#this is why I usually only write oneshots I don’t have the dedication for the long haul

[medievalthymes]

everyday I sit down and write approximately 50 words of my burrich/chivalry fic so y’all may see the next chapter sometime within approximately the next ten years

[natalynsie]

Boyfriend (Noco Oneshot)

Read full on ao3: Boyfriend - natalynsie - Total Drama (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]

Preview:

“How could you think she's not hot?” Cody asked.

Cody, Noah, Izzy, Eva, and Owen were walking back from their English class and headed to homeroom. Noah was getting quite sick of Cody's blabbering, but put up with it.

“I mean, Cody's right, she is pretty hot,” Izzy stated, putting a hand on Noah's shoulder.

“What about me?” Owen asked.

“You're not hot, you're cute!”

“And me?” Eva asked.

“Oh, you're hot as fuck.”

Eva smirked and Owen rolled his eyes.

“Back to the topic,” Owen began. “I don't think Gwen is hot.”

“You're too gay to be a part of this conversation,” Noah joked. “But I agree.”

“I shouldn't have to keep repeating myself! I'm not gay!”

“Noah, you're gay too,” Izzy said. “Don't think I don't see you staring at Cody's ass.”

Noah had to take a moment to process that. Noah had never stared at Cody's ass. Except for that one time but that was once. “What?”

“I'm kidding,” Izzy reassured. “Sort of. You aren't in the ass-staring phase. Yet.”

“Izzy, I'm not into Cody.” Noah usually enjoyed Izzy's observations, he found them quite entertaining, but he found this one strange. Noah didn't like Cody. He thought he was cute, but not much more than that.

“I think Gwen is not hot, Cody is insane, and he's been quiet ever since Izzy started calling Noah gay,” Eva stated.

“Something bothering you, Cody?” Izzy asked, turning back to Cody.

“Oh no, nothing, I don't care. I just didn't know what to say,” Cody informed.

“Okay, we keep on getting off topic,” Izzy noted. “Cody, what are your sexual fantasies about Gwen?”

Cody's face erupted into flames. “WHAT?”

“Good lord, let's keep this PG,” Noah sighed.

“Okay… Cody, what are your non-sexual fantasies about Gwen?”

“I'm not sharing that information with you,” Cody said. “All you guys get to know is that I'm crazy about her.”

“Yeah. We already know. Let's move on,” Noah complained. “Personally, I think Gwen is a bitch and you should stop obsessing over her.”

“What makes Gwen a bitch?” Cody asked. “She's super nice.”

“Yeah, what gives Noah?" Izzy questioned.

Noah took a breath in. “Well for starters, the way she broke up with Trent was terrible. Then she went and kissed Duncan. You don't just do that.”

“Courtney and Duncan weren't even dating!” Cody exclaimed. “Everyone keeps treating her terribly for that as if it were her fault Courtney was crazy!”

“Yeah, but Courtney's her friend. You don't kiss your friend's ex.”

“That's true,” Eva responded.

“Well yeah, but everyone's entitled to a few mistakes,” Cody said.

“She made more than a few.” Noah folded his arms.

“You're just mad he's not into you,” Izzy accused.

“I'm not into him!”

The group walked into Ms. Andrew-O’Halloran's homeroom and sat down at their table just as the bell rang.

“Well, unlike Noah, I think Sierra's in her ass-staring phase,” Izzy stated, glancing over to Sierra’s table

“Please don't tell me these things,” Cody replied.

“Okay. Question. Are you in your ass-staring phase with Gwen?”

“No. I don't stare at girls' asses.”

“Respectful. Reasonable.” Eva nodded.

“Yeah, real respectful of me not to be as low as Sierra,” Cody said sarcastically.

After that, the group decided to talk and rather do their English homework. Noah was writing an essay about themes in the last play they’d read, Macbeth, he was getting distracted by his thoughts.

Why does Cody like Gwen so much? Noah wondered. I just don’t get it.

Noah truly believed Cody could do better. He was cute, but Noah believed not everybody saw Cody the way he did. Noah tended to only pay attention to appearances once he’d met a person. If he didn’t know someone, he wasn’t able to really tell his opinion on their appearance. Along with that, personality always seemed to taint his opinion just a little. He thought Heather was a little prettier when he’d first met her.

But what Cody also had to offer was his personality- he was clever, and loyal, and dedicated. He truly tried to make people happy, no matter who they were to him. He was open-minded that way.

Cody even treated Sierra nicely. If Noah was in Cody's shoes, he would've told Sierra to screw off first thing. But Cody was still nice to her.

Noah may not have finished his math homework, but he got to do some thinking.

Noah headed to his Spanish class and sat down in his regular spot next to Gwen. Believe him- it was not his decision. If it were up to him, Noah would be sitting alone or with Cody. But, unfortunately for him, his Spanish teacher was insane and gave them a seating chart in high school.

So, he just had to put up with Ezekiel behind him, Courtney at his table, Bridgette and Geoff making out in the back row, and Trent and Gwen always passing notes to each other behind the desks. All he got to do all class was give Cody, who sat next to Trent a row back, bored glances.

The last class had been dedicated to speaking assessments, which would be continuing all week. Noah had finished his packet yesterday right before his own assessment. Figuring there was nothing better to do, he simply watched Gwen over her shoulder while Cody's table was out for assessments.

After a minute or so, Gwen turned to face Noah. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Noah responded blandly.

“You clearly want something.”

“I'm just thinking.”

“About?” Gwen asked. Courtney had moved tables, sitting with her friends in another section of the classroom working on science.

“The fact that Cody likes you is crazy.”

Gwen gave Noah a confused look. “Huh?”

“Well, you know he likes you.”

“Yeah no duh. Why do you think it's crazy.”

“I think it's crazy because he could do better.”

Gwen seemed to be holding back a laugh. “Look, Noah, as much as I love Cody, not in that way by the way, I don't think he could score very high. I'm not hot stuff, but Cody is probably worse.”

“Yeah but his personality is definitely better.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“Are you talking about the thing with Duncan? Because it's not my fault Courtney's so insanely overprotective.”

“Courtney is your friend. Or at least she was. You could have treated her better.”

“Courtney sees me more like a statistic than a friend. That's how she treats all her friends, if you haven't noticed.”

Noah shrugged. “Either way, Cody is better than you. At least he's loyal.”

“I don't know if you're trying to make me mad, but it's not gonna work.”

“I'm not.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Just saying.”

Gwen smirked. “You just wanted an excuse to talk about Cody, didn't you?”

Noah felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. “No. I just wanted to call you out.”

“Oh come on Noah, you aren't fooling anyone. You just went on a rant about how he could 'do better'. That's basically code for telling others you have a crush on someone.”

“Is not!”

Gwen giggled. “You're so oblivious to your own crush, it's hilarious.”

“I’m not oblivious, I don't even like him!”

“You trying to prove you don't like him is just making it worse.”

“Whatever,” Noah turned to the window. It was a bland view of the brick building over, but currently anything was better than looking at Gwen.

Noah figured Gwen was just being crazy today. Like Izzy that morning. Noah was no way in the world into Cody.

“Are you jealous that he likes me and not you?” Gwen asked.

“This conversation is over.”

“I'm gonna take that as a yes.”

Cody's group returned from assessments, and Cody once again returned to his table as the teacher called out Bridgette and Geoff.

“Hey, Noah, do you by chance have the answers to the packet?” Cody asked, and Noah turned to face him. He was doing his typical pleading eyes, which Noah usually gave into for non-gay reasons. But today was not one of those days. Noah couldn't risk Gwen thinking he was into Cody.

“Uh, no,” Noah responded, and Gwen snorted.

“What's going on?” Cody questioned. “By the way, Noah, I saw you finish that packet.”

“Um…”

“You two are so funny to me,” Gwen stated.

This statement just seemed to confuse Cody more.

“You should shoot your shot, man,” Gwen said. Who she was saying that to, Noah was unsure, but it definitely didn't help the red in his cheeks.

“Oh, fine,” Noah handed Cody his binder. “It's in the first pocket on the inside.”

“Thanks?” Cody responded.

“No problem.”

Noah returned to staring out of the window and not talking to anyone. He thought about what Gwen had said, and officially decided that she was crazy. There was no way he liked Cody. Absolutely no way.

[richmond-rex]

I was tagged by super talented @eve-to-adam! Thank you <3

How many works do you have on AO3? I've got 19 fics currently on ao3 (but I always think about deleting some of them so that number may go down).

What fandoms do you write for? Currently I only write historical RPF, but I've got two Still Star-Crossed stories on my profile as it stands. It was very fun to write them but the show wasn't renewed and eventually my passion ran out.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Draw Your SwordsBlooming (modern AU) We Sang of Roses (modern AU) A Royal BedJoy on Earth

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Though not always successful (I'm kind of a forgetful person, sorry!) I try to respond to comments because I like to acknowledge the person's effort in commenting. It's very easy to simply read and leave a like/kudos, but leaving a comment sometimes after you're still processing a story or when you're naturally very shy takes a bit more from you. So I like to acknowledge that.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably To love God is to love a sinner, but some stories have ambiguous endings such as The Relentless Weight and more recently, The Hour of the Wolf.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably my no-plot-only-fluff fic, White Christmas

Do you get hate on fics? Not frequently, thankfully, though that's probably because the readership I get is so small. I did once get a comment saying my story was too cheesy, and another one once berating me for describing Elizabeth of York as 'blonde' (a herald who witnessed her coronation described her hair as 'light yellow'; so please don’t tell me I’m wrong ♥)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do (though not frequently), which is considered controversial because I write about real (albeit historical) people. Sex is part of the human experience and it can tell us a lot about the characters and the relationships, so I try to feel less guilty about it. I also like to take smut as an exercising in writing: to test how far I can get in evoking a sensation without getting into more explicit territory is always a challenge.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? In terms of different fandoms? I don't remember ever doing that. I have mixed different eras, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not a fic per se, but once I did share an AU with @harritudur and another friend. It was very fun :D

What’s your all-time favourite ship? I do love to explore the relationship between Henry VII and Elizabeth because it was so unlikely to have happened in the first place, let alone succeed. I find it very touching! I do have other ships, though.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? It's not a WIP that I have posted anywhere but I did start writing a oneshot that I wanted to dedicate to a friend about the relationship between Edward IV and George of Clarence! It did feature a few unexpected people too.

What are your writing strengths? Probably dialogue and themes. It's difficult to say, I pick my writing apart so much when I'm in the process of writing it, once I publish it's very hard for me to go back and confront myself. It all kind of turns into nebulous territory.

What are your writing weaknesses? Many, many things but scene transitions are probably at the top of the list! That's why my story chapters usually all take place in a single scene.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a bilingual person I find it important to portray this completely unique experience of mixing two languages as they come (if the character in question is multilingual). It's not a popular view, though I do think people should get more comfortable with not understanding word-by-word everything that ever comes across the page. The strangeness of being confronted with a language that you do not know is a part of a different kind of experience and it can only enrich your reading. Of course, all should be within reasonable limits: information that is essential to the overall story should be in the language the story is set in.

First fandom you wrote for? I think it was Star Wars but I can't remember if I actually published it anywhere. I was very very young lol

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Blooming has a very dear place in my heart, it was the first fic I actually felt like accomplishing myself in terms of achieving the characterisation I wanted for my characters and creating a narrative that made sense for their development.

I think most people have been tagged already, but I'm tagging @harritudur, @heartofstanding and anyone else who feels like joining in the fun! x

[wonlouvre]

more for forever | k. mg.

pairing: editor-in-chief mingyu x female reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, cliché (in the sense that mingyu is rich and likes to spoil his girlfriend) warnings: mentions of insecurity, food word count: 2.8k

💌: this is just pure indulgence and i really hope you all like this! please wait for wonwoo because i have something in store for him too ;) again, this is cliché please forgive me. please tell me what you think about it hehe i love reading your comments, feedbacks and tags! also a big thank you to @minkwans​ for sharing their ideas and giving this oneshot life! <3

The name Kim Mingyu didn’t ring a bell before. Not until his executive assistant reached out to you because apparently, the photographer slash writer read one of your blog posts and wanted you to take part for their sixth year anniversary issue. You know the famous magazine and publishing company, which is why you thought it was a scam or a ploy to steal your money. It’s a stupid assumption but you can’t blame your mind imagining the worse because you are not a fashion blogger at all. Why would a fashion magazine want you to write an article for them?

Sure, you regularly write and post blog entries on your website. But you write about your dog, your recently bought tea coaster and sometimes your skincare routine. Okay, maybe your occasional outfit of the day as well but nothing in detail. Again, why do they want you to write for them?

Kim Mingyu answered your questions and uncertainties when he personally emailed his contact details to you. You didn’t have to bite, but it didn’t hurt to confirm at the same time. You dialed the number and he indeed proved you wrong. He invited you for a meeting at his office and you accepted. 

Your visits to high-rise buildings, much more to the luxurious office of an executive, is rare to never. You were jaw slacked when your eyes took in the crisp architecture. The design, the furniture, the color, the everything was beyond what you could have imagined a publishing company’s headquarters could be. 

The meeting was nothing but short of an interview. He asked about your blog (which does not even have its own domain by the way), he asked what else you write about, he asked about your desk job (which doesn’t pay much but enough for you to get by), he asked if you have any background about fashion and one last question about your dog, Max, before talking about his proposal. 

To be honest, Mingyu’s offer was tempting. For one article, the commission would be enough for you to move out of your current apartment and move to a brand new and fully-furnished one. But you remained true to yourself and without thinking twice, you declined. 

You can tell that the editor-in-chief and his assistant, who stood beside him all throughout, was surprised by the looks on their faces. But Mingyu respected your decision and didn’t pursue any further. You took your stand from the chair and sincerely thanked him for the time and opportunity. You thought that would be it but when he followed suit with your actions and reached his hand out, it was your turn to be surprised. 

You didn’t hesitate to mirror him and shake his hand, firmly. After that, you’d figure that it’s the end and that you’ll probably get to see a glimpse of him only through your television or phone. But Mingyu proved you wrong once again when he sent an unexpected email three days later asking why.

What might be the reason why you didn’t accept his offer? 

You believed he deserved an explanation of your personal reasons so you disclosed them. And just like that the conversation on that email thread naturally progressed and eventually deepened. The professional emails became casual text messages, the text messages became phone calls, and the phone calls became actual face to face dates at late hours of the evening because he usually clocks out at 9 o’clock. 

The rest, as they say, was in the hands of history. 

Your first date with Mingyu was particularly odd. It was at a traditional Korean restaurant owned by one of his friends who introduced himself as Angel even though his real name is Jeonghan. You didn’t question him or anyone else why because that’s none of your business. But back to the date. It was odd because you have never been to a restaurant that’s completely empty and dead silent before (aside of course, from the typical music played in the background). You asked Mingyu if such an occurrence is normal and he just plainly answered that he rented the whole place all to yourselves. You have always known he’s rich. However, you didn’t believe that booking the whole restaurant was necessary.  

Nonetheless, that first date, in some way, was special for you because there were no distractions. You enjoyed his company and you can tell he enjoyed yours too because he’s quick to mention a second date and it didn’t take a heartbeat for you to say yes. 

But, by far, Mingyu inviting you to the behind the scenes of the making of the sixth anniversary issue that you turned down writing for is one of the most memorable dates the two of you had. It was out of the blue and you two were having difficulty in syncing your schedules. He was beginning to get busier and busier as the anniversary neared and the only way he could think of still making time for you is inviting you to his office. He called you and asked if you’re free to have lunch together. And you, being attracted to the handsome and tall man, didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

He was in the middle of ending his morning meeting when you arrived and you were almost caught off-guard when all eyes were suddenly on you, making you feel small. But Mingyu didn't care as his smile beamed, immediately standing up from his chair to walk towards you. The rest of his staff were still in the midst of walking out of his office when he grasped your hand to pull you inside and you have never felt so shy your whole life.

Since then, he made you tag along to the creative process and you witnessed how hands on he was with every article, every photo, every brand, every trend and every detail that goes to the magazine that he has built and loved with his blood, sweat and tears. He’s beyond dedicated in finding and doing what’s best for the magazine and most importantly, its loyal readers. 

You can tell that he really is deserving of everything that he has and is still receiving.

Mingyu being perfect also applies to your relationship. He’s always present despite being booked with fittings, meetings, photoshoots and business travels twenty-nine days of the month. He never fails to call, never fails to answer your calls. He never fails to offer the warmest hugs and the softest kisses. Well, he fails to be on time during your dates sometimes but he never once stood you up and his cuddles when he sleeps over are enough to apologize for the lost time.

The only flaw he has is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Most especially at times where he wants to shower his love in ways that cost more than your paycheck in a year.

Here are some examples:

You know that Mingyu pays attention to every word you say. Even if you just mentioned a passing topic, he will do his best to keep those in mind. With that being said, you mentioned once that you want to renovate the extra bedroom of your apartment and turn it into a study where you could work someday. Your boyfriend, being the rich man he is, offered to hire and pay a team that could help you bring the design you envisioned into life. 

That was during the first few months of your relationship and you were flabbergasted by how easy it was for him to do or much less say. Needless to say, you immediately turned him down and he respected that (but of course, he pouted about it like a child all throughout the day). 

But wait, there’s more. 

Do you remember how you mentioned that Mingyu travels frequently? Yes? Well, Mingyu always books an extra ticket for you just in case you want to join him. Sometimes it’s not even about the flight ticket anymore. It’s about him stopping by your apartment to pick you up unexpectedly as if France is only a drive away. 

It’s unbelievable, really. That’s why you always close the door on his face. But of course, you don’t forget to give him a long kiss and “stay safe” or “I’ll miss you” farewell. Mingyu, ever the good boy he is, lets you win and just return your kisses a little longer for the days he won’t be able to do so. 

Mingyu’s intentions are pure and you’re well aware that the man that you love is only doing this because it’s simple, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you, he wants to give you what you deserve. You can never blame him for being out of touch from reality at times, but you can learn and grow with him. Although of course, he still needs a scolding and a wake up call every now and then. 

Anything else? Yes.

You didn’t take into consideration that he’d remember, but one night while the two of you were about to fall asleep, you sleepily mumbled about your dreams of attending graduate school. It was a mere whisper in the late night against his chest and you even thought that he wouldn’t hear you at all because his eyes were already closed. You honestly didn’t expect that he’d send you brochures of different universities who offer various programs the following day. You had to calm him down as he excitedly talked you through it. You even had to shut him up with your lips and explain that you don’t have the time to study at the moment with your current job. He tried to encourage you with praises and admiration of your dedication, skills and knowledge. But no, you didn’t buy it and that’s the end of discussion. 

The gifts, however, are something that Mingyu is not giving up on. The first few instances he gave you gifts whether it be a high-end handbag, shoes, clothing, and even jewelry, you allowed him. Because there were only a few. But along the way, the gifts got bigger and more frequent. You had to sit him down to set limitations. It was a long conversation of him trying to get the upper hand. But you didn’t let him outsmart you with his hugs and kisses. It was either he was going to tone it down with the gifts or no gifts at all. 

Sometimes, as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you can’t avoid getting insecure and afraid that the euphoric time you share with Mingyu is not meant to last. At some point, the fact that he's one of the youngest successful editor-in-chiefs of a multi-million earning magazine got overwhelming. You can’t help but feel that you’re no match for him. And again, you hate that your mind gets clouded with ideas that you’re just a charity case he enjoys spending his money on. Of course, you believe that he doesn’t look at you in that way.

It’s you who thinks so. 

“Hey.”

You release the bite on your bottom lip at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Your lost eyes shoot to the stove where he’s cooking and you notice that he’s about done so you should set the table. 

You didn’t even answer Mingyu’s call which concerns him. He wipes the sauce off his hands on the apron he’s wearing and holds your waist before you could even round the corner to the cabinets. 

His warmth snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyes blink up to him and he just raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Is there something wrong?” He asks and lowers the heat of the conduction. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you lie, shaking your head, “Let me get the plates. I’m quite hungry.”

You try escaping his strong arms and gaze, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist tighter. Your palms automatically land on his chest and the lean muscles make you gulp. 

“I’m going to ask again and this time, I want you to tell me the truth,” he says in a serious yet gentle tone. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh and lean your forehead against his chest. Mingyu also sighs and kisses the top of your head. It’s better to tell him now because you’re not going to get anywhere if you’re just going to keep it to yourself. It will be unfair for him too and that’s not what you want. 

“I just don’t feel so good about myself over the past few days,” you finally voice out. You sound weak, but Mingyu can hear you loud and clear. “I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Mingyu had to pull away and hold your shoulders to search your eyes, his frown showing disbelief and sadness both at the same time. “Did I do or say something to make you feel this way?”

“No, no,” you quickly say and hold his cheeks. “You did absolutely nothing. It’s just all in my head.”

Mingyu becomes silent and you wish you could just drop it because the regret and embarrassment is slowly dawning upon you. You wish you didn’t bring it up anymore because why would you burden him with your problems? 

But Mingyu proves you wrong once again by holding your hand and carefully tugging you to sit on the dining table, saying softly, “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

And talk you did. You let out your concerns, worries, fears and insecurities. You bore it all without hiding or masking anything. A tear or two slipped once or twice and some words were interrupted by your hiccups, but Mingyu was patient. He listened and held your hand, promising you that it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of him. It’s okay to trust him because he loves you. 

Mingyu loves you and his words and actions assure you that it’s okay to love him too. 

When there were no more words left to say, the two of you shared a comfortable silence. The weight on your shoulders and the sick feeling in your stomach immediately vanished and you have never felt so relieved. You have never felt so free and loved. You can’t believe that Kim Mingyu is real. 

“I know that this is unwarranted,” Mingyu breaks the silence after a while, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you in any of those ways. To me, you’re the person I love and I am happy with regardless of our different upbringings, different jobs. Those don’t matter to the time and love we share together.”

“I know,” you affirm and kiss his cheek. 

Mingyu nods and smiles against the palm of your hand when a memory suddenly pops in his mind. “I’m not sure if I have told you this already. But the blog entry of yours that caught my attention is about your first ever blog post.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You have never heard of this before. “You mean the one where I talked about why I love writing so much?”

Your boyfriend smiles and nods. “That one.”

“Gosh. That’s so embarrassing,” you groan and palm your face. 

“What do you mean embarrassing?” He argues, taking your hand to hold again. “That post was one of the most genuine posts that I have ever read. You explained, word by word, your passion, love and dedication to writing in the most honest way possible. Who wouldn’t be moved?”

You pout and unbeknownst to you, that makes his heart squeeze in adoration. 

“It’s not that special,” you mumble, eyes on your intertwined hands. 

“It is to me though.”

Mingyu’s eyes are dreamy and glossy as you meet them again and you could never be more in love. He holds your arms, coaxing you to stand up to straddle his lap. You giggle when he protectively wraps his arms around your waist. His nose scrunches when it grazes yours, but upon meeting his lips you feel it exhale a breath of relief.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. But when Max barks at the two of you, reminding you of the dinner you’re supposed to eat and share with him, the two of you burst into laughter before reluctantly detaching from each other. 

“You doting over me with material things is a perk,” you humor him and he gives you his signature giggle. “But, I wouldn’t trade sharing the same bed, cooking meals or taking care of Max together over any of those.” 

Mingyu nods gives you one last yet long kiss, a promise that there’s more for later. 

More for forever. 

---

a/n 2: this was supposed to be the header/poster of this story but it was too big lol

[lorkai]

A/N: Only Lucifer know why I never write for Belphie, he is just???? I don’t really understand much of his character but hopefully I did him justice with this oneshot - still he might be quite ooc, anyway want to dedicate this to my lil sibling @rainiishowers​ who’s birthday is today. Give them lots of love, guys!

“I smell exhaustion.” Belphie snapped, walking into your room with his cow pillow. He had finally gotten rid of those uncomfortable clothes his big brother had forced him to wear to your birthday party and you had to admit it was comforting to see him in his moon-ridden pajamas and tired expression, it was almost cute and you almost mustered up the strength to stand up and pinch his rosy cheeks. “Being tired is kind of my job so come on MC, I still have something to show you before the night is over.”

   Letting a long laugh ring out in the silence of the dormant hallways, Belphie turned and left. He talked a lot to someone who was trying not to yawn in front of you so you wouldn't make fun of him later, yet you crawled out of your bed grunting and complaining as you did. Today's party was tiring and noisy, but you had loved celebrating your birthday with all of them and the cake Barbatos prepared was simply divine. You suspected it was the recipe he and Simeon had been working on for a few weeks and you was more than happy to be the first person to taste the recipe they created.

"What do you want to show me?" You asked him, pulling the cow pillow into your hands and squeezing it against time. It was warm and comfortable and you could probably sleep with it in your arms, especially since it contained the strong scent of perfume Belphie wore. And that brought you more comfort than anything else, hugging his pillow was almost like being held by his thin but strong arms, it was usually warm and you fell asleep within minutes.

You looked at him waiting for an answer. But the avatar of sloth was simply watching your face and every expression that passed over you, almost as if he were admiring a painting of art. In the dim lights that lit the end of the hall his face was sublime and the dark highlights of his hair stood out a little more. In a quick movement you left a light kiss on his cheek, resisting for now the urge to bite him.

“MC!” He stuttered, laughing nervously. He was acting like a brat one second and the next he didn't know how to act at all, but now his cheeks weren't as red as they would have been if you'd done that a few weeks ago. He was still getting used to your touch and the urges you had to show your affection for him and his brothers. "Come on, it's this way."

Without waiting for you he started to walk. The sound of voices faded as you began to ascend to the upper floors, and even though you had almost an idea of where you were going, you decided not to say anything for now. Belphie also remained silent, though he glanced in your direction for a second or two before focusing on the path again. Finally the blue light caught you attention when you arrived at the planetarium and the first thing you saw was how many pillows and blankets were piled on the floor. “I had prepared this for you.” With that, he pointed up.

And what you saw was an indescribable sight. The sky was adorned with the stars you and Belphie spent nights watching, they shone with great radiance and beauty, and you could recognize each one of them, but there was something else along with them. Constellations from the human world that you hadn't seen in a while now adorned that sky and your face hurt from smiling so much as you pointed each one at Belphie, it was a simple happiness, but one that would become your favorite memory of that day.

