#this is my first time hearing about them in this au but

[siaaxion]

now since you've decided to break my heart when I was finally warming up to flower husbands, here's a little something I thought up.

do you think Jimmy's Curse, Canary Call, The First To Fall, has doomed Scott in some way ? because hear me out, think about it :

( going a bit into my own au here )

The Watchers had it all to plan. all 5 of the escapees from Evo were here. The two Watchers were here, both of them had won. The two Listeners were here, even if both had attached themselves to people who weren't Watchers ( Scott - Martyn, Ren - BigB ), they were still in their grasp, and the final one, the Canary had become their past time to toy with.

After the first game, they gave the Canary's husband his blessing ( I'm begging someone to rename it from Ally Blessing to Relationship or something blessing so Joel's one sided rivalry can count ), to mock the avian, and his husband won right after that. After their split up, Scott ranked high in the top 3-5 every game, until...

Until something happened and the Watchers started to lose their grasp on the games. Xelqua Grian, their Watcher had the audacity to use this and go against them, teaming up with the other winners to host two games themselves, the first completely unaffected by their grasp and the second somewhat back into their clutches. They even had the audacity to crown the false winner, the Zombie to mock them. With the 5-7th games, many of their plays went wrong because of their meddling. The Canary's sister, her blessings of sorts allowed the Canary to live twice, once before her and the second right into the end. Scott's blessing still worked, his one sided rival took the crown, but the elf ended up dying earlier than he did, which never happened since the first game. Everything was going wrong, and it was all because of the very Winners the Watchers feasted from.

Even after the Elf moved on to their Listener eventually, the Canary's first death still had some effect on him, one that no one but himself and Xelqua Grian shall remember for the rest of these games.

( Am I still petty Scott was 10th in Wild Life? Yes. Etho my man you're letting the Scottho shippers down 😭😭😭 )

The way literally every single player in Third Life except Jimmy got to see how hard Scott fell apart after Jimmy died. Everyone else saw, talked, whispered with pity, as Scott became reckless and dazed with grief only to die uncharacteristically early in the finale. Except for Jimmy.

When Jimmy saw Scott for the last time in Third Life, Scott was in control as he always was, and when Jimmy saw Scott again in Last Life, Scott was in control again.

I always get the sense that Jimmy still sees Scott as unshakable, or something close to it, to this day. Jimmy always expects Scott to be in control of any given situation, to be level headed, observant, diplomatic, and on top of things. Even up to the most recent season.

Because Jimmy is the only person in the life series (who was present for third life, at least) who doesn't fully understand how hard Scott can shatter under the right circumstances, who didn't get to see it with his own eyes (and did anyone even tell him?), despite the fact that Scott's biggest moment of weakness was over Jimmy.

It's just fascinating to me guys.

[sheep-from-rad]

Crossover anon here

Yandere batfam vs SAGAU, you say?👀

I would very much like to hear your thoughts on it.

(Also, thank you for reminding me that SAGAU exists)

✨️✨️✨️

Masterlist also welcome back Anon! Hello! SAGAU and Batfam will get along swimmingly /s. Here’s the thing: How do you think the family would react if the accidentally neglected offspring (if neglected reader) or the normal child of the family started acting suspicious, started to become more withdrawn and spent more time with video games, and started muttering about how their game is becoming self-aware? 

Did you guess it right? Yeah, it’s a trip to Doctor Leslie or better yet a trip to Auntie Harley. They are most likely to dismiss it as a psychological disturbance first because let’s be real, if Gotham is a person and then it’s that person who lives permanently in a padded cell in a mental hospital. You can never really go around the place without the 50/50 chances of you dying in broad daylight. Also loneliness is a breeding ground for anxiety, depression, and even suicidal thoughts. Your game will likely be confiscated too but to be checked if you accidentally get hacked or if the game is bugged. 

I’d like to think that the moment they realized that the game is really self-aware like what you believed, it’s already too late. The game has already transported you somewhere else in Teyvat and now you’re trapped in the SAGAU plotline. 

Here’s a mini plot bunny (it’s just a plot bunny because I want to focus on the Blood bound series [I wrote it without drafting the series’ whole storyline so now I’m scared everytime I open the doc]): 

In most SAGAU plots that I have read (at least the non Impostor AU ones), Teyvat and Abyss are almost always buddy-buddy. Like ‘if the divine creator wants us to be neutral and then we’ll be neutral’ and most of the time Celestia is forgotten. Imagine Batfam being pulled to the SAGAU plot but the one who pulls them in is Celestia. 

My lore is rusty but I know for sure Celestia will try to brainwash Batfam into thinking that Teyvat and Abyss are evil and that they are lying about your divinity to keep you in the game. Celestia will weaponize the apparent yandere tendencies!  Batfam wants you back and Celestia wants the controls back, two birds in one stone. 

Is Batfam powerless in Genshin? I say around 60/40. They can fight but when it comes to vision users they might need to upgrade their contingency documents. Not to mention that not every user uses their vision the same. They will need to study those elemental reactions too and how each element interacts. But of course, Batfam is not stupid and sooner or later they will see it through Celestia’s agenda and they will have to break away and find their own way in Teyvat. 

SAGAU will be a fun ride especially if it’s a neglected reader x Batfam who wants forgiveness and just wants a sense of  family over again. If anything, the game characters aren’t simple-minded and they know how to listen (I’m looking at Ga Ming’s lore here of how him and his father became okay again on that lantern rite), I’d like to think that if the character sensed that Batfam is being genuine and then they might even become a bridge to forgiveness. 

What if Yandere Batfam learns that the game is really self-aware before you get transported to Teyvat? Prepare for a technological lockout. Devices gone? Passwords? Changed! TV time? Limited. If you need to get homework done and then you’ll be using it with anyone’s supervision. No more isolation! If making you go out and bond with your siblings might play a role in breaking you away from the game and then they will do it. If you really need your devices, then you’ll be treated like a toddler with some apps being locked. 

All those precautions will fill them with sense of protection until a citizen comes to the GCPD reporting that an accurately dressed Dottore cosplayer was spotted working with Joker. 

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.13): his room - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

an; my biggest apologies for not updating for so long!! schools been really busy recently but i have a vision for the story so no more long waits for new chatpers (i hope)!! also this chapter is again irl heavy

part 12 - part 13 - part 14

you sit there for a second, staring at nothing, before you finally reach for your phone. your fingers hover over the screen before you even know what you’re doing.

the response is immediate.

your breath catches in your throat.

there’s something about that answer that makes your pulse stutter, but you push past it.

you hesitate before the next text, fingers tapping idly against your thigh.

three dots immediately appear, but disappear after a second. you exhale, waiting for the three dots to pop up again. your heartbeat is in your throat and you feel light headed as you wait.

thirty seconds.

thats how long it took for him to respond, and thats all it took for you to almost have a heart attack.

you don’t give it any further thought.

you slip out of the room quietly, your pulse hammering in your ears. jj is already breathing evenly, half-asleep, and he doesn’t stir as you pull the door open.

your path to rafe’s room is eerily quiet. your heartbeat is the only thing you can hear as you reach his door.

you hesitate outside the door for half a second before pushing it open. the room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. shadows stretch long against the walls, warping with the faint movement of the curtains in the breeze. rafe is sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head ducked low like he’s thinking too hard about something.

his head lifts when you step inside. he doesn’t say anything. neither do you.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the quiet shifts. it feels heavier now, thick with something unspoken, something too solid to ignore. the kind of silence that isn’t quite anger, but isn’t far from it either.

you cross the room and sit down on the bed—not too close, but not far either. the space between you feels intentional. rafe exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days. the way he won’t look at you only makes the weight in your chest press harder.

"i just..." you start, then stop. your fingers knot together in your lap. "i wanted to talk about earlier."

rafe scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. "of course you did."

you blink at him, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. "what's that supposed to mean?"

he doesn't answer. his jaw clenches, shoulders tensing like he's holding something back.

"rafe," you say his name softer this time, reaching out without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist. he turns at that, eyes flicking to yours for the first time since you walked in. there's something behind them—something sharp, something unraveling.

then suddenly, his hand finds your jaw, fingers curling against your skin, and he kisses you.

it's too quick, too desperate. his lips press against yours like he's trying to make you forget why you're even here in the first place.

but you don’t kiss back.

your hands press flat against his chest, pushing him away as your breath stumbles, heartbeat ricocheting inside your ribs.

“wait—” the word comes out sharp, uneven. your head shakes on instinct, fingers pressing hard against your temples like you can physically stop yourself from spiraling.

"fuck, rafe. you cant just—"

rafe pulls back, eyes searching yours with something raw, something desperate. his brows furrow like he can’t understand why you stopped him, like he can’t understand why it isn’t that easy.

"can't what?"

the weight in your chest threatens to crush you whole.

his voice breaks the silence first, low and uneven. "this about jj?"

your throat tightens. your fingers dig into your arms.

he doesn’t get it.

you shake your head, lips pressing together to keep them from trembling. “you don’t get to do that,” you whisper, voice barely holding together. “you don’t get to just—”

"get to what?"

the words catch. the lump in your throat grows thick, nearly choking.

your jaw clenches. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“act like you don’t know.”

he lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “you wanna talk about earlier,” he cuts in, voice clipped. “right?”

you hesitate, but nod. “yeah.”

his lips press together, his hands clasped so tight his knuckles go white. “of course you do.”

you blink, thrown. “we talked for the first time in a month and you don’t wanna talk about it?”

you cross your arms over your chest, pressing your fingers into your skin like you can hold yourself steady. "you wanna talk about it? yeah? how about we start from that night?"

your stomach flips. “what night?”

rafe exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. he shakes his head, jaw clenched.

"you know what fucking night," he snaps. "tannyhill. when we got high and posted all that shit."

you inhale sharply.

he shakes his head. "i woke up thinking it was something. thinking we—" he stops himself, running a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.

"but then you started hanging out with the pogues." his voice turns bitter, edged with something almost venomous. "started running around with him."

your brows furrow. "him?"

his jaw flexes. "jj."

your breath catches.

rafe scoffs. "what, you’re gonna act surprised? like you weren’t all over him?"

your stomach twists, anger flashing through your veins. "are you serious right now?"

"i don’t know, roni. am i?" his voice is sharp, biting. "because it sure as hell looked like you were fucking around with him."

you shake your head, disbelief crawling up

"i woke up that morning, and it was like—fuck, roni, it messed me up. you looked at me like nothing changed. like it was just another night, like—" he stops, running a hand over his face. "and then you were with them. with him. and i didn’t know what to do with that."

your throat feels tight. the pressure behind your eyes builds, your chest getting heavier by the second.

“I mean, was it fun? Did he make you forget—”

you barely hear him anymore. his words are background noise to the storm in your head, to the way your own thoughts are eating you alive.

because he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know what happened. he doesn’t know that for a moment, you let it happen, let yourself fall into something you didn’t even want, just because it was easy.

he’ s still going, voice sharp, edged with frustration. “you could’ve been with anyone, but you picked him? really?” he laughs, but there’s nothing funny about it.

your throat burns. you can feel the tear rolling your cheek.

rafe scoffs for the billionth time, about to keep going—then he the way your breath catches. the way your shoulders curl inward. the way your fingers tremble as you try, and fail, to wipe the tear away before he can notice.

he stops, eyebrows furrowing. “what the fuck? are you fucking crying?”

your hands are clenched in your lap, your teeth digging into your lip, your whole body tense like you’re trying to keep yourself together.

rafe’s irritation falters. his jaw tightens, and he leans in slightly, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. “dude.”

you shake your head quickly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s useless. a tear slips down your cheek, and you swipe at it aggressively, frustrated with yourself.

“what is going on?” his voice is more calm now, but still filled with rage and confusion.“why are you crying?”

you shake your head quickly, like you can push away whatever’s clawing up your throat.

but you do. you’re crying because this is rafe, your best friend, and he feels like a stranger. because you love him, and because you don’t know if you’re even allowed to anymore. because jj’s hands were on you hours ago, and you didn’t want it, not really, but you let it happen anyway.

he’s watching you now, expression shifting, annoyance flickering into something else. something more careful.

you exhale sharply, voice breaking apart before you can even finish. “i didn’t want to.”

his brows pull together. “didn’t wanna what?”

your fingers dig into your arms. you can’t say it. you can’t.

rafe leans in, voice lower, rough but steady. “use your fucking words.”

but you can’t.

your breath stumbles, and then—everything spills over.

your shoulders shake harder, silent at first, but then the sob hits, breaking past your lips in a way you can’t stop. your hands press against your face, like maybe if you hide, this won’t be happening.

rafe hesitates. for half a second, he just looks at you, stunned, like he doesn’t know what to do with this.

then he sighs, muttering a quiet, “fuck,” under his breath—before reaching for you.

he pulls you in, arms wrapping tight around your frame, and this time, you don’t push him away.

your face presses into his shoulder, fingers curling into his shirt, gripping tight like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. rafe’s warm. steady. too solid, too real.

he doesn’t say anything. he was ready for you to fight back, to push him away, to bite out something sharp like you always do when you’re upset. but you don’t. and for some reason, that unsettles him more than anything.

his pulse is still fast from the argument, his breathing uneven, but you’re shaking against him, and suddenly, none of it matters.

the room stays quiet, save for the sound of your breathing, rough and unsteady against his neck. after a moment, he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to even you out with him.

somewhere in the haze, his grip loosens. his thumb moves, slow and absentminded, over your back. maybe it’s instinct. maybe it’s something else.

the weight of the past few weeks lingers, thick in the air between you. nothing is solved. nothing is fixed. but somehow, the anger feels like a distant thing now, like something neither of you have the energy to hold on to.

your body stays tense for a while. you don’t notice when it starts to ease.

and rafe doesn’t notice when he stops thinking about why he’s still holding you.

before you know it, the exhaustion catches up. the weight in your chest dulls, your thoughts blur, and your grip on his shirt goes slack.

rafe feels the shift but doesn’t move.

your breathing evens out first. then his.

before either of you can stop it, sleep settles in, pulling you under.

and for the first time in weeks, neither of you fight it.

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecameronswifeyy @starsval @hypnotizedstarkey @wintercrows @d-daxx @dontknow3m @jjasmiineee @Chillgal135

[smile-for-the-camera-smg4]

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA - A guide

(CONTENT WARNINGS: STALKING, MURDER, GENERAL SLASHER THEMES)

This is an SMG4 AU based around slasher horror movies, starring Mister Puzzles as the masked madman and Tari, Mario, SMG3, SMG4, and Meggy as the protagonists who are killed off one-by-one.

This is a project created by @jovialoddity , originally posted to my side blog, @jovialsnerdzone

The base premise

I explain it in my first post here, but the base of what is happening is this:

A small group of the SMG4 crew go on a vacation to a remote cabin in the middle of the woods. All is going great, until Tari goes missing. As more of them start to disappear, and eventually show back up as corpses, the remaining members learn that they aren’t alone in these woods. Somebody is watching them, killing them, and recording all of it… in an attempts to create his very own classic slasher movie, starring them.

