#then the dream changed into something else as my brain slowly booted back up from a migraine back into reality and i woke up

[knaveofmogadore]

You ever wake up from a dream so fucked that you have to sit there for 10 minutes after waking to rewrite the ending so that you can move on with your day or are you normal

[pattercakebakersman]

Chekhov’s Gun

Summary: Lemongrab has a bad dream and like all children turns to his mother for comfort. Word count: 2.6K

Also massive thank you to @mikelokison for writing Lemongrab’s nightmare when I was really stuck on it :D

cws (and also spoilers that will impact your reading): child abuse (Gumbald and Pb), neglect, ableist bullying (intentionally triggering sensory issues) and guns. 

At night time, when she had no-one around her and no citizens to care for, or projects to work on, it began to creep in. Memories of the hot dirt caking her boots as she rummaged through the rubble of the old world, three pink faces smiling down at her, the kingdom growing and growing like a child, how was she supposed to take care of all of them? If only she had someone to help her…

Three pink faces screaming and melting, and her standing over them, holding her crown. 

These images and more swirled around her as she drifted off, when she suddenly realised something. There was someone else in the room with her. Stood in the corner, breathing quietly. 

“Don’t panic.” she told herself, she’d dealt with assassins before. This would be at most a brief inconvenience. She reached slowly for the gun under her pillow. “Who’s there?” 

Lemongrab stepped into the square of moonlight pouring in from her window. “Princess.”

“Lemongrab?” her hand stopped. “What the junk are you doing here?”

“I come bringiiiiing devastating tidings about the political situation in the earldom.” Lemongrab lamented, and sat on the corner of her bed, staring at the wall. 

She groaned internally. Lemongrab was easily her least favourite of her creations. It wasn’t his fault, she supposed, but he was just so difficult to get along with. “Did someone try and assassinate you?” 

“I had a bad dream,” Lemongrab announced. He scratched at his nose sheepishly, “and I peed myself a little.” 

“Oh, Lemongrab!” She sat up. “Did you uh, you know… change the sheets?”

“I did not pee on the bed. And I changed into my other pajamas.” Lemongrab kicked his legs back and forth, making her bed creak. She wished he would just sit still. “Oh what a good boy am I!”

“You’re wearing your uniform.” she pointed out. 

“Tis all I have.”

“Oh.”

Lemongrab had turned to look at her. His blank expression looked dead and emotionless, it reminded her of how he’d been before she animated him. He’d been an unfinished slab of flesh laid out on paper towels, and science wise, he’d been perfect. The sweet and sour formula was perfectly balanced, his proportions were perfect, and the system she’d made for writing on his brain so she wouldn’t have to educate him personally was going to work perfectly. But of course, Lemongrab, who’d just admitted to getting so scared he peed himself, and ran all the way from the earldom to tell her, was far from perfect. She lay back down and stared at the inoffensive ceiling. She didn’t like to look at her mistakes. 

“Lemongrab, why are you here?” She asked politely. 

“I come requesting political aid in a time of crisis.”

“...Okay?” Unexpected. Maybe he wanted more clothes or something. “What do you want, Earl?”

“I want, nay, NEED!” She winced at his shrill voice,“-To sleep in your bed tonight.” 

Lemongrab got up and peeled back part of her cover and started climbing in. “Lemongrab you can’t sleep here!” she said quickly but he had already stubbornly positioned himself on her mattress, gripping the blanket with his yellow claws.

“You are leeegally required to provide assistance to me as aaaa subsidiary of the candy kingdom.” He pointed at her and hissed. “I am well within my rights byyyyy requesting bed asylum. WELL WITHIN MYYYY RIGHTS!” 

“Lemongrab I need to sleep, and I can’t fall asleep with you here.” She pleaded but he didn’t budge. 

Instead Lemongrab made an annoying sound and rolled over, taking most of the blanket (that he was still gripping) with him. 

“Lemongrab please go home.” She was tired and Lemongrab had a way of making her usually dependable patience wear thin in minutes. “Don’t make me call the banana guards to drag you out.”

There was no response. 

“Lemongrab I’m going to count to three-”

“Don’t send me away!” he said suddenly and flipped over. He fiddled with the blanket and made a strange groan in the back of his throat. Had his eyes been that wide and white the whole time? Had she just not noticed? “I’m scared.”

“Because you had a bad dream?” she asked softly. 

Lemongrab didn’t say anything. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and then rolled over to face him, looking into his huge, white eyes that reflected the moonlight. “What happened, exactly?”

He looked away and pulled the blanket (that he’d now completely ripped off her) all the way up to his nose. “I do not want to scare you.” was his muffled reply.  

She wasn’t sure if he was being sweet or stubborn. “You won’t scare me.” 

“I had a dream- a nightmare… Thee candy people locked me up. Locked me up in the dungeon, all alone... They said it waaas a game. Aaaall in good fun.” Lemongrab had once lived in the candy kingdom, but none of the other candy people had liked him. He’d often catch them whispering and falling silent when he looked in their direction. He assumed that meant they were talking about him, but the princess refused to do anything about it when he told her. 

Once the gingerbread gang had learned he hated bright lights, so they’d shone torches in his face to make him scream until he chased them away, and after that no one came near him. They just kept whispering. 

“They would come aand throw things at me. They were laughing. Aaall laughing.” Lemongrab remembered the horrible mocking laughter of his dream. He’d felt so angry and humiliated- he was an Earl! They couldn’t just leave him in the dungeon and treat him like this. “Then...Theeen you came.” 

The princess smiled briefly but stopped when she saw how angry he was. He glared at her accusingly.  

“You didn't let meee out. You were staring at me. Coldly. So cooold! You said it was just a-a joke. Aaall in good fun. But you said I- you said I was tooo stupid to understand.” He sniffled. “Stuupid Lemongrab. You said that I would never understand theee candy way. The right way.” He clenched his teeth and breathed hard through his nose, making his nostrils flare like a bull’s. She knew him well enough to know he did that when he was trying not to cry. “Lemongrab is not stupid.” he spat. 

“Lemongrab of course you’re not stupid! You’re the only one of my creations who’s achieved self awareness,” in a sense, she thought, “and sure you have your… problems, but you’re the only one smart enough to be an earl. So no, you’re not stupid.” she tried to soothe him. It seemed to work for a moment, but then his face darkened again.  

“I wish everyone understood me. No one- No one understands…” he trailed off and wiped his nose on her blanket, blinking hard. 

“I may not understand,” she said with practised empathy, “but I get that it’s hard to be the only one of you.” 

“You dooo?” he asked hopefully. 

“Well, there was a time when I was the only gum person aside from my brother Neddy.” The memories of hot dirt caking her boots as she rummaged through the rubble of the old world returned. As did the three pink faces of her first attempt at family. They smiled at her, then their smiles morphed into jeers, and then fear, and then they melted while she stayed solid. All alone. “That was pretty lonely.” 

“Hm. Gum loneliness and lemon loneliness…” Lemongrab pondered. 

“But that was a long time ago, I have my kingdom now, so I’m not lonely anymore.” she said quickly. 

Lemongrab smiled, the tips of his sharp teeth visible were through the sliver between his yellow lips. He lunged for her arm. “And I have you!” 

She recoiled in a panic and instinctively pushed him away. For one moment she’d seen someone else in his smile. Someone she never wanted to meet again. Lemongrab seemed hurt but she was just angry at him. He’d come into her room without permission and he was acting like… like she was his mother. She didn’t want to be a mother, it wasn’t fair. She never had a mother. She never even got to have an uncle. 

“Earl do you know about bed laws?”

“Bed laws?”

“Yeah. There’s borders around kingdoms but there’s also a border in the middle of the bed-” she drew a line on the mattress between them with her finger, “-your side belongs to the earldom, and my side belongs to the candy kingdom, so you can’t come over here without your passport.” She said in a factual, detached way. Like a surgeon. “Did you bring your passport?”

Lemongrab worriedly patted his pockets under the covers, making her bed creak again. “No…”

“Then you have to stay on your side, so no touching. Sorry it’s the laws.” she flashed him a brief, tactical smile and then rolled over again. “Now try and be quiet so I can go to sleep.” 

He finally stayed silent. She tried to pretend that he just wasn’t there, but the tiny pink hairs on the back of her neck were tingling with anxiety. She imagined him lying there, inches away. His big, cold, dead eyes staring right at her.  

She peeked over her shoulder and sure enough, he was staring at her unblinking. “Lemongrab… you’re supposed to close your eyes to sleep.” she said with exasperation.  

“I can sleep with my eyes open. Also I want to look at you sleeping.”

“Lemongrab-”

He cut her off with a hiss. “I’m within my rights! Stop telling me everything I do is wrong and illegal- it’s NOT illegal!” Lemongrab raised his voice to shrill, pained shriek. “I’m ALLOWED to look at you!”

She was taken aback. Lemongrab was breathing hard and looked enraged. He was so easily angered, she always seemed to forget that. “Yeah but it’s weirding me out. Look, Lemongrab, are you not closing your eyes because you’re scared of having another nightmare?” she softened her voice to try and calm him down. 

“Nngh. None of your business.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you a quick bedtime story, and then you’ll go to sleep with your eyes closed, okay? Acceptable?”

He considered her offer. “Acceptable.”

She rubbed her temples and sighed. She just needed to crank something out, and then it would be over and she could finally go to sleep. “Okay. Once upon a time there was a princess who lived with her uncle and aunt-”

“Was this you?”

“No. Just because it’s a princess doesn’t mean it’s an autobiographical account. You need to read more literary analysis Lemongrab, your interpretation is biased and doesn’t account for the fairytale tradition. Anyway. she lived with her uncle and aunt and cousin, and she was a really smart scientist. She had tons of inventions and things, she was really cool. Her uncle was also a scientist but he wasn’t as smart as her, and all his experiments would go wrong-”

“Like me?” Lemongrab sounded hopeful. 

“Uh. No. He wasn’t making people he was just trying to build a faster toaster and stuff. He couldn’t do anything right.” Lemongrab narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. “He had this magic mirror that he found, and one day he asked it to show him the smartest person in the kingdom, because he hoped it would be him. But it was the princess instead. 

He got so jealous that he plotted to kill her using this poison he made. But because she was a smart scientist, she used a pH measurer on her food to figure out that it was poisoned. It showed up as alkali, so she added table salt, (which is a neutral compound by the way) to neutralize part of it so she could eat it. 

Her evil family were shocked and all like "omg how?" So she gave them a bit of it to try that wasn't the neutralized part, and because they were stupid they ate it. And they all died. The end."

She wasn’t sure where all that had come from, but it seemed to have worked. Lemongrab was quiet, and his eyes had gone from the size of two huge bulging bulbs, to his normal ovals.  

"Do you know what the moral of this story is?" she asked cheerfully. 

Lemongrab closed his eyes and made an nnngh noise as he thought about it "If yoouu do not like your family it's okay to kill them?" he suggested. 

"No. The moral is, always carry a pH measurer. You really need to read the chemistry books I gave you." 

He blinked "You didn't give me any chemistry books." 

"Huh. I guess I forgot to ask Pepbut to send them to you? You can pick them up in the morning. Now go to sleep." 

She lay on her back and closed her eyes. Instead of the three pink faces she briefly saw Lemongrab’s strange, creepy smile flash before her eyes, and then she fell asleep. 

Lemongrab listened to her breathing deepen and sat up, letting the blanket slide off him as he curled up into a ball, resting his head on his knees as he looked down at her. 

He watched her for a while and then whispered: "Psst… princess? Psst…" 

There was no response. She was asleep, and he was awake. He leaned over till his nose was almost crossing into her territory and mouthed the forbidden word.

"Mother?" 

She wasn’t awake, so she couldn’t chastise him. His hands twitched as he considered the situation. There was nothing he hated more than law-breakers and criminals, but he didn’t seem to have a choice. He’d never heard of bed laws anyway, and he had the entire candy kingdom law book memorised. 

He took a deep breath like he was about to dive into deep water, and pushed his face over the imaginary border splitting the bed in half. Nothing happened. Lemongrab reached out and stroked her hair. "My mommy…" he crooned to her sleeping form. 

No sirens had gone off, although he’d crossed the border between them. He was touching her when she didn’t want him to, and he was facing no consequences. She didn’t even realise. The exhilaration was almost as sweet as her hair. 

What else had she lied about? What else had she told him he couldn’t do? 

Lemongrab slipped his hand under her pillow for whatever she’d been about to reach for, and his hand closed around cold, hard candy. He pulled slowly, like he was moving around a loose tooth with his tongue. And then all at once, it came out. He realised he was holding a gun. 

His eyes widened as he turned it over. It was made of hardened toffee, with a candy cane magazine. He licked it and it was sweet, with a metallic after-taste. He was sure that it would hurt if he shot someone with it. 

His eyes fell on his sleeping mother. Lemongrab knew from his maps of the castle, his photographic memory and from how well he knew his mother, that there were no cameras in her room. The watcher, predictably, didn’t like to be watched. No one had even seen him come in. They were completely and utterly alone. 

He pointed it at her. She’d looked down on him his whole life, now he was looking down a nozzle at her. It felt good. It felt even better than stroking her hair. How good would it feel if he pulled the trigger? 

“I could kill you…” He whispered. Despite what she said, that was what the moral of her story had been. 

He pushed the gun back under her pillow and lay down next to her. His heart was hammering but he felt no urge to scream or groan, instead he felt calm. Solid. Good. Acceptable. He thought about the people who’d bullied him, they seemed so small now. They’d never held a gun. He was better than them. He would have no more nightmares. 

It brought him great joy to realise that he was the one they should be frightened of. 

[paulbunyanstatue]

When Tim’s head finally dropped and landed heavily on Bruce’s arm with a small snore passing through his parted lips, the man understood patrol over Gotham’s twilight-shadowed streets was coming to an end for the night. Batman and Robin already stopped two attempted robberies and helped a small child find her parents after accidentally wandering away from a local gas station in the middle of a long overnight trip through the town. Tim was never as talkative as Dick on patrol, or even Jason for that matter, but Bruce noticed when he became particularly quiet just after the Gotham clock rang midnight. Bruce wondered if something related to his schooling was bothering the kid, but Tim just said they were fine when Bruce asked about the classes he was taking. Bruce then asked how Tim’s father was, wondering if the quiet demeanor was due to an argument at home, but Tim said he was fine too.

Bruce understood when Tim’s eyes slipped closed the first time, long past a blink and shown in a mimicking movement of the lenses of his domino mask. His chin slowly inched down toward his own chest and Bruce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He found it hilarious that the kid could sleep anywhere. Bruce once found him stretched across Dick’s old gymnastic bars in the bat cave, mouth hung ajar and feet dangling over the edge. Alfred found Tim sprawled out across a pool table one evening. He and Dick had been playing but when the older stepped away to accept a work phone call, Tim fell asleep there. Bruce's favorite by far was finding Tim standing propped up against the desk at the bank, bo staff extended and acting as a support beam, while Bruce finished apprehending the robbers. Now, Bruce cleared his throat and pretended not to see when Tim’s head snapped up alongside the sudden widening of the gray lens. The second time Tim fell asleep on patrol that night, the child’s temple landed resting against Bruce’s upper arm and he glanced carefully at his gauntlet to see it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. The hour was earlier than he would normally call off patrol, but the idea of keeping Tim out of a bed for much longer felt heavy in his chest.

Bruce purposefully scuffed his boot against the edge of the building on which the pair were perched, climbing to his feet in the process and watching from the corner of his eye as Tim scrambled up on shaky legs. Bruce knew those blue eyes were blown wide underneath the mask with the surprise of suddenly being woken up. He guided Tim to the opposite edge of the building, momentarily considering they grapple to the neighboring roof to further wake him. But he dismissed that as exceptionally dangerous given his Robin had already fallen asleep twice that night.

Tim crouched down next to Batman, purposefully on his haunches in favor of sitting comfortably flat on the ground, and crossed his arms over his knees. Bruce was bored tonight, but he couldn’t deny he preferred it this way on the evenings that he was accompanied by a child. He still felt his skin crawl when they were forced to fight a violent rogue, particularly after Tim was trapped in a silo with Dick acting violently on fear gas. Bruce often thought back to that night and his cheeks flushed with shame. He despised the way he reacted, so caught up in his anger and terror that he made Tim feel small and like a failure. Alfred had given Bruce a sharp, furious look when he found out what happened during Robin’s rescue that evening. He gave Bruce the silent treatment and provided disappointed looks until Bruce relented and apologized to Tim in earnest.

After another hour of silence disturbed only by the tearing of tires along a road and one screeching car alarm sounding (which was followed by a muttered curse by the owner before the noise ceased and left an echoing of this disturbance in the quiet air), Bruce granted them both the opportunity to go home. Catching up on sleep would benefit him too, as it turns out. He knows he’s heard that enough from Alfred.

“Robin,” his gravely voice was only a hint softer than usual, even Tim had a difficult time noticing. “Come.” With a bitten groan, Tim stood up and stretched up toward the polluted sky, bending his back and yawning largely.

Like a cat, Bruce thought. No wonder Selena thought the kid was adorable.

“What’s happening, Batman?” Tim whispered, listening carefully for sirens. “Did you get a call?”

“No,” Bruce responded easily. “We are done for the night. The streets are gentle enough.”

Tim nodded in agreement. They did seem gentle enough.

They approached the edge of the roof and Bruce glanced down at the hard concrete far below their feet, and sudden terror filled his mind. This particular fear consisted of seeing Robin sprawled out on the sidewalk, so far from the roof and twisted on the ground next to a missed or broken grapple, was a near-constant nuisance in the back of his mind. Sometimes in the thick of his anxious dreams, he still heard the sound of Dick’s parents when they fell to their death before him, a sickening thud that echoed throughout the crowd. Today and standing next to one so tired brought that thought forward with a blow to his gut.

“Robin...” he began, a hesitant whisper that brought Tim blinking largely up at him. “I’m going to repel us both down, okay?”

Tim frowned at the notion. He hadn’t repelled with Bruce since his first few training days when he was still growing accustomed to the sensation of falling that flooded his belly after his feet left the roof top, save one instance in that silo when Tim’s grappling hook was broken. But other than that, Bruce had always trusted that Tim was able to do that himself. Tim was suddenly riddled with the fear that he did something wrong, something to anger Bruce. The man called off patrol early in the night and now he was ordering Tim not to use his own grappling hook. Tim warily looked out at the night sky and wondered if Bruce was planning on firing him.

The thick silence stood in companionship to the changes of worry dancing across the face before Bruce, and he tried to soften the lines tracing his own jaw in response. He could clarify his reasoning, and he even knew that he should do that to alleviate the tension and anxiety. He should tell Tim that he saw him falling asleep and this was simply a precaution, nothing more. But instead, he beckoned the boy with a glove and ordered, “Come.”

Tim’s heels begged to remain planted on the concrete roof, urging him to defend his place as Batman’s new Robin. But his sworn obedience pushed him forward anyway, nearer to Bruce. He tried to ignore the arm wrapping around his waist and the feeling of being pulled against Bruce’s chest as his feet lifted from the ground, but an embarrassed flush colored his cheeks anyway. The position was comfortable and he wished for this modified hug more often after having had the privilege of being held by the very person that he could never admit out loud to holding a parental position in his mind. But his stubborn brain reminded him harshly of the reality surrounding him. Bruce wasn’t his father, and Tim believed Bruce saw him as more of a business partner. Batman and Robin; Tim knew that from the very start of the arrangement.

Tim saw Bruce act fatherly toward his first two Robins, even during their time spent as “normal people.” He had witnessed Bruce hugging Dick and draping his arm around Jason’s shoulders at the fancy parties his own parents forced him to. He witnessed Bruce murmur jokes to his children who snickered in response and shoved him back playfully, and Tim watched as they shared food from a single plate and silently mimicked the ridiculous high society that surrounded them. Tim longed for that attention as he turned back to his own parents who hardly spoke to him during these parties. Instead, they waved toward him and bragged about his grades to other parents who also didn’t really care.

Tim wanted those hugs and shoulder drapes as well, as Bruce’s new Robin. But that was different, Dick and Jason were actually Bruce’s sons. And Tim was not his-

Tim’s feet landed on the solid alleyway stone, his heel dipped in a sticking puddle, and didn’t that suit his situation perfectly?

“Come on,” Bruce said again and Tim sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Bruce never wasted his time on patrol ordering Tim to follow. That was a mandatory expectation since his very first day wearing the dark cape and R across his chest. But he did follow, tailing closely behind Bruce until he slid silently into the passenger seat of the sleekly-hidden Batmobile. He buckled his seat belt as Bruce started the engine from his place behind the wheel.

“Batman,” Tim began, forcing his voice louder than the mere whisper he wished to produce. Bruce grunted in question. “Are we patrolling somewhere else tonight?”

“At home in a bed,” Bruce answered smoothly.

“And is something wrong with my grapple?”

“I sure hope not.” The same easy answer.

