#this week he hasn’t washed a single dish and I’m not washing them for him bc no

[spacebell]

I do love my brother but I just don’t love living with him

[rad-batson]

Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)

Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.

Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.

Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.

Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.

Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)

Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?

For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”

Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.

They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.

After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.

At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.

Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)

Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.

Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.

During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?

He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.

Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?

Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)

Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!

*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.

The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?

Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already

[starlingsrps]

running up that hill.

it’s a thursday and manon hasn’t seen susanne yet. when she catches andre between deliveries, he shrugs and says he hasn’t either. adrien mutters something having other things to do and neither of them seem to understand. susanne is as regular and dependable as the sunrise. on tuesdays and thursdays on her way to the maternity clinic, susanne stops for a roll and to moan about how early it is. on saturdays when she stops in, she and manon go out for a walk and catch up on the week. save for the times she’s been ill (which manon can count on one hand), she does not miss a single day. 

but maybe this once, she’s running late.

they aren’t busy at all today, not even the usual morning and end of day rushes. when she steps outside for a break or for a cigarette, it feels strange. the streets aren’t empty but they’re quiet. it feels entirely too warm for july and she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

“did susanne come in at all?” she asks adrien when she comes in back inside. he’s in the office, frowning over a ledger. 

“it’s not my job to keep track of your friends, manon.” his tone is dismissive but when she doesn’t leave, he sighs and looks up at her. “what?”

“something isn’t right.” she scrapes her thumbnail at the office door frame. “you know susanne. she has her routines. tuesdays and thursdays-“

“not buying a roll doesn’t mean she’s vanished off the face of the earth. she’s probably ill or something.”

“she isn’t ill. i saw her tuesday and she was fine.”

“and it’s thursday now. maybe it was quick.”

“it wasn’t quick and she’s not ill.”

“or she’s at a-“ he gestures in a vague, abstract way that she thinks is supposed to indicate birth. she rolls her eyes. god knows adrien has seen enough blood and gore with the resistance but mentioning birth is apparently where he draws the line.

“she would tell me.”

“manon-“

“it’s strange out there today, isn’t it?” 

he blinks slowly at her and sighs gratefully at the sound of the bell. “we’ll talk about it later, manon.”

susanne doesn’t come in at all and by the time manon is flipping the front door sign to closed, she’s decided everyone is full of shit. she’ll go to susanne’s and find out if she’s okay for herself. if she’s ill, then she’ll get soup or make it herself, whatever she needs to do. she isn’t fully sure how to make proper soup but she’ll make it up as she goes if she must.

she meets adrien coming down the stairs and she’s coming up to get her purse and papers. “i’m going to check on her,” she says. “i’ll be back-“

he shakes his head. “you need to stay here. it’s not safe.”

“have you heard-“

“i need to see yves. stay here until i get back.” at her expression, he huffs. “please manon.”

his tone is final, the one she knows all too well. there will be no more arguments, at least none that she’s likely to win and manon prefers odds that favor her. still, she thinks about it but instead sucks her teeth and gives him her most poison look before stomping past him and up the stairs.

she tries to distract herself but it’s difficult with so much time left in the day. she tries to read for awhile and then tries to study when she starts to feel guilty for that. it’s the same as when she had homework as a child - paris is before her and full of things to do and see and she’s stuck inside. while washing the dinner dishes, she decides that if adrien isn’t back by nine, she’ll go anyway. she’ll find something to arm herself with and he’ll simply have to be mad at her later.

to her dismay, she dozes off on the sofa while waiting for the clock to turn and only wakes when the door opens and closes behind adrien. it takes a moment for her watch to come into focus but it’s suddenly well after midnight. she scrambles to sit up. “did-“

“she’s gone.” he says it bluntly before turning into their small kitchen. the words don’t quite register. they seem to echo, clanging around with the sound of clinking glass from the other room.

“gone?” she calls, waiting longer than she’d like for an answer. she follows him in.. “where, back to strasbourg?”

he hands her a tiny glass of brandy, one of the fussy little pinks ones from their grandmother’s collection of things that they never use. the entire bottle feels like it would be more appropriate right now. from the look on adrien’s face, she’ll need it. “drink that.” she does, warily watching him for the next words. “she’s been arrested.”

her first (fleeting, ridiculous) thought is that they can’t arrest susanne. susanne isn’t a bad person. and then she remembers that susanne is jewish but they still can’t just arrest her. susanne cried the day she had to register at the prefecture, susanne still turns bright red whenever adrien talks directly to her even though she insists that her crush on his is long over, susanne is apple cheeked and gentle with a talent for making people adore her. they can’t arrest susanne, manon almost says, she’s never done anything wrong in her entire life. 

except be born, apparently.

she has to rub her throat to try and start breathing again. “what happened?”

“there was a…roundup today. she and her uncle were arrested at dawn. we tried to find and hide who we could but-“

he shoots his own brandy and rubs his face. “they took the gonnets too early. i’m sorry.”

she will not hate adrien, no matter how desperately she wants to lash out at someone.

“where?”

“the vel d’hiv but- manon, no.” he grabs her shoulders and steers her back to the divan when she springs into motion for the door. “they won’t just let you in for a visit. they will arrest you and they will hurt you and you will never see any of us again.”

his arm stays around her shoulder in a way that feels both comforting and like him keeping her in place. she struggles a moment to get back up before remembering that her brother is a baker. even under the starvation rations, he’s stronger than she’ll ever be.

“i can’t leave her alone.” she’s babbling - the vel is a fifteen minute walk, give or take, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do when she gets there but she’ll decide on the way there. if she can just distract adrien, she can be there and find susanne and she’ll fix it.

“you have to let her go,” he murmurs, chin resting on top of her head. “i’m sorry, manon. we tried.”

she doesn’t cry anymore. flippantly, she always says that if she ever started, she’d never stop. every terrible thing she see and reads and hears is worse than the last so why even start? she knows that she was right because now she’s started and can’t stop crying. she soaks adrien’s shirt with three years worth of tears.

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

[space-mermaid-writing]

House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

~~

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

[cooliogirl101]

How would reborn get them together?

Oh, that's easy. He'd just tell Shamal that Nana wasn't actually married.

Nana looked up in the middle of washing the dishes, startled, as Shamal burst through the door, eyes wild and hair a mess. The last time Nana had seen him look this frantic...well actually, she'd never seen him look quite like this before. Not even that time he was chased by a flock of enraged geese. Magical, Flame-enhanced geese.

"Shamal, what--?" She began, more than a little alarmed.

"I have been in love with you since our second year of medical school," Shamal blurted out, coming to a stop right in front of her.

Nana dropped the pot she was holding.

"What?" She whispered. "But then, why--?"

Why did you never do anything about it? Why did you turn me down?

"Because I thought you were already taken," Shamal said fervently, answering her unfinished question. "I swear to you, Nana, that's the only reason why. Had I known, I would've--"

"You thought I was taken? By who?" She interrupted incredulously. Shamal winced and realization dawned. "Oh my god. You actually-- you thought I was married to Iemitsu?" She shook her head. "Shamal, we dated for like. Two weeks. I've never referred to him as my husband-- or even my boyfriend. How--?"

"Because I'm an idiot when it comes to you, okay? Have been since the first day I laid eyes on you and you pepper sprayed me in the face." Shamal swallowed, not quite able to meet her eyes. "I know that I-- that I should have clarified things a long time ago. God knows I had more than enough chances to ask questions, years of chances. The truth is, Nana, I didn't want to know. Didn't want to hear about some other guy getting to live the life I wanted with you. I was selfish, and I...I only wanted to know the part of you that was my friend and not someone else's wife." He closed his eyes. "As a result, I've hurt you. And for that, I am truly sorry."

There was a long pause.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition," she said finally.

"Anything," Shamal said instantly, opening his eyes again. "Name any condition you want, Nana, and I promise you I'll fulfill it."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You said that the reason you never acted on your feelings was because you didn't know I was single, right? That it was the only reason you never made a move," she said scowling, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Well now you know I'm single, so what are you waiting for? Make a move, dammit."

Shamal blinked. Then he threw his head back, letting out a delighted laugh.

"You really are something else, Nana Fujiwara," he said fondly, eyes crinkling up at the edges. He reached out to cup her face in both hands, leaning down to press his forehead against hers.

"I would very much like to kiss you now," he breathed out. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay," she replied, the words barely out of her mouth before Shamal leaned down to press his lips against her own.

~~

"You seem surprised, Reborn," Nana said as she began setting the table for dinner.

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to forgive him so quickly," Reborn replied.

Nana shrugged.

"Well sure, I could choose to be mad at him for a while longer, but I think we've wasted enough time already, don't you think?" She grabbed another chair to put at the table. "Didn't see much point in drawing things out."

"So that's where Tsuna gets it from," Reborn muttered under his breath.

"Hmm? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Nana said, turning to him.

"Nothing." Reborn ducked his head, fedora obscuring his face. "I'm glad you decided to give him a chance. It was getting painful, watching him."

Nana hummed, turning to look at him.

"I assume I have you to thank then, for clueing Shamal in to the fact that Iemitsu and I aren't actually married?" She asked with a smile. "You surprised me too, you know. I didn't think you liked me much."

"I said I found you difficult." Reborn's voice was impossible to read. "An opinion that hasn't changed."

"And yet you decided to help Shamal and I get together." Her eyes softened. "Thank you, Reborn. Really."

"Don't thank me. I did you a favor, that's it-- and I fully expect you to pay me back someday."

"Sure," Nana said cheerfully, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "Just as long as it's something I don't actually mind doing. You did this all on your own, after all, it's not something I asked you to do-- which means that I get veto power on all return favors you might ask for. And don't bother arguing, you're lucky that I'm agreeing to this at all."

Reborn huffed.

"Like I said," he muttered. He waited until Nana's back was turned before allowing a slight smile to form on his face. "Difficult."

[heesulovebot]

my tehoh post-ipytm head canons since nadia decided to choose violence and not give us a special episode (yes i'm still salty 😤 ). anyways i should be shot for this corny ass shit, truly:

tehoh move in together to a bigger apartment and really make it their own— teh doesn't really care about decor so oh is left to the task and we all know his taste is top notch.

except oh likes to re-decorate every few months because he's changed his mind on the placement of the sofa— teh is left to drag it across the condo only to be told to put it back where it was because oh's decided it's not the sofa that needs to move but the blinds that need to be changed.

(ofc teh grumbles through all of it, but the big kiss he gets on the forehead at the end makes it all worth it). 

there are weeks when teh doesn't come back from his schedule until early in the morning, only a few hours before oh has to wake up for work. sometimes, it's the only few hours they get together all week.

they don't even open their eyes, just reach for the other in the dark and wrap their arms tightly around each other.

they'll have half-asleep conversations too, losing all coherency as they drift farther and farther into a deep sleep— "how was work today?" "yeah, hokkien mee"

on the rare day off together, they'll hop in oh-aew's car and drive down to the nearest beach— top down, shades on, singing along embarrassingly loud to the radio, collapsing into a fit of giggles at every stop light.

ofc they hold hands on the gear shift.

teh has made it clear that he would like to keep his personal life private, but he still gets all shy when he's asked about oh-aew in interviews, a coy "no comment" before he's teased about his red-tinged ears. 

except teh is LOUD when he brings oh-aew to red carpet events— opening the door for oh, arm around his waist, making sure he's comfortable, dabbing away the other's sweat with his sleeve.

(teh is his PR team's worst nightmare, but luckily oh-aew is there to stop teh from posting so many pictures of him; teh's company should pay him for all the damage control he's done, really).

teh's the better cook between them so he usually makes dinner when they have a night-in.

they also play rock paper scissors to see who has to wash the dishes (which teh is absolutely terrible at, even when oh tries to let him win). 

oh-aew is practically teh's stylist since the poor man can't dress himself to save his life. fans of teh have threads on twitter showing when teh dresses himself vs. when his boyfriend does.

whenever they go on shopping dates, you can find fc posts of them holding hands, teh holding oh’s bags, hat and sunglasses on to keep things low key (but everyone knows it’s them).

sometimes oh visits teh on set and brings coffee for everyone. 

when he watches teh act, he’s always amused by the way teh can so easily slip into character— and just as easily, slip back into his teh the moment he looks at oh and flashes him a bright, impish grin, waving at him between takes. 

as much as they love each other, it’s not always easy. but they have come such a long way from their younger selves. they check-in with each other at least once a month, have a moment to talk about what they’re feeling— to step outside of each other and be objective about things. they find that after every check-in, they still want to be together. and so they are.

two years after they get back together, nosomi and hoon have their first child. teh cries more than the baby when he holds her in his arms, snot everywhere. oh-aew has never loved him more. 

shortly after, teh begins to propose to oh-aew every day. oh-aew never gives him a definitive answer, just calls him silly and pushes him away teasingly. “marry me?” he peppers the questions all over oh’s face with kisses, and oh-aew laughs.

teh begins leaving sticky notes proposing to oh-aew in every room of their apartment. when oh wakes up to brush his teeth and sees “marry me?” on the bathroom mirror. when he opens the fridge and there’s a bright pink sticky note on the milk carton: “please? :(”. when he goes to slip on his shoes and finds that teh has left a note in there, too: “you’re my sole-mate. 555″. oh-aew keeps every single one of them close to his heart.

they're sitting on the sofa a few years later and he hasn't said it in a while. teh asks again for old time's sake, nonchalantly— he's not even looking at oh-aew until oh responds with a casual “sure”. then he's hugging him and kissing him all over and they laugh so hard their stomachs nearly drop.

[hualianff]

How To Piss Off Your Boss

Chef HC AU

A few months ago, by some miracle, Hai Ye successfully earned a position at Crimson Embers–a lavish dining establishment serving an array of traditional dishes from different regions. It has outstanding reviews praising the exquisite interior, seasonally rotating menu, and delicious food.

It’s been HY's goal since entering culinary school to work in a kitchen with other professionals who have the same visions as him when it comes to cooking. After completing his studies and working in a small restaurant in his hometown for five years, HY finally gets to pursue his dream in the big city.

Crimson Embers opens at 3 p.m. and closes at 10 p.m. Only seven hours of business, and yet, it’s one of the most popular upscale restaurants in the region. Reservations line up months ahead of time; walk-ins are still encouraged too because of how spacious the establishment is. Those seven hours are one of the most stressful shifts HY has had the experience of working in. He’s very proud of the work he does, as a cook and as a collective whole with the kitchen too.