Asks

Asks for the characters of the AU will be open soon, and when they are, I will link my post about it. For now, the askbox is open for me if anybody has any questions about this AU or how it functions.

Boundaries with the AU under the cut

•••

“Are we allowed to draw fanart for this AU?”

Yes, of course! I would love to see whatever you create. Make sure to tag this account, I would love to reblog it.

“Are we allowed to insert our OCs into the AU?”

Sure you can! Please keep in mind, though, that they will not be canon to this AU. This AU has a very specific story in place that is only intended for the existing SMG4 characters included in it. OCs are allowed, but they’re more of a fun non-canon activity. :)

“Are we allowed to ship ourselves/ship our OCs with Mister Puzzles?”

I’m not sure. This is a subject I’m still iffy about. Preferably not for the moment. Finding him attractive or saying “hear me out” or similar things is 100% alright, just don’t make any ships with him for the time being.

“Can I make NSFW content for this AU?”

Absolutely not. Gore is completely alright, considering the subject matter of this AU, but please don’t create any suggestive or sexual content for it.

If you aren’t sure about anything mentioned here, or aren’t sure if you’re crossing any boundaries, you can feel free to reach out to me and I’ll happily clarify anything.

•••

Thank you for reading to the end. I’m excited to share this project with all of you!

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | fourteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, mostly focused on namjoon again in his stressed with no rest era, oc tells her friends about everything, jiung x oc fighting, crying :(, oc has a pretty good talk with namjoon, things are just shifting/changing

—a/n: the next fic coming up after wildfire has been posted here! also if you haven't taken my poll, pls do so! hehe <33 i appreciate u

You lay back against the arm of the couch with your blanket sprawled on top, typing away the last bits of info into your presentation. You're a slide away from creating your acknowledgements slide and wrapping up the entire rotation update. You had gotten an email from both San and Namjoon stating that your rotation in San's lab was ending due to a change in your timeline and that you needed to present your rotation update to the both of them, along with the dean, in the following week. It scared you at first— and it still does now— but it's starting to make more sense as to why San did what he did. Namjoon sent you a side email asking if you could meet today because he wanted to discuss what was going on. He kept it vague. Short.

Maybe he was holding off until the meeting.

It's obvious who started all of this. It's not hard to tell.

But, you agreed to meet after TAing for Yunho— letting Namjoon know you'd be there as soon as class was over. He agreed to the time and sent you a reassuring message towards the end, telling you all would be well and that he'd help you figure things out no matter what.

It was reassuring, but it doesn't mean you weren't scared.

Anxious.

Nervous.

Doesn't mean any if this it hurt any less. Doesn't mean you weren't angry, upset, sad. You still needed to feel it out, especially being alone and going through this without anyone else to talk to about it.

You had Eunchae, Jurin and Felix. But, you wished you had Jiung to talk to. You wished you didn't feel hurt about him, too.

—FLASHBACK

"So, you two are seeing each other?" Jurin asks while she sits in front of you and holds onto your knee to give it a gentle rub. Eunchae sits next to you with her arm over your shoulder, also giving you a gentle caress, squeeze. Felix sits next to Jurin and he's got a look of concern, but sadness. You had finally opened up about everything between you and San; from how things started, the conferences, staying at his house, being with him—

To not.

Jiung keeps himself posted near your window because he doesn't really wanna hear more about it but he needs to— to understand the full story. Part of him also feels guilty for what he did hearing your cries and how awfully torn up you are over Professor Choi.

San.

He's gotta get used to you calling him San like that.

"Were." You shake your head and press the tissue against your nose to pat it dry. "It's done with now."

"But, why? Couldn't you guys just play it off?" 

"I'm sure he wanted to be safe, though." Felix adds softly. "I think I kinda see where he's coming from." He looks at you. "I don't think he meant to hurt you, but he's probably trying to protect you and keep everything safe in the meantime. Once this blows over—"

"I doubt we'd get back together."

"Don't say that. You never know, Y/N. I agree with Lix. He's probably just trying to do what's best for now even if it hurts him to. I'm sure he cares a lot about you. I mean heck, he almost fucked up Hae-jin in front of everyone." You sigh and look down at your hands, the feeling of sadness and emptiness all consuming. 

"He does." Eunchae adds to Jurin's reassurance. "I don't know why Professor Lee and Professor Jeong think it's their business, though. Haven't they done enough damage?"

"Awful. People literally can't mind their business, especially when it has nothing to do with them."

"I get the power dynamics but Professor Choi doesn't seem like the type. So, honestly, it's not like anyone was getting hurt in the process." Jiung silently fiddles with his hoodie string as Felix goes on.

"And people clearly don't know you if they assume you're the one throwing yourself on him." Jurin adds.

"Damn. Two people can't just be together?" Felix shakes his head. "Anyway, you got us, and this will pass. I'm sure Professor Kim will do everything to help and figure things out, too." You dig your face into your hands, trying to wipe away the remaining tears before you nod and smile at Lix in appreciation for his support, too. 

Still, you can't help but notice how Jiung has remained quiet this entire time— barely able to maintain eye contact with you.

"Should we go to dinner? Get some food in you?" Eunchae gives you a small smile and giggle. You nod and stand with them, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror while the three start making their way out of your door.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"About?"

"I just have to tell you something. Probably shouldn't wait until after dinner."

"Um, okay?" You look at him, hands crossed over your chest in a vulnerable manner, doe-eyes peeking up at him as he lets out a hefty sigh. "What's on your mind?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I just wanna say I'm sorry and I hope you understand where I'm coming from. But—" He lets out another sigh before shaking his head, almost as if he were shaking his feelings off. Trying to tell himself he needs to say it. "I-I went to Professor Kim and told him about you and Professor Choi. I told him I thought you were being taken advantage of and that I was worried."

"What?" You can barely get out. "W-why would you do that?"

"I was really just worried and I wasn't sure how else to get to you. I-I thought Professor Kim would be able to help—"

"Jiung." You call his name and step back, not wanting to be in close proximity to him. You knew he was worried about you, but you didn't think he'd go off and talk to Namjoon about it right away. "Why would you do that? Why couldn't we just keep talking about it— why did you have to go and blow this up even more?!"

"I'm sorry, can you blame me?!—"

"You didn't have to go behind my fucking back and tell Professor Kim! I already told you it wasn't like that and you still told him it was?! What the actual hell, Jiung?"

"I was just worried about you! I was being your fucking bestfriend, trying to make sure you weren't hurt or anything."

"And then you made things worse. Are you happy?" You scoff. "Those assumptions could have really fucked up Professor Choi."

"What about you, Y/N? Why do you keep disregarding yourself?! Is that even healthy—"

"Healthy?! I'm telling you the truth!" You scoff. "And you don't know shit about me and him, so quit acting like you do." You throw your hands up in defeat because he'll never get it. "Forget it, okay? You'll never understand and I don't need you to."

"Hey, what's going on?" Felix pops his head in, confused at the ruckus going on behind doors. Truthfully, he heard everything just as he was approaching the door to check up on you, and he's not sure how to feel. It's hard. He feels like he's in the middle because he sees Jiung, he sees you.

"You guys can go off to dinner together, but I'll probably just stay behind." 

"But, Y/N—" Jiung adds in defeat.

"Why don't you and the girls go? We'll catch up later." Felix tugs him by the sleeve and gives him a look. "Give her some space." He mutters lowly just as he gets in close distance.

—END

Your alarm blares on the coffee table, a harsh reminder that you haven't really slept much. It was time to wrap up and get ready for Yunho's class— something you weren't entirely ready to tackle today either.

But, you get up anyway. 

You sigh and put on your brave face.

You throw on a simple sweater, jeans and your Sambas— dabbing a bit of mascara, brow gel and lip gloss to fix yourself up a tiny bit for the day. You were tired of feeling sad and dressing the part; the least you could do was finally get some fresh air and look decent enough for the world while coming out of your slump. You grab your things and pack up your bag, heading out of the door with your keys in hand.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San's lab.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San.

You let out a sigh and quietly walk over to the classroom in peace, keeping your head down for a majority of the time. 

Avoiding eye contact, avoiding anything having to do with the outside world in meantime.

"Hey!" Yunho says in his usual fashion. You give him a small smile, although you're not really sure why he's joining class yet again today. He had been joining your class in particular recently, and you knew why.

He just wanted to get under your skin.

"Hi." You respond, getting your laptop together. Yunho continues to watch you from where you're standing, noting the sadness that envelopes your entire body. The way you're avoiding him. The way it's so blatantly obvious that you know that he knows.

That Iseul is the reason why you're sad.

You don't say anything otherwise; keeping your head down and away from Yunho even while the class walks in. You continue to carry on with the last journal club of the class before giving everyone time to work on their final proposals before it's due at the end of the evening. A few people linger at the end of class to speak with you and Yunho to get your guidance on the last remaining bits of their proposals before they thank you for all your help and head out for the day.

You still haven't said a word to Yunho, and he can't help but ask:

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asks nonchalantly after class, looking at your figure even though you are avoiding eye contact with him while packing up your things.

"No."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't know why you're asking if something is wrong when you know what it is already. Don't you?" You look at him plainly from the side before gathering the rest of your things.

"Whatever's been happening between you and San is between you and San—"

"So, was it you who told Professor Kim? Or was it Professor Lee?" You cut him off. Yunho stares at you, and he doesn't respond. Of course he won't, of course he won't throw Iseul under the bus even though you know she was behind it.

"It was for the best."

"Quite frankly, I don't think you can speak on what's best for me or him. Especially him." You look at Yunho directly in the eye. "Are you both that determined to bring San down? Is that what this?" He furrows his brows.

"Reel it in, Y/N." He says, sternly. "Do you not understand how damaging this could be for both you and him? If anything, it was done to protect you both."

"What makes you think we weren't capable of doing so?" Yunho lets out a pathetic chuckle before he steps forward and leans towards your ear, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think snuggling up on campus and sneaking into his office is enough of a reason." He pulls back, licking his lips before dipping his hands into his pocket.

"And I think you need to learn how to mind your own business and let San handle his own." You scoff. "In any case, Yunho." You look him in the eye. "You and Iseul already ruined him from the beginning and you can't come to terms with it." You tilt your head to the side. "You both were never deserving of San, and that is sad. No wonder you two are miserable and are still keeping tabs on him." Yunho's mouth slightly drops, but he doesn't respond to your statement. "I'll help out with finals if needed. Otherwise, please consider my TA assignment with you done."

You almost run into Iseul as you stomp out of the classroom, leaving her to knit her brows at you in response.

"Nice talk." Iseul pops in, her husband biting his cheek.

"We should have never gotten involved with that, Iseul." He says lowly as he gathers his things together.

"Oh, so just let them—"

"That's exactly it, just let them be." He cuts her off and looks at her. "It didn't have to be us. We could've just let them be and let anyone else do the talking. Let them learn on their own." His jaw ticks.

"We did the right thing." She crosses her arms.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're taking the opportunity to destroy San and running with it. It didn't have to be us." He repeats, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"Yunho." She says. "You're not actually taking Y/N seriously, are you? She's delusional if she thinks all of this is okay and would've slipped."

"Don't call her delusional, Iseul. You have no say in their relationship or what they're about. You had no right. They knew what they were getting into. You just lead them into the trap for your own benefit." Yunho scoffs. "You wanted to see this unfold, didn't you? You wanted this to unfold in a specific way." 

"What is going on, Yunho?"

"We're not meddling in this anymore. If you're not ready to stop, count me out of it. I'm not doing this, I'm not picking at their business anymore." He grabs his things and takes the lead out of the room. Iseul scoffs and shakes her head, slowly trailing behind him.

As for you, you feel cold. You feel isolated. You feel empty. You walk out and find a hidden table behind the building and set yourself down to get yourself together. You let out a couple of breaths to ease your feelings, promising yourself you wouldn't cry over this anymore.

But, it hurts to hold it in.

It hurts.

You feel the dullness, the heavy ache, in the center of your chest, and it hurts.

You have to move on.

"Fuck." You sigh, hand over your chest to give it a few gentle rubs before you're back on your feet and checking the time. You need to see Professor Kim just like your promised.

Of course, as you're on your way to Professor Kim's office, you find San passing by with Yeosang and Jongho. His eyes land on you and you immediately break first, feeling the tears ready to well up in your eyes. He sees the way your head drops and how you turn away— he can't help but slightly turn over his shoulder to keep his eyes on you.

To lock eyes with you once more.

To feel.

But, it doesn't happen. And it fucks San up more than he expects because he doesn't know even know what Jongho and Yeosang are talking about anymore after that brief interception.

"Yo, you good?" Jongho taps his chest with a small chuckle, bringing San back to reality.

"Yeah. Sorry." He tries to play it off quickly but Jongho quickly turns over his shoulder to see you walking in the opposite direction.

"All good." He returns to San and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." San gives him a toothless smile. "Anyway, did you guys figure out where we're going before we make laps around campus?" Yeosang and Jongho share a quick look before they follow behind San and pick the conversation back up to prevent any of San's sadness from creeping up.

Meanwhile, you continue your way to Professor Kim's office, wiping away the stragglers that manage to escape your eyes and streak your cheeks. You weren't gonna let this get to you, so you quickly try to brush it off and get yourself together especially when you walk down the hallway and into Professor Kim's office. He's in his chair, typing away on his computer— glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N, come sit and make yourself comfortable." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, sitting down on the chair posted in front of his desk.

"Thanks for meeting with me today, Professor Kim."

"No, thank you." He chuckles and finally shifts his full attention towards you. "How are you today?"

"Uh, could be better but not complaining."

"Yeah? How was class with Professor Jeong?"

"Hm, okay." You hum before shifting in your seat nervously. 

"Just okay?" You nod. "Well, as long as there aren't any complaints or anything you wanna tell me." Namjoon knows you probably aren't having a great time in Yunho's class right now and he doesn't blame you.

"No." You force a smile. "Anyway, I see that I have to do my rotation presentation next week?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Y/N. You do understand why this is all happening, right?" You slowly nod. "I know you and San have been seeing each other, and I know he ended things the other day. I'm really sorry, but I just need to protect you both. Word is getting around fast and the dean isn't having it. I can't have him fire San, I can't have him kick you out of the grad program. Please just understand why things have to be this way. I just need it to settle."

"I do." You respond weakly before looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Professor Kim. I didn't mean— we didn't mean for this to blow up. I-I know we shouldn't have been so sloppy and reckless, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, hey." He shakes his head with a sympathetic look. "No need to be sorry. I promise all is fine, and that's why I'm here to help and protect you both." You look at him with a sad nod, and you aren't sure why that's the tipping point for you but you suddenly start to break down in front of Professor Kim. He feels his heart breaks because he knows there wasn't any power play in this; he knows San as a person, and he's familiar with you as a student and the work you do. There was no way either of you used any power or position for your advantage. He knew this had been a genuine, real relationship— it's just truly unfortunate it had to unfold this way.