Tim bit his lower lip and thought, so Bruce doesn't care that he is ridding himself of me so soon after allowing me to join in crime-fighting. Ouch. Tim took another deep breath and silently worked on removing his domino mask, snatching the solution from the glove box and slowly peeling the corners from his face. When at last he was free of the mask, he stared out the window and watched the street lamps pass by with a pale yellow glow, seemingly taunting Tim throughout the long drive back home.

Not home, Tim reminded himself sharply. Even though he stayed there a few times overnight when patrol leaked into dusk and when he suffered an injury that required him a safe bed in Bruce’s sick bay and guest bedroom, it was not his home. Tim had a home and he had a living father, and Bruce wasn’t his dad. He crossed his arms protectively over his chest, sinking lower into his seat and purposefully ignoring the confused look it gained from Bruce. He watched the shadowed alleyways pass by as his temple fell back to lean against the head rest so he could only watch the streets pass them by. Tim did not notice when his eyes slipped closed.

Bruce finally pulled into the cave entrance and threw another glance toward Tim. The kid was still asleep and Bruce had to fight the urge to chuckle because the poor guy must have been exhausted to sleep through the bumping terrain that brought them back. He turned off the ignition and faced Tim once more.

“Tim?” He whispered, pushing back his own cowl. But the kid still didn’t stir. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to shake Tim awake, and he instead slid out of his own seat and glided over to the passenger side where he opened the door. He bent over and moved toward Tim, just about to slide an arm under his knees and the other behind his back when he quickly froze. What am I doing? His thoughts halted. This child already has a father, someone who specifically is not Bruce. He couldn’t overstep the barrier that sternly separated himself as a mentor from that of a parent, especially while Tim was positioned so that he had no say in the matter.

Sure, he had carried both Dick and Jason inside after they fell asleep either during patrol or the car ride after, but they were his children. Tim already knew Bruce adopted the two Robins that preceded him, but that knowledge itself wasn’t permission for Bruce to fill a similar position in his own life, no matter how much Bruce believed he needed and deserved it. Tim staying at Bruce’s manor several nights each week without so much as a phone call from his father was proof enough that Tim wasn’t receiving attention like one deserved.

But simply having an absent father was not an invite for Bruce to become his. Despite this, Bruce couldn’t leave him in the car  to wake up cold and alone, and he definitely couldn’t wake up that face that relaxed so peacefully while dreaming. And so despite his screeching brain, he reached forward and snaked his arms under Tim, one under his knees and the other behind his back, and he lifted him up to rest against his chest. At the touch, Tim unconsciously moved closer, turning his head toward the warmth that held him, but he otherwise did not stir. This brought a smile to Bruce’s lips.

He carefully carried Tim toward the staircase leading up to the main house’s library, stopping only to flick the lights off. As he entered the manor, he was met with Alfred’s near-frown. It was an expression that meant he was awaiting an explanation for something that he already knew he would not agree with. Bruce shrugged carefully in response to the blatant disappointment at disobeying the one rule of 'no Batman and Robin in the main house.'

“He fell asleep in the car. I couldn’t leave him down there.”

“You could have woken him to change out of the suit first,” Alfred responded coolly, though Bruce noticed the man spoke in a hushed whisper to avoid senselessly waking Tim. Bruce gave him a pointed look and guided the man’s gaze down to the sleeping face below them, only chest-high to Bruce and with his cheeks puffed out with the exhales of the unconscious. Neither man could feign supporting the idea of purposefully waking Tim.

Bruce slipped past Alfred with a swear to clean himself up after he put Tim to bed, something that notably did not receive argument. He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to jostle Tim too much during the ascent. Despite the efforts, Tim’s eyes cracked open at the top of the stairs as Bruce carried him toward the bedroom door that Alfred and Bruce knew as Tim’s room. His expression flickered from confusion to realization and frustration all in the span of one second. Tim frowned up at Bruce, face so disgruntled that Bruce was forced to swallow a laugh as he met the fierce gaze.

“I can walk.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he stated with a hint of humor still present.

“Bruce, are you going to fire me?” Tim’s voice was firm, a question of business leaving no room for his personal feelings that could so easily be hurt right now.

Bruce didn’t feel the need to laugh anymore; the urge was replaced efficiently with an ache of stabbing guilt. “What?” He whispered. His feet stopped carrying the pair forward immediately, and he was frozen on the carpet.

“I promise I can do better. I am really sorry.” The plea was in stark contrast to the hardness of his previous tone. Now apprehension and begging pounded heavily from behind his words, born deep in his gut. It was obvious Tim didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he still hoped it would change Bruce’s mind. Tim looked down at the Robin suit he still wore and visibly relaxed a fraction, hoping that because Bruce hadn't already snatched it from him meant it wasn’t too late for Tim.

“Tim, what are you apologizing for?” Bruce asked, voice still hushed but presenting a hint of worry. He did not know what he had missed in the time between driving Tim home and now, standing on the second floor of the mansion and holding the child.

Tim’s eyes met Bruce's for a brief moment before falling and landing at his collar instead, while he threaded the corner of his own cape through shaking fingers. He stayed quiet for longer than Bruce was comfortable with, but the man waited in patient silence anyway while Tim wracked his brain for the thing he supposedly did wrong. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, but I promise I will be. I will try even harder.”

“Tim,” Bruce began again, eyebrows furrowing and tightening his grip on Tim protectively. You have nothing to apologize for. You are already trying so hard and it shows with your excellent work. You are good enough and you have been from the very beginning because you are strong and brilliant and loyal and-

“Please don’t fire me,” Tim whispered before Bruce could spit out any of the overwhelming thoughts that cluttered his worried mind.

“I am not firing you. What is this about?” He asked, instead.

“Patrol ended early tonight, and you didn’t trust me to grapple down from that building...” Tim rambled softly, picking at his fingernail with intense interest.

“I ended patrol and grappled down with you because you fell asleep-“

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Tim snapped gruffly and Bruce couldn’t help the challenge in his fast-lifting eyebrow. Tim appeared sheepish as his cheeks colored, and he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. I promise it will never happen again.”

“You aren’t in trouble for falling asleep, and you aren’t fired. You were tired so we came home a little early,” Bruce stated firmly.

“What?” Tim stiffened, suddenly feeling very small while still clutched firmly in Bruce’s strong arms, who stood like a rock as though Tim’s weight was not a hindrance. “I’m not in trouble?”

“Of course not, sweetheart.” And now it was Bruce’s turn to freeze. He couldn’t believe he allowed that word to slip from his lips while speaking to Tim Drake, the child technically in his care as Batman and Robin, but one that already had a father. Tim was not another orphan in need of love and attention, waiting for Bruce to take him into his home.

“Oh,” Tim whispered, staring with pupils blown and cheeks darkening further. And against all odds, Bruce felt Tim relax in his arms as he returned his head to the man’s chest. With a deep breath of relief, Bruce continued his trek. “But, I really can walk now. You didn’t have to carry me.”

“I’m expecting you to carry me up all of these stairs next time,” Bruce responded easily, earning a small giggle.

“Won’t Alfred be mad about us wearing all of this stuff up here?” Tim murmured, lightly kicking his boot-covered toes and holding a corner of his cape up as clear evidence of their misdemeanor.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I already told Alfred it was your fault.” Bruce tossed Tim onto the bed-Tim’s bed, as it was in Bruce’s and Alfred’s minds. Tim saw the room as the guest bedroom because he didn’t know it was only ever occupied by him. He remained seemingly oblivious to the fact that Alfred had purchased posters of Tim’s favorite movies for the walls and Bruce lined the bookshelves with comics, novels, and figurines all for him. Tim noticed the items, but he assumed they belonged to Dick.

Tim landed on the mattress with a surprised burst of air forced out in the shape of a laugh. Where Dick would complain dramatically while wearing a smirk and Jason would bite back with a playful eye roll, Tim just giggled at Bruce’s antics. Bruce thought they were all three so perfect.

“Do you need to call your father?” Bruce asked, trying to sound passive though watching carefully as Tim toed off his boots and unclipped his cape, tossing them both to the floor in a messy heap. He worked hard to hide the bitterness in his voice regarding Tim’s distant upbringing, but it shone violently when he spoke in private about the matter to Alfred.

“Nah, he’s probably asleep, and he won’t want me to bother him. I’ll text him tomorrow,” Tim’s voice didn’t waver because this negligence was considered normal based on years of experience. Bruce swallowed a frustrated growl that threatened to break through with force and fury, and he turned to the dresser.

“Want clean clothes? We put some of Dick’s old t-shirts and shorts in here for you.” Tim’s chest thumped sore hearing that. Being offered Bruce’s child’s clothing seemed very personal, very loving. But Tim reminded himself that he was not Bruce’s son, though he often wished to be. He wanted from Bruce what he didn’t get from his own father, the things he saw at those fancy parties from afar, painfully apparent with the hugs and forehead kisses. The taste of it he had when he woke up being carried to the guest bedroom instead of left in the dark cave downstairs. Tim longed for that. Bruce didn’t notice his dilemma, and he continued muttering instead, “Most of it is Superman-themed because he is a brat...”

“But you love him,” Tim stated aloud, catching Bruce by surprise. Bruce had noticed that this particular one had a tendency to do that. He surprised Bruce when he admitted he knew he was Batman. He surprised Bruce daily with his impressive detective skills. He surprised Bruce now. The man turned toward him with eyebrows high, but Tim ducked around his look as he hopped off the bed and approached the dresser. The words sounded like a spoken fact but felt almost like a question to Bruce, and so he answered it.

“I do love him.” He confirmed as he watched Tim shuffle through Dick’s clothes before settling on a Mario and Luigi t-shirt and a black pair of shorts.

“And you loved Jason,” another statement-question hybrid as he slipped into the attached bathroom, closing the door and peeling his suit from his body.

“I will always love Jason,” Bruce answered firmly through the door. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

He winced as he said it. Another slip that sounded a bit too parental. Though he couldn’t deny the tug at his chest when he heard the faucet turn on and the sound of bristles against teeth whispered underneath the door.

And of course Tim had a toothbrush in his bathroom at the manor.

“Because they are your sons.” Tim stepped out of the bathroom moments later and walked to the bed, crawling atop and sitting on the warm duvet. “Your mishpachah.”

Bruce slowly approached the bed, tilting his head and drawing his eyebrows with concern. “I love them because I love them. They are my mishpachah and the rest is an added privilege. Is something wrong?”

Tim grinned widely in response and shook his head. “‘Course not, Bruce.” But something was wrong and Tim wasn’t sure how to voice it. “I was just wondering is all.”

The gut feeling deep in Bruce's abdomen poked him and whispered, he’s lying. Bruce hummed in response and gave the kid a scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly. Tim just continued to wear a goofy grin, and Bruce reached out and dropped a hand softly to the top of his head. Tim giggled between his teeth and continued to watch Bruce with an interested look of his own.

“Tim,” Bruce spoke with a light voice, gentle and warm. “You know, you are also my mishpachah.” Tim’s eyes widened comically and his mouth clenched tightly closed. “Even though you don’t live here, you are my family.”

Tim bit at his lip, and he lowered his eyes for a moment. He thought of Dick’s clothes that he wore, his toothbrush drying in the bathroom, this bedroom that he always stayed in when he spent the night at Bruce’s. He thought of Bruce carrying him inside the mansion when he could have simply woken him up. Tim tends to sleep like the dead, or so his father told him, but if he were pulled out of the car by an arm, he would have eventually woken up. Finally, the corner of his mouth lifted in a shy smile, and he whispered, “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled with pride and continued, “You did an excellent job tonight, Timothy.”

“Timothy,” he parroted with a snicker. “So formal.” Bruce rolled his eyes and ruffled Tim’s hair with that hand that still rested on his head. He then stepped away from him while Tim slid under the covers and laid his head on the pillow. Gravity was already pulling his eyelids closed to sleep once more. “Thanks, Bruce. G’night.”

“Goodnight, Tim.” He had to stop himself from leaning in and pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. Because the kid already had a father, no matter how much Bruce wanted to fill that role. “Sleep well, ziskayt.”

Though truth be told, he already considered this child his own.

:) The rest can be found here: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944

[bitchin-beskar]

Royal Affairs - II

Consequences Will Follow

Rating: M 

Warnings: Intense yearning, shirtless sparring, and oral (f. receiving), of course.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Here’s Chapter 2!! I was planning to have this out on Christmas, but I ended up adding a couple extra scenes, so it took a little longer than I planned!! I have chapters 3, 4, and 5 outlined, so hopefully it won’t take too long for the next chapter! I’ve also got three other stories I want to get posted soon though, so it might not be right away! Anyways, I really hope y’all continue to read and enjoy this AU, I’m having so much fun with it!!!

P.S. If y’all wanna send me asks about this AU... I will gladly oblige 🥺😉

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

It’s late by the time you get back to the small housing unit you share with your sister and your buir. You’d spent hours doing mindless chores around the shop, unable to keep still, lest your mind start to wander to the guests you’d entertained earlier. It feels like a fever dream, something you can only half-recall, and when you try, you grow hot and dizzy and altogether exhausted. 

Your family should be asleep, but when the door slides open, your sister and mother are sitting at the table, waiting for you with a glass of spotchka. A’denla looks up sharply as you walk in, worry written into the crease of her brow. Your mother doesn’t carry her worries visibly, but you can see in the way her eyes rove over you, checking for injuries, that she’s been just as worried as A’denla. 

“Where have you been?! Do you know how late it is?!?”

Your sister is out of her seat and in front of you before you can blink, her hands gripping your upper arms as she does so, shaking you slightly. You know she’s just worried about you, but you’re exhausted, and the minute you’d gotten home and stopped moving, your mind began to wander, just like you’d hoped to avoid. 

“Did he get your message? The gossip has been flying, did the King actually come to the shop?”

You blink tiredly, your exhausted brain only able to focus on one thing. 

“His name is Din.”

There’s a beat of silence. A’denla’s hands drop from your arms. Then, your mother’s sharp voice pierces you like a vibroblade. 

“What. Did. You. Just. Say.”

Your head swivels towards her, and you can actually see fear in her eyes. You frown. “He told me... to call him Din... twice.” Your sentence would hold more weight if you didn’t stop to yawn twice in the middle. Stars, how are you so tired?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see A’denla’s mouth drop. You yawn a third time, covering your mouth with your hand. There’s a little niggling in the back of your head telling you that you should be worried about this too, what it means for the King to ask for a peasant shopkeeper to call him by his name, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re less than twenty feet from your bed. 

Your mother is muttering something to herself, and you think you catch something along the lines of “Maker, give me patience” but you can’t be sure. You just want to sleep, for kriffing sake. 

“Go to bed, daughter. You look exhausted.” You weakly nod your head, already liking where this is going. “But, we are going to talk come morning.”

You hear the words your mother says, but they don’t really register as you’re already stumbling towards your room. Your sister’s voice picks up behind you as she starts to bicker with your mother, but you’re already falling into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow. 

***

Unfortunately, morning doesn’t bring you any peace and quiet like you were hoping for. 

As soon as you were even halfway conscious, your mother had practically dragged you to the kitchen table, shoving you into a seat as she began pacing the length of the room. She was clearly agitated, and you didn’t have to wait long to find out why.

“What exactly happened yesterday, daughter? First, rumors are flying that the King’s son ended up in your store, then there are the rumors that the King himself visited, and then you come home half asleep, muttering about the King’s given name?! What in the name of the Maker possessed you, child? Do you know how much trouble we could get in with you just throwing the name of the King around like he’s some... some....”

Your mother’s breath quickens as she rants, raising higher and higher until she’s practically shouting. Her yelling makes you feel about a third of your actual height, small and meek as she scolds you. Stars, you knew better than to say the King’s name out loud, it was the height of disrespect! And coming from someone of your station? If anyone other than your mother or sister had heard... 

It didn’t bear thinking about. 

Your buir is clearly waiting for an explanation, but just as you open your mouth, a sharp knock sounds at the door. Both of your heads jerk towards the entryway, and for a moment, neither of you move. 

When you go to stand, your mother holds up her hand sharply, gesturing for you to stay put. You feel shame rising in your cheeks at the way she’s treating you, like you’re still a child, but given last night, you can’t entirely blame her.

You’re only half listening as she answers the door, but when she calls your name loudly, her voice shaky, you jerk out of your seat, practically running to the door to see what’s wrong, only to draw up short when you see the woman standing there.

“I’m Cara Dune. I’m an advisor to the King,” she informs your mother, bending in a short, sharp bow of respect, causing your mother’s eyes to widen. “I’ve been sent to collect your daughter.” She turns to you. “Our King requests your presence at the palace.”

You have to physically stop yourself from twisting your hands in your skirt nervously. “Di– Did the King say why?” You ask, heart racing as you try to remember every little detail about your interaction with him yesterday. Did you offend him in some way, and he’s only now punishing you for it? Does he think you lied to him about the bounty hunters? Does–

“Your presence is requested.”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. Even though it is framed as a request, all three of you are well aware of the fact that a summons by the King is not something to be turned down lightly. 

“Come on.” Cara turns and stalks out the door, her steps heavy and loud in the tense silence of your house. Your mother is staring at you with this indescribable expression, but when you make to step past her, she grips your arm tightly, causing you to turn to look at her.

“If you’ve done anything–”

The threat hangs in the air, and you nod shakily. She doesn’t even need to finish her statement. You understand her meaning perfectly clear. Whatever problems you’ve caused need to be fixed, or else. Your family doesn’t need the displeasure of the King of Mandalore hanging over your heads. 

She lets you go and you follow Cara out the door, wishing you had a moment to change into something more presentable. You’re just in a simple dress meant for working around the house, not for audiences with royalty. Unfortunately, you doubt Cara is going to want to wait, and the quicker you get through this inevitable disaster, the better.

There’s a speeder waiting to take you both to the palace. Cara’s already waiting, so you gingerly step inside. 

“Never been in a speeder before?”

You don’t have to look at her to know she’s looking at you with that look. The one all the higher-born give those born into a lower station, the peasants. “My family has never exactly been in a position to afford a ride in a speeder, much less own one of our own.”

Cara hums, and gestures for the speeder to start. You feel the engines rumbling beneath your feet and the speeder starts up, gliding smoothly above the ground as you begin to make your way out of the lower levels and up towards the palace.

You can’t help but look around, entranced by the way the buildings shift, from dingy, rundown stores and homes to sleek, shining high-rises and elegant towers seemingly constructed purely of transparisteel. You’ve never been out of the village before, so this was all completely unfamiliar, and you were even more self-conscious of your appearance. It was clear you didn’t belong here.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Cara said suddenly, and you looked over at her incredulously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Din so tongue-tied before.”

The King? Speechless? Because of you?! 

“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” you whispered, looking down at your hands. Maker, your buir would kill you if you brought such unnecessary and unwanted attention to yourself. It wasn’t proper for a peasant to be drawing the attention of anyone above their station, especially the King himself. It didn’t matter how it had felt when he’d spoken to you, nor how his hand had felt on your back when he’d stood behind you in your shop. Peasants had been killed in the past for less scandalous acts than you’d engaged in.

“You’re very pretty.” Your head jerked up at Cara’s blunt words. “I’m not surprised Din is so drawn to you.”

Oh Maker, he thought you were pretty?

Cara just chuckled, terror and embarrassment clear on your features as you gripped your skirts tightly. This was not good. 

“It’s not proper.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and Cara suddenly stopped laughing. You flinched, worried that you’d offended her when she suddenly covered your hands with her own. 

“Din doesn’t care about propriety. He was a bounty hunter before he became the King. The same people who look down on you for being a shopkeeper looked down on him as just a dumb mercenary.” You slowly raised your head, meeting Cara’s surprisingly comforting gaze. “And now, they all grovel at his boots, hoping that he’s forgotten how they treated him before he won the Darksaber.”

She pauses again, her hands tightening over yours. “Din doesn’t care about money or expensive gowns or connections. None of those things could impress him more than when he saw how you’d genuinely cared for his son. You didn’t know he was the King’s son, you didn’t care. You just saw a hurt child and took him in. That is why Din was so entranced with you.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before something struck you as odd. “W–Wait, was? What do you mean by that?”

Cara’s soft grin suddenly turned wicked. Your eyes widened at the pure glee and mischief in her eyes. “Well, then he met you.” She waggled her brows, looking you up and down, a dirty smirk wide on her lips. “Now he’s entranced for a whole other reason.”

The innuendo was clear in her voice, and you felt your cheeks heat rapidly. She had to be joking. There was no way that the King found you attractive. It just wasn’t possible. You’d spent your entire life being told how plain you looked, by your buir, and the children you’d grown up with. You sister and Vys had tried to tell you otherwise, but you knew they were just trying to make you feel better after yet another boy taunted that you’d never find someone who wanted you.

Mandalorians were well known for their passion and intense desire. It wasn’t unheard of for couples to say their vows in their late teens, with females often pregnant before their twentieth year. Courtships often took days and weeks instead of months and years, a hold-over from when Mandalore almost fell to the Empire. It had become custom to find a riddur and marry quickly, and to get pregnant even quicker, incase too many warriors fell in battle.