On a regular Monday, everyone arrives for their shift three hours ahead of opening to prepare the fresh ingredients, sauces, meats, drinks, etc. The sight of the CEO of Crimson Embers, Hua Cheng, cleaning the already spotless counters greets them when they arrive in the kitchens. Apparently, HC has decided to not only visit this particular branch for the week but also take on the head chef’s duties and monitor the workers himself. 

All the cooks rush to throw on their aprons, tie back their hair, and wash their hands. HY follows his colleagues, blood pounding in his ears as his nerves threaten to get the best of him. Everyone naturally forms a line in front of the longest counter to stand at attention as HC waits expectantly at the front of the kitchen. 

“Everyone, it’s been a while since my last visit. I see some familiar faces-“ HC’s eye flickers down the line, landing on HY, whose posture is as straight as a rod. “-and some new faces. Regardless, I welcome you guys to another day of hard work, teamwork, and top-notch cooking. Every single one of you is here for a reason. This team may be smaller than others, however, you guys are just as capable of serving the best foods in the country and ensuring excellent customer service.”

HC shrugs off his maple-red long coat to reveal a chef’s shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. HY spots a hint of tattoos peeking underneath the sleeves, intrigued. HC doesn’t exactly portray the image of a CEO in the restaurant industry. He’s relatively young, long hair swept back into a braid, inked up, and with an eyepatch to top the look. HY has nothing but admiration for him.

“Let’s do a great job today. Let’s do our best,” HC says resolutely. He slams his palm down onto the counter with a loud thud! “Begin.”

“Understood!” Every cook shouts in unison, then scrambles to their stations to rapidly food prep for the night shift.

The hours leading up to the restaurant’s opening are a bit maddening. Everyone is on their best behavior, zoned in on their work under their CEO’s watchful gaze. As soon as customers start filtering in, the impending shitshow is set to begin. All the employees have arrived, including the servers who zip in and out of the kitchen doors like a hoard of worker bees. 

HC is very firm and direct with his orders. His voice, though not the loudest, holds the most power, which he wields as an experienced leader to run things smoothly. Unfortunately, when it gets extremely busy during the night, the head server requests HY to leave the kitchen to seat people because the other servers are busy, and HY has almost a decade of serving knowledge under his belt.

When HY walks to the entrance, there’s a man at the front of the line, dressed in plain black jeans and a white, long-sleeved turtleneck. His long hair is neatly tied back into a low ponytail, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His outfit is simple in style, but he pulls it off exquisitely. HY swallows nervously before asking if the man has a reservation.

“No, I don’t. Though I was hoping I could get a table for two?” The stranger asks with kind eyes. The glasses don’t do anything to obscure how vibrant they shine in the bold lighting of the restaurant. 

“O-of course. Right away, sir,” HY replies. The man in white smiles warmly and HY’s heart skips a beat. He gestures for the stranger to follow him, leading the guest to a quiet corner near the window. Luckily, since it’s only the man and whoever he’s dining with tonight, a small table was readily available. 

“Can I get you started with anything to drink?” HY politely asks. The handsome man quickly looks over the drinks menu. The strands of hair too short to be contained by the hairband fall to frame the man’s face. He quickly tucks them behind his ear, then points to one of the cheapest options. 

“I think the Makgeolli will do. It’s my partner’s favorite,” the man orders. HY enthusiastically nods. 

“I’ll have that out right away, sir.”

“By the way, is the owner free? Hua Cheng?” The man inquires. He crosses his legs in an elegant display that shows off their muscles and length, straining against the jeans’ fabric. HY tries not to stare as the man’s glasses slide down his nose a bit, to which he pushes them back up with a flick of his slender fingers.

“Hua Cheng is here, yes. But he's very busy,” HY informs apologetically. “I’m not sure he has time at the moment.”

The man tilts his head, looking slightly puzzled. For a brief second, he looks as if he’s analyzing HY’s appearance. After an understanding nod, the man relents his question.

“No worries. Thank you for seating me,” the man says, maintaining his mellow tone. HY bends at his waist in a half-bow, then heads back into the kitchens. He has to go back to his station to add the finishing seasonings on the meats–not before informing a server of a guest who requires Makgeolli.

“A full bottle,” HY adds. Just to be generous. No one thinks anything of it.

Ten minutes pass as the kitchen is bustling with bodies moving in all directions and the chopping of knives on cutting boards. That is, until the head server bursts through the doors with an ultra-panicked expression on her face.

“Why did nobody tell me Xie-xiansheng is here!?”

The chaos in the kitchen comes to a dead stop: mid-slice, mid-fry, mid-mix, mid-squeeze. Everyone stares blankly at the head server, who waves her arms towards the dining area with wild eyes.

“Xie-xiansheng is out there right now, sitting ALONE, and just ordered the special meal he and Hua Lao Ban always share,” she frantically rushes out. This snaps several workers out of their shock. 

“Oh shit-“

“Xie-xiansheng has been here the entire time and we didn’t know-!?”

“Someone get Hua Lao Ban-“

“NO! Don’t get him yet, otherwise he’ll skin our asses alive!”

“Fuck, put the special at the top of the list- go go GO!”

HY’s mind spins with the casual conversations he overheard about HC’s partner. He doesn't know much besides how many find HC’s husband to be exceptionally kind and beautiful. HY hasn’t even had the chance to look at a picture of XL, much less meet him since HY has started working at Crimson Embers.

Wait a damn minute.

Was that man he seated…HC’s husband?

HY feels like throwing up upon realizing he had unknowingly signed his death wish. 

“Why the hell is no one working? Do you not see the crowd of guests out there waiting for their food?” An authoritative voice barks, entering from the back of the kitchen, holding up three plates of exquisite, garnished roasted duck. HC walks through the kitchen with his shoulders set back in confidence, his tall height bearing over the other cooks. “Everyone, get back to work! NOW!”

Before anyone can stop him, HC exits through the kitchen doors to the dining lobby, serving the dishes to the guests himself. The employees look at each other with fearful expressions. Their hearts have nearly stopped beating in their chests, HY’s heart skipping a beat for a whole other reason now. 

They are so screwed.

《II》

[taechaos]

I was thinking how would a day in the Family of the Jeons looking like? Could you make a drabble of it? Of course only if you want to :)

OOOOO OK OK OK I LOVE THAT

Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile throughout the whole day. You tried comforting him before his ride back home for the majority of the spring break, but nothing can save his depression from being around his mother. There isn't one good memory that involves her presence in his life.

He was willing to stay in his dorm throughout the whole three weeks of vacation, but tough luck, there was a cockroach infestation a day prior to his holiday. Only his dorm. Fate has different plans for him, and he's not religious or anything, but Satan might just be lurking around him.

Your house isn't available because of your strict mother, his friends are leaving town and staying with Taehyung is arguably worse than temporarily living with his mother. At least he doesn't have to share a room with her.

The scowl on his face only deepens when he comes face to face with his first home. It's like ripping off a bandaid when he opens the door, unlocked as usual, before entering.

The living room greets him with crickets. Utter silence and empty with no one around. The walls are chipped, the couch is washed out and the hardwood flooring has scratches on them. He enters and makes the effort to not make a sound as to not summon his mother, but like clockwork, the moment he steps foot inside, she appears from the kitchen.

"Jungkook!" she gushes and tackles him into a bone crushing hug. Her eye makeup is smudged and her outfit is merely a black nightgown.

He knows her excitement will wear off soon enough; they're bound to argue in a matter of minutes about his "disrespectful behavior." She's unpredictable in that regard, but it's clear that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

He groans and yanks her arms away. His greeting is merely a question, "Is anyone else here?" He knows his mother like the back of his hand: incapable of being alone and constantly searching for her next soulmate. The only serious relationship he's had was with his father, who is basically missing.

"Only my boyfriend and his daughter." She leaves room for him to take off his shoes and throw his bag full of necessities on the floor. "She's really pretty by the way," she whispers.

"Not interested."

"Oh come on, you haven't even met her–"

"Babe?" A stranger with a gruff voice steps out of the master bedroom while fixing his bed hair. It's 2 PM and he looks like he just woke up.

"Good morning sweetie," his mother brightly grins at the man before introducing her son. "This is Jungkook, my boy I was telling you about. Kook, this is Jinyoung." She leans into him threateningly, "Be nice."

"How fucking old is he?" he whispers back, perplexed.

"Thirty-seven."

"Are you serious?" he groans and stands straight before picking up his bag. "Good luck," he plainly greets the man before walking off to his bedroom.

Upon opening the door, a young girl sitting on his bed with music blasting from her earphones enters his sight. She squeals when she looks up to see the intruder and yanks the buds out in panic.

"What the fuck? Mom!" he whirls around to find her in the kitchen again. "Why is there someone in my room?"

She doesn't look up from the stove where she's practically burning scrambled eggs and her calm tone contrasts his angry one. "That's Yeri, the girl I was telling you ab–"

"I don't give a fuck, why is she in my room?!" The chaos is already making his head hurt.

"She's been staying there for a while now."

Jungkook slaps a hand on his forehead and inhales until his lungs hurt. He stomps back to his room with a death glare. The girl hasn't moved an inch out of surprise and the music continues to come out of the earphones. "Get out. You're taking the couch."

"A-Are you Jungk–"

"Out."

She shoots out of the bed and scurries to the living room with a fearful expression. He sighs and kicks a stray bra lying on the floor out of his way before dropping his bag with a thud.

This sucks. He considers running off to Taehyung in a moment of desperation, but he hasn't reached the level to go through with it yet.

He starts unpacking and ignores his mother's announcement of breakfast. He collapses on his bed with a grunt and massages his temples, but even one second of peace is not an option in this household when his mother barges in to repeat her announcement.

"I'm not hungry," he spits.

"At least sit with me. I've missed you so much–"

"I'm tired."

"Stop being a brat and come."

She leaves no room for argument when she slams the door shut. "You're so annoying!" he shouts past the thin walls before smacking his head at how childish he sounds. Is this Hell?

He shoots you a quick message before trudging to the dining room.

♡ the love of my life ♡: kill me

He slumps down on the only idle chair next to Yeri and leans back without even glancing at the dish. He lost his appetite the second he came here.

No one's touched their food yet, presumably from waiting on Jungkook, and just as Jinyoung picks up the utensils, his daughter nervously chimes in, "Let's say grace!"

The couple is surprised by her words. "You're the one who always whines about it," her father states quizzically.

His mother scoffs playfully. "She wants to hold Jungkook's hand, sweetie," she nudges her boyfriend with her elbow.

Yeri blushes and looks down at her lap as Jungkook mutters exasperatedly, "Jesus fucking Christ..."

He crosses his arms when she meekly holds out a hand to him and her father, and his mother frowns upon the action.

"Jungkook," she drawls.

"I'm not fucking Christian!"

"Just hold her hand!"

"I don't want to!"

"When a girl is interested in you, you're expected to respond accordingly."

The other family in the table stare at them in bewilderment, thrown off by their bickering.

"Yeah, I'm responding with rejection."

"Get over this I-hate-girls phase already, you're twenty years old!"

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Oh please," she dismisses him with a flick of her wrist, "I'd love to meet her in your dreams."

"She's real," he growls with a snarl, "and she's certainly not a kid." He gives Yeri a pointed look.

"I'm seventeen!" Her father clears his throat uncomfortably.

A notification from his phone disrupts the conversation, and he checks it to escape this mentally draining interaction.

You: oh baby what's wrong:((

♡ the love of my life ♡: mom is breathing

"Who is it?"

He scoffs at his mother without looking up from the screen, "My girlfriend."

Yeri whines with a pout as his mother jumps from her seat to take a peek.

"What the hell are–"

She smacks the back of his head after reading his last text in a millisecond. "Mom is breathing? You brat! Who is this girl? Show me a picture," she gushes excitedly, completely forgetting her earlier attempt at matchmaking.

"None of your damn business," he hisses before he gets another notification. Him and his mother immediately look down at his phone.

You: i'm trying to make the best of staying with my mom >_< you should try as well!

♡ the love of my life ♡: with this woman?|

She coos as she snatches the phone out of his hand. "Hey!"

"She sounds so nice! Take her advice, you imbecile–"

"I'd rather die," he deadpans as he tries not to hurt her while reaching for his phone.

"Listen to me," she uses her authorative tone that has Jungkook pulling back with a frown. Old habits die hard, such as rebelling against his mother before she becomes genuinely intimidating. "You're stuck with me for a month. Don't make me turn this house into a living hell."

He resists the urge to say it already is.

————

Smoke swirls in the open air from the lit joint that hangs off Jungkook's lips. Finally, some peace and quiet in the balcony. He came prepared with a stash of cannabis for when things get too overwhelming in the house, and it's only the first day.

The sky is bland with no stars or clouds, a boring view of midnight black from the balcony where he leans against the railing. He enjoys watching the busy street instead, and he feels less shitty about his current living situation.

And yet his newfound happy daze fades too soon when the joint is snatched from his fingers. "Give it ba-" he pauses when he sees his mother taking a puff from his stick. He looks away lazily.

"Don't worry," she blows out the smoke, "I'm not here to scold you for smoking weed."

"I don't care."

"You're old enough anyway." She follows his line of sight and takes another drag. It's quiet for a minute until she asks, "You met her in college?"

"Yep."

"Truth be told, I can't imagine you asking out a girl when you're so spiteful. How did it happen?"

He can't believe he's having this conversation, or why he's responding without being so snarky. He chuckles instead. "I didn't really ask her out. She made a deal with me where she does my homework and I pretend to like her back or whatever."

She laughs quietly. "You used her feelings for you to your advantage? You take after your mother," she jokes.

"She offered," he shrugs with a smile, " and I was struggling with my courses. I chose law as my major when I was mad at you so I could sue you or something, but it's so fucking boring."

"Oh, how much you love your mother," she huffs with a giggle. "I deserved that. Being a single mother didn't exactly work out for me."

"You were no mother," he scoffs, "all you did was ignore me or insult me when you weren't introducing me to my next step-dad. Did you know that this is my first relationship?" he glances at her with a bitter lopsided grin. She turns to look back at him and passes the joint. He inhales the filter before continuing with a mouthful of smoke, "I didn't want to date anyone because I didn't want to turn out like you. I didn't want to have relationships that only last a week before moving onto another one. I can be alone."

"Let me guess, you didn't believe in love either," she mocks in a silly deep voice.

"Fuck off."

She sighs as a peaceful silence settles over them aside from the running engines. The truth hurt.