If word hadn't gotten around, maybe Namjoon wouldn't care at all. 

But, he has to now, and that's what makes everything hard about his role.

"I promise everything is going to be okay." He says softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Namjoon shakes his heas, watching the way you cry into your hands.

"Y/N, it's okay. You can let it out if you need to." He passes you the tissue box. "Can I ask you something? And be honest. I've already figured out your plan for school so you don't have to hold back." Namjoon says. "Do you care about him?" You nod as you continue to cry, the ache in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. 

You miss San.

"But, it doesn't matter because he ended it. It's over with."

"He only did so because of my guidance, and I'm sorry about that. I told him this too, but it's not something I wanted to do. Trust me. As his friend, it's the first time I've seen him genuinely and truly happy. It's all I wanted after the things he's gone through. But, I just can't risk it right now. San is beginning to reach new heights with his career and getting more real estate to do things he's been wanting to do with Jongho. You're also just getting into the groove of things. I don't want either of your hard work to get snatched away over something like this."

"No, I know Professor Kim. I do understand and I'm grateful. It just sucks. I don't know how else we would've gotten away with it, I guess." You sniff. "Maybe it had to happen."

"Look, I told him this, too. But, I can't police every detail and tell you who you can and can't date. If San is someone you care about, then so be it, but the only thing I ask of you is to keep it off campus. I cannot have you two interacting on campus or else he's out. Not by my choice, but the committee."

"I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I know, and he said the same thing about you. He cares just as much, so don't think that he doesn't." You dab your face with the napkin and nod.

"Jiung confessed and told me he came to you about it." Namjoon nods.

"I think he was just worried as your friend. Rightfully so. But, I think he also shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions right away."

"I told him that."

"If I hadn't known San so well, I probably would've believed Jiung." He sighs. "It's alright, he didn't know and he was worried. Are you two okay?"

"Not really, but I think we just need time. I'm trying to see his side of things, but I also didn't think he'd do that so it caught me off guard."

"I see. Well. Give yourself some time and grace, okay? I'm sorry it had to be this way for now." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. Eyes still shiny and watery from the crying you've just done. 

I'm sorry it had to be this way for now.

It repeats in your head over and over again because why does it feel like this is just how it's gonna be? Despite Namjoon reassuring you, despite San's explanation. Why does it just feel like a fleeting moment? A chapter in your book— a part that was never really supposed to last.

"Thank you." He gives you a smile.

"So, shifting to the program. I was thinking I could pull you into my lab and we can figure out things as time goes on? Explore other options if there's anything else you'd wanna explore." You nod. "You know there's other paths we can look into, or if you're totally fine with where you're at in my lab, then we can just stick with that plan."

"That sounds good. Thank you, Professor Kim."

"Unfortunately, like I mentioned, I can't have you interacting with Professor Choi. I'll have to make sure you don't take any of his classes or end up in any collaboration projects with him." You nod.

"Okay. I understand." 

"You'll have to halt all your work in his lab immediately. You can grab your things when you feel ready to, but I'll have you in my lab starting next week. I know it'll be a bit crazy with your rotation presentation, but I promise to make it a smooth transition." 

"Okay." You purse your lips. "I'm almost finished with my rotation presentation."

"That's great!"

"It'll just be us three?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not the usual format but I need the dean to see all the good work you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate your support."

"Do you have any questions so far? Any other concerns?" You think for a second before shaking your head.

"No."

"I'll send you some onboarding info and give you the contacts to some key people in my lab to help you get started. We can figure out your project and goals in a little more depth next week. Let's aim for a Monday morning meeting? 9am?"

"Good with me." 

"Thanks, Y/N. And please trust me when I say all is gonna be well."

"Thank you." 

"See you next week? Be sure to keep an eye out for my emails." You nod as you stand and tuck your bag closely to you.

"I will." You give him another smile before heading out of the door. Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and plops back down onto his chair, picking up his direct line to ring the dean's office phone. It rings for a few minutes before the dean is answering on the other end.

"Namjoon."

"Hey. Can we meet today to talk about what's been going on? I can be over in the next 15 minutes."

"I'm free, but I have a hard cut off in 45 minutes."

"That's plenty of time. I'll be there soon."

"See you." Joon hangs up and gathers his things, loosening his tie to get himself together for this meeting. He doesn't necessarily wanna do this, nor does he think he's ready for whatever the dean could unleash on him.

On you, on San.

But, he has a job to do and he'll make damn sure he gets his point across. He'll make damn sure he controls this well, and he'll make sure nothing happens to the both of you.

When he gets into the building and heads straight for the dean's office, he's greeted by the front desk and his executive assistant. The dean's assistant knocks on his door and pops her head in to give him a heads up about Namjoon's visit. It isn't long before she's gesturing for him to come into his office, stepping out and slowly shutting the door behind her once Namjoon's settled in the seat in front of him.

"Namjoon."

"Dean Louie." Namjoon clears his throat. "Can we discuss what's been going on? I've got a chance to review this more in depth."

"Great. So, tell me. What's with the anonymous tip? Is there truth behind San and his student's relationship?"

"No." The dean looks at him with his head cocked to the side. "Not at all."

"Namjoon. This isn't the time to play games."

"Who said I was?" Joon asks. "This is purely a rumor and there is nothing going on between the two of them. To keep things safe, I'll make sure they don't cross paths and interact on campus, and I'll make sure to work closely with her and keep her under my wing." Namjoon says.

"A rumor? That blew up around campus? What about Iseul and Yunho? Iseul told me about the happy hour event with San. All of this seems too good to be true, and if you're covering for them—" Namjoon cuts him off.

"Since when did Iseul and Yunho have their best interest in San? All I know is that they've always been the driving issue, not San." Namjoon looks at the dean confused. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a rumor is a rumor and I've gotten to the bottom of it. I talked to the both of them and they denied it through and through. The only reason why San got caught up in the whole happy hour business was because a postdoc was crossing the line and being really disrespectful to her. Any one of us would've done it had we caught it right away like San did." Namjoon continues to furrow his brows. "Now, please. I'd appreciate if we can move on." The dean sits back and lets out a hefty sigh.

"Go on."

"As stated in my email, she will do her rotation presentation in front of myself, you and San. After that, she will be removed from his lab and will be placed in mine. We'll have weekly check-ins, and I'll work with her to move her classes around and realign her priorities so that she and San don't cross paths in this program again."

"And what about this real estate in the building? I'm not going to give it over if this is what San plans to do—"

"I'm sorry, but this shouldn't define San and his work." Namjoon pauses. "He's not, alright? I already confirmed it was a rumor and there is nothing going on. No reason for you to pull back on that real estate deal especially when Jongho had nothing to do with this either and San has already explained his side and agreed to comply regardless. She'll be out of his lab." The dean gives Namjoon a stern look.

"You better make damn sure this doesn't happen again, Namjoon. No rumors, no slip ups. And you make sure those three stop causing trouble on campus. Iseul, Yunho and San. I don't care who did what and who is blaming who, I need this to stop. Now. We can't have childish, petty issues running amuck on this campus."

"You have my word."

"If I hear San and Y/N in the same sentence again, I can't promise it will be the same outcome."

"With all due respect, I need you to understand that whatever they do, whatever happens off campus, doesn't concern me and shouldn't concern you either. I cannot police their behavior and make them act a certain way off grounds. They are both grown, mature adults that can make decisions on their own, and you know that's unfair and very unrealistic." The dean doesn't say much. He mutters a few things under his breath before he's returning his attention to Namjoon.

"Not a damn word about them ever again, Namjoon. I mean it." The dean warns him again before settling into his seat and returning his attention to his desktop computer. Namjoon does a quick, silent bow before walking out, sighing loudly to himself as he's finally gotten that over with.

Still doesn't make it any easier knowing he had his friend make a very difficult decision that he did not wanna do.

He hopes in time, this could blow over and San could be happy again. Despite this hurdle, he's betting on it. On you and him.

Maybe when you come back together, circumstances will be different enough that it won't make the relationship seem as bad as it does right now.

"Shit." Namjoon clicks his teeth when he finally gets out of the building and breathes in the fresh air. He is exhausted, but his day isn't about to be over, no. On his way back to his office, he finds Yunho speaking to a few colleagues in the courtyard. He must have gotten out of a meeting and was walking his visitors out.

And Namjoon doesn't give a fuck. That visit is ending now.

"Professor Kim! It's an honor to see you in the flesh!" Namjoon smiles at his guests before returning the favor.

"Hi there." Namjoon does a curt bow. "Hope you've enjoyed your visit."

"Completely. We had a great collaboration meeting with Professor Jeong here, and he gave us a tour around."

"That's great, yeah." Namjoon smiles before looking at Yunho. "Can we talk in my office?" Namjoon says near Yunho's ear. "Now?"

"Sure." Yunho bids his last farewell before excusing himself and following Namjoon straight to his office. No words being spoken or shared. Namjoon shuts the door and sighs, looking at Yunho with his hand on his hip. "What's going on, Joon?"

"I'm just trying to understand why you and Iseul are trying so hard to ruin that man's reputation. The dean told me Iseul went over there to give him more of her little intel on San."

"I don't know what she said or did—"

"You still knew about it, didn't you?" Namjoon looks at him. "You knew this whole time Iseul was trying to raise hell about this and you let her."

"How is this not wrong?"

"No one said it wasn't wrong, Yunho!" Namjoon raises his tone. "There were just better ways to go about it than throwing San's name out there the way you two did. Just throwing him out there to the wolves without even knowing the full story. That's the problem!"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like it now, but we were looking out for him and everyone else potentially involved."

"Except me. If you knew better, you both would've let me handle this accordingly. This doesn't just affect him, Yunho. It affects you both. It affects me. It affects Y/N, Jongho, everyone. Because you both didn't know how to be discreet about your plans to bring San down."

"It was never like that!"

"Then, what was it like? Tell me. As his colleague, as someone who acted purely for their own benefit, what was it like? As San's ex-bestfriend, what was it like?" Yunho doesn't respond. "This isn't high school, Yunho. I'm sorry, but the both of you need to grow up."

"We just tried to do the right thing and I don't take any of it back. If you fail to see that, then that's on you—"

"Oh, so approaching the dean to give him more talk in his ear with your so-called evidence before coming to me is doing the right thing?" Namjoon looks at him. "What was the goal here? What did this plan look like to you and Iseul?” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I don't wanna hear it, she already came into my office to talk my ear off about this. That should've been enough to let me handle it." Namjoon furrows his brows at him. 

"We just thought we were helping everyone—"

"Helping? Yourself or Iseul?" Namjoon shakes his head. "You know what, this is done. The damage is done. So, thank you and Iseul for your generous help." Yunho sighs. "Now that you've done all the talking, it's my turn." Joon steps closer to him. "As long as I'm around, I'll continue to keep the peace in this department, and that means I don't want you and Iseul meddling in San's personal matters ever again." Namjoon's jaw ticks as he and Yunho stare at each other in the brief pause that falls between them. "I don't want you meddling in Y/N's personal matters, I don't want you two doing anything on this campus besides running your labs and minding your own goddamn business. Do you understand me?" Namjoon places his hands on his hips while he and Yunho maintain eye contact. Yunho swallows thickly before nodding, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Yes sir."

"The next time you and Iseul wanna act like I don't know how to do my job, I promise I'll be good with reminding you."

—read 14.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[pythonmoth]

Nanami Kento x Reader (gn)

workaholic nanami kento. soulmates au, just a one shot. might add a second part at some point in life.

note: this was my dream, literally. wrote it down in like five minutes bc it was fresh in my head, and now it's a one shot.

First | Next

Nanami's never been against soulmates, really, he's just... old for that. He's always busy with work and, even if he wanted to, he never has the time to look for his soulmate's mark. His is pretty simple, a splash of green with pink across his forearm —if that's the reason why he wears long sleeved shirts, that's his business—, so he only has to briefly look at people's forearms to know if they're his soulmate or not, never spending much time thinking about it.

He likes being on his own, or with his old friends and his family; he's not a hermit at all. Nanami often reads at home or at the public library, where he feels comfortable surrounded by strangers reading in silence, away from the rushed life outside; so imagine his surprise when he's distracted by someone bumping onto the table, cursing quietly as people look up at them. Nanami's eyes shift up, only a little annoyed by the interruption, hearing some mumbled grunts from the rest and then a soft apology. Nanami can't even blink, though, because he's too busy staring at you. 

You look in a hurry, rushing to the front door with a few books in your arms. Nanami will sigh to himself later on and admit he should've thought about it better, because he immediately rushes up, carelessly bookmarking the page as he tries to catch up with you, but you get in a car and drive away before Nanami can even get a good glimpse of your face, his chest aching. The air outside instantly slaps some sense into his brain and knows he can't possibly chase after you. Nanami blinks and rubs his face before going back into the library, feeling awkward and ridiculous.

Sitting back at the table, he just can't focus. And now he feels incredibly awful for his soulmate, whoever it is.

He knows that being someone's soulmate doesn't mean he's forced to be romantically involved with them, but that was the expectation for most people, so, what if you already had someone else? What if he did talk to you, and he found his soulmate after that? What if you both found your soulmate and he was left with whatever feelings are now filling his chest?

He gets up and sets the book back, forcing his mind to be blank as he drives home, not even caring to turn on the radio as usual. Nanami can't help but feel embarrassed of himself, getting so into it when he doesn't even know you. 

Maybe he should listen to Satoru —that is a new low for him—, and actually go out someday. And he will.

Really.

One day, when he has the time.

For now, his days go by as always.

Nanami works, and works, and works, and reads and eats, and works. He keeps looking for you at the library because he knows you will have to return the books at some point, but you don't show up during the first week.

And the second week, you don't come back.

Not for the third week.

Nor the fourth.

By the end of the month, Nanami's silently given up, mostly because he can't remember what you look like anymore. He tries to remember your embarrassed expression, the tone of your voice when you apologized, which books you got, or even what your hair looked like, but nothing comes to him. So, Nanami has accepted that he might not even recognize you if you ever come back. It's not like—

"Excuse me, is there's another copy of the book you're reading?" a voice asks quietly to his side, soft enough not to disturb the rest of the people at the table.

Nanami's skin tingles as the timber of your voice registers in his mind. He looks up and stares. He feels in a daze, as if drunk, too distracted paying attention to the shape of your nose, your eyes and the way your lips curl up in a soft smile, to realize your expression changes from shyness to embarrassment. He watches you rub the back of your neck. 

"Sorry", you say, giving him a flustered nod and taking a step back.

Nanami reacts before he realizes what he's doing, once again not thinking, and reaches out to gently grip your forearm in an attempt to stop you, standing up to look you in the eye. His heart pounds so hard he can hear the blood rushing to his ears.

"There's no other copy", Nanami manages, his tone quiet, closing the book with a hand and placing it in yours. "You can take it. I've read it before, so it's fine".