Children were revered in your culture, and men and women alike dreamed of starting families, raising ad’ike and ensuring the continuation of the Mandalorian way of life, a desire that only grew stronger with the war. 

Even though you weren’t that old in terms of lifecycles, you were much older than was typical for starting a family. Your sister had married young, but her husband had died only a year and a half after their union, and she’d chosen not to find a new riddur. Your brother has been married for close to twenty years now. But you’d never come close to finding someone you wanted to spend your life with. Not that your family hadn’t tried to fix that. 

But you didn’t want to marry someone just so that you could pop out a few children so that you could be seen as “doing your duty for the betterment Mandalore.” You just wanted a riddur who would respect and love you, but it seemed that it wasn’t meant to be. The few boys you’d let your guard down around and had gotten close to had been absolute di’kuts, cocky and rude, demanding you submit to them and give up everything to please them, so you’d given up on ever finding a riddur.

“I’m not the kind of woman to inspire those kinds of thoughts in a man,” you muttered, missing the suggestive smirk Cara sent your way. 

“You’ll see,” she whispered, turning back to watch as you approached the palace.

***

Cara had marched through the grand hallways of the palace with an air of authority that stunned you. Even though her outfit made her look out of place in the sleek and elegant palace rooms and halls, her absolute confidence radiated out, filling the rooms with her presence. 

You just followed along behind, silently grateful for the fact that the palace seemed to be empty. Cara seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you followed her through all the turns, hopelessly lost. You’d never be able to find your way out of here by yourself, which made you feel a little uncomfortable, but you tried not to dwell on it. 

As you made your way down yet another hallway, you started to hear what sounded like grunts, along with repeated clangs of metal hitting metal. Eyes wide, you almost asked Cara what it was you were hearing when she turned, a grin on her face. 

“We’re here.”

She pushed open a door, and the grunts and clangs grew louder as the two of you entered what looked to be a training room. There was a large mat in the center of the room, with seating off to one side. There was specialized equipment lining the other sides, for what you assumed was different exercise routines. You first noticed little Grogu, seated on the stands. He turned when the door opened, and his little coo reached your ears as he clambered down, waddling over to you as fast as he could. 

You’d thought he was running to Cara, but when he ran straight past her and collided with your legs, your eyes widened. He gripped the fabric of your skirts in his little claws, his big, beautiful eyes begging for you to pick him up. 

Without thinking you bent over and scooped him up, settling him on your hip. You looked up to see Cara grinning. “He missed you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He really didn’t want to leave your shop last night. He pouted all day until Din told him you were coming.” Your heart melted, looking down at the little one who was snuggling into your side. 

There was a loud smack, and you looked up suddenly to see a huge shirtless man falling back onto the mat, the beskar staff falling to the ground next to him. Another man, also shirtless, stood over the fallen fighter, his own beskar staff secure in his grasp. 

A quiet gasp left your mouth, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. The man with his back to you was clearly in excellent shape, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his shoulders broad and muscled. His dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed the nape of his neck. His legs were clad in a pair of black pants, tight enough to show the muscles of his thighs and calves. You’d never seen a more attractive man, and you hadn’t even seen his face. The man on the ground was attractive as well, big and hulking and covered in tattoos, but your eyes kept flitting back to the victor of the fight.

You didn’t see the gleeful look Cara shot you, as she watched your eyes widen and your breath hitch when you saw the two fighters. Maybe if you’d seen her look, you would have been better prepared for what came out of her mouth.

“Din! Paz! We’ve got a guest, you nerf herders!”

Her yell was loud enough to cover the gasp of shock as you realized just who the shirtless men were. You recognized Paz, the general of Mandalore’s fighting corps, even though you’d never seen him. Gossip about him and his abilities had reached even the lower villages, and his tattoos were legendary. But it was the other man who still held your attention. The King.

He turned, his eyes landing on you and Cara, standing near the door. His gaze focused on you, and you felt your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. You’d thought his armour was intimidating, but actually looking him in the eyes was far more so. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he began to move towards the three of you. 

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and not the glistening skin of his bare chest. As he approached, Cara leaned in, plucking Grogu from your arms and whispering “have fun!” before turning and making her way towards Paz. Your eyes widened as she left your side, before you forced yourself to sink into a curtsy as the King came to a stop in front of you.

“My king,” you whispered, standing upright, but keeping your head bowed. You had no idea why you’d been summoned, and you were practically trembling with worry.

He was silent for a moment when suddenly, he reached out, lightly gripping your chin as he coaxed your head up, his eyes dark as he captured your gaze. 

“I thought I asked you to call me Din?” His voice was soft, soothing, and yet you felt shame. Your king wanted one thing, but you knew what propriety demanded, even if it meant disobeying his direct order. 

“It’s not proper, my king. I have no right to speak your name–”

He shushed you softly, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw. “If you truly do not wish to use my name, I will not force you, darling.” Your eyes widened at his words, shocked. Here you were, outright disobeying a direct order from your King, and he was okay with that?

“But I dearly wish you would,” he continued, watching your face closely. “My name sounds so sweet, falling from your lips. I would ask you to humor me, at least when we’re alone.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. He was looking at you so earnestly, and his hand was warm against your neck. You’d never had anyone look at you like this, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“It’s not proper for me to address so informally,” You started, pausing to take a deep breath. “But, if you desire for me to use your name in private, then... I–I suppose I can humor you.” You paused once more. “Din.”

The soft smile that spreads across his face is dazzling. 

“Thank you, darling.” He murmurs, releasing your jaw and taking your hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your cheeks warm. The effect this man was having on you was one you’d never experienced before, and it was clear he knew just what kind of effect he had on you. 

His eyes ran up and down your figure unashamed, and you were surprised to see a pleased smirk on his face as he looked at you. You’d never had someone look at you with such desire, and it brought on a dizzying feeling. You looked away, unused to such feelings and attention.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Din said, brushing his fingers across your cheek, turning your face back towards his. “Has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

You were sure he could feel your burning cheeks underneath his fingertips. You slowly shook your head, wanting to look away out of embarrassment, but his dark gaze held you firm. 

“Well they should,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You struck me speechless yesterday.” He chuckled, his dark hair falling gently over his brow. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth, worrying the flesh out of nervousness. You’d never been this close to a man, let alone a half-dressed one.

Your breath suddenly hitched as his thumb moved to brush over your lower lip, pulling it from between your teeth. His gaze was heavy, looking at you as though you were something precious, something to be desired. 

The trance was suddenly broken by a loud yell from behind Din. 

“Djarin! I want a rematch!”

You’d jerked at the sudden sound, but Din only sighed, his eyes sliding shut as he stood before you, your face still cradled in his palm. He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at you. 

“Have you ever seen a sparring match before?” When you shook your head, he gestured to the seats behind you. “Stay. Watch.”

He released you, turning and stalking back towards Paz, leaving you standing there with a warm face and fluttering in your stomach. You were dazed, and caught off-guard when Cara suddenly appeared back at your side, with Grogu in her arms. 

“Come on, the kid likes to watch too.”

She all but dragged you to the seats, pulling you down next to her and plopping the little one onto your lap. Automatically, your arms came up around him, but you were still lost, your gaze still unfocused as you tried to make sense of the conversation that had just taken place.

You watched as Din and Paz centered themselves on the mat, falling into stances, with their staffs held at the ready. Muscles tense, the two men were still for a few moments, before they suddenly sprung into action. The clangs as their staffs collided were loud, and you watched, wide-eyed as the two men fought ferociously.

“Good, isn’t he?”

You just nodded dumbly, unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. Cara chuckled, leaning forward and bracing her arms on her legs as she watched alongside you.

“You ever learn how to fight?”

You scoffed. “No. I’m a female shopkeeper from the lower villages. The most I was ever taught was how to run away and scream for help.” Unfortunately, unless you joined the fighting corps, most of those in the lower villages weren’t concerned with teaching women how to defend themselves. Your mother had always balked at the idea that you should learn how to fight, insisting that your husband would be able to take care of you, ignoring the fact that you still weren’t married. 

Cara shrugged. “I bet Din’d teach you if you asked.” 

A choking sound left your mouth, and Cara laughed.

***

“Your center of gravity is here.” 

You stood as still as you could, feeling the warmth of Din’s palm as he pressed against your lower stomach, his bare chest pressed into your back. His breath was hot against your neck, and you swore you could feel the brush of his lips against your skin as he spoke.

His fingers splayed against your bare skin, his other hand gripping your waist. “If you keep your legs spread,” he muttered, using his his bare foot to knock your feet apart, forcing your stance wider. “Your center of gravity will be lower, and it’ll be harder to knock you down.”

You nodded, shifting slightly to settle your weight better onto the balls of your feet. Din’s hand squeezed your hip, before he let go and moved to come and stand in front of you. He mimicked your stance, thumping the center of his chest with one fist. 

“Hit me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “I want you to try and knock me down. So, hit me.”

Frowning, you hesitated for a moment. “How am I supposed to knock you down? You’re so much bigger than I am.”

Din chuckled. “I may be bigger, darling, but that usually means I’m going to be slower. Don’t try and use brute force, play to your strengths. You’re smaller than I am, but that doesn’t have to mean that you’re weaker. My center of gravity is here,” he tapped the middle of his chest, at his sternum. “It’s higher up on men, so it’s easier to knock us off our feet. You’re naturally more grounded. Use that to your advantage.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up like Din had showed you. You threw your fist forward, but Din’s hand came up, blocking your punch easily. 

You frowned, and he only grinned. “Try again.”

This time, you tried to punch with your other hand, to throw him off, but Din still blocked your punch. Even though you weren’t surprised, you were still frustrated.  

“Come on, darling. It’s not that hard, just hit me.”

His voice is sweetly condescending, and it lights a fire in your core. You can do this. You’ve just gotta hit him.

You throw a punch with your non-dominant hand, and as he goes to block it, you snap your other hand up, nailing him square in the center of his chest. He lets out a grunt, and as he bends over slightly from the force of your punch, you lean over and dart forward, ramming your shoulder into his stomach, knocking him further off-balance. 

He falls back onto the mat, and you follow him down, landing on top of him, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands grip his shoulders, pushing him into the mat. You’re leaning over him, panting, a smug grin on your lips. 

Din is smirking up at you, and you get the odd sensation that even though he’s the one on the ground, pinned under your weight, he’s still in control. 

“There you go, was that so hard?”

You scoffed, sitting back, settling onto his lower stomach as you glared down at him. “God, what would it take for you to shut up?”

Din’s still smirking, but he mock-pouts at your words. “Aw, darling, you don’t like how I’m using my mouth?”

You groan, tilting your head back to stare up at the ceiling, annoyed. “Not particularly, no.” You miss the dark look that suddenly appears in Din’s eyes, but you don’t miss the way he abruptly grasps the back of your knees and jerks, bringing you up so that your core is centered over his face. You almost lose your balance with the movements, falling forward and bracing your hands on the mat as Din brings your legs up to straddle his face. 

“Din?!” You gasp, your face growing hot as you feel his breath against your core through the thin fabric of your training pants. He just ignores you, ripping both your pants and your underwear in one quick move, his arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down so that you’re riding his face. 

The first touch of his tongue against your folds causes you to whimper, the sensation unfamiliar but so good. He’s gentle at first, carefully stroking you with his tongue, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient, his arms tightening on your hips as he pulls you down. 

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you shudder, your head falling forward, eyes clenched shut. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks, and a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your thighs trembling as he devours you like you’re the sweetest thing in the galaxy. 

Din is relentless, insatiable, fucking you on his tongue, and every time breathy gasps and moans leave your mouth, he goes harder, faster, his fingers gripping your skin so tight you’ll wear the bruises for days.

“Fuck, Din–” You gasp, one of your hands gripping his hair as he grinds you down onto his face. “Please, don’t stop–!”

He moans into you as you tug on his hair, and the vibrations are just fuel for the fire that’s burning in your veins. He encourages you to circle your hips, helping you ride his face as he eats you out like you’re the last food he’s ever going to get to eat. You’re not sure how he hasn’t had to stop to breathe, but then he’s suckling on your clit and flicking it with his tongue and you almost scream. 

“I–I’m gonna come, please, Din–!”

He sucks harder and you’re almost there, and–

***

Your eyes snap open, your whole body tense as you gasp, the fire burning in your belly becoming a raging inferno, and you have to clasp your hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the whole village. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing as you come, legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

The fingers of your other hand are clenched tightly in the sheets as your hips desperately grind against nothing but air. Tears are leaking out of your eyes and running down your face as you sob brokenly into your hand. You’ve never felt anything so powerful, so overwhelming. 

As you lay panting on your bed, trembling in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, your heart thumps in your chest as you remember the way Din had looked between your thighs. Groaning, you rolled over, drawing up into a little ball. 

It was just a dream. 

Just a dream.

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[itsrayyyyyyyyyy]

Depths of Devotion (Yandere!Hellhound x GN!Reader)

TW: Stalking?? Kinda?, Kidnapping Wordcount: 2k

You had never seen something so beautiful in your life. You breathed in the crisp and clean air of the forest while your lips curled in a small smile.

You had decided it would be a good idea to escape home for a while and enter the spectacular landscape of Southern Germany. You exited the cab and paid the man for the fair before looking forward into the dark woods of the Black Forest. With high hopes, you walked forward in the direction of your cabin.

---

You hummed a light tune as you admired the towering trees and the wildflowers surrounding you. A small hum left your throat as you bent down, and picked up a flower, and the closer you inspected it, it turned out to be a tiny violet. You fiddled with the petals for a moment, before tucking the violet behind your ears.

The journey towards the campsite wasn't too long, but it took you longer since you stopped numerous times to admire the beauty that surrounded you. A huff escaped your lips as you approached the cabin, sitting on a log and digging in your bag for your keys. The silver of the keys gleamed in the sunlight, before being used to open the cabin door.

The first thing you noticed was that it was cold and damp. The cabin looked as though it hadn't been used in years. You groaned as you set your bag down at the door, and placing your hands on your hips. 'No wonder this place was so cheap; it's a dump!' Your eye twitched slightly in annoyance, but you still shrugged off your windbreaker and placing on the bed. The cabin was relatively small; just enough space for about two people. The wooden planks beneath you creaked with every step; along with the furniture. The furniture had a light layer of dust and when you swiped your hand against the table, the dust particles roaming the still air of the cabin. You let out a few coughs while swiping at the air, trying to clear your lungs of the irritation from the dust. An old broom sat still against the single kitchen cabinet, which was even dustier than the rest of the cabin. You reached out and held the broom in your hand, and slowly rubbed your thumb against the handle, which felt smooth and cold against your skin. You began to sweep the furniture with newfound vigor, hoping to make your home for the week easier to live.  

With the furniture and floor cleaned, you set the broom back in its original spot and sat down on the small bed, which let out a groan under the weight of you and your bag. A sigh left your lips as you heard the calling of birds outside one of the open windows, warmth from the light of the sun pooling into the cabin. The cool air and somewhat comfortable bed brought you comfort and helped relaxed your aching bones. You reached down and untied your heavy hiking boots, before dropping them on the floor with a loud 'thump'. The bed squeaked as you laid back against the red comforter and with a yawn, you closed your weary eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

---

As soon as you groggily opened your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself in an entirely new place. You were sitting on the ground and were surrounded by complete darkness, except the small flurries of red and orange embers flying around you, and a light orange glow far up ahead. "Where am I?" You whispered as you stood and wiped the dirt and ashes from your hiking outfit. You slowly began to walk towards the light ahead, then a feeling of sudden uneasiness washes over you. "Hello? Is someone else here?" You yelled into the endless void, but it was no use. The sneaky feeling of someone watching you never left as you walked closer to the light.

The smell of ashes burned the inside of your nostrils and entered your lungs, causing a series of coughs to leave your throat as you walked onward, the feeling of someone watching you never truly left you. A feeling of immense fear invaded your senses when you heard the barking of what you hoped was a dog and its footsteps coming closer. You began to walk faster towards the light, only for the steps to walk faster towards you, causing you to go in a panic. You broke out into a sprint towards the warm orange light ahead, with the thundering steps getting closer to you. A heavy feeling began to weigh you down as you had pushed forward as fast as you could to be rid yourself of the thing behind you.

You looked back as you ran, only to let out a scream at what you saw. You saw what seemed to be a wolf-like creature lung forward, its jaw snapping and its red eyes staring into your soul. But just before it reached you, Your eyes opened.

---

You sat up quickly with ragged breaths and clutching your shirt in fear. You looked around with tears blurring your vision, only to see the cabin dark with the only light was the silver moon shining through the window. Images of the creature raced through your mind and you tried to calm your breathing. "Never in my life have I ever had a nightmare that realistic..." Your voice softly spoke as you rose from the bed and turned on the lights. Your hands reached out for your bag and pulled out a can of soup, before pulling out a pot from the kitchen cabinet and heating the stovetop.

After you ate your dinner and cleaned up after yourself, you quickly changed into your nightwear and got ready for bed, or rather to relax. You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep for a while after that hellish nightmare so you settled on reading a book while waiting for the need to sleep to take over your sore body. You closed the book and let out a stifled yawn while stretching your arms. You placed the book carefully on the nightstand before turning off the lights and climbing into the bed, and enjoying the silence.

But that silence didn't last long.

---

Unbeknownst to your sleeping form, the moon shifted until it was shining on your sleeping face, giving the figure outside a perfect few of you swaddled in the warm blankets; a peaceful look on your face. The figure moved from the window and crept towards the door before it opens on its own with its hinges squeaking. Heavy but quiet footsteps approached you as you slept until the figure hovered over you. You stirred in your sleep, the smell of ash filling your nose as you let out a small moan of discomfort at the feeling of something touching your cheek. Your eyes opened slowly, only to register the large and imposing figure looming over you. It took you a second to realize what was going on, before letting out a screech and scrambled off the other side of the bed. Your body hit the floor with a thump before scrambling on your feet and making a break for the open door. You pushed through the door frame and ran further into the woods, a feeling of dread overwhelming your senses as you heard heavy and thundering footsteps following close behind you.

Your lungs burned as you pushed forward away from the cabin and deeper into the dark woods with pure fear coursing through your veins. You had never been more scared in your entire life. The dream from before was scary sure but this wasn't a dream; it was happening, and you needed to get away as fast as possible. You looked back into the winding darkness of the forest and heard a howl causing you to let a squeal; not noticing the steep hill ahead of you, causing you to fall with a gasp. You were no longer focused on the figure following you but on the searing pain all around your body as you rolled further down, before reaching the bottom of the hill and hitting your head on a rock. You lay against the rock with your vision spinning and your ears ringing. Something trickled down the side of your face, but you paid no mind to it. But just before you fell into unconsciousness, the figure stood in front of you, leaning in closer to you before your vision went black.

---

Your head was pounding wildly as you woke. You sat up slowly, rubbing your head only to touch something wet. You retracted your hand only to see a bit of blood on your fingertips. "Shit what happened..." You exclaimed only to wince in pain, your brain seemingly pounding against your skull harder than before. You took in your surroundings only to realize you weren't in the cabin, but a cave of some sort. The cave walls and roof towered over you, and the sound of water dripping from the roof brought you to your senses. The figure, the hill. You desperately looked around only to find no entry to the cave, only darkness aside from the moon shining through a hole in the roof. You looked up at the moon with a sour expression. "Why must you tempt me so, the moon?" You whispered as you turned your head at the sound of footsteps nearing. You began to panic, but knew you couldn't get up, your body was worn from hours of hiking, running, and rolling down a steep hill.

You curled into yourself as the footsteps drew nearer, a strained whimper left your lips as you shook in fear. The figure stopped right in front of the light of the moon, before stepping into the light. Your eyes widened at the sight. A large, muscular man stood before you. He was incredibly handsome; He had tan skin and short hair black as ebony; his face structure was sharp and square, with many scars littering his face and body. But the most captivating about him were his blood-red eyes hooded by his long, dark lashes. He looked down at your balled-up form and knelt in front of you. "Are you feeling any better, meine Geliebte?" The man spoke gently. His voice was incredibly deep and saccharine, like honey. You gave the man a confused look before backing away at his large, scarred hand that reached for you. His calloused hand took your right cheek in his hand before wiping away the hot tears that rolled down your face. You hadn't even realized you were crying, just like how you didn't realize how much you were trembling before this broad man. "Who are you? Where am I?" Your voice trembled as he retracted his hand and gave you a sharp-toothed smile. "My name is Brenner, meine Geliebte. And I have taken you to our home." Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words. "Our home?" You said with curiosity laced in your voice. "Yes, our home. Now, come here." His voice rumbled before reaching over resting one hand on your upper back while the other reached under your legs to lift you. "NO!" You screamed as you struggled in his arms, trying desperately to escape this large man's grasp.