"Thanks for showing me this, Belphie." You engulfed him in a tight hug and laughed like a little child, almost turning with him in your arms from side to side with excitement. And as soon as he muttered something you let go of him and pulled back a little to catch a glimpse of his flushed face. “I loved it, really.”

"No problem, yeah..." He looked away, searching for the right words. “It's the least I can do to right my past mistakes. Also, I know what it's like to miss home and I wanted to bring you a piece of your world closer, even if it's just the stars."

You laughed. “You know I've already forgiven you, silly. And even though I miss my world and things up there, I have a new world and I can hold it in my hands, see?” You demonstrated this by holding his face in your hands and finally squeezing his cheeks with adequate force, the soft skin over your fingers causing you to prolong the contact, stretching and pulling the skin to form funny expressions. And he made a nasal sound, seeming to laugh at what you said.

“Come here, you sassy little thing.” He took the initiative to pull you to the mountain of pillows and closer and closer to him, so that you rested your head on his chest, soaked in the scent and warmth that his body offered you with ease, in addition to the covers and the smell of chocolate that still hung in the air. He was humming a familiar song and playing with your hands in a particular habit that meant he was relaxed enough to be honest and was thinking. “I'm glad to know that you found somewhere inside your heart a way to love and forgive me, even if I can't forgive myself yet. Thank you for existing and being by my side, Mc.”

His earnest gaze made your heart dance in your chest. You blinked the tears away from your eyes and threw yourself on top of him, causing some of the pillows to fly and the covers to wrap around your bodies even more. Talking about that day was difficult and one of the last things you wanted, but you also didn't want to let him carry that pain alone and taking his face in your hands once more, you smiled, caressing his cheeks with great delicacy. “It's okay, silly one. I can't say I know how you feel, it wouldn't be worthy to compare your pain to mine, but I can help you carry it and get through it if you let me, if you talk to me about it.”

"Today is about you Mc" He said, his cold hands dancing over your back and making you shiver and jump out of his reach. “But maybe one day we'll have that conversation. Tonight is about you and how I feel about you.”

You smiled, watching the stars as your heart and his beat in sync as your hands found and slowly intertwined. The silence was comfortable as was the position the two of you lay in, comfortable enough to make your eyelids open and close, trying to lull you into sweet unconsciousness. The patient caress offered by Belphie seemed like the final touch you needed and within minutes, you were asleep in his arms, surrounded by an ironic sense of security and sweet dreams.

An I love you sounded, reaching for you in your sleep and causing you to let out a sleepy laugh. You'd missed Belphie's rare smile but somehow you knew it was him, chanting those first three special words, plus him being the first to say it to you.

[parvulous-writings]

Karl Heisenberg // SFW alphabet

Request: So there was no actual request, I just knew this would cheer up my closest friend. 

Dedicated to: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: A sfw A-Z for Karl Heisenberg, from Resident Evil Village!

Warnings: Explicit language

Notes: Please, have some Soft!Heisenberg, bor. It’s one of the many, many things you deserve.  To those who have requested oneshots- I am working on them, please be patient! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

He’s never affectionate publicly. Behind closed doors, though- well maybe he’s not your stereotypical lovey-dovey type, but hey-ho, he shows it in his own little way. A few hugs, but mostly through making you things. Music boxes, little figures and robots that wind up, you name it, he’ll try and make it. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He’s not a friendly man, typically. He’s cold, and driven only by his motives. It takes a long time for him to warm up to you, but when he eventually does he is always by your side, whenever you should need him. Be it for violence, or for an ear to pour your thoughts into- even though half the time you swear he’s not listening completely. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Heisenberg likes warm cuddles above all others. The kind where he can pull you close and hold you there for a while- he likes feeling you against his chest. It’s comforting to him, after years of no affection and a torturous living experience. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Karl is not particularly skilled in any domestic skill. He’s very mediocre at cooking, and he can’t clean to save his life- his factory is littered with dust and other probably very harmful particles. He isn’t very good in a domestic environment at all, really. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Blunter than a broken pencil I’m afraid. He’s never had to hide something from you in the past, so why should this be any different? He would not want to beat around the bush here, he’d annoy himself with pleasantries and euphemisms. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

He’s perfectly fine staying as partners, without marriage looming over the pair of you. Quite frankly, he doesn’t think it’s worth it.  “A piece of damn paper to show someone your fucking devotion? Bullshit.” 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Unless you’re shaking like a leaf or have specifically asked him to be gentle with or around you, he’s not going to be. He’ll treat you much how he treats most others- with a little bit of affection for zest and flavour every now and then. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

While he likes cuddles, he isn’t a huge fan of hugs. He thinks they’re too short to show any real affection, and often get in the way of whatever task the recipient is trying to perform.  

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

S l o w l y. This man has gone through some stuff, and doesn’t want to get attached to people despite falling for you. Give him a chance. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Okay so he may be “non-committal” in a loose sense of the term, but this man is one jealous motherfucker. And he gets angry. I’m talking  punching the wall, lashing out and breaking shit kind of angry. It’s mostly because of a nagging fear that not only will he lose you to someone you think is better or less monstrous than he is, but also in part due to a feeling that because of what he was forced to become, he isn’t good enough to keep you for himself. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He kisses you on your hands or neck mostly. Those are his favourite places to kiss you. He occasionally kisses you on the inside of your wrist. If you have any scars as well, he’ll kiss them. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

It depends. Sometimes he’s the perfect uncle figure, others he’s a whirlwind of rage. If you’re taking him to see some children for a prolonged amount of time, please check how he’s acting and feeling on the day so there isn’t some sort of horrific accident. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

There’s nothing special about them, he’s usually up long before you are. He doesn’t leave anything like a hot beverage behind, unless it’s a special occasion that he’s remembered- like a birthday or anniversary. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He often tells you to go to bed before him, as he’s usually working on something, and would rather not have to worry about you being down in his factory and workshop. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

When he’s extremely angry. He gets riled up, then will start to spill facts and secrets while hardly even realising it. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a very short fuse and a violent temper, to say the least. There’s a reason the man swears so much. Though he will often apologise if he’s scared you after an outburst. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers the basic things at the very least- Your name, your habits on eating and drinking, what you do to amuse yourself. He’s quite observant, actually. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He made you a small music box once. The past part of his day, or his entire week, was seeing your smile as you opened it and listened to it for the first time. It was the widest he’d ever seen you smile, and he loved the feeling it gave him. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Very. One particular other Lord- “Lady Super-Sized Bitch,” as Heisenberg has dubbed her- is very interested in your presence, and Heisenberg has made it very much his business to keep you practically under lock and key to keep you safe. And when Ethan Winters comes around? Ooh, boy. You ain’t leaving his sight. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

He does try- through making trinkets and gadgets to both help you and show his affection. Sometimes it may not always seem that way though, with his outbursts and his tantrums. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. You tried to get him to quit once, then stopped when you realised it made him more irritable. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not that concerned. If he’s still kicking... Well that’s all that matters to him. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel that something’s wrong, something’s not right- a cog missing from a machine, in a sense. And he hates that feeling. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man would die for some ice-cream. You bring him a tub of the stuff- BAM, instant good mood for the next like two days. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

This man is not fussy, in the slightest. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

He basically doesn’t, he gets so little it’s a wonder he can actually function normally. 

[hellotherekenobi]

───flowers in the sun.

summary: you know fandral well enough to know how much of a flirt he is, but when he asks you to join him on a picnic one day, it turns out he has a reason behind it all with you.

a/n: dedicated to the one and only @megmeg-chan for fueling my daydreams of this man. this goes out to all my fandral lovers out there. i respect you. song i listened to while writing: flowers by in love with a ghost.

ONESHOT. ⟶ 1,616 WORDS.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days like today were always lovely, where the sun shining made everything gleam and sparkle and the breeze were gentle, not too cold but just the perfect temperature. Of course, days like today were always lovely when they’re spent with someone equally as such, but perhaps that’s why he was given the name “dashing.” You weren’t always that interested in him, nor the warriors three, but he slipped through the cracks and you didn’t put up much of a fight once you realized how far you had fallen for him—and who could say no to a picnic out in the Asgardian fields with Fandral, anyhow?

When he had asked you earlier today, you weren’t expecting much but as soon as you had seen the spread—fruit baskets and crystal glasses, a fine linen blanket with golden patterns etched into the fabric—you knew that, once again, he managed to slip further past the cracks you’ve never bothered patching up, and probably never will with him being so close to your heart already.

“These are delicious,” the strawberry in your hand drips down your finger as you wipe your lips.

Fandral chuckles, leaning his head further back to close his eyes up at the sun, resting on one hand where he lays. “I made sure to get only the best for you, darling.”

You don’t react to the nickname, having heard that from his lips countless times before directed at many a fair maiden. “I can tell, with all the food you packed. Must have taken some convincing to sneak this out of the palace.”

“Oh no,” he smiles, tilting his head to look at you. “Not at all, my dear. Only so much convincing for you to join me.”

You smile, wiping the strawberry juice off of your hands with one of the serviettes packed. “I’ve never taken you for the picnic type.”

“Well, what is it they say? A moment is only as good as the people you spend it with.”

“And this moment?” You tease, leaning on your elbow closer to him. “How good is it?”

He doesn’t hesitate to say, “Far greater than any I’ve spent before.”

It makes you smile, looking down at your lap as you fiddle with the serviette in your hands. The confidence in his words could make anyone swoon, but you’ve always been more hopeless than hopeful as a romantic for him. Yet you still cling to it, smiling wider and letting out a chuckle, looking up again.

“Always such a charmer.”

He nods in agreement, pursing his lips slightly as he grabs his glass for another sip. There’s a moment of silence between you two, where you simply sit basking in the sun and listening to the rustling of the flowers amongst the grass as the wind blows gentle and cool. Fandral was right about moments, since this one wouldn’t be as pleasant if he weren’t beside you, but you are still wondering why you’re with him here to begin with—not that you’re complaining but time spent with Fandral was always giddy at most, throwing quips each other’s way and believing his flirts to be mere fun. Hopeless not hopeful, you remind yourself.

“When are you leaving?” you ask finally, seeing as the question was danced around before the food was even brought out.

He sighs, something tired. “Tonight.”

“And you’ll be gone for...?”

“I don’t know—” he sits up—“I’m hoping no more than a month, should everything go to plan. These things don’t usually turn out that way, however.”

You hum in agreement, knowing how long his last campaign with the warriors had been—and how you waited to see him ride back home almost everyday. “I thought you enjoyed fighting battles? I hear so many stories.”

“All in truth, I assure you.” he wags a finger for emphasis. “But when I go, I’ll miss moments like these. I’ll miss you.”

Your cheeks burn by his words. “You won’t have any time to miss me.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll think of you always.”

Hopeless. Remember it. He’s a natural born flirt, and a good one at that, but this doesn’t mean anything to him. You keep telling yourself that but the more you do, the more you think differently. Or maybe you’re just trying to deny what he might feel because of the way you feel. Cutting your thoughts short before you lose yourself, you lean over to pluck a flower from the field, twirling it in your hands to have something other than the serviette to fiddle with in the hopes that Fandral won’t notice how nervous you are. He doesn’t leave the topic unfinished, though.

“That is why I asked you to join me here. If I’m to leave tonight, I want you to be the last person I spend my day with.”

“Fandral,”

“I know,” he chuckles lightly. “Everything will be alright. I know that more than anything.”

“Because of your bravery or your silver tongue?” you joke, expecting a laugh from him but only getting a smile.

“Because I have something worth fighting for.”

“What is that?”

You think you know the answer already, most likely for Asgard or his companions—something noble—yet you don’t expect his answer when he leans over to take the flower from your fingers, twirling it once before he fastens it behind your ear, looking at you softly to say, “You.”

It’s said so sincerely that you do nothing but stare at him, watching for a furrow in his brow or the crease in his smile to tell you that he was only fooling, but he just continues to look at you, something so genuine and intimate that it could tip you over if his hand weren’t still by your ear and gently brushing along your cheek.

You don’t know what to say, so you change the topic. “Does it look alright?”

It almost takes him a moment, but he doesn’t even look at the flower, instead staring so wistfully at you that you can feel his gaze, noticing the way his eyes flicker between your own and he swallows the clearing of his throat. “Yes, well... you are always beautiful.”

You can feel your heart racing against your chest, you’re scared it might rip right through the skin. What could you reply with that won’t end in a stutter? He’s captured your heart, though you try to deny it, and maybe now you’re about ready to tear down the wall after all these years. But even when his fingers brush along your jaw so tenderly, working their way to your chin, you need more before you can let him in completely.

“I need to know,” you say so quiet like the breeze, placing your hand on top of his to still his movements. He looks at you with those swimmable eyes of his, brows furrowed in a way that makes him look like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “All of this... how you are with me... is it anything more than just Fandral the Dashing?”

He leans back slightly, like your words had shoved him backward. The look on his face changes to disbelief but so fractionally, so soft-hearted, that you could almost think he was saddened.

“Do you truly believe I have no feelings for you?” he waits for you to tell him he’s wrong, that all this time you’ve known, and when you remain silent he says, “All that I do for you, it’s all of me. Every word I speak, every touch I give, it’s a reflection of how much I care for you. My dear, I have loved you ever since we were young.”

For as long as you can remember, you have wanted to hear those words from him. Every moment you spent wondering ‘what if?’ has come to a standstill, telling you so clearly that all your doubts were for nothing. Fandral loves you, but more than that he has loved you for the beginning. It’s so much to take in that you sit there, frozen, balancing on the edge of happiness and surprise, your thoughts being too loud for you to even choose how to outwardly react.

He’s known you for so long and chuckles breathlessly when you make no move, knowing how many words must be swirling inside your head. “Must I prove myself once more for you?” His thumb rubs gently at your chin as he leans closer, smiling when he notices the way you hold your breath. “Very well.”

You can’t think to close your eyes when he leans just that much closer and presses his lips to yours—the feeling alone being too good to be true, you have to make sure you’re not dreaming. Then just as softly, all at once, you fall into him. The wall comes crumbling down as you close your eyes and kiss him back, your hand reaching out to hold onto his shirt so that this moment doesn’t drift away from you. He smiles against your lips, tilting his head to kiss you deeper and feel you press against him. As he wraps his arms around you, he begins to peck kisses along your jaw, beneath your earlobe, and scattering featherlight kisses along your neck just to hear you laugh as you squirm in his arms.

“You laugh so sweetly, I might have to kiss you more just to hear it.” he has the biggest smile on his face as he speaks, leaning in close to bump his nose against yours. You giggle as you push him back lightly, hearing him chuckle along with you. “I’ll take the sound with me until I come back home to you.”

can i get an uwu in the chat: @moonlight-prose @rebelledjester @aw--heck @americancowgirl19 @xxpoptarts @alwayssleepingforreal @awesomeri14 @karedevil4ever

[fannishcodex]

More Bat adora and her papa please, just to tied us over while you are making the story.

@thehumminbrawler So this actually inspired me to write a like ficlet oneshot. ^^; May be out-of-continuity with the mainline AU, but was neat to put it down and I kinda just needed to put it down due to some stuff going IRL right now, I'm like coping with fandom even more right now.

Notes: While spacebat!Adora was a baby, Shadow Weaver tried to kidnap her and take over the Etherian Horde. Hordak managed to protect Adora, escaping with her and Imp as well as those that remained loyal to him/didn't want to follow SW, while SW took over the Fright Zone and created the Shadow Horde. Hordak and co.--pretty much now the Renegade Horde--fled to the Crimson Waste, and their presence started to stabilize the region. The Renegade Horde fights more with the Shadow Horde now, and tries to negotiate for allies more. The Renegade Horde has an ongoing and tense negotiation effort with the Royal Alliance against the Shadow Horde. The Valley refers to the Valley of the Lost, still a major settlement in the Crimson Waste and now more of a bustling center of commerce and community. Just quickly named Dryl Baker "Bekka." Due to Hordak's background of being surrounded by brothers as his own family and society, he perceives Adora and Imp as his younger siblings, but after Later Events he'll start exploring the terms of 'parent-child' and may think that fits their relationship better. (It's an AU Prime in this though the differences don't really come into play here.) There is a little Entrapdak.

Fic under the cut:

following his brothers while sneaking glances out the window at all the stars

all four eyes bearing down on him and pinning him in place

futilely holding a dying brother's hand on the battlefield

"--well I'm very happy you've got it all figured out, Imp." Hordak's ears twitched at his younger sister's grumbling, making his heart slow down. He clung to the sound of her voice, a refuge from nightmares and poor memories even if she obviously sounded irritated, though with an edge of self-reproach. The elder clone began to gingerly sit up, monitoring himself while slipping off the blanket. What could his younger siblings be squabbling over? What could be troubling Adora? How long had he slept?

Fortunately Hordak hadn't fainted, but he had felt weaker, tired earlier--enough so that Adora and Imp caught him and made him lie down and rest. As they had gotten older, his younger siblings had a habit of ganging up on him when they put their mind to it, and their teamwork always proved to be formidable. But Hordak had planned to search for some materials down in the Valley today, and he still saw no reason why he couldn't do so. He felt groggy, but also like some of his energy had been replenished. Adora's reasoning and Imp's insistence that he should rest had been sound.

Imp gave a warning screech, clearly spotting him, and Adora was immediately at his side. Though still...wobbly, irritation didn't flash through Hordak (he was getting better at accepting help from those he cared about). Instead, a fond smile slipped onto his face at his sister's presence. But when he caught her eye, his smile faltered slightly. They were blue and alive with concern--but he again stumbled on the dark slit pupils she had been blessed to inherit from their oldest brother and genetic template. Blessed. She had been blessed...it was his own weakness and cowardice that made him unsettled sometimes. But these were rare flashes for the differences always asserted themselves--Adora's eyes were a bright blue just like her fangs, and more significantly they were always warm and open, she had not the necessary detachment of Horde Prime. (And yet it had been a long time since Hordak had talked about Horde Prime with either Adora or Imp.)

Hordak felt his own self-reproach cloud his mind when Adora frowned, but felt it retreat when she only said that maybe he should lie back down, and asked how he felt. She apparently hadn't realized Hordak foolishly misdirected fear toward her eyes and the unintended offense. Adora had thought his faltering smile and proverbial wince was due to his physical weakness, not his mental one. The elder clone took a breath and shook his head. "I'm fine, Sister. I've rested enough--" Adora glared, and her ears gave a warning flick. "You shouldn't go to town today--" Hordak opened his mouth, then his eyes landed on a tray of tiny soup mugs. He decided to switch tactics. Sometimes it was necessary in the face of Adora's determination. "Entrapta made soup?" It wasn't really a question, and he reached out a talon for a mug. Though he hadn't seen her before Adora and Imp had convinced him to rest, he assumed his partner must've come while he slept, made something for when he awoke, then took her leave. They were all busy with impending negotiations and the...local customs that were apparently necessary. (He still didn't understand "parties," while Adora tackled them with dedication, almost always open to finding the value in anything.) Imp passed him a mug, and Adora absently nodded. "Yeah, she came while you were out and whipped them up." Then she shook her head, re-focusing. "She said--"

"--tell Hordak to feel better and sorry I couldn't stay, Cobalt needed some time-sensitive wrangling with the delegation from Thaymor--but I'll be back later tonight!" Entrapta's recording filtered out once Imp opened his mouth. Hordak smiled at her bright voice. Adora laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Right, that. Thanks Imp." She slid the tray of soup closer to Hordak, where it had been placed on a small table next to his bed. "You like it? Entrapta said she tried something different, added a new herb or something that Bekka told her about," his sister remarked, and Hordak nodded around a sip. Then Adora's ears snapped down, nearly horizontal, and her eyes narrowed. "Eating your soup doesn't mean you should go out right now." "I'll have been fed and rested," Hordak pointed out after finishing his second mug. Adora's ears pricked up to their usual stance, and her eyes were no longer narrowed. "Hordak, I can just go into town for you--" His sister was apparently trying to change tactics too. The elder clone shook his head. "I am looking through updated inventory, not picking up something I know they already have." He downed another mug of soup. "If you just described what you're looking for--" "It's not that simple, it's..." Hordak shook his head. "It would be easier if I did it myself." "...You're just browsing, aren't you?" Hordak nodded, realizing Adora had articulated what he meant. "Yes, that." His sister blew out a frustrated breath, her ears giving an irritated flick. But she still didn't look convinced. "You can always accompany me to the Valley," Hordak finally said after he emptied another mug. Usually Adora loved exploring the merchants' wares in the Valley markets; it was what he had come to learn was called a "hobby." "My formal dress got wrecked when the Shadow Horde tried to kidnap Prince Peekablue." Adora's disappointed voice crackled out as Imp played the recording, while the present Adora's ears pricked up in surprise. "We can look for something new for you in town," Hordak added, seizing on Imp's opening. Adora's eyes darted between her brothers, frowning. Imp looked smug and far too satisfied, while Hordak tried not to grin at his younger brother's demeanor. Hordak and Imp could form their own effective team as well. Adora shook her head, but hesitantly. "That's fine, there's still time before the talks and the delegates' ball, I can go when you're feeling better--" "I feel better now," Hordak insisted. Imp chittered cajolingly as he climbed up on his shoulder, but Adora favored her fellow hybrid brother with a glare. "Backstabber," she grumbled at Imp, who just chirped teasingly. Then their sister rolled her eyes. "Fiiiine." Imp theatrically scrunched up his face in faux disgust, then played back a recording of one of Princess Mermista's signature groans. "Woah no, I'm not--don't even joke about that--" Adora snapped with wide, alarmed eyes while Imp snickered and Hordak slid a hand over his growing smile. ___ Since the fracture of the Etherian Horde and their exile into the Crimson Waste, the desert region had been changing with the influx of now branded Renegade Horde members who rejected Shadow Weaver's command. The place had become more stable, and in that stability it had found a new profitability in more consistent commerce. After examining scrap yards and mechanics for new goods and finding some promising materials that went straight into Adora's shopping pack--she refused to let Hordak carry anything, and Hordak refrained from resisting as long as she agreed to let him carry whatever new dress she picked--they went to the merchants selling various garments and accessories. Adora tried to efficiently and quickly select something, and while Hordak could see her reasoning, he instead told her that she could spend more time looking. "You normally enjoy the markets," he pointed out to her. Hordak still had mixed feelings on the place, which was especially dependent on how tolerable the crowds were. But he felt satisfied when he found particularly useful tools or supplies there; he enjoyed it more when he hunted for supplies with Entrapta and shared conversation with her; it brightened his mood when he watched Adora bounce happily between the stalls and eagerly browse while Imp flew around her head, orbiting her like a moon.

His sister sighed. Imp plopped on her head, pouting, and Adora stumbled a little under the sudden weight of him. She frowned and glared up at the boy, but then stared back at Hordak. "Yeah, but--" "I'm fine, Adora," Hordak repeated. Then he hesitated, and continued, "We...could use a break, and that can take the form of an afternoon in the market stalls." It was difficult to learn, but Hordak had been learning. He had been learning from his younger siblings, when he found he liked letting them play, and continued to desire seeing them enjoy themselves when they could. He had learned from Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia once he realized he could trust them more. He had learned from Entrapta... (Hordak tried not to think of his oldest brother wreathed in light and consumed with purpose.) Adora blinked, and gave a soft smile. Then she giggled as Imp mussed up her snow white hair, and Hordak led them to the dried fruit stall they all favored. ___ Adora examined various dresses and talked to some eager-to-sell merchants while her brothers stood back. Imp ate the last of the dried apricots while he sat on Hordak's shoulder, and though the risk was minimal, Hordak wanted to ensure he did not make a mess on the shop's inventory. When Imp finished, Hordak nodded to him, quietly giving permission, and the boy immediately launched himself off and flitted around Adora's head. Locals used to Imp were able to mind the boy's flight path.

"Hey, Hordak, you already have an outfit picked out like Imp and Entrapta, right?" Adora called out from behind a shelf of scarves and jewelry, with only the tips of her ears poking out. And then they ducked out of sight while she was clearly on the search for something, or examining something more closely.

"Yes," Hordak said, while he glared at Imp and gave a warning flick of his ears when the boy started playing with a scarf, wrapping it too fast and roughly around his body. The boy stuck out his tongue, but began to disentangle himself.

"Okay, so I'm looking for a dress, but I thought I could accessorize too because something just caught my eye--but maybe I should find a dress first--but this accessory could help me narrow down on a dress that could pair well with it--"

Hordak actually felt the urge to laugh, but he fought it down and only allowed himself a smile. (But he questioned himself--why not laugh, a chuckle in the Valley's bustling market would not be out of place--the silence of his brothers while on guard shift, four eyes staring down--but he had already broken so many edicts--the cold click of a talon guard--)

"Are you asking for input, or brainstorming?" Hordak asked, shoving back thoughts of his original home away. It was a question he had asked Adora before, wishing to determine when she wanted his thoughts or when she wanted someone to just listen.

"Brainstorming! And I'm also prepping you because I want to show you and see what you think, and I think I found something you might like too--" And then Adora stepped out and gestured to her ears with a smile.

Hordak looked, and he felt something rise up in his throat, and he hated himself. The metal clasps wrapped around Adora's ears were bronze and they didn't even reach the tips of her ears--but in his mind's eye he saw Prime and silver clasps perfectly fitted to his ears, and the dark slit pupils of Adora's bright blue eyes were swallowed up by vivid green and lacking in all warmth...

"Brother--?"

Hordak flinched, his eyes squeezed shut. And then it registered with him that it had been Adora's voice filled with concern, obviously not Prime's. His self-loathing grew. He opened his eyes just in time to see Adora close the gap and lay a supporting talon on his arm, clearly worried he might stumble. Imp clung to her shoulder, with part of the scarf he had been playing with still wrapped around one of his arms.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"I...yes, I just need to take a seat," Hordak said, thinking pretending he had felt a little faint was better than admitting to the awful and confusing thoughts that plagued him. Adora promptly and politely asked the merchant's assistant if they had a stool, and he immediately provided one.

Adora thanked the assistant, then looped an arm around Hordak's, clearly wanting to help him sit. Normally he would've resisted, he would've insisted that he could sit by himself at least, but shame and guilt made him comply. But then he saw in his sister's face that his easy compliance had not been reassuring to her.

"When you're ready, we can go back--"

Hordak shook his head while Imp switched to his shoulder. "I'm fine now; I can wait here while you find your dress." Avoiding her concerned look, Hordak unwrapped the final piece of scarf away from Imp, then carefully began rolling it up.