You look at him with surprise, something making your eyes twinkle, and Nanami doesn't understand but he can't look away. He can't question it because he's staring, again. Your hair smells like coconut, and there's something shiny on your lips —is it lip balm? is it his imagination or does it smell like watermelon?—, and your eyes are so glassy he can see himself in them. 

"Oh. Thank you", you mumble, your gaze shifting to his eyes and then down at the book in your hands, seemingly not caring for the hand gripping onto you.

Nanami's too busy drinking in your presence, thinking he must have run out of luck for the rest of his life if he got to see you again, that he doesn't realize your eyes are fixated on his covered forearms for a few moments.

He finally blinks when he sees your lips moving, catching the word a little late, barely breathing as he looks at you.

Nanami thinks of it as a win when you chuckle soundlessly.

"That's my name", you say quietly, looking amused, and holding out your hand for him. Only then does Nanami realize he's still gripping your forearm and lets go, his embarrassment cut off short when he sees your smile.

"Nanami Kento", he introduces himself, shaking your hand.

You both stand there in silence for a few moments, and then you let out a soft chuckle, making some people look up from their books. Nanami couldn't care less about them, his eyes completely fixed on you. He's very aware that neither of you have let go.

"Nanami, what are you doing tonight?"

this was fun. it's been sitting in my drafts since I came back to tumblr so! im not planning on making a full fic on it, maybe just another part to show you how they're doing.

i love nanami

that's all, thanks ♡

little taglist of the people that were interested: @an-ever-angry-bi @ssssssws-world @a-hidden-gem ty♡

♡

if you're new to my blog and you like CoD Simon "Ghost" Riley, I've got two fics you might like:

Traitor series

Never Gonna Be Alone

[suzieloveships]

Cybertron Pre-Sentinel's betray

AKA High Guard x B99 au [1/?]

Base on my previous post

Starscream: That's how we do it in the HG, sir. Fight bad guys and look good doing it ------ Shockwave: Could you make TC stop doing that weird thing with his face? Skywarp: Crying? ------ Starscream: Let's go! Chest bump me! Soundwave: You don't want to do this Starscream: No, I really do Soundwave: It hurts you every time Starscream: No, I know, but I'm fired up. The adrenaline is gonna carry me through. Here we go! [They chest-bump, and Soundwave effortlessly knocks Star to the floor] ------ [Megatronus enters the room with his wrist is in a splint] Starscream: Whoa. What's with the cast? Megatronus: I sprained my wrist. Skyfire: Oh no, what happened? Megatronus: Don't worry about it, I'm fine. Starscream: Yeah, Primus, Sky. Back off. Leave the guy alone [he cranes his neck to check if Prime is out of earshot] All right, huddle up, everyone. Bring it in, bring it in. So he wouldn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing. Skywarp: He's in a fight club. Starscream: No. He did it doing something he's embarrassed by. Like smiling. Only question is how do you hurt your arm smiling. Thundercracker: Could be a sports injury Megatronus: Attention, everyone! I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office. I tripped over un uneven sidewalk. I did not think it was relevant to your jobs, the jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work. Megatronus to Starscream once everyone in gone: Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist? Starscream: Yes. Megatronus: I was hula hooping. Prima and I attend a class for fitness and for fun. Starscream: Oh, my Primus. Megatronus: I've mastered all the moves. Starscream: Why are you telling me this? Megatronus: Because no one will ever believe you. Starscream: You sick son of a glitch. ------ Starscream: So how'd you convince the whole squad to betray me? What'd you offer them? Megatronus: I asked them if they wanted to embarrass you, and they instantly said yes ------ Skywarp: Oh, no. Despite what I've been saying for years, that aft just might quit ------ Shockwave: Come on, sir, the math thing isn't the problem. The war is keeping you and Prima apart. You two just need to bone. Skyfire: [chuckles nervously] Megatronus: What did you say? Skyfire: Don't say it again. Shockwave: I said you two need to bone. Skyfire: [whimpers] Megatronus: How dare you, General Shockwave. I am your Prime! Megatronus: Bone! Megatronus: What happens in my berthroom is none of your business. Megatronus: BONE?! Megatronus: Don't ever speak to me like that again. ------ Shockwave: So Starscream's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing? [to Skyfire] You did this to him ------ Megatronus: I wanna show you a picture from last night that really upset me. Starscream: Okay, but in my defense, Shockwave bet me 50 shanix that I couldn't drink all that shampoo. Megatronus: That's not what I wanted to- You drank shampoo? Starscream: What? No. You're the one farting bubbles. ------ Megatronus: Please, keep an eye on Thundercracker today. He’s going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and get himself punched. Skywarp: Sure, I would love to see Thundercracker get punched. Megatronus: Try again. Skywarp: I mean I will stop TC from getting punched. ------ Starscream: This is where we came the night we pass our first big exam and you fell in love with me. Skyfire: Star. Starscream: The night you flirted with me for twenty klicks and I became obsessed with you forever. ------ Thundercracker: Life is a party and I’m the piñata. ------ Soundwave: You could've died.  Starscream: The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the energon is supposed to be ------ Soundwave, holding kitten!Ravage: Prime was right. I've been so worried about my own kid, I forgot about my stupid grown-up kids [points at the seekers] Starscream: That's insulting ------ Thundercraker: Sexy train is leaving station, check out this caboose. Later sluts Everyone: Starscream: Just let him have it

[enlyume]

Not so secret

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Steve accidentally finds out why Bucky insisted on him taking a day off.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Notes: This is Bucky x female reader, but with Steve's POV. AU with no superpowers. Also, English is not my first language :)

Being the owner of your own gym comes with a few pros and a lot of cons. The pros? You knew a lot of people - and women - you could make your own schedule and choose your own staff and as a personal trainer you could stay fit. Cons: You had to put up with clients complaining about the self-defence classes being too difficult, your colleagues flirting with their wives, and you being on call 24/7 with no holidays. But, so far, Steve was enjoying his gym life.

Two and a half years of surviving in Brooklyn seemed like a success, so he could choose how to spend his first free day in a long time. Clean his apartment, go to his mother's house to help her with some water-related problems, go for a run and do some shopping. He could already hear Bucky, Natasha and Sam saying that this was far from a free day, but he didn't care.

He knew Bucky would scoff and swear he would never give him another day off, but looking at his now full fridge, he felt happy. So happy that he thought he could at least give his friends the satisfaction of a night off drinking. Maybe not until he got really drunk, because the next day was Friday and he had to open the gym, but still.

So he called Bucky, and when he didn't pick up the phone, he tried Natasha.

"I can't believe you wasted your first day off in months running errands. We are not friends anymore," she said, and Steve could picture her sitting on her couch, the TV on a murder mystery, her eyes narrowed. "That's not what Buck and I work our asses off for, Rogers!" she complained.

"Hey, I can do whatever I want with my free time. And, how do you know that?!" he asked, looking around for a hidden camera. His friends wouldn't spy on him, would they?

"I know everything," she whispered and Steve felt the urge to hang up and go and read. "OK, what's up? Are you taking off again tomorrow to help your neighbour redecorate?"

"I was thinking about going out for a drink with my friends, seeing as it's not that late, but I'm rethinking my life choices right now and I'm not so sure anymore."

"Don't be a drama queen, Stevie. Give me five, the bar next to my place".

"It'll take me more than five minutes to get there, Nat".

"Yeah, OK, you've got eight. Call the boys, I call the girls?" She asked and didn't need to elaborate. Natasha, Buck, Sam and himself were a team in and out of the gym. And since she finished college, and came back to Brooklyn, Becca usually joined them with her roommate Y/n.

"I already called Buck, but he didn't pick up. I'll try again," he replied, grabbing the keys and leaving his apartment. It wasn't that big, but living alone was more than enough and it was only a block away from the gym. That saved him the daily traffic jam.

He shrugged under his jacket, wishing it was summer, and walked down the street.

"Let me know if he doesn't pick up. I'll try," Natasha said, and Steve could hear her moving around her flat, getting ready.

"What makes you think he'll answer your call but not mine?" he sneered, smirking. Bucky had been pretty insistent about hiring Natasha, and although they flirted sometimes, it had never become anything serious. Or so he thought.

"He will," was her brief reply. Steve rolled his eyes and turned the corner. His eyes automatically drifted to the gym and he paused, frowning. The lights were on, but it was past closing time. "Hey, gotta go. See you in ten".

"Eight!" was the last thing he heard Natasha say before he hung up.

Steve crossed the street and tried the front door, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it locked. So Bucky wasn't there and hadn't left the gym open, he'd just forgotten to turn off the lights. He used the keys to get inside and went to his office to turn off all the lights from there, but stopped in the doorway when he saw Bucky's jacket and helmet on the table. His friend was still there? Past closing time? The blond left the office and went to the stairs, climbing them two at a time and heading for the only room where the lights were still on. Maybe Bucky had fallen and hurt himself, or maybe he had fainted, or maybe…

"That's not the way to use it, doll."

Doll. Doll. Steve narrowed his eyes, already angry with Bucky. When he'd offered to do the afternoon shift that Thursday too, on the pretext that he'd worked a lot and deserved a day off to rest, Steve hadn't been suspicious. It wasn't the first time Bucky had suggested it, and he'd had to get his house in order and run a few errands, so he'd accepted without question. And Bucky had smirked. He hadn't thought about it at the time, but now the smile had taken on a new meaning.

Emma, the student who had started Natasha's self-defence classes a month ago, immediately came to mind. Or it could be April, the recently divorced woman. She always laughed at his jokes, even when they weren't that funny, and stroked his arm openly. Steve opened his eyes wide. It could also be Peggy, making good on his threat.

"If you don't ask her out soon, I will, punk," he had told him a few times when Steve's eyes lingered on the door of the classroom Peggy had just entered. He took a deep breath, gripped the door handle and looked at the ceiling. Please don't let it be Peggy, he prayed. "Then tell me how it works."

Steve let go of the handle as if it were on fire. He knew that voice. It wasn't Peggy, but maybe it would have been better if it had been.

"Yeah, I'll pass. It's funnier to watch you try." Steve did not need to see his friend's face to know that he was smirking.

"Is that why you wanted me to come, to laugh at me?" She didn't mean it maliciously, because if there was one thing she knew about Y/N, it was that she wouldn't say anything to offend.

Steve tried to remember if he had seen her at the gym before. She was at the opening, sure, and she visited from time to time, but had she tried a class? He remembered Bucky telling her to leave because she was against the dress code. Y/N always gave the same answer: her gym clothes were just for posting photos on her social media.

"I wanted you to come so I could be alone with you. I missed you."

"We saw each other at Nat's last Sunday," she chuckled.

"Yes, but I couldn't…"

Steve knew he shouldn't, but curiosity took the best of him and he pushed the door just a little, so he could see them. Y/N was standing next to the treadmill and Bucky was holding her cheeks while he kissed her. He couldn't help but be surprised, because even though he knew what he was about to see, he didn't expect to see exactly that. His friend getting into trouble, kissing his younger sister's best friend? Yes. Bucky pulling away from her just enough to reach down and wrap his arms around her waist, filling her face with kisses, both of them laughing and whispering words in each other's ears? No. Because this didn't look like an affair. The smile on his friend's face as he listened intently to what she was telling him gave away that this was anything but a simple affair.

The sound of a mobile phone interrupted them and for a few seconds Steve thought it was his and he was going to get caught, but Bucky let go of Y/N and picked up his phone from the floor. "Hey Nat, what's up?"

Bucky turned, his back to the door, and Steve looked at Y/N. She had sat down on the workbench again and was trying to lift the weights without success. Bucky immediately gestured for her to let go and she obeyed, still smiling.

"I'd love to, but I've worked my ass off today and I'm dead. I'm going to bed," Bucky said to Natasha, declining her offer to join them for a drink.

Y/N held out her hand and Bucky took it, intertwining his fingers with hers and letting her pull on it, trying not to laugh. "Hmm, tempting, but I'll pass," Bucky said again. "Night, Nat."

He hung up and dropped the phone on the floor before standing over T/N. Steve took that as his cue and stepped back, not wanting to see any more. A low moan made him rush downstairs and out of the gym, closing the door carefully behind him. Bucky and Y/N. Y/N and Bucky. They were… what were they? Should he ask? He wanted to know and at the same time he didn't.

He walked on until he reached the bar and forced a smile when Sam held up his hand and waved at him. Natasha was next to him and Becca in front of them, a beer in her hand and laughing at something the redhead was telling her. And a new fear hit him: did Becca know?

"Took you longer than ten minutes, Rogers! You're paying next!" Natasha joked with her trademark smile. Steve nodded slowly as he sat down next to the younger Barnes.

"You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost," Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. Steve ignored him and turned to Becca.

"Where's Y/N? Is she coming?"

He wondered if he was being too direct. He could have made some small talk before asking about her, or maybe he should have asked about his brother first. But he needed to know if Becca knew about her best friend and Bucky. The brunette rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"She already had plans with her colleagues."

"Why? They're not as fun as us," Sam complained.

"And your brother?" Steve asked again and Becca tilted her head. "I called him, but he didn't pick up."

"He said he was tired," Natasha said, a smirk on her lips. "But from his tone, I bet he's with a girl."

"What?! He ditched us for a girl?" Sam complained again. "He deserves to work all weekend, Steve."

"I don't know, Sam," Steve murmured, looking down at his hands. He remembered Bucky's smile, Y/N's laugh and them holding hands. His best friend saying how much he missed them. And then he remembered that Y/N didn't work weekends. "He's been working a lot lately. I think he deserves a weekend off."

"Whaaaat?"

Their friends started talking at the same time. Sam was whining again, while Natasha and Becca were plotting how to ruin Bucky's weekend. Steve stood up, smiling.

"OK, next round's on me!"

[thatmaxcontent]

Wanna hear about my Wilted Flower/Dried Flower Lansoni AU? No? YOU FOOL, YOU READ THE FIRST LINE, NOW YOU MUST CONTINUE, MUEHEHE!!!

[Also forgive any spelling mistakes I am writing this 100% by memory so like the names might be painfully incorrect]

[ ~ ☆ ~ ]

So after Sonic restored peace and became King Merlina tried to send him back, but for some reason the universe didn't let him leave. The world itself refused to let him go. He, of course, thought nothing much of it- things always went his way in the end, right? They would find a way! Until then he'd take the role of the King, even if that sheltered superiority wasn't his style...

In fact, as good a King as he was, he often tried escaping duties in the beginning. He often fled and flew free without a guard by his side, he never announced his departure. That's the way he always lived, unbothered and free! What, he was supposed to be in a bed every evening suddenly? Sit still on a throne and do nothing but pass his word, entertain the court, blandly every single day? As if!

That is, until one night. He figured out his earlier absence had resulted in the death of a family starving- he wasn't there to pass his words or actions of help. He wasn't there to hear the people, to rule the people... his people.

He ran away in the night. Denial, no one would look for him. They would find someone suitable for the role, someone who could live that lifestyle. Because Sonic the Hedgehog could not. So he was absent for a week. Almost two. And he thought, by Chaos he thought.