"Tell you what, son. You turned out a lot better than I did. My parents didn't exactly raise me either, only left me with more issues than I can bear." Jungkook listens intently without reacting. This is the only normal conversation he's ever had with his mother. "I have practically no redeeming qualities, and having sex is the only way I can pass the time."

He groans. "I did not have to know that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to tell you about the birds and the bees first?"

"I get it, you're a prostitute with no salary."

She whacks his head before bursting out in laughter. He suppresses his own laugh and merely chuckles through his nose.

"You would've been a better mother if you were high all the time."

"Nah," she shakes her head, "I just needed to be more present throughout your childhood. It's too late for me now." She shrugs as her lips fall into a hard line. Jungkook's smile falters and he doesn't say anything.

When she feels tears welling up in her eyes, she blinks repeatedly and lets go off the railing. "Good night, Kook. I'll see you in the morning."

He nods at her and watches her leave. Beats staying with Taehyung.

"Night," he murmurs to himself before putting out his joint and entering the living room. All the lights are out, but he's still familiar with the layout of the place.

When he passes the couch, he flinches at the sound of Yeri's voice. "G-Good night–"

"Shut up."

Before jumping on his bed, he checks his phone to see if you've sent any texts.

You: good night and sleep well baby!! i love you sm <33

♡ the love of my life ♡: gn and ilym

♡ the love of my life ♡: lets meet up tmr

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

It’s my birthday can I request headcanons or something with Erwin Smith surprising you with a cake he made?

It's your birthday and you came to me??? Im so honoured!!!💛💛 happy birthday btw! The world is so lucky to have you in it, i hope you have an amazing day and a lovely year💛💛

And of course you can🥰 anything for the birthday royalty!

Erwin celebrates your birthday by baking a cake

{ Erwin x reader | tw: none | romance, the cheesy kind | modern }

{ “For Saint Dorothea's Day" 1899 by Herbert James Draper 1863–1920 }

Now, Erwin is a romantic person at heart, someone like him would get the nightsky stars if his loved one asked for them. So he waits in anticipation for any excuse to drown you in his love, and a birthday is a perfect occasion to go the whole nine yards. He'd be planning for that day weeks in advance.

He'd even take the day off, something he so rarely does since he rivals Levi in his workaholism.

But for you? He's absolutely smitten.

Breakfast in bed, no negotiation about it. He'd wake up really early and sneak out of bed to prepare to you whatever your heart desires, he'd cut you fresh fruit and pour you your favourite drink. He'd make you some chocolate treats to eat, making some of them heart shaped with a smile on his face.

If you let him, he'd feed them to you by hand. Maybe even giving you a kiss after each delicious bite.

You're going to be so pamper and treated like loyalty you wouldn't know how to go back to daily life after that day.

How do you feel about a warm bubble bath with scented water in the morning? Because he's carrying you there, no matter what size have you seen this greek god built man?

Gently massages your shoulders and sore muscles while in there, while whispering honey like compliments in your ear.

It's just the start of the day and he already has you wrapped around his finger.

As much as he'd like to hog you for the rest of the day, he wants you to go and enjoy yourself with the people you love.

Maybe it's your family, maybe it's your friends or maybe it's your pets. Doesn't matter because even if you're not sure who to spend it with, Hange, Miche and Nanaba will be more than happy to take you out.

Levi will actually tag along too, he just doesn't wanna admit to it.

They will spoil you, whatever you want, wherever you want to go. Miche knows the best restaurants around here, Hange knows the best views and Nanaba will take you to the underrated shops she's friends with the owners of.

And whatever you chose, Levi will follow. He is there to protect you and make sure no creeps even think about ruining this day for you and not just because of Erwin's request, he genuinely cares about you and respects you. He sees how much better you changed his dear friend's life and how much happiness you gave him, he thinks you're a good person.

If you want to thank him, ask Miche to take you to his favourite teashop. He won't show a smile but his eyebrows will soften when you arrive there.

Meanwhile, Erwin would be just finished decorating the house. He wanted to do every single thing himself so it'd feel even more personal. Not to mention he really enjoyed it, hanging the fairy lights and tying the heart shaped ballons.

It's when he's finished sorting the flowers around the dinner table that he heads to the kitchen.

Now Erwin whilst a romantic, he's still rational and knows just how far his abilities can stretch, baking is not one of his strong suits. And yet he still wants to make you a cake himself, for you to eat something he made on your birthday.

That's how he ends up with three boxes of cake mix, after that making the cake simply required putting the right amount of ingredients, which to him is as easy as...a piece of cake.

Thankfully he doesn't burn it in the oven, and it actually tastes decent enough. After that he follows some youtube tutorial on how to cut it and add fruits and other things inside, then comes the icing and cream.

He tries his best, yes the red cream melted a bit with the white icing smudging it, yes the heart he drew is a little crocked at the side, yes he added too much sprinkles. But he is proud of his hard work.

It's Levi who texts him after he puts the cake in the fridge, telling him they're heading home right now.

Perfect timing isn't it. Did Erwin really calculate how much time his friends can distract you and timed it perfectly with how much time it'd take him to decorate and bake a cake?

Or is it just pure luck? You'll never know.

He welcomes you with a kiss, despite Hange and Miche teasing him about it. It only spurs him to show you more affection.

You all sit in the living room, share some drinks while chatting. The atmosphere is calm and you get to hear a lot of embarrassing stories. Half-way through the talk, Moblit finally arrives to join the rest.

He apologises for being late, apparently he was in charge of keeping the gifts and wrapping them. He sets the bag aside and takes a wine glass from Hange before finishing it himself.

After some hours, Erwin and Nanaba go get the plates, they insist you sit since it's your birthday. Levi clears some space on the table for the cake while Moblit turns off the light after lighting all the candles.

Miche and Hange keep you compay, they keep telling you jokes and stories that your stomach hurts from laughing so much.

Under Erwin's order, everyone has to join in singing a happy birthday no matter how bad of a singer they are, yes Levi even you.

You blow the candles, they cut the cake, Erwin feeds you a piece of his with the fork.

At night time, after you've all eaten, drank some tea that Levi made after the cake, talked and laughed. One by one they excuse themselves to leave.

It's Moblit who has to go first, still needing to finish some paperwork. He also drags Hange with him and they say they still haven't told you the rest of Erwin's embarrassing stories.

After them it's Miche, having drank too much Nanaba has to drive him home safely. She wishes you a happy birthday one last time before somehow handling the taller man to the car outside.

Lastly it's Levi, he just finished washing the dishes you just ate in, what? They were bothering him. And no it's your birthday of course you're not washing any dishes.

Just when he was putting his coat on, he tells Erwin to lean down before whispering something in his ear. It earns him a chuckle before he says "I'm serious." Then leaves.

Looking at Erwin curiously, you don't have to ask what he said because he looks at you back before saying. "He told me not to fuck up this and lose you, otherwise he's coming for my neck."

So far, this is the sweetest compliment Levi has ever said to you in all the years you've been with Erwin. You can't help but feel touched.

That night, before going to bed, Erwin tells you there's still one last thing he hasn't done yet.

He tells you to close your eyes, you do. Then you hear some shuffling followed by a slightly cold thing being draped around your neck. Guiding you to a mirror, he only tells you to open them after wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder.

"Do you like it?" He whispers to you, looking at your eyes in the mirror as he kisses your skin. Fingers trailing up your waist slowly, till they reach the necklace around your neck.

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[mooni-bunni]

Aot Characters If I invited them to a cookout

Cw: None

Characters: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Connie Springer, Sasha Braus.

A/N: This is just a silly little thing I wrote. It’s literally to make people laugh. Part two here!

Eren:

Super awkward. You’d think he’d be social but he has no clue what to talk about with anyone. He literally stands in the corner the entire time.

Only gets food if I go with him. Probably asks if I can make him a plate ngl. He’s very picky too and only gets the macaroni and ribs.

I think he’s definitely loved by the women. He’s awkward but he’s hot and definitely gets questions about his love life. Never knows how to respond but he still tries his best to be polite.

He also gets bombarded by the kids for no reason. He likes it, he’s surprisingly really good with them.

He’ll probably end up spending the whole cookout at the kids table.

Mikasa

Babes is super respectful and helpful.

She walked in with a gift for the party host. It was probably something floral or even a nice little house decoration.

As soon as anyone says they need help with something, she is the first person to get up and go do it.

All the older people ADORE Mikasa. They ask her so many questions about her family and where she’s from. They think she is just down right adorable

She stays after everyone’s left to wash dishes, throw things away, clean the house. She refuses to leave until everything is cleaned up.

Armin

Biggest sweetheart there is, he brought some food, silverware, cups, plates, extra soda.

He came an hour early to help set everything up. This was planned like a week in advance. He literally called ahead to ask if it was okay if he helped set things up.

He interacts with the host of the house and is loved by every single person. He is just helpful and polite the entire time.

He does try to dance and it- someone stop him. PLEASE STOP HIM.

He also eats everything. Especially if it’s something he hasn’t tried.

Jean

BIG BOY JEAN COMES TO THE PARTY LOOKING FINE AS HELL.

If he isn’t the talk of the whole party, he didn’t go. Man, everyone is eying him up and down. He is such candy.

You’d think he’d be really flirtatious snd that’s why he’s getting so much attention, but it’s actually because he’s on the grill.

Jean can cook and everyone agreed to invite him because of this fact.

Spends the whole cookout either by the grill helping out, or drinking outside with the guys.

I also think Jean can play a mean black Jack game. He’s good at it.

Connie

Funniest guy to arrive at the entire cookout, everyone who’s met him is immediately laughing their ass off.

As soon as he walks in, he’s cracking jokes.

He is comfortable with everybody that showed up to the function. Even if he’s never met them, he’s making himself at home.

Best story teller. The guys immediately crack open a cold one and listen to him be outrageous.

He also dances but he has some rhythm so it’s okay. The music is always his vibe.

He- he probably gets a little too drunk and passes out, I’m not gonna lie.

Sasha

HIDE THE FOOD OH MY GOD.

Literally as soon as she shows up, she gravitates straight for the spread. She’s taking one of everything.

Whoever cooked is getting a kiss from her. A big smooch. If the food is bussin, it’s all gone.

She’s clearing about three abs a half plates before someone has to tell her to stop.

And even still, she’s asking if she can take a plate home with her.

In fact, if there are any leftovers, you might as well just hand it over to her. She’ll end up stealing it.

[shoukohime]

jujutsu kaisen headcanons because I'm soft and they live in my head rent free

- gojou and yuuji's favourite past time activity is learning tiktok dances. nobara joins in. megumi suffers.

- getou (who is alive and well and not a villain) walks in on gojou reading bedtime stories to the first years. "how did you end up being a single dad to three teenagers?" he asks

- gojou, who's not single in this scenario: "wouldn't that make you their 2nd dad?😙"

- yuuji, megumi and nobara retching in the background because ew our parents are flirting??

- nanami retires at 27 and builds a house in malaysia, kuantan, on a secluded beach to catch up with all the books he's bought but never got around to read 🥰

- yuuji exclusively listens to female pop artists. He knows all Nicki Minaj songs by heart and when kesha had her comeback with praying he couldn't stop crying for 2 hours straight

- kugisaki once challenged him to a superbass rap battle and never recovered

- when asked about his current concerns, megumi vaguely points to yuuji singing WAP all day

- don't leave maki unsupervised. "yuuta is overseas so while he's gone I'm gonna collect all buttons I can find in this house and store them in a box" "wtf why" "he's basically 85% of my impulse control"

- cue next day everyone waking up to the buttons on their school uniforms being torn off and missing

- while the 2nd years are pros at inumaki-language, the 1st years are still trying to decode his words. so far, they know "salmon" means "yes" and "avocado cream cheese" means "stfu you dumb ass bitch"

- none of the 1st years are fully functional human beings. imagine broke college students but worse. they're unsupervised high schoolers. megumi has lived with gojo half of his life. nobara never helped with the chores at home. yuuji is a domestic wreck. The dishes pile in the kitchen, the bathroom hasn't been cleaned in 3 weeks, you literally can't step into a room without sth breaking under your foot, Obama is there

- gojo: I raised you better than this wtf

- megumi figures out a way to manipulate the others into doing basic chores for him. "kugisaki, have you done the maths homework already?" "shut up and do them yourself" "I'll let you cuddle with my shadow dogs later" "maths homework coming right up!"

- yuuji: "hey man it's your turn to wash the dishes" "I can summon the bunnies for you" "oh wait, it's my turn to do the dishes"

- since inumaki can't speak much, he's a pro at texting and a closet memer. when maki rages over inumaki spamming the group chat, he simply sends "mum pick me up i'm scared"

- mai and todo fight over who gets to marry taka-chan later. mai wins.

- shoko is the teacher to go to when you want to talk, have concerns or need life advice because gojo will simply laugh in your face over your mortal, little problems. "cramps? I'll get you pain meds and make you hot cocoa real quick", "you think you might be bisexual? that's great. thank you for telling me." & "please do not cut off your shirt sleeves, yuta won't be overseas for much longer"

[horrorslashergirl]

Samuel Grayson x reader where the reader is a soft-spoken, gentle and loving single mom with either a baby or a toddler who moves into Samuel's old apartment while running from an abusive ex? thank you so much!

Samuel Grayson x Reader- New Owner

Warnings: 18+ for abusive themes, gore and death

Words: 2.4k

If only things would have been different, but life doesn't let you know what will happen, because if you knew you would have never gotten into this relationship in the first place. To say the divorce went fine was a big lie, especially since you took full custody of your child.

Your now ex-husband couldn't afford to take care of your son; he was unemployed, plus he was charged with middle violence, not to mention the scandal he caused at the court, so the judge took the best decision.

Moving away from the small town and far away into San Fransisco was a big change not only for you but for your son too, but the good part was that despite being a six-year-old, he could understand the necessity of moving away.

'As long as I am with you, mom, I'm good.' Will told you when you packed the things you need to move.

Now you were at the lobby of the building you were gonna live in, waiting for the administrator to come and hand you the keys to the apartment. It was the cheapest you could find and also not one of these cramped shoe-box-like apartments in dangerous neighbors.

It was actually a pretty big one; a living room with a big kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a dressing-room. At first, you were skeptical of the price, not to mention the building was in central San Fransisco, so it was like winning the Jackpot.

The team of guys started to move the boxes to the apartment, taking the elevator and you saw a man dressed in a grey suit with a red tie, his brown hair slicked back. He noticed you and your son and smiled, walking towards you two.