The elder clone glanced up at Adora's ears--now dipped low with worry, he noted with another stab of guilt--and forced himself to review the new accessory by its own merit. Despite his efforts, he felt it still looked eerily similar to Prime's; but its bronze material seemed to go well with the reds Adora tended to favor.

His ears flicked in the direction of her new jewelry. "Their color suits you," he murmured with muted but genuine fondness. This was his sister, her own...truly her own person. Her capacity for mercy marked her as distinct.

Adora's ears pricked up, and she ran a talon self-consciously across the length of a clasp adorning one of them. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

She smiled softly back. Then she startled, as if remembering something. She raised her other talon, closed in a fist. "This is the, um, thing I thought you might like." She unfurled her fist and let a single, red diamond earring dangle from her carefully pinched, taloned fingers. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be by itself for an asymmetrical look--at least that's what the note next to it said--"

When Hordak reached out a talon, Adora dropped it in his waiting palm. He rubbed a thumb over its surface, still warm from his sister's touch.

"It's exquisite," Hordak said, and Adora softly chuckled, pleased. Then after again asking Hordak if he was fine and Hordak again insisting he was, Adora went back to looking. Soon she amassed a pile of clothes and claimed one of the dressing stalls. By the time she came out wearing the first dress, Imp was settled in Hordak's lap, and Hordak had tried on the red diamond earring.

"Too long," Adora muttered. She went back in, and came out again in a new dress.

"Too much...um, ruffles?"

Dress number three. "This color's not working."

Back in, back out. "The embroidery's kinda too much."

Next. "Okay guys, what do you think of--?"

"You look like you got run over by a tank." Imp used a recording of Grizzlor's voice, and Hordak gave a scolding hiss.

With a flush running across both her ears and cheeks, Adora immediately ran back into the stall and snapped the curtain behind her. Imp glanced up at Hordak with a guilty look, realizing his joking had gone too far. "You will apologize to her later," he told Imp with a glare.

"Um, so I actually like...kinda like this one..." Adora's voice filtered out from behind the curtain of the stall, and the hesitancy in her voice made Imp's ears lower even more, and Hordak did not relent in the glare he favored him with. "But I dunno, it's...well, look--"

And Adora stepped out, with one talon gripping her other arm while her cheeks and the tips of her ears still flushed blue. Adora favored red, and all of the dresses she had tried on were different shades of it, but this one was the right sort of crimson that went well enough with her blue skin. The cut of it was simple, from its torso to the way the edge of its skirt flared out, but the structure of it suited Adora in his mind. Its belt was just as simple, and with an amber color that paired well with her bronze ear clasps.

"It's kinda basic, but..."

"You look lovely, Adora," Hordak said, and his sister's ears perked up.

"Beautiful." Imp conveyed with a recorded excerpt of Entrapta's voice.

Adora smiled, her blue fangs beaming.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments/reblogs/likes are deeply appreciated!

[viastro]

nobody knows | choi seungcheol

ミ★ synopsis: in which seungcheol is ordered to kill you, the secret daughter of his boss’s rival.

ミ★ genre: mafia!au, assassin!seungcheol, suspense, humor, fluff, some angst

ミ★ warnings: minor character death, mentions of blood and vomit 

ミ★ word count: 7,264

ミ★ pairings: seungcheol x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! it’s been a long time since i’ve written a oneshot, and i definitely did not mean for this to be as long as it is. it’s almost as long as daises omg. i haven’t put out a oneshot in a long time because i was dedicating so much time into finishing remember us, which i did ! so now i’ll be trying to write oneshots as much as i used to :D i’m not really a big fan of how this turned out but i hope you guys enjoy it ! i didn’t wanna scrap it just because i didn’t know how to fix it, so i hope it’s okay <3

“Changwoo has a daughter?” Sunghoon nods his head at the question, smirk taking over his features at this newfound information he’s been given. He glances at his personal assassin.

“I need you to kill her Cheol, as a means to show Changwoo that he shouldn’t harm what’s mine.” 

Seungcheol stares at his boss, knowing that he’s been angry about Changwoo killing his right hand man a few months ago. Having this information on his supposed daughter could either make things worse for the two rivals, or make the other mob boss back off. However, Seungcheol doesn’t get a say in these decisions. He can never choose to save anyone Sunghoon orders him to kill, even though he may want to. All he can say is, 

“Of course, sir.” 

“Thank you! Have a good day.” You say cheerfully, waving goodbye to the customer as they walk out the door, boba in hand. You let out a sigh once the door closes, placing your hands on the edge of the counter to close your eyes for a moment. 

“Yn, are you okay?” Opening your eyes, you look up to see your father’s bodyguard staring at you with a bit of concern laced in his features. You nod your head, giving him a thumbs up. 

“Just a bit tired Wonwoo, but I’m okay. I stayed up too late last night watching dramas again.” You joke, giving Wonwoo a bright smile to try and lessen his worry. He lets out a soft grin, shaking his head at you. “You should be sleeping earlier when you know that you have a shift the next day.” 

You shrug, “I know, but the drama was getting spicy. I highly recommend it’s okay to not be okay.” 

Wonwoo chuckles, telling you he’ll check it out when you guys get home. With that, he turns and walks back over to his table, where he will sit for the rest of your shift as it is his job to protect you when you’re out. 

You don’t know why your father even sends Wonwoo to be with you when you have your shift, or why he cares in the first place. You live in a different house than him, he doesn’t visit you at your apartment, the only time he goes out of his way to speak to you is when it’s your birthday. And even then, it’s just a short phone call.

He’s made it his, thing, to push you away the moment your mother passed when you were in high school. You know of his lifestyle, you know how he earns money, and you know that more than half of South Korea fears him. You may be the heir to one of the largest mafia bosses in South Korea, but you have made it clear you want nothing to do with that life. Your father knows that as well, but he decided to take it a step further and just pretend you don’t even exist.

But he gave you your freedom, as long as Wonwoo is by your side to make sure you’re safe. No one knows of your identity, there’s no knowledge of your father even having a child, but he still wants that extra protection on you. That’s why when you decided to move out of the house and into an apartment, he had Wonwoo go with you. 

He’s been with you for the last three years, even going to your on-campus classes. Wonwoo’s become the talk of the town with the ladies and gents there if we’re being honest. He’s not that much older than you, he has about three years over your head. He started working for your father as a drug runner, then he slowly rose up the ranks when it was discovered that he’s incredibly good with a gun and does martial arts. 

And that’s how you’re here now. At your shift with Wonwoo waiting at the table he always stays at when you work. Perfectly safe and sound.

Or so you thought.

“Do you have a picture of his daughter?” Mingyu asks, taking a sip of water as him and Seungcheol sit in the car in front of the boba shop you work at. Seungcheol nods his head, handing Mingyu the file so that he can look at it.

“Jesus Christ, this photo looks like it was taken ten years ago.” Mingyu mutters, looking at a very young version of you. It’s blurry as well, making it hard for him to get a good look at your features. Seungcheol lets out a sigh, squinting through the tinted car windows to try and look into the shop. “That’s because it was taken ten years ago. No one has seen her since then.”  

“What if she’s cute now? She’s just a couple years younger than you.” Mingyu asks, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly. Seungcheol turns his head and looks at his colleague/best friend, giving him a bored expression. “Did you forget that my mission is to kill her?” 

Mingyu shrugs, turning his head to glance out the window. “No, I remember.” 

“Then why did you ask such a ridiculous question? You know our line of work Mingyu, can’t have anyone in our lives that can make us vulnerable.” Seungcheol reminds the younger, and he nods. Mingyu just stares quietly out the window, feeling slightly upset by the reminder of the life that they live. 

Seungcheol looks at Mingyu for a moment, knowing that he doesn’t enjoy this lifestyle. Didn’t want to get dragged into it, but was desperate for money. Now he’s in too deep, and there’s no signs of getting out of it until he’s older and not of use anymore. Seungcheol can say that he’s the same, except the only way he can get out of this business is for him to die, or to kill his boss and take over. However, he’d never do the latter, no matter how much he wants to.

“Let’s get going now.” Seungcheol states, opening the door and stepping out of the car without another word on the subject. Mingyu lets out a sigh, opening the door to the car and hopping out. He follows after Seungcheol, shoving his phone in his pocket as they walk into the small boba shop. 

You turn around at the sound of the bells from the door, about to flash a big smile at the customers that walked in, only to feel your breath get caught in your throat when you lock eyes with the blonde haired man. 

His eyes are a deep brown. It’s the first thing you notice about him, and you can’t seem to find yourself backing down from his intense stare. In fact, you don’t want to, and Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at that. 

“It’s definitely her.” Mingyu mutters under his breath, pretending that he’s telling Seungcheol what he wants to order. However, his friend doesn’t answer him. Mingyu opens his mouth to repeat what he said, only to turn his head to find Seungcheol staring directly back at you with a glint in his eyes that he can’t seem to decipher. 

“Yn, it’s time for your break.” You snap out of the intense staring contest with the handsome man when Chanhee steps out from the back, preparing to take over for you. You give him a smile, “Thanks Chanhee.” 

“Of course yn. Oh, by the way, are you going to get food from next door?” You purse your lips as you think for a moment, before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great, can you get me the greek fries? I’ll pay you back.” You laugh, reaching out and patting your pink haired coworker, giving him a thumbs up. 

Seungcheol watches the whole interaction in a dazed state, and Mingyu is left standing beside him incredibly confused. Mingyu’s never seen Seungcheol like this before, usually when they’re out on a job he’s stoic and swift. However, Seungcheol just stands there staring as you turn back around to glance at him, giving him a small smile before walking into the breakroom. Now out of sight. 

“Are you oka-”

“We can’t kill her.” Seungcheol murmurs, turning to look at Mingyu with a serious expression on his face. Mingyu’s eyes widen at the absurd confession, one that he never thought he’d hear Seungcheol make. “I beg your pardon?” 

“We can’t-”

“Are you guys ready to order?” Chanhee asks the two with a grin on his face, and they immediately change their attitudes, flashing the man a smile. Mingyu walks up to the counter first, looking up at the menu before beginning to order. “Yes. I’ll have the hokkaido milk tea.”

All while Wonwoo watches from the table, eyeing Seungcheol suspiciously as he drinks the fruit tea you made him. 

“Hi! Welcome to Tsukki Tea!” You greet cheerfully, looking up from the register to see the handsome man from a week before. Your eyes widen slightly, and the blonde haired man tilts his head at you. 

“Are you ready to order?” You ask slowly, unable to look away from his face. You didn’t comprehend how handsome he was at his last visit due to you having to go on your break, but now that you’re getting a good look at him, he’s incredibly attractive. 

“I’ll have the brown sugar milk tea.” The blonde says, and you feel your knees wobble at his deep voice. You nod your head, putting his order into the system as you hear your heart beat rapidly within your chest. 

“Your friend isn’t with you today?” You ask as he pays for the drink, initiating small talk. He freezes slightly, glancing up at you, “Huh?”

“Your friend. The really tall one from last week, I noticed he wasn’t with you today.” You explain, a nervous smile appearing on your face due to how much you regret asking him the question. He lets out an, ah, before shaking his head. 

“He has work today so I came on my own.” He answers, giving you a reassuring smile, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks at the pretty sight. You immediately glance back down at the touchscreen, ripping his receipt and holding it out towards the handsome man. 

“Can I have a name for your order?” You ask, and he gives you a grin. “My name is Seungcheol.” 

You nod your head, writing his name down on the cup. You can’t help but think that his name is pretty as well, quietly muttering it to yourself as you put the cap back onto the pen. Seungcheol notices this, and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking of how precious you are. 

“Your order will be ready shortly.” You tell him, and Seungcheol nods his head. He walks over to an empty table, sitting down and pulling out his phone to check his messages. 

Seungcheol told Sunghoon that he needed some time to scope you out. To understand your schedule, and find out when you’re alone. He was lucky that his boss believed it, but what he doesn’t know is that Seungcheol isn’t doing any of that. 

The assassin just wants to get to know you. 

When Seungcheol told Mingyu the first day they saw you that he can’t kill you, Mingyu didn’t believe him. He thought it was just from lack of sleep, or he was just pranking him. However, he came to find out that it wasn’t from either of those reasons at all. That Seungcheol was serious.

“You’re never like this Cheol, why can’t you kill her? It’s never been hard for you before.” Mingyu says, taking a sip from his boba as they drive back to headquarters. Seungcheol just stares silently out the window, biting his finger as he thinks of why he can’t kill you. 

He doesn’t have an answer to that.

“I haven’t found the answer yet.” Seungcheol simply responds, and Mingyu turns to glance at him with a flabbergasted expression on his face. 

“WHAT?!” 

“I’ll figure it out along the way.” Seungcheol mutters, still wondering why his heartbeat quickens when he thinks of your bright smile. Mingyu just scoffs, leaning back into the driver’s seat. 

“I know that I said she might be cute and insinuated that you fall in love with her, but it was absolutely a joke. What if the boss finds out that you aren’t actually going to kill her?” Mingyu asks, and Seungcheol purses his lips at the reminder. He lets out a sigh, frowning as he thinks of an excuse to give him. 

“I got it.” 

“Do you?”

“Probably not.”

“Seungcheol!”

Wonwoo glares at the mysterious man from across the shop, wondering what his intentions are with you. He tilts his head to the side, glancing back at his phone while he wonders why the name Seungcheol seems so familiar to him. 

You take the finished boba out from the machine that adds the plastic seal, walking over to the counter. You grab a straw and place it on top of the lid, “Order for Seungcheol!” 

The man in question turns towards you at the call of his name, letting out a small smile. He stands up from the table, walking over to you and gratefully taking the boba. 

“I hope you enjoy it, Seungcheol.” You say softly, and he takes notice of the twinkle in your gaze. 

“What’s your name?” He asks, smiling down at you.

You glance up at the man with your eyes slightly widened, having not expected him to ask a question. He tilts his head to the side in amusement, and you let out a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“My name is yn.” You answer, and he nods his head.

“Well, thank you for the boba yn. I’ll be sure to enjoy it since you made it for me.” Seungcheol says in a sweet tone, causing you to smile. You wave bye to him as he steps out, and he waves back at you before closing the door. You let out a sigh once he’s out of the shop, resting a hand over your beating heart. 

“He’s too handsome.” You mumble, before turning towards the sink. Wonwoo watches as you begin to clean the station, small smile on your face as you do so, and he feels himself growing more concerned. 

“I gotta find out who he is.”

“Seungcheol, it’s been close to three weeks. Why isn’t the girl dead yet?” Sunghoon asks as Seungcheol cleans his gun quietly. He freezes slightly, before quickly relaxing, turning to glance up at his boss. 

In complete honesty, Seungcheol is shitting his pants at the moment. Him and Mingyu have been planning on how to not kill yn without letting their boss know, and they don’t really have a good idea. However, Seungcheol spends his days going to visit you at the boba shop. The conversations between you and him continue to grow longer each time he goes. To the point that he waits for you to get on your break so that the two of you can spend it getting to know each other. 

He’s discovered that you started working at the boba shop because of your serious addiction towards the drink, and that you wanted to learn how to make it yourself. He’s also learned that you’re allergic to bees, yet you love flowers and nature with a passion. Seungcheol finds you to be rather endearing, especially when you brightly tell him stories.

While you’ve learned that Seungcheol is a very simple guy. He enjoys working out in his spare time, and would like to own a dog. You asked him why he hasn’t adopted one yet, but he just gave you a small smile, shaking his head and saying that it’s not the time for him to get one.

“She has a bodyguard on hand at all times, I wouldn’t want to cause a bigger mess.” Seungcheol lies with ease after a second of thinking, and the man before him squints slightly. He leans forward towards the assassin, the power and influence he has radiating off of him in waves. 

“Since when has making a mess been a concern to you, Seungcheol?” Sunghoon asks in an icey tone, and Seungcheol stops wiping the cloth over his silencer. He glances up at his boss, keeping eye contact as they practically stare each other down. 

“Do I need to remind you of who you work for?” Seungcheol hears his heartbeat in his ears, knowing damn well what his boss is capable of. He’s known since he was a child. So Seungcheol shakes his head, visibly backing down from the oncoming fight that was going to break out. 

“Good. I want her dead by the end of next week Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, but hear me out.” You begin, and Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile. You lean forward in your seat, staring directly into his pretty eyes, causing a small blush to form on his cheeks. 

“Bigfoot.”

“No.”

“But Cheol! They have to be real.” You state, and the latter just shakes his head at you, taking a sip of the boba you made for him before you went on your break. He lets out a breath, “Yn, if bigfoot was real, then someone would’ve caught them by now. There’s no way a creature with big ass feet and is apparently really tall wouldn’t have been captured by now.” 

This is one of the many ridiculous conversations you and Seungcheol have had since the two of you have gotten closer. Seungcheol looks like the epitome of relaxed as the two of you converse, but what you don’t know is that there’s a storm running within him as he realizes what he has to do the longer he stares into your bright eyes.

You frown at the handsome man, leaning back into your seat with a pout on your lips. Seungcheol coos at you, reaching out to squeeze your cheek, and you slap his hand away. He lets out a hiss of pain even though it didn’t hurt, rubbing the back of his hand. You try not to peek, but when Seungcheol begins blowing on the area you hit, you can’t help but look up. 

You reach out and take his hand, and Seungcheol’s eyes widen when you pull it towards you, blowing softly on the back of his hand. Warmth rises to his cheeks, as do yours, but you both pretend that you’re not at all flustered by the action. After a moment, you glance up at Seungcheol, “Are you okay now?” 

He immediately looks away from the direct eye contact, feeling too shy to even sputter any words. You let out a smile at the sight, softly resting his hand back onto the table. Seungcheol mutters a quiet, thanks, and you chuckle, finishing the last of your boba. 

“I still think bigfoot is real.” You pettily mutter, and Seungcheol lets out a laugh. 

“In your dreams, yn.” 

Wonwoo watches from his table, pursing his lips at the sight of you and Seungcheol having gotten so close in a matter of a few weeks. He still doesn’t know anything about Seungcheol, having not done any research as of late. However, he leans back in his seat, now decided on what he has to do.

Seungcheol’s about to step into the boba shop when he’s grabbed by a hand and pulled into the alley. He immediately reaches for the gun in his waistband, only to freeze when he realizes that it’s no longer in his possession. His eyes slowly trail up, and he finds your bodyguard standing in front of him, his own silencer held in his hands, pointed directly towards Seungcheol’s head.

“So you work for Sunghoon, huh?” Wonwoo asks, not breaking eye contact with Seungcheol. Wonwoo did some digging, because he knew Seungcheol’s name was all too familiar. Which was when he discovered that Seungcheol is Sunghoon’s personal assassin. His boss’s rival mafia leader.

“You did a background check, Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks, and the latter shrugs, chuckling darkly. 

“I can’t let yn get hurt.” Wonwoo states, squinting at the assassin standing before him. Seungcheol shakes his head, “I’m not going to kill yn.”

“Bullshit. You never pull back from a job, I saw it in my search on you.” Wonwoo exclaims, moving to turn the safety off when Seungcheol raises his hands up in surrender. “I’m really not. I plan to kill Sunghoon to protect yn.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly, before squinting again. “And how do I know you’re not lying?” 

Seungcheol stares into Wonwoo’s eyes, hoping that his honesty shines through his gaze. He lets out a breath, “Cause I would’ve killed her by now. I know you did your research on me, you should know that all my victims died by my hand in 1-2 days after the assignment was given to me.”

Wonwoo does know that Seungcheol’s assignments would die in a matter of days when they were first presented. That’s why this information causes him to hesitate for a moment, but it doesn't make him remove his finger from the trigger. 

“What do you want with yn?” Wonwoo asks, and Seungcheol surprises the black haired man by giving him a small smile. 

“I want her to live peacefully like she is now. I want her to be happy.” 

The two stare each other down after Seungcheol’s confession, thinking to themselves. It’s after a minute or so that Wonwoo lets his arm fall to his side, turning the safety back on. Seungcheol almost sighs in relief, only to visibly pause when he catches Wonwoo still squinting at him. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Wonwoo asks, handing the silencer back to Seungcheol. He quickly puts it back in the waistband of his jeans, before giving your bodyguard an amused grin. “What? You gonna help me kill my own boss?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, finally cracking a smile. “It’ll keep yn safe, and it’ll also give me brownie points with my own boss. I don’t see why not.” 

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He leans back onto the brick wall of the alleyway, finding himself enjoying Wonwoo’s company even though he did almost die because of him. Seungcheol glances up at the dark sky, seeing the stars shining brightly. 

“I’m killing him at midnight.” He breathes out, and Wonwoo nods his head. He looks at his watch, seeing that it’s 8:50 pm, meaning you’ll be getting off your shift in a few minutes. So they have to wrap up this conversation soon.

“Well, you gonna pick me up later or what?” Wonwoo asks, and Seungcheol laughs quietly. He nods his head, glancing back down at the black haired man, finding him smiling as well. “Of course, it would be rude of me not to drive around the man who offered to help me kill a mafia leader.” 

“Ah yes, finally. A man with morals.”

Seungcheol and Mingyu step into the building, calmly walking towards the elevators to get to Sunghoon’s office. Wonwoo stayed behind in the car, where he’s currently hacking into the security system so that he can cut off the video feed when the deed is done. He’s already erasing the data of Mingyu and Seungcheol even being in the building in the first place.

“You think he’s gonna put up a fight?” Mingyu asks quietly, and Seungcheol scoffs. 

“Of course he is, but do you think he can win?” Mingyu ponders the question for a moment, before turning to Seungcheol and flashing him a mischievous smile. “Against the best assassin in Seoul? No.” 

“Checking the video feed now.” Wonwoo mutters into his mic, typing into his laptop. Seungcheol and Mingyu say a quick response back, continuing to walk towards the office.

Wonwoo goes through the video feed, trying to see if Sunghoon is just in his office like Seungcheol claimed he would be. Only to freeze when he sees who else is in the room with the powerful man. Wonwoo panics, immediately moving to speak into the mic when the connection gets cut out. 

“NO!” Wonwoo yells, watching with wide eyes as Mingyu and Seungcheol walk right into the room. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu look like the definition of ease when they step into the room, with Mingyu even cracking a smile at Sunghoon. Seungcheol opens his mouth to greet their boss, only to stop when he looks towards the chair by the desk, catching your frightened eyes.

There’s a towel stuffed in your mouth, preventing you from talking. There’s tear tracks on your cheeks, and your wrists are zip tied behind your back as you cry silently in fear. Sunghoon lets out a smile at the sight of his assassin standing in pure shock, head cocking to the side. 

“Took you too long to kill her, so I got impatient.” Sunghoon slyly explains, glancing over at you with a cheeky grin. You look away immediately, closing your eyes as more tears fall from them. You begin to regret letting Wonwoo go out for the night, or else you wouldn’t even be in this situation at the moment. 

“Yn, I need to be somewhere tonight. Is it okay if you stay home alone? I promise to be back in a couple hours.” Wonwoo tells you, and you peek your head out from the kitchen, glancing at the bodyguard who suddenly looks timid. You let out a happy smile, happy that Wonwoo is finally going out to do something. 

Since he was assigned to be your bodyguard, he hasn’t had a day or night to himself. Never even asked you for one, so obviously you’re going to let him. You nod your head, bouncing over to him with a big smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to raise an eyebrow at you. 

“Did you want me to leave that bad?” Wonwoo teases, and you slap his shoulder with a chuckle. 

“No! You just haven’t gone out without me since you became my bodyguard. Which was three years ago…” You trail off, having not realized how long it’s been. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, trying to hide the fact that the reason he’s going out is still for your safety. 

“Don’t pity me now. I enjoy my time with you, yn.” 

“Do you have friends, Wonwoo?” Wonwoo glares at you, having not appreciated the question. He slips on his shoes, turning and heading towards the door. You let out a laugh at his reaction, waving bye to him. 

“Remember to lock the door after I leave and turn on the alarm. Don’t answer the door, no one should even be knocking on it anyways. If anything happens, call me or your dad, okay?” You nod your head, and Wonwoo lets out a nervous breath. He glances up at you one more time, feeling his heart pound as he hopes you’ll be safe with him gone. 

“I’ll be back soon, yn.” And with that, Wonwoo walks out the door. 

It’s only within an hour of being alone that you hear a knock on your door, and you cautiously reach for your phone when you hear it again. Your hand wraps around your phone, only to freeze when you hear the locks turn and the door opens. You quickly run to your room, locking the door quietly behind you and rushing under your bed. You make sure the sheet underneath the mattress shields your body from view, before pulling out your phone in the cramped space. You move to text Wonwoo, only to freeze when you hear the doorknob jiggle. 

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you worry that the assailant can hear it from how silent it is in your apartment. You quickly turn on your phone, managing to pull up your conversation with Wonwoo when the door unlocks, and you freeze in fear. You turn off your phone so that the light won’t show from underneath your bed, and you stay as silent as you can as you hear the person’s shoes step around your bedroom. 

You watch as the person moves to walk out of your room, but you don’t dare make a sound until you can no longer hear their footsteps. You’re about to let out a quiet breath of relief, pulling up your phone to text Wonwoo when the person lifts up the sheet, staring directly at you with a smile on his face.

“Hello, yln yn.”

“Boss-” Seungcheol begins, only for Sunghoon to raise a hand up to stop him from speaking. The pieces slowly come together as to why he couldn’t get a dog, why he always redirected the conversation when asked about his life. Seungcheol catches your eyes, and he sees the betrayal in your gaze. He mouths that it’s going to be okay, and you look down at your legs, wanting nothing more than to leave. 

“Care to explain why I heard plans of you and Mingyu trying to kill me?” Sunghoon asks, eyes squinting at the two. Mingyu stiffens beside Seungcheol, and your eyes widen, beginning to wonder if Seungcheol is actually on your side. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu don’t respond for a second. With Mingyu internally panicking about whether or not he should lie, and Seungcheol pondering on how to answer the question. However, Seungcheol decides not to answer it, instead pulling out his silencer from his waistband in a matter of seconds, pointing it directly at his boss’s head.

Mingyu steps over to you as Seungcheol and Sunghoon stare each other down. You look at Seungcheol’s friend from the day they first stepped into the boba shop, and he gives you an apologetic smile. Mingyu reaches into his waistband, pulling out his knife, beginning to cut off your zip tie. “Sorry to meet you on such bad terms, Cheol has told me a lot about you.” 

