#was thinking about taking commissions at some point so stay tuned!!

[urkuri]

roman roy brain explosion eulogy

(I have inprnt btw!)   

[hyunsvngs]

wc: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. this is a piss fic, unrealistic shower sex, PISS like seriously, oral (m & f rec), inexperienced reader, switchy jisung (he's whiny), dirty talk, unprotected sex & creampie, brief hair pulling, brief choking

a/n: and when i said my return to stayblr would be a piss fic i meant it! AND THANK U TO 🐇 anon for commissioning this u are a babe <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s patient. He was ever so patient with you all along, actually, hands roaming your sides hesitantly over your t-shirt when you first made out. You had to physically move his palms onto your skin for him to take some initiative - “I’m not a virgin, Jisung,” you’d squeal, legs thrashing in protest.

You've finally gotten to the point where Jisung will touch you. He tries to initiate sex more often than not now, and you’re a happy recipient. There’s never once been a situation around him where you haven’t wanted to fuck him - he’s a beautiful person, to say the least, with his big round eyes and even bigger cock. He’s delicious.

In fact, you’re sure you’ve gotten to the peak of your sexual relationship with him until you hear the bathroom door open. It’s a normal day, save for the fact that you were about two seconds from pissing in the shower after skipping that step. It’ll save time, you can just do it in the shower - until you hear the rustling of clothes, a sweet tune being hummed, and then the shower curtain is being pulled back to reveal your honey-skinned boyfriend.

He crowds behind you in the shower, and you’re left with wide eyes. Skipping your pre-shower pee on the toilet is one thing, but you’re getting a little desperate now and you’d thought you could just let it go in the shower. Now, your boyfriend is naked, pressed against you with his nose brushing up against your neck. His hands trace your sides absentmindedly, dipping down to stroke over your tummy. His hair is already damp from the water, and it curls inwards to frame his face, tickling your skin. 

“Jisung…”

He hums, pressing a kiss into your neck. “Do you want me to get out, baby?”

You shake your head. You don’t. You don’t think you’d ever not want him around you, especially not naked. “It’s not that.”

“Let me help you relax, my baby. Can I?”

You’re getting desperate to pee now. In lieu of words you nod, shaky, and he reaches for your shower gel. Instead of squirting it on your loofah, he dribbles it straight into his hands, and the feeling of his wet, soapy palms on your back is more than relaxing. His hands run down your skin, over your shoulders, just barely tracing your breasts, and then he presses down on your tummy just that little bit firmer. 

Oh God. You feel a drop run down your thigh, and it definitely was not the water. 

“Jisungie,” You say, and Jisung pauses. He hums in response, and you sigh. “I just- I needed to pee, so I was just gonna-“

His hands pause. “Here?” Jisung says. His voice is shaky too now, and you realize his fingertips are starting to dig into your sides. “Oh. Oh, right.”

It’s a little awkward. The shower still beats down on you both, and Jisung’s hold just gets tighter and tighter until - oh. He’s hard. It presses against your ass, thick and throbbing, and you feel him shuffle a little to try and avoid you feeling it.

“You’re… hard?”

“You’re naked in front of me talking about- about peeing,” He whispers, and when you turn to him his cheeks are red. He scrunches his eyes shut, looks to be willing his erection away, but it stays unflagging. You move fully to face him, hands moving to his shoulders. “I- Baby. Would you let me see? Do it- do it on me. Or just-”

“Jisung,” You gasp, eyes wide. He’s into that? That’s new. It’s new even for your time of sexual exploration, and it has you shifting from one foot to another in decision. Can you? Will you? You realise that yeah, you will.

“I’m sorry,” He blushes. He’s still hard, but embarrassed - you know that just makes him even hornier. You’re going to do it. 

“I’ll do it. For you.”

He immediately drops to his knees.

“Will you? Oh, will you, jagi?” You’re not sure you could say an outright no. You’re nervous, sure, with how new this all is, but the water from the shower is beating down on Jisung’s honey skin so rapidly that well - you want to see him get even wetter. You let out a shaky breath, thighs trembling, and then you’re nodding. “Oh, baby. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-“

“Jisungie,” You say, voice timid. He nods in response, runs his hands up your inner thighs, palms dewy with the water. His round eyes earnestly look up at you, bottom lip quivering. He looks innocent, and it’s almost as if he didn’t drop to his knees immediately upon hearing that you needed to pee. “Help me, honey. Help me relax.”

He has to. He dives in, mouth wrapping around your clit, and you let him nudge your thighs apart with his fingertips. It’s a little precarious, balancing in the shower, but the suction around the pudge of your clit has you gripping onto the shower curtain with trembling hands. Jisung’s nothing if not a good eater, and he always finishes his meal - his tongue dips down to your slit with a deep groan at your taste. 

“Y’ready for me now?” He murmurs into you, the vibrations making you whine. He pulls back and reaches up with a firm hand, pressing on the base of your tummy, just where your bladder rests. His eyes flicker up to you, intense and dark, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen this look on his face before. He looks downright debauched, waiting for your piss and still trying to take control of the situation like he always does. “Be a good girl for Sungie, yeah? Piss all over me. Get me dirty with it.”

“Fu-uck,” You whimper, lips falling apart. You’re heaving wet breaths, body still subconsciously fighting against the urge to let go, but a firmer press on your bladder has the trickle starting without your permission. 

“Oh, baby, yeah,” Jisung keens, his other hand moving to rub circles against your clit. When he pulls your mound backwards with his thumb, the stream erupting from your pussy only gets stronger, hitting Jisung’s chest and soaking his skin with it. It trickles down his skin, eventually hitting the smattering of his pubic hair and the base of his cock, and Jisung whines with it. “Oh my god, baby, you’re so sexy. More! More, give me more, pleasepleaseplease, be a good girl for me.”

“I am being good, Jisungie,” You moan, the relief of your bladder emptying all too satisfying. It just keeps coming, and when the stream finally trickles out, Jisung surges forward to wrap his lips around your clit. A sharp suck has you gasping out a whine, gripping onto the mess of his hair, but he can only flick his tongue over you once, twice before he’s sliding up onto his feet.

He crowds into your space once again. He turns you around, your back facing him, and the whole situation is so precarious that you’re terrified that one of you is going to break a limb. Your pussy is so wet at this point though that you know you’re going to let him take you here, just like this, raw and messy.

“Bend over,” He ushers, forcing you into the corner of the shower. The shelves containing all of your toiletries rattle with the harshness of his movement, and you squeal, gripping onto the sides.

“Jisungie, baby, I’ll fall-”

“You won’t. I-I’ve got you, jagi, I promise,” Jisung insists, and he crowds behind you once again. With a swift movement, his cockhead presses against your hole, still slick from the mess you’ve made all over him, and he uses one hand to brush it through your folds teasingly. “Do you want it? F-fuck, baby, tell me.”

Your head is spinning. Of course you want it. He always fills you up so good, and he’s so caring, so thorough with his touches. “I want it. I want it, I want it, I want it, please-”

He sinks inside of you with his own sharp keen. He’s so thick that the stretch has you reaching out to clutch onto the built-in shelves tighter, your lips parting in a deep sigh. “That’s it. G-god, that’s it, Jisung.”

“Yeah? You like it?” He moans, and you see his hand emerge over your head. He grips onto the shelf for leverage, and then his hips start to smack into your ass, eager and messy. You groan out for him regardless, with his length filling you up just right. “That’s it, yeah? You l-like it like that, baby?”

“Yes, yeah, Jisungie, I like it like that,” You nod eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. You hear his feet hit the floor in an effort to reposition himself, and when he manages to get better footing, the next thrust is so sharp it has you crying out. “Ah! There, therethere, please, please!”

He groans in pleasure at the change of angle, his cock hitting you deeper, and his hand moves upwards to tug at your hair. The movement bends your back to rest your head on his shoulder, and the water from the shower is completely forgotten - it could be ice cold now for all that you know. He’s gripping at your waist, hips, and your tits, pulling you back onto his thrusts and shaking every bottle on the shelf, and all you can do is whine and moan through every thrust. 

“It’s so- it’s so good,” Jisung huffs, head lolling against yours, and you have to turn and look at him. His hair is positively soaked by now, dripping down his face, and his lips stay parted, moans and whines tumbling out from deep inside his chest. “T-thank you, baby. For pissin’ on me, and- and this, fuck, your pussy is so fucking good, so tight, so wet.”

His voice is strained, garbled as if he’s trying to force the words out, and you gasp out at a particularly rough thrust. His thrusts are getting more uneven, less precise, and his teeth start to nibble at your shoulder. 

All of a sudden, you feel a familiar wetness flood inside of you. Jisung’s orgasm is sudden and intense, his hips stilling as he empties deep inside your pussy, his muscles trembling and his breath ragged.