"Mrs. [Exhusband surname]?" he asked and you frowned at the surname of your ex-husband, a bitter feeling in your throat.

"Not anymore. Just call me [Name]." you replied and the man gave you a sympathetic smile.

"I understand and I am deeply sorry. I am the manager of this building, Mr. Wilson, but feel free to call me Henry." he introduced himself, extending his hand for you to shake.

You gave him an assuring smile and explained that there is nothing to think about the past anymore, that you were looking forward to a neat future and to raise your son peacefully.

"I am sure you will love this apartment. It hasn't really been used that much." Henry spoke as you rid the elevator.

"How so?" you asked, getting curious.

"Oh, you know, most people now are looking for houses on the outskirts of the city. More quiet and away from the chaotic big city lifestyle." He told you, the ding of the elevator announcing your arrival on the floor.

Walking with Will behind Henry down the hallway, you noticed how everything was so quiet, save for an old lady that was wetting her plants by the door. She looked up at you and a terrified look crossed her face as you stopped in front of the door to your apartment.

"What's with the neighbor?" you asked in a quiet whisper, making Henry look at the old woman and you noticed a dark stare into his eyes like he was silently telling her to mind her own business.

"Oh! Dorota is 80 years old and she has been alone for 10 years since her husband died of old age. Don't mind her, she has a habit of starring." Henry explained and ushered you and your son inside, your eyes widening at the scenario.

It was indeed very spacious and modern, not overly filled with furniture, but enough to make it look cozy. The moving crew set the last box on the floor close to the couch, then nodded at you and Henry that they were done.

"So? What do you think? I know pictures aren't that relevant and things aren't the same in reality." Henry began to apologize, but you waved it off.

"No, no! It looks better than I thought and it's very large and I am sure Will is delighted to finally have his own bedroom." you explained and Will's eyes sparkled with joy at the information of having his intimacy.

Henry rubbed his hands together, a big smile on his face, seeing that you and your son were approving of the apartment.

"Sweet! So, it's all settled then?" he asked with a hopeful look into his eyes, and you nodded with a chuckle, seeing Will run through the apartment, gazing at every little detail with curiosity, getting aquatinted with your and his new home.

"That's delightful to hear! I will come back tomorrow so you can sign the contracts and all that paperwork." he explained, walking towards the exit door of the apartment, followed by you close behind.

He turned back towards you, handing you the keys to the apartment with a smile.

"This is now yours... with everything that is inside. Enjoy." he simply said then walked down the hallway of the floor to the elevator, getting inside, the metal doors closing.

After the man disappeared, you moved back inside the apartment, seeing Will gazing out the big full-length wall windows at the city below with excitement.

"Look, Momma! The view is so pretty!" he said with enthusiasm, making you smile and nod, looking at the city with him, happy that you finally started anew after a long time of toxicity, the thoughts of your ex-husband making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt at creating a little protection.

The feeling of someone tugging at the edge of your shirt pulled you out of your thoughts, looking down at Will with a questionable look.

"I'm hungry." he simply stated, and now that he said it, you were pretty hungry yourself. All you have eaten today were some croissants and a cup of coffee.

Nodding, you grasped his hand gently into yours, walking with him to the kitchen, setting him up on the kitchen counter, grateful that you delivered the groceries yesterday here.

"What would you like? Maybe some bacon, sausages, and scrambled eggs?" you asked your son who happily nodded, watching as you started to cook, not before turning the radio on for some music to play into the background.

Everything seemed so perfect, a new home, a new job, you and your son, away from your abusive ex. Everything seemed to fall right into their respective places.

After the food was ready, you served it on two full plates, eating with your son at the table, just listened to music, and having a peaceful earlier dinner. After washing the dishes, you told Will that you will be fondling the clothes and setting them into the closets. Your son nodded, telling you that he will be playing in his room.

While you were arranging your clothes, Will was playing with a remote car in the apartment, running after the toy as he controlled it with the remote in his small hands.

His brows furrowed as the toy car moved out of the apartment on its own; the front door wide open, which was suspicious seeing how you locked it, but the child was more concerned about his precious plaything.

Will was running after the car down the hallways of the last floor, not really paying attention to where he was going until he turned a corner and his gaze fell on a dog at the other end of the hallway. It was a Doberman, gazing back at him, tilting its head to the side, the car stopping at its black paws.

The little boy was ready to take a step forward, when a hand touched his shoulder, making him jump in surprise, turning himself around, and seeing you with a concerned look on your face.

"Sweety... If you want to play outside the apartment, at last, tell me. Don't run off like that." you said, crouching down in front of him, inspecting your son for injuries or bruises, a habit that was born because of your ex-husband.

"Sorry, Mom... I was playing with the car and the dog-" he didn't finish his sentence, because when he pointed to where the canine was, there was no dog at the other end of the hallway.

You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"If you want a dog, you should have asked...Now that he is no more we can... I mean...." you stumbled over your words, remembering how Will asked one day his father for a dog and your ex just simply slapped his cheek, telling him a straight-up no without so much of an explanation.

Will hugged your legs tightly, gazing up into your eyes with a sad look, knowing what you were thinking.

"Don't be sad.... You know I don't like it when you cry." he whispered and you kissed his forehead, giving him an assuring smile.

"It's alright... Let's just go back. We can watch a movie tonight... Anything you want." you said, turning with him down the hallway and seeing the old lady that you encountered when Henry was presenting you the building.

She gazed at you two with suspicion and a morbid look, her wrinkly, skinny hands trembling. Instinctively, you pulled Will closer to you, the motherly protectiveness coming out.

"It's you... You are staying there.... His place.... He comes.... He is after you." she said in a scratchy raspy voice, making Will hide behind your legs.

Gulping down, you quickly scooped your son into your arms, walking away fast from the old lady, who began to laugh, a sound that made a shiver run down your spine, feeling sick from her words. Running, you quickly entered your apartment with your son into your arms, slamming the door behind you and locking it.

"Momma... What did she mean?" Will asked, his smaller hands clenching your shirt into tiny fists.

"N-Nothing... Don't worry... I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise." you whispered into his hair, kissing the top of his head, hugging him tightly to your chest, not aware of a pair of golden eyes watching from the dark corners of the apartment.

So far things have been going fine for the following weeks; your working schedule was perfectly put with Will's school program, you left him at school before going to work and picking him up after the working programs, plus it was a bonus you could work extra hours at home.

Will kept telling you about the dog that he kept seeing along the hallways of the building, and you told him that it probably belonged to one of the neighbors.

Now it was weekend which meant you were free; you were currently making some dinner while Will was watching cartoons in the living room, then the doorbell rang, and before you could go and check it yourself, Will beat you to it, only for your eyes to widen when you saw your ex-husband into the doorway, Will obviously taken aback, running to hide behind your legs, the cold stare of the man making your hands tremble at your sides.

"Took me some time to find you. You thought you could get away from me with my son?" he asked, voice gruff and making shivers of disgust run down your spine, although you tried to put on a brave facade, being the overprotective mother.

"We have a restraining order." you told him firmly, wanting for this fiasco to be over, but your ex merely laughed, like you just told him a joke.

"Ya think a piece of paper is gonna keep me away?" he asked, starting to walk towards you.

You quickly told Will to run into his bedroom and lock the door, which the boy was anxious to do, mostly to leave you here with this monster that was supposed to be his father, only the little boy no longer viewed him as such.

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes and stopping in front of you, glaring daggers into your forehead.

"You know... You are starting to piss me off." he grumbled, spitting on your shoes, something he did multiple times, making you swallow the bitter feeling.

"Y-You had your chance... We don't want you... Y-You hurt us." you shuttered out, his dark aura always made you want to run, to hide.

"Please... it was only a slap." he replied.

To be correct there were too many slaps, and not only that, kicks and punches too, not to mention derogatory names that made you feel small and helpless.

Before you could tell him to leave, his hand shot up to grasp your jaw tightly, fingernails digging into the skin of your cheeks, making your eyes water.

"I think I should just get rid of you and get my son back." he whispered, pulling out a switch-blade from his pocket, but before he could use it, a big and black clawed hand shot out from nowhere, talons digging into the shoulder of your ex, making him let you go.

Your eyes widened as did your ex gaze when they landed on a man. No, he was definitely not a man. His height was insane, over 7'0, skin a sickly grey color, spikey jet black hair covering his head, clad in black clothing and his eyes of shining gold and the sclera all black.

Definitely not human.

Your ex stabbed the creature or whatever he was into his shoulder, but the entity didn't even flinch, only gazed where the blade was impaled.

"Who the fuck are you?!" your ex screamed, trying to pry his clawed hands from him.

The creature snarled into his face, black snakes shooting from the sharp-toothed mouth, hissing aggressively, making your ex scream. The scream didn't last long, for the creature ripped his arm straight off like it was nothing, throwing the limb over his shoulder, demonic dogs coming out of his back and chewing on the arm.

Your ex fell to the ground, sounds of agony leaving him, trying to crawl backwards, but the demonic being wasn't done with him, his clawed hands starting to rip him piece by piece, blood following like there was no end, the hellish dogs starting to eat each piece the creature threw at them until your ex simply disappeared.

You couldn't believe what you just witnessed, a choked cry leaving you. In an instant the sound left you pulled on the creature's attention, golden eyes meeting yours.

Before there could be any exchange of words, the sound of your son's voice, pulled your attention.

"Momma... What's happening?" he asked from his bedroom.

Gazing back to the creature, he was gone and any evidence of what happened simply vanished; no blood, no guts, not even a hint that there was any carnage.

Falling to your knees, you finally understood the old lady.

'He is coming.'

[wisteriashouse]

falling (ii). 

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: dark

word count: 6184

remarks: this was so un-fluffy and its probably what i’ve struggled most with writing to date skdfgd as usual, please like, comment or reblog if you like it <3 

ii. into your trap

One mistake is all it would take for everything to come crashing down.

That’s what had happened to the man before you, the man whose blood you’d spent hours scrubbing out of the carpet until every bit of crimson had been washed away. Because of a single moment of greed, he’d stolen a coat off a customer who’d ended up as the demon’s next meal - and that very coat had been a dead giveaway to the demon slayer investigating the disappearance of his relative. You wouldn’t be like that, you remind yourself, a tray in your hands as you make your way down the corridors of the brothel. You would never let a moment of emotion cloud your judgement and cause you to slip up. You can’t afford to.

It's all just for survival. That’s the reason why you’re the only one still alive today.

The rest before you have all been devoured. 

Shifting your tray to one hand, you take a deep, slow exhale and smile, curving the corners of your mouth up at just the right angle. The mask you’ve perfected over years of deception falls seamlessly into place. You raise your hand to the door.

“Rengoku-san?” You knock, raising your voice to a bright and energetic timbre. “Are you still asleep? May I come in?”

Rengoku Kyoujurou. The man with burning conviction in his eyes. The demon slayer here to destroy the only life you know. The person who you have to kill with your own hands.

The demon you serve isn’t a fool, in fact, far from that - it is more than aware of the power and skill a person would have to possess to earn the title of a Pillar, and it knows that it has no chance of winning in a direct confrontation with him. That’s why the task has been relegated to you. Demon slayers might know breathing techniques that allow their physical prowess to surpass even demons, but that’s the very flaw with their training - that they’ve been taught to battle demons, and only demons. 

You, on the other hand, are very much human, with the ability to slip between the gaps in their guard, the chink in their armour - the kindest ones have always the easiest to fool, after all.

Which is why you’re taken by surprise when there’s no answer from within. Wary at the lack of response, you rap your knuckles against the door once again, more urgent this time. Worry gnaws at your insides - what if he’s somehow already discovered the truth of this place, and has decided to flee before you can accomplish your task? The thought of the consequences you’d have to bear turns your stomach, and your knocking turns slightly more urgent. “Rengoku-san? Rengoku-san, are you inside?” 

“Is there something you need from me?”

You whirl around in surprise at the voice, heart leaping into your mouth. Behind you, Kyoujurou stands in the hallway, bathed in the early morning light streaming in through the open windows. When your eyes meet his, he smiles at you in greeting, lips curving up naturally in a radiant grin. “It’s a beautiful morning today, so I went for a walk to watch the sunrise!”

“That sounds lovely.” You tell him with a smile of your own, relief seeping into your bones - he’s none the wiser than he was when he first stepped into the brothel, and you intend to keep it that way until you slit his throat. Holding up the tray in your hands, you’re quick to observe the way his eyes fall first on the plate of roasted sweet potatoes cubes - so you were right about the scent you picked up on him when he saved you from falling yesterday. “I was about to bring breakfast up to your room, but I didn’t think you would be awake this early. I’ll get up earlier next time so you can eat before you start your day. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know!”

“There’s no need to force yourself to wake up early for my sake!” Kyoujurou laughs, stepping over to slide open the door to his room for you. “Please, come in!”

The bedding has already been kept away in the oshiire, his few belongings neatly arranged on the low table in the corner of the room. When Kyoujurou moves to clear them so that you can put the tray down, you catch a glimpse of several sheets of paper with scribbles all over them, a stray black feather peeping out from under the corner of the tatami. 

Your eyes narrow at the sight. The kasugai crow might turn out to be a problem, almost as bad as having unintended witnesses, but you have plenty of ways to ensure its message never gets back to the demon slayer corps, just as you had done with the previous one. 

For now, the crow is the least of your worries - it’s nothing compared to the danger the man before you poses.

Completely oblivious to the thoughts running through your mind, Kyoujurou gestures at the table with a hand. “Feel free to put it down here!”

Your smile is painted back onto your face the very instant he glances at you, as easily as a brush dancing across paper. “Please excuse how simple it is. The potatoes aren’t cut very well, so they might not be evenly cooked.” You say, dropping your voice to a more shy, apologetic tone, just like how the entertainers from last night had tuned their instruments. “It was a little difficult to use a knife, so forgive me for that.”

Your words seem to jolt Kyoujurou into remembering the events from yesterday, and his eyes instantly dart down to inspect your hands as you set the tray down before him. They’re bandaged lightly with white gauze, something that you’d gotten up early to do this morning, and yet even with them on, making the potatoes convincingly uneven had still taken you multiple attempts. “Don’t worry about the potatoes. I’m sure they’ll taste wonderful, if your cooking last night was anything to go by! Do your hands still hurt?” Kyoujurou’s gaze is soft and filled with concern as he looks up at you, and you glance away with an appropriate degree of shyness in response. 