“I didn’t believe it when I caught wind of the rumor. After all these years, you’re going to kill me just like that? Over our rival’s daughter?” Sunghoon asks, eyes not faltering from Seungcheol. He stands up from the table at Seungcheol’s silence, letting out a smile at the fact that Seungcheol hasn’t pulled the trigger.

“For yn?” Seungcheol begins, and you glance up at the blonde. He locks eyes with you for a moment, letting out a breath. Seungcheol turns back towards Sunghoon, squinting at the man. “Anything.” 

“You’re not really going to kill me for her, right Seungcheol?” 

Seungcheol lets out a breath, before turning the safety off the gun. You watch the confrontation unfold with wide eyes as Mingyu works on cutting the ropes wrapped around your legs and the chair. 

“I’ve always hated you.” Seungcheol mutters, pressing his finger to the trigger. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, “You wish I just left you at that crack house where I found you? Seungcheol, I made you-”

“You made me into a monster!” Seungcheol shouts, hand shaking as he points the gun towards his boss’s head. Mingyu and you jump slightly at the raise of his voice, having not expected Seungcheol to lose his temper. Mingyu quickly takes off your gag, and you stand up from the chair, holding onto the back of Mingyu’s shirt as the two of you try to silently leave the room.

“You made me into a man that kills people, for your own gain.” Sunghoon listens in silence, watching Seungcheol's hand tremble. The blonde blinks back tears, feeling all the pain he’s hidden slowly pouring out as he stares at the man who practically raised him. He takes a deep breath, before applying more pressure to the trigger.

“That’s why I’m going to kill you for my own.” Seungcheol states, about to pull the trigger when Sunghoon knocks the gun out of his hands. Seungcheol reaches out to grab it quickly, but Sunghoon is faster as he kicks Seungcheol in the stomach unexpectedly, winding him in the process. Sunghoon grabs the gun in the short time that Seungcheol is out of it, and raises it into the air.

“Did you forget I taught you everything you know, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol’s eyes stare at the gun pointed in his direction. You and Mingyu are frozen in place, with Mingyu’s hand resting over his own gun in the waistband of his pants. 

“Drop the gun onto the floor Mingyu, or else he dies.” Sunghoon threatens, and Mingyu glares. Seungcheol nods his head at Mingyu, and the latter slowly rests the gun onto the carpeted floor, before glancing back up at Sunghoon.

“Yn and Mingyu didn’t do anything, just kill me.” Seungcheol says, and Sunghoon shoots him a glance. He rolls his eyes, and you feel your breath hitch when he adjusts his hold on the gun.

“You’re right. However, remember what you learned?” Sunghoon asks, and Seungcheol feels his heart sink. The mafia boss chuckles at his silence, letting out a breath.”You know this Seungcheol, it’s the first thing I taught you when you were a kid. The loved ones always pay the price.” Sunghoon states, letting out a laugh at the harsh glare the blonde is throwing his way. He tilts his head to the side, before glancing over at you, finding delight in the fear on your face.

“Goodbye, yn.” 

Seungcheol shouts when Sunghoon quickly turns the gun in your direction, reaching out to stop him, while Mingyu moves to shield your body with his.

The loud sound of the gunshot echoes around the room, and you’re holding Mingyu’s shirt tightly in your hands. Your eyes slowly open at the sound of a body falling to the floor, and you look up to see Mingyu still standing safe and sound. Both of your eyes widen at the same time, and you turn to find Sunghoon slumped to the floor, blood pouring out of his lifeless body. 

You glance up to see Seungcheol staring at the door, and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, gun held in his hands. He slumps onto the door frame, letting out a tired sigh.

“God damn it you guys. I told you to move in on my signal, yet when the connection cut out, the two of you still went inside.” Wonwoo complains, reaching his hand up and wiping away the beads of sweat that formed from sprinting all the way here. Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. Mingyu lets out a breath of relief, walking over to Seungcheol to ask if he’s okay. All while you just stand there, suddenly realizing that there’s a dead body right in front of you. 

“O-oh my God.” You mutter as your vision slowly goes in and out, and Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he remembers that you’re incredibly sensitive to blood. Everything fades to black and you begin to fall, causing Wonwoo to take a step forward in an attempt to catch you.

However, Seungcheol’s faster as he runs over and wraps his arms around you, catching your passed out body before you hit the floor. He sighs, moving the strands of hair that rest on your face. He turns towards Wonwoo and Mingyu, finding them also feeling relieved at the fact that he caught you. 

Wonwoo lets out a breath after a moment, glancing over towards the dead body. He pulls out his phone and begins to take pictures, causing Mingyu to raise an eyebrow at the odd behavior. Seungcheol also stares at Wonwoo, but he knows why he’s documenting the experience.

“Don’t worry Mingyu, I’m just doing this so that my boss gives me brownie points.” Wonwoo mutters, before deciding that he’s taken enough. He quickly sends it to your father, before pocketing his phone and looking up at the three of you.

“Let’s bring yn home.” 

You wake up to the smell of fried rice, and you feel your stomach grumble at the scent. Letting out a sigh, you reach up and rub your eyes, only to freeze when all the memories from the night before resurface. You sit up in bed, only to pause when you register the hand gripping yours. You turn your head, finding the familiar head of blonde hair resting on the edge of your bed. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, wondering why he stayed with you as you slept. The question gets answered once you look up and see Wonwoo leaning against your doorframe, taking a bite of a strawberry as he gives you a small smile. 

“You were having nightmares on the way back, so Seungcheol wanted to stay by your side to make sure they weren’t too bad. Guess he fell asleep though.” Wonwoo explains, and you feel your heart warm slightly. You run a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling the need to vomit at the memory of Sunghoon’s dead body. 

Wonwoo’s way ahead of you, as he is now walking over with a garbage bag. You silently thank him, clutching the plastic with a tight fist as you try to forget the visual. Seungcheol stirs in his sleep, holding your hand a bit tighter as he pouts. The sight calms you down, and you let out a quiet coo. 

“Your dad plans to visit later to make sure that you’re okay, by the way.” You nod your head at the newfound information. For some reason, you never expected that getting kidnapped and almost murdered would get your father to come and visit you. 

but alas...

“Do you approve of Seungcheol, Wonwoo?” You ask quietly, choosing to let go of the plastic bag in order to softly pat Seungcheol’s sleeping head. Wonwoo shrugs, tilting his head to the side. 

“He killed his own mafia boss in order to protect you. I’d say that’s more than enough to consider him as a good guy.” Wonwoo answers, and you let out a smile. With that, Wonwoo walks out of the room, now out of earshot. 

“Wake up, you’ve been approved.” You mutter, patting Seungcheol’s head. He opens one eye, glancing up at you with a small smile. 

“How’d you know I was awake?” Seungcheol asks, and you shrug in response. It’s a trick you don’t think you want him to know yet. He lets out a smile, squeezing your hand once again. He lets out a tired yawn, letting go of your hand in order to stretch his arms above his head.

“What will happen to you and Mingyu now? You did kill a man who has a lot of power in South Korea after my father.” Seungcheol leans back into his seat, not wanting to remind you that Wonwoo was the one who actually killed Sunghoon in order to not let the image come back into your mind. 

“Mingyu and I did a lot of digging, that’s where we found out most of the people working under Sunghoon hated him. By most I mean around 90%, by the way.” Seungcheol explains, and you let out a quiet, ah. “So they were fine with you killing Sunghoon?” 

Seungcheol nods his head, “Precisely.” 

“What about the other ten percent?” You ask. Seungceol opens his mouth to respond, only to stop when he sees Mingyu and Wonwoo standing in the doorway. You raise an eyebrow at the sight of Mingyu wearing your apron, but you decide to close your eyes. 

“Breakfast is ready.” Mingyu announces, and the two flash you and Seungcheol a mischievous smile before stepping back out of your room. You let out a sigh, turning back towards Seungcheol. 

“Guess we’ll find out, mm? For now, let’s go and eat breakfast.” Seungcheol says, and you purse your lips, before nodding in agreement. You climb out of your bed, leading the way towards the dining table to find Mingyu and Wonwoo already eating without you two. 

“Rude, didn’t even wait for us.” You tease, and Wonwoo chuckles. 

“Not our fault you and the new mafia leader are slow.” Mingyu responds, taking a sip of his coffee. You squint at the latter, and he just flashes you a smile. 

“Ew, don’t call me that Mingyu.” Seungcheol mumbles, taking a bite of the fried rice that was prepared. 

“I’ll call you what I want to, leader.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“How could you say that in front of your future girlfrie-” 

And with that, Seungcheol launches himself across the table, causing the two to start wrestling on your wooden floor. Wonwoo and you let out a sigh, turning to each other and smiling. 

“What a strange breakfast.” You mutter, no hint of malice behind your smile as you and Wonwoo watch the two fake fight on the floor. You tilt your head, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh when he sees no sign of them stopping. 

“I’ll stop them.” Wonwoo mumbles, getting up from his chair and walking over to the two. He pats his elbow, then jumps onto them, eliciting a loud groan from Seungcheol and Mingyu. You giggle quietly, shaking your head and taking a sip of water at the chorus of complaints of how sharp Wonwoo’s elbow is from Seungcheol. 

You tried to get out of the mafia life your father lives by moving out. That obviously didn’t work as you have a new mafia leader on the floor of your dining room who saved your life the night before. However, the longer you stare at Seungcheol as he laughs with Mingyu and Wonwoo, you find yourself rather grateful for the events that unfolded since meeting Seungcheol. 

He turns and catches your gaze, immediately smiling at you. He waves you over so that you can help him up off the floor, and you roll your eyes. You stand up from the chair and walk over to him, extending your hand out towards the man. 

“Can’t even lift yourself up off the floor?” You tease, and Seungcheol rolls his eyes. He takes your hand, and you pull him up off the floor. 

“Gives me an excuse to hold your hand.” Seungcheol responds cheekily, and you scoff at his answer, although the rising warmth to your face clearly says otherwise. Mingyu and Wonwoo glance at each other, both taking turns to make vomit noises at the two of you. 

“Get a ROOM!” 

“Disgusting.” 

“Not my fault you guys are lonely!” You shout back, and Wonwoo squints at you. 

“It is your fault.”

“Shhh.”

“Yn!” 

“Wonwoo!” Seungcheol grins when you and Wonwoo begin to squabble, letting out a happy sigh. Mingyu stands up from the floor, letting out a sigh at the sight of you and Wonwoo arguing.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mingyu yells, raising his hand up, causing you and Wonwoo to pause mid-argument. You both turn to glance at Mingyu, finding him and Seungcheol staring at the two of you with amused looks on their faces.

“Eat now, argue later.” Mingyu states, and you and Wonwoo share a look, before moving and sitting back down in your seats to continue eating. 

“It is your fault, by the way.” Wonwoo mutters, and you glare at him. Seungcheol snickers behind his hand, taking a spoonful of fried rice to stop the noise from escaping. 

“Fuck you, Wonwoo.”

“How could you say that in front of your future boyfr-” And with that, it’s now your turn to launch yourself across the table and onto Wonwoo. 

Mingyu lets out a tired sigh, choosing to ignore the loud bickering from behind him. While Seungcheol chuckles at the sight, finding himself at peace for the first time. 

seungcheol was finally able to save someone. 

You let out a giggle at Wonwoo’s pained expression from falling backwards onto the floor, and Seungcheol feels his heart warm from the sound.

and this time, it was you.

[notchesandbullets]

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

A/N: dedicated to the anon who wanted me to write a oneshot about ojiro giving the reader a gift, this fanfic is for you 💖💖 this is incredibly self-indulgent and ive been working on it for over a month now. its almost done but i’ll post what i have so far, i hope you like it!!

Contains reluctant Aizawa to soft Dadzawa, annoying brother Shinsou, pure Eri-chan, bakugou's notorious cursing, sweet and innocent fluff between reader-chan and Ojiro. First friend Ojiro to best friend and then lover. Featuring the rest of Class 1-A and them acting like hooligans.

Part 1: Crashing into Ojiro, Room Competition, meeting Class 1-A and Aizawa, who has some bad news for you when you’re discovered.

Word Count: 7k 

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the busy city of Musutafu.

Ojiro had planned on taking Tokoyami with him, but his friend was still in the middle of unpacking as he was leaving.

He was on the way back to the dorms from the grocery store with a bag of ingredients and sweets as per Sato's request. It was a bit longer of a walking distance since he was so used to coming from his house and would take some getting used to, now that Heights Alliance was his home.

The streets weren't any busier than usual, but when he saw something flicker out of the corner of his eyes off to the side, he couldn't help but feel as though something was wrong.

Maybe it was his hero blood or something stronger but he didn't waste any time diving into action.

As he rounded the corner, his eyes widened as someone crashed into him, nearly toppling him over. He caught his balance just in time, steadying the person that had collided into his chest but not before he saw it.

Blood matting down your hair had his heart dropping in horror. You were trembling in his arms, positively terrified and it didn't take long to figure out what the cause of your stress was when two more figures slinked out of the shadows.

Ojiro acted quickly, using his tail to whisk the two of you higher until you were out of sight. He curled his arms tightly but carefully around your waist, making sure that you wouldn't fall.

Thanks to Ectoplasm's guidance, he had refined his skills and learned how to be unpredictable.

It wasn't until you two were safely on top of the nearest roof did he loosen his grip. Leaning over the edge cautiously, he watched the strangers bolt off in opposite directions, presumably to look for you. He was pretty sure they didn't see him take you away but he wasn't completely certain. Pulling back, he released you from his hold. But he didn't take any offense to the way you practically flew from his touch.

He could see it in your eyes. Fear as deep as yours shouldn't ever be allowed to get that far, for anyone.

You hugged your trembling body with your arms, desperately willing the anxiety to die down so that you could think straight. All you could think about was running. Far, far away where no one could get to you.

"Ah... sorry to take you away so suddenly like that, but it looked like you seemed to be in trouble." Ojiro apologized.

His sheepish tone made you finally break out of your thoughts and for a moment, the two of you didn't say anything, both of you enamored with the other as you got a proper look.

He didn't think he had ever seen anyone as beautiful as you before. Round orbs blinking up at him curiously, your fuzzy ears perched on top of your head perked up as you met his gaze, bushy tail twitching behind you.

As for you, your mouth dried at the sight of your savior. His golden hair and kind smile made your heart skip a beat for reasons unknown to you. You couldn't stop your tail from thumping excitedly against the rooftop when you saw his tail.

It was much bigger and looked much stronger than yours was and you couldn't stop from bounding over to it eagerly, stretching out a tentative hand to touch it.

But you halted at the last second and recoiled, expecting to be punished for your behavior.

Ojiro frowned, taking notice of your trepidation and offered you an encouraging smile. "It's okay, you can touch it if you'd like."

He lifted his tail slightly, inviting your curiosity forth and a bit nervously, you reached out your hand once again. A wide smile split your features as you felt the soft, short fur underneath, your other hand going up to pet your ears, as if to compare the softness.

Ojiro couldn't help but match your smile at that, finding it adorable. Tucking his legs underneath him so that you could still play with his tail, he breached the topic sensitively.

"What's your name?" He asked quietly. "Who were those guys that were after you?"

At first, you seized up and for a minute there, he was worried he went about asking you the wrong way. But a deep sigh left your lungs and testing the waters, you timidly introduced yourself and began to explain in a concise way, your current situation.

You honestly weren't entirely sure how you got there.

But one bad thing after another landed you in a pretty rough neighborhood notorious for Quirk Traffickers. They looked for people with unique abilities that would sell well on the black market. People paid a lot of money to own those they deemed exotic, particularly kids and teens with quirks that had an effect on their physical appearance.

You were no exception, having been cursed with an extremely rare wolf quirk. All it ever brought you was trouble.

You had heard that quirks were hereditary but yours definitely wasn't. You don't know which ancestor it came from when it appeared out of the blue.

Tiny fangs, fluffy ears and a tail emerged one day. But your excitement of discovering it was short-lived when you were abandoned by your parents the very next day. They had found it disgusting.

Young and innocent, you wandered the streets, not sure what you were supposed to do. That's when they caught you.

You bounced from one owner to another, never staying in one place for very long. You had been brought back to their base of operations in Japan, your last master less than satisfied with you since all you did was hide out of fear of everyone, lashing out when he tried to approach you.

You may or may not have bitten a guest when they tried to touch your ears.

Back in your homeland, that's when you saw your opening.

You didn't know what propelled your legs to start running from the men but pretty soon you were out of breath and out of options. Alone in the alleyway, but not for long, you frantically scanned for an escape route.

And that's when you crashed into him.

A shadow fell over Ojiro's face as he heard you explain your past, hands balling into fists at his sides. He wouldn't stand behind while someone was tormenting you. No hero would allow something like this to continue.

Coming to his decision instantly, he stood up, extending a hand out to you.

"Y/N, will you come with me?" He asked, gaze unwavering. "I think I know where you'll be safe, at least for now."

You paused, skeptical. "I-I... I don't know."

He squatted down beside you, patting your head gently. If there was more time, he would've been more patient but he couldn't help but feel uneasy the longer you guys stayed out in the open. Even if you were out of sight, a rooftop wasn't a permanent place for you to hide out in.

Your eyes went wide but you didn't shrink away. You didn't know why. Anytime someone reached for your head, they always had this glint in their eyes, but this time, he looked desperate.

Desperate for you to believe him.

"You must have a hard time trusting people after all you've been through." Ojiro empathized before urgency seeped into his tone. "I really don't want to leave you alone. My sensei might be able to help you but only if you come with me."

You still didn't look entirely convinced but he didn't blame you.

"If you don't like what he says, then you don't have to listen." Ojiro reassured you easily. "No one's going to force you to do anything. You can make your own choice but let me at least give you more options."

That was what finally made you drop your guard, still wary but choosing to trust him for now. After all, he did save you earlier.

You put your hand in his, cheeks warming as he squeezed it slightly.

"Okay."

The two of you traveled to Heights Alliance, the dormitory for Class 1-A of UA High School. He immediately found his teacher, Aizawa, and told him of your circumstances. The man's rough and rugged appearance caused fear to flash through you but only for an instant.

He concealed it well but he seemed kind. Not outwardly like Ojiro, but it was enough to reassure you for now.

All throughout Ojiro's explanation, you hid behind his broad back, shivering at the way his tail curled around your waist to keep you close to him.

It was weird. It didn't feel restricting like you expected it to, it almost felt protective. You kind of liked it. You giggled as the furry tip of his tail tickled your nose playfully and you batted at it, eyes shining as you momentarily forgot where you were.

Aizawa was silent as his student finished explaining why he had a wolf girl attached to his side, scratching the back of his neck as he racked his brain to come up with a solution that wouldn't land you back in that same place again but also without compromising the safety of his students.

Since you were an orphan and a minor, the police would most likely take you to an orphanage, in which case the people looking for you would certainly find you. Aizawa called Principal Nezu and got permission from him to house you at the dorms until the threat hanging over your head was dealt with by the authorities.

You blinked when he asked you if you wanted to stay with them for the time being while they ironed out all the details and see what could be done for a more permanent residence but accepted his offer with a shy and grateful smile.

Then was the matter of actually carrying it out.

The two wanted to settle you in a room of your own but your ears flattened against your head in distress at the suggestion so they quickly dropped that idea.

Aizawa ran a hand tiredly through his hair, unsure of how to resolve this when you clearly were in danger but didn't want to be left alone. The less people that knew of your whereabouts the better and even though he knew Yaoyorozu would probably do a good job looking after you, you clung to Ojiro's side like glue.

You seemed the most comfortable with him and he figured they could use that for now.

Needless to say, Ojiro was surprised when Aizawa suggested he take care of you until the man could figure out a way to accommodate you without you having an anxiety attack but he readily agreed with a slight blush on his face.

He just wanted you to be safe and happy and he was stunned that his sensei trusted him enough to be responsible for you.

Aizawa promptly handed him a small first-aid kit to take care of the blood smeared on your forehead after ensuring that it wasn't anything serious. It was just a slight nick, shallow enough not to need any stitches since it would heal relatively quickly. He told him to clean it before it got infected and his student nodded seriously.

"You can count on me, Aizawa-sensei!!" Ojiro said, bowing respectfully to thank him for all he had done before leaving.

With Ojiro guiding the way, the two of you snuck through the back door and up into his room for you to get settled in. The other students in his class were bustling around the common floor, moving all their things into their respective rooms, hoping to get it done before dark.

It was loud and chaotic, or maybe that was just your sensitive ears picking up on it more. Curiosity peaked, you peeked around the corner after you ensured you were out of their sight, gaze falling on the activity going on below from the second floor.

Ojiro softly pointed each one of them out, telling you their names as they talked over each other.

"I can't believe we get to live together!!" Ashido exclaimed happily, doing a little dance in front of Hagakure and Uraraka. "This is so exciting!!"

"I can't believe my parents agreed to it!!" The invisible girl commented, undoubtedly puffing out her cheeks.

The red-haired and yellow-haired boys who were wrestling in the corner paused for a second to join in on the girls' conversation.

"Did you have a hard time convincing them?" Kirishima asked, only to be smacked upside the head by Kaminari. "Ow, what the heck man?!"

"Why are you asking such a dumb question?" The electric boy retorted, kicking up his feet and smirking. "She could've always just snuck out of the house if they said no. You know, invisibility quirk and all."

He leaped up with a yelp as something shocked him from behind, whirling around to glare at Jirou, who was twirling her earphone jack around a finger nonchalantly.

She sighed, retracting the other one from where she had send an electric pulse through him. "What an idiot."

Kaminari gripped his hair, nearly tearing it out in frustration. "That's what I'm saying!!"

Sero, who was passing by with a box full of his things, stopped and raised an eyebrow. "You know she's talking about you, right?"

"That's not true!!" Kaminari shouted incredulously.

"It's true." Jirou retorted flatly.

The others in the vicinity burst into laughter and you couldn't help but giggle a bit along with them, muffling the sound behind your hand in fear that they would catch you spying on them.

Ojiro's tail twined around your waist gently, steering you towards the elevators. "C'mon, this way."

That contraption alone was the most nerve-wracking thing you've experienced so far. Luckily, the ride wasn't long but that was the only upside. Your tail swished nervously behind you and you didn't relax until the door to his room on the third floor softly clicked closed behind you.

Ojiro breathed a sigh of relief, glancing up at you. You had made it without being spotted by anyone. Thankfully.

He didn't have many things, so moving in wasn't a problem for him and it didn't take too long. He was one of the first ones to finish, along with Shoji, and helped Sato unpack his things until his friend noticed he needed some more ingredients for the cake he wanted to make later on.

The plastic bag crinkled as he took out the snacks he had found while he was getting Sato more flour and sugar. Your nose twitched cutely and he had to refrain from poking your cheek, lest he scare you off.

Your tail was less frazzled now and he took it as a sign that you were getting accustomed to your surroundings.

His eyes softened as you took in his room, pawing at the neat collection of books on his desk before your attention flitted up to the high shelving above your head.

This time, Ojiro couldn't contain his fond smile as he reached over you to grab what you were longingly looking at.

Your eyes went wide as his chest pressed against your back, he easily reached it since he was taller than you. A small giraffe plushie landed in your hands not long after.

He tilted his head, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "Cute, right?"

His little sister, Holly, gave it to him as a going-away present when he moved into the dorms. He missed her so much already but the presence of this little stuffed giraffe soothed his heart.

You held it so gently, as if you were scared you would destroy it.

"Yeah..." You trailed off quietly and he beamed.

It was his first time hearing your voice so unrestrained and free from the fear that gripped you earlier but nothing could have prepared him for how pure and precious it was. He ruffled your hair gently, being mindful of your fluffy ears and looking out for any signs you were uncomfortable with the affectionate gesture.

But his heart skipped a beat when you closed your eyes at his touch, clearly enjoying it and even going so far as to butt your head against his hand in a silent plea for more pets.

You flushed when he chuckled, obliging you for a minute longer until you were like putty in his hands.

The both of you jumped when a loud crash came from downstairs, accompanied by a flurry of enraged shouting and colorful insults even through the many floors. Ojiro casted a worried glance at you but all his concern melted away when a little giggle left your lips.

Relieved that you didn't seem to be too shaken by the noise, he offered the snacks he bought earlier, taking the package and ripping it open for you when you fumbled with it.

Thanking him quietly, you nibbled on the food gratefully. The flavors exploded in your mouth and you positively beamed, radiating the same pure energy you emitted earlier when you had spoken to him.

Ojiro maneuvered around you, finding what he was looking for pretty quickly.

You looked up curiously when he came back, shifting your weight on your knees, unsure of why he was holding a water bottle in your field of vision.

"I need to treat your cut, is that okay?" He asked, unscrewing the cap and pouring a little bit on the cloth he got from the first-aid kit. He didn't want to startle you, so he narrated what he was doing.

You nodded, setting down your half-eaten cookie carefully and brushed back your tangled hair as much as you could so that it wasn't in the way.

Your breath caught in your throat when he moved closer to you. He angled your chin up, gazing into your eyes as he wiped the blood away first to assess the damage done.

"It's going to sting a little bit." He murmured, preparing the antibiotic.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you gripped onto the lapels of his blazer, practically ripping it as your claws came out when he dabbed the cut. You whimpered in pain, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes at how much it hurt.

Ojiro faltered, your whimper sending a spike straight through his heart and he hastened, not wanting you to be in pain any longer. But he was thorough, well aware that if he didn't do a good job now, there was a chance you would have to endure it again. As soon as he disinfected it, he applied a couple butterfly closures to aid the healing process.

It wasn't bleeding anymore and he sighed in relief.

You panted heavily when he was finally done. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you blinked through your blurry vision, frantically scanning the room as his warmth suddenly disappeared.

"Y/N-chan?"

The voice was close by but not close enough. Your breathing started to pick up, hands clammy and tail fluffed out. An obvious sign you were stressed.

"Y/N-chan!!"

This time, it was a lot closer and you sank back, relieved beyond belief as the familiar sensation of his tail encircling your waist returned.

You stammered out his name, blindly reaching for him.

"Where did you go?" Your whispered, fingers trembling uncontrollably as he pulled you into his chest.

"Just had to put away the bandages." He reassured you, concerned with how quickly you were to losing it. "Are you okay?"