“F-fuck,” He moans, pushing at your ass to slide you away from him. “Baby, on your knees. Get on your knees, please, you gotta keep it hard.”

He has at least part of his mind still intact, you assume, because he flicks the switch on the shower and leaves you both standing there drenched. Still, you don’t let it deter you, dropping to your knees to suckle at his soaking wet length. He’s covered in a mixture of his cum and your wetness, and you moan when the flavour hits your tongue, bobbing your head on half of his shaft.

“Yeah, like that, just-” He cuts himself off with a grunt, pushing your head down further on him. It makes your eyes water, but you persevere, suckling on his length. He’s getting into a headspace that he doesn’t get into often - he’s being rougher with you, more eager to take, take, take, and you can only let him. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck, hnng, baby, baby, suck on it. Please, please, pleasepleaseplease!”

It did work, at least. His erection stays unflagging even after him cumming inside of you, and he lets you play around for a little - you swirl your tongue around his cockhead, suckling on it a little, but it’s your tongue dipping into his piss slit that has him yanking at your hair.

Jisung pulls you upwards, tongue immediately pressing between the seam of your lips while his hand wraps in your hair, and then he’s ushering you out of the shower. “Over the sink,” He says, breathless, his eyes round and wide. “Please, baby. Let me fuck you over the sink.”

“O-Okay,” You respond, voice hoarse, but it’s a quick movement for you to hop out and bend over for him. Jisung’s back inside of you in his own swift movement, cock stretching you out once more, and the hand that swats at your ass makes you gasp. “Jisung-”

“I have to make this pussy cum,” Jisung rambles, and you nod eagerly, hands propping you up on the sink. You see your reflection in the mirror, Jisung’s hair soaking wet and water dripping down his chest, and the sight makes you clench down hard. He gasps, sharp and loud. “Ah! Ah, baby, careful, lemme- lemme make you cum, please. Been- been so good for me, pissin’ so nice and then sucking me- let me make you cum, let me-”

“Harder,” You insist, fingers wrapping around the edge. Your gaze is focused on the mirror, on the way your bodies move together while Jisung fucks into you. He listens to you, hips slapping against your ass harder while also fucking into you deeper, which is just as hard to handle. His cockhead kisses the bottom of your cervix with every thrust, making your eyes roll back into your head with a sharp keen. “Yeah! Yeah, yesyesyes, baby, Jisungie, more, just a little- a little more, I’ll cum, I’ll cum-”

“Yeah?” He groans, dragging you upwards with a firm hand around your throat. His lips press a kiss into your hairline, quick and swift, and you see his face appear right next to yours into the mirror. It’s then you notice how fucked out you look - your lips are swollen, hair wet and messy, drool slicking the bottom of your chin. “Cum for me, baby. G-good girls cum nice and easy, just like this, right? C’mon, jagi, cum nice and pretty for me.”

You can’t help it. It only takes a few more thrusts, well-calculated and deep enough inside you to have you shaking, and you’re coming apart around him. You feel his cock get wetter with your release and it’s as if he can’t help himself either - he presses his hips against you, firm and deep, and he’s filling you with his cum for the second time. It’s less than it was the first time, but it still fills you with warmth and makes you whine, hips trying to buck backwards for more, more, more.

“So pretty, jagi,” Jisung whispers, pecking your cheek with a way too innocent kiss. You groan in response, body feeling completely worn out, and he slides his softening length out of you with a whine.

“We’re going to have to shower again,” You murmur, half-collapsed on the sink. Jisung only coos, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling into your back.

“Let’s take a bath this time, jagi,” He suggests, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss into your skin. “That way we can lay down this time when we fuck. Duh.”

“Jisung!” You shriek, swatting at him. He giggles in response, scurrying off to flick at the taps of the bath. You huff, slowly peeling your body off of the ceramic. “Don’t be so crude.”

“Baby, you just pissed on me. I think that’s, like, the definition of crude. You're crude.”

[felinecyan]

Wonders of the Skies

[Keigo Takami x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When he finds himself bored, stressed, or tired… he seeks comfort in not only the stars, but his favorite spot to relax, right on your balcony.

WC: 3634

Category: Fluff, Pre-Rise of Villains arc

Since my other fics are filled with angsty drama (and my birthday is officially four days away 🗣️), I decided to be nice and drop one that’s full-on fluff. Enjoy ☺️

『••✎••』

The stars being out should've been his first sign. The clouds were thin, the night sky clear of any smog, and the wind was still. A beautiful night. The perfect night for such a tiring day.

He was all over the place with his schedule. Between patrolling his section of Musutafu, taking reports from his informants, and training his little fledgling, he could barely catch a breath. Not to mention, he had to deal with the paperwork that came from the Hero Commission.

So he was exhausted. He needed a breather—something to make his body relax after being worked so hard. So, wishful thinking and a bit of insomnia were the perfect excuse for him not to enter the warmth of his apartment.

And there you were. Standing on your balcony, leaning against the railing as the soft breeze of the night blew. The moon's soft glow reflected against your skin and hair. The way the light framed your face and illuminated your skin was nothing short of beautiful.

You had no idea he was there, standing on the rooftop just above your apartment building. He always did this. On nights when he felt the weight of his responsibilities too much, he would come to you.

Your apartment was one of the tallest buildings in his area. It gave him a bird's eye view of everything below, the perfect vantage point for him to keep a watchful eye out for anything suspicious.

It was just an added bonus that you were here.

The first time he came here, he only stayed for a couple of minutes before returning home. He was just checking the place out and getting familiar with the area. Then, he found you.

He saw how you leaned on the railing of the balcony, gazing at the night sky and humming along to a tune only you knew. It was something he was familiar with, something that soothed his mind, but he couldn't figure out where he had heard it before.

So, he asked you in the most subtle way possible.

"What are you humming?"

And the reaction you had was enough to make his forced smile genuine.

Thinking back on it, he probably shouldn't have popped up like a damn jack-in-the-box. You were peacefully enjoying the night sky until you looked up into his upside-down face and nearly had a heart attack.

His first meeting with you was definitely memorable.

He remembered the look of absolute shock and fear as you stared into his face. And then he remembered the moment your expression shifted into one of irritation as you scolded him for scaring the hell out of you.

You, scolding the number three hero for scaring you. You had some serious guts to do something like that.

That's what intrigued him about you in the first place. It was a nice refresher when comparing you to his... "fanbase."

But he was getting off-topic.

As he gazed at you from the rooftop, he felt his eyes soften. It was odd how you had this effect on him.

Just looking at you made him feel relaxed. Not to mention your voice, how sweet and comforting it sounded. Even if you were just humming, you still held his attention.

He could listen to your voice all day.

He let out a quiet sigh as he leaned on the railing of the roof. From up here, you seemed so small, almost insignificant compared to the size of his city. But, in his mind, you were much bigger than the city itself.

He couldn't quite explain why, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Your presence alone was enough to make him feel at peace.

With one final sigh, he hopped down from the rooftop. He wasn't properly wearing his headpiece, but it was fine. He didn't mind the whistle of the wind in his ears. It was only for a few seconds, anyway.

In no time at all, right before he hit the ground, he snapped open his wings and caught the wind. He watched as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his boots thudding against your metal railing. You spun around, looking like a deer caught in headlights, only to glare at him when you realized who was the cause of your heart stopping.

"Jeez, Hawks," You placed a hand over your chest. "A warning would be nice."

He chuckled as he landed in front of you. His wings were open wide, the tips of his feathers brushing against the edges of the railing. "But then I wouldn't get to see that adorable look on your face."

You huffed and crossed your arms, your glare still in place. It didn't seem like you were really mad, though. There was a twitch in your lips that made him smirk.

There were some things he could really struggle with, but deciphering all the emotions and expressions on people's faces? That was easy. It was something he needed to learn when he was younger, and while he might not use the skill often, he was still happy to have it.

It helped him get a read on people, and more importantly, it helped him know villains and criminals.

And, occasionally, it helped him figure out what the hell you were thinking.

"How was work today?" You asked, already forgiving him for scaring the shit out of you. "Busy?"

"Eh, the usual," he waved off. "Patrol was a breeze. A couple of muggers were caught stealing purses, but that's about it."

He watched as you tilted your head, your brow raised. "You're not telling me the whole story."

"Well, what can I say?" He shrugged, finally hopping down from the railing. He stretched out his wings and folded them against his back. "I'm a man of many talents. Gotta keep some of the fun parts to myself, right?"

You scoffed, opting to stare at the city below rather than give him a response. He didn't mind, though. He liked looking at you, whether it was your face or the scenery.

"What about you?" He asked, stepping beside you. "How was your day?"

"Good." You sighed. "I'm happy it's Friday. I needed this break."

