide how nervous he is) U-uh-huh, sure!

Jafardrien: (Gazes around Adripunzel’s room) Ugh…so much color. Sssunshine as far as the eye can sssee. (Quirks an eyebrow) Where isss all your furniture?

Adripunzel: (Points upward)

Jafardrien: (Looks up and is dumbfounded) What the devil? H-how do you even get up there to sssleep at night?

Adripunzel: My hair! That’s what these hooks are for! It doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would!

TianAlya/YzAlya:

YzAlya: Hmmm, it’s a little drab, to be quite honest. (Looks around the room with a bored expression) But…it DOES remind me a bit of my mother’s restaurant back home. Do you spend most of your time cooking?

TiAlya: Makin’ food is an art form, sugah, and practice makes perfect! (Holds up a plate of beignets, with YzAlya hesitantly taking one) My mama taught me everything I know!

YzAlya: *Quietly* Wow, this is good! (Clears her throat) Well, in any case, I consider myself more of a sorceress/scientist than a cook! It’s just so convenient to have my lab right in my own room! (Giggles madly as she fiddles with her poisons)

TiAlya: Is that right? (Quirks an eyebrow as she looks at various caged animals off to the side of the miniature lab) Now, given what I know about you, darlin’, I’m guessin’ some’a these pets of yours used to be people?

YzAlya: *Sweating* Maayybee. (Exaggerated smile as she moves in front of the cages)

Fairy GodBro/Honest Nino:

Fairy GodBro: So, do you like, moonlight as a clown or something, dude? What’s with the circus aesthetic? (Brushes some falling dust off his wings) *Muttering* You could stand to tidy up a bit in here, too!

Honest Nino: (Scowls at the clown comment) Well... I think of myself as a business man first, director second, and ringleader third. I'm a man of many talents, after all. (Smiles slyly)

Fairy GodBro: (Unimpressed looks abound) So I’ve heard.

Honest Nino: (Looks at FGB’s floating bed) Say, this little magic trick with your furniture is really somethin’! Think you could replicate it for one my movies? (Gives his counterpart a charming smile)

Fairy GodBro: (Crosses his arms) Maybe if I trusted your “studio” to conduct ethical practices.

Maxdrome/Maxiro:

Maxiro: (Ducks to avoid a drone flying overhead) Dude, even for a comic book stan, this is a little over the top! Jeez, this is like, every supervillain lair, ever! Don’t tell me you have a death ray in here!

Maxdrome: Multiple, actually! Take your pick! (Looks in disgust at the array of tools and incomplete projects scattered around Maxiro’s floor) How do you get anything done in this mess? It’s anarchy!

Maxiro: Hey, I have a system, and it works for me! I like to think of it as ‘organized chaos’. And at least I’m not using my space to make weapons of mass destruction! (Gives his counterpart a pointed look)

Maxdrome: (Shrugs) To each his own! So, what kind of things do you make? (Yelps as he’s suddenly surrounded by a sea of tiny, identical robots)

Maxiro: Well, these little guys for one! I call ‘em nanobots!

Kimules/Kimton:

Kimules: (Looks around) Dude, what’s with all the antlers and animal parts? Did you kill all of these? (Shudders) *Under his breath* I feel like some of these heads are watching me!

Kimton: (Puffs up his chest) Of course I did! I’m the greatest hunter that’s ever lived! No beast alive stands a chance against me! (Looks at Kimules’ workout equipment) Good to see you at least have SOME sense. (Looks smug) So, how much do YOU lift every morning?

Kimules: Ah, just two, three thousand pounds usually. It’s good to pace yourself, you know? What about you?

Kimton: (Internal jealous tantrum) D-Did I mention I’m an AWESOME hunter?!

Kimules: A lot of my friends are really strong too! My room is kinda where we all work out, it’s cool! You know my pearl can deadlift almost two hundred pounds? She’s so awesome! (Cue Lovesick Puppy Face)

Kimton: (Disgusted) You let GIRLS work out with you?!

Kimules: (Triggered Himbo Noise)

Aladdix/Alix Khan:

Alix Khan: (Growling as she tries to shake the sand out of her fur) Grrr, this stupid stuff is getting everywhere! How the hell do you live like this?!

Aladdix: Sorry there, Kit Cat, but the desert is home to me! Born and raised…well, pretty much raised myself, in Agrabah. (Cringes as she steps on a large skeleton in her counterpart’s room) And at least I don’t have an animal bone fetish!

Alix Khan: (Snarls angrily) Well, at least I’m not a kleptomaniac! (Grins smugly) So, how much of this stuff actually belongs to you?

Aladdix: Hey, for your information, I give (almost) everything I take back! (Smirks) Speaking of which, would you be looking for this, by any chance? (Holds up the jungle-themed, antique pocket watch she swiped off Khan)

Alix Khan: What the-?! Why you little-! GIVE THAT BACK! (Proceeds to chase her cackling counterpart around the space, snarling with fury)

Snow Mylene/Mylensula:

Mylensula: (Sneers as she looks at Snow Mylene’s mini-forest) Well, isn’t this just darling? Is that where all your little birdies and squirrel friends live? (Mockingly clasps her hands and bats her eyelashes)

Snow Mylene: W-well, I just can’t bear the thought of my little darlings out there in the cold all alone. (Snuggles a songbird against her cheek) And it isn’t as if you don’t keep your pets with you! (Gestures to the eel tank in Mylensula’s room)

Mylensula: Well, I suppose you’ve got me there! I don’t know what I would do without my precious little poopsies! (Cuddles her eels, before getting a sly look) You know, if you want your little forest friends to always have a safe place to go, I may be able to help you with that!

Snow Mylene: Thanks, but I know better than to make a deal with a sea witch! Just look at Ondine’s dilemma! So respectfully, I’ll pass.