Your ears flopped back and forth at how vigorously you nodded, as if you needed to convince him like your life depended on it and his mouth twisted into a small frown.

"You don't have to do that." He said, going to pet you once more, smiling in relief as your tail finally stopped lashing behind you.

"... 'm sorry." You mumbled sadly, clutching onto the front of his jacket.

"It's okay." Ojiro replied, stroking your hair to calm you down. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Just how much pain had you endured?

This time when he stood up, you were okay. Somehow comforted that he wasn't going to go anywhere anytime soon, you polished off your snack as he got something else from the closet.

"Here."

You perked up at the sight of the blue hoodie in his outstretched hand.

Ojiro laughed at your expression of awe as you accepted it and ran your fingers over the material. "You seemed cold so how about you hang onto this for now?"

It was one of his lounging hoodies that he didn't wear too often but it was rather warm and would hopefully stop you from shivering. That tattered dress you were wearing looked like it was about to go any second. He didn't want to know how weak your immune system was to be freezing cold in the middle of August.

You beamed happily, bowing repeatedly. "Thank you, Ojiro-san!!"

It had gotten stuck over your head when you tried to pull it down though and with a muffled squeak that gained his attention, he tugged down the hem, smiling when your ears and flushed face popped through.

Just when I thought she couldn't get any cuter... He thought to himself as you began to run around the room, climbing on anything and everything once he told you that he didn't mind.

His clothes swallowed your smaller frame and he found it incredibly endearing with the way you would flap your arms around, claiming you had sweater paws. It fell just above your knees, keeping it modest.

He steered you away from the balcony for now, wanting you to stay where he could keep an eye on you.

After a few more hours of you getting adjusted, you had tuckered yourself out and curled up into a ball on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Ojiro frowned once he noticed you taking a nap on the hard surface, abandoning his studying at his desk to take you in his arms and placing you in his bed.

You stirred, heavy eyelids struggling to open as you croaked out, "W-What? Ojiro-san, what's going on??"

"You can't sleep on the floor, Y/N-chan." He chided lightly. "It's not good for your back."

Sleepy haze diminishing, you bolted upright, nearly smacking him in the face when you realized where he had put you.

"I can't sleep in your bed!!" You burst out incredulously.

Ojiro hushed you, worriedly glancing at the door as if his friends would come barging in without any warning but luckily they didn't. He didn't put it past them but this was one time where he didn't want them to do that.

He tried to ease you back down but you wouldn't obey.

"Don't worry, the sheets are new." He reassured.

His eyebrow furrowed when you shook your head violently from side to side, wondering what you were so worked up about. You tried to climb out and he let you but didn't let you go too far.

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly, the possibility that he had offended you coming to light. "I didn't mean to—"

"I'm not allowed to!!" You suddenly blurted out.

He did a double take and you looked over his shoulder, your eyes darting everywhere else besides him.

Crouching down to your level, he soothed you gently. "Hey, it's okay. What do you mean you're not allowed to?"

You absentmindedly picked at the wound closures on your forehead, swallowing thickly when he took your hand in his to prevent you from messing with the bandages.

"Y/N-chan?" He prompted.

Your mutter was so quiet he had to strain himself to hear you right and when he did, he asked you to repeat it because by All Might was his blood boiling if he heard you correctly.

You gulped, intimidated by the brazen anger in his eyes, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.

"They said we're animals and called us dirty. We're not supposed to sleep where humans do." With each word, you got quieter until his face was right in front of yours. "They were right... weren't they?"

Squeaking as you got engulfed in a hug, you tensed up and he broke it, apologizing profusely.

"I'm sorry, I just," He ran a hand through his hair, conflicted. "They couldn't be more wrong."

He didn't touch you but he didn't need to for you to feel his warm presence extending out towards you and covering you in the most love you've experienced since your parents left.

"You might have an animal quirk but you're human just like the rest of us and don't deserve to be treated any less than that by anyone." He emphasized, then pounded a fist to his chest. "From now on, I'll look out for you and show you what it's like to be treated like an equal, as a friend, if you'll let me."

Ojiro held out his hand. "Deal?"

You sniffled, unbelievably moved by his kindness after only knowing you for less than a day. "Deal."

You sealed it with a handshake and he gestured to the rumpled bed behind him.

Waving his hand grandly, he proclaimed, "Your napping space awaits."

He internally winced at how corny that sounded but hearing your laughter ring in the air more than made up for it. As he helped you settle beneath the covers, he reassured you constantly but patiently that you really were allowed to sleep in a bed and no, you weren't bothering him or being a burden.

After that, you couldn't fall asleep right away and he really didn't want to study anymore so the two of you talked.

He told you about his family, how he got into UA, stuttering nervously a couple of times only to shoot you a grateful smile when you didn't judge or make fun of him. He told you about his little sister, a cute, precious little girl who was growing up faster than he liked to admit. Retelling and entertaining you with stories of his classmates and their adventures, his tail flicked up excitedly when you started to chime in with experiences of your own.

Things you could remember from your past. Foods you liked, hobbies you had, friends you liked to play with, and he listened attentively through it all. When you started to drift off, you sleepily mumbled offhandedly how you liked it when he patted your head or rubbed your ears.

And you especially liked it when he would hug you with his tail.

Ojiro just smiled softly, tucking the blanket around you before brushing the hair away from your face. You looked so peaceful. He got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, jaw dropping in surprise when his gaze landed on the bag discarded on the floor. He had completely forgotten about that.

Shaking your shoulder to rouse you from your tranquil state, he whispered apologies when you finally opened your eyes.

"I'm so sorry I woke you up but I have to go to Sato-kun's room really quick to give him the flour and sugar I bought earlier, okay?" He rushed out, tripping over his words to get it out faster so that you could go back to sleep.

"Can't I go with you?" You mumbled, still half asleep.

Ojiro shook his head, remembering what Aizawa said about exposure. Sure, he trusted his classmates but there was a big difference between what he wanted and what was logical. Your chances were better off with the less that people knew you of your whereabouts so he refused, even though it nearly broke his heart when you trained your wide orbs on him.

Pushing out your bottom lip slightly, tears collected at the corner of your eyes. "You don't want me there?"

He was quick to kneel down by your side, unable to stop himself from pressing his forehead to your temple in a desperate attempt to make the sadness in your voice fade away.

"No, no, princess, it's not that at all." The pet name slipped out faster than he could stop it but he didn't even stop. "You're safer here for right now. And I'll only be gone for a minute."

He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. "Okay?"

You mustered up a wobbly smile for him. "Okay..."

He wanted to text Sato to come to his room to pick it up so that he wouldn't have to leave you but that would stir up questions, especially since he wouldn't allow his friend inside and that would undoubtedly create a mayhem within his peers at what he was hiding. For aspiring heroes, they were still teenagers after all. And they loved to bug each other like it, too.

Ojiro sighed as he forced himself to detach from you, tucking the blanket securely around you before he stepped quietly out the door.

For once in his life, he kind of wished he wasn't living with his classmates.

After he left, you tried to quell the anxiety and insecurities. Twisting and turning, your mind raced, spiraling out of control. He didn't abandon you, he was just returning something to his friend. He would be back soon. He promised you.

But as the minutes ticked by, it felt like hours and you couldn't wait any longer. Throwing off the covers, your legs shook as you stepped towards the door. However, you froze in place and your ears twitched, picking up the sounds faster than the average human which normally would've given you an advantage but you couldn't move in time.

The door flew open with a bang, slamming into the wall and making you jump nearly five feet into the air. On the other side stood the girl with pink hair and skin that you had seen earlier, along with the electric boy and a few others you didn't recognize.

You shrunk back as the group exploded into chaos, directing questions towards you faster than you could process or fend off on your own. Your panic rose as they flooded in, clutching your hands tightly to your chest at the overwhelming amount of people in the cramped space.

Then, your eyes widened as someone shouted frantically for them to move, shouldering his way through until he came to you. You willed your feet to move but they wouldn't obey no matter how hard you tried, your body still frozen in fear. It didn't matter though because he reached you within seconds.

"Guys, seriously, back off!!" Ojiro shouted above the clamor, his tail pulling you close and tucked you under his arm. "You're scaring her!!"

At the strain in his usually light tone, his friends started to quiet down one by one and he turned his full attention on you.

"You okay?" He murmured, cradling your jaw and inspecting your face for any hint that you might've been hurt.

You didn't say anything, just threw your arms around him and brushed your nose against the crook of his neck, scenting him. His warm scent eased you and brought you back down bit by bit until your feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Even though he had no clue what you were doing, it was making the tension wound in your body disappear fast so he didn't have any issues with it. But his breath hitched as a soft rumble emitted from the back of your throat in contentment, squeezing you once before letting you go. He didn't detach his tail from you though, using it as a wall to keep his overeager friends from coming too close.

Ojiro let you do what you needed in that moment and in the minutes that followed, his friends began peppering you with questions. He let you keep your face nuzzled into his chest as you shyly answered them but he answered for you whenever you hesitated so that you wouldn't be put in an uncomfortable position of refusing them.

He had already seen what you were like when something that was normal for them went against what was ingrained into you and his arms curled around you tighter in an effort to protect you.

You were thankful for him taking most of the pressure off of you, timidly straying from his side when he encouraged you to talk to the girls a little bit more. You warmed up to them much faster than the rest, your eyes brightening up excitedly when they told you there was a girl among their friend group who had a frog quirk.

He sighed as Yaoyorozu and Ashido led you away from the boys with the rest of the girls in tow to go to a space where the environment would be better for you. Feeling bad that the secret had gotten out already, he winced as he thought of the penalty he would face once he told Aizawa.

Kaminari smirked, leaning against the doorframe after you exited. "Man, where have you been hiding her?"

Ojiro shot him a look that told him to keep quiet, not in the mood for playing around. "That's not funny."

"C'mon man, we're just teasing." Kirishima added on, not picking up on the tense energy of the room. "You could've at least told us you had a girlfriend, she's really cute."

"If not a little shy." Sero grinned, elbowing him in the ribs teasingly. "Don't worry, it's not like we're going to steal her away or anything."

"You should not have a girl in your room, Ojiro!!" Iida declared, chopping his hands in the air to emphasize his point despite the inconsiderate snickering occurring on the other side of the room by the three of them. "It is not appropriate!!"

Shoji, Sato and Koda all elected to remain silent, studying their friend's shadowed expression as their other classmates relentlessly teased him.

Forehead creasing in annoyance at the continuous jabs, Ojiro blurted out, "Guys, stop!! It's not something to joke about!!"

He sank to the floor, head in his hands and for the first time since they burst in, the guys finally took notice of the way his shoulders shook and how anxiety seemed to roll off of him in waves.

"She's in real danger." Ojiro told them quietly. "There are bad people looking for her so you guys can't talk about her, alright?"

"Please." He begged, not caring how desperate he sounded.

All he wanted was for you to be safe. All he wanted was for you to live the life you had been robbed of without having to look over your shoulder to see if someone was following you or not.

Shoji uncrossed his duplicate arms, stance broadening. "We won't."

"Yeah," Kirishima inserted, rubbing the back of his neck, ashamed of his behavior earlier. "Sorry man, had no idea."

Scattered apologies followed his and reluctantly, Ojiro raised his head, mouth set in a determined line. He didn't answer too many questions about your situation, wanting to keep as much of it as he could private until he knew how you felt about telling them and stood up. Now that damage control had been dealt with, all that was left was to tell Aizawa.

Piece of cake.

Back with the girls, you were dragged back to the elevators to get to the girls' side. Since Jirou's was the closest, you guys went there. Your expression filled with awe at the many instruments that hung on the walls, wanting to touch them but you didn't want to get in trouble so you kept your hands stiffly by your sides.

Ashido enthusiastically led you to the plushiest spot on the floor and for a second, you were reminded of the little stuffed giraffe Ojiro let you play with when he caught you looking at it. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you jumped when the girls squealed.

"Who are you thinking about?" Ashido pried, eyes glimmering with mischief. "It's Ojiro-kun, isn't it?!"

Your mouth opened and closed, unable to form a response to that. You covered your ears when she shrieked excitedly, taking your silence as your answer and dancing around the room.

"Mina-chan, calm down, you're a little too loud." Yaoyorozu told her gently before reaching over to pat your shoulder. "Where did you come from?"

Mouth parting in shock at how blatant she was being, you twiddled with the strings of Ojiro's hoodie. "Um, well, they told me that my breed is mixed so I don't sell as well as a purebred but I'm fast and—"

"Oh goodness no!!" Ashido interrupted, eyes widened in horror and if you looked around you would've seen all the other girls wearing that exact same expression. "That's not what she meant!!"

Tilting your head to the side clueless, you frowned. "It's not?"

"No!!" Yaoyorozu exclaimed, horrified by what you had to have been through to respond like that on instinct. "I meant how did you get in the dormitory, in Ojiro-san's room nonetheless!!"

"Ah, well... that, um... I—" You cut off your stammering with a frustrated sigh. "I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you."

"That's okay." Uraraka reassured you easily.

Her energy reminded you of Ojiro.

"Is it true that you're in danger?" Jirou spoke up for the first time since the gang of girls invaded her room.

Your jaw dropped in shock but your expression cleared when she waved her earjacks around pointedly. That must've been how she could hear and judging by the timing of her question, you concluded that Ojiro must have been the one talking about your circumstances. And since you didn't feel like he would knowingly put you into danger, you told them what you told him.

Their expressions crumbled before you, losing all semblance of their happy-go-lucky personalities as disbelief took over.

Yaoyorozu's eyes filled with tears. "You had to endure all of that alone?"

"That's horrible!!" Ashido cried out.

"I'm so sorry!!" Uraraka and Hagakure shouted simultaneously.

"I can't imagine what that must've been like." Jirou said, her eyes sad. "You're here now though, so Aizawa-sensei must've given you permission."

You nodded, knees tucked under you as you gripped the hem of the blue sweatshirt. "Yes, but it was only supposed to be a temporary solution and no one else was supposed to find out."

Hesitating, you gulped. "If... If this gets out, I—"

"Don't worry, Y/N-chan!!" Ashido exclaimed, shooting to her feet and pumping her fist in the air. "We'll definitely protect you."

Jirou nodded, fueled by her friend. "Yeah!!"

"You can count on us!!" Hagakure jumped up beside her.

"They won't be able to touch you anymore now that you've got us!!" Yaoyorozu declared determinedly.

"Let's go!!" Uraraka cheered. "Plus Ultra!!"

You burst into sobs at their overwhelming support despite only having just met them and the girls crowded around you in the best group hug you've ever received.

After that emotional roller coaster, they were going to bring you back to Ojiro's room since that's where you wanted to stay for the night but they heard your stomach growling and collectively decided to feed you with whatever they could find in the kitchen.

Yaoyorozu was pretty sure there was some leftover pizza that the guys had bought earlier that day.

Your protests fell on deaf ears as Ashido and Uraraka dragged you all the way there, Jirou trailing behind as Yaoyorozu and Hagakure ran ahead.

"You don't want your own room?" Jirou questioned when they finally released you.

You shook your head. "I... I don't really like being alone and Ojiro-san is my first friend I've had in a long time, so I... I trust him."

She nodded understandingly. "I get it."

"That is soooo cute!!" Hagakure swooned, balancing several boxes of various packaged Japanese snacks in her arms.

You blushed beet red, flushing further when the girls cooed at how cute you were. Pulling the collar of the hoodie up to hide your smile, you pleaded for them to stop embarrassing you. Tea kettle whistling on the stove as Yaoyorozu prepared some jasmine tea, Uraraka brought out the pizza box she had just found from the industrial-sized fridge, handing it to you after heating it up.

"Isn't this someone's food?" You questioned, not touching it. You didn't want to eat it if it belonged to someone.

Jirou pushed it towards you encouragingly with her earphone jack, smirking. "Trust me, Kaminari won't miss it."

You decided to take her word for it.

You had barely finished half a slice when the front door opened and the chilly night air blew inside. Turning around, you hopped off of the stool you were perched on and ran to Ojiro, who had an extremely exhausted Aizawa in tow.

Ojiro caught you easily, wrapping his tail around you out of instinct. It was getting to be a habit by now.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he checked you over.

You giggled, prying his hands away from their dutiful inspection. "I'm okay."

He breathed a sigh of relief but the two of you stiffened when Aizawa cleared his throat from behind him.

"As much as I don't want to interrupt whatever that is," He droned monotonously. "This has gotten a lot more serious."

You shared a worried look with Ojiro and gasped when his tail tightened around your waist ever so slightly.

"You can't stay here." Aizawa told you, fixating his eyes on the students who moved to object, more flooding in as their sensei's voice carried clearly. "You need to come with me, I'll find you a place to stay for the night."

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

[duskholland]

As You Are | Mob!Tom Holland

summary ↠ who could’ve known showing up to work late one night would put you in touch with a mysterious stranger, capable of turning your life upside down? 

word count ↠ 6.8k

warnings ↠ mature themes, drinking, cursing, gambling + mentions of violence 

a/n ↠ I don’t know how this ended up being so long honestly. I had a blast writing it and I really hope that people read it lol. anyway! this is part of my mob!Tom series -- a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. you don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense. 

mob!Tom masterlist | general masterlist

You’re late. Fuck, you’re running so late.

Your tight, shiny stilettos rub the corners of your toes uncomfortably as you hurry off the bus, ignoring the stares of the passengers. You push your handbag further up your arm and start to run precariously down the cobbled London streets, your heart pounding harshly in your chest. As you pass the entrances to some of the most exclusive clubs in Soho, you find yourself blending into the crowd. All around you are London’s elite, dressed in expensive coats, rich cologne, and enough glinting diamonds to burn your eyes, and they don’t spare you a second look as you reach the end of the street, taking your tall heels and short skirt as standard.

Relief replaces your anxiety as you pull off at the corner and slip around the back of the largest club of them all: The Lotus Club. You whip out your ID and flash it at the looming security guard on the door, and a moment later you’re in.

Immediately you’re met with backstage: an eclectic mix of cheap hairspray, curling irons, and half-naked girls. You move past a group of feathered dancers and find your locker quickly, ditching your bag and clocking in as you curse yourself for falling asleep earlier in the night. You’ve been working here for three years and you never used to be late, but these days, it’s as if you’ve been pushing it closer and closer to the wire each time you stumble in for your shift.

“You’re late,” comes a loud, stern voice. You freeze, your fingers half-way through pulling off the lid of a deep velvety red lipstick, and you glance at the mirror on your locker door to see your boss standing behind you, arms crossed. Loretta’s a ripped, forty-year-old woman with so many tattoos you think she must be immune to pain. Her eyes are stormy and grey as you hesitantly turn to face her, wincing a smile. “I’ve checked the data for the last month. You’ve been late 12 times, Y/N.” Her face pulls into a disappointed frown. “I’ve always liked you and you’ve never let me down before, but I need staff that I can rely on.”

Instantly you feel cold dread pool in your stomach. “Loretta, look, I’m really sorry, but it’s been a hectic month. I- I’ll try harder, okay? I’m sorry.” And you don’t want to grovel, but this job is all you have. Waiting the tables in this exclusive Soho Club is the only way you can afford to keep your flat, and without that, you have nothing. “Please don’t fire me.”

She holds your gaze for a long, hard minute. Your body feels tight with angst, your fingers shaking around the lipstick. “I’ll give you one more chance,” she says finally. “You’ll need to wait the private booths tonight, though.” When you open your mouth to complain, she laughs lowly. “Oi, none of that. I know you hate it, but if you’re late in, you don’t get a say in where I assign you. Got it?”

With a bite of your lower lip, you nod your head dejectedly. “Alright. Thanks Loretta. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not.” And then she turns and walks away, no doubt on her way to harass some of the other workers, and you turn around to finish your makeup.

The Lotus Club is a boujee blend of bar, nightclub and casino, equipped with a whole secluded wing through the back for private dances. Like the rest of the street, it attracts the highest of the high - rich, snobby businesspeople and socialites who enjoy getting off by flaunting their power and riches. You’re yet to meet anyone who isn’t a complete and utter snob.

The private booths perfectly encapsulate the worst parts of the club: they’re secluded and shady, which means they’re a hub for illegal and underhand exchanges, and they cost a leg and a half to rent out. If you think the customers you’d find in the main foyer of the club were spoilt, the inhabitants in the booths can only be described as the richest assholes London can muster. 

You stare at yourself in your locker’s mirror, red lips sagging into an irritated pout. Your frown remains as you fluff up your hair for a final time and shut your locker abruptly. Your black skirt clings to your legs as you walk out into the front of house, the air clearing the moment you’re in the public sphere of the club.

It’s a very exclusive and elitist place, and the decor of the club indicates that exactly: large, glistening chandeliers dangle in every room, a rich red carpet curves across the halls, and there’s the controlled sound of restrained music drifting through large speakers. Each section of the club has a different vibe to it, and as you walk through the casino and into the section with the private booths, the tone shifts. The booths themselves are tucked behind a large curtain, and as you walk through, the lights grow dimmer and the sweet, husky scent of marijuana fills the air.

You find the supervising manager first - a small, unassuming man called Rob. He discreetly points at a circular table in the corner of the section. “That table over there,” he says. You squint your eyes and stare, making out the outline of a few young men. Curiosity replaces your irritation as you realise they look about as old as you. “You take them, yeah?”

You give him a nod. “Who are they?”

Rob shrugs. “No idea. Think it’s their first time.” He raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Make a good impression.”

You roll your eyes as you move away from him, flexing out your fingers as you walk towards the table. This is the VIP section, which means each booth gets a dedicated waitress - aka, you. You just hope the guys you’ll be serving are decent, because if they aren’t, it’ll be a long, long night.

You draw their attention easily, one of the side effects of being one of the few women in the room. Their gazes fall on you before you’re even at the table, and you suck in a quick, steadying breath as you manage a smile. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Y/N and I’ll be your server tonight. You ever been here before?”

Your eyes drift around the circular table as you wait on a response, taking in the men now you’re near enough to make them out. There are four of them: all looking young, but the number of tailored suits and watches attached to them screams wealth in a way you can’t ignore. To the left, two guys, both brunette and very similar - twins? To the right, a blond with dizzying blue eyes. And in the centre, a man, clearly the leader, with his arms thrown over the back of the booth. He’s in a crisp white shirt, a suit jacket lying crumpled on the seat beside him, and his golden brown eyes seem to linger on you for a moment too long as you wait on a response. The way he looks at you brings a warmth to your cheeks, the smile fixed on your face threatening to falter as you decide that he’s utterly delicious.

“Never been before, love.” Finally someone speaks, and it’s the blond. His lips twist into a slow smile. “Nice place you’ve got.”

You hum, returning his stare confidently. “It’s nice back here,” you agree. Then you reach down and pull a small, flat device from your pocket. You lean down and slide it into the centre of the table, making brief eye contact with the man in the centre as you pull yourself back up, a thrill of excitement cracking down your spine as you catch him staring at you. “That’s my pager. If you need me, just press the button and I’ll be here. Can I get you any drinks?”

They rattle off a list of drinks and you nod along, quickly memorising the drinks and faces, matching them with personalities. The guy in the centre goes for a Corona, speaking in a voice that’s just a little too perfect, and as you walk away towards the bar, you find yourself wondering why they’re all here. The private booths are the ideal location for illegal activities to occur, yet you couldn’t see any drugs on them, and none of them seem to have turned up with any documents or briefcases. They aren’t the usual age, either, and they all seem far too friendly to fit the normal typecast of the customers you’d find in the club. They’d smiled at you as you’d taken their orders, none of them looking at you through heady, lusting eyes - not even the man in the centre with the firm, brown gaze had let his stare slip away from your face. They feel like a breath of fresh air hidden away in an extremely stuffy room, and you can’t help but regard them fondly.

When you return to the table with a tray laden with drinks, you’re quick to distribute the bottles and glasses. The men are having a very loud and animated conversation, apparently at the expense of one of the twins, whose freckly face is burning a deep, embarrassed red. You’re in and out in a second, but in the moment you’re leaning across the table to put down a glass, the brunette in the centre meets your gaze again, his thin lips pulling up into a semblance of a smirk. “Thanks, love,” he whispers, tilting the glass towards you as you tuck the tray beneath your arm and step back.

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else,” you say, nodding at the pager on the table. He glances to the device quickly, before looking back at you, eyes lingering on the curve of your painted lower lip.

“Will do.”

You breeze away from them, your heart rattling against your ribcage as you walk to the back corner and slip into easy conversation with some of the other girls.

Your table get a few more rounds of drinks over the course of the night. Each time you’re there within seconds of the buzzer going off, always with an eager smile on your face. One bonus to the private booths is that the people who rent them out tend to have such a surplus of wealth that the tips are huge, and you’d really like to have the extra cash. So maybe you smile a little wider than usual, and do your best to crack jokes and play along as you talk with the group, but it’s all part of the job, and all part of what’s expected from you. You’re sure the fact that the man in the centre gets your heart racing a little faster than normal has nothing to do with it.

It’s a little after 1am when you’re paged back to the circular table in the corner, the buzzing in your pocket causing you to stifle a yawn. With a start, you walk back to them, your tired feet clacking across the smooth marbled floor. As you draw closer, you realise that there’s only one man there, and with a start, you realise it’s the leader.

“Hi,” you say, smiling nervously. “Friends abandoned you?”

The man shakes his head, the tips of his wavy brown hair shifting delicately. “Gone to the casino,” he explains. He pats the open booth beside him questioningly. “Do you want to sit?” You ponder it for half a second. His voice is open and warm, and it lacks the air of expectation that you’d usually find when patrons ask you a similar question. With a small smile on your face, you sit down beside him. “It’s Y/N, yeah?”

You nod slowly, your bare legs feeling warm against the leather booth. The man is still settled in the centre of the semi-circle, but he slides a little closer to you as you begin to talk, one of his arms hanging over the side of the booth, inviting you closer.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you reply softly. “Are you going to tell me your name, or is that a mystery too?”

The man quirks an eyebrow, and for the first time you notice how endearing his face is. It’s hard, with deep lines crossing his forehead and his cheeks, but when he smiles, the angst fades away, leaving him with a gentle softness about him. His nose is slightly crooked and his lips are thin and lopsided, but he’s undeniably handsome.

“I’m a mystery?” He asks, amused.

“No one’s seen any of you around before,” you say, picking your words carefully. “Normally we get regulars in the VIP section.” You shrug lightly. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, it’s our first time coming here,” he tells you. Then he picks up his hand and offers it to you. “I’m Tom, darling.”