He chuckled. "Don't we all?"

Though, he never really took breaks. Well, not proper ones, at least. The closest he got to a vacation was going undercover for an extended period of time. But that was far from relaxing.

"I had to set up a surprise party for one of my friends," you said, a tired smile on your face. "Well, technically, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. He's been through a lot recently, so I thought it would help lift his spirits a bit."

"Sounds like a fun time," Keigo mused, a smile on his face. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, his birthday," you answered, your gaze shifting back to the city. "I've never celebrated his birthday, so this is the first time I've ever thrown a party for him. I'm honestly a bit worried that it won't be good."

Keigo hummed and turned to face the city. "I'm sure he'll love it. It's the thought that counts, right?"

"Yeah." You laughed quietly, looking at the sky. "I just hope he'll enjoy it."

For a few moments, silence enveloped the two of you. A comfortable one, but still silence. It gave him the time to appreciate the view in front of him.

Sure, the city lights were bright, and the air was a little stuffy, but the moon's light and the stars' glittering made it worth it, especially when they were reflected in your eyes.

You looked ethereal.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly," you said softly as if the sound of your voice would disturb the stars. "What it would feel like to soar through the sky. Just imagine the view."

He looked at you, watching your expression carefully. You didn't notice his eyes on you. Instead, your attention was on the sky, your gaze full of wonder.

He hummed, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Want a demonstration?"

You snapped your head towards him, your eyes wide. "What?"

Without saying a word, he removed the headset against his neck and slid it back where it belonged. He turned his body towards yours and spread his wings, stretching them out. He then reached his hands out to you, his smile growing wider.

"What are you doing?" You asked, eyeing his hands cautiously.

"What do you think?" He retorted. "Come on, take my hands. I won't drop you."

Your expression didn't change. If anything, your wariness grew.

"What?" He teased. "Scared? You don't trust me?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You know, it's times like these that make me question our friendship."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, his smile remaining. "Just take my hands. It'll be fun."

For a second, you continued to stare at him. And then you let out a sigh.

"Okay, fine," you muttered, grabbing onto his hands. He figured you probably thought you'd have time to relax and prep yourself, but no. He couldn't be here for too long, and this bird never liked being cooped up.

He only waited long enough to ensure you wouldn't fly out of his arms. Then, with a mighty flap of his wings, he pushed the two of you into the air.

The look on your face was priceless.

He'd seen fear before. Hell, he'd experienced it plenty of times. But seeing it on you? It was hilarious.

Your grip on his arms tightened, and your legs flailed around in a desperate attempt to find something to hold onto. And even though he couldn't hear you, the way your mouth opened was enough to tell him that you were screaming.

His stomach hurt from how hard he was laughing. He wanted to look at your face again, but he didn't want to kill the two of you. So, he opted to keep his focus on the sky above and the city below.

He made sure to avoid the clouds and kept his wings steady. You wanted a demonstration, right? Well, a demonstration you'd get.

He glided through the sky, letting his feathers do the hard work. And while he had been in the air countless times, this felt different.

Usually, when he was flying, it was because he had to save someone. He didn't have time to appreciate the view or take in the fresh air. And even when he had some spare time, he would spend it napping or taking reports from his informants.

But now, he could relax. No emergencies, no patrols, no paperwork, and no informants. It was just him, the stars, and you.

And for once, he felt like a regular guy.

He wasn't Hawks, the number two hero, or the kid with too many feathers and not enough time. He was just a regular guy—someone who could fly and who could show the wonders of the skies.

"You can open your eyes now," he called out, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard. Of course, he wasn't completely sure they were even closed in the first place, but you were clutching his arms pretty tightly, so he figured it was safe to assume they were.

Slowly, he felt your grip loosen. Your legs stopped moving, and your head turned away from him. Your eyes were closed, and he watched as you hesitantly cracked them open.

He didn't say anything as you stared at the sky, your eyes wide. The look on your face was one he would treasure forever.

Your mouth was parted slightly, your gaze was full of wonder and amazement, and your expression was a mixture of surprise and joy.

It was like a child seeing a new toy.

"Woah," you breathed out, your grip loosening more. "This is... wow."

"Right?" He laughed. "Oh, here, let me lend you some help."

Before you could ask what he meant, the pair of visors against his head detached themselves and flew in front of you. As quickly as they were removed, they were replaced, and he smiled at the gasp that left your lips.

"The wind gets annoying," he explained, a smirk on his face. "This makes it easier to enjoy the view."

"Don't you need them? To see, I mean."

Aw, concerned for his safety. How cute.

"Nah," he waved off, "I've done this plenty of times. My eyes are used to the wind."

You hummed, and then your arms moved up and rested on his shoulders. Your legs stopped flailing around, and your body leaned closer to his. He was glad you did. You were starting to slip.

"Is this better?" He teased, a grin on his face. "No more screaming, I hope?"

You glared at him, though there was no heat behind it. "You know what? Yes, it is. Now, can we please focus on the view?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. We can."

After a few minutes, your gaze finally left him and settled on the view. He took the chance to look at you, to memorize your features, and to burn the image of you in his mind.

He didn't need the view you needed; he's seen it plenty of times. Instead, he wanted the view he'd never get a chance to see—the one where you were enjoying yourself.

He wished the moment would last longer so that he would have more time to put a smile on your face, but the time flew by. Plus, he needed at least two hours of rest, and it was already close to midnight.

So, he slowly descended back onto the balcony, landing softly and gently. Disappointment was clear on your face as you gave him back his visors and looked at the sky longingly.

He understood. It was the same feeling he had whenever he landed. It was nice being in the sky. It was nice not having a care in the world.

It was nice being free.

"Thanks for that," you said, turning to him with a small smile. "That was amazing."

"You're welcome," he smiled, taking off his headset and resting it against his neck once again. "Hate to ruin the mood, but unfortunately, duty calls."

"Already?" You frowned, "At least stay for some tea."

He would love to, but he really shouldn't. He was already pushing his limit as it was.

"Sorry, doll," he sighed. "Another time, okay?"

You let out a quiet hum and looked at the city. He followed your gaze, and for a second, the two of you stood in silence.

He couldn't believe it's been three months.

It felt like yesterday that he found you on the balcony. Now, you were standing in front of him, offering him a drink, and he was about to reject it.

But he couldn't, not today. Today, he needed to leave.

With a sigh, he turned towards the railing and stretched his wings. His boots scraped against the metal bars as he climbed up, his feet finding purchase on the railing. He looked back at you, his wings twitching as he prepared to take flight.

"Wait!"

He froze, his body turning towards you. He cocked his head to the side and watched as you walked towards him.

"Before you go," you said, a hand reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a key, its surface shining brightly from the moon's light. "I wanted to give you this."

He felt his heart drop as he took the key. He looked down at it, his fingers grazing over the metal.

"That... surprise party I mentioned earlier? I'm going to change it to a dinner," you said, giving him a gentle smile. "I feel it aligns with your schedule better; more of a chance for you to drop by, you know?"

He felt his eyes soften, and a small smile formed on his face.

"Why change the entire birthday party because of me?" He asked, raising a brow. "Shouldn't it be what your friend wants? Since it's his special day and all that?"

"Well, yeah, but—" You hesitated. "I mean... don't you look at dates? You know what date it's going to be in... I don't know, five minutes?"

He raised a brow, the smile on his face widening.

"It's going to be the 28th of December."

"Yes, and...?"

You blinked.

"What do you mean, and?"

"Do you want the exact time and minute, too?"

Your lips were parted, and your eyes were wide. He couldn't help but laugh at the look on your face. You looked so shocked, so surprised.

"I can't believe it," you mumbled, your mouth finally closing. "So, you're telling me that it is so insignificant that you can't even remember the date of your own birthday?"

That smile of his... faltered.

His heart dropped.

His stomach twisted.

His blood turned cold.

What did you just say?

"My birthday?" He croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. Oh, how his voice shook.

"Yes, your birthday," you replied. "When's the last time you celebrated it?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind was blank. He couldn't remember. Of course, he knew what tomorrow was; he always made himself aware of the date, but what about the day itself? He didn't have a clue.

He'd never celebrated his birthday, not since the Commission took him. There wasn't a reason to, and there wasn't a need for it. You had asked him when it was three weeks ago, and he remembered every conversation and figured it was plain curiosity.

He thought you'd forgotten.

"Are you okay?"

His eyes snapped towards yours, and the concern in them almost made him fall. Almost.

"I... got it right, didn't I?" You whispered, taking a step towards him. "I didn't just mess up your date, did I?"

"No, no, you didn't." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "It's just that... well, I haven't celebrated my birthday in a long time. I... honestly didn't think I was missing out on much."

You hummed and nodded to the key in his hand. "Well, how about we start now?"