“The scalding was a little more severe than I expected, but that was my fault. You don’t have to worry about it!” You reassure him, and as expected, he only gets more concerned when you try to brush off his kindness. “It’s just a minor inconvenience, and the worst that’ll happen is Masako-san’s nagging.” You sigh wistfully, the words murmured softly under your breath. “Ahh… I wish we had more hands in the kitchen here. It would be a lot easier to handle the cooking.”

From the way Kyoujurou’s eyes glance up at you, he’s heard every word you said.

You’ve set your trap.

“Well, I suppose that’s just how it is! It’s totally alright, though, I’ll just make do with what I have!” You smile energetically at the man sitting before you, although from the troubled expression on his face, there’s still more that he wants to say. “What I am sorry about is that you might have to wait for a while to have the meal I promised to make for you. I want to be in a good condition when I cook for you, so that you eat only my best!” 

He seems taken aback by your enthusiasm for a moment, before his smile widens. “Take all the time you need!” Kyoujurou says kindly. “I’m sure that I can wait.”

From the way he beams at you, you’re confident that he knows nothing of your true intentions - relieved with how you’ve been doing so far, a silent sigh of relief leaves your mouth. Rising to your feet, you give him a small wave. “Well then, I’ll be going first. You can just leave the dishes here, I’ll come back for them later-”

“Have you eaten?” Kyoujurou asks.

The sudden question takes you by surprise. Preparing the sweet potatoes had taken longer than you’d thought it would, so you had quite forgotten about your own food in your rush to bring Kyoujurou’s food to his room. “Well, no, but I’m sure I can find something in the kitchen-”

“If you are available, then please eat with me!” He gestures opposite him at the table. You clutch the tray tightly in your hands while your mind races. Offering to let you sit with him at the table, to share his meal with you, does he perhaps suspect that you’ve tampered with his food?

Cold sweat prickles at the nape of your neck, but you fight to keep your voice light. “Oh? Did I make too much food for you to finish, Rengoku-san?” 

Rengoku Kyoujurou, the man who holds your very life in his hands, only smiles warmly in response to your question.

“Food always tastes better when shared!” He explains to you jovially. There is no sign of any hidden intention or agenda in his gaze, his eyes clear and honest. His smile turns a hint amused as he regards you. “And was it not you who said that breakfast was the most important meal of the day? You should take care of yourself too!”

You take a seat in front of him, glad to have a reason to hide your shaky knees. Calm down, calm down, you repeat to yourself in an attempt to slow your racing heart. He hasn’t noticed a thing. Don’t panic and give yourself away. “I suppose I did,” you say, smiling at the man opposite you as you raise your chopsticks to take some natto for yourself. Kyoujurou grins and immediately reaches for the sweet potatoes, popping them into his mouth. This time, when he begins to exclaim ‘delicious!’ once more, you let yourself breathe, chewing slowly on the food in your mouth.

Everything, you think, as you watch Kyoujurou compliment your cooking with vigour, is going smoothly.

 On the second day, just as you’d planned, Kyoujurou joins you in the kitchen after breakfast.

At the sight of him grinning at you in the doorway, you feign pleasant surprise and gratitude by clasping your bandaged hands over your mouth, eagerly welcoming him into your kitchen. Behind you, the door to the meat storage is locked tight with a padlock, hidden from view with several crates of spices to mask the smell. 

He doesn’t have a clue that his fellow slayer’s head sat on your kitchen table last night.

By your estimates, you have roughly a week to kill Rengoku Kyoujurou, probably less. You’ve stayed up for the entirety of last night after your meeting with it, wracking your mind for reasons and excuses to get him to stay - but regardless of how many lies you might be able to manipulate him into believing, he will eventually figure out that Yugou Fukuzashi isn’t coming back, and when he does, you know his suspicion of this place will increase hundredfold.

That would make your job a whole lot harder, so with the deadline of a week hanging over your head, you set the first part of your plan to lower his guard around you into motion.

While you’ve heard of the near supernatural strength of the demon slayers, you’ve never actually met one in person aside from Yugou Fukuzashi (who by the time of your encounter had already been dying from blunt force to the head, courtesy of the man whose mistake had gotten you into this mess in the first place). However, you have no doubt that any of them, much less Kyoujurou, would be able to overpower you with ease. All you have on your side is your identity as a human and your cunning.

You’ll just have to make the best of what you have.

Hence, you think it’s more prudent to take things slow - like a spider approaching the prey wandering onto its web, you cannot allow yourself to move recklessly, or you’ll get caught in your own threads and fall to a demise of your own creation.

Kyoujurou fumbles with the knife at first, when you set him to work scraping the scales off some tuna, and part of you almost hesitates if you’ve gotten the wrong man - surely no Pillar trained in swordsmanship would be so awkward holding a blade. Still, you correct and guide him patiently, and he progresses under your tutelage faster than you expect. With his help, you finish lunch preparations slightly earlier than you expected to, leaving both of you with a small window of free time to sit down for a bit of a break.

“You learn fast, Rengoku-san.” You comment brightly as he sits at your kitchen table, his fingers drumming idly next to a dark stain in the tabletop. At your compliment, he pauses to grin, clearly pleased.

“Well, I had a good teacher.” He says and you laugh, picking up the knife you’d be using to put it aside. On the surface of the cold steel, the reflection of your smile is twisted, distorted. Casually, you lean forward. “Well then, how about letting your teacher give you a little test?”

Kyoujurou blinks, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “Sure!” He agrees, amicably. “What test would you have me participate in?”

You rise to your feet. “Close your eyes, it’s a surprise.” You urge. For a moment, Kyoujurou holds your gaze, before his eyes slip shut slowly, his breathing slow and even. “Yes?”

Your hand drifts along the shelves, your fingers coming to rest against the lid of a tightly sealed jar, tucked out of sight in a corner. There’s no label on it, but you’re more than familiar with the substance that lies inside. You’ve used it plenty of times now, after all.

Cyanide.

Should you try it now? With Total Concentration Breathing, a demon slayer should be able to slow the spread of poison by slowing their circulation, but you have no idea how effective it will be on a man of Kyoujurou’s caliber. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hesitate, torn between wanting to get your job done as fast as possible and worrying that you might fail.

If you do fail, you’ll be as good as dead. He wouldn’t even need his sword, with the strength in his arms alone, he could probably tear your head clean off your shoulders.

The thought makes cold sweat slide down the back of your neck.

“Are you going to make me taste test something?” Kyoujurou asks curiously, and your hand jerks off the jar in an instant, so quickly you almost knock the bowl adjacent to it onto the ground. “Should I continue to keep my eyes closed?”

“Of course! Patience, Rengoku-san.” You say, trying to hide the tremble of your hands, even though you can see his eyes are still firmly shut. The demon had warned you about the demon slayers’ strong survival instinct, but this should be just coincidence… mere coincidence, that must be it. Still, because you’re wary now, you turn away from the jar on your shelf. Not now.

 Reaching for the fruit basket instead, your shaking fingers close around a fruit and you turn back to hold it to Kyoujurou’s nose. A guileless smile still sits on his lips, as if he has no idea about the internal turmoil churning deep in you at the very moment. You take a deep breath and swallow, eyes fixed intently on his face.

“Guess what this is.” Kyoujurou’s nose twitches slightly for a moment, brows furrowing as he attempts to place the scent. Barely a second later, a triumphant grin passes his lips and he states his answer with full confidence. “Peach.”

“Wow, you’re good at this.” You say, exchanging the peach in your hands for something else. Kyoujurou beams excitedly at the praise. “Here, what about this?”

“Sweet potato!”

“Right again. What about this one?”

You hold up a mushroom under his nose, and instantly you see his lips pull into a frown. “It… doesn’t smell good. I seem to remember Kochou telling me something about this scent before…”

All of the hairs at the nape of your neck prick at once and you press your lips, trying your best to subdue the feeling of terror churning in the pit of your belly. “Of course it doesn’t.” You say, forcing your voice to take on a light, innocent tone. “Open your eyes.”

Kyoujurou opens his eyes slowly, staring down curiously at the mushroom you have in your hands before his eyes widen in shock. “[name], put that down, that’s poisonous!”

You lick your lips, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Of course it’s poisonous.” You hum lightly, waving the mushroom at him. “The first rule of cooking that my student should learn is to never eat things you don’t recognise, especially when it comes to mushrooms and berries. This is the death cap, probably one of the most poisonous mushrooms in the country! I’m surprised you could recognise it by its scent.”

He nods, listening intently. “Most people wouldn’t, but I have a… friend who is a pharmaceuticals expert! She deals with all manner of poisons and their cures, so I have some knowledge about them.” He tells you, and you have to contain your sigh of frustration. This new tidbit of information makes your job a whole lot harder.

“You have a lot of… interesting friends.” You make sure he sees you toss it into the bin before he can ask you what lethally poisonous mushrooms are doing in your kitchen.

Kyoujurou only grins. “They’re all very honourable people! I am blessed to have met each and every one of them!” His smile widens as he looks at you. “It is my fortune to have met someone like you here as well!”

You stare at him in the middle of taking a seat opposite him, taken completely off guard for a moment. “What?”

“When I first got here, looking for my friend, I was actually rather concerned about him! He’s investigating something dangerous, you see, so I was sent to provide him with some support.” Kyoujurou explains, and your hands fist the cloth of your hakama under the table. “Since there is nothing for me to do but wait, I thought that I might spend the next few days in worry! However, cooking with you makes time fly by, so thank you for that!”

You bite your lip at his words, before you smile at him, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that has suddenly lodged itself in the back of your throat.

“It’s my pleasure, Rengoku-san.”

That night, after Kyoujurou has long gone to bed, you stand over the table the two of you had sat at together this morning, knife in hand as you slice carefully at the fish on your cutting board. The fugu meat falls away in clean chunks, but the meat isn’t what you’re after - reaching inside, you pull out its inner organs with a pair of tweezers, putting them in a bowl next to you, careful not to get any on your gloves.

It takes much longer than cyanide to extract, but it’s over a thousand times more potent. Only twenty five milligrams of it is needed to kill an adult man, according to your experience. The victim first experiences paralysis of the muscles, before the poison moves to the diaphragm and the muscles of that move the ribs, ultimately leading to failure of the lungs. The victim then dies from asphyxiation.

Without his lungs, all his Total Concentration Breathing will be rendered useless.

Tetrodotoxin is a water soluble toxin, it is odourless and tasteless, and most importantly, there is no known antidote to it.

You set down the knife. One of the eyeballs you’d removed stares at you from the bowl, accusation in its shiny, bloody depths, but you swallow and pick up the bowl anyway, moving towards the distiller to extract what you need from its contents.

“It’s nothing personal, Rengoku-san.” You mutter to yourself.

It’s just a matter of survival here, after all.

On the second day, the robbery happens.

Or rather, well, it attempts to happen.

You had planned to collect some ingredients from your usual vendor outside the gate, dropping slight hints to Kyoujurou here and there when he’d been helping you with dinner preparation the day before. The moment you stepped out of the back door of the brothel, you had found Kyoujurou already waiting there with his usual bright grin, the early rays of the breaking dawn setting him alight in a blaze of red and gold.

This time, you could not bring yourself to feign surprise, instead smiling and telling him of your gratitude as the two of you began walking down the street. Due to the early hour, the red light district is oddly quiet, empty streets almost peaceful except for the occasional drunkard reeking of alcohol stumbling from one tavern to another.

The third time you see Kyoujurou wrinkle his nose at the smell, you turn to him, head tilted.

“Are you not fond of alcohol?”

He shakes his head, and out of the corner of your eye, you see that his usual smile has dimmed. “Alcohol muddles the mind and dulls the reflexes! It would compromise my capabilities.” Kyoujurou tells you, as the two of you walk side by side. You steer him into a narrow side alley, your shoulders brushing against each others. “I prefer not to drink unless the occasion calls for it, since I must always be at my peak physical condition at any given time.”

You let your mouth pull into a confused frown. “Why would you need to be-”

Something steps into the alley in front of you, blocking out the sunlight and casting long shadows across the ground. You glance up to see two ruffians standing in your path, leering grins on their faces. Your footsteps falter, before coming to a stop completely. Next to you, Kyoujurou does the same.

“Oi.” One of the men call, his sneer only growing. “Pay up! Don’t you know that you’re stepping on our territory?”

Kyoujurou frowns at their words, turning to whisper into your ear. “Are we intruding on their territory?” He asks, and you shake your head, stepping forward to confront them.

“This is a back alley behind Momoshizu.” You say, your voice level as you point at the brothel right next to them. “Unless you’re a dog guarding the back entrance to a brothel or a stray cat chasing rats for a living, you don’t have territory here. If you want to extort money from someone, do it outside the walls of the pleasure district.” Your eyes narrow. “Penniless trash like you don’t belong here.”

“[name]!” Kyoujurou sounds aghast at your barbed words, but you lean back to whisper to him. “If you give in even a little, they’ll start harassing you for more. It’s better to turn them down from the start.”

“Yes, of course,” Kyoujurou says, brows furrowed in worry as he regards the two men before you, “but this could turn out dangerous, wouldn’t it be better to call the law enforcement instead?”

“Well, yes, if there was any law enforcement in the first place-”

A low chuckle interrupts the two of you, and you turn around to see one of the men pulling something from his pocket. Silver glints in the early morning light and you take a step back, eyes widening. “Rengoku-san, they have a knife!”

Kyoujurou’s face is impassive, and for a moment you wonder what he’s thinking about when he suddenly smiles again, his usual grin returning to his face as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Its weight and warmth brings with it a certain peace that leaves you stunned. “It’s alright, there’s no need to worry!” He booms, almost radiant in the shadowed alley. Gently, he nudges you behind him and steps forward protectively, shielding you completely from their sight with his large frame. “You have me! I promise I won’t let any harm come to you!”

Come with me, a soft, poisonous voice echoes from the edges of your memory. It’s a cold, frostbitten night, but the blood on your hands is so, so hot. I won’t let any harm come to you. Come with me, little human. I’ll fill your stomach and give you a place to sleep. You just want to live…

Don’t you?

Bile rises in your throat, but luckily for you, Kyoujurou isn’t looking at you, his eyes trained on the men before you instead, his back straight and head raised. Bitter resentment at the fates gnaws at you, your hands clenching tightly into fists.

On that cold night, why couldn’t you have met someone like Rengoku instead?

“Kindly move out of the way.” You hear Kyoujurou say. His hands remain calmly by his sides, neither in a defensive nor offensive stance. “The alley is not large enough for the two of us to pass at the same time.”