You take his outstretched hand and your smile widens as he takes your fingers into a strong grip. “Nice to meet you, Tom.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

[-----]

You talk with Tom easily, gradually unearthing a few details about the man. He doesn’t give much away, but you gather that he and his brothers own a few businesses around London and they’d come to your club tonight to scout out the competition. 

“Can I get you a drink, love?” He asks, about ten minutes into conversation. 

You’ve got a relaxed smile on your face as you nod in agreement.  “That would be nice,” you tell him. “I can go and get it, though.” You begin to stand, only to feel him reach out and take your hand, his digits loosely brushing up against yours as you meet his sparkly golden eyes.

“No, stay here,” he says, his voice soft. His eyes shift towards the bar and you watch as he catches the gaze of one of the other servers. She walks over to you and takes your order with a jealous grimace on her face, and you find yourself shifting a little closer to Tom as you sit back down.

“So...” You let your lips quirk into a coy smile. “What kinds of things does a man like you enjoy doing?”

Tom hums softly, his hand going to rest on your knee. The tips of his calloused fingertips draw small shapes and circles over your skin, his touch setting off warm fireworks. “I like golf,” he says, laughing quietly as you grimace. “It’s more interesting to play than it is to watch.”

“I’d sure hope so,” you joke. “I don’t think it’s really my thing.”

“Well, what is your thing?” You watch intently as Tom flicks his pink tongue out across his lower lip. Your breath hitches as you realise he’s flirting with you, and you’ve overcome with a strong urge to reciprocate.

“I like painting,” you admit. “Someday I’m going to quit my job here and open up an art gallery.” You reach up slowly, resting the flat hand on his shoulder as the tips of your fingers play around with his soft hair. “Would you be my model, one day?”

Tom brings his other hand to your waist, testing the waters. When you only drift closer to him, he holds your side more firmly, his long, nimble fingers slowly wrapping around you. His touch is intoxicating. 

“I’d be flattered to be your model, darling,” he tells you, eyes sparkling with something between lust and admiration.

As the night draws on, you find yourself inching closer and closer to him, his body heat attracting you like a moth to a flame. His eyes sparkle brightly, shades of golden browns appealing to you easily, and you can’t stop yourself from shamelessly flirting with him, your heart pounding each time he returns it just as thickly.

But you’re not completely blinded by lust. Over the course of your conversation, you pick up on a few unsaid details. First and foremost: Tom has a holster strapped to his belt, and whilst it’s empty, its presence is enough to have your guard up. You know there’s probably a hundred armed men out in the casino, but the sight of it makes you uneasy. Tom’s nice, and maybe a part of you had considered clocking out and leaving with him, but that - and the fact that you can see a pair of brass knuckledusters hanging out of his suit pocket - is enough to sour that idea.

It really is a shame. He’s nothing but charming, in a very sweet, romantic way, and if the circumstances were different, you’d want him in a heartbeat.

By the time Tom’s friends return from the Casino, stacks of cash in hand, you’re practically on top of him. Somewhere between the second and the third beer, he’d pulled you nearer, and now you have your head pressed against his outstretched arm as you sit lazily in his lap, your voice dying halfway through your anecdote as the presence of Tom’s associates disturb your conversation.

“How much?” Tom calls out, his eyes moving away from your face for the first time in an hour. You watch as his pupils dilate, swallowing the golden flecks of his irises as he stares at the rolls of cash greedily.

“50k.” The blond...Harrison, you think, says. “We should come back more often.” His blue eyes twinkle knowingly as he takes in the way you’re spread over Tom. “You ready to go, mate?”

You feel Tom shift beneath you, a hand going to sit on your waist as he hums. “Go settle the tab, yeah? I’ll be over in a minute.”

Harrison nods, and you watch as the group approach the bar and begin to sift through the rolls of cash. Clearing your throat, you stretch out your arm and move out of Tom’s lap, distancing yourself from him as you give him a coy smile.

“Well… I guess it’s goodnight, Tom,” you say, watching him carefully. His eyebrows furrow together slightly as an expression of intrigue passes over his face.

“Don’t suppose you’d want to come home with me, love?” He asks, voice honest and open. He reaches down and takes one of your hands in his, his calloused thumb passing over the back of your knuckles. The touch makes you bite your lower lip, and for a brief moment, you find yourself wishing you could.

“Sorry,” you say instead, ignoring the way a part of you wants to explore the man further. You’ve seen the holster and the knuckledusters. “I don’t know you.”

Surprise replaces his intrigue, but Tom remains looking at you fondly. He nods his head, holding your gaze as he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his intoxicating lips to the back of your hand and kissing your skin softly. “I’ll see you around then, darling,” he mumbles, finally releasing your hand as he presses it back to your lap. He stands up and shimmies out of the booth, tossing his suit jacket over his shoulder as he goes. “It was lovely spending the evening with you, Y/N.”

Your smile is soft, genuine. “You too, Tom. Have a nice night.”

He raises his hand in a brief wave, and then turns, meeting with his friends by the door. They leave together, and you take a moment to sit against the back of the booth, breathing heavily through your mouth as your thoughts run rampant through your mind.

Everything about Tom feels to be a juxtaposition. His suit was expensive and he left the casino £50,000 richer, yet his shoes were scruffy and his watch looked old and worn. He’s clearly used to control, but he was perfectly content with you setting the lines and the limits. He has an obvious affinity for the darker arts, but his touch was always kind and gentle. Tom is a perfect paradox, and you can’t help but keep him in your thoughts as you begin to clear away the dirty glasses, your smile remaining on your lips for the rest of the night.

[-----]

When you come in for your shift a few days later, you’re called into Loretta’s office immediately. Dread and anticipation hang heavy in your stomach as you nervously push open her door, hoping with every part of you that she hasn’t called you in to fire you. You’re left utterly perplexed as the tall woman greets you with a long, tight hug.

“Y/N, my darling!” She exclaims, releasing you and gesturing down at a chair. You slip into it apprehensively as she walks around to sit behind her desk, her eyes bright and excited. “You’ve got a tip.”

Your eyes widen. “A tip?” You echo, voice uncertain. Normally the tips would be added to your pay-check at the end of the month, no further comment needed. The way she’s staring at you like you’re a celebrity makes you nervous.

“Someone left an anonymous tip for you,” she says, voice high. “I’ve already deducted the club’s percentage.” Loretta passes you a bulging envelope. “It leaves you with just under £5,000.”

Your jaw drops.

“What… The fuck,” you manage, eyes bulging as you tear open the envelope and run your thumb through the thick stack of cash. “Who?”

Your boss shrugs. “Anonymous,” she repeats. “Just thought you’d appreciate the heads up. I’ll keep it out of the books, as long as you don’t mention this to anyone.” Her voice is low, and you nod quickly, knowing that she’s doing you both a favour: the club takes a cut of all tips received, and you know that you’ll both come out better if the tax office doesn’t learn of your bonus.

“Thank you,” you say, flabbergasted. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing,” she advises. “Just take it.” As you rise to your feet and slip the envelope into your bag, she adds, “You can go back to serving the bar, as usual. I’ll get Monica to cover the private booths.”

“Thanks,” you say again, your voice soft and shaken. She bids you goodbye as you walk back to the lockers, your eyes wide and your mind scrambled.

You want to assume it’s Tom who’s left the tip. You don’t think you’ve made a big enough impression on anyone else recently to be rewarded this generously. It baffles you, because you hadn’t ever expected this, but then you find yourself warming to the idea. You’d gotten on well with Tom, and maybe a small part of you has been regretting denying him, and this… Well, this act of generosity would suggest that he’s still thinking about you, and that’s a very nice thought.

You begin your shift with a wide smile on your face, knowing your rent is taken care of for the next few months. It puts a lightness in your step, and you find yourself winning over all the patrons you come into contact with, your wallet growing heavier and heavier as the night draws by. A few times, you find yourself gazing around the bar, looking for Tom, expecting to see him, but not feeling surprised when you don’t. He’d told you himself that he was only in the club to scout out a rival business - why would he return after gathering his reconnaissance?

He doesn’t turn up that night. Or the next. Or even the next. You have to wait another week before you see another sign of him, and even then, it’s not actually him.

You’re clearing away a table when you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to see Harrison standing there, a black suit pulled around him so perfectly that he looks like a model and it takes your breath away for a second.

“Y/N?” He asks, voice clear and bright. You give him a nod, your eyebrows pulling up into confusion as he procures a red rose and passes it to you. “I’m Harrison, Tom’s mate. We met the other night.”

You twirl the stem between your fingers, glancing between the delicate petals and Harrison’s watchful face. “Yeah, I remember.”

He nods his head at the rose. “Tom wanted you to have that. He also wanted to know if you’d gotten his gift?”

The thorns on the rose nick your finger and you curse softly, bringing your thumb to your mouth and sucking away the small drop of blood. Harrison watches you intently, his eyes twinkling as he holds back a laugh.

“You mean the tip?” You ask after a moment, pulling your hand away from your face. You cross your arms over your chest as you stare the man down. “You do know that was an obscene amount of money, right?”

Harrison chuckles, running a hand through his blond curls. “I know,” he agrees. “Tom wouldn’t hear anything else. Apparently you made quite the impression.” His eyes sweep across you briefly. “He wanted to know if you’d join him for a date tomorrow night.”

You hum, your eyebrow raising slightly. “And why are you here asking me out, instead of him?” 

Harrison’s eyes widen at your controlled tone, his cheeks tinting with a rosy blush. “He’s busy.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head. “Well, you can tell Tom that I appreciate the gesture, but if he wants to take me on a date, he needs to come down here and ask me himself.” Acting on impulse, you pass Harrison back the rose, your eyes dancing mischievously. 

Harrison looks a little taken aback, but he nods slowly and looks at you with a shade of respect in his gaze. “I will pass on the message.”

“Thanks, Harrison.” You turn back to the table you’re clearing and you watch from the corner of your eye as he turns and walks away, leaving the club with the rose in his hands.

Your heart hammers in your chest, as part of you can’t believe you’ve just turned him down so boldly. But you know it’s for the best, because men like Tom can be dangerous, and if he thinks he can get away with anything, then that’s not the kind of person you want to see. You decide that if he can swallow his pride and show up to see you himself, then you’ll be happy to lean into him, but you won’t fall at his feet just because he’s flashed some cash. If he doesn’t respond to your demands, at least you’ll come out richer for it. But a part of you thinks you’ve got him nailed down, and you have the feeling he thrives on games like these, and so you return to the club the next night expecting to see him, and you’re not surprised when you do.

Tom’s leaning up against the bar, talking with one of the strippers amicably. The feathers coming out of her plumed headband fall onto his forehead as they laugh closely together, and an irrational stab of jealousy twists up through your insides as you watch them. It’s ridiculous, and you quickly swallow it back, but as Tom meets your eyes from across the room, you know he’s seen the envy in your eyes. His thin lips pull into a smirk and he beckons you over, your legs moving of their own accord.

As you get to Tom, he leans down and whispers something in the woman’s ear. You watch as her expression falls, and then she pulls away from Tom to circle the room in search of another visitor. He greets you by opening his arms, and you pause for a moment before sinking into them, his fingers finding your waist as your head goes to the crook of his neck, finding home briefly in his warmth and the rich scent of his powerful cologne. As you pull back, one of his hands goes back to his side, but the other finds your face for a moment, holding you softly as his lips brush over your cheek. You have to bite back a smile as he mumbles a quiet, “Evening, love,” not wanting him to see how utterly giddy it makes you feel to have him so close again.

“Hi, Tom,” you reply, your head clearing up as he finally drops contact with your skin. Your eyes drift over his familiar face, taking in the details of his handsome features. “Looking for a stripper, eh?”

“Not unless she’s called Y/N,” he replies, voice controlled but suggestive. You chuckle quietly, your face heating a little as you grow slightly bashful.

“Smooth,” you comment. “You gonna buy me a drink?”

“Whatever you want,” he promises. His eyes sweep over the room. “You’re not working?”

You shrug as you slip up at the bar, Tom settling on the stool beside you. One of his hands goes to rest on your knee, the contact firm and grounding, and it makes your body fill with a subtle, thrumming heat. “I am, technically,” you say. “But it’s my job to entertain the guests,” you shift your gaze to his suggestively, “and I’d say you’re in need of a little fun.”

“You’re definitely right there, darling.”

You drink a few rounds with Tom, treating yourself to some of the bar’s most expensive wine because he’s already given them his card and you free rein over the drinks menu. Any reluctance you feel to exploit his kindness disappears as you remember how easily he’d left the casino up £50k the other night, and as you slowly grow lighter and your bloodstream more diluted, you find yourself loosening up. Tom does too, and as you talk about any and everything, his hair becomes messier as his cheeks flush. Your knees touch and sometimes your shoulders brush, and it’s like the rest of the world burns away until it’s just you, and him, laughing, talking, feeling, and it’s so natural that you almost forget that you come from two different worlds.

But then Tom shifts on the stool, and your eyes catch his empty holster, and you’re slammed back to earth, your mood shifting. He picks up on it immediately, his eyebrows furrowing as he reaches out and picks up your hand, playing with your fingers softly. “You alright there, love?”

You hum. “What do you want from me, Tom?” You ask after a moment, voice unassuming.

“What do you mean?”

You give him a coy smile. “You know what I mean,” you tease. “Chatting with me, leaving me thousands of pounds, getting your friend to ask me out… Even being here tonight. What do you want?” And your voice is open and honest, and Tom ponders it for a few moments before squeezing your hand.

“You intrigue me, Y/N,” he admits. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night we met… I don’t know why, or what I want from you, but I guess, I’d quite like to know, what do you want from me?”

“Oh, no, you don’t get to turn this on me.”

“Why not? I’m definitely allowed to do that.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re sneaky, Tom,” you mumble. “If I’m being honest, part of me thought you’d show up tonight and expect me to leave with you. Because, y’know, the money.” He opens his mouth to argue, but you raise an eyebrow and he pauses. “I don’t think you’re that kind of guy, though. Are you?”

He shakes his head quickly. “I’m not a dick.”

“Arrogant, sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“A bit egotistical?”

“Well, uh, I guess you could say that.”

“Dominating?”

Tom’s eyes shift a shade darker as he nods. “You like to talk,” he comments, bringing a smile to your face.

“I can leave you to your thoughts, if you’d prefer that,” you tease. He tightens his grip on your hand, and for the first time you look down at his fingers and notice that his knuckles are bruised and bloodied. “Shit, what happened here?” You bring his hands nearer your face, gently grazing your touch over the curves of his cut knuckles. He winces but he lets you inspect the injuries.

“Nothing,” he mutters. When you tighten your gaze, he shrugs haplessly. “Got in a fight. No big deal.”

“Yeah, right.” You rise from the stool, dragging him with you. You’re about to turn and pull him across the room when you hesitate. “Are you packing?” He looks surprised by the question, so you add, “I won’t take you backstage if you’re dangerous.”

“I’ve not got a gun on me,” he says, dodging half the question but it’s good enough for you. You lead him out, through the bar, past the casino, and you pull him through a large door that says Staff Only and take him back to one of the locker rooms. It’s peak time so the room is quiet, and you sit him down on a bench as you grab a clean cloth from beside the sink and run it under some warm water.

“If you don’t take care of your injuries, they’ll scar,” you tell him as you dab at his knuckles. Tom’s gaze burns into your cheek as you wash away the dried blood, exposing the deep colours of fresh bruises just below. You glance up at him, your breath hitching in your throat as you meet his stare, his eyes dancing with a thousand different words. “Who’d look after you if I wasn’t here, huh?” You walk across the room before returning with a cotton pad soaked in disinfectant. “This might hurt,” you warn, but Tom doesn’t even flinch as you drag the pad over his cracked skin. You throw the pad into the bin and then settle in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at him questioningly.

“Come sit,” he says finally, his voice more laboured than before. He spreads his legs a little and pats at his lap, and without hesitation you step forward and straddle him. You have to shift around until you’re comfortable, but you manage to stretch your legs out behind him on the bench and his hands go to anchor your hips in place. Your faces are really close now, and he easily brings a hand up to settle on your cheek, the tips of his fingers resting on your cheekbones. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, love?”

You smile slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just…” He breaks off, sighing comically. “So fucking perfect.” The compliment draws your smile into a large grin as you chuckle softly.

“Perfect, eh?” You tease, running a hand over his shoulder. You rest it at the nape of his neck, your fingers playing with the tips of his hair. “I don’t think perfect exists.”

“It does,” he says immediately.

“Maybe.” Acting boldly, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, admiring the sharp line with your mouth as he sighs beneath you. “You’re a dangerous man, aren’t you?” You say, finishing your trail of kisses at his ear. You let your breath fan out across his skin for a moment before pressing a final kiss to his earlobe, feeling his body tense beneath you.

“Yeah,” he admits.

You pull yourself back to face him, your eyebrow arched. “Will you keep me safe?” You ask. It hangs heavy in the air, a multitude of layers hidden away behind the few words.

Tom nods, a hand drawing up to find home in your hair. His fingers bury in the strands and he uses his leverage to draw you nearer until your noses are touching, his cold skin pressing to yours in the most delicate way.

“I will always protect you,” he promises, voice serious.

Your lips quirk into a slight smile. “Kiss me,” you ask.

His mouth is on yours in an instant, lips chapped but warm as they slide over yours. It’s soft, for a moment, but then you grip his hair and pull him nearer and it grows stronger. Passion flows between you as you cling to him, his mouth hot and luxurious and it draws a heat between your legs as you feel his teeth catch at your lower lip. When you part your lips and grant him access, his tongue dances with yours and you moan into his mouth, every inch of you aching for him, burning with desire to keep him here. His hand in your hair holds you close as the other wanders over your side, caressing your figure softly but warmly, and you turn to butter in his hold, kissing, and kissing, and kissing, until your lips are numb and your lungs burn. When you pull away, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes pulling open just enough to make brief contact with yours. He looks softer now, less anxious, more in control.

“I wish I could do that forever,” he admits. Both hands find your waist, holding you comfortably as he smirks at you. “You’re something else.”

You shrug slightly, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you, Tom,” you tease, eyeing him carefully. “You gonna come back again tomorrow?”

He raises a scruffy eyebrow. “You want me to come back tomorrow?”

Your lips split into a wide smile. “Yeah,” you admit. “Maybe the day after that, too. If you want.”

“I’ll be here,” he promises. “I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be.”

You kiss him again, softer. His lips are warm and they already feel a little bit like home. You realise that he’s got you, both physically, because his fingers grip your waist so strongly, but also emotionally, because you look into the depths of his warm, mysterious eyes, and you realise you don’t want to forget what they look like.

“I might want you around for a long time. Is that a problem?”

Tom shakes his head, body relaxing. He kisses you. “Not a problem at all,” he confirms. “I feel like… I feel like you might change my life, love.”

You laugh quietly, rolling your eyes. “Who knew you’d be such a sap,” you tease. Tom frowns, his grip on your waist tightening, and you swallow deeply as he steadies you. “I’m kidding. Relax.” You kiss him again, quickly.

“You think you can just distract me with kisses?” He says, voice confident. You nod your head arrogantly.

“Oh, yeah,” you confirm. “I think you’re the kind of person who will be very easy to distract.” To prove your point, you take a long moment to grind your hips down, feeling the hard presence of his erection pressing up against your covered core. You giggle and your head falls to the crook of his neck, and Tom’s hands rub over your back as he holds you close.

“You’re a minx,” he says. “Such a tease.”

“I’m a lot of things,” you whisper against his neck. You feel his lips brush over the top of your head and let him hold you, close, gripping you tightly, and it feels like you’ve known him for infinity already.

“I’m excited to figure you out, Y/N.”

You tilt your head and run a line of brief kisses up his neck until eventually finding his lips, seizing them in a short peck. “Me too, Tom,” you admit. “I feel like you’re gonna be really special to me,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“Oh, so who’s the sap now, huh?” He teases, drawing your smile wider.

“Shut up,” you say.

“Make me.”

And then, quite simply, you’re back to kissing, and you know he’s dangerous, and you know he’s powerful, but his touch on your waist is gentle and he’s kissing you so slowly and softly that none of that really matters. It doesn’t matter that you don’t entirely know who he is, because there’s a connection tethering your soul to his, and you can feel it - even if it’s only been a few days. It’s a type of connection that you’ve never felt before, and it thrills you, but it also terrifies you. Because you know that the man beneath you holds the keys to the world, but it comes at a cost, and you’re not sure you can afford the price if it all falls apart.

But fuck it. He’s kissing you, and it’s perfect, and you crave to stay like this forever, curled up in his lap like this. So what if the world burns? You’re perfectly happy exactly where you are, Tom’s hands on your hips, your mouths moving in sync. And as he holds you close, you know there’s nowhere else your heart would be safer than tucked up here with him.

[mythicamagic]

The Colour of Love: Sesskag oneshot

This oneshot is dedicated to @chierafied​ as thanks for all her hard work and organisation in the sesskag community, particularly on tumblr for sesskag week and monthly prompts. She's also a wonderful sesskag author and always offers advice or a kind word ^^

Rated T

Summary: Shippo puts a spell on Kagome that allows her to see emotions in colour. It's fun to test out on her friends, but why is she seeing an awful lot of magenta around Sesshoumaru whenever she comes near? Sesskag oneshot

The Colour of Love

"I just need to test it on someone. You'll help, won't you?"

Kagome eyed the ominous glowing beverage in the fox's hands dubiously. She winced and picked up a basket, walking away with every intention of weaselling out of the conversation.

"Shippo, no offence, but the last time you tested something on me for class, horns sprouted out of my head and green pimples covered my face for an entire week. I'm not super keen on being your guinea pig this time, buddy."

His tail twitched and lowered, but her words did little to deter Shippo. He followed the miko as she attended to her chores; freeing swaying sheets from where they'd been hanging out to dry and folding them neatly into a basket.

"Oh pleeassee, Kagome! Sensei oversaw my casting process this time- there's no danger, honest! It's not even that cool of a spell."

Kagome arched a brow, lifting off another sheet and smoothing the cool creases. That was odd, Shippo always preferred the flashier spells. "What does it do?"

"It would let you see everyone's emotions in colour."

She tilted her head, "in colour? How would that work?"

Shippo grinned mischievously, holding up his cup and shaking it gently. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Giggling, she thought for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it sounds pretty harmless. And this is for a grade?"

"Yes!" he nodded rapidly, eyes widening as his tone became pleading. "Sensei already graded all the other kids! I'm the only one who hasn't passed yet, and everyone else in the village refuses to help me! I'd owe you big time, Kagome. Please?"

Giving a large, put-upon sigh and folding the last of the sheets, Kagome squatted down before him. "Alright, alright. I just have to drink it?"

Green eyes brightened, and he handed the cup over eagerly, the contents nearly spilling. "Mhm! The effects should only last for a few days~!"

The glowing blue shimmer within her cup didn't exactly fill Kagome with confidence, but she didn't want to stifle his progress. It was wonderful that Shippo could advance in his magic at a kitsune school. Secretly, she felt somewhat guilty about the subject. She hadn't been able to witness his growth for three years after being stuck in the future.

Steeling herself and deciding to support him, Kagome downed the foul-tasting concoction. Coughing and blinking away thick tears that stung her lashes, her tongue roved around in her mouth as though trying to escape the taste of sour candy mixed with spices and mint leaves. What an odd combination. Shaking herself and noticing Shippo watching her worriedly, blue eyes widened as a faint shade of grey coiled and moved around the outline of his body like a shining aura.

"I-I think I see it?" Kagome gasped, reaching out and trying to touch the thing, though it had no solid form.

"Really?" Shippo lit up, the colour immediately becoming a tentative yellow, which only shone brighter into a canary hue when she nodded.

Giving a happy cheer, Shippo asked her about any side effects, which were none as far as she could tell.

They then decided to walk around Kaede's village together, Kagome noting any people they passed by and the colour of their current emotions. Shippo hurriedly took notes.

"There's Miroku meditating-" Kagome pointed to the quiet meadow they passed where the monk sat calmly, having gained two pupils to teach. Monks in training. Inuyasha had voiced his doubts that it would last long once the monks witnessed Miroku's less than savoury habits.

"His aura thingy is lavender and seems controlled," she observed in a hushed tone.

The little kitsune made a noise of affirmation, writing that down on a trailing scroll. "I think purple must be linked with spirituality then? This is great info!"

Giggling, she nodded, noticing how faint the pupil's auras were. She wondered if her own focus on spirituality would be strong or weak.

Moving on, noticed Sango outside her hut, who seemed absorbed in rocking her infant son while he dozed. Her twins were playing with some spinning tops that Shippo had given them.

"What do ya see, Kagome?" he tugged at her pant leg.

She hummed, gaze gentling. "Sango is radiating a kind of baby pink glow. The twins are like yours earlier- yellow and excited."

"So I guess love is pink," Shippo nodded.

Noticing something, Kagome waved a hand slightly. "Hold on-"

"Hm?"

Kaede and Rin were walking towards them, engaged in conversation. The little girl chirped on about something or other, while Kaede nodded indulgently.

"Kaede and Rin have pink auras too, but it's different. It's a pale pink, more like a pearl."

Shippo tapped his small chin with a pen Kagome had lent him. "Hmm…"

"I guess it makes sense since there are different types of love, don't you think?" gently prodding him, she smiled.

"Oh! So like they're feeling something kinda similar to Sango, but different."

"Right," Kagome grinned wider, proud of him. "Familial love for Sango, and platonic, friendly love for Kaede and Rin."

The old miko and her charge stopped to greet them on the path. "What are ye both up to today?" Kaede's single eye slid down to the scroll questioningly.

Kagome waved it off. "Just some schooling."

"Yeah, but it's fun! We're testing magic!"

Rin gaped at Shippo, aura turning green. "Aww, can I help them?" she turned to Kaede with a pout, clasping both hands and making big brown eyes even wider.

"Ye have your own training to attend to, Rin. Come along," the old woman kept walking with a dusty chuckle.

Whining good-naturedly with a now agitated orange glow about her, Rin trudged after her guardian, giving a despondent farewell to Shippo.

At that moment, foul cursing filled the air. The loud, booming swear caused nesting birds to take flight from their trees near the village.

The miko and kit shared a dry look.

"Inuyasha," they sighed in unison.