Brenner was unaffected by your attempts to escape and continued to walk further into the cave, away from the silver moon's light. "WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN ME YOU-YOU BRUTE?" You screeched beating at his broad chest as he continued walking. "meine Geliebte, don't you remember me? You were walking towards the fire, and I was behind you! I saw you and I knew you were the mate I was destined to have, so I took you far from the horrors of this world." You stopped struggling as your blood ran cold. "The dog? No, that couldn't be...But how did he know about your dream?" You thought to yourself as you stared at Brenner. "That couldn't be...It was only a dream." You spoke fearfully as he looked down at you with a big smile. "Wait. His teeth..." Your eyes widened in fear at his teeth. They were sharp like a dog; or rather a wolfs.

An ear-piercing scream left your mouth as you struggled again in his hold, tears streaming down your face. "Don't worry, meine Geliebte! I will take good care of you!"

"I love you, meine Geliebte!"

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Get Comfy’ - Bench Trio Fluff

TommyInnit needs his best friend for comfort. Tubbo has a meeting. Ranboo comes to the rescue. (Set post-Tommy’s resurrection, pre-failed Dream assassination.)

“I’m trapped!” He cried out jokingly to Ranboo as he passed them to get to the ladder, and his husband laughed and continued on his way in response.

Of all the places in the world to be stuck, this was hardly even bad.

Tommy had appeared in the early hours of the morning on Tubbo’s doorstep in Snowchester, fingers blue and whole body shaking. Not only was he physically cold and vulnerable, but Tubbo could see the way his eyes darted about and the protective stance he held when he answered the door. He uttered: “Tommy? Are you alright?”, and that’s all it took for Tommy to collapse in on himself muttering and crying, and in turn that’s all it took for Tubbo’s best friend instinct to kick in. He brought Tommy inside, pressed him to change out of his wet clothes, made them both a hot chocolate, and then sat them on a window seat, where Tommy helpfully laid out the entire situation - bad nightmare last night, and he’d taken some damage on the way over - while they sat shoulder to shoulder, sipping on their drinks and watching a light snow fall fresh over the town. 

When Tommy finished his distressed retelling, Tubbo picked up the conversation, telling Tommy about inconsequential nothings like the stroganoff dinner they’d had the night before that went slightly awry, and Tommy added his own anecdotes about hairy cooking and whatever else along the way, getting calmer and more like himself the longer they sat. Eventually, Tubbo realised Tommy wasn’t chiming in anymore, and that’s because he had passed out on him, head lolled against his shoulder and nearly-empty mug slowly slipping from his hand. Tubbo took it and set it down softly, and then he put his head back and closed his eyes too, some part of him wishing he hadn’t slept so well last night.

He opened his eyes again as Ranboo reappeared from upstairs. "Is he asleep?" Tubbo asked him, to which Ranboo smirked. "I don't know, is he?" Tubbo pulled a face in response. "Yeah, he is." "So's Michael."

Tubbo looked back at the boy asleep on his shoulder and slipped an arm around him, shifting his weight to be leaning more on him. The rise and fall of his chest - like the waves in the fjord - reassured him that Tommy was back, not locked away somewhere Tubbo couldn't follow nor save him from. He'd had enough scares regarding that for one lifetime to make it anything but calming to watch his best friend's breathing as he slept, laying a hand beneath his collarbone and feeling the ‘thump, thump, thump’ of his heart. Stubbornly beating, still.

He could feel Ranboo’s presence over his shoulder before he spoke, “I didn’t think he could be this quiet.” “Pssh, don’t wake him.” They snickered together, Ranboo resting a hand on Tubbo’s free shoulder.

“Are you planning on staying there ‘till he wakes up?” Tubbo nodded slowly, and when Ranboo didn’t answer he turned his head to look at his husband, whose expression seemed an accurate depiction of a man who wished not to deliver some bad news. “What is it?” “You have that… town meeting at two. Which is in ten minutes.” “Shit.”

He’d completely forgotten about the Snowchester residents meeting he and Jack had called, somehow. They were searching for a missing nuke, and a relatively inconspicuous town meeting about security seemed the best way to open the discussion. Only, none of that would matter if he wasn’t there. Tommy seemed to grow heavier at his side, and regret curled around his heart. The chances of him being able to move Tommy alone without waking him were as slim as the chances of both of them making it to twenty. Not impossible, but not something to be trifled with. Unless…

“You okay?” He felt Ranboo squeeze his other shoulder, mild concern furrowing his brow. “Yeah, I just-” He indicated Tommy with a head tilt. “I’d rather not wake him.” He lifted his gaze, making eye contact with the taller boy and laying his free hand on his side. “I don’t suppose you could help?”

He watched as Ranboo’s brain caught up with the question, picking up Tubbo’s hand from his waist and swinging it back and forth a little absentmindedly. “Yeah, what is it?” Tubbo shuffled his legs a bit, hoping they hadn’t fallen asleep so he could get up. “Can you take him - actually, take my spot - without waking him?” By then, he’d positioned himself so his hands were under Tommy, holding up most of his body weight with one hand and an achy shoulder. Ranboo sprang into action instinctively (having a child will do that to you, he supposed), half-kneeling on the window seat behind Tubbo. “Yeah, yeah I can.” They conducted the change-over quietly, as Ranboo squeezed into the gap Tubbo left as the smaller boy propped up his friend against Ranboo’s side. There was a hold-your-breath moment as Tommy settled against Ranboo’s arm (and not his shoulder, because of the height difference), shook his head slightly in his sleep, and kept right on snoozing. Ranboo maneuvered his arm around Tommy, and then they breathed that long, sweet sigh of relief.

“Thank Prime.” “Thank Prime? Thank me, that was my expertise at work, excuse me.” Tubbo kissed him on the forehead lightly. “Thank you.” Then he scurried off to get his coat from across the room, and Ranboo realised his own predicament.

“Excuse me, Mr President-” “Militarist Commune!” “-Whatever. I appear to have been trapped.” Tubbo’s laugh was akin to a dog’s bark, and he quickly hopped across the room while pulling a boot on to the kitchen table, and then back to Ranboo and Tommy on the window seat. He put Ranboo’s phone, earphones and an apple into Ranboo’s hand, and then hop-stepped away again to find his other boot.

“What’s this?” “What do you mean ‘what’s this’?” Ranboo’s expression was pure bemusement as he looked over his stuff. “You didn’t have any plans for the next couple hours, did you?” After a beat, Ranboo replied with a simple “Nope.” Tubbo grinned mischievously. “Good. Get comfy.”

Ranboo looked down at the blonde boy currently curled up against his side, his breath wheezing slightly with every breath he took. “I- I don’t think he’ll react too kindly to- to waking up next to me.” Tubbo shrugged, his hand on the doorknob. “You have three canon lives.” His face split into a joyous smirk as Ranboo’s jaw dropped to the floor. “...Okay then.”

It took Tubbo a full ten seconds to recover his composure enough to speak again. “I’m joking. Mostly.” He pulled a perturbed expression for a second. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll probably make you swear to pretend it never happened. Or-” His eyes flicked down to the sleeping boy one more time, and he wrapped his arms around himself, like he was recalling the warmth. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. Bye!” And just like that he was gone. Ranboo watched him step lightly down the path, and relaxed. Prevent husband being late to his own security meeting: check.

Tommy shifted slightly at his side again, and he looked down at him as he attempted to untangle his earphones with one hand. In sleep, there was none of the shouting, or the weird guttural growling noise he made sometimes, or the insults Ranboo hoped were just friendly teasing. All of the tension had left him, and the lines around his brow from where he spent most of his time squinting or glowering were smoothed out. He looked so peaceful, so unlike Ranboo had ever seen him before. Tubbo’s presence had made him feel safe enough to calm down, to lower the shield and bring down the walls, and fall asleep with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. Their bond was incredible, really, to have survived wars and multiple canon deaths and a fight that was bigger than either of them, watched by the whole world. And Tommy trusted Tubbo to protect him, enough to pass out on him in the middle of the day.

The enderman-hybrid knew he could not compete with either side of their shared attachment, nor did he want to. But, he thought as he brushed a bit of lint away from one of Tommy’s eyes, if he could be even a little bit like that for Tubbo, he might find the family he’d craved as far back as he could remember. It wasn’t a memory, it was more like a feeling. Something that ran deeper than his conscious thoughts. A sixth sense, a raw instinct. To keep his family safe, however he must.

And if he could convince the strong-willed second-in-command as well? The more the merrier.

[ohshitmomitsawritingblog]

Yay I found another blog that does headcanons for naruto!! I’m so excited I hope this is an okay ask but can I have headcanons on what it’s like to be sasuke’s twin sister? It’s okay if you don’t want to

You know I was going to delete this but this got my brain cranking along like the rusty little train that it is, so—

What it’s like to be Sasuke’s twin sister?

One word: exhausting

I think having a sister would’ve totally changed the trajectory of Sasuke’s life - that is to say, especially if she survived the massacre, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Sasuke’s twin would’ve been inherently integrated into shinobi life and inundated with expectations of what it is to be a Uchiha without actually being apart of it like her brothers.

Given their parent’s dynamics, I imagine she’s given mostly domestic responsibilities and is expected to carry and represent their nuclear family in civilian settings. There’s no real expectation of her becoming a shinobi, but that’s also because Fugaku probably doesn’t think a lot about his daughter. Given what we see with how he treats Sasuke, I just can’t really fathom him valuing any extra children, but especially the ‘youngest’ girl.

This man does not respect women I’m SORRY.

The misogyny is located in the jowls.

If Sasuke is the spare, his sister is the spare’s spare.

Sasuke both scorns his sister (either for her attempts at training without approval or disapproval, or for her being domestically trained, or both) and loves her greatly.

His sister loves him and scolds him ruthlessly - a trait that sours over their lifetime together, but is fostered by her lack of fear and complete awareness of who she is, who her older brother is, and what her twin brother will be.

Despite Sasuke monopolizing much of his time to training from a young age, there’s always some twin time - they eat lunches together, they wade through ponds in the spring to catch frogs, and take walks in the woods surrounding Konoha.

Often in their younger years, they’ll huddle under covers at night and conspire about the future. Travel, fantastical dreams of being some undefined best at something, their secret wants and needs.

There’s the dynamic before and the dynamic after their clan’s demise: Sasuke intermittently snubbing her yet always coming to her defense like the little sweet little boy he was, and then the mutual, slow divorce of anything either could call closeness.

She activates her sharingan less in a fit of rage and more while driven, blindly, by her own fear. A boot that is not Itachi’s digs into her back with a cruel twist. She gurgles and chokes on her own blood and the world washes out and away and yet is a perfect picture in her mind upon recall.

They can’t speak to each other, and they can’t talk. Nights where either tip toes into the other’s room after a nightmare or sleepless silence are ruined by either finding themselves on the knife’s edge of a gut churning memory. Black eyes and black hair repel them both from seeking out comfort. The familiarity is alienating and painful, disconcerting on good nights, terror-rage inducing on the worst.

She stops cooking. Sasuke learns how to clean. Their only interactions are when he stiffly asks her how to make something or how to fix a torn sleeve. Little questions tailored to the end goal of complete independence. She can’t even snark about how ‘these things aren’t silly now, are they?’. They weren’t, but now they don’t have a mother nor a father nor aunt nor uncle to teach them anything else. They rely on her knowledge because, what else do they have?

They both drown, and they can’t save each other. Both are made more aware of their own suffering by seeing it in their perfect mirror image. The companion they’ve always had since the womb is now a source of agony, and yet the empathy they hold for one another is powerful. It causes them to avoid each other unless they are home or at school. They sit on opposite ends of the classroom. They skip or make meals at odd times to avoid the feeling of waiting, or of playing house with all the important toys having gone missing. It’s a sham they both resent.

They want to go home. They don’t believe in building homes out of other people, let alone each other. So where is home?

His sister starts to cook again when they’re ten years old. She realizes that her brother, who is taller and wider and more muscular than her by then, weighs less than her. She cooks him udon and leaves a note that even if he eats it cold, he still needs to eat.

The bowl is empty and washed the next morning.

His sister becomes a shinobi for many reasons, but mainly, she simply refuses to allow her idiot brothers to play at blood sport while she buries her head in the sand.

There’s also the matters of: her idiot brother and his pride that will inevitably get him murdered, the constant implications that she is only good for marriage, and, eventually, the deep knowledge that she doesn’t want her eyeballs ripped out.

Their early ninja days are spent more or less the same to the ones leading up to it. They’re rarely home, with conflicting schedules and assignments that leave them bone tired when they are.

Slowly, though, her brother changes. He smiles more. He cooked for her, once or twice. He gains weight. Like a murky, undefined shadow, she mimics.

I think they start to reconnect. They don’t since at the sight of each other anymore. Sometimes they even hug. They both have a certain kind of hope that is fragile and newborn, stumbling on fresh legs. They try very hard to be the family they need, for a moment.

Sasuke’s stay in the hospital during the chuunin exams is only a hiccup, a way for her to integrate, even a little, into the world of team seven.

Kakashi-sensei is a strange man, but he’s kind, too. Like her brother, she warms to him quietly. Sasuke seems to trust him, and that’s good enough for her to throw her own sense of trust in the pot.

Of course it all comes tumbling down rather soon after, doesn’t it?

[somerpmemes]

Disenchantment S3 Starters

Change as needed

“Who can resist a creepy mom hug?”

“She’s not an ugly, evil bitch. But she is sluttier than I imagined.”

“When I last saw you, you were a lot more dead.”

“Is your life so awful you have to keep wrecking mine?”

“You were a model of regal barbarism.”

“Something’s going on.”

“Like any two numbers, this don’t add up.”

“You’re a bloodthirsty bastard.”

“I’m no decision-maker, I’m an action-taker.”

“Oh, I wanted to gloat directly over our victim’s corpse.”

“Hand me a murder stick.”

“For a dying man, he’s making a lot of noise.”

“World domination can wait.”

“I’m allergic to pandering.”

“Trust me, I’m not playing mind games with you.”

“Just promise you’ll think about giving me another chance.”

“Hallelujah, amen, and ka-ching.”

“You realize you’re all I have.”

“I know you’re lying but I hope one day you’ll mean that.”

“Is it still true love if your wallet is missing?”

“I just figured out this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, this ruins so many fantasies.. but opens up so many new ones.”

“Actually, pretending to care about your feelings was exhausting.”

“___, do what you do best. Take your mommy issues out on somebody else.”

“This is the sinister plot that just keeps giving.”

“Souls are meant for damnation, not soup.”

“Fooling foolish fools is so satisfying.”

“Oh, that’s delightfully craven.”

“Okay I get it, I have a hot mom.”

“It’s not even good cake.”

“Aww, he spelt it ‘yer’.”

“I believe it’s pronounced ‘skedaddle’.”

“I always wanted to get lost in a labyrinth. It's like a puzzle you solve with your feet.”

“If someone else is plotting without us, I will be really miffed.”

“Aren’t boots supposed to bend at the knees?”

“They’re just being really hurtful.”

“I’ll never fall for one of your tricks again.”

“I won’t say that doesn’t hurt.”

“And now, I just wanna lie down.”

“I think we’re getting away with it.”

“Ugh, I swear these tight, sexy clothes were designed to cut off cognitive thinking.”

“Disappointment’s a form of caring.”

“Who you are is a nobody and what you are ain’t nothing.”

“Stop being so agreeable!”

“I dreamed of this moment for so long, but I’m more worried than validated.”

“He looks so different with his head sliced off.”

“You have the worst luck I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know how this could get any more degrading.”

“Don’t ever walk barefoot around here. And never eat at the strip clubs.”

“But often the craziest thoughts are the most true, you nutloaf!”

“This is a classy affair, more cleavage.”

“This means so much to whoever I am.”

“I’ve got a nice thing going. I don’t wanna mess it up by opening up my big mouth.”

“I would love to have you as one of my exes but I think it’s best if you think of me as your slutty grandma.”

“The faster you run the more beer you get.”

“Sorry, I’m a little damp and cranky.”

“I’m addicted to stealing wallets now.”

“A veritable sandwich of danger.”

“Neither of us are cats.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna knife you in your throat.”

“Now swim for it before the crabs swarm over you.”

“Wow! You can really taste the rage.”

“So it’s agreed, we don’t get caught.”

“Man, after-work drinks taste so much better than instead-of-work drinks.”

“If I were afraid I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know a lot of psychos.”

“Pretend like we planned on meeting here so no one yells at me for cutting in line.”

“It’s as educational as it is moisturizing.”

“Ha! That’s what you get for believing in love!”

“You were always good at sticking to things.”

“I know you don’t trust me, but whatever you do, do not trust him.”

“If I can’t trust you, how can I trust you to tell me who to trust?”

“What are you offering here?”

“This is big, I really need some time to drink about this.”

“Who is interrupting my insomnia!?”

“You act angry on the outside but deep down you’re lonely and inadequate.”

“I look like a macho flowerpot.”

“Like, I’ve hear of fashion disasters but you, sir, are a genocide.”

“Now to blend invisibly into the crowd.”

“I’m your knight in rusty armor.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, shut up ___.”

“Oh my god, I’m insulting myself.”

“We’re all ashamed of some flaw we can’t change.”

“Nature is full of green.”

“I bring good old-fashioned psychological torture to the party, okay? Just like your grandmother made.”

“Wow! This malnutrition is really slimming.”

“Oh my god, enough with the romantic fantasies.”

“That hot trash is with me.”

“I will never find that boot again.”

“Love is risky. That's what makes it so great, it pays off!”

“All I have is nightmares now.”

“How do you want to die? Slowly or extra slowly?”

“We’re one step away from happily ever after.”

“___, who have you pissed off this time?”

“Everything is either trying to kill me or kiss me.”

“From what I’ve heard, I’m both obnoxious and amazing.”

“Chalk one up for ignorance!”

“Here, drink this coffee. It’s been boiling for hours.”

“I’ve got so much love and nobody to give it to.”

“Apparently I’m not film friendly… or friendly.”

“Tell me what drugs you’re on so I know what to do when you pass out.”

“I got a lot of experience with relationships coming to a grinding halt.”

“Wait sorry, what were we talking about? Oh, wait, yeah, your pathetic love life.”

“Stop looking at me like that! I’m so vulnerable and you’re so mean.”

“Why’d you come back for me?”

“I left because I didn’t want to get hurt again and I came back because... I’ll never learn.”

“I’m not gonna ask where you pulled that from.”

“___, I tried to get help but nobody wanted to.”

“I would say it’s good to be back but I can’t shake the fact that life is meaningless and I’m gonna die alone.”

“I’ve got a lot to do now. Like go to my room and cry in the fetal position.”

“Don’t say “wink, wink”. Just wink.”

“You can bother me again when I grow a new heart.”

“Wallowing is underrated. People no longer expect things from you and you get to stop showering.”

“Sweetie, you’re young and beautiful and sandy.”

“Someday the right man or woman or creature will mate with you. Then you must eat them.”

“Oh my god, I want to shower again. That means I’ve regained the will to live!”

“Love the homicidal impulse but no.”

“But I only like gratification when it’s instant!”

“Oh, this ain’t good.”

“Oh god, they’re getting uglier.”

“Hey ___, who do you think I should punch first?”

“Sorry, I tend not to notice things that aren’t me.”

“I’m crestfallen and I can’t get up.”

“Don’t you know you can’t trust anyone but yourself?”

“I’m not kneeling, I’m dying.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna die soon.”

“You know, you have an impressive number of enemies for a girl your age.”

“Don’t be a drama queen. That is my job.”

“Well those are mixed messages.”

“My needs outweigh your scorn.”

“It’ll either cure him or kill him.”

“You do not wanna go in there unless you’re a fan of, like, dying.”

“Any operating instructions or ominous warnings?”

“You’re afraid to let people in and you hide behind sarcasm.”

“___, work on your issues.”

“So, this isn’t gonna get more normal anytime soon, is it?”

“You don’t have to die at home but you can’t die here.”

“I’ve had a lot of people leave me in my life but I’ve never ever ever not had you before.”

“I always thought you’d be dead in a ditch by now.”

“Why is it, ___, that every time you’re braiding my hair you tell me I’m going to die?”

“Braids hurt my brain.”

“Oh, you’re so going to die.”

“The key to getting dumped is not knowing how to take a hint.”

“Stop tempting fate.”

“I have resting sinister face.”

“I don’t know who to disobey.”

“Haven’t you ever seen an enchanted broom before?”

“Wow. Brutal honesty, that’s true friendship.”

“She blindsided me. While I was looking right at her!”

“I don’t know why you always bring the good half out in me, ___.”

[damnusillygoose]

Series- Fairy tail

Pairing- Jerza

title-Resolve

Summary- with newfound optimism, erza and jellal, resolve the knitted tension in their relationship

fanfiction net- https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13961569/1/Resolve

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34085569

Erza clutched the contents of her purchase closer to her chest as she made a hasty retreat across the boulevard, heading straight towards the residence of a person she wanted to visit. It had started drizzling a while ago and the group of people gallivanting in front her quickly split apart in order to find a shelter to rest. She ran towards the end of the street, nearing her place of destination.