He looked down at the object in his hands. His fingers brushed over the smooth surface. It felt warm against his skin, almost as if it were inviting him.

"Tomorrow, we'll celebrate your birthday," you continued, your voice soft and comforting. "Whenever you can. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to make it, and I'm okay with that, but if you can, then that's great."

"I—" He looked at you, his eyes shining. "How'd you know I'd visit tonight?"

You snorted, a small smile on your face. "You always visit on Tuesdays. I didn't have high hopes, but I'm glad I did it anyway."

He was stunned. Speechless, even. He didn't even realize every time he visited was on a Tuesday. Hell, he didn't even know he had a schedule.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" You nudged him gently. "Go home. Get some rest. Stop by tomorrow if you can, or just enjoy the day. Either way, happy birthday, Hawks."

His wings twitched, and a warmth filled his chest. His eyes softened, and his lips curved upwards.

"Keigo."

You faltered, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Huh? You want me to leave?"

"...What?"

"You said 'okay go' so—"

"No, no, that's not what I—" He let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm saying, Keigo. Call me Keigo."

"...what?"

He was starting to regret this.

"My name," he clarified, looking at you. "Keigo Takami. That's my name. You don't have to call me Hawks, not if I can call you by your name. Just... uh, don't go around calling me that, you know? Keep it a secret. Between us. Yeah?"

He cringed. God, he sounded so awkward.

But it didn't matter because you evidently didn't hear the stutters and the hesitation in his voice. Or maybe you did and were nice enough not to point it out.

Either way, a wide smile was on your face, and your eyes were bright.

"Happy birthday then, Keigo."

Oh, he wasn't used to this. Hearing his name was a new experience. It's been so long, so, so long since he heard it. Honestly, it's been so long, and his brain was trying so hard to connect his name to him.

He missed hearing his name.

He loved his name.

"Thank you," he smiled, and it was the most genuine smile he's ever made.

And then he jumped. His wings spread, and he took off into the night. But unlike the other times, he didn't go straight home.

Instead, he went higher, higher, higher. Until he couldn't, and then he stopped, his gaze fixed on the sky.

There were so many stars, and the moon was big and bright. The wind was harsh, but he didn't mind. He was used to it, after all.

But what he wasn't used to was the warmth in his chest. It was foreign and strange, but he liked it. He liked the way it made him feel, and he wanted to keep it forever.

And so, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And, without a doubt in his mind, he said the words that were stuck in his throat for so long.

"Happy birthday to me."

Because not even two minutes after he left, on the 28th of December, 00:01 AM, he received a text from you:

The key wasn't your actual gift, by the way, so make sure you eventually swing by, whether it be tomorrow or next week.

Again, happy birthday!

And then warm feeling in his chest only grew

[sincerlycas]

try me.

summary: y/n’s mouth has no filter, so when she decides to publicly embarrass eren at a party, he doesn’t take it lightly.

warnings: brat y/n, bad bitch black reader, hair pulling, choking, humiliation, degradation, rough sex, slight hate fucking, spitting, 69 position, spanking, slapping, marking, drugs (I say za instead of weed and shit), mature scenes, etc.

commission for: @purfi-art 🤍

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

you were bored. absolutely fucking bored. there was literally no reason for you to be at this party, yeah you danced and shook ass to bop ass songs then took a drink but that’s about it. matter of fact, the only reason you here was because of your bum ass nigga eren. he was here to support and supply his friend with the za. sitting down on the seat while fixing your crop top that was holding your well sat boobs. eren was nowhere in sight, actually he was but you preferred to not look at him since he was speaking to a girl in the ear but you knew he was trying to be secretive with selling.

sighing your took a sip of the vodka and moved your copper ginger body wave lace out of the way. finally eren came to sit next to you with his group around you as well. all of them talking about random shit that you didn’t give one fuck, two fucks, any fucks about. one of your friends who came to the party tapped your shoulder and hugged you immediately as she saw you. returning the hug you told her to sit next to you.

she was basically the only person who talked to you the entire party, not even eren spoke a word to you because you know his bitch ass would say “I’m working right now later.” you swear you hated his ass for even dragging you here. while talking to your friend and catching up you felt a grip on your thigh so you looked down to see it was eren. oh so he can touch you and shit but not speak to you? bitch you were done !!

slapping his hand off your thigh with full disrespect as you turned back to talk to your friend. this caused nervous glancing from the group between you and eren but you couldn’t give a fuck. so you decided to let it out and irritate eren by talking about him to your friend when he’s literally next to you. “bro this nigga is so weird, how tf you gone bring me to a party and not even talk or spare me a glance like the fuck?!” eren wasn’t paying attention to you so he didn’t really hear the conversation but some did as he continued talking to jean.

“but he can be all up on girl’s whispering and shit then try to touch me and not say a damn word too?! fuck no nigga you must got me mixed up with another bitch that just stay mute- he must think I’m one of his hoes that’s why.” your friend chuckled as she was nodding and understanding your frustration.

finally eren heard what you were saying as he was drinking from his red solo cup. side eyeing you while giving you a glare was all he did as he set the cup back down. he went to open his mouth to saying something by putting your hand in his face while still looking at your friend. “look at this trick broo” turning your hand from flat to directing your thumb at him to show your friend

“he can sip cups and talk to his friends huh? matter of fact he can go sip on another bitch pussy like I give a fuck that’s his specialty.” now this is what caused the whole entire group you were sitting with to tune into the conversation and stop what you’re doing. eren grabbed your hand that was pointing at him and tugged on it to make you look at him.

“y/n-“ cutting him off before he said anything you turned to face him while putting your long acrylic finger in his face “nigga shut the fuck up ion wanna hear it, was I talking to you? no the hell I wasn’t fuck nigga, speak when you’re spoken to the fuck.” pushing his face away you turned to face your friend again seeing her ‘ouu’.

right when you were going to speak eren turned you to face him forcefully raising his voice in a higher octave but not high enough to cause an disruption to other people. “stop talking out your chest to your friend about me say it to my fucking face since you big a bold.” his group was eyeing you guys quietly. getting up out of his hold and standing over him giving anyone who was in front of him a juicy view of your ass in your cargo shorts.

“you want me to say sum to your face?!” “speak with your chest y/n!!” eren retorted back “alright bitch, your a bum. ass. nigga.” grabbing his drink he was so deliciously sipping on that had very little left and splashed on his face along with the cup. this caused a slight uproar as you got your bag and left.

eren was stunned as he ran his fingers through his hair tugging on it a little out of frustration. wiping his face with his hand he immediately got up speed walking behind. walking outside you went to open his car so you could leave after you snuck his keys since he was your ride. right when you were about to open it you felt a grip in your hair tugging you back harshly. “bitch come here.” eren held your hair as you tried to slap his hands away, he stared at you as he slammed your back against the car door.

“you think you hot shit for fucking embarrassing me bitch?! you really tried me today you ain’t never crossed the line with your bratty ass but today you did- get in the fucking car.” pushing you in the back seat as he put the back doors on child lock and went to the front seat and began speed driving toward the house. “eren let me the fuck out!! drop me off at my friends house!!” kicking at his seat taking your anger out on him. it’s not like you actually wanted him to let you out and turn you away you were just saying anything on top of your head.

on top of that this nigga was driving recklessly. you were screaming with all your might throwing profanities at him and slick remarks. eren was so done with your shit your shit so he screamed back “y/n l/n you better shut the fuck up before I swerve this bitch and kill us both I don’t give no fucks!!” slapping his hands on the steering wheel loudly. you were shocked at his threat but still you didn’t let up if anything you brought your hand to slap him across this face. eren restrained himself as he stayed quiet but that went up in flames when you calmed down and wen on your phone and mumbled a

“I should fucked your friend bro” you said that mostly to piss him off but connie is super fine.

eren finally made it to the house and opened your door and grabbed you and making a hurry to the door, getting inside, then making it to the room throwing you on the bed. taking his wet shirt off and his shoes. “y/n do you want to break up?” asking you that made your heart drop automatically you got on your knees on the bed and started apologizing. “e-eren I’m sorry for acting out, I promise I won’t do it again I swear please” you started tearing up since you’ve been with eren for three years, you couldn’t let him go.

then all you heard was laughing. gradually it got louder and louder. looking at him confused you swiped your tears “w-why are you laughing? what’s so damn funny?!” getting mad again, seriously your temper is short, but yeah you got mad again since he was literally just laughing at you. “you-“ stopping his sentence mid way to laugh again. this caused you to be self cautious and stay quiet. “you look pathetic baby.” walking towards you eren rubbed your face then your cheeks. him calling you pathetic while cooing at you made a sting in your heart out of embarrassment.