Everyone in the castle was in full panic. The people weren't told of the King's absence, decisions- no matter how crucial- were placed on the waiting list. In those days there was ruin, there was so, so much dread. Percival, Gawain and Lancelot did not rest, not a blink more than necessary, and finally, finally, they found him.

They found Sonic, looking rougher than ever, distressed, but dear Chaos he was so beautiful.

"My Liege!" Lancelot called out, followed by no less relieved, hurried voices of the other Knights of The Roundtable. Sonic heard them, though he could barely stand. Sonic, who slept his whole life outside, was sleep-deprived in nature. That carefree expression he tried to pull conveyed only exhaustion.

"My Liege, you must tell us what happened!" Percival ushered. "Who has hurt you in such a way?!" Gawain demanded answer. "My Liege, who is responsible for this act of treason? What creature stole you, harmed you so?"

He opened his mouth, but he only rubbed the back of his neck. He lowered his head, visibly uncomfortable. Hint taken, the Knights backed down the questions.

"We shall catch the culprit soon, however we simply must get you back to the castle. Please, allow us to escort you,"

"Indeed, the Kingdom needs you desperately. A lot has happened in your absence, the people yearn for you my Liege,"

"Once we return we shall get to solving this horrid crime right away!"

Sonic was supported in his step by Lancelot, he sat behind him on his horse as they departed towards the castle.

He could only sigh. It was true. The people needed a King, they needed their King. Sonic, Arthur... the people needed him, his people needed him.

But it was so foreign.

That next night he managed sleep on the bed, guarded by Lancelot and Percival the whole time. So it would be for a long time after this incident, though Sonic's carefree nature still prevailed in many aspects for the first time ever he sat on that throne and stayed there. He took on his neglected duties, worked at them until exhaustion, and finally after some days everything was caught up.

Day by day the King's reputation kept bumbling brightly. A man first known as fast-paced yet strong-willed, then fair in all aspects, then empathetic, then compassionate, then kind. Day by day his glow grew so strong, his face softened, his look regal, untouchable, overworldly.

It had been a year since he became King. Specks of war began baring their heads. No longer able to negotiate, a near-nation decided to speak by blade.

The Knights, their troops, the Kingdom were in a hurry, a layer of pressure killing them slowly.

But suddenly... suddenly peace was negotiated after all, with seemingly no war. But no, the troops had been readied, everyone was prepared... there were only few people who knew what had happened. The King, The Knights of The Roundtable and the survivors.

All by his lonesome the King showed up on the battlefield, gaining endless scratches, wounds, yet he stood in the middle of a massacre. Not by want, by will. By virtue. By obligation. Shocked, but not afraid. The Knights saw Sonic, the smug impulsive man, on the battlefield. But once the white flag was raised Sonic was dead once more, and Arthur was born again.

Negotiations of peace suddenly got a lot easier for the King. He made connections, built trust, always extended a helping hand, and if ever met by betrayal the fate of disgrace was written in blood.

He didn't want this. None of him wanted this. But he had to do it. No matter what he wanted he had to, because he had duties, he had obligations, he had people depending on him, the whole world watching him, and for the first time ever Sonic the Hedgehog was nowhere to be seen. Arthur was sensitive, emotional, strong in battle, stronger in virtue, always equal, always there, with his calming aura and serene face, slow movements and listening ears. Hands that made hope out of thin air, Arthur was the dream. Everyone loved him, he was the greatest King to ever exist, to ever cross the world. He was so beautiful. He was so radiant. Everyone loved him.

Everyone except Sonic.

Sonic made it hard for him to accept it, be at peace with it. Because he yearned for freedom, for impulsivity, for speed, for carelessness. He yearned for his home, his life. He yearned for Sonic the Hedgehog.

Three years into his rule, of course his three most loyal Knights had noticed. They knew since the beginning, but they could see it day by day. Their King, their Arthur. He was so distressed, they wanted to help. But he was so, so incredibly breathtaking. A sight so gorgeous fictional faes would gasp and swoon just at the thought of him. He was perfect. But he was miserable.

The Knights entrusted Lancelot to the task of keeping sight on the King since the beginning, overtime he became his main safe-space. Lancelot saw him in ways even the other two had not. It became known that the King needed constant breaks, even during trivial matters, throughout the day. He was easily exhausted, sentimental, even melancholy. A husk on the inside, as good as God on the outside. A dried flower, forever beautiful, frozen in its suffering. A wilted flower, no longer who he used to be.

Arthur was a soft man, who accepted the castle, accepted the duty, accepted the people, accepted his life. But he was still Sonic.

So one night, one fateful night, Sonic broke down in front of his most trusted Knight once again.

"I just... I can't, I don't..." He struggled breathing. Tears in his eyes, body shaking, already seated on his bed. Many a time he had broken to rambles, to tears, to non-verbal states of not being able to even voice his aching heart, something he never, never, never wished to do, yet did so frequently. He tried to calm, as always. Sir Lancelot knelt in front of him, as always.

"... He isn't me, Lancelot," He had said it so many times. "I want to be me, I want to be out there, I want to live," He gripped the sheets. "But I just can't do that here, can I? They would suffer, they would die..." He drooped his head. "Chaos... I feel like I'm dying,"

"My Liege," Lancelot dared not to look. "To see you suffer so is a fate worse than torture, to know our efforts have done opposite to intent... I am truthfully, deeply sorry for this burden you bear,"

He could hear him sigh. Dry his tears and sniffle. "Know if there is a single thing we may do to enhance your comfort it shall be done," He could see him, the way he extended one of his hands. The Knight lifted metal, exposing his face to candlelight. Gentle, careful hands, like those handling a baby bird, cradled his. He brought that soft fur to his lips, a modest, dedicated kiss planted on.

"... Thank you, Sir Lancelot," As he was about to let his hand go peach fur gripped smooth metal tighter. "But you can't bring me home. No one can," His tone so defeated, he was disappointed in what he'd become. But Lancelot, he kept holding his hand as per request. He didn't understand, but he knew the jist. He knew what he meant, and he wished only for him to feel a spasm of happiness among them.

"This is your home, my Liege," He rubbed the back of his hand intimately. He felt disgusting, he was such a brute, how he was enjoying it so, how he took pleasure in knowing he was the only who knew the King so well. Even among the three. He planted another kiss. "You have made it a haven for many. We shall do our all to make it one for you,"

Arthur looked down at him... but Sonic was the one who laid the order. Arthur was the one who spoke to him, but Sonic was the one who made the decision. And before he knew it he requested his Knight's lips up his arm, to his neck, to his lips. Lancelot, he felt like the Devil, he had dreamed and scolded himself. Yet it had come true, and as the most loyal Knight who was he to refuse?

No one else ever got to know. Not that they tried to hide. But Arthur, he was a loyal man. And Sonic, he happened to find something of a haven in him.

So nearly four years into his successful rule Arthur looked himself in the mirror.

"You know... I think I'm finally starting to feel at home here," His constant soft smile, drooped friendly eyes followed his own movement.

"That is most pleasing to hear, my Liege. May I inquire on your thoughts further?" Lancelot stood tall, faithful, observant some distance away.

"There's not much more to it, really. I just woke up one day and went "Huh. This doesn't feel completely alien anymore", so yeah. Maybe I finally accepted I can't go back, though..." His shrug turned to a closed stance.

"I admit, even if it was awkward at first, having acommodations and you three Knights as stable companions has been..." He closed his eyes. "... Comforting, I'd say,"

Lancelot stared.

He was so, so beautiful when he said it all.

He was so, so beautiful.

He was so, so radiant.

He was the sun.

But he was still unhappy.

Though he vowed to change it... it was much more than a simple vow by now. It was a mission. It was his salvation, he needed to make him happy. Even if for a little while.

He was the light, even if inside it was dark.

Royal, reliable, loving, lovable, the perfect King.

Everyone loved him, even those who knew.

Everyone loved him, like a dried flower.

Though he could never love Arthur...

Could he?

[ ~ ☆ ~ ]

SO YEAH THAT'S JUST TO GIVE Y'ALL SOME LITTLE TASTY TASTIES THIS AU HAS RUINED ME IN THE TWO AND A HALF DAYS I'VE HAD IT I LOVE IT SO DEARLY AND DEPRESSED ARTHUR SONIC IS DEFINITELY ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS EVER AAAAAAAAA

[imagineaspen]

Another prompt fill: Secret Garden

This is basically a 'Sheik works for Ganondorf like in the manga' OOT AU

The first time Zelda saw him in her garden, she was filled with rage.  He had already taken everything from her, and now this too?  Would he rip up the flowers she had planted with her father and Impa as a girl?  The final desecration of the castle that used to be her home.  He’d already changed so much about Hyrule Castle that she found herself getting lost at times when she wandered its halls.

Ganondorf looked up from where he knelt by the ground and promptly got to his feet.  He narrowed his eyes.

“Sheik,” he said.

“My king,” she responded steadily. “I apologize for intruding.”

The first several times he had addressed her, it had filled her with panic.  Does he know? she would ask herself; it would take all of her willpower to prevent herself from trembling.  Does he know that I am Hylian?  Does he know that I am a woman?  Does he know that I am Zelda?

But as the weeks turned to months and nothing happened, she had begun to relax into this role.  Sometimes it felt as though Sheik was real, and Zelda was the lie.

“Do you have news for me?”  Ganondorf asked.

“I have scoured Kakariko Village, my king,” she replied.  “If Princess Zelda or her attendant were ever hiding there, they are there no longer.”

Ganondorf’s eyes flashed with frustration, but he merely sighed.  “Very well,” he said.  “Come see me in the throne room later; I have another task for you.”

“Yes, my king,” she said, then hesitated.  

“Is there something else?”

“No, my king, I was only wondering…”  She swallowed.  “What were you doing when I came in?”

There was silence for a moment as he frowned at her.

“I believe you were dismissed,” he said, and she flushed.

“Apologies,” she said, then fled.

Later, once she was certain he had gone, she snuck back into the garden to find the flower beds intact, watered and weeds freshly pulled.  Ganondorf, she was suddenly certain, had not been ripping them up at all.  He had been tending to them.

***

She continued to sneak into the garden as often as she dared, surprised and confused each time that the plants were so well kept. 

This is ridiculous, she told herself.  You are Sheik, not Zelda.

Sheik did not care for sentimental things like flowers.  He cared only for avenging the royal family that he served, even if that required temporarily following the man he hated more than any other.  He was strong, capable.  He had never been so stupid to have hatched the plan that had led to this.

Zelda had ruined everything.  She was not needed.  And yet, in this garden, it was her that emerged.

Ganondorf had added new plants since she had last been here.  Tall and thin, with small pink flowers growing off the lush green stem.  Pretty, she thought.

“Don’t think that I don’t know about all the time you spend here.”  His voice, as though her thoughts had summoned him.

Zelda startled.  “My king,” she said.

“There is very little that occurs in this castle that I do not know about,” Ganondorf said, stepping into the garden.     

“I apologize, my king, I –”

“It’s fine, Sheik,” said Ganondorf.  He approached her, then looked down at the flowers she was leaning over.  

“I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” Zelda said, tentatively turning to glance at him.  She waited, watching him in silence.

“Warm safflina,” Ganondorf said abruptly.  “They grow only in the desert.”

Zelda blinked, surprised; she had not expected him to answer. “Oh?”

Ganondorf looked away, gritting his teeth.  “Something…  to remind me of home,” he said, so softly she could scarcely hear it.  

She stared, not believing what she was hearing.  He must have been in quite the sentimental mood, to speak of his homeland.   Before she could think twice, she asked a question; one she had been considering for some time now but had not dared speak aloud.

“Why have you not had your people move to Castle Town, my king?”

He frowned.   Zelda smiled, and added, carefully, “Surely you do not enjoy looking out onto rubble every day; perhaps it is time to rebuild.  You have said that the desert is harsh, my king; perhaps –”

“I cannot,” he interrupted.  “Not yet.”

“My king?”

“I cannot,” he said, suddenly fierce.  “Until I know that this won’t be taken from me!”  He whirled on her.   “That is why I need you to find the Princess, Sheik.  Her, and that forest boy!”

“I am trying, my king,” she said.  “I’ve been to the forest, and there is no –”

“Then try harder!” he snarled, chest heaving.  He closed his eyes, clenching his right hand into a fist.  “It isn’t enough,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, she thought.  “I need to be stronger, to be better, to…”   

He raised his head to look at her again, and Zelda felt that familiar fear rear up in her.  He knows.  He knows that I am Zelda; he knows that I have Wisdom; he knows –

“Leave, Sheik,” he said.

She should not leave him in this state.  If there was one thing she had learned about him, it was that Ganondorf alone with his thoughts was a dangerous thing indeed.

“My king,” she started, but he shook his head.

“Leave,” he repeated, nearly begging, and it was that which caused her to flee again.

***

The more time passed, the more erratic and paranoid Ganondorf’s behaviour became.  She found herself in the position of advisor as much as spy, spending much of her time talking him down from whatever insane plot he’d hatched to keep Hyrule in his clutches.  (“Let me speak with Darunia,” she’d begged only the past week.  “I will make him see reason, my king; this dragon plan goes too far!”)  He sunk deeper and deeper into his obsession with power and the Triforce, convinced he would lose Hyrule without it (he’d never said that word to her, but she knew what he wanted).

She often wondered why he seemed to listen to her, of all people, when she came to a realization: He has no one else.

He was a man alone, holed up in a castle surrounded by wreckage and monsters.  She did not think he had spoken to any of the Gerudo in months; he had mentioned once something about mothers, but she had never seen them here.  He was falling apart, and Zelda was desperately trying to hold him and her kingdom together until the hero returned.  And yet more and more she found herself thinking of the hero’s return with dread.

Ganondorf would learn, then, that his only confidant was a lie, and she worried it would break him completely.

Now she returned to the castle after a long stint in Zora’s Domain, and the first place she went was her garden – his garden, now.  He was there already, staring down at the soil with a defeated look in his eyes.  She followed his gaze.

The warm safflina were at his feet.  Brown and wilted.

“They are dead,” he said dully as she moved to stand beside him.

“I’m sorry, my king,” Zelda offered.  “It’s the climate; it is too humid here for desert flowers.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped, then let out a long breath.

“Sheik,” he said.  “Why do you follow me?”

She frowned, confused by the change of subject.

“The Royal Family of Hyrule have treated my people as slaves for generations,” she said.  “I would serve anyone who puts a stop to it.”

It was a rehearsed answer, fed to her by Impa (and so easily that Zelda had to wonder if her attendant saw truth in it).

Ganondorf let out a short laugh.  “And I am better?” he said shortly.  “You think that I do not consider snapping your neck every time that you come to me and tell me that you still have not found Princess Zelda?”

“Yet you have not,” Zelda said lightly.  “And so I must consider that to be an empty threat.”