Gasping lightly, she opened the doorknob and set the slightly damp contents near the door. She took off her boots and stepped into the hall.

‘Erza? Is that you?’, she heard a faint voice coming from the kitchen.

She walked past the living room, following the sweet husky that lured her in.

‘Yes, Jellal. Its me.’, brushing down her skirt, she examined her clothes and made a mental note to take a quick shower.

‘Did you find the stuff you were looking for?’, Jellal enquired he stirred the contents of the pot for their dinner.

‘I did. I will store it in my Requip space after it gets dry. It started drizzling on my way back’

‘Really? Do you want a warm towel to dry yourself?’, he left the stove at sim and walked closer to take a good look at her.

‘No, its fine. Can I take a shower though?’

‘Sure. Our dinner will be ready by then.’

She murmured a low thank you and smiled at him flirtatiously before making her way to the bathroom.

It was somewhat cruel, she pondered as the water droplets trail down her body. Fate had a cruel way of keeping them apart from each other. Before it was his self-resolve and now it was her priorities that she had to fulfil. She thought they would finally get some time together after the Aldoron episode but their misadventure to Elentir ended up absorbing their entire time. And before she knew, they had to prepare to leave for the 100 years quest.  

She remembered briefly telling him of her Endeavours that her team undertook to follow unwaveringly. Of course, she wasn’t bound to disclose the details but she felt as if she was tricking him into something he didn’t sign up for. After all, she wasn’t sure when she would return from their 100 years quest. What will she tell him? How long will he wait? When would the mission ultimately end? 2 years? 5? 7? She didn’t know the answer herself.

Her heart started hammering uncontrollably as she recalled the night when he finally took her into warm arms, enveloping her into a hug that she yearned and dreamed for years, whispering in her ears that he was free to love people, which implied that he had forgiven himself and was trying to take a step towards resolving the knitted tension between them. That he was ready to face his feelings for her. That he was ready to show his affection for her openly, unrestrained by any underlying guilt, that he was ready to hold her hand and walk towards the future, their future, together.

Realising how much time she wasted being anxious in her thoughts, she quickly grabbed a towel, and changed into some casual wear. After informing Jellal of her intentions, he decided to invite her for dinner, at the inn he was staying, as a last attempt to spend some time together before her ultimate departure tomorrow.

She made her way to the kitchen where he was busy eviscerating the contents of the pot into their plates.

‘Already done? I wanted to help you.’

‘that’s okay. You’ve got lots of stuff to do tomorrow’, he smiled as he finished pouring their food, laying them in an elegant fashion on the table. She helped him in bringing some cutlery before settling down and digging into their food.

Their dinner was short and they made a quick small talk throughout it. He was talking more animatedly as compared to before, she noted. His features were relaxed, he was no more rigid or talking in a concise manner. They had a habit of bringing missions and current affairs in the magic world , into their conversations; to keep themselves updated with the happenings all around them. From a third persons perspective it would seem as if they only discuss work related matters but in actual reality, Erza realised that she could talk to him about literally anything.

She doesn’t really have to pretend in front of him. That was established a long time ago. They were each other’s saviour. They knew each other more than anyone else did. It amazed her somehow, how well they resonated with each other despite not spending much time like normal couples did.

Couple? Were they one?

The status of their relationship was still obscure but she felt they were getting somewhere. If not smoothly, but slowly and steadily they were progressing towards a definite answer. She felt even more confident after their little-date? Rendezvous? - she could call it a little rendezvous to be on the safe side.

She scurried the last remains of her food before settling her spoon besides her plate. She took the napkin kept before and wiped her mouth gently.

‘Did you like it?’ Jellal asked her curiously, as he slowly reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

‘I did. But it was a little spicy for my taste. But I enjoyed it!’, she responded vividly from her seat to make her intentions clear. She couldn’t help but notice, his display of affections was getting evidently frequent.

They had walked around the town during the day, catching up with each other after they had their little rendezvous, and the entire time they were together, Jellal didn’t let go of her hand even once. It felt nice to walk besides him, holding hands, blushing and chatting spiritedly. He would seldom squeeze her hand and pull her a little closer to whisper something in her ears. Was this for real?

‘Well would you fancy some wine?’, Erza snapped herself out of her daydream upon hearing his question.

‘Yes, of course!’

‘Sweet, let me bring the bottle’

She helped him pick up the dirty utensils. After washing and cleaning the dishes, they settled themselves on the couch in a cosy manner. They brought over the glasses and the bottle and lit up the fire place as the cold fumes had started to invade the room from outside.

‘It sure is getting cold, I wonder if the trains would get delayed if it were to start snowing’, she remarked as she rubbed her palms together.

‘Here’, Jellal handed her a glass of red wine, ‘ It will warm you up’

She accepted the glass and took a sip from it- relishing in that delicacy.

‘Have you ever tried a Gin, Jellal?’, he shook his head, ‘No I haven’t, I did see it on display when I went to buy the wine’.

‘It’s a flavoured vodka made from berries and has a nice citrusy touch to it. Add it to a coke with some lemon and ice cubes and you are good to go.’

‘How about we try it together next time we have meet for dinner or lunch?’

Next time. And when will that be?

Erza heaved a distressing sigh making it awfully palpable to Jellal that something was definitely perturbing her. He kept his glass on the table and gently nudged her.

‘I know something is eating you up. What is it?’, he caressed his fingertips against her cheek.

Erza crossed her legs, and hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes, ‘I can’t help but think how selfish it is of me to suggest you joining fairy tail while I go off on a long mission for gods knows how long. I don’t know when will I return. What will you do till then? You can’t wait for me indefinitely. I don’t know what to think. I feel happy spending time with you but when I think about my pending mission, I feel like I am deceiving you’

‘Alright, you don’t need to hammer yourself down by overthinking this issue excessively’, he swung his arm around her shoulders protectively. Erza sighed before leaning into his embrace naturally, snuzzling her head against his shoulder.

‘Personally, I don’t think you are deceiving me’

‘But I don’t know when will I return!’

‘I know, but you will return someday, right? I don’t know the details of your mission but I am aware that its rather dangerous and long. I…. I don’t mind waiting for you Erza.’

‘What if it takes 10 years for us to complete this mission?’

‘Then I’ll wait 10 years for your return. And no, I don’t think it will take this long to you guys. You are fairy tail’s strongest team after all. And I believe in your ability.’

Feeling some vitality return back to her fingers, Erza gently tugged his free hand, caressing his palm with her thumbs.

‘And it’s not like we would have no contact at all’, he continued to enliven her gloom,’ we have our lacrima phones with which we can talk every day and now with the recent upgradation we can video call each other as well. We just have to development techniques with which we can sustain our contact until you return.’

‘You really are positive about this.’, she looked up and finally smiled, nudging her nose with his cheek. The contact brought shivers down their spines despite the room being adequately warm with the fire lit.

‘I am finally living my life for first time in 29 years, Erza’, he whispered tenderly into her hair, ‘I can’t help not be positive. I have never felt like this before. My brain is gushing with ideas. I had a lot of time to contemplate about myself. There are so many things I want to experience. But first of all, I have to meet up with Meredy and inform her of the proposition you kept before me. I will let you know what our decision will be.’

Erza felt her heart burst with joy when she heard him talking about his future in such an invigorated manner, ‘There is no hurry’.

‘I know but that’s not the only reason I am meeting with her. We detected another suspicious activity near south of Hargeon. We are going to inspect that for a while’.

‘What about the rest of crime sorciere?’

‘A lot of them are busying doing their own stuff. I did inform them about our plan to meet for this mission but it’s their decision to take forth my invitation. I am not going to force my way of life on anyone’

‘I guess everyone has their own version and perception of freedom. Do you miss working with them?’

‘Well, they certainly were a difficult bunch to integrate, initially, but we all corroborated into a small family, I think’, Jellal smiled genuinely as he reminisced their time when they all travelled together in search of their goals and purpose. It did take them some time to get comfortable with each other but when they did, their search for purpose didn’t seem as hopeless as before. They lifted each other in times of despair. They all grew to forgive and love each other.

‘I am so happy for you, Jellal. I am happy to see you so full of life’, Erza lifted her head from his shoulder and took his face in her hands, with tears threatening to fall out, she took a deep breath and kissed his cheek tenderly.

‘Come here’, he could feel his breath quicken as he tugged her legs and urged her to sit on his lap. Erza, hesitant at first, hooked her left thigh over his lap and seated herself comfortably upon them. Her thighs rubbed against his as she noted how strong and muscular, they were.

‘I want to weave a future where I continue to grow as a person, Erza. And I want you beside me. In every step of life, I want to hold your hand and cross every dismay we encounter. And for that, I am willing to wait as long as I have to. So don’t worry about that. I’ll be here when you come back-till then, I will continue to work towards myself and my goal.’

That right there, was the little boy whom she fell in love with in the tower, who dared to challenge life and thrive against every single odd who mocked his resolve. Erza finally let those tears fall and flung her arms around his neck, crying helplessly. Jellal tighten his grip around waist and let his tears fall as well.

‘I love you, Erza. You are the love of my life.’

Erza leaned back to take a good look at his face, which was stained with tears, just like hers. They let out an untimely chuckle, their noses barely touching each other.

‘You are the only man in my heart, Jellal, I love you too’

Their breaths heaved fervently as they neared towards each other. His thumb caressed her cheek that dared to run lower, down to her throat. Their yearning for each other, the desire to hold each other unrestrained, countless nights-days they spent missing and worrying about their beloved’s health- encapsulated itself into a raging storm that invigorated with each breath they took, their sighs synchronised as they closed their eyes and let their lips clash. The entire downpour of emotions came gushing out as if enraptured in a dam. They let their lips meet, then again and then again. The tempestuous storm that reigned supreme came down debilitating into a tranquil walk taken in a warm sunny meadow.

Their arms tightened around each other, refusing to let go. They kissed again, and then again. They emitted a heavy breath and they could swear to God, they didn’t feel this serene before.

‘I love you’, they chanting this phrase for God knows how many times while kissing each other again and again. Resting their foreheads against each other, eyes half-lid from a drug called passion, their lips moved forward for a long and final smooch before going limp each other.

She held him with her arms around his neck, and she held him tight, revitalised with a newfound vivacity and perseverance.

They cuddled in his bed afterwards. He changed into a pair of shorts, shirtless. Erza changed into a pair of shorts and a thin black camisole, not wearing a bra, as she intentionally rubbed herself against his chest, tempting him further.

She flung her left leg over his torso, conquering him successfully. Jellal, flushed red from her actions, held her securely from her waist-kissing her fizzled hair occasionally. He took advantage of his position and didn’t miss an opportunity to play with hair, her hair that he revered so vehemently. He loved her and he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

‘It’s overwhelming’

‘What?’, she asked.

‘My feelings for you. I think they will break free and flood the entire town I am afraid. Am I making sense?’ Erza let out a snort as she nuzzled into his neck. Trailing her tongue from his ear to his pulse, she moistened that spot before sucking it and enticing a moan out of his throat.

‘I want to melt into you. Do I make sense?’, she pecked his cheek, awaiting a response from him.

‘You do’-he gasped for air- ‘and you don’t but ignoring the hyperbole, I know exactly what you are talking about. Because I feel the same’. He gave her a cheeky grin and claimed her lips in a passionate smooch. He pulled her on top of him and ran his hands up from her waist, under her camisole, touching every inch of her back, not missing a single spot, reaching the spot where he thought he would find her bra strap-only to find none. That confirmed his doubts when he felt her soft breasts press against him. She leaned down and captured his lips in another enamouring kiss.

‘Erza.’

‘hmm?’

‘Are we a thing now?’

‘a thing?’

‘I mean what is the status of our relationship? It’s kind of vague. Are we dating?’, Jellal put forth courageously, embattled with his own heartbeat drumming against this chest.

She bit her lip nervously and hid her face in his neck timidly, ‘Maybe, I guess.’

Jellal grabbed her waist and aroused from his laying position into a sitting one, taking support of the headrest behind him, he leaned back and took her face in his hands.

‘Erza’

She met his eyes and blushed, ‘Yes’

‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

Her face broke into a huge smile, the most charming smile he ever witnessed in his lifetime.

‘Yes!’, she squealed, brightly, and enraptured his lips into another alluring kiss that he seemed keen on returning.

‘I am going to miss you. I am going to miss you a lot Erza.’

‘Have you packed everything?’, Jellal asked her pensively, going through a list of necessities that she might need on her rough travels.

‘Yes’

‘The package from yesterday evening?’

‘Yes, everything is done’, Erza answered as she bends down to tie her boots.’ When do you leave for Hargeon?’

‘My train is at 5. I still have time to pack. I don’t have much stuff anyways’

‘I see. Keep me updated with the towns you visit.’

‘I will. You keep me updated with your travels as well.’

‘Of course. So, call me whenever to get time. If I don’t pick up, leave a message. And before I forget, keep sending me pictures of yourself!’, Erza chuckled as he kissed her forehead lovingly.

‘I will, my love. Only if you promise to send me pictures of yourself, maybe a little sexy if you have a chance’, he whispered the last part slowly sending shivers down her spine.

She snorted mischievously and shook her head.

‘I love you’, she declared sincerely.

‘I love you too. Take care of yourself.’ He took her face in his hands, cherishing the feel of her skin against his, and pulling her in for a final kiss. Long and imbued of love they harboured for each other.

[whattodowithkpop]

Blind Senses (Ravn)

Title: Blind Senses

Pairing: Reader x Ravn (Oneus)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, Superhero AU, Enemies to lovers, Soulmate AU

Word count: 2,543

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

*****

There is a lie that every parent tells their child, we hear it when we get scared at night. We are reminded of it over and over again. 'Monsters don't exist' Monsters aren't under your bed, they aren't in the closet, they aren't trying to get in your window. The doors are locked, the window is sealed shut, everything is fine.

The only thing I was worried about when I was little was who my match was; Every child is born with a soul mark, it's the tell of where your soulmate will touch you for the very first time. But when you are touched by your soulmate, the birthmark will turn a bright shade of pink and purple before withering away. Your soulmate having been found.

My birthmark encases my right wrist, a common place for people to have their soul mark. I often forgot about my mark until I looked down and saw my one marked wrist. But every now and again a flutter would slice through my stomach at the thought that one day, that mark would be gone. And I would have found my other half.

When I was 15, my childish dreams changed forever. A science plant exploded suddenly. An experiment gone wrong. There was an orange smoke that rose from the ashes of the building, its angry smoke rushing toward our city. I still remember seeing it outside my bedroom window a second before my mother rushed in with my father and hurried us down to our basement. My father boarding up the windows and doors to block the smoke out. Screaming could be heard outside, ones of fear and agony for those who didn't get inside in time.

In the wake of that science experiment, we were left with mutants. People caught in the smoke developed supernatural powers. Some of these people developed a spiked aggression, using their powers for the worst. That is how my father died. He and a group of scientists were working on a cure for the genetic mutations. But some didn't like that. A group of mutants set up a bomb in the basement of the plant, angry that someone wanted to take their power away. Take away their sense of control.

I still remember being home with my mother when we saw the black cloud with angry flames fill the sky. The earth shaking slightly in its wake. Dread and grief filling us, knowing exactly where the explosion came from. On that day, my life, my goals, and how I viewed people with these special powers, changed.

`````

Alarms ring through the large building, the sound jarring and disorienting. I stand my ground at my station and continue working quickly. I enter a series of commands into my laptop. My fingers shaking violently.

Red lights flash and the sound of people running down the halls fills the small room. I take my lab coat off, the room sweltering. The screen on my laptop shows a loading bar, making me tap my foot impatiently. I was so close to finishing this, it would change how we see mutants. It reversed their DNA to go back to normal, their powers vanishing. The work my father started would finally be complete and I would have a sense of closure.

The lights and alarm cut out, leaving me in blackness except for the screen of my laptop. I suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I was putting my life at risk for the sake of this experiment, but I had come too far to stop now. Eventually, blue lights come on, slightly illuminating the room. When they do, the loading bar on the screen is almost done, my muscles tense. Then the laptop suddenly gets slammed shut, making me jump back.

"Did I interrupt something?" A deep voice asks coldly, his palm firmly on the laptop to keep it shut.

"That's government property." I say firmly, but my voice cracks.

The man smirks at me, seeming amused by my weak attempt at a threat. Like me saying it was something the government owned would make him remove his hand from it and leave in fear.

"Yes, well, you and your government should really stop trying to cure something that doesn't need a cure." He glowers.

"And maybe we wouldn't have to look for a cure if you people weren't destroying families and killing the innocent." I shoot back, anger rising in my chest and filling my veins. My thoughts going to my father.

The man hesitates, his eyes showing a sort of concern and sympathy for my words. I take my chance and make a dive for the laptop, trying to jerk it out from under his strong hand. The man grabs my right wrist, stopping me.

"Do not try it." He snarls, his grip on my wrist horribly tight.

He slowly removes his hand from my wrist, my eyes widening and a gasp escaping my lips when I see my wrist. My soulmate mark shined a bright purple, matching the mark on his hand, then both marks slowly began to fade. Our soulmate marks disappearing. We had found our soulmates.

I stare at the man in front of me, both our eyes wide in disbelief. We were on opposite sides of a war, yet we were meant to be together. Suddenly, everything goes black. At first, I think the lights in the room have gone out. But it's my vision that disappears. I fall to the floor, my legs unable to support me. Panic grips me. I've gone blind.

"Don't worry." The man says soothingly. "I only took your sight away temporarily. Your vision will return in 10 minutes, that's just long enough time for me and my team to escape."

I take several deep breaths, trying to soothe my heart that pounded in my ribs. I spread my fingers out along the cold tile floor, trying to feel for something, anything. That's why I jump when I feel warm hands incase both my hands, making me cower away from the touch. But the grip holds firm.

"I hope we meet again." The man says. His tone sounding like he really meant that. "Maybe then it will be under better circumstances, soulmate."

He squeezes my hands before letting me go, his footsteps fading into the distance. Leaving me to recover my sight slowly, with a swirling heart and mind. I thought he had left, then I hear his voice again.

"By the way, just because I think we should know this for the future, my name is Ravn."

````

3 Years Later;

"No, we have to finish this." I demand as I follow my co-worker around the lab. The earth shaking beneath us, making everyone scurry around the room. Anxiety levels high.

"Well then you finish it then." My co-worker snaps irritably. "We don't want to die here. Unlike you and your obsession with finding this dream cure."

"It's more than that." I plead. Pushing my way through people pushing passed me in panic. The earth giving off another tremble while bright flashes of red light flash outside. Heavy rain pounding against the building like fists.

"You say that and he always comes for you." My co-worker says, whirling around to face me. His eyes raging.

I pause, my brain looking for an excuse. Any excuse. Ravn had come for me and the sought after cure for three years. No matter what I did, no matter how much I tried to hide, he always found me. His devilish smirk always reappearing.

"We're so close though." I say quietly. More of a reminder to myself than to anyone else in the room. Not that they ever listened to me. The population had given up on trying to find a cure a long time ago.

My co-worker sighs, rubbing his temples. "I know this experiment is the only thing of your father you have of him." He says, his tone softened. "But they won't stop chasing you and trying to tear you down. And they are outside as we speak."

I look over my shoulder to the large glass window behind me. Flashes of light and tremors in the earth reminding us that these weren't from natural sources. But from people. People who could control the weather and even create earthquakes to topple a building in seconds. And their leader, my soulmate, just waiting for them to break through our defenses.

"We're evacuating." My co-worker says, pulling my attention back towards him. "Come with us if you want. Otherwise, you can stay and talk to your boyfriend."

I feel a surge of heat course through me, flushing my cheeks a scarlet color. I couldn't find my voice in time to deny that he wasn't my boyfriend before my co-worker hurries off with the rest of my, supposed to be, teammates. At this point in my journey, I was used to working alone and everyone thinking I was crazy for trying to fix something that everyone else had just adjusted to and given up trying to control.

I set my jaw in determination and whirl back to my station, opening my laptop and entering the code. I watched the clock carefully as I worked. The world around me seemed to fall away as I worked, being used to Ravn coming for me to stop me from developing a cure. Our relationship having grown in a strange way. We were soulmates, but we were also enemies.

The lights in the building flicker off, just like they had three years prior when I first met Ravn. My heartbeat picks up but I keep working, knowing I still had a few valuable minutes before he showed up. My laptop gives out a series of beeps, making me step back in surprise. I stare at the screen in shock.

"I did it." I whisper under my breath, a smile spreading across my face. I found the cure to return the mutants back to their normal DNA.

"We really have to stop meeting like this." A familiar deep voice says behind me.

I whirl around and press my back against the counter's edge, trying to hide my laptop screen from his sharp eyes. Ravn stood a few feet away from me, his dark hair dripping wet from the rain. His black trench coat leaving pools of water around his boots.

"You say that, but you seem to enjoy chasing me." I reply, trying to keep my tone even. I slowly reach my hands behind my back to find the USB with the cure downloaded on it, pressing it firmly against my palm for safety.