“it’s pathetic and dumb looking how you go and cause such a scene like that and embarrass me but once we reach home you’re groveling at me, do better mama.” patting your cheek a bit hard like they were close to being slaps eren backed away to let his words sink in. “ ‘ren..” staring at you while leaning on your guys dresser he tilted his head staring down at you.

“y/n I hope you know I deal with your mess because I love you. If you were to walk away from this relationship you wouldn’t find anyone who could love you like I do. even if you did it wouldn’t last since of how fucking bitchy you are, and if it does last just know I’ll be waiting to fuck it up.” walking back towards you again he choked you making you look up at him “so I’m telling you this with all disrespect, try me.”

you were tearing up even more from his words but the humiliation being even worse, you tried to find the words to say but you just stumbled. you looked away, you looked at anything besides eren. but you still weren’t going to go down like that, so you slapped his hands from his face with no avail since he had a vice grip on them. slapping on his shoulder, his neck, anything you can hit so he would let go of your face. you were yelling out profanities but all he did was stare at you smiling.

you got tired yet again and started huffing from all the the commotion you did. “you done.” eren asked while rubbing left over tears from your eyes. “…” you looked down as he finally let go of your face. “what I’m going to do is, I’m going to fuck you but it’s not gone be the ones where it’s slow and sweet because I’m not in a sweet mood so if you don’t want to you can tell me to stop.” staring at you eren was looking for signs of distress.

“I’m good..” I mean who would turn down sex from eren? plus by the way he is now he’ll be more gentle then he says he will.” wrong. he was going to show you he didn’t play nun of that. “alright choose a save word.” this caused you to look up at him with absolute confusion. a safe? what is he going- “-to do to me?!?” all he did was smile and wait. “uh..brownie” you mumbled. he nodded as he started sliding off your crop top then giving you a rough kiss.

you immediately responded by kissing back then laying on the bed as he got on top of you. eren really wanted to be nice and give you the nice prep he usually did but he was still in a sour mood (plus you guys had a quickie before the party). eren pulled your shorts down and threw them across the room. “take off your panties.” eren ordered as he watched you do what he said closely.

you slid them off slowly letting eren marvel at the string of slick connecting from your cunt to the panties then throwing them back. you shyed away from erens gaze that was so fixated on your wet cunt. you then heard a zipped being pulled down and turned back to see eren sliding his remains garments off letting his dick spring up to his stomach with a small thud. you reached your hand out to cop a feel but it was quickly slapped away harshly just like how you did to him at the party.

“familiar isn’t it?” he said as you slapped and nudged his tip against you clit. you moaned quietly from the slight stimulation he was giving you. then you felt a hard slap against your boobs causing you to reflexively cross your arm across your chest. “speak when you’re spoken too.” he spat out harshly while moving your hand away and tugging at your nipples. you moaned out while grasping onto his arm “i-im sorry..”

he simply hummed then slid in half way way but pulled out, this went on for a while as he groaned while you were moaning quietly but getting impatient. “eren hurry up-“ another slap was given to you but this time across your face. you rested up as you rubbed your face but clenched your legs from how it made you feel. “you take what I give you slut.”

he spat out as slammed in fully and shoved your legs to your shoulders. you could hardly breathe let alone speak, all you could was moan loudly when eren started hitting way to deep. it felt like he was digging you out or searching for something, this caused you to push at his shoulders repeatedly while mumbling incoherent “tss too muchhh~!! e-erenn too deep~”

you whined out as you were tearing up yet again. “its too much mama? I’m so sorry let me fix that.” he cooed while rubbing the side of your neck. you were relieved at what he said thinking he was going to let up but instead, he planted both in feet in the bed hovering over you completely and pushing his weight against you and started ramming down deeper into your cunt.

you squealed as you flew your hand to push his stomach back while screaming out, eren gripped your wrist tightly while holding it down to your stomach so you wouldn’t be able to move it. “take this dick, take this dick, take ittt~ fuckk~ it’s so tight~” he looked down between where you guys are connected seeing you already creating a white ring around him.

shaking your head and thrashing it back from how good he was hitting it in you. you started cumming with a shake in your legs, eren leaned down to your neck leaving bite marks and dark hickies on your neck. whimpering as he let go of your wrist letting you wrap your arms under his armpits letting your hands lay across his upper back. the pace suddenly got faster as he relentlessly hit your g spot hardly. dragging your nails down his back and muffling your moans into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you caging you In his arms to give himself more leverage into fucking you.

you started clenching your pussy up making eren wince you choke you yet again. “open that pussy that pussy mama.” you shook your head knowing if you did he’d go ham, biting his bottom lip with the vice grip you had around his dick. gripping your hair back eren made you stare in his eyes “open that pussy up before I tear this shit the fuck up!” he pulled out then flipped you on your stomach into a arch grabbing your arms folding them behind your back with one of his hands. he used the other to slap your cunt causing you to yelp and try to move away. slapping it again eren yanked you back and slid back in with a harsh thrust.

“keep trying me y/n, you gone open it up” spreading your ass open eren spat down onto your other hole then shoved his thumb inside using it as a way to tug you back into him. this caused you to yelp and accidentally push your pussy out like he wanted and he didn’t hesitate to take the chance to start his harsh pace back up again and killing that pussy.

“o-ohhh fuckkk~ rennn~ its sooo good~” you were trembling on them sheets endlessly, you didn’t know if you wanted more or less but what you did know is you’re finna start crawling out this room in the end. “yeaah~ gimme that pussy, gimme that pussy, gimme that pussyy~ FUCK~!” eren yelled out while throwing his head back from the vice grip you had around him and let alone the sounds your body’s were making. letting out a silent scream you squirted across the sheets, violently shaking then going slump on the bed getting out of your arch.

laying down on your back on top of you while peppering kisses on your shoulder and moving your hair aside eren rubbed your sides. “my baby is tired?” he asked innocently but you knew well that he was up to something. nodding your head with a yes thinking he would give you a break but instead he continued to slam down onto your cunt regardless if you were laying down. sliding his hand under your body to give tugs and pinches at your nipples. “uhh~ uhh~ ouuu~ ren it’s hurttss~ oh my goshh~” drooling onto the sheets you knew fat ma was tired so were you but dick by eren? a fine desert. “it hurts?~ want me to take some out hm~?”

shaking your head no because the feeling of being full was the bestt. it hurted but feel so goodd he was hitting the right spots, and quite frankly you didn’t give a fuck if that punani was tired she was gone take it. “noo~!! keep going~” eren smirked and pulled out slapping his tip repeatedly on your slit yet again. automatically you backed your ass up on him chasing the dick “put it back~ put it back~ put it back-”

mid rant eren shoved it back in gave them deep thrusts only, gripping them seats and shoving your head and the pillow yelping into it feeling like your about to come again. this time it felt so hard pressing against your stomach, it felt like you were going to pee. reeling your hand back pushing eren out and right when he was about to protest he’s met with a fountain of high spraying going out your cunt, you were squirting again but this time it was getting everywhere.

“u-u-uhhh uhhh~!! itss- AH SHITT~!!! ERENNN~!!” you didn’t even know what you were moaning out for but you knew your pussy was going through it. it took a good minute for the spraying to stop then you finally laid till panting loudly. “wow. come here mama~”

laying flat on his back eren pulled your ass to his face then stool his tongue out lapping at your folds. rolling your eyes back in your head you gripped on his thighs leaving scratch marks into them, you even broke your nail ! eren was having the time of his life back there even shaking his head side to side and giving a couple slaps to it, lifting up off his mouth when you felt like you were going to cum yet again and trying to move up, eren yanked you back and going back at it he even added a couple fingers into thrusting them harshly to bring you to your brink faster. clenching your thighs you screamed out and sprayed a bit all over his face then laid still.

“b-brownie~..” eren rubbed your face and kissed the side of your cheek “we were done anyways mama~” laying you down on top of him while giving you praises and upmost love “you lucky that dick good I would’ve pimped yo ass” mumbling out as he snuggled onto him, letting out a small moan when you felt eren slide in two fingers again “oh yeah~? you wanna keep trying me~?” “okayy okayy!!” sliding them out and sucking his fingers eren smiled.

“that’s what I thought.”

[umbra-loaf]

How I think Five would display affection throughout the seasons because season 4 is threatening me. (And I’m a hopeless romantic)

Season 1

·         Just fondly looking at you really. He doesn’t have time for much else, can you blame him?

·         He would wear himself out, kind of like when he passed out in the library. Would lay his head on your shoulder and fall asleep.

·         Glared at Klaus after he smacked him in the face to make it look like they were attacked, daring him to try that on you.