He laughed again; his eyes were taking on a crazed gleam.  “I have ruined this kingdom,” he said, voice raising.  “The Gorons riot; the Zora are on the verge.  The capital is a broken shell.  The people live in fear.  And my people carry on without me.  They’ve never needed me.”

“My king, you–”

She cut herself off as he looked to her, giving her a savage smile.  “Shall I destroy you next, Sheik?”

Without waiting for an answer, he looked back at the dead flowers, the anger draining from him as quickly as it had appeared.   

“I just wanted,” he said quietly, “something that does not break with my touch.”

She took a step towards him.  He shook his head.

“Leave me,” he said.

Sheik would have obeyed.  He would consider this conversation evidence that Ganondorf was mad and needed to be deposed as soon as possible.

Zelda stayed.  She took another step to him, and rested a hand on his arm.  He looked down at her in surprise.

“I am here,” she said.  “Ganondorf.”

Neither of them said anything more.  But he did not move away.

Tomorrow, she thought, he would hate that he had shown her this weakness, would rage at her, or send her on a task that sent her far away.  And she would become Sheik once again, and hate him, and wish for the day the hero reappeared.

But for now, in this garden, she stayed and offered comfort to a man who, she was beginning to realize, loathed himself just as much as Sheik did Zelda.

[elise-the-blind]

So I’ve seen some artists show their idea of the next generation of Jak and Daxter aka the future kids Jak and his friends might have. Have you ever had thought about or drawn Jak and Keira kid and Tess x Dax kid?

ok, imma gonna have to admit something since this isn't the first times I've been asked this, but I actually have never made or had much interest in making fankids. I honestly dont know why I lack this brain chemical, with the amount of headcannons I come up with this should be right up my alley, but no.

But whatever, I'll think up as much as I can for this, just know that for my AU, its very unlikely these characters will be a part of any of it.

Damascus (son of Jak and Keira)

Named after Damas (because I think its funny). Grew up copying his dads constant scowl, but has never had an angry thought in his life. Took up his mums love of gadgets, focusing on precursor tech and will sneak around the monk temple for info (the monks are aware of this but dont mind, alittle confused on why he insists on sneaking in). Even though not mute he's still the least likely to speak out of all four. Was told a story about lurker sharks (probably told by Daxter) and now has a fear of the ocean.

Jak is very, VERY careful with what stories he tells his son and what lessons he might take from them and gives evil eyes to anyone who tries suggesting Damascus does the same hero stuff Jak did as a kid. Bro knows how badly all of that can go and does not want any of that for his son. A result of that is Damascus doesn't have a lot of experience with eco, only what he knows from Keira's family (green eco for first aid). He's only heard about light eco from the monks and he DEFINITELY doesn't know nadda about using dark eco. Damascus has only rarely seen the dark Jak, and always when he's in danger, so thinks of it just as "man my dad is so cool he can kick the butt of anyone that messes with me".

Has any of Jak's dark eco been passed on to Damascus? Something to ponder, I'm sure it wont affect him too badly.

The Triplets (Tess and Daxter's kids)

Cally (bow), Cash (piercings), Cade (gloves): They're the offspring of a sarcastic ego-filled furball and a gun manic bossbitch, you think any of them would be normal? no. All three are all different levels of shitshow, and are determined to make that everyone else's problem.

Cade is the honorary 'nerd' of the family, fixated on studying precursors and the worlds inner workings. Had an existential crisis at age 6 after thinking about whether or not they had any sort of human DNA from both their parents not being born an ottsel. He always follows Damascus around when he's snooping, making their own sworn oath of secrecy. Cade will sometimes ask his dad about dark eco which all of the time loops to "shit stings, stay out of it son." Once asked uncle Jak, got shut down real fast (bro you're giving your uncle Gol and Maia flashbacks pls stop he's too old for this).

Cash took the love of demolition from Tess and spends alot of time hanging around uncle Torn and aunt Ashelin learning about military mechanics and tactics used by the guard. She gets super hyped when hearing battle stories and sometimes pesters Damascus about anything his pa might have told him about metalheads. Because of the closeness Cash has with the leaders of Haven, she's one of the only kids that know in more detail about Jak's dark side and see's her uncle as a much more intimidating figure. She doesn't plan on telling Cade any of that despite his studies, she's alittle worried he'll get himself into trouble.

Cally got all the showboat center stage child energy from her dad, serving as the distraction for when the trio are doing crimes. Cally acts alot like 'Precursor Legacy' Daxter, always talking, always going for everyone's attention. Alot of that's an act of course, and Cally is often stuck running around making sure her siblings aren't caught in any mess or that the blame of any damage is shifted from them to someone else/her. Cally makes sure to involve Damascus in the chaos the three get into occasionally, even if he doesn't act interested. She once tired racing with Keira for the sake of fame, and while racing was dropped because of a fear of crashing, Cally is very skilled with vehicles and can speed across the city if she ever needs to get anywhere. She knows all secret paths in Haven and Spargus, if you're a target you will never get away, she will catch you.

Everyone takes part in keeping an eye on all of them (especially the triplets) but Sig makes sure that Damascus gets home safe each night, wouldn't want the past to repeat itself would we.

Pretty sure that's all I got. Maybe I'll do more with these guys if there's enough interest. Otherwise I'm back to comic stuff.

[sxdisteez]

☸ Dorm Series: Part- Eight | 최종호

| series masterlist | previous |

✦ summary: you and jongho decide to spend your day together playing your favorite video games. fun banter is a part of the fun until you take it too far. ✦ pairings: idol! boyfriend jongho x fem! reader ✦ genre: smut!, idol boyfriend au ✦ word count: 1.6 k ✦ warnings: smut!, dom jongho, reader doesn't like to lose, oral sex (m receive), punishment, rough jongho, face fucking, sloppy head, gagging, hand job, reader loves to be praised, face painting (with cum), slight hair pulling, praise kink, cussing from Jongho ✦ a/n: the end of ateez dorm series is here😭. this was my very first series it feels a bit bittersweet that it's over but I truly enjoyed writing and reading this. I hope you all enjoy it just as much as I did!💗

this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a realistic representation of any of the real people mentioned.

nsfw content below. 18+ - mdni

After weeks of planning with many failed attempts to see each other, you and Jongho finally found the right day to spend some quality time together. Since you were busy with your studies and he was in the middle of preparing for a new comeback it was harder for you both to see each other lately. So here you were sitting crossed legged in his bed, clutching the game controller tightly in your hand on the brink of winning in Mario Kart. 

“Ha! I win again!” You squeal happily, playfully sticking your tongue out at Jongho who’d only rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah yeah. I was going easy on you.” He replies.

“It’s okay to admit you lost fair in square. Three times in the row might I add.” You smile cheekily at him.

Rolling his eyes again, Jongho just shakes his head at your response refusing to feed into your delusion.

 “How about for the next round whoever loses has to do what the winner wants.” A mischievous grin takes over Jongho’s face.

“That’s fine I’m gonna win anyways. You’ll be calling me queen y/n for the rest of the month.” You respond with a smug look taking over your features.

“We’ll see about that.” Jongho mumbles to himself, his mind already set on playing the game properly to put you back in your place.

⬦⬥⬦

“What was all that you were saying?” Jongho laughs at the stunned look plastered on your face. He’d beat you in less than 5 minutes, giving you no room to even catch up with him.

“You cheated!” You whined not believing the results.

“How could I cheat babe? You saw me, I did nothing different.” 

“Whatever cheater. You only won one game so you’re still a loser.” You bite back, rolling your eyes refusing to accept defeat.

Jongho cocks his eyebrow at your words not liking the attitude you were giving him. He stands walking over to your sitting figure, a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

“Since I won it’s only right, you do what I want.” His hands grip your legs gently unraveling them, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. You peer up at him not knowing what crazy ideas were running through his head.

“You know babe, that mouth of yours always gets you in trouble. Do you know what happens to bratty girls who run their mouths? ” He tsks. You immediately cower at his words, remembering what Jongho had done the last time you did something that he’d deemed as bratty.

“I- I.” You stutter out completely lost for words feeling his heated gaze bore into your face.

“Shhhh. The only sound I want to hear is you choking on my dick.” He growls lowly, pulling you off the bed.

“B-but the members. T-they’re in the other room.” You stammer out stunned at his request.

“What they hear is all up to you sweetheart. Now kneel down.”

Without another word you position yourself comfortably on your knees between Jongho’s legs coming face to face with his already large bulge. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his briefs you pull them down bit by bit until they fall to his feet. His thick length springs forward, tip already slightly red showing his arousal. You couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of his cock, doing your best to prepare for whatever Jongho might do. Taking your time, you grip the base of his dick giving it a few tugs watching as small beads of precum spill from the slit. You quickly lick the essence before it could fall, a small moan sounding off at the taste. 

Jongho releases a breathy gasp at your actions waiting eagerly for your next movement. He watches carefully as your mouth fully engulfs around the head of his cock, sucking gently at the sensitive flesh. His knees buckle at the sight of your saliva trickling down his shaft, spreading with each stroke of your hand. Feeling impatient with your deliberately slow actions Jongho takes matters into his own hands.

“Move your hands.” he growls lowly. You remove your hand, eyes widen, feeling Jongho’s hands grip your head keeping you in place.

He forcefully thrusts into your mouth, his thick length gagging you in the process filling your mouth completely. Jongho stills his hips, relishing in how wet and warm it felt around him before pulling out fully. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s plunging his cock back into your mouth forcing it even deeper before. 

Your eyes close at the force, tears brimming your eyes, feeling his tip graze the back of your throat harshly. Jongho’s grip on your head tightens as he begins to fuck into your mouth. His strokes are rough and precise as he mercilessly uses your mouth for his own pleasure. 

“Shit. You feel so fucking good.” He mutters, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sensation.

You can’t help the muffled moan that spills from your mouth at his words, finally relaxing in his grasp with each thrust. Wanting to please him even more you hollow your cheeks, suctioning his cock perfectly. Jongho moans loudly from the sudden action, his hips bucking even more at how well you sucked his dick. 

“Keep doing that and you're gonna make me cum quick.” He groans, pulling out of your mouth. He watched as thick saliva spilled messily down your mouth, covering your shirt and his floor.

“You look so sexy like this. Taking my dick like a good girl.” He whispers softly, stroking the sides of your head.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, basking in the praise he was giving you. Jongho knew how much you enjoyed being praised by him especially in your most intimate moments.

“You still have to be taught a lesson for being naughty.” He sighs mockingly.

“Open up.” He says. You open your mouth once again sticking your tongue out, feeling a slight ache start to form in your jaw from his previous assault.

Jongho grabs his cock giving it a few small strokes before tapping his tip on your tongue.

“After today you’ll think twice before you speak.” He says pushing his cock back into your waiting mouth. 

You close around his length taking him down inch by inch until your nose is pressed completely against his pelvis. Fingers tangling in your hair, he holds your head down rutting his hips forward in small circles, a feral growl emitting from his chest as your moans vibrate through his cock.

“Fuck you’re so good.” He moans, the hold on your hair relaxing a bit. 

You eagerly begin to bob your head, desperately wanting more praise from Jongho. Your hands find their way back to his length, working the rest of him with both your hands.

“Look at me.” He commands

Your eyes flit up to meet his eyes, a fiery glint shone behind them. Jongho felt his orgasm slowly creeping up on him with each movement. Seeing how eager you were to please him, the cock drunk look that glazed over your eyes, how messy you were around his cock. He felt weak in the knees at the sight of you like this wanting nothing more than to paint your pretty face with his cum.

“Fuck keep going. I’m so close.” He groans, head falling back as you pick up your pace. His grip tightens in your hair, hips thrust matching your rhythm perfectly. With each thrust you feel Jongho’s cock twitch in your mouth, the taste of his precum coating your tongue spreading through your mouth.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna cum!” Jongho moans quickly pulling out of your mouth. He begins to jerk his cock swiftly, desperately chasing his orgasm. You watch as his face scrunches up tightly, mouth falling agape, pleasure wrecking through his body as he hits his peak. With a loud moan, his cum squirts out wildly, splashing all over your face. You moan at the warm sensation, feeling his release trickle down your face.

He pulled back pulling you up from the floor, Jongho’s lips encompassing yours. His tongue exploring your mouth greedily moaning at the taste.

“Good girl. You look so pretty with my cum all over you.” He coos, coaxing a wide smile to grace your face.

“Anything to please you.”

“I hope you remember this next time you think about getting smart with me.” Jongho gazes pointedly at you. You only nod in response, refusing to show how much you enjoyed his way of “punishing” you.

Jongho’s hands find their way to the hem of your skirt, pushing the fabric out of the way before carelessly ripping your panties off. A surprised gasp leaves your mouth from his abrupt actions. 

“Now for your reward.” He guides you to the bed, spreading your legs wide. 

Jongho eyes your pussy wanting to cum again just from the sight of your glistening pussy, longing to be touched.

A knock sounds at the door interrupting Jongho’s thoughts.

“Uhh s-sorry to interrupt, but how much longer are you gonna be. I’m trying to sleep.” Yunho’s low voice rings out from the other side of the door.

“Sorry hyung, I'll keep it down.” Jongho a smirk playing on his lips. Without another word Yunho walks away back to his room.

You look back to Jongho who removed his clothing in the process picking up your ruined panties.

“Open.” He says, bringing your panties to your lips.

You open your mouth feeling the soaked lace fill your mouth.

“If you want to cum you better keep it down.” He teases making his way down to your pussy, finally giving you what you longed for.

—taglist: @spicxbnny @dawn-iscozy @st4ytiny @nopension @ateezswonderland @jiminssluttyminx @sunnysidesins

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed it like, reblog with tags, comment, and follow!

[radiojamming]

Hades game brain rot hell yeah!! Could you do uhhh Odysseys maybe meeting Achilles and Patroclus? Idk who would fanboy over who tbh lmao

OH BOY OH BOY I've thought about this scenario way too many times :)

AU I guess where Melinoë brings people back from the House of Hades? Or Elysium? idk but she's doing it! (And background OdyDio because if I don't put Diomedes in something like this I will just simply die.)

❧ ❧ ❧

There's a joke in the upper world that goes like: Odysseus of Ithaka walks into a taverna. He asks the taverna keeper who a seat at the best table is reserved for.

"Nobody," says the taverna keeper.

"Oh, good!" says Odysseus, and he takes a seat.

---

The night Achilles and Patroclus come to the war camp in Erebus, Odysseus tries his damnedest to find something to do, very far away. Some chart that needs updating, a contact in the Mourning Fields that just might have new information—anything to keep him out of the camp.

Of course, this is all taking place during a short period of calm. Melinoë only retrieved his old comrades because she, once more, defeated Chronos. This latest defeat caused some strange effect that no one—not even Hecate—could understand. Suddenly, those frozen figures standing at the edge of the House trembled, one of the Titan of Time's spells broke, and some of his captives were released.

On the other end, only a night before that, Melinoë sent Typhon crashing down the slopes of Olympus.

It's all to say that unfortunately, Odysseus has nothing to do. Damn it.