Ravn's eyes flicker to my hands that were behind my back, his eyes taking on a cautious look. "You just can't give up on that cure, can you?"

"Someone has to keep trying."

Ravn chuckles, stepping closer to me. Making my muscles tense. "Give me the USB, sweetheart." He says dryly, extending his palm towards me.

I stare at him, how could he know?

"I'm not stupid." Ravn says, as if reading my thoughts. "I know you found the cure. Please, give it to me."

"Why is it so bad that you could all go back to your normal lives?" I ask, my voice pleading as I slide my way down the counter as Ravn comes closer.

"Because some of us have nothing to return to." Ravn answers calmly. "You would be taking away the one thing people feel they can control since they inherited their powers."

"You don't use your powers for anything good though." I argue.

"That's not true and you know it." Ravn replies. "We aren't all like that. Even if you gave the cure to some of us there would be others who would refuse to take it and would continue to wreak havoc. You take away the good people with powers you're left with the bad and you won't be able to defeat them."

I pause, that thought never having occurred to me since I took over my fathers work. The population of people with special powers had grown. 40% of the worlds population had citizens with some kind of power these past three years.

"The cure." Ravn says again, extending his hand out to me once again.

I stare at his hand, the hand that once held his soulmate mark, just like my wrist once did. Despite all he said, I still held onto the USB tighter and turned and ran from him. I knew how stupid of a move it was, it was pointless when Ravn could strip away human senses. But I still ran, and I almost got to the door when my vision disappeared, immersing me in blackness. Making me fall to my knees, the USB still clutched in my hand.

I feel Ravn's hands encase my waist, picking me up off the tile floor and taking me to the closest counter to let me lean against it. My vision a milky white.

"You know running from me does no good." His voice sounding as if he were a bit hurt by my actions.

"This cure is all I have." I choke out, still clutching the USB in my palm. My hands trembling.

Ravn seems to freeze, his breath fanning across my cheeks that were starting to streak with tears. "This cure is all I've known since my fathers death." I gush, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. My mother having completely shut down since my fathers death. Her attitude cold and isolated from me.

"It's all I have."

Ravn touches my eyes, wiping the tears away but also giving me my vision back. I'm alarmed by how close he stands to me, our eyes locked. His brown eyes hold a sadness to them I had never seen before. A sort of sympathy that had faded from people's eyes long ago when it came to me.

"It's not all you have." He whispers. "It never has been."

I stare up at him, words freezing in my throat. Before I can form a response, his lips press against mine. His hands cupping my face. I suck in a breath in shock, but soon my eyes close and my arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer to me. A sense of completeness washing over me.

Ravn slides his hands down to my ribs, picking my up and setting me on the counter. His body between my legs, his hands going to my thighs as he grips them firmly. I feel my fingers uncurl their grip on the USB, it clatters to the floor. My fingers weaving through Ravn's hair instead. His lips tugging at mine in a sort of desperation, both of us craving each other after being deprived for years.

The cure fades into an obsession that melts into my past, something I had chased thinking it was all I had. When my life had the chance to start over with Ravn and actually do something to help others. He had known something all this time that I never had. We were on the same side, I just wasn't willing to accept it. My senses blinded. And it took him to uncover them.

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 33: Remus

All chapters 

Chapter 32

I had been letting myself sleep in as long as possible not only for the rest, but to help pass the time. I usually woke up around ten sometimes eleven depending on how late I had stayed up, but today my brain had other plans. I wake awake bright and early at five o'clock. I had only just gone to bed four hours ago so I figured I would be sleeping till noon, but unfortunately I was woken up by a dream. Most would call it a dream, but I called it a nightmare. 

Because it was  a dream about me being married with kids, except I was married to Severus, not that I hate the idea, I just didn't need to be reminded of how that's never gonna happen. And of course my body loves to do this thing where once I'm awake, I can't go back to sleep. So I decided to just get up now and start my day early. I took my time showering, I even did a hair and a face mask, shaved, and styled my hair without magic, just to pass the time. I took my time figuring out what to wear and I even did eye shadow with my makeup. I brushed out my shirt adding a belt to my waist and looked out the window. The sun had started to rise and peak over the forest line. I looked at the clock and dropped my shoulders when I saw it was only six. "You have got to be kidding me, no way I did all of that in an hour." I said to myself. I was glad all my roommates went home for break, this allowed me some freedom to talk to myself and walk around in my underwear. I grabbed my coat, wand, and Lolita and headed out to walk around. I didn't really have a plan on where I was going to go, but i'd figure it out as I went.

I exited my dormitory and walked into the common room, I hadn't seen many Slytherins that stayed but every now and then we would cross paths in here. I walked out and down the hall not seeing anyone in the halls. It was kind of eerie being awake while the sun was just starting to rise, the school was so empty and quiet. I looked out a window as I passed by and saw the sunrise glistening over the lake, light hitting the water and the surrounding snow. I smiled at the sight and made my way outside. The snow crunched under my boots as I walked over to a bench that sat along the pathway. I sat down on it looking at the lake that was sparkling from the sun's reflection. A cloud of air could be seen every time I breathed out and I could feel my nose getting red. I really loved when it was cold out and there was snow on the ground, I wouldn't have come out here if it was snowing though that would mean it was too cold to come and read. And I could feel the warmth of the sun slowly stretching across my face and hands, spreading warmth on my cheeks. It was so beautiful I couldn't believe I went to school here. I barely even thought of Beauxbatons anymore. I smiled and opened up my book, unfolding the corner as I began to read.

About thirty minutes later I lifted my head from the book, hearing a noise, I looked to my left and saw the noise was the crunching of the snow under the new professor's feet. "Hello." I said smiling as he walked over, hands in his pockets, "Hello Y/n what are you doing out here this early?" he smiled looking out at the lake. "I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep so I came out here to read." I said scooching over so he could sit next to me. He smiled and sat down on the bench. "What about you?" I asked as I looked back to my book. "Oh just an early morning walk. I also could not sleep." I nodded and folded the corner of my page closing my book, "What are you reading?" he asked motioning to my book, I felt my cheeks redden a bit and looked at him and then back at my book. "Um this book called Lolita." I said smiling awkwardly. He hummed in response nodding his head with a smile. "Have you read it?" I asked, nervous of his response, I don't know why I was freaking out I mean there are so many books Im sure no one has actually read this, and even if they have its not like I support every decision made in it, but it is a bit awkward.  "No, I've just heard  of it." he smiled. We sat for a moment in silence, "So I hear you're a werewolf." I said chuckling lightly at the silly statement I made. He tensed up and bit and looked down at me, "And what leads you to think that." he asked in a bit more of a serious tone, but with a small smile. "Oh nothing just rumours, i'm only teasing." I said playfully, resting a hand on his arm in reassurance, he laughed along shifting in his spot. "Unless you are one, if that's the case then you are indeed way cooler than the last teacher." I joked, he reddened in the face a bit and smiled, "I can assure you I do not grow a tail." he assured me, laughing along. We sat and got to know each other more, he was a really sweet man and I could easily see myself being friends with him. We oddly had a lot in common too, we liked the same artists and movies, he even mentioned how he himself was not too potion savvy. We joked about many failed experiences in the subject.

"So If you went to school here, does that mean you went here with Severus? I mean Professor Snape." I said, shaking my head correcting myself. He sat up straight for a moment and looked out at the lake, he sighed and nodded his head. "Yes I did actually, we were in the same grade." he said, his face softening and his smile slowly fading a bit. I noticed the change in posture and tone and looked at him confused.  "Well what was he like? Was he mean like he is now? Did he bully you?" I asked trying to figure out why his energy shifted. He took a moment and cleared his throat. "No, not exactly." I kept my gaze on him, examining his facial expressions. "Did you guys fight or something?" I pried. "Yes you could say that, I had a group of friends, and two of us Sirius and James liked to pick on him often, I would try to convince them to leave Severus alone, but they'd never listen." he said leaning over and resting his elbow on his knees. Taken aback I looked away from him and to the lake. "That's horrible, what would they do to him?" I asked curiously. He took a moment pondering on what to say, "They would pick on him for being in Slytherin and would call him names and such." he confessed. I frowned and looked down at my hands. "Oh." I said quietly. "But Severus was a loner and he wasn't perfect either, but it's really not my place. James never really gave him a chance though, he bullied him from the start and would do it for fun and out of boredom sometimes." he added. I nodded and looked around at the snowy landscape thinking about it.

This would make a lot of sense as to why Severus was so cruel, he clearly had a hard life. It hurt my heart to think about him just trying to go about his day and some obnoxious boys decide to hurt him. I could almost cry at the thought and blinked hard to try and erase the thoughts from my mind. "But what did Snape ever do to them?" I asked, already predicting the answer. "Nothing. He was just a wallflower, associated himself with the dark arts and the wrong people and James saw him as an easy target." he admitted looking down at his feet. "Did they ever apologize? Or befriend him?" I also already knew this answer, "No, James died and Sirius was locked up." he said sadly, I rested a hand on his leg and smiled, "I'm sorry, even though they were bullies, I'm sure they were good friends of yours." I said kindly, "Thank you, they were, but i'm not sure if they would have even attempted to make amends, nor do I think Severus would have any interest in doing so either."  he said honestly, "Is Sirius still in Azkaban?" I asked, hoping I wasn't overstepping, I noticed a shift in his eyes when I mentioned the man's name. "No he got out a few years ago and is living in London." he said smiling. I could see a look in his eyes, I searched the blue spheres and tried to identify the look, "Does he have a family?" I asked trying to talk about him more, "No not really. I'm kind of all he's got left." his eyes flashed with a bit of sadness but stayed sparkling on the thought of the man, I smiled to myself when I realized why I recognized the look in his eyes. It was because it was the very same look I had when thinking about Severus. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make him uncomfortable so I just nodded in response.

I looked at his hand and noticed he didn't have a ring on his finger and looked up at him trying to figure out why he wasn't married. He was so nice and funny and handsome something didn't add up. "Why aren't you married? I mean a handsome man such as yourself you would think would have a partner and kids and stuff." I questioned cautiously, trying not to overstep. He laughed and blushed a bit, sitting up and leaning back on the bench, "I'm not sure, I just haven't met the right person I suppose." I nodded in agreement and just then I spotted a few students walking around inside. "I guess everyone's waking up, breakfast will start soon, wanna walk with me?" I asked politely, standing up and grabbing my book. He nodded and stood up as well, following beside me as we walked back inside the warm building and headed to the great hall. "So why are you here now? Why didn't you come when everyone else comes back from break?" I asked as we walked through the halls. "I guess I just wanted to get my room in order and hang out a bit in the school, it's a very nostalgic feeling, being back." he shared as we walked into the Great hall. We stopped at the staff table to finish up our conversation, I looked up behind him and noticed a dark professor glaring down at us, I furrowed my brows slightly, wondering why he would be so upset about this, but then I remembered what Remus had said, and although Remus maybe didn't participate he was still a bystander, and i'm sure Severus still held that against him, I smiled a little to myself thinking about how I could use this to my advantage. "Okay well I will catch you later at the firework show, it was lovely getting to know you and talk." I said smiling up at Remus, I kindly rested a hand on his arm and looked over to the now tense and fuming Severus, I could practically almost see the steam coming off of him, to anyone else he would look normal, but I could see it in his eyes, and his place fist he had clenched. I didn't understand why he was getting so angry with me fraternizing with Remus, he said so himself he didn't care about me that way.

When I looked back at Remus as he said his goodbye I could have sworn I felt a tug in my mind, a very familiar tug, like someone trying to pry their way in. Remus walked away and up to his seat, which was thankfully far from Severus, and I shot Snape a glare, I knew he was the only one that would be remotely interested in my thoughts and the look in his eyes only confirmed my suspicions. Two can play at this game I thought to myself as I slowly went and sat down where Luna and I had sat yesterday. I wasn't as good as him obviously and had just barely learned how to read thoughts without my wand. But I stared him down trying to get into his mind, it wasn't about reading his thoughts, it was more about making him aware he got sloppy and wasn't undetected in his attempt to read mine, I just needed to ensure he felt it. Which he confirmed when his eyes went from anger to hostility and then back to anger. I stopped my attempts and he glowered at me, I smiled and waved sarcastically and turned to the blonde girl that approached me and sat down. "Having a staring contest with Professor Snape or something?" she said, teasing me a bit. "What? No. I was just waving to the new teacher, I haven't got a clue why Snapes glaring over at me." I lied, which I felt bad doing, but Hermione and Draco were the only ones that knew of my feelings for Snape and I planned on keeping it that way.

Taglist; @lovelyhoneylemon @juliijah

[therewasatale]

broken wings

On Ao3.

Lightning zigzagged through the sky and it was closely followed by the sound of thunder. The battle of forces was so loud it could have been heard in heaven, despite the fact it was closed. The rain and the sharp wind find its way into every nook and canny, the storm hit anything that got in its way. It rampaged, it was as if someone had wanted to vent all his anger on the world

You got booted out from your dream by the persistent dance of a throbbing headache inside your skull. Even before you were fully awake you had a suspicion that it was raining. Somehow your migraines and thunderstorms went hand in hand.

"Son of a…" you reached out to your bedside table and gave out an annoyed moan as you raised the empty plastic bottle in front of you. "Agh, god fucking ..."

You started massaging your temple and forehead with slow circular motions. It helped to at least be able to sit up in the times to come.

Another groan filled your room as the screen of your cell phone lit up. The light flashed into your brain like a knife and you needed some time to adjust to read the exact time.

03:04.

When you felt you would be able to stay on your feet for a while you stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen squinting.

Dean and Sam presumably slept like logs. You hoped Kevin had also knocked himself out in the hard work of translation and was sleeping on the table either in his room or in the foyer. So only the chained Crowley remained awake, whom you had no desire to visit, especially since he began to act strangely.

And of course, there was Gadreel, the angel who barely spoke and whom you have to talk into getting out from Sam's body. The angel who, for some reason, was terrified of sharing his name, even though he was much stronger supernatural being than even a demon. It got out three day ago when Sam let him go after he got finally healed. Since then, the angel spent most of his time in the room they assigned to him, reading. During this time, your opinion of angels has changed a lot.

You snorted softly, massaging your nostrils. God damned lies, and asshole angels…or at least most of them.

"Not now..." You tried to order your thoughts to get them to calm down. You didn’t want to dwell too much on the past while the present was just as messy. More and more it looked like the biggest threat to angels, were each other.

Bloody idjits.

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen and sipped it slowly as you squinted to read the weather report. The thunderstorm is likely to be heading south tomorrow around tomorrow noon, but for the time being it will tirelessly besiege the area. You could have sworn for a moment that you can clearly hear the thunder from outside. Closing your eyes, you imagined the deep rumbling of the sky, and chill ran down your hand.

You had to hunt in the rain more than once, with your siblings or even alone. The night was one thing, even in complete darkness with the right tricks you could keep ahead of the monsters. But rain threw all the rules out of the window. The wind could change at any moment, the raindrops lowered visibility, and the thunder was a great disguise if someone tried to approach you silently. You loved and hated the rain.

Making your way back you noticed a muffled sniffing from behind one of the doors. Looking around, you soon had to realize that you were standing in front of Gadreel's room. You stared at the door for a few moments and then tried to continue on, but the soft sound of crying stopped you again.

Three days, he didn't talk much during that, but somehow you were sure something bad had happened to him. Something utterly terrible, something. they did to him in heaven. The thought made your hand involuntarily clench into a fist.

Sam and Dean may have been tiring and sometimes inhumanely hardheaded, but you could always count on them. Even when you had that falling out with your father and left them, not long before his death. Even after all the shit regarding the apocalypse, you watched each-others back after. They were your brothers and you all loved each other.

You had to fight the urge to throw up, when angels were pretending that they are brothers and sister, yet they constantly hurt each other. You could not help but despise those who do something so unforgivable and still called themselves your family. But of course, you also knew that blood relation, or just the creation itself, doesn’t mean much if there are dickheads in the family.

You softly knocked on the door.

"Gadreel?"

He either didn’t hear it or didn’t want to hear it. You knocked again, and even though you weren’t really motivated to disturb an angel's solitude, yet your instincts told you it was the right idea.

When you opened the door, your words got strangled on the way out of your throat.

There should have been complete darkness inside, but an angel curled up in the corner lit up the room. The faint light was given off by his remaining feathers, which were still able to somehow cling to his broken wings. Someone must have broken them, probably multiple times and the injuries weren’t cared for properly.

Even standing in the doorway, you could make out the deep cuts, you were sure they were made by angel blades. Yet the worst to see were his feathers, they were torn and ruffled pointing all direction.

"Gadreel?" you swallowed stepping inside.

The angel shuddered, huddling up even more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

You saw dozens of torn out feathers in his hands. As you walked closer you had to avoid handfuls of feathers lying on the ground, by now they were devoid of light.

"Heavens, Gadreel," you knelt beside him. "Hey, angel wake up ..."

Gadreel trembled and jolted awake from his sleep. His eyes glowed in a greyish colour as he pulled away from you in horror.

"Hey, hey, it's all right" you raised your hands slowly "it's all right, I don't want to hurt you."

"I…" He took a few deep breaths and gripped the feathers in his hand. You could see the glow fading from eyes as he slowly noticed them. "I-" his voice broke, and tears began to stream down his face. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

"Hey, hey it's okay, hey-" you tried to divert your attention as you moved closer very slowly. "A bad dream." Reaching out, you touched his hand and sighed softly as he shivered but didn't move.

"It's okay," you caressed his hand. Your thoughts came and gone with speed, but somehow, they all came back to you wanting to calm down the angel in some way. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with closed eyes and his wings lowered. He looked like he was waiting for punishment.

"It's okay," you stroked his arm as you sat next to him, taking care of his wings. You only caressed his arms for minutes, listening to his labored breathing. "It's okay, you're safe here."

His body relaxed, but very slowly. He first lowered his shoulders and then opening her clenched hands, let the feathers fall into his lap. He sniffed a bit from time to time and, with a tiny nod, accepted the handkerchief you handed him.

When he looked at you, you saw that in his eyes, though very faintly, the glow of his grace was still visible.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

After a few moments, he shook his head.

"Okay, then just take your time, I'll stay here with you." You glanced towards the wings that were still visible.

"They're repulsive, aren't they?" The tone of his voice resonated painfully inside your soul. One of the feathers hanging alone at an point on his wings, trembled slightly.

"What? No its ..."

"Wounded and ugly," he took a deep breath and squeezed the sentence bitterly. "Just like they should be."

"No, no, that's not true." You answered seriously as you looked into his eyes. "Listen, I don't know what happened to you upstairs, I don't even know why they did this to you. But you were the first to show up to help my brother, without any ulterior motives, so you're one of those angels I still consider good." You took his hand in yours. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but nobody... no one deserves that-"

"It's my fault, the whole thing…" Interrupted the angel" ..everything that’s happening. That the angels are down here, and the fact that demons exist."

The words just started to pour out of him. He was babbling, jumping from topic to topic, but you still managed to make out the most important bits. You were able to figure out what happened, and why he was locked up

"It's all my fault," he covered himself with his broken wings. "It's all happening because of me!"

Is it…really?

You watched him quietly, then leaned closer and gave him a small kiss on his wing. A feather tickled your face which elicited a sad little smile from you.

There was a shocked silence in the room.

"...(Y/N))?"

"It's a bit early and we will have a long talk about this, but it's not all your fault."

"But...because I..."

"You made a mistake, yes," you replied calmly as you carefully caressed those spots on hos wings where the injuries were not too recent. "But we all make mistakes, even angels, even gods damned archangels."

Gadreel was watching you quietly, and you were already grateful just for that.

"Lucifer did quite a bit of shit and yet God made sure that he could be freed. And then on top of that, he was in quiet a good shape that fuckin' bastard. You made a mistake that your father could have fixed with a snap... just a single mistake, you're not responsible for everything." You looked at him.

"Our adopted father always said that if we can't catch a monster, at least not for the first time, what that monster does or would do until we get him, well, its not our fault. We have to take care of ourselves, so we can save more people…And as I understood right, Lucifer bothered you quiet a bit. He''s an asshole, and the one who did this to you too. "

"But well, I-"

"No, you didn't deserve anything close to that, nobody would deserve this," you reached out and caressed his head.

He gave out an embarrassed sigh as his wings slowly became invisible behind him.

"I just..."

"I know it's really hard, but if, for no other reason, remember that we need your help, so don’t hurt yourself. You're an angel who have the power to do a lot of good, don't throw this away from you, Gadreel."

He lowered his eyes and nodded with a sigh.

"I'll try."

"Wonderful," you picked up a blanket from the nearby bed and sat back next to it, wrapping yourself up. "And now sleep."