“Hah?” The ruffian holding the knife steps closer so that he’s in Kyoujurou’s face, their noses almost touching. Still, Kyoujurou does not make a move to remove the knife from him. “Do you need your ears cleaned, idiot? I said, this is our territory. You’re the one who needs to pay up, scum!”

“I repeat, please move aside, or I will have to use force.” In spite of the insults being thrown in his face, Kyoujurou’s tone is still firmly polite, but now his words are edged with steel. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

“Hurt us? You’re making me laugh here, man.” The ruffian spits in his face, pressing the point of his blade to Kyoujurou’s throat. 

“Rengoku-san!” You exclaim, in shock, yet Kyoujurou still doesn’t move, hands pressed solidly to his sides as he looks at the man in the eye, dead calm. 

“Get the other one, too. That fucking mouth needs some payback. If we sell her, we might be able to get some money out of that too.”

Your eyes widen. The man’s partner turns his gaze on you, and he grins, pulling out a knife as well. Biting on your lower lip, you take a step back.

“Rengoku-san?” You reach out to tug at his sleeve. “We should probably run-”

Your fingers close around empty air.

Hours later, you’ll sit in your room, playing back your memories of this moment and yet still have no idea what you’ve just witnessed. All you see if a blur of orange, and then suddenly the man who was holding his knife to Kyoujurou’s throat is flat on his back, hands empty of any weapons. You’ve barely begun to shift your gaze when you see that the second man has already met with much the same fate, and for a moment, you can only stand there and stare in horror when you realise just what you’ve been tasked with killing.

He’s a monster.

Kyoujurou stands over them, not a strand of hair disheveled or out of place, the rise and fall of his shoulders still even and calm - he doesn’t look like he’s moved an inch. 

You have to kill him? Someone like him? Impossible. Your hand clasps over your mouth to contain your voice before it can flee your throat, eyes wide. No, no, no. You’ll die if you try to take him on. But if you don’t, you’ll...

Rows of jagged teeth fill your vision, crimson blood splattering over the carpet, a looming grin on the walls-

“It’s alright now!” A gentle voice cuts through your panic, and you look up to see Kyoujurou standing over you. You didn’t even realise when your legs had lost their ability to keep you standing, your behind planted in the dirt and your knees weak. With a reassuring grin, he holds out his hand to you. “Come, stand!”

You stare at his outstretched hand for a moment before tentatively placing your own hand in his. He pulls you to your feet, his other hand supporting you gently. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” The words are wooden in your mouth. “You protected me, after all.”

Kyoujurou grins at you. “That’s good to know!” Turning back to the two men still groaning on the ground, Kyoujurou holds up the two knives. “I’ll be taking these now.” His voice is stern. “I don’t want to see the two of you threatening innocent people again. Understood?”

Nodding frantically, the two men pick themselves up and scramble away, almost falling over their own feet in their bid to escape. As he watches them go, Kyoujurou lets out a sigh and pockets the knives in his sleeves, shaking his head. “Truly terrible, that people would try to hurt others this way for their own benefit.”

You swallow at his comment.

“Unbelievable.” Compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you affix a smile onto your face once more. “Well, now I see what you mean by needing to stay at the peak of your physical abilities. You’re very strong!” You say, trying to lighten the mood. It works, because Kyoujurou lets out a laugh at your words, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“I’m flattered!” He says cheerfully. “Now, shall we get going? There’s still lunch to prepare, after all!”

The sun is steadily climbing up the sky when you look up at it, and you yelp, tugging at his sleeve. “Oh no! Hurry, Rengoku-san! We’re late!”

The two of you run through the streets of the red light district together.

“You didn’t warn us about him!”

You hold your breath at the sound of the door being thrown wide open, exhaling in an attempt to stay calm. Turning around, you pick up a ceramic jar of sake from next to you. “It’s a nice night out, isn’t it?” From the open window, you can see the full moon hanging in the sky outside.

“I don’t have time for your nonsense.” One of the two ruffians from this morning snarls. You pause in opening the jar to compose yourself, before you invite him into the room with a wave of your hand.  

“Sit down and we’ll talk.” You say, pouring out three cups of alcohol. Both of them glare at you from opposite the room before they stomp up to you, unceremoniously sitting themselves onto the ground and scowls still painted on their faces. “Here, have a drink. I make the alcohol at this brothel myself.”

They don’t touch their cups, eyes full of mistrust as they stare at you. With a sigh, you shake your head.

“I’ll take the first drink, then.”

They watch you warily as you pick up a cup on your own, taking a long sip to enjoy its taste before placing the cup back down on the table. So different from Kyoujurou, you wonder to yourself, remembering the time you’d offered him wagashi during your first meeting and he had downed all of them without a second thought. Now that you think about it, you probably should have struck at that very moment. Evil truly expects evil from others.

“I want out of this job.” The first man snaps the second you put down the cup, grabbing a cup of sake from the table and taking a gulp. His partner, in contrast, downs the entire cup in an instant. “And I want compensation.”

You pour both of them another cup. “I can agree with the first one.” You say, trying to keep your voice even. “Not with the second.”

“You didn’t tell us that your target was going to be a fuckin’ monster!”

The two of you eye each other for a moment, neither willing to budge. Behind him, his partner picks up his refilled cup and downs it once again

“You never asked.” You answer. Your voice only wavers once. “Furthermore, you didn’t even manage to kill him. The only thing the two of you were good for was your acting, and even then kabuki dancers would have done a better job.”

“What the fuck was the point of the entire staged robbery anyway?” He snaps, knocking back another cup of alcohol. “If you meant for us to kill him, you wouldn’t have…” 

The man’s eyes darken in realisation as he says it, his arm reaching across the table to grip at the collar of your clothes, yanking you forward hard so that the two of you are face to face. Your ribs knock painfully against the edge of the low table, but you don’t let your gaze leave his, forcing your expression to stay neutral.

“You were playing us the entire time.” His voice is a low, raspy snarl. “You knew we weren’t going to be able to kill him.”

You don’t reply, but your lack of denial is more than confirmation enough for him.

He hurls the cup at you. You barely manage to duck in time and it only clips your shoulder, its contents dripping all over the front of your kimono. The slight, bitter scent of almonds permeates the air. “I’m going to kill you.” He snarls, getting to his feet. Like this, he towers over you easily. “You’re going to regret messing with the wrong type of people, missy.” 

He shoves you hard and you go crashing to the ground painfully with a yelp, your head knocking against the corner of the table and you see stars flash before your eyes. Before you can regain your balance, he swings one leg over your hips, pinning you down to the ground and before pulling another knife from his sleeve - this time, a sharp, single edged blade that could easily slice your neck to ribbons.

He presses it against your throat, and you swallow, trying not to tremble and cut yourself on the edge of his blade. You don’t know how you’d explain such a wound to Kyoujurou tomorrow.

“Now,” his breath is rancid, his knee pressing painfully into your hip - you know bruises will form there tomorrow, “I’m going to show you what exactly happens when you waste our time like this, you fucking-”

“Fujita!” 

The grip on your robe loosens ever so slightly as the man whips around to glare at his partner. “I’m talking here, man, what the hell do you...” his partner is writhing on the tatami mats, clawing at his throat, desperate, breathless screams leaving his mouth. “Saburo! Saburo, what’s happening to you?”

You shove him off you with all your strength and he topples to the ground with a heavy thud. Shaking your head as you stagger to your feet, you wipe at the stain on your kimono before eyeing it with disappointment. “This is going to take ages for me to clean now.” You exhale as Saburo flails wildly, choking on air as he attempts to breathe. Fujita whirls around to stare at you. 

“What did you do?” He roars, but when he tries to stand, he staggers to the side, nearly falling before he manages to catch his balance. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at you in horror. 

“Poison in your cups, but not mine, of course. It would be a waste of alcohol to poison the entire jar.” You say wearily, picking up your own cup from the table and taking another sip. “Cyanide, if you want me to be specific.”

Fujita chokes, grasping desperately at his own throat, before he stumbles and falls onto his knees, eyes wide with terror. You watch as the knife falls from his hands and clatters onto the tabletop. Saburo is already still, aside from the occasional twitch. “The two of you made useful test dummies, I suppose. Well, I could pay the two of you for that… but you won’t have much need for money in a few moments, anyway.”

Still, Fujita tries to claw his way to the door, struggling to put one hand in front of the other as he fights to force air into his lungs. You watch him for a few moments and wonder if you should have used a higher dosage instead to finish him off more quickly. Picking up the jar of alcohol, you cross the room in three quick strides and bring it down on his head with all the force you can muster.

The heavy ceramic jar of alcohol shatters the second it connects with the back of his skull, and Fujita crumples to the ground one final time. For a moment, the room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing, and when you look down at your hands, a shallow cut bleeds red over your palm before the blood falls to the tatami below in little, crimson drops.

Looking at the mess before you, you can only shake your head and sigh.

“It’s nothing personal.” You say, out loud. “You tried to kill me, after all.”

The corpses on the ground have no reply.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

First Journey

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Four

A JSE Fanfic

Another one :D Chase continues to get to know everyone, and soon goes on his first mission as an official Phantom. There’s a bit of a time skip in between that, but hey, I don’t think it would’ve been too interesting to hear about every single day Chase spends at Wyvernlair. Anyway, yeah. Don’t have much to say, so just read on and enjoy ^-^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

By the time the sun set and everyone started to head towards the cooking fires for dinner, Chase’s arms were aching from the effort of shooting a bow for hours. They felt less like part of him and more like useless things hanging from his shoulders. He was glad the day was over. The whole thing had been a lot to take in, and that training at the end had just made him exhausted physically as well as mentally.

Just like the previous night, Chase lingered around the edges of the cooking fires, instead of actually doing much mingling. It looked like almost all of the Phantoms were here, either getting food or doing the cooking themselves. Most had taken their masks off and had them in their hands or around their necks as they chattered in groups with each other. Chase, however, just waited for more people to clear up so he could feel comfortable getting food. He headed over towards the dragon leg bones that were in the area and sat down near the end, on one of the smaller bones that could serve as a bench. Some time passed, and more and more people arrived.

“Are you actually going to get something, or just sit and stare?”

Chase yelped, and twisted around to see Henrik standing behind him. “Oh. Hello.” He’d almost forgotten that Henrik had said he’d meet up with him at dinner. “How are you doing?”

“I am alright.” Henrik sat down next to him. “I would ask you the same, but I think I can tell everything by the expression on your face.”

“Do I look that bad?” Chase groaned.

“No, not bad. Just tired.” Henrik paused. “Am I right?”

“You’re right.” Chase rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m still...trying to understand everything. All this about medicine and magic and everything else. And having to prepare for combat, you know? I may be a hunter, but I’ve never fought a person. Unless you count getting into squabbles when I was a kid, and even then, it never came to blows.”

“Oh.” Henrik looked away. “Maybe I should not have insisted you do everything at once. I’m sorry. I thought it would help you to be part of the group, if you knew what you needed sooner, instead of later.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not you,” Chase hurried to say. “It’s the whole situation. I just need time.”

“Right.” Henrik hesitated, looking like he wanted to say more. But then he shook his head a little, and said nothing.

“What? What is it?” Chase asked.

“Nevermind, if you are feeling overwhelmed, I do not want to add to it—”

“No, please, if there’s anything else, say it now. You’re right, I’d rather have everything laid out at once.”

Henrik sighed. “Well...you see, now that you are all caught up, we usually have you choose where you want to fit in. We have these—here.” His mask was hanging off his belt, and he reached down and picked it up. “You’ve noticed the symbols on the forehead by now, yes? That tells everyone what you do. It’s a helpful shortcut, since we all have different skills.”

“Ah.” Chase nods, recalling the different symbols he’d seen. There was the straight line with the curved lines wrapped around it, the circle with two dots, the X with two dots, and the card suits. “There are four, right?”

“Five, actually,” Henrik corrected. “You probably haven’t seen the fifth up close, ah...” He turned towards everyone else gathered around the cooking fires. “See, look, over there. It’s on Ana’s mask.” And he gestured towards a nearby redheaded woman, wearing a mask in the shape of a floppy-eared dog. The symbol on her forehead was a five-pointed star.

“Alright, five,” Chase nodded. “What do they mean?”

“The one I have here means medicine,” Henrik said, tapping his mask. “Or otherwise, support. We are also all birds so that we can be picked out easily in an emergency. Then the circle and cross are for combat, those are the types who go out on missions.”

“Why are there two?” Chase asked, raising an eyebrow.

Henrik shrugged. “Different skill sets. I’m not sure on the specifics, that is Jackie’s area of expertise. But circles are more direct, I believe. Like warriors. Then the star is for organization, things like records and messengers. And the card symbols mean you are a magic-wielder.”

“And why use the card suits for magic?” Chase pressed. “To my knowledge, card games aren’t magical.”

“Ah—well—w-we didn’t choose that particular symbol,” Henrik said, and then quickly moved on. “Of course, you do not have to choose now. We can put this on the shelf and you can think it over. Oh, but I should tell you now, you cannot have your own mask just yet, with your own chosen animal. You will have to use one of our extras until we get some plaster.”

“That’s fine. I don’t know what animal I’d want to be, anyway.” Chase fell silent for a minute, watching the others gathered around the fires. Someone had started playing an instrument, and the sound of strumming was soon joined in by a few people singing along. Many of them were clearly missing the notes, but they made up for that with the joy in their voices. “Yea, I’ll think about it.”

Henrik nodded, and said nothing, joining him in on watching the others. After a moment, he took a small flask out of a pouch on his belt and drank.

“That can’t hold that much ale,” Chase said. “You wouldn’t get anything out of that.”

At that remark, Henrik spluttered, and almost choked before managing to swallow the mouthful of liquid he’d just taken. “It’s not ale,” he said, voice a bit hoarse. “I-I do not—drink anything of that sort.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Chase said, embarrassed. “I was going to joke about having some, but, um, sounds like it’s...just water, then?”

“No, no.” Henrik capped the flask and put it back in the pouch. “Is medicine, actually. You would not want any.”

“Oh,” Chase repeated. He could tell that Henrik didn’t want the issue pressed any further. And who could blame him, really? Something like that was fairly personal. “Hmm...you know, I was thinking, and...I don’t actually know that much about you, do I?”

“I assure you, you know more than anyone here except Jackie,” Henrik said drily. “Most of the Phantoms know I am a doctor, but not that I travel.”