Fortunately, Achilles and Patroclus take up post in the taverna until they're given more permanent accommodations. Even with the small stockpile of nectar that Melinoë's given him practically singing his name like particular insistent sirens, Odysseus keeps well clear of the place. When Achilles comes up to Hecate's circle, Odysseus suddenly finds enormous interest in one of Melinoë's garlic plants.

One of the little green shades makes a noise of confusion as he approaches, and then scoots away to find refuge under Hypnos' hammock.

Odysseus can't say that this isn't like him. If there was a patron god of avoiding problems, it might as well be him. Pray to me, you great procrastinators of Greece, he thinks as he checks under the garlic plant's spindly leaves for... well, anything.

The problem is, he can't think of a way to solve this. He is good at avoiding his problems, but he's just as good at finding creative solutions. Traveling in disguise, lying, getting alarmingly naked as a distraction, more lying—he's gotten quite good at this over the years.

But it's Achilles and Patroclus. And, collectively, they are very much dead. Odysseus isn't the sort of shade that can will himself to disappear in an instant, and of the two of his comrades, one of them is the son of a goddess. If they want to hunt him down, he's sure he'll be skewered by next moonrise.

Talking himself out of it isn't likely. Ah, yes, very sorry that I personally saw to it that you two got involved in the war that would ultimately kill you. It was, as the younger shades often say, my bad.

No, that won't go well.

When he spends too much time staring at the garlic and feeling that distinct sense of eyes on the back of his neck, he switches over to take enormous interest in one of Melinoë's horrible little mandrakes. Yes, it is well worth a ponder, and he simply cannot turn around for any reason whatsoever when he hears the distinct sound of footsteps.

Light, dancer-like footsteps. There is only one man he knows capable of that kind of gait.

"Laertiades?"

Odysseus, to his credit, doesn't freeze up. He just pokes and prods the leaf of that godsawful little plant and pretends that it's the most interesting thing in the world. He will not face Achilles.

And Achilles, to his credit, is... patient. Which is certainly not a word synonymous with the Achilles he knows.

Funny word, that. Patient. Makrothumia, meaning 'long of temper'.

"Odysseus."

Ah. First names.

He stands up to his full height, turning to face Achilles with the most pleasant smile he can possibly muster. Think, Odysseus! his brain practically shouts. You're clever! You're incredibly clever! Smartest of the Achaeans!

Actually, that was probably Diomedes, but he digresses. What he needs is a plan.

And what would Diomedes do?

"Ah, hello," Odysseus says pleasantly. "To whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

Not that.

Achilles—and yes, that is most certainly him, almost the same as Odysseus remembers except with a lightness to him that he did not carry on the fields of Troy—stares at him. He opens his mouth to speak twice, but closes it both times. Although Athena was not Achilles' patron goddess, Odysseus can still see the man's mind working.

Then, carefully, "I am addressing Odysseus, son of Laertes, yes?"

"Indeed, that you do."

Green eyes narrow. A test, then. "And does Odysseus, son of Laertes, recall Achilles, son of Peleus?"

Stupidly, stupidly, Odysseus leans into the worst plot his mind has ever malfunctioned upon. "Achilles, you say?" he replies, putting great effort into tapping his chin with his forefinger, staring up at Selene—who is most certainly judging him—in deep thought. "I can't say I recall the name. Peleus, yes. He was an Argonaut, if memory serves."

Deep in the recesses of his mind, he can practically see Penelope shaking her head at him. You beautiful, stupid man, she would say.

Achilles stares a moment longer, then briefly looks disappointed. Finally, he nods once at Odysseus. "My apologies, Laertiades," he replies. He puts a hand up to his heart, an old gesture from a time Odysseus is sure both of them would rather forget.

And when in the gods' names was Achilles ever apologetic?

Before Odysseus can form another idiotic reply, Patroclus calls Achilles' name from the entrance of the taverna. Achilles turns on instinct, then briefly glances back at Odysseus.

"Another time then," he says.

And then, fleet of foot as always, he's gone.

Odysseus watches him leave, watches him embrace Patroclus with one arm. Watches them blissfully happy, the way shades aren't often allowed to be.

Mentally, Odysseus kicks himself. Then he gives himself two more kicks for good measure—once for Diomedes, and once for Penelope.

---

The denizens of the Crossroads rarely sleep—Hypnos excluded. When they do, it's done in quick cat naps. Brief meetings with short-lived dreams chased in the longer shadows of the night. Odysseus, despite having his own quarters and a bed far too comfortable for a shade to use, makes very few attempts to sleep. He doesn't technically need it, but for a shade of a mortal who spent quite a bit of his life asleep, something in him still looks for the first hook of sleep out of instinct.

Tonight, in an attempt to keep away from his old comrades, he tries to sleep.

Shades dream in strange ways. Of course they do. Rather than the twisting, abstract dreams of the living, shades dream in memory.

In this one, Odysseus is sitting in his hut at Troy, legs stretched out beside the longer legs of Diomedes.

"It was never going to work," Diomedes tells him. He taps one sandal against one of Odysseus'. "You know that."

"I know," Odysseus hears himself say. This old script.

"Yet you went, regardless."

He nods, stares down at the scar on his leg, the scars on Diomedes'. As close as the two of them are now, he still doesn't know where all of those scars came from.

"It was an attempt at peace. A stupid attempt, to be sure, but Agamemnon was insistent."

At this, Diomedes scoffs. It's a well-kept secret between the two of them—most of the Achaeans see Diomedes as a loyal attack dog. Very few know that his tolerance of Agamemnon hangs on by the merest thread. Argos and Mycenae are two angry cats waiting for an excuse to scratch each other to shreds, he once said.

In the distance, they can hear the crackling fire and the unhappy murmur of Odysseus' men. No one is pleased with the result of the offer to Achilles, least of all Odysseus.

Quietly, Odysseus says, "What do you think will happen?"

Diomedes shrugs. "If you're looking for an oracle, I think you're better off talking to Calchas."

"I'm not talking to Calchas. I'm talking to you."

Diomedes is silent for a long moment. Then, he sighs and reaches across to twist one index finger around Odysseus' finger. "There is what I guess, and what I know. I know Achilles will refuse until something terrible happens. Everyone has a breaking point, and there will come a day where he finally reaches his."

Odysseus raises his eyebrows. "And your guess?"

Silence. Long, miserable silence. Those are becoming more common in this camp by the day. Then, Diomedes squeezes his finger, and Odysseus returns the gesture without a thought.

"I think his breaking point will be Patroclus."

The moment the last syllable fills the tent, Odysseus jerks awake.

He lays there on his too-comfortable camp bed, staring at the star-flecked canvas of his tent. Outside, shades whisper, nightbirds call, branches shiver and creak in the wind.

Slowly, Odysseus lifts his hand over his head, staring at his index finger. He can still feel that phantom of pressure of Diomedes' hand on his. Experimentally, he flexes the finger out, then in. Then, he drops his whole hand to cover his eyes.

"Shit," he tells no one in particular.

---

Melinoë brings back more shades on her next attempt in Tartarus. More human-shaped Elysium types. Odysseus can see a few that appear familiar, but for the life (death?) of him, he can't put a name to a ghostly face. Few shades have the strength of character to retain their shape after death. He and his comrades are exceptions.

Achilles and Patroclus seem to take it upon themselves to train these shades to form some kind of militia. Commander Schelemeus is in charge of the more shapeless, characterless brigade. These shades, though, can actually follow orders and know how to hold a weapon for more than a few seconds.

In a perfect world where Odysseus wasn't constantly trying to jam a foot in his too-quick mouth, he'd be helping.

During one of these training sessions, he watches with thinly-veiled interest. It's just another sign of how much has changed that Achilles is actually trying to teach someone how to move as he does. He has so much more patience, a gentleness to him that he never had in life unless it was for Patroclus. His voice is lower, softer, like he's speaking to a small child.

"He's a wonder, isn't he?" says a voice that most certainly doesn't belong to Achilles.

If he was another man, Odysseus would clear jump out of his skin. Melinoë's voice isn't the sort that surprises anyone, but the suddenness of it, the presence of her where there was nothing before—by the gods, he really is losing his edge.

He clears his throat, seeing saffron-and-wheat come into his periphery. "Indeed, goddess," he says.

"He trained my brother, you know," she goes on. He turns enough to see that hazy look in her eyes, the same that always appears when she talks about her family. "My father took him on as a house servant almost as soon as he'd died. I can scarcely imagine what it would have been like to train with him."

"Mm."

"You knew him well, didn't you?"

That shade of Penelope that constantly thrives in Odysseus' mind is giving him that look. Your lie is about to implode, my love.

"As well as anyone knows any legend, I suppose," he replies, stiffer than he'd like.

There is a long, blissful moment where Odysseus can almost fool himself into thinking the conversation is over. But Melinoë—clever girl—says, "You're being unusually quiet, Od."

He's too well-trained in the deceptive arts to stiffen up or shift uncomfortably. Instead, he offers her one of his best 'trust me' smiles. Historically, it's worked on everyone except Penelope and Diomedes.

"It's nothing, goddess," he says. Puts his hand over his heart for good measure. Then, a quick lie just to put a tack in it, "Just mulling over reports of enemy forces, is all. A bit much on my mind at the moment, I'm afraid."

Another moment. For one second, Odysseus thinks she's onto him. It might be a trick of Selene's light, but her red eye seems to dilate when she regards him. Like the judgment of her father.

Then, "Reports? What kind? Should I be concerned?"

If he were less in control of himself, he'd breathe out a sigh of relief. Instead, he keeps his smile in place and gestures to his table covered in its ever-present charts. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

---

Another dream. A hazy memory stained gold in Ithakan sunlight.

Penelope's hands in his hair, combing through the strands. She's humming a song that's achingly familiar, like a lullaby she sang for Telemachus when he was still a baby. She stops for a moment, smooths a thumb over a curl of hair, and laughs. It's a low, delightfully warm sound that Odysseus will never, ever tire of.

He smiles lazily, one hand reaching over to run a finger down her perfect wrist. "What's so funny, my love?" he asks.

She leans down and kisses his forehead, and he leans up to meet her halfway. "Twenty years," she says against his skin. "Twenty years and yet you still have this cowlick exactly where I left it."

Her fingers trace the spot in question, and Odysseus preens under her touch.

In that moment—as quick, fleeting, and blinding as one of Zeus' thunderbolts—he understands why Achilles did what he did. He would die a hundred times over for Penelope; he'd destroy the whole Trojan army by himself for her. Only a week ago did the servants get the last bloodstain out of the tapestries on the walls in the megaron—the last trace of evidence of those damnable suitors. Odysseus has heard the people of Ithaka calling it a massacre.

If you had her for a wife, he thinks. You would have done the same thing.

And then he thinks, unbidden, of Achilles returning to the war camp with Hector tied to the back of his chariot. Achilles, wearing the blood of Hector like a pelt, his eyes wide and rimmed in miserable red. He didn't tremble as he stepped down off the chariot, didn't allow his servants to wash the blood off his skin. I want to remember it, Achilles had said. Let me remember that I killed that man.

Penelope kisses him again, this time between his eyes. "You're thinking too much, again," she says. "That little line is back."

"Which? I've got more than one now."

She kisses it again and again, quick little pecks that draw him out of his memories and back into her embrace. "The only one from before," she says. "I'm trying to make it go away."

He lets her keep trying.

---

Melinoë is back at his table. It must be serious, as she hasn't gone to her little garden patch yet. Her hands are on her hips, watching him as he approaches from speaking with Hecate about adjusting the parameters of the warding spells.

"Goddess," he says, hand on his heart once more. Even feeling her two-toned stare on him like a physical weight, he approaches her as easily as ever. "Reports say you thrashed Typhon properly again. Undoubtedly you have a good story to tell of it?"

"I do," she says. Her voice, though, is more steely and level than he's heard in a long while. Oh no.

He raises his eyebrows anyway. "But?"

A longer stare. She's clearly inherited a family trait for intimidation, small as she is. "You lied to Achilles," she says.

Ah.

"Pardon?" is all he can think to reply.

"I spoke to him and Patroclus in the taverna earlier. He's not at all like he was in your stories, but when I asked him about that, he said you told him you had no memory of him. I know that's not true." That glare gets a little sharper. "What were you thinking, Od? Why lie to him?"

Ah, yes. That familiar sensation of getting caught in a snare of his own making. I owe you another drachma, Diomedes, he thinks.

And he thinks a little harder. His instinct is to get out of this somehow—lie and twist words over words until the whole situation is gathered up into a nice manageable package that he can promptly throw far, far away.

But Melinoë is looking at him in a way she's never looked at him before. Ever since she was young, she's always regarded him with expressions ranging between wide-eyed awe and pure delight. He's trained her in the art of smug satisfaction and mischievous conspiracy. This look, though, makes a bitter feeling haunt the back of his tongue. This look tells him that he's well and truly done something wrong.

No. He can't lie to her.

He briefly looks away, toward the opening to the taverna where he knows his old comrades are still lingering. They have their accommodations now, suitable as any in a war camp. However, they linger there and speak to the shades that come and go, sipping at the nectar that Melinoë brings them.

Odysseus could be over there, but he isn't.

"Not here, goddess," he finally says. He offers a grin just this side of sad, a tug at the corner of his mouth that feels sharp as a fishhook. He can't say what he wants to say within earshot of Nemesis or the eavesdropping Eris. That's literally asking for trouble by name. "The baths, I think, are pleasant this time of night, aren't they?"

Melinoë nods, understanding immediately. "They are," she agrees.

---

He tells her everything. The stories he withheld when she was a child—the sort that aren't suitable for the ears of children, even if those children happen to be gods.

"I framed the man who pulled me into the war, got him caught for treason, had him executed knowing full well that he did nothing of the sort," he says. Even though he's a shade, the water of the baths seems to scald his skin. There's some purifying element, he's sure. Burning away some of those old, angry lies that have lingered inside of him like festering, gangrenous wounds. "All this I did because I loathed the man. He took me away from my wife and son, but I— I was the one who suggested the oath for Helen in the first place. What right did I have to be angry?"

Melinoë sits in thoughtful silence. She isn't look at him with judgement of any kind, but rather that open inquisitive look she takes on when she's learning from her headmistress. Honestly, he wishes she'd judge him. That would be easier.

"You had a right," she says. "I can't say for certain how mortals feel, but I'm fighting the very forces that tore my family apart."

"Indeed, goddess. But this man didn't hide my family away, or attack them. All he did was remind me of my oath, and he forced me to acknowledge my own lie that I made to get out of that oath."

Thankfully, she only nods.

He goes on, shifting his gaze from her to the surface of the water. Selene's moonlight glints on it, shimmering like a silver disc. He feels vulnerable under her light now, knowing who she is and what she's capable of.

"I was the one who did the same to Achilles and Patroclus. Patroclus took the oath as well, even though he was a child. I knew that if one of them went somewhere, the other had to follow. So I brought them into the war." More bitterly, "I was the one who led them to their destruction. If I was angry enough at Palamedes to get him killed by his own men, I can only imagine how Achilles and Patroclus feel about me."