"But I don't need-"

"I do, but I'm not going anywhere so I can make sure you don't hurt yourself," you muttered, eyes already closing, "lovely angel." You didn’t even notice when your headache disappeared, and when exhaustion took its place. It weighed heavily on every part of your body "It's okay… you didn't do anything wrong… just rest a little…"

"Well ..." Gadreel scratched his head and froze a little as you leaned against him, already. He sat motionless for the rest of the evening to not disturb your sleep. He wanted to make sure you have a good rest, though he wasn’t sure exactly why yet.

[random-imagines-blog]

Big Eyes {Harley Quinn x Female Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2313 Summary: You get two unexpected visitors to your bakery. One is welcomed, while the other - not so much.

‘Always expect the unexpected,’ is something that your father had told you while you were growing up. He always thought that perhaps you were a bit too naive, too trusting in the good in people that they could blow up a bank in front of you and you would still bring up how they once brought someone flowers. That being said, you hadn’t expected his death when a gunman robbed the bakery that he owned, and he had tried to fight back. And though you had worked in the bakery since you were a teenager, starting off as a cashier and then finally getting to the bake and going elbow deep in pastry dough like you dreamed, you hadn’t expected that he would leave the entire business to you. Now, seven years later, you were still trying to do what he had said, expect the unexpected from people, without letting your friendly nature take a hit. But who, in any state of mind, could ever anticipate Harley Quinn?

You were bringing out a new tray of goodies right before the lunchtime crowd came in. You always felt like such an adult when you were in the front of shop, unlike the back, where you felt like a child in a candy store. Between all of the sugar, the sweets, the fillings, the chocolate - you sort of were a kid in a candy store. You were putting the cinnamon and pecan rolls into their places in the display when in came a woman, who looked as if she had just come in from a night out. Despite the make up that was smudged around her eyes and the rather outlandish outfit, she had so much energy, it even perked you up. You tapped the woman behind the counter with a grin. “I’ll take this one, hun,” You said. Surely a woman who looked like this much fun couldn’t be all bad!

“What can I get for you, Miss Fashionista?” You asked with a wide smile. She looked just as excited at the nickname as she did looking at everything that was behind the glass. She shimmyed over, the colors on her outfit shining in the light, and her pigtails bouncing.

“Everythin’ that has sugah, please!” She said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“My kinda woman,” You said, looking over what you had left. “One of everything then - that might set you back a bit.”

“Oh, I got it covered,” She said, blowing a bubble with gum you didn’t realize that she had. Out of seeminly nowhere, she pulled out a bag that had an actual dollar symbol drawn on it with black marker. “Ya take coins?”

“We can always use the change,” You said, never saying no to a paying customer. Usually the only ones who brought in change were old ladies, and you usually only took half of it, paying for the other half of their goods instead and not letting them know that. You might just do that with a few of this lady’s items. You really liked her energy, and the way that she presented herself. She pulled off a look that you could only dream of.

There was a ring from the door as another customer walked inside. “I’ll be with you in just a moment,” You said, cheerfully, helping this woman count out the change as your other employee started to put together the order. There was a groan from the newcomer, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I think another dollar should cover it,” You said, searching through the pile of coins for another couple of quarters. You found them, and opened up the till to put the change inside when there was an interruption.

“Fuckin’ finally! Put your hands up, all three of yas. This is a robbery!”

Memories of your father getting hurt ran through your mind, initiating a panic attack that you didn’t know how to deal with. You did put your hands up, dropping a lot of the change in the process. It clattered around you, and sounded just as loud as gunshots.

Your mind ran back to that day as you started to do what the robber asked of you. Opening the till. Counting out the money. Putting it on the counter - but it was pushed away by the bubbly blonde who had come in, getting one of everything. “Put that back in ya till, this man is gettin’ nothing’.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t be robbing a store if he didn’t need it,” You said, trying to force a smile on your face to defuse the situation. You were fighting back flashbacks of your father, and you could feel the tears and fear fill your eyes. “Would you, mister?”

“Shut up!” The man said, thrusting the barrel of the gun into your face, making you wince.

“Hey, don’t be so rude to the lady,” The woman said, nudging the robber enough for him to stumble to the side. “This here is the best bakery in Gotham. Don’t ruin this for me, I’m warnin’ ya.”

“Pick up the money,” The man said, his hand slightly shaking as he gained his footing. “You have ten seconds to hand it over or I’m shooting your brains out.”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” The blonde said, showing more annoyance now. “And now you’ve just pissed me off too.”

“And who are you, blondie?” The robber mocked, his attention away from you as you slowly picked up the money from the edge of the counter to slide it over. You had your eyes away from the woman for just a second, that’s all it felt like, and yet it was time enough for her to pick up one of the chairs in your establishment, and hit the man in the head with it.

“I’m Harley freakin’ Quinn,” She said with a wide smile, kicking the stunned man in the chest so he crumpled down. “And nobody robs my favorite bakery.” She then did a second kick, this one lower, getting the gun out of his hand and sending it across the bakery where it couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.  

“Did he really deserve the kick to the chest?” You asked, wondering if perhaps it was a bit ... overkill. “The chair was a bit much too. It’s really good wood, see, it’s not even broken-”

“You were just gettin’ robbed and you’re worried about a chair?” Harley asked. “You some kind of Hufflepuff or something?”

“According to Pottermore, yes,” You said, leaning over the counter to look at the gunman. He still looked stunned, and was staying on the ground. It probably didn’t help that Harley had a healed boot on his chest, standing like a proud hunter. “Slytherin?”

“You betcha!” Harley said, sounding excited. She saw the way that you were looking down at the gunman and shrugged. “Don’t worry about this bozo. He’s small time. Probably didn’t have any bullets in that thing anyway. Oh shit, did we end up losing count of those coins?”

You looked down around you feet, seeing the scattered coinage that you indeed had lost count of, though you were sure she had enough for everything in the first place. “I think after what you just did, you get everything free of charge. It may take me a while to pick up all of these coins, though.”

“Keep them!” Harley said, hopping over the counter and saw the mess. “They were a bitch to carry around anyway. Oh - you sell donuts here too? I didn’t even see those.”

“Oh, yes, we have a few different kinds. I figured that they were part of your order since you got one of everything,” You said, growing distracted by the man that was on the ground. “Should we call the police, or an ambulance?”

“For this guy?” Harley asked, sticking her thumb down at him. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ll just drag him out to the curb on the way out,” The man retorted to this with a groan. You winced at the sound. This girl must have hit him pretty hard - but you had to admire the way that she stood up for you. She could have just stepped back and let it all happen. It’s not as if the gunman had pointed his weapon at her first.

And then you realized who the man had named. Harley Quinn. The woman who was sort of a villain, sure, but you heard that she had a good heart. Helping women in need, even if that meant beating up some blokes with a bat. You weren’t sure about the violence part, like in this situation, but you couldn’t argue with results.

“Well thank you, Miss Harley Quinn,” You said, fetching the food that she had ordered, and definitely deserved. It took five bags to fit everything, and you meant the ones that were meant for carrying out cakes carriers. You even had to call your startled assistant out to help you fit everything in.

“Thanks y/n!” Harley said, clapping her hands together and reached out for the goods. She somehow managed to hold all of the bags, though some looked like they were on the cusp of slipping through. She looked like she had experience holding a whole bunch of bags. You couldn’t even imagine her shopping sprees. The thought made you smile, and you bent down to start picking up coins but then realized something. You shot back up, and called out to her before she could make it to the door. “Hey!”

“Ya?” She asked, turning around to you, lowering her sunglasses to show colorful eyelids. You were struck by the prettiness of her blue eyes in that moment, and tried to get enough saliva back in your mouth to speak.

“How did you know my name?” You asked, cocking your head. You didn’t remember introducing yourself.

“It’s on your shirt, silly,” She said, giggling. You looked down to the shirt that you were wearing, which had the name of the bakery on the back, and your name stitched in red on the front. “That gun musta really scared ya if ya forgot so fast.”

“My father was killed in a robbery, here in the bakery,” You found yourself saying without fully knowing why. Her look softened at that. She dropped her bags of goodies in the doorway, turned the open sign on it to closed, then returned to you.

“Ya know, I used ta be a Doctor,” She started. “I got a PhD and everything. So I think I know how to help you combat ya fears. Come over here.” She beckoned you to the other side of the counter, and you did so with confusion. She had thrown you off guard many times since she walked in a short time ago.

You had entirely forgotten about  the man on the floor. By the looks of him, he had forgotten himself. He was curled up in a ball, still hurting from when Harley had hurt him. You really did want to call him an ambulance at least. “I still think we should call-”

“Don’t have pity for him, he deserved what he got!” Harley said, making a face down at him. “Give him a kick or two, it’s real cathartic.”

“I don’t think I can,” You said, crouching down low and put your hand on his shoulder. “Maybe he’s just a poor man, trying to feed his family. I can’t blame him for that too terribly.”

“Well, aren’t you just a tenda’ heart,” Harley said, crouching alongside you. “As a Doctah, I’m telling ya, this is the best way-”

“The Slytherin way, maybe. I’m a full-blown Hufflepuff, I’m afraid.”

“Were you about to apologize?” Harley asked. You nodded, admitting it, which made the blonde woman laugh, falling over, hands on stomach, full on laughing. “I think ya need a lil bit of a snake around here to make sure that you don’t give away every dolla.”

“If I can ever afford a bouncer for a bakery, I’ll take that into consideration,” You said. The man beneath you groaned again. You helped him to his feet and sat him down on a chair. “Until then, I think I’ll do things my way. Thank you though - you probably did save my life.”

“Yea, I did, didn’t I?” Harley said, brushing off the fact that you weren’t doing what she asked you to do with a surprising amount of nonchalance. “I’ll be seein’ ya tomorrow, y/n. I’m getting outta here if you’re bringing in the pigs.”

“Tomorrow?” You questioned, watching as she left. She picked up her bags, which you still find amazing that she was able to carry.

“Well ya, I gotta get my suga’ fix. Helps that the baker is as sweet as  her creations,” She winked before walking out the door, the bell on it jangling behind her.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that until later, since you had to call an ambulance, and come up with a story as to what happened. You didn’t want to get Harley into trouble, not any more trouble than she was already in anyway. And you wanted her to come back to the bakery and not have to worry about being surrounded by police. Or even the Batman, who you heard was after her.

Before you turned in for the night, you laid in bed and thought to yourself, ‘Maybe snakes and badgers can mesh together after all.’’

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Stability Chapter 11

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Masterlist is here.

"You listen to me, and you listen well! I am gonna kill every member of your family! I'm gonna hunt them down like the animals they are, and I'm gonna skin em' alive! They are going to feel the pain and suffering of every last victim!" A disgusting squishy sound-filled the empty void of the cell. Sheriff Wydell had stabbed Mama Firefly in the stomach and twisted it until the light left her eyes. 

He was done playing this cat and mouse game. Mama's last taunt and laughter that ran through the station after more questioning pushed him over the edge. He had grabbed a large knife from his office and stabbed her in the stomach. As she fell to the ground he stood and took in the scene of what he had done. There was no turning back now, people like these people are monsters he thought to himself and the only thing monsters fear are other monsters. He had discovered through the interrogation that his brother was indeed murdered by Mama herself when he had come to investigate the cheerleader's disappearance.

 Sheriff John Wydell's eyes widened at the sight of his dead brother getting up from the couch he was sitting on, he began stuttering "I'm, I'm walking the line on this brother. I'm... I'm walking".George Wydell scoffed and answered sarcastically "Well, mother pin a rose on me, that is so great! I want these motherfuckers dead! Kill 'em!" John Wydell jumped up in a cold sweat… oh it was just a dream he thought, or was it? It couldn't be this hard to be signed by his brother that he needed to avenge him. "I'm brother, I'm trying," he thought to himself. 

"Why are you over here all by yourself handsome? Married or not you don't gotta be all alone"... Candy had slinked over to where Otis was laying on the couch downing a bottle of Jack Daniels. The rest of the crew was partying with the ladies at the brothel. Otis wasn't in the mood to party though. He wanted to get out of here and get moving. 

He felt guilty which was surprising for someone like him, that he was here enjoying a safe environment for the night without knowing where you were. "What do you want woman" he scoffed and attempted to get up.. "now now lay down You look like a mess Is your back hurting or something I can give you a massage I am a masseuse Well at least I can give a good enough massage that feels like I'm a masseuse" Candy said in a sultry voice twirling her hair, "listen here woman I said I ain't fucking you so go on and get" Otis said shooing her away with his hand.

 "Hey now no one said anything about fucking! How about I help you out friend to friend? You just must be tense worrying about your old lady out there". She sat next to him on the couch, he slowly got up to face her, "just a massage right No funny business or I'll throw your ass through the window". "Duly noted" she laughed and helped him stand grabbing his arm. She led him to a soft mattress on the floor. 

Sheriff Wydell on the other hand was not having the best night either, he was racking his brain on what was the next step to take for finding the four of you. He found himself staring at himself in the mirror talking to himself "You know I got to tell you, that's some catch phrase you got there, Devil's Rejects. What? You got something to say to me clown, huh. I bet you scare lots of folks, don't ya? Yeah, regular fuckiin' killer. You want a piece of this motherfucker? You want a piece of this? Huh, what you got! What you got! Lord I am your arm of justice. Lord I am your arm of justice. Lord I am your arm of justice. Your righteous sword of vengeance. Let my blows be true. From the illusion leads me to truth. From darkness leads me to light. From death leads me to eternal life." 

"Ah sir? That guy you asked for is here" his deputy Ray Dobson knocked on the door to his office breaking him out of his trance.  It was his deputy, who made the connection that  the aliases the family members usually went by and their connection to the old Groucho Marx films. He also discovered that the Fireflies were associated with the local clowns celebrity Captain Spaulding. Hoping to gain some insight into this connection, Wydell brought in film critic Marty Walker for consultation. 

The over the top Marty illustrated how each of the killers named themselves after characters played by Groucho Marx throughout the course of his career. Things between Wydell and Walker quickly became unsavory when the critic made a remark about Elvis Presley. Marty head scateched his head while looking at the clues pinned to the board "that goddamn fucking Elvis Presley." Sheriff Wydell looked up at him with his eyes wide and full of rage. 

"What'd you say about the King?!" Marty was clearly taken aback by the sudden tone change and looked around at everyone else in the room before sputtering out "I said he died three days before Grouch…" Wydell walked very close to him, looked him deep in the eyes and slowly said "Marty... if you ever say another derogatory word about Elvis Aaron Presley I WILL KICK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU!". 

"Boss don't you remember we had to run in with that guy Charlie not too long ago didn't he stay around with the guy named Spalding?" Ray quickly replied trying to defuse the situation. "Well goddamn you're right Ray… let's go pay Mr. Charlie boy a visit" he backed away from Marty and grabbed his hat. "Be seeing you Marty" 

Spalding had told Charlie that if he went and bought some fresh chicken He whipped them up some fried chicken on the house as a thank you for letting them hide out there. Unbeknownst to Charlie Sheriff Wydell had spotted him leaving the funtown and heading towards the chicken stand. He corners Charlie and demands that he give up the three of them and if he had any information on where you were he needs to give that information up to or it would not end well for him.

 He also asked him if he catches Otis in any compromising situations if he could snap a photo. It would be in his best interest. "I was also wondering," Wydell said, closing the car door a bit more on Charlie. He had closed his car door on Charlie's hands after instructing him to approach the vehicle once they cornered him in with their vehicle. "Is this girl with them by any chance? and I'm only going to give you one chance to answer me honestly" he held up a picture of you, Charlie shook his head viciously "no no naw she ain't with them gods truth man god's truth".. "god's truth hmm well you know where she is? I would like to have a little chat with her" Wydell replied. "Oh c'mon what's that lil girl gonna do" Charlie attempted to chuckle. "Hmm" Wydell said "looks can be deceiving, anyways tonight midnight I'll be seeing you". He released his hand and drove off in a cloud of dirt and smoke.

Back at the house unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you look at it for Otis, Candy was actually a very good masseuse and actually did just give him massage without reaching for his penis which is what he assumed was going to happen. His back was killing him from the hours of driving and that shit van they had stolen from the family back at the motel. 

He also was holding a lot of stress in his shoulders from the anxiety of the plan not going his way and not having any word from you now for multiple days. Unfortunately now she wouldn't stop following him around which was starting to piss him off because one she was annoying and two his back was still hurting and he could have used another massage. "You sure you don't want another one I mean you passed out during yesterday's massage just let me do your shoulders just a little more" she said skipping toward him.

 He wasn't sure if she was just trying to be nice or she was trying to wear him down to fuck her or something. He sat cleaning his knife while staring off into space thinking about you and when you gave this knife to him. You were in town with Baby and wandered into an antique store. You knew as soon as you saw it you had to have it.. he was overjoyed at the knife and vowed to never go anywhere without it. 

"What took you all so long? You said you were just heading into town for some supplies tonight" He asked , slamming the screen door behind him and walking out towards the car. You had insisted on driving your mustang into town with Baby on a girl's trip while he was in the middle of a project. He was hesitant but he allowed it because he knew that you two could probably use some girl time, he wasn't the easiest to always be around. 

"Oh shut up Don't know why you always got to be rushing people" Baby replied flipping her hair and strolling past Otis. "Fuck you" "no fuck you" "no fuck" "Hey!!" You yelled waving your hand in his face. "I took so long because I got you something, I saw it and I couldn't pass it up". You pulled out a dark paper bag and handed it to him. He looked inside and got silent, it was a large beautiful knife. Taking it out the bag he held it in his large hands and studied it closely. "Shit darlin this, this is beautiful..for me huh?" "Yeah of course!" "Why though?" He asked looking back at you with general confusion on his face. You walked over and stepped up on your tippy toes to softly kiss him. "Just wanted to do something nice because I love you". You said patting his chest and walking inside after Baby.

 He stood there for a few more moments looking at the knife and tucking it in his boot. Once inside he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you deep. "Thanks.. ah.. I just don't know how to accept gifts, not used to 'em." "Well I'm glad you like it" you smiled up at him "had me worried for a second I was starting wonder if you didn't like it" "naw I love it it's going everywhere with me always" he said wrapping his long arms around you "just like you". 

"Stop hovering woman!! If I need anything from you I'd ask now get" he huffed at her looking back to his knife. She stood for a moment and turned on her heels and headed away. Charlie headed back to the house trying to swallow the anxiety in his throat. He didn't want to betry the group but he also wanted to protect his business and livelyhood. He stopped at the liquor store and grabbed a bunch more bottles of Jack Daniels, might as well get them drunk and make this shit easier. 

[qianinterprises]

Unexpected Snow Day

Author's Notes: This fic was actually created for Valentines Day and a version of it has been posted on ncta and ao3.

Synopsis: The snow on the ground was a big surprise, and you aren't sure if it's pleasant or not. Sure, you love the snow, but the thought of spending Valentines Day alone isn't super appealing. It's a good thing your neighbor, Kun, has other plans to spend the day.

Pairing: Kun x Reader

Genre(s): fluff, tiny microscopic bit of angst

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 3900

This image is not mine. Credit to the owner!

You hadn’t been expecting to view the snow blanketing the ground when you’d woken for work that morning. Your first thought was that you must be dreaming. Upon further inspection, however, you discovered that your eyes didn’t deceive you at all. Snow covered the ground. Well, more than covering it. Coating it more like. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen snow like this. Actually, you hadn’t seen it snow here at all, at least, it hadn’t snowed in the three years you’d lived in the small, one bedroom, one bathroom cottage you rented from the sweet old couple a few houses down.

You let out a sigh and leaned against the window sill, pressing your nose against the cool glass. You loved the snow. You always had. However, snow today? You squeezed your eyes shut. Typically, you didn’t mind being alone; you’d gotten used to it, but you’d never had to be alone on this particular holiday. Sure, it had been a while since you had someone romantic to share it with, but you typically had friends, or, at the very least, your students to keep you company. That was actually the plan for today. Spend the day of love with your students.

Those plans were foiled now. You hadn’t checked your email yet, but guessed school would be canceled. This place hadn’t received snow in years. They had no idea what to do with it! School would be canceled indefinitely until the snow melted away or, at the very least, became more manageable.

Your phone dinged on the nightstand, drawing your attention out of your thoughts. You gave the snow one last glance, puzzled feelings bubbling in your abdomen, before moving back to your bed to retrieve your phone.

‘Look outside!’

The message had come from Kun, your neighbor.

Before you had a chance to respond, another message arrived.

‘Guess no work today! And all that time put into lesson planning!’

You let out a little giggle at that.

Kun taught cooking class at the high school, a few doors down from your class. You weren’t in the same subject, but you had hit it off instantly when Kun had brought you a batch of brownies to welcome you to the school a few years ago. You’d quickly become fast friends, something that only made living next door to one another that much better.

‘Extra vacation days for us and the kiddos!’ you replied.

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face. There was just something about Kun that made you smile. Whenever he was around, a smile broke across your rosy cheeks, even if you’d had the worst of days. Your other co-workers seemed to have picked up on this and began relentlessly teasing you for it. Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully), Kun hadn’t seemed to notice at all.