·         I feel like when he got back from the Commission fiasco he didn’t tell you about the shrapnel in his side, but when he wakes up from Grace’s care he just smiles as you gently scold him. “You’re an idiot, you could have DIED, i should just let you stay in bed-”

·         Unlike his siblings, who would grab each other by the back of their collar to stop each other from going somewhere, he doesn’t want to hurt you/choke you. Grabs you by the belt loop, stops you from going too far and doesn’t hurt you.

·         Got annoyed when Hazel just took the whole blender and chugged the drink, so he sighs and lets you drink from his if you were still thirsty.

·         Would mention dancing to old records with you when he thought you stopped the apocalypse.

·         Would not be too affectionate, as you can see. Mainly just small things because, again, saving the world...

 Season 2

·         He probably saw you with his siblings (depending on your preference on being an Umbrella/Commission agent before jumping back to 2019 with him) and therefore saw you do some damage to the Soviet soldiers, also knowing that you died in that nuke when Hazel transported him back before the attempt on Kennedy.

·         Even if he just saw you before making the jump, that kind of messed him up, so he basically interrogates Elliot after he mentions he’s been keeping track of “people that fell from a blue portal that are definitely aliens”.

·         If he doesn’t find you first, Diego is stuck having to listen to him go on about finding you.

·         Eventually has you by his side again, and he’s more clingy.

·         Hugs you tightly first, whispering how he missed you.

·         Would hold your hand more. Diego has his girlfriend, so why can’t Five hold his partners hand?

·         If you start going on a tangent about something that you learned while in Dallas? He’s listening, eyes on you and ears tuning everyone else out.

·         When he goes to the gathering that the Mystical Twelve have, he takes a moment to blend in, happily taking you by the hand and dancing a little bit with you, muttering about how it’s “been a while since we danced like this”.

·         Melts when you tend to his wounds after fighting the Swedes that same night. Just wide eyed, maybe muttering about how you could just “kiss it better” and smirking when you shake your head and smile.

·         Holds your waist when you scold him after going after Reginald, cleaning up his neck as he sits in a chair.

·         Wants you to stay with Elliot when he’s looking for the others. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because then he’ll know where you are, and you would have company, even if it is Elliot. (I love Elliot)

·         Not wearing Jeans/pants with belt loops in Dallas? Not going to stop him, he’ll grab your waist to make sure you don’t move. At this point he doesn’t care if the others see, the only one that isn’t dealing with real romance is Luther, anyway.

·         Doesn’t really want you to go with him and Luther to get the briefcase from himself, because the other you will also be there, and he doesn’t want both of you to go through the Paradox Psychosis.

·         You do anyway, and he just grumbles the whole time because he doesn’t want to do anything embarrassing.

·         Will glare when the older version of himself talks to you, makes Luther think he skipped all the other six steps and went straight to homicidal rage, honestly.

·         After that there’s no time for affection, not when The Handler has all her men running after you and shooting.

·         Would push you into the house and cover you with his body under the table.

·         Doesn’t want you fighting but knows you can handle it so he’s not fighting you to get to safety. If anything he’s glad you can take care of yourself.

·         When The Handler comes in and shoots everyone his first instinct was to grab you and shield you, but you had already moved to take most of the hits. As he comes to, nearly dead, he has tears in his eyes as he sees not only his siblings dead around him but you as well, hand over where his heart is. (Its so sad but romantic at the same time i will die on this hill)

·         When he rewinds time back, he’s determined to stop her from doing it again, and when Viktor finishes helping Harlan, he takes the time between that moment and the moment when you use the briefcase to just have you close.

·         Wraps his arms around you and just sighs into your shoulder.

·         Softly kisses your temple.

·         Tries to patch up any wounds you have with the supplies Sissy has.

·         He has you hold his hand when he opens the case to go back to 2019

 Season 3

·         Although things are different, Ben is alive and Umbrella Academy no longer exists, he thinks the timeline is perfect.

·         Talks of retirement with you and manages to convince Chet to give you an extra room. Don’t ask how, he probably found some way to do it.

·         This give him to opportunity to actually be a couple with you. Dancing? Hell yeah.

·         He doesn’t care about anything else now that he feels that everyone is safe. He’ll turn on the record player and take you by the hand and just dance with you, smiling and humming along with the music.

·         Would hold on to you in his sleep because damn it he hasn’t been able to actually sleep with you in 20 days.

·         Will wake up early and just look at you, just taking in your features.

·         If you wake up and catch him, he will blush, but he keeps smiling.

·         Wants to take his time getting ready for the day, his siblings are probably still passed out so what’s the rush? He will even offer to brush your hair/help you get ready.

·         Will stand next to you in the bathroom and brush his teeth with you.

·         When Klaus mentions going to Pennsylvania? Five is bringing you.

·         He WANTS to see the Ball of Twine with you.

·         Sits with you in the back of the car while Klaus deals with his mommy problem, only to sigh in frustration when the two of you realize that all the cows are missing.

·         Tells you he needs to go back to the commission with Lila to find out what’s happening.

·         He did not like what he learned.

·         (this is my own thing, but you can change it lol) You died to help stop the Kugel Blitz and Five is NOT happy. Not only is he missing a whole arm, but he doesn’t have you.

·         When he returns? Lila goes to hug Diego but Five doesn’t even stop to listen to Allison complain about how he had a case. He’s finding you.

·         Becomes even more affectionate knowing that the world is, once again, ending. And that you, tragically, died. He doesn’t want that. But he doesn’t want to save the world again.

·         When Luther and Sloane want to have their wedding? He thinks it’s dumb, of course, but he sees how excited you get and he can’t help but smile.

·         Can’t even speak to you in the beginning of the wedding, he just thinks you look amazing.

·         Pulls you to a table for the drinks and grabs some food he knows you’ll like, carrying them with him as he sits next to you.

·         We’ve seen drunk Five, and I give you this: Drunkenly in love Five. His speech to Luther is all about how he sees the spark that he has with you. It’s meant to tell everyone he’s happy for the two but really it just sounds like he’s confessing his love for you into a microphone so everyone in the world can hear it…because everyone in the world can.

·         Constantly will want to dance with you, slow dancing, two step, all the dancing.

·         When it comes to the slow songs he’s whispering things into your ear, just things in general too. “You look nice.” “Have you tried the fruit kebabs?” “Do you see that light over there? It’s really bright.” It doesn’t have to be sexual or anything, he’s just talking honestly.

·         Will cover your face in kisses the whole time too.

·         When he learns that they have no choice but to go to Hotel Oblivion he’s very…yeah.

·         Wants to keep you close at all times because even though he never told you what his other self told him, Lila knows and sees how worried he is about your safety. And she is too, she likes you, you got along in Dallas, you didn’t have any hard feelings against her. (I also love Lila)

·         Reginald…has other plans. He splits everyone up and keeps you with him and the Sparrows, but we all know he didn’t even go with them. You didn’t either.

·         He uses you to protect himself for when he rings that damn bell, only for Klaus to interrupt him. He has no choice but to ring it when he sees you running at him after he knocks Klaus out.

·         Five is worried the whole time, of course.

·         When everyone finally gets back together, he has you by the hand, checking you over.

·         The damn stars.

·         He sees them and then loses his arm, he’s not even worried about the blood that’s gushing from him, everything that his other self had told him was becoming true.

·         When he rushed for the final star, that damn thing’s blade was flying at him, and you had no choice. (Can you believe i can’t remember its name, but i remember the whole plot of the show)

·         He was stuck watching you bleeding and dying in front of him as his very life was being sucked out of him.

·         When Allison finally gives in and stops Reginald, Five falls to your side, exhausted, tears in his eyes.

·         Everything fell apart for him.

·         Then, Allison presses the button.

·         He’s in the courtyard with his siblings, minus Luther, Sloane, Allison, and you.

·         His arm is back, surprisingly. But why care?

·         The elevator opens and Luther is there, and for a moment Five cant breathe.

·         You walk out with Luther and run for him and he grabs you. Whispers about how he thought he lost you, how you’re a fool (affectionately of course.) And how much he loves you.

·         Everyone is just happy for a moment, not paying attention really.

·         Five, after 20 plus long days, has you with him, and he can’t stop himself anymore.

·         Season three is where he becomes a true romantic, and you thought he wouldn’t kiss you on the lips? He saved that for a moment like this.

·         It’s not even like a hard/rough kiss. Like its strong and full of affection, but soft at the same time, like if he kisses you too hard, you’ll break.

·         No one has powers anymore, so what do you do?

·         Lila has the solution: Live your lives.

·         Five will happily grab your hand and lead you off, ready for who knows what.

Season 4 will definitely NOT give me this but I’m giving you this.

·         Idc how the plot works in the show all Ik is that I will cry so You get a cute house.

·         You get a house, and a garden, and a dog (you want Mr. Pennycrumb? You get him. Get that baby)

·         You have a happy life!!!!!