Of all the responses he expects out of Melinoë, a hand resting on his arm isn't one of them. She's not the most tactile goddess, and her upbringing under Hecate hasn't made her particularly soft. But her grip is strong and reassuring, and her gaze is firm. "Odysseus," she says. His whole name. She never does this. Then, even more firm, the command of a goddess, "Talk to them."

Whether it's her natural abilities as a goddess or some wall inside of himself that's wanted to break down for a while, he feels beyond compelled to follow her instruction. Still, he asks, "Why? What can I possibly say to them after leading them to their deaths?"

Her hand doesn't move from his arm. "Have you changed since you died?"

"I... Yes, I suppose so?" He doesn't mean for it to come out like a question, but he wouldn't be Odysseus if he didn't secretly doubt himself as a rule.

"Then why would you think they haven't changed either?"

He doesn't reply. He can't.

Melinoë's expression softens. "Talk to them, Od," she repeats, a little quieter.

He will.

By this goddess in particular, he will.

---

Odysseus of Ithaka walks into a taverna.

He sees Achilles of Phthia and Patroclus of Opus sitting at the best table, splitting a bottle of ambrosia between the two of them and smiling warmly at each other like no time has passed.

Odysseus approaches and gestures to the open seat at their table. "Who is this reserved for?" he asks.

His two old comrades look at him, dumbfounded, and then slowly both expressions turn into something fond. Patroclus is, as always, a little more reserved. Achilles smile is open in a way it never was when he was alive.

"It's reserved for King Odysseus of Ithaka, I think," says Patroclus.

"But only if he remembers us," says Achilles, like a joke.

Why would you think they haven't changed either?

Odysseus smiles and pulls the chair out for himself. "Oh, good," he says.

And he takes a seat.

[airas-story]

https://www.tumblr.com/airas-story/770904004268048384/httpswwwtumblrcomairas-story7591035972974673?source=share

I would absolutely read anything you write about this trio. Maybe random ficlets from this universe but they don't have to be related? Since you are not sure of the long form content.

Maybe something slightly angsty-fluffy where Morgan falls sick or gets kidnapped

From the same AU as drabbles one and two. I played around with your two suggestions... but I just couldn't get either to work right now. So I instead did some of the earlier moments, since it's still in universe. No Pepper or Morgan in this one, though, just some setup.

“Here, to the left is the lake,” Tony said, tone officious. “Of significance is the time Morgan threw herself off the pier without floaties while she and Pepper were swimming. I was going to a meeting… Didn’t happen. My suit didn’t survive the rescue.”

“A fair exchange,” Stephen pointed out, amusement drowning out his anxiety. He and Tony had been dating for several months, but this was his first time at the cabin, ‘meeting’ Pepper and Morgan as Tony’s partner—not just a friend. “Did she learn from the incident?”

“She learned I’ll always jump in after her,” Tony said, laughter in his voice. “Not so much to stop doing it. She’s good enough at swimming it’s no longer heart-attack inducing.” He moved on. “Now, if you turn your attention to the right, you’ll see the alpaca pen where Gerald eats all our goji berries.”

Stephen snorted. “Never been a fan. Let Gerald eat them.”

“Don’t let Pepper hear you say that,” Tony said. “She loves them.” Tony glanced at the cabin then back to Stephen. “Speaking of Pepper... Ready to meet them or do you want to continue our tour?”

Stephen’s heart jumped. “I’ve met them before,” he pointed out.

“Then why are you nervous?” Tony retorted. He leaned in for a kiss. “There’s no reason to be.”

In theory. Stephen knew Tony wouldn’t be dating him if Pepper wasn’t okay with it. Stephen and Pepper got along and while he’d only met Morgan twice, Morgan had seemed to like him. Why was he nervous?

“What if…”

“I wouldn’t be bringing you home if you weren’t welcome,” Tony said quietly. “You fit Stephen. And as long as that’s something you want…”

“I do,” Stephen whispered. “I just—”

“Then don’t stress,” Tony said. “They’ll love you. I do, after all.”

[darkchemistryfanboy]

ok so this is my proposal for a Reverse Robins AU that's actually a Reverse Batfamily AU because Duke and the girls deserve some swapping too.

The typical joining the batfam timeline goes like this:

Dick-> Barbara-> Jason-> Tim-> Steph-> Cass-> Damian-> Duke

So let's swap

Duke:

both of his parents are severely incapacitated via rogue attack

since he grew up relatively normal, and has two parents he very much love and are technically still alive, he becomes Bruce's ward

the light to batman's darkness

overall very sunny personality but with some darkness one could explore

you can have his teenage angst phase start due to the awakening of his powers

no metas in Gotham and all that

so he goes to his own city and becomes his own separate vigilante

Damian

ok so this might be a little bit of a stretch but hear me out

he meets batman already trained and capable

and older than the current sidekick

also, his stance of killing may make him a kinda separate thing from batman

like, definitely not his sidekick

especially assuming this Damian is already a teen by the time he meets Bruce

it's not exactly the same, but near enough

his career ending injury could be related to the LoA

and instead of going hacker, he could go doctor

idk, think about it

Cass

ok this one's pretty easy

young child is found feral in the streets and gets adopted

she becomes the second signal or whatever name duke chose

and she is basically a really great child: appreciative of everything, actually goes to school, and so on and so forth

and then lady Shiva shows up

Shiva challenges her to a death match, Cass wins but refuses to kill her, since that's her mother, and gets killed for her troubles

now for her vilain arc it'd be a little different than Jason's

but I think it could happen

first she kills Shiva and steals her title

and when she does she has some epiphany about how some people will never regret the things they do

and she could become an assassin

killing the people who are truly horrendous, who she can clearly see are doing evil and regretting nothing

Steph

ok so while she would probably not grab Cass's/Duke's name, she would definitely be going out

and Batman gets PTSD seeing this small young vigilante going out and putting herself in danger

and tries to stop her

but Steph is too stubborn enough to actually stop

eventually he allows it but only on strict supervision

and maybe this is where she becomes the Signal III or whatever

at some point her father figures out who she is and while she's dealing with that she gives Tim the title

you could play on the fact that she's clue master's daughter and make her develop her detective skills

maybe enough that when Bruce "Dies" and Tim tells her of some suspicions she leaves with him to investigate

becomes Spoiler again and finds Bruce

Tim

ok so this one is kind of a stretch but just hang on

Tim, like always, is a fanboy

but since there's no Dick, he never figures out who Batman is

but he still loves the bats

and figures with all his money there's definitely something he could do

so he starts heading out to the streets, aiming to help

the others don't take him seriously because they see him as just a batman fanboy

so he has to struggle and try and fail and try again to be considered part of the team

he only becomes a part of the team when he becomes signal in that Steph fiasco

due to not being trusted, he starts a gang war, and Leslie fakes his death

he spends a year around the world, building his sense of identity and acting as a vigilante

and when Bruce disappears, he thinks something's fishy

and he keeps the name

Jason

this one fits way too well

Jason either never steals the tires or steals them quickly enough to never get caught

he continues living as a street kid, stealing, being a snarky asshole, and helping the alley kids when he can

he could become some sort of informant for the bats, as well as an opportunistic vigilante

as in never actually going out intending to stop crime, but ending up doing it when possible

he brings crucial info on cases, also stopping muggings, and becomes closer and closer to the batfam

eventually, being one of the biggest informants of the city, and an incredibly smart kid, he gets enough info to figure out the Bats identities

and Bruce adopts him

he decides to go out and save as many people as possible

he also has a very strong moral code

his father was forced into being a criminal by being excon, so he recognizes that sometimes you don't have a choice

he also is against excessive violence, since breaking bones, while it may not kill, it puts you in excessive medical debt and that's way too shitty

he and Cass argue constantly about this

Barbara

ok so this is the stretchiest one of them all

so try and stay with me

young Barbara, trained my a cop for self defense purposes, decides to go out and use her abilities for other people's defense

the batfam catch her, and snitch on her with her dad

while she is grounded, she manages to hack into their comms and uses this opportunity to try and annoy the batfam into letting her become a vigilante

eventually Bruce "dies" Steph and Tim leave, and Duke becomes batman

left with half his backup gone, and realizing there is no way he can keep Barbara sealed by herself with only Jason for help (Cass is an assassin, Damian can't go out into the field, and the rest are either Bruce or looking for him) he decides to make her the fifth signal

she's snarky at the fact they stopped her from helping people for so long mirroring Damian's attitude

Dick

this one is easy with some changes

the flying graysons get murdered later, with Dick being in his teens

instead of going full vigilante, dick joins the we are signal gang, and eventually becomes part of the batfam in a similar way to Duke

naturally, he names himself Robin

of anyone has some ideas to add or improve on this prompt, feel free to do so (respectfully), also if someone writes a fanfic please tag me, I'd love to read this story

also this was inspired by a post by @too0bsessedformyowngood , so you should definitely read that

[espressoristretto-patronum]

So, ladies, gentlemen and friends, let me introduce you to

✨Eleazar Lewis-Sweeting✨

Yep, I'm a basic HL fan and I named my MC's child after Professor Fig, I know I’m not the only one but how couldn't I? Professor Fig was like a father to our MC 😭

INTRODUCTION

Eleazar is the adoptive son of Tori and Poppy. How do they become his parents? Accidental parents are the keywords!

In Tori's future lore, Tori is an Auror and Poppy a magizoologist. Sometimes they work together because their mission is still protecting and saving beasts and slaying poachers 😤

After a few years of marriage, Tori and Poppy find a baby in a poacher camp they've just raided. He has a little but barely treated scar on his right eyes and is all alone so for the moment they take him to their home.

At first they don't know what to do with him. They are also not sure if he is the son of some poachers or if he was kidnapped. Tori even checks if he could be among some missing children but the little boy doesn't seem one of them.

They are thinking of adopting him but they are unsure, they've never talked about children before.

The final decision comes one week later, when he walks for the first time. Poppy interrupts her wife’s talking by hitting Tori's chest, exclaiming “He's walking!”

They freak out a little but encourage the baby who walks towards them. When he reaches them they hug him and compliment him. That's the moment they realise they're ready to adopt him.

CHILDHOOD

Eleazar is such a sweet child, he smiles and grins a lot, even to strangers, so much so that his first word is actually ‘hello!’.

He calls Tori ‘Mamma’ (much to Tori's joy because it's the way she called her own Italian mother) and Poppy ‘Mum’.

He will learn Italian too. Because yes 😤

That's how I imagine them being his parents LMAO Poppy is the first, Tori the second.

Actually Tori is first too but she is the one who literally grabs Eleazar by his little legs and tickles him as if it was a niffler (Eleazar has watched his mamma with Coffee Bean once and he found it so hilarious he fills his pocket with stuff and tugs at Tori's trousers exclaiming “Mamma! Up!”).

When he is a little bit older Tori and Eleazar also play wrestling (obviously being careful).

He is a lively child, sometimes too much 😅 as soon as he learns to walk he toddles a lot around the house and garden. Like his mothers he loves nature and he will quickly learn about nature and its animals. Sometimes they try to tire him out during the day to “have some time alone tonight 😏” but often it turns out they are the exhausted ones. Once Tori puts him to sleep and she even falls asleep before him. Eleazar, fully awake, walks back to Poppy, who looks at him amused and confused. “Eli, where is Mamma?”. Eleazar answers with a finger on his lips “Sh, sleep!”

Eleazar loves to hear Poppy reading something, whether it is a tale or her magical beasts studies (he is just like Tori, who also loves Poppy's voice). When Poppy works at home he often sits next to her and listens to whenever Poppy is studying.

He obviously loves all of Poppy and Tori's friends, who are basically his aunties and uncles ❤️ (HCU gang, I love you!)

His gap-toothy grins win everyone's heart in a second. Including Imelda. Before meeting him for the first time, Imelda has written to Tori and Poppy something like “Congratulations for the new entry! But don't make him call me auntie, I'm not an old lady!”

But the day she meets him, Poppy tells Eleazar with a teasing smirk “Look, Auntie Mellie is here!”

Imelda doesn't even have the time to glare at Poppy as Eleazar stretches his arms towards Imelda with a grin. “Au-tie Mellie!” Long story short: Imelda holds Eleazar in her arms all night.

Obviously, he doesn't want to miss any matches of her auntie, Holyhead Harpies is his favourite quidditch team. At the age of 7,during one of Imelda's matches, he tells his mums “I want to be a chaser like Auntie Mellie!” Tori ruffles his hair. “I can already picture your aunt's face once you tell her this!”

Can you imagine Eleazar's surprise when he discovers Auntie Natty is an Animagus? The first time he asks Natty to morph she is afraid to scare him, but when she transforms into a gazelle Eleazar's jaw drops, then he claps his hand laughing. Auntie Natty is cool!

Did I mention he loves magical beasts like his mum? He loves dragons too. To the point of wishing to have a pet dragon. He even cries relentlessly when the mums said no (obviously). “I'm sorry my love, dragons are too dangerous for a child” Poppy says to him when he cries in her arms, barely containing her laughter as she watches Tori, who also is about to burst into laughter. “He is really your son!”

HOGWARTS YEARS

The Sorting Hat was torn between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for Eleazar. After five minutes, sensing Eleazar wishing for Hufflepuff in order to follow his mothers’ path, the Hat announces he is a Hufflepuff.

Naturally, the moms would have been happy with any houses, but they are extremely proud of him.

He becomes a Chaser in the second year (he would have been already one in the first year, but the team was already full)

His favourite subjects? Care of magical beasts and Charms, of course!

His favourite teacher is Professor Garlick, who is the Head of the Hufflepuff house at the time he attends Hogwarts. Yep, for a while he had a crush on Mirabel 😅

Needless to say, he doesn't like History of Magic. He likes Professor Sharp a lot, but he doesn't particularly like his class.

LOVE INTEREST

“I want to treat and love a girl right just like Mamma loves Mum!” is Eleazar's motto after seeing how Tori is with Poppy: caring, making her laugh, doing infinite romantic things just to make her smile.

But Eleazar can't ask Tori how to flirt with a girl, our witch is still the most useless lesbian ever 🫶 in fact when Eleazar asks Tori “I like a girl, what should I do?” Tori doesn't even have the time to answer that Poppy laughs hysterically. “If you listen to Mamma you will just panic around your crush!” “Hey!”

@acslytherpuff and I are so southern Europeans grandmas that we've already set up Eleazar and the beautiful Alira (daughter of Cassie and Alex) together.

Look at them, they are adorable 😭 Photos by the super talented @acslytherpuff 🫶

I imagine their dates in the library, studying together (or "studying" 😏)

This is him waiting for Alira in front of Gryffindor dormitory to go to Yule ball ❤️

FUTURE

Okay this is still a work in progress, and I thought about his future career. Auror? Magizoologist? Chaser? But I believe he will be Professor of Care of magical beasts. Being a professor just like Eleazar Fig 🥺