Your phone chimed again, this time portraying a little laughing emoji that Kun used a little too often. You slipped your phone into the pocket of your gray sweatpants. You were half tempted to climb back under the warm blankets heaped atop your bed, but opted to instead pace into the kitchen for a steaming cup of your favorite coffee.

While waiting for your Keurig to finish brewing, you stole another glance out at the snow through your kitchen window. The sun had risen fully now and you could now see white sticking to the tops of the trees. It was absolutely breath-taking. Something you hadn’t experienced in many years.

The sound of liquid filling your favorite coffee mug ceased and the sweet aroma filled the air. You poured in all of your creamers. Once it was sweet enough, you took a nice, refreshing sip, sighing softly as the warm liquid slid over your tongue and down your throat, instantly warming you.

Morning coffee was an absolute must. You couldn’t function without it. Sure, the caffeine was great, but it was more of the sweetness that you enjoyed. It was the perfect combination of sweet and bitter that got you ready for the day.

With a yawn, you moved into the living room of your little cottage. Monday’s were usually hectic and tiring, something you’d be counting on for the day. Now, with the snow covering the ground, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Perhaps you should stuff your face with chocolate and watch sappy romance movies with a box of tissues to dry your tears at someone else's happiness and your own loneliness. Maybe you should pop open the bottle of wine chilling in your refrigerator and drink the day away.

You sighed. You didn’t have a boyfriend to spend the day with. You didn’t have your best friend, who was already married, to cheer you up. You didn’t have your students to keep you distracted long enough for Valentines Day to feel full and bountiful.

You stretched out on the couch and your cat, Effie, jumped up in your lap, laying herself across your stomach, purring softly as she curled up. You stroked your cat's head and let your head lull against the throw pillows, staring up at the ceiling fan.

The best thing to do for a day like this would be reading a good book, you thought. It wasn’t long afterwards that you got up to grab a book from your collection.

The day was drifting away slowly, just as you had predicted. You was halfway through your book, taking your time to bask in the novel with a bowl of popcorn that Effie kept stealing. As lunchtime came and went, you found yourself succumbing to boredom. Your book was nice, but not nearly as interesting as you’d been hoping. You were blue. You had hopes that perhaps Kun would invite you over like he sometimes did for food or for a riveting game of Mario Kart, but as the day trickled away, those hopes vanished.

However, as your phone, which had been silent most of the day, began to ring, your hopes began to grow ever so slightly. The frown that had stitched itself across your face easily eased as soon as you picked up the phone to find Kun’s name flashing across the screen.

Light pink dusted your cheeks before you answered.

“How's your day going?” he asked.

His velvety voice sent chills up your spine.

“Boring,” you replied.

Your voice was dull with unenthusiasm that he chuckled at.

“I was bored too, which motivated me to clean out the old shed behind the house and I happened to find my own snow sled! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park with me to try it out?”

Your face heated up brighter than it already was. He wanted you to go? Sledding? With him? You swallowed thickly. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“I’d love to but uh… I don’t have a sled.”

“That’s fine! We can share mine! I-if you want to, of course.”

The way his excitement changed to stammaring made your heart pound. You’d never heard the cool, collected man stumble over his words before.

Your face heated, but you nodded against the phone, too anxious to speak just yet, although you knew he was waiting for an answer.

“I’d love to! When should I be ready?” you managed to squeak out.

“Ten minutes?” he asked.

Ten minutes?!

“Uh… sure!” you agreed, stupidly.

With that, the conversation ended and you shot up off the couch, startling Effie who had been asleep surrounded by popcorn kernels. Hastily, you tore the gray sweatpants down your legs, stumbling as you ran toward your closet, flinging your shirt off at the same time. As you reached the closet, you ripped the door open so hard it rattled, but you didn’t have time to care. Ten minutes was nowhere even close to enough time. Why you had agreed was completely beyond you. You could only assume it was your stupid, love-drunk brain going into over-drive with excitement.

You yanked a pair of black leggings off a hanger, ignoring the hanger that dropped onto the floor with a clank. You didn’t pause to pick it up. You didn’t have time! You rolled the leggings up your legs before grabbing a pair of jeans and sliding them up as well, hoping the simple combination would keep you warm enough. You pulled a sweater from another hanger, throwing it over your head and attempting to force your hands through, your heart racing as time slipped away, causing you to get lost in the sweater, attempting to blindly shove your head through the neck of the fabric.

With a grunt, you finally had the blasted thing pulled over your head and reached into the far back of her closet to retrieve a pair of black snow boots you rarely wore. You weren't even sure they’d still fit your feet, you could only hope.

You pulled your thick winter coat off it’s hanger. It was actually an old, tan, Carhartt coat that had belonged to your younger brother, but when he grew too big for it, shoulders too wide to fit, your parents, who hardly threw any clothing item away, found you could wear it. Sure, it was a little big on you. The sleeves were too long for your arms, the bottom covered your rear end almost completely, and it sat loose against your chest. Still, you loved it. It always smelled like pine and never failed to keep you warm, even in 20 degree weather.

You laid the coat out on the bed and turned your attention to the bathroom mirror.

Kun had seen you without makeup before, once, when his heat had gone out and he was banging on your door at 4 in the morning on a Saturday asking for warmth. That still didn’t make you confident. At the time, you didn’t care how your face looked, but now, as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, you wrinkled your nose.

Freckles were cute when they just covered the cheek-bones of pretty, skinny girls, but you was neither pretty nor skinny, and you had dark freckles all the way from the top of your forehead down to the chubbiness under your jaw.

Time was ticking down. You knew you didn’t have too much time to worry about your face, but the thought of facing Kun bare-faced made your stomach churn. So, you did the only thing you could. You opened the bottle of concealer and pulled the wand out. You used the wand to dot over the freckles all over your face before going over them all with foundation. It wouldn’t cover them all or hide them, but it made them lighter, less noticeable.

Once dressed completely, you gave one more long, unsatisfied look into the mirror. You’d covered as many of your cosmetic flaws as you could. There was nothing more you could do, and you were rapidly running out of time.

More time had passed than you realized. Just as you emerged from the bathroom, reaching for your shoes, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, tugging on your snow boots, over fuzzy socks. Once they were laced up, you pulled the winter coat over your shoulders and zipped it up to your chin.

Once completely ready, you shuffled over to the door, turning the lock and opening it hesitantly to reveal a grinning Kun standing on your tiny porch, clutching a dull, red sled with the paint chipping. He wore a beige jacket, hood pulled up over his head, and a pair of jeans he’d likely lined with long-johns. He was dressed casually. Much more casually than she was used to, and it forced the air to get trapped inside her throat. He was perfect, even when he was dressed for the cold.

“Ready?” he asked, voice smooth, melodic, and full of excitement.

“Absolutely!”

Your heart thumped a little harder in your chest. His attire, the sled, his smile, the day; it all made this seem like a magical date. You knew it couldn’t be but… in your dreams and your diary, it would be the most perfect date you’d ever gone on.

He walked down the three small steps leading to the ground that was covered in the icy white powder. As soon as he stepped foot on the ground, his boot crunched under the snow, a sound you hadn’t heard since you were young. It brought back so many memories of a happy childhood spent building snowmen and having snowball fights.

You followed him off the porch, you own feet soon crunching into the snow.

Kun led the way from your yard into his, taking a shortcut to the park not far from where you lived, a little more than a block away. You made your way up Kun’s driveway and out onto the side of the road. A snow plow had already come through to scrape the snow and ice off the road, but it hadn’t done a very good job. It had left ice in the center of the road and the scrapped away snow leaned precariously on the shoulder, teetering between off the road and on it. Not much of anyone would be driving today anyway, you supposed.

As the two of you made the short journey to the park, you exchanged small talk, mostly about classes or students you had in common. A brief conversation about your desire to get a German Shepherd puppy and Kun discussing his goldfish, Hendery and Xiaojun.

Before long, you’d reached the park and your eyes grew wide. From the moment Kun asked if you’d wanted to go sledding, you’d held no other thought about the complications in your mind, specifically the complications of the amount of people currently running amach. More specifically, your students, both past and present, seemed to be everywhere you turned. In fact, as you were taking it all in, Billy Bridges, one of your more… challenging students, flew past on a juvenile snowboard, nearly plowing over another adult in his path.

Your heart pounded nervously in your chest. You weren't great in crowds, especially in crowds that included your students that would ask a million questions about seeing you when you saw them again. Part of you thought it would be best to just go home, ditch a Valentines Day sled date and do something else, but as Kun’s gloved hand found your bare one, your mind blanked. He didn’t say a word, but he seemed to somehow know how nervous you’d become. He slowly guided you up through the throngs of people to a tall hill on one side of the park, a hill not too many people were occupying, as surprising as it was.

Once at the top, you took a moment to survey the area below. It was amazing. The usually green field was covered in thick white like some sort of enchanted wonderland. Children with pink noses were sliding down smaller hills on homemade sleds. Teenagers threw balls of icy fun at one another and chased each other around with snow-dusted boots. Others lay on their backs, stretching their arms out and flailing them as if they were trying to signal for help, forming the wings on an angel as their legs opened and closed over and over to make the outline of a dress, creating a pile of snow between their legs. Parents stood around, watching their children have fun or tilting their heads back with opened mouths to a falling snowflake on their tongue.

“Ready?” Kun’s voice brought you out of your reverie, his hand squeezing yours gently.

You looked back at him, grinning and nodded. As snowflakes began falling around them, several flakes became trapped in his hair, making him look like a dazzling snow prince that made you weak in the knees, and the urge to throw yourself at him became more impossible to withstand.

Luckily, he gave you a smile and turned away, releasing your hand and dropping the red sled into the snow, balancing it on the top of the hill, careful not to let it slide down without passengers.

“Did you want me to push you first?” you asked once the sled was situated.

Kun turned around at your question, confusion etched into his brow until that confusion turned to mirror dejection.

“I-I was thinking we could slide together…” he said, a light pink dusting his cheeks.

He must have been getting cold.

You was flabbergasted, nevertheless, at his statement. Your mouth was agape and you silence must have come off as judging rejection.

“I mean, if you want to! But you don’t have to!” he insisted, voice wavering slightly as the words rushed out.

You was still struck dumb, but this seemed to be all the push you needed to collect yourself and respond.

“That sounds like fun!” you agreed.

Kun let out a sigh that you were sure was just a hard exhalation of air and his smile returned.

He opened his hand, offering it to you, who gladly took it, face beginning to feel warm. He led you to where the sled rested and held the sled as you settled onto it. You bent your knees and slid your feet at the base of the sled to stabilize yourself. Once you were settled, Kun released the sled and you placed your bare hands on the frozen white sheets to stabilize it as Kun slowly lowered himself behind you. Your cheeks grew hotter as he situated himself with his legs on either side of you. He scooted closer, until his feet were pressed against the head of the sled beside yours and your back was pressed against his coat-clad chest. You could feel his warmth and his heartbeat through their clothes, slow and steady. Your own heartbeat racing at the closeness.

Kun reached around you, settling his arms on your waist and grabbing hold of the steering robe that rested against your knees. He pulled it tight and let his wrists settle on the tops of your thighs.

Your face was hot. So hot you were surprised you weren't melting the snowflakes still falling around you. You fought the urge to nestle yourself back against Kun’s chest, to make yourself more comfortable in his embrace. You fought against every urge within yourself not to turn around and press a kiss against his lips.To claim this as the perfect date in the history of dates. In fact, the only thing grounding you and keeping you from acting on your feelings was your bare hands still resting in the freezing snow to stabilize the sled.

“Ready?”

Kun’s voice was so close to your ears, you felt like you could melt. All you could do was nod, too nervous to speak.

With that, you dug your fingers into the snow and used it as a springboard to topple you over the hill. With as much strength as you could muster, you did just that, forcing the sled to slide on the ice until gravity took control and you were descending the hill. The sled was slow at first, but it gradually picked up speed.

As you sped down, wisps of hair fluttered up into the wind as elated laughter bolted from both your chests. A wide grin stretched across your face. You had forgotten how much fun this was, or maybe it was Kun’s presence behind you that made it more fun.

Your eyes began to sting from the cold wind blowing in your face, drawing liquid to your eyes that you blinked away. Kun’s hands squeezed tighter around you, holding the rope and holding you steady in his strong arms. Everyone else had seemed to disappear. The only two people left in the world seemed to be the two of you sliding down the slope, laughing the whole way, wrapped up in each other’s bliss.

Unfortunately, the best moments never last forever and all too soon, the sled was sliding to a stop at the bottom of the hill. The world came back into view. Children were running around, teenagers were throwing snowballs, parents were catching snowflakes. Nothing had changed. You were still two people riding a sled who had no idea how the other felt.

As the sled came to a stop, you collected yourself to get off, ready to ask if he wanted to go again, but Kun’s arms tightened around your middle. You paused and glanced back at him questioningly, your cheeks heating again.

The snow fell around you, bits of it collecting in your eye lashes.

Kun didn’t speak for a long moment. His brown eyes just searched your, looking for the answers to a question he hadn’t asked.

You was about to open your mouth to speak, when he beat you to it.

“How do you feel about me?” he asked

Your cheeks flamed hotter.

“W-What do you mean?” you asked, attempting to play dumb.

You had no intentions on revealing your crush if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Am I just a good friend or… more?”

You were silent. It was your turn to search him. Your eyes met his again, hoping for the correct answer. As you looked, you saw no trace of jokes or laughter. You saw seriousness. A seriousness that you drew courage from.

“I see you as a really good friend who lives next door to me that I’ve known for three years,” you began.

His face seemed to fall and he started moving away from you. It was your turn to catch his wrist.

“A really good friend whom I’ve had a massive crush on for the past two years.”

It felt good to admit it. Your cheeks heated up more as you waited for an answer.

It never came. At least, not a verbal one.

Instead, a cold, gloved hand touched your cheek, drawing you closer before a pair of cold, plump, and absolutely perfect lips fell on yours.

It took you a moment to comprehend what was happening and to respond, but when you did, you placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss. Your heart pounded in your ears. This was absolutely, without a doubt, the best Valentines Day there was in the history of days.

At least until a snowball hit you in the back, drawing you from the kiss in utter shock. You spun around, eyes wide until they met the mischievous smirks of Kim Jongin, Kim Jieun, and Lee Perry, three students you and Kun had in common.

“Mr. Qian and Ms. (Y/L/N) sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” They began singing.

Their teasing brought more heat to your cheeks, and Kun drew you closer.

“Well, that’s what we were doing until you three broke the moment,” he scolded.

This did nothing but make the three laugh as they doddled away to go bother someone else.

You whined. Your perfect moment ruined.

At least, until Kun wrapped his arms back around your waist and squeezed again.

“So you see me as someone you had a crush on. I see you as my girlfriend,” he said.

You turned to look up at him, shock written all over your face. You searched him, hoping he was serious. Deeming he was, a smile broke out across your face.

“And I want to be your girlfriend.”

He smiled and brought you in for another kiss, one that sealed the deal officially.

Definitely the best Valentine's Day ever.

[spacey-edits]

Heylo, can i request a rantaro oneshot where he comforts the reader going through a tough time? thank you!

Greetings!

Thank you very much for my first request on this blog. And for being so polite. I didn't make it as romantic, so I apologize for that.

I hope you enjoy!

–Mod Miu

...

Sitting by your car's broken side an obviously painful conclusion crawled into your head. You've lost control. Not only of the vehicle and It's movability, but of the life trail in general. It was impossible to get a grasp onto any decisions now. You were late to fix anything in your life span, everything was planned out by others but never materialized.

The wishful thinking of being in command of the steer wheel, has crushed under the weight of high standards and responsibilities. You were left in the middle of an intersection by all the by-standers in your life eventually, but you tried to hold up. To prove, with the little strength you had left, that your job or relationships with close ones were an easy task. However the last straw broke the kamel's back.

The setting day was a challenge by itself, yet this event, even being not as major of problem was initially the ending point. You've just sat there, staring into oblivion. Where could you go? Did you want to go anywhere? Did you want to stay here? You couldn't know. Just how you haven't realized the exact moment a stranger walked up to your slumped figure.

"Are you alright, miss?" You flinched at the voice, no matter It's calming tone. Nodding, and turning your head away you showed the stranger no interest in continuing the conversation. He sighed almost inaudibly and crouched down by your side.

"Your car is not starting, huh?" Another reluctant nod followed. You could feel the stranger let out a comforting smile.

"Why not just call the towing service? Did you lose your phone?" Your lips pressed into a thin line as you finally averted your gaze to him. He had no business with you. Why was he even bothering? The stranger ending up in a green haired boy with soft features, looked quite concerned. As soon as he saw your face, something processed in his head.

"I see." Was the only thing the stranger said, before standing up off the ground.

"Well miss, It's not very nice to sit on the road ain't it" He outstretched his palm in a welcoming gesture to your side. Your empty gaze trailed up to the person's face, which showed not a hint of disappointment.

"How about you stand up first." Staring at his hand again, you wondered. Why can't this annoying brat just leave you alone? Did you look that desperate? And then it struck you again. You must've seemed so miserable at the moment, that some punk was helping you off the ground. Not accepting the help, you slowly raised yourself off the road. Just to make him leave, one on one with your thoughts again. His matcha eyes softened a tad, as the male fixed the strap of his enormous hiking bag.

"That's better. Would you like some tea?" Unbelievable. He just doesn't seem to read the mood doesn't he? Which was completely the opposite. The stranger have already observed the situation pretty well.

"Just leave me alone." Your raspy voice sounded pretty pathetic in contrast to his composed tone. However, he didn't seem surprised at your sudden remark.

"I am sorry. It just looked like ya need a bit of help." You didn't know where your spontaneous irritation came from, maybe the process of bottling up your emotions for so long. But you have snapped at him.

"I don't need your goddamn help! I have everything under control!" It stressed you with how relaxed the male appeared, even after yelling into his face. You knew you were lying, and understood that he saw right through that statement.

"Well If everything is under control, why are you sitting by the roadside?" The answer was obvious to both of you, but you couldn't just accept it so easily.

"It's none of your business! Why do you even care?" Before the stranger could respond, you said something in spite of pure vexitation.

"Yes, I am miserable! I don't have any damn thing under control! There, I said it. Are you satisfied now?!" Your words made it seem as If the male was treating you unfairly. But deep down you knew, It was the other way around. The boy took a moment before he spoke again, in a much more sympathetic timbre.

"Well, you can start getting things under control by getting out of this nowhere." His conclusion made you think for a moment. He was right after all. And it surprised you how much weight lifted off your shoulder after you let that out. After he gave you a solution. Even If It's a temporary one.

Leaning against the window frame, you averted your gaze to the boy's face. He was around your age, and It surprised you how mature he really was.

"I don't really know you," he started again,

"But I know that you can get through whatever is on your mind right now. It won't come easily, but by standing up off this dusted road you made your first step." Your gaze fell down upon the phone in your pocket. It was fully charged.

"Piece by piece you can take control of everything, just don't give up will ya?" Suddenly a rush of guilt went through your brain. He was a very sweet boy, and your attitude towards him was undeniably wrong.

"I'm sorry for-" the green haired cut you off with a smile. You couldn't tell If It was sincere or not.

"Don't apologize. It's okay. I wish you luck with everything that is yet to come."

Feeling the need to say something, you started some small talk. The towing truck was on it's way here, so you had to kill some time before their arrival.

"Where are you going off to? It's pretty late." He cocked his head to the side, repeatedly fixing the strap.

"I am traveling around the world pretty much. Searching for my sister." So he lost his siblings? It surely made the things clear for you. But now you have realized that the green haired was going through some tough time too.

"But why on foot? Can't you get a car or something" The same smile glided through the male's features. It almost looked like he wanted to change the subject, and blocked your words out with a tugging smile.

"You know, my proposition for a cup of tea is still open" Thinking for a moment, you nodded and sat down on the trunk. Lightly tapping the place by your side, welcoming the mysterious stranger to sit down.

The time you have spent chatting has flown by unnoticeably. At first you were uncomfortable, keeping the stuff troubling you deep down. But the male's caring demeanor made you open up, and talk about your problems eventually. And he listened. Sometimes giving you valuable advice on relationship with family members and such. It looked like himself he had a nice family. Your conversation made you extremely grateful to meet the guy.

The matcha haired gave you a sense of security, which no one else could provide. It was comical in a way. He was closer to you than people who have walked by your side through ages. Looking off into the darkening sky, you dreamed about piecing your life together. This unknown boy filled you with such strength, you truly believed you could achieve anything. And It was even partly upsetting that the towing services arrived, before you could spend more time with him.

On the heels of his boots, the male turned around and carried off. Knowing that he planted a seed of hope in your mind.

"Wait!", you called out before he completely disappeared out of sight in the shadows of the evening.

"What's your name?" A light chuckle followed.

"Don't think about it. Just remember me as a conversation!" And with that, his figure completely melted in the purple hue. A soft look crept to your features. You've had a long road ahead, but you were ready to take it on with a towing truck.