“I don’t just mean your occupation, I mean a lot more than that. Like, for example, how old are you? Do you have any family? Are you courting anyone? Things like that.”

Henrik started to smile a bit. “I am twenty-nine years old.”

“You’re a year younger than me?!” Chase gasped.

“Hey, I don’t look that old, do I?” Henrik nudged his shoulder.

“No, you don’t, really. I just...guess you seem it,” Chase said slowly. “You sound and act like you have a lot of experience.”

“Well, thank you,” Henrik said, flattered. “As for family, my parents still live in Alterde. I used to write to them, but not anymore.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Hmm.” Henrik pursed his lips. “It is a long story. What about your family?”

Chase shook his head. “Mam and Dad are gone, have been for years now. I don’t have any siblings. Stacia had a sister, but she went down into the flatlands to become a merchant. So, really, it’s only been me, Stacia, and the kids.” His heart was starting to sink the more he talked, so he quickly moved on. “Can’t help but notice you changed the subject just before you answered my last question.”

“Hmm? And what was that?” Henrik asked, clearly feigning ignorance.

“Ohhhh, I see.” A wide grin spread across Chase’s face. “So, you’re not actively courting anyone, but you’re pining. Is that it?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Henrik said, not looking him in the eye.

At that moment, someone approached the pair from the side, recognizable even from a distance because of that red cloak. “I’m missing some context, but I think I can figure out what’s going on here,” Jackie said. “Come on, Henrik, everyone knows. I thought Chase needed to be on page with everyone, riiiiight?”

“I—not like—this is—” Henrik stammered for a while, then tried to change the subject again. “What are you holding?”

“Well I saw you two being lonely out here on the edge, so I thought I’d bring you some food.” Jackie was awkwardly holding three plates, two in one hand and one in the other. “Here.” He set two of the plates down on the bone next to each of them. “I hope you like venison, Chase.”

Chase scoffed a bit. “You remember you’re talking to a hunter, right? I was raised on venison.” He picked up the nearby plate, noting the fork balanced on top of the meat. “Elders, you guys must have a lot of dishes.”

“Oh you have no idea,” Jackie muttered. “We rotate cooking and cleaning every week, so remember to check the chore notice by storage to see if it’s your turn to wash them all.”

“I’m already dreading it,” Chase assured him. “Also, I can’t help but notice Henrik still hasn’t answered my question about if he’s courting anyone.”

“Shush,” Henrik said, face slowly growing red.

Jackie chuckled. “Nothing official. He just happens to like a certain someone. But he’s not at this camp, so Schneep’s just been waiting, and I’m sure the moment they’re reunited he’s going to run right at him and profess all his feelings in a poetic—”

“Schwestern verdammit, Jackie!” Henrik threw his fork at Jackie, who just laughed and let it hit him. “Can you not do this?!”

Jackie couldn’t speak, he was too busy laughing. The best he could do was hand him his fork again.

“Well, then,” Chase muttered. “I guess that’s an answer.”

Henrik sighed. “Do not—tell anyone. I suppose everyone...knows already, but please don’t. I am not sure if he’ll...feel the same. And I want to be more sure before he finds out through rumors.”

“Alright, Henrik,” Chase said cheerfully, shrugging. “I understand. Besides, I don’t even know who you’re referring to, so I wouldn’t even know who to talk about.”

“...thank you.” Henrik let out a breath, and glared at Jackie.

“Aw, you love me,” Jackie grinned. He pushed his wolf mask off, and turned to Chase. “And if you’re going to ask me that question, the answer is no, I’m not courting anyone. Don’t have my eye on anyone either, but I don’t have a preference, so I’m sure I’ll find someone eventually. Maybe once things are less busy.”

“Good luck on that, then,” Chase nodded.

Jackie smiled wider. This was the first time Chase had seen him without the mask covering the upper half of his face. There was a small scar next to his right eye, short but straight, probably caused by a blade. And he looked...younger than Chase expected. Much like Henrik, he thought Jackie would be older than him, but he seemed to be the same age as him, if not younger. For a moment, Chase wondered how these two got mixed up in this whole rebellion situation. Were they affected by the King’s actions like he was? Or in some other way? Or something else he couldn’t come up with? And why were their masks the only ones that had color?

Before he could ask any of these questions, Henrik decided it was once again time to change the subject. “Ah, Chase, I have been meaning to ask you.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to...learn how to read better?”

“Huh?” It took Chase a moment to return to the present. “Well, I guess. It would be helpful to know more. Why, do you want to teach me?”

“A-ah, I don’t know if I would be a good teacher,” Henrik mumbled.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you were pretty good at teaching me,” Jackie said. “And that was while you yourself were still learning the language!”

“You know most of that wasn’t me, it was—” Henrik suddenly stopped, glanced at Chase, and abruptly moved on. “There is more to teaching than just knowing the language.”

“I know, and you were pretty good at it.”

“I was going to say that we would find someone who would have more time on their hands, we are busy—”

“Not as much now that you’re not travelling anymore. Besides, I think it would work best with you two together, you already sort of know each other, and you’re getting along well. It’d just be complicated to shove Chase at someone new, he already met enough new people today.”

Henrik tried to argue further, but Jackie just looked at him, his expression a strange mix of pleading and stubbornness. So, Henrik just sighed, and turned to Chase. “Would you want me to teach you?”

After a moment, Chase nodded. “Yea. Jackie’s right, w-we already know each other, it’ll be easiest.”

Henrik looked up to the sky. “Alright, then. I will find some time, Sisters willing.”

“Great!” Jackie gave Henrik a quick one-armed hug. “Now you two should actually eat the food I brought you. It’ll get cold fast.” And with that, he disappeared back into the rest of the crowd.

Chase watched him go. “He’s...something, isn’t he?”

Henrik laughed quietly. “You are right.” Then he looked at Chase. “So, is that it, then?”

“Reading. Yea.” Chase paused. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course it is not. It’s my schedule that is the trouble.” Henrik shook his head. “Now, please. We should eat.”

They ate quietly, and afterwards, Chase went back to his tent. The moment he laid down, he was asleep, too tired to do anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed. Days, at first, and then weeks. Frost started to linger on the ground, and people started wearing two jackets or cloaks to block out the cold. Personally, Chase was content with his one jacket and hat. Maybe he was more used to the cold than the other members of the Masked Phantoms. Or maybe he was just too busy to feel the chill.

It took him a few more days than expected to decide where he’d fit in. Obviously, he didn’t have any magic, so he couldn’t help with any magic-related tasks. And after thinking about it, he didn’t really have the mind for medicine. There was just so much to remember, not just about medicine itself, but also how the body worked, and he’d have to look after so many people. Sure, he might know a bit about simple injuries and common illnesses, but just the extent to which Henrik and Nemet and all the other doctors had to remember and learn...he didn’t think he was cut out for it. It was a similar case for the more administrative tasks. He’d never been very organized. It didn’t seem like a good fit.

So, instead, he turned his attention to his skills. He was a hunter. So, on some level, combat made sense. It was also the one that involved the most action. Groups and individuals were frequently leaving and returning to camp, many of them wearing masks with the circles or crosses that indicated they were fighters. That was what Chase wanted to do. Direct action. But not too direct. He wasn’t a warrior, after all. And Henrik had described the circles as being like warriors...given the process of elimination, the result was obvious.

But he figured that out quickly. The reason he hesitated to commit to that particular branch of the Phantoms...was because of Lukas. Chase picked up that Lukas and Holly were in charge of the two combat-based branches, with Lukass leading the crosses and Holly leading the circles. And Lukas continued to show a deep mistrust of him that was honestly unnerving. He brought it up with Jackie and Henrik, but they each reassured him that Lukas would learn to get along with him. But...that didn’t seem to be happening. In fact, Chase felt like Lukas was going out of his way to keep an eye on him. Every time Chase went out to the combat fields, Lukas was there, insisting that he show off his bow skills. And sometimes, Chase even thought he could see the fox-masked man following him around camp. But that last part might just be paranoia and mistaken identity. After all, there were many different animal masks at Wyvernlair.

Eventually, Chase realized he might be taking too long to decide, so he gritted his teeth, and told Jackie about his choice the next time he saw him. Jackie was excited, as he usually seemed to be, and took him to storage to pick up one of the spare masks. There were three spares marked with the crosses: a wolf, a mouse, and a hedgehog. Chase didn’t want to choose the same wolf theme as Jackie, so he went for the hedgehog. Stacia had always thought those were cute.

Of course, it turned out that his anticipation of difficulties with Lukas...was entirely correct. He seemed a bit surprised to hear that Chase had decided to join the branch he was in charge of, but he quickly got over that feeling and doubled down on his obvious distrust. Every day, he’d meet Chase at the combat fields, and give him a target range to shoot at...over and over and over. And they got more difficult each day. He said he was trying to improve Chase’s mediocre shooting ability, but Chase got the impression he wanted him to fail.

On the bright side, once he got a mask of his own, even if it was only a spare, everyone else quickly accepted that he was part of the Phantoms. And once that happened, it was easy to get to know everyone. Nemet was already familiar with him, so she’d stop by every so often to check on him, and to insist that he keep his tent in order. Holly regularly intervened when Lukas started to go a bit too far in his ‘archery practice,’ and every so often, gave Chase short lessons in self-defense. Tripp, the sorcerer, kept popping out of nowhere to strike up a conversation about some random topic before disappearing. And of course, Jackie and Henrik were always around.

Somehow, the fact that Chase was getting to know all these people seemed to upset Lukas, making him even more suspicious.

Though, there was something strange that Chase was noticing. As he became familiar with other Phantoms, he got the distinct impression that...something was missing. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it. When he talked to people, they’d sometimes start to say something, then change the subject. How’d they manage to find these dragon bones? Who came up with the idea to make the masks animals? Are there quite a lot of magic-wielders in the group? Questions like that got glossed over, and soon, Chase began to realize there was an empty hole in the Phantoms that nobody wanted to talk about. An empty hole...where a person might fit.

This realization only made him more curious about whoever-this-was who was missing. But if nobody was giving him the answers to the small questions, he doubted they’d say anything if he just bluntly asked about this person. But the thought just wouldn’t go away. Maybe...he could ask Henrik? He seemed the most likely to give him some sort of answer. Perhaps he could bring it up during one of their reading lessons.

The lessons weren’t too bad, really. Chase already knew a fair amount, so they weren’t starting from scratch. He already knew how to put together sentences and could read most commonly-used words. But oftentimes the lessons were short, as Henrik got called away to do something or other really quickly. This meant that progress was still slow, even with Chase practicing on his own.

Where he struggled most was with the new words. He recognized every one so far from speech, but his mind couldn’t match up the spelling with the sounds. Mostly because they were, in his opinion, not spelled how they sounded at all.

In one lesson, he threw the chalk he was using away and exclaimed “Why do they combine the letters?! It would be so much easier to have one letter for every sound!”

“Oh, I do not disagree with you there,” Henrik said, standing up to retrieve the chalk. They’d taken to holding the lessons on the edge of camp, where the trees of the forest once again started to appear. The chalk had hit one of said trees, and Henrik found it quickly. He walked back to his spot next to Chase, sat on the ground next to him, and handed him the chalk

Chase grumbled and pressed the chalk hard into the board they were using. Copying the letters and words was easy, even if his handwriting was a bit crooked and looked like a ramshackle hut next to Henrik’s solidly built houses of letters. But recognizing the words? “Why don’t they change it so it makes more sense?”

Henrik shrugged. “Alphabets do not just change automatically. It is something that happens slowly, over time. From what I understand, the one that most nations use today is put together by combining symbols from many different places. Of course, many nations that are farther away use their own. And even some close by are stubborn to keep their own letters.”

“We should’ve kept our own letters,” Chase muttered.

“Hmm?” Henrik’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. That doesn’t even make sense. I’m just frustrated.” Honestly, Chase wondered if Glasúil ever had its own alphabet. The single kingdom was once home to several different clans, each with their own customs. They probably each had an alphabet, and when the kingdom was united, decided it was too much trouble to pick one or combine them, so they brought in an alphabet from beyond the island.

“Ah, I see. Well, I think you’re doing very well.” Henrik looked up towards the sky. “But unfortunately, I will have to leave soon.”

“Aw.” Chase erased the words on the board with his jacket sleeve. “Tooooo bad.”

Henrik scoffed. “Well, remember you have to practice words with those combined letters—”

“Yea, I got it, Henrik. Ancient elders, you can be a stick in the ground sometimes.”

Despite Chase’s tone, Henrik smiled briefly. “Before I go, I have to tell you something. Or, well, I should ask first. Are you ready to go on your first mission?”

Chase perked up. In the weeks he’d spent here, he hadn’t gone on one mission to help the Phantoms. The timing was perfect; he was starting to get restless. “Of course. What is it? What do I have to do?”

“Nothing too risky, not for your first time. But recently, we heard that there were...unusual visitors in the surviving mountain villages. The ones more...downhill. Farther from the Greatwoods. It may be nothing, but we should go see. Since you are familiar with the mountains, it seemed a good idea to ask you go to along.”

“It’s a group?” That made sense. If they didn’t want too much risk on his first mission, there would be safety in numbers. “Who else is going?”

“Jackie—”

“Jackie’s going? He could’ve asked me himself.”

Henrik huffed. “He was going to tell you, but he got sidetracked by business, so he asked me to tell you, since I would be seeing you first. Elin is also going, she is a sorcerer. And Kenneth, who is a doctor.”

“Four people.” Chase nodded. “Maybe you should come, too, round it up to five for luck.”

“I am delighted that you’d want my company, but...well, must I really repeat my scheduling problems?” Henrik sighed. “Besides, if Jackie is gone, someone has to be here to make sure everything goes well. I assure you, Kenneth is a wonderful doctor.”

“I’m sure,” Chase nodded. Though he was a bit sad Henrik wouldn’t be coming, he knew it would’ve been difficult. At least Jackie would be there. “When are we leaving? Did Jackie tell you?”

“Two days from now,” Henrik said.

“Oh. That’s sooner than I expected,” Chase admitted.

“You have to account for travel time,” Henrik explained. “I understand the village is three days from here, if you go straight. Possibly four.” He once again glanced up at the sky, and stood up. “Alright, I really must go now. Remember to practice.”

“Yea, I hear you. Be seeing you.” Chase waved Henrik off as he headed back towards the main body of Wyvernlair, passing in between the distant—but still large even this far away—bones of the dragon, and disappearing from sight.