Mylensula: (Snarls) Fair enough.

QuasiIvan/Ivan Oogie:

QuasiIvan: (Looking around at all his counterpart’s torture weapons) Dude...this is messed up. Do you USE these?! Like on PEOPLE?! (Jumps to avoid a wave of bugs skittering across the floor)

Ivan Oogie: (Chuckles darkly) Anythin’ to get those screams goin'. Ain’t nothin’ better than scarin’ someone outta their wits!

QuasiIvan: *Muttering* Damn, you’re twisted…(Eyes the large cooking pot warily)

Ivan Oogie: (Looks around his counterpart’s space) A bellboy, huh? (Chuckles, before noticing the large stone perch on the back wall) What sleeps up there?

QuasiIvan: Gargoyles. They make better company than people sometimes. (Ivan Oogie nods in agreement. People suck.)

Sleeping Nath/Nathaniel of Hearts:

Sleeping Nath: (Pale and shaking as he looks around his counterpart’s space) You have…SO many weapons in here. *Under his breath* Seriously, who needs this many blades, just on hand? Even Mari thinks having more than eight swords is a little excessive….

Nath of Hearts: Ah yes! So many tools needed for executions. *Gives a psychotic giggle as he fingers his dagger* The axe is my favorite! *Starts laughing maniacally*

Sleeping Nath: Oh, dear gods, Help me! (He goes over to his art supplies and begins to sketch to help himself calm down)

Nath of Hearts: (Runs a critical eye over the rose-patterned space his counterpart calls home) Well, if you could be said to have one good quality, it would be your taste in beds! No king or prince worth his salt sleeps on anything smaller than a Queen-Size!

Sleeping Nath: (Blinks) I…actually kind of agree with you there.

Sabrinocchio/Madame Sabrina:

Madame Sabrina: (Looks in disgust at her counterpart’s cheerful and cozy quarters) You really are nuts about the whole cutesy, cuckoo clock aesthetic, aren’t you, puppet? (Jumps when, well, a cuckoo clock goes off behind her)

Sabrinocchio: One, it’s based on my dad’s workshop, he’s a woodcarver. It makes me feel at home! And two, don’t call me a puppet, it’s offensive! I’m alive and have feelings, you know! (Crosses her arms with a huff)

Madame Sabrina: Sure you do, dear! (Scoffs) You say you’re not a child’s toy and yet you have a little puppet stage set-up in here! (Laughs mockingly)

Sabrinocchio: I like to dance, sue me! (Looks over at Madame Sabrina’s room) Well, at least my room doesn’t look like a place you’d go when you’re looking to buy illegal substances! Sorry! (winces)

Madame Sabrina: (Snarls)

Roselle/Queen Rose Candy:

Queen Rose Candy: (Saccharine voice) Well, if this isn’t just the most charming little space you have here! Why, you must have every fairytale ever written! Pity there’s not more pink though! You can never have enough, if you ask me!

Roselle: Um, yes, I suppose! I like pink too! Your room is certainly fit for a queen! The little racetrack is cool, do you use this a lot? (Peering around the candy castle curiously)

Queen Rose Candy: (Giggles madly) All the time, sweetness! I’m the Queen racer of Sugar Rush for a reason, you know!

Roselle: (Notices QRC’s car, and is quiet for a moment, thinking)…Your arcade game is candy-themed, isn’t it? Well…there’s a pig on your racecar. Wasn't there an animal-themed racing game sometime a while back?

Queen Rose Candy: (Aggressive Laughter) I haven’t the foggiest idea WHAT you’re talking about! My, what LOVELY roses you’re growing here! You MUST share your secret for keeping them so healthy! I’m sure my universe’s Nathaniel would LOVE to hear it!

Roselle: (Nervous sweating and laughter)

Julebeast/Juleficent:

Juleficent: (Runs her hand over the dark wood of Julebeast’s grand piano) Well, I must admit, my dear, I wasn’t expecting you to have such good taste! Such lovely gothic architecture in this room. It could use some bats, though. The details are everything.

Julebeast: Uh, I’ll…keep your suggestion in mind. Your space is pretty cool too. Don’t you ever worry about leaving these flames burning, though? (Looking at the green fire warily)

Juleficent: (Waves a hand) Oh, it’s magical, love, no danger at all! I take it you’re something of a musician, to have such a fine instrument? (Taps the piano with her pointer finger)

Julebeast: Ah, y-yeah, I play. It helps me when I…really miss my Luka…(Moves to the piano and begins playing a somber, yet beautiful tune)

Juleficent: (Stands and enjoys the music) You play quite beautifully. (Gets a nod of thanks)

Lady Chloé/Chloéstasia:

Lady Chloé: Well it’s good to see that in at least ONE aspect of your life, you have some taste! (Looks approvingly at Chloéstasia’s expensive and lavish furniture) Honestly though, dear, is it really necessary to have this much natural light? (Shields her eyes from the sun shining in through the massive glass windows)

Chloéstasia: Hmph! It’s the only way to do your make-up in the morning, if you ask me! It used to be a lot cleaner though…I’m still learning with all this housekeeping stuff. It takes up way more time than you’d think!

Lady Chloé: (Scoffs) Perhaps it’s fitting that you bathe in so much sunlight. It blinds you to how soft and pathetic you’ve become! (Laughs haughtily)

Chloéstasia: (Smirks as she peers at the shadowy expanse of luxury furniture her counterpart inhabits) Well, at least all this light helps me see what I’m doing when I get ready in the morning! No offense, hon, but it really looks like you put that makeup on in the dark!

Lady Chloé: (Flushes red and splutters with anger)

Leave your thoughts and ideas in the comments and reblogs! And keep a look out for Sparky posting part 2!