·         Five finally grows up with you without fear of the apocalypse. He’ll do anything for you to keep this moment.

·         Takes you out for cute little dinners every other week.

·         He’s a sappy old man, and he loves you.

·         He still wants to dance to old records with you and sit next to you and listen to your breathing while you do literally anything.

·         I can’t stress this enough, you’re happy. You get up with the others sometimes and just have brunch sometimes, catching up.

·         Do whatever you want babe your life isn’t in danger anymore, not while I’m in charge.

·         You want kids, you got them. Adopt, do it the normal way, idc and Five doesn’t either. He might not be the best with kids but he wants to have that typical family life with you.

·         No kids? No problem. He’s fine with that, besides, he only needs you.

·         No matter what happens, he has you. He cares, he loves you, he’s on his knees with an actual ring to make it real.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk ily.

[mikiafina]

“Exotic Life Form — I”

Message:

Greetings. This story were inspired by @genshinarchives from their work, of seelie!gn!reader x genshin characters.

Dear genshinarchives, if you ever stumbled upon this work of mine and were felt like I stole your ideas and didn't like this posted anymore, we can talk about it peacefully so feel free to message me if so.

The reader's pronouns in this story is not really mentioned but the reader I have in mind as I write this is female, so be warned. Also, masterlist are gonna be posted and pinned soon so stay tuned!

Note:

CRITICISM ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED! IF YOU NOTICED ANY ERRORS IN MY WORK, FEEL FREE TO POINT IT OUT SO I COULD FIX IT!

——————————

I DO NOT POST IN ANY OTHER PLATFORMS EXCEPT HERE ON TUMBLR!

Trigger Warning:

Grammatical Errors, misspellings, typos, ooc, possibly curse words, use of informal language and not proof-read yet

Synopsis:

Genshin characters who were minding their own business, going through their day like any other normal occurrence of their life. When for some huge coincidence or just pure horrible luck— they were yeeted into your world, the modernized world.

How would they fare in a world they have no knowledge of? Will they last? How would they get back to their own world?

Inspired by:

@genshinarchives

“[Name]! Over here!” Your friend waved you over their table when your roamed your eyes around the interior of the café, walking over to them as you clutched your backpack's strap tighter.

“Yo, sorry ‘m late. Didn't notice the time, I was too preoccupied with my work.” You smiled as your friends shrugged off your unusual tardiness, warmth filled you as butterflies swirled around your stomach in a warming way.

“Yeah, it's fine. We know you're busy, its even amazing to think that you could find a free time despite of your cramped schedule. Multiple works in everyday as routine, heck, its amazing just imagining that you can multitask in such advanced level.” One of your friends chimed in, apparently in a state of amazed at your skills. After all, not all could do what you do as an everyday normal occurrence in life.

“Working multiple jobs ain't hard and stressful if your work is also a hobby of yours, instead, it'll be a fun work. Enough of that, any updates? I haven't been able to come out of my house for quite some time, even checking my personal accounts are too much so, spill the tea.” You brought out your laptop and tablet along with your favourite sketchbook and notebook, placing them all in the table and in your lap.

“Seriously? You're gonna do work even here? No wonder the bag that you chose to use is a backpack. Take a break sometimes, you need a vacation!” Like a rebellious kid who's being reprimanded, you weren't listening and continued where you left on sketching the draft of your commission.

“Speaking of vacations, you said you want tea, I have a tea. I recently found this website through an ad, it seems pretty legit so I tried it. The website is all about promoting an island that seemed to be ‘granting’ wishes, multiple feedbacks claimed that their said to be wishes were granted.” [Friend name] showed the said website's homepage, earning a scoff from the rest of your friends.

“Seriously, they believe the feedbacks? For all we know, they might be bought by the developers of the website. They're just planning to scam us of our moneys!” One of them claimed, slamming their hands on the table. People inside the café turned their heads towards your group making you sigh, you had no choice but to calm your friend down and apologize for the commotion and distraction that your table had caused.

“I had my fun, thank you for inviting me you guys. Take care on your way home and be careful!” You waved them goodbye and went on your way home, tugging your jacket closer to your shivering frame.

*squeak*

*squeaks*

Huh? Squeaks? Did you just hear squeaking? Where did it come from? What in the world would create squeaking noises?

Many questions swirled around your pretty head like a raging tornado, you slowly walked in to an alleyway where you assumed the noise came from. Looking around, you shone your phone's flashlight to provide at least a little of vision.

In the corner of your peripheral vision, you saw a wornout box shook frantically. When you stalked closer, abruptly, the box's lid slammed open eliciting a shriek of fright from you as a blob of liquid? Substance? Fluid? Floated in the air in front of you, what?

The blob floated closer to your frame and seemed to be in distress? The way it shook that causes its fluid body to shook along is what you assumed to be a body language of distress, upon closer look, the blob's appearance is strikingly similar to genshin's pet seelie.

As you were focused on the blob of fluid in front of you, your wrist phone rung as it vibrated. Startled, you snoozed the alarm and checked the time, only to realize at how late it is. Without any thoughts running in your mind, you tried to gently tuck the blob of fluid into your bag before wearing it on the front.

In hopes to get home as quick as possible, you run like your life was depending on it (well sort of, its late and you never know what kind of evil guys are lurking. Stay safe everyone!). You gently clutched the bag as you run to ensure that the blob of fluid wouldn't fall to the speed that you are running.

Upon arriving inside, you put your backpack down the floor softly as you slump on to the soft cushion of your couch. Leaning back as you let your tense muscles relax against the couch, completely forgetting about the blob you took home with you.

Minutes passed and you fell asleep without noticing, the blob of fluid wiggled its way out of your bag. Seeing that you fell asleep on the couch, the blob of fluid grabbed the folded blanket on the one-seat couch and pushed you to lay down comfortably in the couch, draping the blanket on your frame to prevent you from catching cold.

"Oh traveler! Just right on time, I received a commission and I know that only you can solve it. Another adventurer stumbled upon a ruin, and they claimed that outside the ruin, there's a huge group of abyss mages. They said that the device they have also grasped an unusual elemental activity going on from the ruin's direction, can you do the commission? I can assign someone who can take it if you won't." Katherine put a hand on her chest in a gentle manner, smiling at Traveler softly.

"Alright, I'll do it. I'm going out anyways, might as well do some commission while I'm at it." Traveler mumbled to himself as he took the paper from Katherine's hand, reading over the quest's information.

'Hmm.. There aren't much written information about the ruin.. I guess I'll end this quick, I still need to look for clues about Lumine's whereabouts..' Traveler thought as his lips formed a thin line, walking away from Katherine with Paimon bidding farewell to her.

"Traveler! Behind you! Look! There's a strange orb!" Paimon screamed, attracting me more abyss mage in their direction. Aether can't help but to click his tongue in annoyance, Paimon noticed Aether's mood and hid.

'Where do they keep coming up?... This is annoying me already.. I still need to find Lumine..' Aether defeated the abyss mage without letting any escape, feeling his temper boiling uncharacteristically, he stalked closer to the said strange orb and examined it.

"Uh.. Traveler..? Are you alright now?.." Paimon quietly asked as she appeared beside Aether who's inspecting the orb, seeing that his lips are still in a thin line, Paimon stopped talking and floated few steps back, not wanting to annoy Aether.

"What is this? Shall we submit this to Alhaitham or Kaveh? This thing look suspicious.." Aether lowly asked as he turned to Paimon who gave no response. Paimon got startled and panicked in her words as she answer Aether, doing her best not to cause any more further annoyance to the blonde traveler.

Just as the two were talking, the strange orb glowed brightly causing Paimon's and Aether's sight to be temporarily disabled. The whole situation cause Paimon to shriek in surprise and floated few steps back further in attempt to lessen the blinding light that's hitting her eyes. When Paimon's vision went back, Aether was no where yo be found and the dull blade that he was holding were left behind under the strange orb, laying in the orb's shadow.

Crying and panicking, Paimon flew back to Sumeru and stumbled upon Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari. The floating albino(?) raced through the air towards the four men, slamming herself against Tighnari's hold. She cried as her tears kept falling like river and her voice cracks ever so often, Paimon tried to explain what had occured in the ruin within her best but the only thing that the four men grasped in her explanation is that Aether suddenly went missing and that there's a strange orb inside a strange ruin.

"Wait- wait Paimon! Aether went missing? And what are you talking about? There's no such ruin like you mentioned in the outskirt of the forest, I would know if such ruin exist because me and the other forest rangers frequently patrol the whole territory." Tighnari made an attempt to calm the crying floating creature as he asked her numerous questions.