Needless to say, their former travelling companion's emotions glowed a vibrant red- outshining even the robe of the fire rat. He held his sore thumb, having accidentally hammered it while fixing a neighbour's chicken coop. Kagome wisely hid her laughter, feeling a plume of affection for him, since he'd taken it upon himself to help a neighbour.

I wonder what colour surrounds me when I look at Inuyasha, she wondered, fishing out a small mirror. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the colour. Though they'd broken up after a couple of weeks of dating, that candle of first love between them wouldn't be snuffed out completely. Since she couldn't coax that flame any higher than a tiny, nostalgic flame, she wagered it to be a kind of pastel pink colour.

After a few hours, Shippo looked down at the list of emotions they'd observed. "I think I got most of em' for now. We did great today, Kagome! Thanks so much!"

She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I need to collect some herbs now, so if I see some new ones while I'm out, I'll let you know," Kagome grinned, leaning a basket against her hip. "I'll be able to see these emotions for a few more days, so no sense in turning in your test results early."

Shippo gave her a brief hug, before racing off to go organise his notes. Beaming with pride, Kagome walked out of the village and up a hill towards Inuyasha Forest with a small skip in her step. She'd helped! And luckily there'd been no side effects or worries of any kind.

Maybe I should help him out more often, she mused, noticing a certain Daiyoukai step out from beneath the shade of trees, powder blue shifting around his aura calmly. Smiling amiably, Kagome lifted a hand in greeting as their gazes met- before freezing.

Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change from its usual combo of placid, haughty and stoic. However, the energy surrounding him immediately dyed a deep, vibrant colour.

Kagome's breath hitched, eyes widening.

It plunged into a bold magenta hue, becoming a solid outline that coiled and thrummed.

She did not understand what it meant, but that she could elicit a change in emotion from him at all felt startling.

He stared at her, unblinking. As he drew closer and closer, Kagome tried to make sense of what he could be feeling, but his guarded eyes refused to risk any secrets being revealed.

"Miko," he acknowledged in his usual crisp, silky baritone. His way of a greeting.

"Sesshoumaru," she said, muscles tensing as he passed by, the silk of his billowing sleeve brushing the hypersensitive skin of her arm. Kagome blinked rapidly, reeling.

Shifting to watch him leave surreptitiously, she watched the magenta remain long after they'd parted ways, spying him duck into Kaede's hut to pay Rin a visit.

What the heck was that about?

Maybe it wasn't anything worth noting. Surely, just like anyone else, the Daiyouki had various emotions linked to things. People elicited different feelings from him; that was perfectly normal. But his mood had changed so swiftly upon seeing her that Kagome couldn't help but feel curious. What did magenta mean? Had she offended him? Did he always feel that specific emotion around her, or was it a one-off?

Turning on her heel, Kagome dismissed her task of fetching herbs in favour of seeking Shippo out again.

---

"What does magenta mean to you?"

"To me?"

Kagome nodded seriously.

Thinking for a moment, Shippo hummed and nommed on a lollipop, leaning back on the log he'd perched upon outside. "I dunno, it's a pretty colour but not a favourite. Can't get much use outta it with my crayons."

"No, I mean like - surely there has to be some demon opinion of magenta? Is it associated with a powerful emotion or something?"

Shippo shook his head, consulting the forgotten scroll. "My guess is- since purple is spiritual stuff, Sesshoumaru feels uh...like you remind him of holy things?"

Huffing out a sigh, she flopped down beside him, placing her chin in her hands. "Doubt that. He didn't seem calm," she mumbled, remembering the vivid intensity of his unblinking stare. "Hm, maybe since red- which is anger- and darker blue- which is sadness- has to mix to make the right shade of magenta, that means Sesshoumaru is both angry and sad when he looks at me." Kagome's stomach dropped. "Oh God, do I make him smad?"

Shippo snorted and tossed his lollipop aside to shake her arm, noticing the dazed look of worry glazing her eyes. "You don't make him smad."

Kagome remained unconvinced. The kit groaned, hopping up and grabbing her hand. "You don't! I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was feeling magenta around you. Let's go see!"

The miko stumbled after the exuberant fox, not fully realising where he intended to go until it clicked they were heading toward Kaede's hut. Kagome's heels abruptly dug into the earth, dragging. "Shippo!" she hissed. "He's visiting Rin- I don't want to interrupt."

"You won't be, it looks like they're saying goodbye already."

Blue eyes widened and her attention snapped up from the fox to land on some distant figures up ahead. Even from far away, Kagome could see the pearl pink aura coiling around Sesshoumaru as he lay a gentle hand upon Rin's head of brown hair. The girl beamed, giving off her own warm shine.

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, heedless of her own approach now. She realized then just how personal and vulnerable the emotion spell could be- how rare and revealing it was to witness Sesshoumaru experiencing such a wholesome bond, free from violence. Enemies could potentially use it on each other to find out secret information easily.

The Daiyoukai seemed to inhale- abruptly stiffening and lifting his hand away from Rin as claws twitched, curling into his palm. Kagome witnessed the moment his aura bled darker, slipping from innocent pink into the strong shade of magenta- just as he turned his head in their direction. Golden eyes pinned her in place. Sesshoumaru seemed to grow tense and watchful, showing none of his previous warmth.

Shippo paused when they weren't too far away, glancing up and noticing Kagome's pale expression. "Uh... has it happened again?"

"It's even worse than before," Kagome whispered.

"Kagome, Shippo!" Rin called over to them, waving. "Are you still playing with magic?"

This seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's attention, ripping his heavy gaze away to land on his ward. "Magic?"

"Mhm! They're doing some kitsune homework with a spell," she smiled, seeming to gain a devious expression and hurrying over to grab Kagome's freehand, pulling her the rest of the way towards her lord. "Kagome! You should take a quick break and sit with Lord Sesshoumaru. Share some tea together!"

Horror churned fierce and fast through Kagome's system. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and prolonged exposure to her would no doubt suck for him if magenta was an irritated colour.

"That is unnecessary, Rin," Sesshoumaru uttered, confirming Kagome's suspicions. She winced a little anyway, wondering why it stung. "This one was just passing through, I will leave now."

Making a noise of complaint, the girl's grip tightened. "Well then, she should accompany you! W-we need medicinal herbs and you didn't gather any earlier, did you Kagome?"

She willed the earth to swallow her whole. "N-no…"

"Then it's decided! She can walk you to the forest since she's heading that way." Rin poked and prodded them to get moving. In all the confusion, Shippo slipped away to make some notes, giving Kagome a thumbs up- which she returned with a death glare.

Wondering what had come over Rin but being trapped by politeness to refuse, Kagome grimly started walking alongside Sesshoumaru, picking up a basket from Kaede's hut.

I shouldn't feel guilty or weird around him, she thought, trying to ease her worry. If he's getting bent out of shape just from seeing me, that's his problem. I'm pretty confident I haven't insulted him recently.

Kagome nodded silently to herself, endeavouring not to let Sesshoumaru's secret magenta emotion matter so much-

"You appear well."

Jumping, Kagome whipped her head up to the regal demon. "Huh?" she blinked, heat touching her cheeks. "Oh! Thanks!" the magenta outline grew bolder, much to her chagrin. "You look nice too. Aha-! I mean not nice- well, you look handsome- but in a good health way! Not a 'compliment on your looks' way. That's totally what I meant. "

Open mouth, insert foot.

His aura only seemed to fluctuate more, and Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. Kagome inwardly groaned. No doubt he hated her even more now!

She decided an attempt to smooth over everything was in order. "Sesshoumaru," she said, taking a breath. "I know we might not be what you'd consider close, but I'd be totally fine with talking about anything that might be bothering you. Even allies can talk about that stuff."

Sesshoumaru blinked languidly, looking as though she'd blurted out a foreign language. He then faced forward, features becoming tightly controlled. "Nothing unsettles me, miko. It is a foolish, human sentiment that I should be 'bothered' by anything."

Kagome rolled her eyes, mouth twitching. Proud, stubborn guy. She didn't know why she found it kind of endearing.

"Why are you so certain I am troubled?"

Her steps faltered before she strode on, biting her bottom lip. "I have a knack for feeling out these things. A woman's intuition," she grinned, noticing his stare rove lower, south from her eyes.

"Hn," golden eyes lingered. Kagome wondered if she'd gotten something stuck in her teeth. "Your intuition is certainly lacking if you are only just noticing something amiss."

A victorious noise escaped her and she immediately swooped in on the slip-up. Sesshoumaru seemed to wince. "Aha! So something IS wrong!"

"Miko-"

"It's just that you've been dealing with it for such a long time that it's become almost normal to you. That about right?" she grinned.

Kagome took his moody silence as a 'yes.'

"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it earlier. Shippo's um...spell...has made me extra sensitive to how others are feeling," she revealed a half-truth. "I just can't work out how you're feeling. Heh, you're mysterious even when I've got magic to help me understand you."

"You wish to understand me?"

"Well, yes? You're our ally. As established; I'd like to be your friend too."

"I see."

"Sooo...?" Kagome hedged as they arrived at the border of the trees. The Daiyoukai stopped and turned to her once they were beneath the branches, having stepped under cool shade. Kagome quieted, wondering at the assessing, guarded look he pinned her with. Why should the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru guard himself against her of all people?

Pale lips quirked, and he hummed, giving a haughty, arrogant smirk. "Figure it out yourself."

Her mouth fell open. Ire immediately simmered real and hot beneath her skin. "That's not helpful, Sesshoumaru! The whole point of having friends is to share stuff! You can't expect people to know how you're feeling without you telling them, I'm not a mind reader."

He moved in slightly closer then, leaning down. Kagome swallowed but tensed her legs to keep from bending back, holding her ground and straightening her spine. It proved difficult. Sesshoumaru's cold features had a way of unnerving even the most hardened warriors. It was the lack of empathy or emotion in his animalistic gaze; the terrifying sense that something was missing; humanity.

But...

Kagome's eyes strayed to the magenta aura that only blazed thicker and larger, practically drowning her. The spell revealed, albeit without his consent; that Sesshoumaru was a man of feeling. In fact, whatever emotion plagued him, it roared stronger than any other persons she'd seen that day. Besides all that, she'd witnessed his care of others before. Been on the receiving end of it when he'd saved her a few times.

In the shade's hush, he tipped his head slightly, silver hair falling free from behind a pointed ear. "I am not a being that 'tells' other's information freely. Demons can glean enough from my body language, scent and actions enough to understand my feelings."

"And I appreciate that," Kagome said in a softer tone. "But I'm not a demon."

"Rin-"

"Is a child who has spent a lot of one-on-one time with you. I'd also wager that while she understands a lot of your intentions...she doesn't always understand you either."

Sesshoumaru begrudged her point, though seemed ever unwilling to let his mask slip to reveal anything.

Searching his gaze, she wet her dry lips. "What does the colour magenta mean to you?"

His aura flared, and Sesshoumaru surprised her by leaning back and stepping away. His features became a mix of things, the colours changing for the first time around him- grey, yellow, black, fluctuating on magenta and orange before settling on a particular shade of red that made her squeak.

No way- is he embarrassed?

"Why ask that?" he asked in a removed, steady tone. If she focused though, Kagome could pick up on the faint slip in his voice.

Kagome for once couldn't answer, heart hammering in her ribcage. She wasn't sure what to interpret from his reaction, but the colour obviously meant something to him. Shaking her head, Kagome waved it off.

"Never mind. I'll take your advice and work it out for myself."

He blinked and arched a brow, seeming to recover from his surprise. "Oh?"

Kagome made a noise of affirmation, turning on her heel and taking a few steps away. Pausing, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "And if I guess correctly, you agree to start telling me the important stuff. Deal?"

Sesshoumaru's face flashed with intrigue. Slowly, thin lips curved. His expression transformed into something quietly eager, the colour aura deepening into blazing magenta once more.

"Hn."

---

After asking near everyone she could think of for their input or ideas, Kagome ran into a brick wall, utterly stumped. That was- until she heard a certain irritatingly high, grating voice.

"But WHERE did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"

"I don't know, he said he was just passing through."

Jaken.

If anyone had insight into Sesshoumaru, it would be the little green imp. Kagome hurried in the direction of the helium sounding voice.

Finding Rin and Jaken by the village well, and struggling to pull a bucketful up together- Kagome quickly lent a hand, hefting the bucket up onto the side. The little girl grinned and thanked her, while Kagome crouched before Jaken, causing him to squeak.

"W-what is it? What do you want?!"

"I need to talk to you," Kagome said seriously. Resting her hands over her knees and leaning forward intently. "Magenta. Tell me your thoughts on that colour."

Bulbous yellow eyes widened. "Hah? Have you lost your senses, strange girl?"

Rin pouted and lifted the heavy bucket down, spilling some water. "Just do it, Master Jaken. If Kagome is asking, it must be important."

Kagome smiled a little, before schooling her features back into complete seriousness.

The imp sighed and squinted, before thinking for a moment. "Hmm, well. I would of course associate it with the most illustrious Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"H-huh? Why?"

"His cheek and wrist stripes are that exact shade! Don't you pay attention to anything?"

Kagome realised he was entirely correct. They matched up perfectly. Excitement built in her chest, feeling like she was FINALLY getting somewhere with the big mystery. "So it's linked with him… I see. What do you think the colour represents?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," he tilted his head back with a haughty sniff. "But since they adorn Lord Sesshoumaru, I can only conclude that it must be a royal, prideful colour."

Her elation fizzled out. Kagome wilted, sighing and standing once more. That didn't fit at all. No way would Sesshoumaru feel pride while looking at her.

Stepping away with the dismal thought that she was back at square one, she paused upon noticing a tugging on her sleeve. Rin clutched the trailing end of it, looking up at her in quiet earnest. She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with something. "I-I'm sure the answer is there if you just try asking more questions, Kagome."

The miko softened and petted her wild hair, smoothing the locks back from her face. "You really think so, kiddo? Because I'm kind of stumped right now."

"Mhm! I don't know what homework you're helping Shippo with, but if its causing you to take an interest in Lord Sesshoumaru, I encourage you to dig deeper!"

Kagome wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about the subject, her smile becoming a little confused. Nonetheless, she decided to take the advice and try again.

The right question…

Grabbing the back of Jaken's robes and tugging him back before he could walk off, Kagome knelt down. She decided to shift her focus. "Those markings on Sesshoumaru's face and wrists- I was wondering if they mean anything."

"Bah! Such things have a multitude of uses! Ahem!" he lifted up a tiny green claw. "Firstly, they are to show that he is poisonous."

Kagome stifled a giggle behind her hand, smiling with her eyes at Rin. "So he's like a flower."

"No! Nothing like a flower! He is deadly!"

"Poisonous flowers exist- but never mind that," she waved off. "What else?"

"Second, the positioning of the markings represents various things. The ones on mi lord's cheeks represent superior jaws, the wrists and ankles represent superior strength in his arms and legs, while the hips represent that he will produce superior offspring."

Kagome turned steadily red, wondering how low those stripes hooked down his hips. She hadn't even known he possessed hip stripes and was now picturing him half-naked. Kagome quickly shook the fantasy away. Rin didn't seem to understand that last part but thankfully remained quiet.

Jaken continued on, bolstered by such a captive audience and happy to talk about his favourite subject. "Lastly, they are to catch the interest of a mate."

"They... are?"

The imp nodded with vigour. "If you were the slightest bit observant, you'd notice that the vibrancy of his markings has emboldened recently. This means he is displaying for a female."

She had noticed that, actually, but Kagome hadn't thought anything of it. She felt close to a conclusion then, so achingly near to the truth. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, Kagome soldiered on.

"I saw that the ones on his cheeks had become bolder. What about his crescent moon?"

Jaken waved a tiny hand, "the moon is just to show which clan he belongs to. In relation to your original question, it is the magenta markings that are paramount. They are intrinsically linked with all that I noted; intimidation signals and mating."

Kagome nodded, inwardly reeling. She mulled this over and thanked him for the valuable insight. Magenta obviously meant more to Sesshoumaru than she'd ever thought.

In light of Jaken's words, Kagome found herself having to observe a certain set of emotions. Since mating was on the list, she reluctantly wandered in search of a known pervert.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took Miroku to one side. After explaining the situation in a succinct manner, she took a breath.

"I need you to get horny for your wife."

Miroku stared. He then pushed back his sleeves, clearing his throat and righting his collar. "My time has come."

Kagome's eyes widened and she held up her hands, "wait- I'm not asking to be weird or anything. M-maybe I should explain more."

He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting. "No further explanation necessary, Lady Kagome. If this is in service of deeper understanding between allies, I am more than happy to help. Observe."

Miroku breezily walked away, gravitating towards Sango who had set down their son, attention on the crawling toddler. Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands- shifting some fingers aside to witness the moment Miroku's calm blue aura darkened.

For a moment, panic leapt down her windpipe as it deepened into purple, hovering over magenta- before the aura settled on a lush hot pink.

The sound of a slap sounded out, Sango moving away from Miroku's groping hand. "I've told you before; not in front of the children!" she hissed.

Her husband laughed airly, stroking his cheek and giving her a fond smile. Kagome's heart warmed slightly, witnessing the hot pink glow into a warm pinkish red.

I think that must be the colour of love.

This, unfortunately, didn't answer any of her questions.

The possible things Sesshoumaru could be feeling toward her made the miko's stomach twist into knots. She went over what to say in her head a dozen or so times- and then a dozen more. It was no easy feat to wait on pins and needles for the demons' return. Inevitably though, word of his return reached her a few days later.

---

Sesshoumaru had been spotted by the trees bordering Inuyasha Forest so she'd set off alone immediately.

Since the sun beat down mercilessly, Kagome was unsurprised to find him by water. Elevated temperatures were likely brutal on those who regularly wore armour- evidenced by the fact that she walked in on him very much without it. Sesshoumaru knelt by a river, eyes closed and hankimono parted- exposing a thin sliver of firm, pale muscle. His head slightly dipped forward, hair held over one shoulder as one hand cupped cool water and splashed it over the back of his neck. Droplets ran down the length of his throat to dip around his collarbone- some sliding down his back. Sesshoumaru massaged the base of his skull, before cupping more water and repeating the process, long fingers running over the back of his glistening neck.

Kagome stared. She'd suddenly never been so thirsty in her life.

His lashes fluttered open to glance at her. His continued silence prompted her to clear her throat and murmur; "I'm not sure if I've got it right."

"Explain."

Kagome felt a blush rise to her cheeks and panic erupted in her chest. She suddenly wasn't ready. She wasn't nearly as ready for this as she needed to be. Approaching the Daiyoukai dressed in a white tank top and dungarees had not been the plan but she'd impulsively sought him out without thinking about it.

His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "What conclusion did you reach?"

Kagome bit her lip and felt the need to explain her process of elimination. "First off; I feel like I should be honest with you. I can see the colours of people's emotions around them due to a spell Shippo used on me. That's why I was asking about magenta. It's...it's the emotion you keep feeling whenever you see me- I just had no idea what it meant."

Golden eyes cracked a fraction wider, exposing the liquid honey swimming inside, glinting in the afternoon sunlight with interest.

"I asked Jaken about the colour since he has an insight into you more sound than other people. He told me that magenta was linked to your markings- which can represent intimidation signals and m-mating interest."

He arched a brow, something unnamed flickering over his expression. Kagome began pacing back and forth before him. "So! The first thing I did was follow Inuyasha into a fight. There was a weasel youkai bothering a farmer. I noticed Inuyasha's aura turned a brownish, orangey-red during the fight and concluded that was likely aggression! So I figured you weren't feeling defensive around me," she gave a nervous giggle. Why was the sun so damn bright? The humidity only elevated the spike of nerves pricking the back of her neck.

"Next came the... other thing," her voice dimmed and Kagome evaded eye contact. "I noticed Miroku feeling uh...frisky around his wife. His aura turned hot pink- so it wasn't magenta- not that I thought you could ever feel that way about...me," she babbled. "Hell, I've consulted Shippo's scroll a thousand times. I've run through all the emotions we could find and- gah! I couldn't find anything that explained magenta. I guess I failed in figuring out what's bothering you," her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You went to all that trouble?"

Kagome lifted her gaze to his, loosely holding her arms. "Well, yeah. I kind of realised that I wasn't being fair to you the other day. You shouldn't be expected to verbalise your problems if you're not comfortable doing so. It's a different method than what I'm used to in order to communicate- but if you're happy doing that I won't push you to open up to me."

Since she'd failed to work out his problems, however, Kagome grimly figured there was no hope of them being friends. The thought somewhat bothered her. Sesshoumaru was a solid, assuring presence to have around. It would've been nice to have a deeper insight into the inner mechanisms of his cerebral mind.

Maybe priestesses and demons just can't understand each other.

A shadow fell over her, bathing Kagome in shade. She looked up, finding his curious, burning gaze bearing down on her.

As usual, magenta coiled and expanded around him. So large and encompassing.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly. "Some actions do not require words in order to understand them."

Kagome could only blink, face heating as he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it up- before her heart burst into overdrive in time with lips pressing against hers.

Her squeak came out muffled, hands scrambling uselessly and finding his shoulders, quickly lurching away from the firm muscle to hover uselessly in the air. Sesshoumaru grabbed one of her hands and forced it to his broad shoulder, holding it there as he explored her open mouth.

The miko reeled, dazed eyes picking up the shining magenta aura before her lashes slid shut. Kagome let out a breathy noise as his tongue slid over hers, reciprocating for a moment before her mind caught up with the situation and- WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING?

Kagome's palm pushed against his broad shoulder, ripping her mouth away from his and panting. Sesshoumaru remained close, breath shuddering slightly, gaze hooded.

"That-" she started, having to lick her lips. "That requires MANY words, buster. So many words are needed to explain what the hell just happened."

The Daiyoukai managed to look put out, eyes turning flat. "It seems your ignorance requires a lack of subtlety, but I do not mind. If it is necessary to have you- I will adapt and explain myself."

"To... have me?" Kagome's breath hitched. Somehow magenta was all she could see- his cheek markings so bold and bright.

Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked, eyes squinting and attention shifting away as he seemed to gather his thoughts and construct them onto his tongue.

"Magenta is the colour of love to inuyoukai."

He said it so easily. After all that confusion and so much second-guessing, Kagome was almost angry with him. Almost. The rest of her brain was too focused on processing the unthinkable thing he'd just said and the implications behind it.

"But...your markings…" she croaked.

"Have little to do with it- though Jaken's explanation was not incorrect."

Kagome shook her head, searching his face. "I just...I'm struggling to understand h-how? I mean, you can't feel that way about me."

"Why not?"

"B-because!" she squeaked, cheeks blazing red. "Isn't love a bit of a leap? You barely know me."

Sesshoumaru huffed, placid features shifting to become slightly guarded. He didn't know when it had started happening for he was in the middle before he even knew he had begun, but more and more, he sought her opinions and company. She spoke well and intelligently after all- had destroyed Naraku and the jewel with such power and finesse that had made his instincts stir. "I know enough. This is not something recent. I have watched... and wondered for some time."

"Wondered... what?"

"If it was possible to bridge the gap between us. Perhaps it was foolish to think we could be compatible."

He had a point. Even a spell hadn't helped her understand him any easier. But when Sesshoumaru slowly stepped back, quiet disappointment simmering behind his blank mask yet clear in his eyes- something like panic possessed her. Kagome grabbed his sleeve, blushing harder.

She wasn't sure why alarm had shot through her- but the idea of losing their soft, hopeful flickering flame before they'd even coaxed it brighter to see what heights it could reach felt like something she'd regret forever if she let him go.

Kagome stepped closer. "Not foolish. This is just really unexpected for me."

Golden eyes roved over her face questioningly.

"The colour of love is different for humans, so it never even crossed my mind that THAT was what you've been struggling with. Jaken mentioned you were displaying for a female but- wow," she murmured, gentling. "Thank you... for telling me. No one's ever said that to me before."

Sesshoumaru's expression warmed, just a touch. He inclined his head slightly and Kagome felt an odd flutter in her belly.

"I'm not in the same place as you emotionally but- if- if you'd want to try this human thing called 'dating' we could give it a shot and get to know each other better."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru gave her a considering look, and she almost thought he might decline before the ghost of a smile tilted up his lips. "What is 'dating?'"

Kagome's face burst into a grin, and she took his clawed hand. "You're gonna love it. It involves a lot of talking."

He gave a mock groan, aura glowing brighter.

Naturally, Shippo passed his test with flying colours. His sensei was particularly impressed by his observation of both human and inuyoukai emotions in particular.

He decided to use the spell on himself several months later, laughing and chasing Rin around the village, happy to see the yellow aura dancing around her. Something of note he noticed when rushing by was a certain miko and demon lord practising archery together in a field. As Kagome corrected his large stance, hand guiding his elbow down slightly as he aimed, the warm colours of pinkish red and magenta entwined, lacing like long, seeking fingers gently interlocking.

End

[ruewrites]

bestie can we get some solodeus angst

The Next Step

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3081

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey Anon! So I struggled with this request for a bit. So I decided to write a little oneshot for WBT. I hope you like it and I hope this may be what you had in mind for some angst (with a happy ending)!

“So do you wanna do something this week? We could go check out that movie  we thought might be bad. Frankenzilla’s Aquatic Monstrocity Two?” he tried to make his voice sound as tempting as possible. The semester was coming to a close  and Asmo missed his boyfriend. It felt like he hadn’t seen him outside of the one class they had together and even then their only greeting was a quick kiss before running to the next place. 

Sure they had coffee trips still, but both of them were too exhausted to usually say much and then classes interrupted any other time they might have. 

Solomon sighed on the other end of the line. The soft tapping of his keyboard reached Asmo on the other end of the line. Was it another application or course work this time? Perhaps he was responding to another email from the staff at one of the schools he applied to. There were many options, and each one twisted a knot in his stomach.

“I can’t tonight. I’m overloaded right now. You know, assignments destined to kill me and all. If not the assignments, the applications.” Despite the chuckle tinting his voice, Asmo could hear how tired Solomon was.  He could practically picture the piles of empty or lukewarm coffee cups surrounding him. It was a familiar sight, and one that Asmo would often see when trying to coax him to bed to relax and get some sleep. That was another thing Asmo had been missing: cuddling. The way Solomon’s arms would wrap around his waist, or when Asmo would commandeer Solomon’s chest as his own personal pillow. 