Two days, huh? Chase supposed that was enough time to prepare. Sighing, he stood up, grabbing the board and chalk. And maybe enough time to finally get a hang of some of these letter combinations. He might as well get started now. Once he left for this mission, it would be a few days before he’d see Henrik again for another lesson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Chase met up with Jackie and the two others, and they set off before the morning frost started to melt. The journey itself wasn’t too exciting. Just a lot of traveling through the woods. The other two people on the mission, Elin and Kenneth—a pair of siblings wearing near-identical goat masks—weren’t very talkative, so Jackie filled most of the silence. The most surprising thing was the number of animals Chase was seeing. The area of the woods around his town had been so empty, even for late fall. But as they moved farther from camp, he saw all kinds of woodland creatures, even a few deer. That was strange.

Something that wasn’t strange, but took some getting used to, was that everyone was carrying weapons. Chase was used to having a bow on his back and a quiver by his side, but it was strange to look at his companions and see them armed as well. Elin had a pair of daggers dangling from her belt, while Kenneth had a single, broad-bladed sword that he carried on his back. Jackie had two swords, one on his back and one on his hip. Chase found that odd, but he was sure Jackie knew what he was doing. Jackie had insisted Chase carry a knife as well as he bow, just in case. So one of the swords must’ve been a spare, ‘just in case.’

But the journey passed surprisingly quickly, and the next thing Chase knew, three days had gone by, and Jackie was gathering the three of them to talk about their approach to the mountain village, called Skytown.

“Alright, we’re going to circle around so we’re approaching from the east, that way it’ll look like we just came from downhill instead of the forest. That won’t be unusual, I understand this village gets a lot of visitors from farther down. Everyone alright with that?”

Everyone nodded slowly. “We would blend in more as visitors if we had horses,” Elin muttered. The few times she’d spoken up on the journey had all been talking about horses.

“Damn it, Elin,” Kenneth sighed. “Do we have to talk about the unsuitable terrain again?”

“No, no, I was just pointing it out.” Elin paused. “But I still don’t understand why people bring horses up into the north mountains, but not here. They’re both mountains. And the Northavens are much rockier.”

“It’s not about rocks, it’s about sudden ups and downs and the steepness of the slope. People can climb, horses can’t.”

“Alright, you two, break it off,” Jackie said. “Chase, are you on board with us?”

Chase nodded. “Um...can I say something, though?”

“What?” Jackie asked.

“I think I should stay back. If you’re planning to pretend to be visitors from the flatlands, that is.”

“Hmm?” Jackie tilted his head. “Interesting. Why?”

“Well, something I’ve noticed is that all of you from the flatlands talk differently than me,” Chase said. “Not too much, but it’s noticeable. See, just the fact that I call the rest of the kingdom ‘the flatlands’ would give away that I’m actually from the mountains. So, if you’re going to pretend to be visitors, I should stay back, because I’d give it away.”

“You could just not talk,” Elin suggested.

Chase considered this. “I guess that could work...but it might be hard.”

“Let’s talk about it again when we’re out of the forest,” Jackie said. “C’mon, get moving everyone. We’re almost there.”

By now, the colorful autumn foliage of the trees had mostly fallen off, making a carpet of brown leaves on the forest floor and leaving the branches above bare in many places. And Chase had noticed that the trees were starting to spread out, less close together like they were deeper in the forest. Jackie was right; they were almost to the edge of the forest. Though the area itself was unfamiliar to Chase, it felt similar to home.

While looking around these surroundings, he saw something move. He almost missed it, on the very edge of his vision. Chase stopped, turning to look. Was that...a deer?

“Chase! Keep up!” Jackie called.

“Sorry!” Chase looked away for a moment, hurrying to catch up with the others. When he glanced back, the deer-shaped thing was gone.

Soon, the trees thinned out, and the four of them stood on the edge of the forest, overlooking the mountain village Skytown. It was quite a bit bigger than the Hilltown Chase called home. All the buildings were solid stone, large enough for at least four rooms, with thatched roofs that hadn’t been present back in Hilltown. People still bustled about, but their clothes were a bit nicer, with less patches. Was this because Skytown was downhill, closer to the rest of the kingdom?

“Nothing looks strange from up here,” Kenneth said, shielding his eyes against the sun. “What would these unusual people look like?”

“The reports said they were dressed nicely, almost nobly,” Jackie said. “And there was at least one of them wearing the royal crest.”

Elin raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“Alright. Chase.” Jackie turned to look at him. “Do you still want to stay behind?”

“Um...” Chase hesitated. Stalling for time, he once again looked around the forested surroundings. Back home, the trees almost curved around Hilltown, leaving only one side that was open. Here, it was the opposite. Most of the area around Skytown was open, covered in grass and rocks, and the forest was only to the west. It felt a bit strange, seeing all that wide, clear space.

Idly, Chase looked over his shoulder. And froze. There was a deer there. Some ways away, blending in with the brown forest, mostly hidden by the trunks of the trees. But its antlers...they drew his eyes. Gilded. Golden. And from there, he noticed that the deer was looking right at him.

His heart stopped.

“Chase? Is everything okay?” Jackie asked, concerned.

“Y-yes.” Chase turned back around. “I...think I’ll stay back here. I’ll be the cavalry. If something happens, just send me a sign, I’ll come running.”

“Are you sure?” Jackie asked. “You don’t want to get closer, at least?”

“No, this is the only place nearby with cover,” Chase insisted.

Jackie looked unsure, but he nodded. “Alright. We’ll send you a sign, somehow.”

“I could do that,” Elin said, wiggling her fingers.

“We won’t be long, though. Be on the lookout.” Jackie turned to the others. “Alright, masks off and hidden. We want to look normal. If there’s an emergency, put them on first before anything else.” The other two nodded, and he looked back at Chase. “We’ll be back soon.”

Chase nodded, taking a step back into the forest. “Good luck.”

He watched as they hid their masks behind their cloaks, then headed out, circling around the village, eventually shrinking into the distance. The moment they were gone, he turned back around.

The deer was still there.

In fact, it was closer.

What was he supposed to do? “Is this...is this because I almost shot you that night?” he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know it was you. Had I known, I never would’ve taken aim.”

The deer’s ear flicked. Its head moved side to side, as if shaking ‘no’ in response to his question.

“Then...what? What is it?” Chase waited, but didn’t get another response. He blinked. And suddenly, the deer was even closer. “I-if I’ve done something to wrong you, or any of the Elders, I-I sincerely apologize, and assure you it was done in ignorance, not malice.”

Another shake of the deer’s head. He blinked again, and suddenly it was right in front of him, close enough that he felt hot breath on his face. It was an unusually large deer. Most of the ones he’d encountered had their head reach his chest, not counting the antlers. But this...the deer’s eyes were level with his, large and unfathomably dark.

His head started to spin. The ground tilted beneath his feet, but he didn’t fall. For a moment, everything was alive. The forest floor was breathing, the rocks were mumbling, the trees were staring at him, the sky above was filled with a foreign presence. The world was vast, it was living, and he could reach out and touch the soul of everything.

Then the deer blinked. And Chase gasped, staggering backwards, losing his balance and landing hard on his back. Groaning, he sat up again. Wait a minute...had the sun changed position? He could’ve sworn it was closer to the eastern horizon a few seconds ago. The difference wasn’t large, but it was noticeable. Confused, he looked back at the deer.

It blinked again, slowly. Then it looked away from him, towards something behind him. Its head moved up...and down. Like a nod. Chase, turned around.

There was a plume of smoke rising into the sky from the village.

Chase gasped, and scrambled to his feet. He glanced back over his shoulder, but the deer was gone. What had that all been about? No, this wasn’t the time. If anything was a sign, that was it. He made sure that he still had his bow and quiver with him—of course he did—and pulled the hedgehog mask onto his face. Then, he ran.

The town wasn’t quite in chaos yet, but it was getting close. The townsfolk were shouting and pointing, but not fleeing in panic. He got more than a few baffled looks as he passed through, but he ignored them, and headed towards the fire, near the village center. And the closer her got, the more people he ran past who were, in fact, fleeing in panic.

By the time he reached the center, the air was filled with smoke. He skidded to a halt, taking a moment to breathe through it.

The center was taken up by a wide square, with a well in the middle. It was the buildings around this square that were on fire, their thatched roofs aflame...as well as the stone walls. Chase was taken aback by the familiar, strange sight. But then he turned his attention to the few people in the square.

A fight had broken out. Or, more accurately, three separate fights, one for each of his masked companions. Nearest to him, Kenneth had pulled out his sword and was dueling with a man. A man wearing a black tunic with the royal crest on the back. And it looked like this man considerably outmatched Kenneth in skill, because he kept forcing him to back up. Across the square, Jackie was also in a battle of swords, but his battle was very different. Three people—two men and a woman—were attacking him, but he was easily holding his own, dancing around them in a whirl of scarlet cloak. And he was using both swords. Chase had never seen or heard of anything like it, but the way Jackie was moving, you’d think there’d never been any other way to use a sword, other than in pairs.

The strangest fight was happening in the middle of the square, around the well. Strange because there were no weapons being used. Instead, this was a battle of magic. Elin and another woman were circling each other, with the well in the center. The strange woman had something in her hand, something glowing, and she’d pull some of that glowing light away from the object and hurl it towards Elin. The moment the glow left her hands it became a raging ball of fire, but Elin was expertly drawing water from the well in fluid streams, shaping it to shield her. She kept glancing back at the burning buildings, but when she tried to send water that way, the strange woman would throw another fireball that she had to deflect.

Nobody had noticed Chase yet. Taking advantage of that fact, he quickly pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on his bow. He got ready to loose the arrow, but hesitated. He’d never shot at a person before.

At that moment, Elin glanced back at the fire again, and her shield of water wavered. The strange woman threw another fireball, hot enough to fly through the weak shield without disappearing. Elin screamed as it hit her shoulder.

And Chase snapped to action, shooting his arrow towards the strange woman. It landed in her back, and she screamed as well.

The man in the black tunic stopped his duel with Kenneth, spinning around. “Lady Tinechroí!” he shouted. And the moment he was distracted, Kenneth turned and fled. He ran towards Elin, who had fallen to the ground, clutching her shoulder.

The other three strangers attacking Jackie also stopped to turn, and in that moment, Jackie brought one of his swords down on one of the two men, wounding him in a splash of red. The other two cried out, and Chase nocked another arrow, shooting towards the other man. That arrow hit him in the leg, causing him to bend over, and Jackie hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of his other sword. Then he turned quickly to block an attack from the woman, the last attacker.

“You.”

The single word was filled with venom, and Chase immediately knew it was directed at him. He turned to look. The strange woman, the one he’d shot in the back, was now leaning against the well for support. In that moment, Chase managed to take in a few details about her. Pale blonde hair, pulled back in a braid. Unnaturally bright blue eyes. Wearing a purple tunic and trousers that were embroidered with gold, looking very fine. In her hand, she held a silver brooch with a red gem in the center. And then the gem started to glow. In a split second, that glow ran up the woman’s arm and into her body. She glowed bright white, and pointed her other hand at him.

Chase immediately turned and leaped behind the nearest building. A bright white bolt hit the corner near where he’d been standing, breaking off the stone, showering him in pieces of broken wall. “Shit!” he shouted, covering his face just in time to block a fist-sized stone piece.

“We need to get out of here!” Jackie yelled. Chase peeked around the broken corner at the sound of it. The man in the black tunic and the woman who’d been fighting Jackie were now helping the other, strange woman stand, supporting her. A similar situation was happening with his own companions. Jackie and Kenneth were helping Elin up, as she weakly directed streams of water from the well onto the burning buildings nearby: not fully putting them out, but making the flames smaller.

Jackie saw Chase peeking around the corner. He pointed to the left. Chase nodded, and ran, heading away from the burning.

Townfolk were also running, but they were heading towards the burning, many of them carrying buckets. Chase noted them briefly, scanning the area for Jackie and the others. He spotted them a few minutes later, heading towards the three of them as Jackie and Kenneth carried Elin between them. The moment he was within earshot, he shouted, “What happened?!”

“Later,” Jackie said, tilting his head towards the edge of town.

“Oh. Yes.” Chase glanced back towards the blaze, uncertain. The townsfolk could handle that, right? They seemed prepared. And it wasn’t that big a fire, comparatively. But still, he felt uneasy as the four of them turned away.

They reached the edge of the forest and kept going. And going. Once the town was out of sight and the trees were close together once again, they relaxed a bit. Kenneth started digging through his bag, pulling out small bottles of salves. Elin sat by one of the trees, wincing at the burn that covered most of her shoulder. Jackie sheathed the sword he still had out and breathed a sigh of relief. “That was bad.”

“What was all that about?” Chase asked once again. “You were in town for one minute and suddenly there was fire!”

Jackie gave him an odd look. “Um...we were in there for much longer than one minute.”

Really? It hadn’t seemed like it. “Well, still, what happened?”

Jackie’s expression darkened. “They knew we were coming. I’m not sure how, but they did. Maybe they saw some of our scouts a while ago? Either way, we went into town and started searching. We looked over the whole place a couple times, but didn’t go inside anywhere. Then, out of nowhere, they burst out of one of the houses and attacked us. That wizard started throwing fire everywhere, it was a disaster.”

“A wizard, huh?” Chase whistled. “Wow. Who was she? They called her Lady—”

“Tinechroí,” Jackie muttered, bitterness lining his expression and voice.

“Um...well, yes. So she’s a noble.”

“That’s not surprising, the King has many of them in his pocket.” Jackie sighed. “Thank the elders you decided to stay in the forest. Though it must’ve gotten boring, being out there for that long by yourself.”

“...no, it wasn’t, not really,” Chase said uncertainly. “To be honest, I...lost track of time. How long were you in town?”

“Not sure. An hour, maybe.”

“Ah.” That...didn’t make sense. Chase could’ve sworn he was only waiting for a minute. But...in that minute, the deer had done something strange to him. Was it possible that more time had passed, and he just didn’t realize? “Well, thank the elders.” Quite literally, perhaps.

Jackie nodded. “We should start heading back now. I think Elin is stable now, but we should get her back to Wyvernlair quickly, just in case.”

“Yea. Let’s go.”

As they headed back, Chase remained quiet, thinking about his encounter with the deer. This was the second time he’d seen it, and the first time had been the night Hilltown burned. What did the deer want? What was its goal?

He stayed silent for the entirety of the three day journey back to camp.