Quality time was something Asmo desperately needed, especially before the next step came… And graduation was rapidly approaching.

“Well, we don’t have to see the movie!” Asmo’s voice was coming out quickly, and he hated it.

“Asmo-”

“We can go walk in the park-”

“I really ca-”

“Or we could go to our favorite cafe! The one off campus. Wouldn't it be-”

“Asmodeus.” 

Asmo’s words died on his tongue. Solomon snapped at him. Solomon never snapped at him. Not once in the entire year they’d been together as a couple. When they were younger maybe, but not in their more recent history. It made Asmo sick to his stomach.

 A small whimper left his throat and his fingers gripped his phone a little tighter. 

“Fuck,” Asmo swore he heard Solomon slump back onto the couch, “Asmo, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Asmodeus I-”

“It’s fine,” Asmo was fighting back tears, “It’s fine really-”

“No. No it’s not I shouldn’t talk to you like that, sleep deprived or not. I know you Asmodeus, I know it’s not just fine,” Solomon finally let exhaustion overtake him, his voice was dripping with it, “And I really am sorry, I can’t hang out right now. I want to, I really really do. Honest.”

“It’s fine,” the words came out softer this time before silence stretched over the line. 

Solomon was the first one to break it, “I love you and I miss you.”

“I love you too.” Asmo was just barely keeping himself together, and he had no doubt that Solomon knew this. Solomon knew him too well.

“I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. I promise. I love you, so very much Asmodeus. Goodnight, I’ll see you in class tomorrow if I’m still alive.”

Asmo didn’t even crack a smile at Solomon’s attempt at a joke when he heard the familiar click signaling the end of their call.

They were seniors. They didn’t have much left. What was the next step?

At the news that Mammon could pull some strings to get Asmo some sort of job in the fashion world, he’d been elated. He’d talked about it days upon days on ends with Solomon, and Solomon had been so happy for him. Meanwhile Solomon had been pacing back and forth, waiting for some sort of response from a master’s program. He’d said he’d be happy getting into any school, lucky even, but Asmo knew him. Solomon had his favorite, his ambitious Solomon aimed for the stars and Asmo had no doubt in his mind that he’d end up right where he wanted to be.

But that scared him.

It made him feel terrible. He should be supportive of and happy for Solomon, yet something was holding him back. At this rate, they would only have the summer together, and that wasn’t enough time. The summer would fly by before Asmo knew it and then he’d maybe have to help Solomon move into some fancy dorm somewhere far away from him and his love. 

At one point he’d been excited about the next step in his life, but now graduation just seemed like a looming storm overhead.

His mind was wandering and he couldn’t stop it.

He’d had breakups over less. Expecting Solomon to stay with him after they graduated was selfish, and yet he dared to hope for it. The best he could hope for was that Solomon asked for a break. Was it any better? No. But at least Asmo would have the illusion of hope. People broke up with Asmo over him deciding to dress down or for being too clingy. Then again, he knew he’d dated shallow people in the past and Solomon wasn’t shallow.

But it was still selfish for him to want what he did.

But a part of him didn’t care.

Asmo wasn’t stupid. He knew Solomon was the best he’d ever had. He was attentive, remembered when Asmo said little things, made him feel good in more ways than one, and was nothing short of wonderful. There was no way Asmo was going to let himself lose him and yet-

“He’s going to break up with me.”

“You don’t know that.”

One of the cats of the cafe rubbed against his side. Perhaps she could feel his sorrow. Asmo had just finished sobbing in his room before texting Satan. His pillow had become completely damp with tears and his eyes were red and puffy and looked as if they were made out of glass. Satan could keep his thoughts level and talk Asmo out of whatever negativity currently plagued his thoughts.

“But he hasn’t been spending time with me! Our normal hang out times have been completely run over!” Asmo sniffled, half-heartedly bringing his tea closer to his lips, “This is how breaking up normally starts.”

Satan shook his head, “You really think he went to all that work to get with you only to break up with you? Didn’t he get a tattoo to represent your relationship or something like that when the two of you had barely been dating for a month?”

“Three months. He wanted to get it a month in, but it took me three months to the day of our anniversary to finish the sketch.” Asmo’s fingertips lightly traced the rim of the cup, eyes fixed on his reflection inside. He’d wanted that tattoo to be perfect. So many scrapped ideas had flown around in his head before he was finally happy with one, that and he’d been nervous about Solomon getting a tattoo dedicated to them. They’d gone to every appointment together. Asmo said he wanted to make sure the art was good, what he meant was that he wanted to make sure Solomon didn’t change his mind. 

Had it really all been for nothing?

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

💖Honey Dearest💖: Hey

💖Honey Dearest💖: Look I feel really bad

💖Honey Dearest💖: And I’m very sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: Incredibly sorry

💖Honey Dearest💖: You deserve so much Asmo, and my time for you has been taken up by other things

💖Honey Dearest💖: But I’ll have free time this weekend and I can make reservations for us

💖Honey Dearest💖: I need to talk to you about something

💖Honey Dearest💖: Something that’s been on my mind

Asmo’s heart stopped. With shaking hands he shot up, startling the poor kitty next to him. He shoved his phone into Satan’s face, “See? See??? He wants to talk so he can let me down easy! Oh I’m going to lose him!”

“Asmo hush. You’re startling the cats,” Satan’s brow furrowed as he looked over the text messages, “He’s not saying anything about breaking up with you. It actually seems like he’s putting effort in to see you.”

“You don’t know that! I’ve been here before. I know this isn’t good I- I-”

Oh he was the definition of a mess right now.

“And you don’t know that he’s going to break up with you. You’re not the only one who’s  dated people Asmo,” Satan pushed the phone back into his hands and went to pick the forgotten, luckily unspilled, cup up. “Send him a text and at least hear him out. I think you're reading too much into this.” 

Asmo had drowned Satan out. He vaguely saw him go behind the counter to start remaking his drink again, but other than that Asmo didn’t process a thing. 

Keeping Solomon was his main goal. He needed to figure out how to convince him that they were good for each other, that they could make this work. If he did leave him, Asmo knew that was it. He knew Solomon was the best he could get, and he wasn’t about to lose his chance at a happy future.

After texting Solomon an agreement to the meetup and deciding on a place, the rest of Asmo’s days leading up to the weekend were consumed with worry. In the end he’d made a list of reasons as to why they should stay together and how they could make everything work. If he was being honest with himself, he knew this list was more for him. He wanted to remember his reasons for when the time came. The last thing he wanted was to be left blubbering in public.

He’d made himself up nice. If Solomon was planning to break up with him, he wanted to assure he looked fine as hell and make him second guess the decision. It’d been a while since he’d done himself up this well, maybe he should do it more often. He used to do this all the time with partners because he wanted to make sure they loved him. But Solomon had loved him so matter what. He loved looking at Asmo first thing in the morning before he did himself up and when he was still in one of Solomon’s shirts. 

Asmo had never felt this comfortable in a relationship before. He’d never felt so safe before.

…

He was going to miss that so much…

The feeling of being safe.

Being wanted.

Being adored.

Despite his worries, the whistle that left Solomon’s lips sent a blush to his cheeks. 

“You really look nice.”

Solomon’s hair was slicked back the way Asmo liked it. Why did he also have to put effort into his appearance? Asmo felt even more anxious now, looking at him in the doorway. Solomon was the only one who’d ever made his heart flip like this. It had been impossible to calm himself all the way over  to the restaurant.

Solomon had always been good at picking up when something was off, and Asmo had to wonder what he was thinking. Then again, even though Asmo was being uncharacteristically quiet, Solomon seemed uncharacteristically chatty. Asmo knew he could get that way about things he enjoyed, but this wasn’t one of those moments. Instead Solomon was tripping over his words as he discussed… nothing really. The sinking feeling in his stomach continued as they took their food and left once again to a little secluded place in the park. Solomon has suggested it, he mentioned that it might be best if they could be alone for a bit.

It didn’t make Asmo feel better.

Eating didn’t really seem possible. Instead, Asmo was pushing the food around inside his box. He’d take a bite eventually, as soon as he was sure it’d go down alright. 

“I heard back from the program I applied to,” Solomon started, “I got in.”

“Oh? I’m so happy for you! Solomon that’s wonderful!” Asmo hoped his cheeriness didn’t sound forced.

Are you going to leave? 

“Yeah! It’s a huge relief. One less thing I have to worry about.” Solomon went silent now. The inches between them felt like miles to Asmo. He should feel happier for him. His boyfriend’s dreams were coming true, he knew Solomon had wanted this program more than anything. Why couldn’t he be happy for him?

The soft shutting of Solomon’s to go box brought Asmo’s attention back. Their shoulders brushed and Solomon kept the contact.

“I’m happy I can have this with you,” he murmured, “I know I haven’t been around much this half of the semester, and I do mean it when I say I’m sorry about that. You deserve only good things Asmodeus. You do.”

Asmo stiffened.

“The past year has been nothing but amazing, you’ve been nothing but amazing.”

He was tripping over his words. He’d heard this phrasing before.

“I mean every moment I’ve known you has been a pleasure, but having you close like this, it’s been… wonderful.”

Now. He should say it now. Say how he’d give up an easy in to his dream and follow Solomon wherever he went if it meant they could stay together. The past year had been a dream and Asmo wasn’t ready to wake up and let go yet. He’d go to the ends of the world for Solomon, he’d give up his life for him. The future seemed so blank without Solomon, and Asmo was scared to enter it without him.

“So, what do you say Asmodeus Morningstar? Do you want to take the next step together?” 

Wait.

What?

“Will you marry me?”

Asmo hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. Kneeling in front of him, with the most gorgeous ring Asmo had ever seen, was Solomon. He looked so hopeful yet nervous. There was only one thing Asmo knew, and that was that he wasn’t a pretty crier.

Through blurry eyes he watched as panic overtook his boyfriend as he scrambled to stand up, “Hey hey hey. It’s okay.  We don’t have to-”

Asmo wanted to say something more, wanted to say something profound and loving to Solomon. Instead what came out was unintelligible blubbering for his boyfriend to decipher.

“What do I mean by that?” Solomon asked, “Well I don’t want to force you to marry me. I just thought it would be nice to ask before graduation, and I know I haven’t been able to see you and-”

As Asmo wiped the tears from his eyes, Solomon took in a breath and slowly let it out, “I love you, and even if I couldn’t see you I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.”

Asmo wrapped his arms around Solomon’s neck as he sniffled, and for the first time since their last talk on the phone he found himself smiling. This isn’t what he thought their proposal would look like at all. “I’d like to get married.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” looking into Solomon’s eyes and Asmo almost choked on his words again, “Yes.”

Kissing Solomon had always been a heavenly experience, but Asmo couldn’t help but laugh as his fiance left his lips to cover every inch of his skin in love. Asmo also didn’t miss the way his hands shook when he put that ring on his finger. 

After all of his anxieties, this was definitely a breath of fresh air.

Although, he wouldn’t be telling Satan about how right he’d been.

***

“You suuuuure we can’t get a house?”

“Asmo we won’t be living there forever, we can rent out an apartment and then go house shopping.”

“Mmh, I still like the idea of having a house.”

Asmo sat in between his fiance’s legs, Solomon’s chin resting on his shoulder as the two of them looked over their options. There were a few nice places between Solomon’s grad school and where Asmo would have to drive for his new employer. He’d made sure Mammon knew where the school was so he had a radius to look at. Luckily, Mammon seemed to know a guy. 

This whole situation had been lucky. Asmo wanted to follow Solomon so badly, talking on the phone or video chatting simply just wouldn’t be enough! Solomon’s only condition had been if Asmo could also pursue his dreams as well. No way was he going to let him  not take an opportunity if something was offered to him! 

But it worked out, it always did. It always would one way or another.

“One day we’ll get a nice house, make it all our own,” Solomon mouthed against his neck, “As soon as we get married.”

Giggles left Asmo’s mouth as Solomon’s mouthing turned into tiny butterfly kisses, “I’d like that. But now that you mention it, we never got to celebrate our engagement did we?” 

Solomon paused and looked up at Asmo with a quirked brow. “Celebrate?” his arms tightened around Asmo’s waist, “What did you have in mind?”

Oh Asmo loved that wicked smirk.

“I wanna ceeelebraaate,” he giggled, leaning further into Solomon’s chest.

“I heard you, but that doesn’t tell me what you want.”

Asmo was about to go further when Simeon cleared his throat. He stared at the couple from the archway leading to the kitchen, “Mindful. Someone will be arriving home soon. Don’t make me banish you from the living room.”

“Ah, sorry Simeon, don’t worry, we’ll be mindful.”

“You better, I already have to think about looking for a new roommate because of  you.”

The tone between them was playful, they’d become relatively good friends since Solomon started living there from what Asmo could see. 

“I’m sure I could help,” Asmo chirped, “Maybe one of my brothers or someone else we know might be interested.”

“Thank you Asmodeus, I appreciate that. Now behave, both of you.”

When Simeon disappeared, Solomon leaned close to Asmo’s ear, “We’ll celebrate as soon as we move into the new apartment.”

“Oooh I like that! I guess that means we should pick one out then yes?”

“Oh my smart fiance is very incredibly right.”

Solomon leaned in for a kiss and Asmo gladly obliged. 

While the future was still uncertain to a point, they had each other, and they’d be taking their next steps together.

[cealtrachs]

How many works do you have on AO3?

Fourteen. Eleven from the past 5 months.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Just over 64k.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Boardwalk Empire (my OG fandom, god, such fond memories), Killing Eve, Game of Thrones, and one tiny foray into FMA.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

I would kill, to be the cold. (far from perfect, but very cathartic and educational to write)

two weeks (by far my least favorite of the five, but still good practice)

dissolve in my mouth (and never die) (one of the shortest fics i've written - love fellow killing eve girlies)

running you, with red (sadistic women are my weakness)

Siúil a Rún (the self-indulgent thramsay oneshot that people liked a lot more than expected! dark fealty. many of my vices.)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Most definitely. AO3 is basically me blowing off steam after work (indulging my id), and it's surprising when even one person comments on my fic. So usually I find difficulty re: containing my excitement.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

None! I am chronically tender-hearted, and most often write fluff/PWP.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I'd say "Season after season, same rhyme same reason." or "second seal" My tastes with thramsay are cloyingly sweet.

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

No, and I've never really had a desire to.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Ha, no. If anything, people have been handling me with kid gloves.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. I adore soft d/s with a focus on emotional intimacy (sex as communication) and "possessor becoming the possessed" vibes. I adore seeing villains broken down to their raw, easily bruised parts - without losing what makes them terrible.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Why would someone do that?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No!

Have you ever co-written a fic?

I've received offers, but have never gotten around to it.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

As a ship, definitely Villanelle/Eve. I adore the character progression (Villanelle's concept of love moving from "you're mine and if you're not i'm going to shoot you in the chest" to "i want you to be safe and happy, even if that means i have to resign myself to never seeing you again" as Eve lets the monstrous parts of herself appear) and how well-balanced it is in its toxicity. For fic writing as an abuse survivor, thramsay has been extremely cathartic, and has an amazing breadth of complex work dedicated to it.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Thramsay Phantom Thread AU.

What’s your writing strengths?

I occasionally write good prose, and I write what I want to read.

What’s your writing weaknesses?

I haven't produced enough to judge, but I'd say lack of conflict and under-editing. I'd also like to improve my dialogue.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

As with most things, it depends on the execution.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Boardwalk Empire, when I was 15.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Though not my favorite in execution (I only enjoy Chapters 5 and 6, God bless everyone who managed who get through the first four), "I would kill, to be the cold" is the first fic I've written in six years, and only the third I've written over 2k - it proved to be an extremely fun and cathartic process. As far as result, probably "nothing's gonna take you (from my side)," "Season after season, same rhyme same reason." or "Siúil a Rún"

Thank you to @florentium for the tag. :)

Tagging; @madeofsplinters, @goatsandgangsters@sylvanwhispers @via-whitmore

[alwaysupatnight]

I was tagged by @astarkey!! 🥰

How many works do you have on AO3? 10

What’s your total ao3 word count? currently it’s 70794, but it might be more if I can ever finish this post amaru oneshot I’m working on for @yossariandawn. It was supposed to be a paragraph, but it’s currently 1600 words and therefore more than long enough to post on AO3 once it’s finished.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wild Youth

Giving Up the Ghost

Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

Living Dead Girl

Daddy AF

Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes, I usually respond to all my comments right away, unless I forget and then too much time passes and then it feels weird. 😅 I like to acknowledge my readers and let them know I appreciate their support! And to answer any questions they have or just to engage in conversation. lol I’ve made friends from hijacking the comments section on other authors’ fics before too. And I always love to hear from y’all!!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? I think the twins-verse and Touch series will probably have the happiest endings since they’re the fluffiest fics I’m working on. Also Losing My Cool is supposed to get really smutty in the upcoming chapters and I can’t imagine those two wouldn’t be happy after all of that. lmfao

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I think probably my Beth fic. And Wild Youth. We’ll see about the culebra Seth fic...

Do you write crossovers? Not lately... back in the day I did wanna write a twd/fdtd crossover though and sometimes I still do. lol If anything it would probably just be a twd AU because I’m not in twd fandom anymore. I’m not against adding in cameos though. :P

Have you received hate on a fic? Not since I posted on ffnet like almost a decade ago lol Haven’t gotten any hate on any of my AO3 fics though

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes... lol not in a while though... I have a few fics I’ve been meaning to work on. culebra seth is supposed to have some pretty explicit smut eventually, and the sex fails fic too... I hope my smut writing skills are decent but I really don’t know. I guess it’s still pretty tame? WHATEVER I JUST DON’T SEE SETH GECKO AS BEING VERY ADVENTUROUS IN BED OKAY. HE LOOKS LIKE THAT BUT HE’S SO VANILLA. 🤣

Have you ever had a fic stolen? YES 😤 This was a few years ago, but my first ever sethkate fic -- Got My Love to Keep Me Warm -- got ripped off by another sethkate author *cough* the_stargazing_dreamer *cough* Their fic is still up on AO3 too (ch35 of the glimpses oneshot series), forever taunting me and an eternal reminder of that horrible experience. I contacted the author about it back in the day and they went and changed SOME things, but the plagiarism is still pretty obvious imo. 😒 I really loved their fics up until that point too but now they’re forever boycotted. IF YOU DELIBERATELY PLAGIARIZE SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK YOU ARE A SHITTY PERSON OKAY IDGAF. But just so y’all know, I may occasionally post short works or excerpts of my writing here, but ALL of my writing only goes on my AO3 account under the name alwaysupatnight. So if you see something of mine that is somewhere NOT here on my blog or on my AO3 account, please let me know!

Have you ever had a fic translated? nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but if anyone wants to write something with me I’d be into it!! Although I wouldn’t be able to guarantee I could FINISH anything 😅 my abandoned wips still haunt me to this day

What’s your all-time favorite ship? I feel like whatever I’m currently shipping becomes my all-time fave... lol I’m gonna go with SethKate for this answer though. I haven’t moved on from them yet, and I lowkey hope I never do.

What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Ideally, I’d love to finish all my wips but I realize that would take me several lifetimes... 😅 I’m still dedicated to finishing the culebra Seth fic. And probably also the cruise fic I came up with back when I first joined the fandom. The whole story is there in my outline and everything. I just gotta write it. 😩

What are your writing strengths? I like to think I’m really good at dialogue and keeping everyone in character. Also, I’ve been told I have really good diction by multiple people. I think I’m okay at writing action scenes too.

What are your writing weaknesses? Basically all the stuff that comes in between the dialogue and action lol so like description and PLOT and FEELINGS 😑

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I’ll only do it if I’m confident that what I’m translating is accurate. Otherwise I’ll just summarize it in English lol

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Samurai Champloo. no you can’t read it IT’S AWFUL 🥺

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? I think my favorite thing I’ve EVER written might be this little ficlet I wrote for the Borra fandom back in the day [here]. my favorite thing I’ve posted on AO3, however, would probably be the Touch series fics. THEY’RE SO FLUFFY I LOVE THEM. they make me so happy 😊

I’ve been away from home for almost 2 weeks with oftentimes not great internet, so I’m not sure who might have already done this, but I’m tagging: @imaginedfables, @tiesthatbind1899, @milkshakemicrowave, @sandalaris, @justjstuff, @worthallyourgalleons and any of my other followers who write fic!! 😊

[the-ice-sculpture]

Reflecting on the Loki show

Hurray – fewer instances of cringey humour in Episode 2 than Episode 1!

Shame about there not being a single scene in the entire episode in Episode 2 where Loki felt in character

If this wasn’t a Loki show, I’d probably be enjoying it at the same level as a casual viewer of any other TV show. The plot’s interesting with a different take on time travel that I’ve seen, and there are no boring moments. But I can’t get past the lack of MCU Loki here. I just... Ugh. It’s so frustrating. No other media could get away with the main character suddenly having a personality transplant, but because it’s Marvel people are... fine with it, for some reason?

I can live with the tone and plot being different to what I’d do with it if I’d had the choice. I’ve said multiple times in the past that just because the show probably won’t give me what I want from it doesn’t mean that the show can’t be good in its own right. But what I didn’t anticipate before any of the trailers started coming out was that the Loki here might not feel like MCU Loki at all. I can forgive a lot of things, but I just can’t wrap my head around the sheer number of people who must have given the green light to all the decisions made about his characterisation. Those kinds of things can’t just be blamed on one person, it’d be a combination of the writers, directors, actors, producers...

I never thought that Loki finally getting to be the main character on screen (how many years have I wanted that to happen? 7? 8?) would be the thing to cause me to have my first ever thoughts about quitting this fandom.

I’m not having fun. I’m used to being more than a bit disappointed. I even stayed in the fandom after Thor: Ragnarok came about without much complaining, despite not being a fan of a fair amount of elements in it. I even stayed after Infinity War and Endgame came out with very little complaining either, despite how many things there were that I didn’t like in them. I even rewatched Game of Thrones after being just as unsatisfied with how it was tied up as everyone else was, and I still love the first four seasons and some scenes from later on (yes, even including Season 8).

But I’m not used to being this level of disappointed. The past month I’ve gone from having 5 different Loki WIPs I wanted to write to suddenly not being sure if I want to finish any of them at all. I mean, at least two of them will be finished because they’re oneshots for an event and I’ve already done most of the work so I might as well, but the contrast with my motivation is huge.

I don’t want to leave this fandom. I still have things I (hypothetically) want to write. I have over 100,000 words of various unpublished Loki fanfics that I’ve been working on. I don’t want them to go to waste. I want to finish what I started. It’s not like the enthusiasm for the idea of the stories has gone, it’s just... I don’t know, the overarching disappointment and not having fun in a fandom space anymore? How strongly Loki is associated with me feeling bitter and miserable now? How the show and the experience outside of it is doing the opposite of inspiring me?

I don’t to be that person either. You know, the one who has an entire blog dedicated to moaning about something. The one who seems determined to interpret everything in the worst possible light, regardless of rationalism. The one who seems like they’d never be satisfied unless something was made 100% their way, and if it wasn’t then of course it’s Problematic and that’s why it’s Just Plain Bad, and it’s nothing to do with personal taste and a certain amount of projection. The one who starts getting positive reinforcement about hating something, so it becomes a habit and before they know it, it’s part of their daily routine, and they’re still regularly doing it years later. The one who goes on about how ‘if you’re a true fan of [x] and really understood [x], this would bother you’, or worse, starts making it personal with the real people involved in the creation of the show.

But the experience of not liking the show is a lonely one. There are other people who don’t agree on his characterisation either, I know. But when the vast majority of people who watch it seem not to find the changes in his entire character jarring? When people are going around saying that it’s not until now that the writers have finally understood Loki? When you get people acting like anyone who voices any criticism whatsoever is ridiculous and shouldn’t be in the fandom and behaves like they might catch the Taint of Negativity if they were to associate with them? When any criticisms are dismissed as ‘people who just want to hate the show’?

Believe me, I don’t want to hate the show. I’d love to be happy with the show. But I'm not. This Loki doesn’t feel like MCU Loki. The only time he did feel like himself to me was during the scene towards the end of Episode 1 where he was watching parts of his life on screen. That’s it. Over one and a half hours into the series so far, 1/3 of the entire show. Out of all that, only one scene.

And now every time I see people being happy about the show it makes me feel resentful. And, no, I’m not going to add anything negative to their posts or say anything to them. If the show is what it is and there’s no changing it then it’s better at least some people get to enjoy it rather than it bringing about universal misery. I don’t want to take away anyone else’s happiness. I just to feel happy too, but I don’t, and I’m painfully aware of it.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, I think I’m just venting. 

I don’t know what the solution is either. Space from fandom for a bit? I mean, I’ve been doing this a bit already recently (not full commitment, just more than usual), but I like being able to use tumblr as an escape. Unfollow people/leave Discord groups? But there are people who I’ve had plenty of positive interactions with, and I don’t want to lose those connections.

It’s really dumb, but I like my fandom corner. I like knowing that if I post a fic, there’ll be a certain small group of people who’ll probably read it, and a smaller chunk of those who’ll comment on it, even all these years later. And there are still so many stories I want to tell with Loki, so many things I haven’t done yet, but... 

Yeah, I don’t know if my motivation will come back or not (I’m leaning towards maybe not). Or how much the fandom will change as a result of the show. I’d expect a wave newcomers, but if a lot of new fics being written are largely based on the show characterisation (and if reader expectation of Loki’s characterisation lies with that too), then I have little to no interest in it.

Oh, and another thing to add to my list of things I don’t want to be: I don’t want to be that person who is all ‘I’ve been here longer and know better and am therefore more of a real fan than any of you new people’. So there’s that.

Ultimately, I think I’m eventually going to have to choose between staying and trying to squash/somehow extinguish any bitter feelings, or leaving. I don’t like either of those options very much. It might be premature of me to post this before the show has ended because my feelings might change, but, unsurprisingly, writing is a good way of processing feelings and I’ve been having a lot of them that need processing.

In case anyone’s actually read this obscene amount of rambling, I’m okay, I’m not, like, weeping over this as I write or anything. But it’s still not a great feeling to have a place that was once my favourite place for escapism and creativity to make me feel like I might not be welcome or like I might not want to be there. And it’s not like I can easily just switch over to another fandom to write for, because there are no other characters who have inspired me to write anywhere near much as Loki has. So, yes, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. All over a fictional TV show. I repeat: it’s dumb.