"Like I said! Aether and I were investigating a strange ruin! And Aether suddenly disappeared when this light from the strange orb that we found at the end of the ruin blinded us! All I heard was Aether groaning in surprise followed by his sword clanking on the ground! Then when Paimon opened her eyes, Aether were no longer beside her!" Paimon explained more cohesively as she cries harder, scared for her best friend's safety and location.

Alhaitham calmed Paimon down and suggested that they go to the Adventurers guild and post a commission on finding their blonde traveler, asking people on the way for clues and leads. The search for the Traveler had went on for 5 days and still no lead and clues or fruit in their search, the only clue and lead they have is the ruin that Paimon had mentioned so they decided to investigate the ruin themselves and find out the truth.

® mikiafina

[starshipcaptainjojo]

Continuation (sort of) of this writing prompt

So Sunspot is on your couch under your heating pad while Elliot fusses over him like this is totally normal.

You made tea. The baby’s asleep and your husband won’t be home for a while yet- you called him already but he said “Is he staying for dinner?” like this was all totally normal.

So.

Sunspot. On your couch. Totally normal.

“I’m late for club,” Sunspot rasps unhelpfully when you shove tea under his nose, careful not to slosh it onto the bandages wrapped around his neck. “I need to go home and rest.”

“You have a concussion,” you didn’t mean to use Mom Voice but, alas. Mom Voice it is. “You’re sitting here, awake and drinking tea, while we figure out what to do with you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sunspot says, surrendering to Mom voice.

“My teacher Mr. Right wouldn’t criticize you so much if he knew you saved my life,” Elliot tells Sunspot, sitting crosslegged by the couch helping you peel potatoes for dinner. A dinner Sunspot- AKA Eliot’s teacher Mr. Holman Right- will apparently be staying for.

“I think he would,” you grumble, and Sunspot laughs wetly from the couch.

“It’s cool that a super hero is here,” Elliot says speculatively, testing out if you’ll go on one of your usual anti-heroics tangents.

“Better here than anywhere else,” you agree sourly. “After this stunt you’re both grounded.”

Elliot complains, something about doing the right thing, something about villains ganging up on you.

You only tune back in when he mentions Sistern and Jumbro.

“What were they doing with you?” You dart a glance over at Sunspot, who is suspiciously quiet.

“They attacked the comic shop. Said it was for nerds.” Elliot looks away. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it but-” he cuts himself off with a sharp look at Sunspot.

Sunspot already knows you’re Barracuda. You had this conversation the first day you met in plainclothes at Elliot’s school.

“Sunspot and I used to work together,” you tell your son, whose eyes light up with annoying amounts of hero worship. “He made the right decision bringing you here.”

“Used to? What, you retiring already?” Sunspot’s concussion is making him giddy. It’d worry you but he’s also heckling you, so he’s probably fine.

“Elliot go set the table. We’ll eat when your father gets home. You can play videogames once the table is set.” You point to the kitchen, but Elliot’s already moving. The most motivated teenager ever now that videogames are on the table.

With Elliot out of the room you sit on a chair across the coffee table from Sunspot laid out on your couch.

“Why are my former colleagues going after kids?” You drink your tea and watch Sunspot rub his eyes tiredly.

“No villains like you anymore, Barracuda.” He shrugs helplessly, “the era of villains is pretty much ending. I’m a glorified status symbol for the city. Sistern and Jumbro are not long for this world.” He quirks a sad smile. “They want their boss back. Your shoes are too big to fill you know.”

“Sounds almost like you miss me,” you tease.

“I do.” He says it so candidly that it makes your heart clench. “These new villains want to harm the world because the world hurt them. You are a class act.” He shakes his head. “You wanted to topple the world to make it better for yourself. Kids these days just want to watch the world burn.”

“That why you became a teacher?” You push the plate of saltines at Sunspot insistently. He takes one and nibbles it obediently.

“If I can save even one kid from becoming another Jumbro, I will feel accomplished.” He smiles wryly, “and if that makes you want to blow up another statue of me I really wouldn’t mind it.” 

“I appreciate you saving Elliot. Not that I’m surprised you did it of course.” You cross your legs. “The hero commission should give you some backup instead of a commemorative statue.”

“Nah they’d rather pay cops to shoot kids.” Sunspot lies back and closes his eyes.

“Eyes open, Sunny Boy.” You snap your fingers twice and his eyes flutter open. “Concussion watch.”

He sits up by force of will, listing to the side a little before righting himself.

“I never liked that you called me Sunny Boy you know...”

“That, Sunny Boy, is why I called you Sunny Boy.”

He shakes his head. “Sunspot. It refers to-”

“The spot on your face?” You raise your eyebrows and he seems surprised you mentioned it. In thirty years of beating the hell out of each other you’ve never once talked about it.

“So you can see it,” he mused.

“Of course I can see it. A birthmark in the shape of the sun on your shoulder? Kind of hard to miss.” Heroes. Honestly. You wave a hand dismissively. “Not sure how you lived a normal life with something like that.”

He smiles wryly. “I cover it at school.”

“I know. That was a joke, Sunny.”

“I like that it’s a birthmark.” He smiles at you, all tired eyes and barely healing wounds. You patched him up earlier but you itch to clean him up again. It’s an almost maternal thought- which is a little gross honestly. Mom-mode is hard to turn off. “Seemed weird to me you never wanted to acknowledge the ‘spot’ part.”

“I’m a woman, Sunny.” You gesture to yourself in case he missed that fact over thirty-plus years. “If you think I’m going to comment on an aspect of someone’s appearance that they can’t change, I’m no better than those douchebros or corporate leeches trying to set human interaction and empathy back decades.”

He laughs, and coughs because his throat was strangled by Jumbro.

You... might have to come out of semi-retirement for a day to set Jumbro on the right path.

You haven’t bitten off a dick since you got married. Harold might be into it, if you explain the situation to him first.

Food for thought.

“You’re smiling.” Sunspot raises his eyebrows. “And you’re showing Barracuda teeth.”

“You remember how they said I used to bite penises off?”

He crosses his legs. “Yes.”

“Did you ever think I really did it?“

“No,” he says, legs still very crossed.

“Liar.” You lean back in your seat. “I was just thinking Jumbro might benefit from losing what tiny dick he has.”

“Please don’t castrate a stupid man for me with your teeth. Feels... wrong somehow.” Sunspot sighs. “You never threatened me with that either, but they said you had a taste for... manflesh.”

You both scoff a laugh at that phrasing.

“If I did bite dicks off- which I am not admitting to- I wouldn’t be interested in doing it to you. You don’t seem to be obsessed with yours so taking it from you might not even do anything.”

You’re lying.

Well, you’re not lying. But the idea of going anywhere near Sunspot in an intimate- or even predatory- way never even crossed your mind.

If you’re honest with yourself-

“It’d be too weird, anyway,” you deflect.

He grimaces. “Wholeheartedly agree.”

The door mercifully opens and closes and Harold gets home. He finds you both sitting across from each other in silence, leans down and pecks you at the whorl of your hair.

“Sunspot. Nice to meet you. Hon, I’m gonna check on the brat, then we can eat. You guys look so awkward it physically hurts me. Work it out before it spoils dinner.”

He then pauses, your perfect crazy husband. He turns to Sunspot and holds out a hand. The two men shake, looking seriously at each other.

“We missed you at our wedding,” Harold says, not letting Sunspot’s hand go. “But obviously you’ve been keeping an eye on Elliot. So. You know. Open invitation to dinner. Always.”

“I thought the wedding invite was a joke,” Sunspot admits. 

“Nope,” you and Harold say together.

Harold steps back, nodding to himself. “Alright. Well. Work the awkwardness out, then we’re eating.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze, then heads to the den yelling the countdown to his arrival that makes Elliot save his game in a hurry.

“He’s very nice.” Sunspot sits back down. “Couldn’t picture you marrying someone but... he weirdly makes sense.”

“He found me bloody in a ditch.” You smile fondly. “He asked if I was gonna bite him.”

“Did you?” Sunspot looks more awake now, which is good.

“Only once he asked me to.” You grin, and Sunspot grimaces.

“Gross. It feels like my sister is trying to tell me about her sexcapades.” He hears the words only after he’s said them, eyes going wide. He covers his mouth.

But he’s right. Also it was hilarious.

“Yeah. I’m glad I don’t know anything about your love life either.” You smile, no teeth this time. He smiles back.

“Got any tips? I’m pathetically single.” Sunspot laughs and coughs again.

“We’ll find you a nice... uh. Girl? Man?” You never really thought about Sunspot's orientation, but a man who wears skintight white spandex could go either way.

“Yes,” Sunspot confirms and you snort a laugh.

You stand up and stretch. “Let’s go have dinner. We can work out what you’re going to do about Jumbro and Sistern afterward. I have some fun ideas for you.”

“No,” he says, but it’s not as firm as it should be. He sways when he walks, but he fusses when you gently support him down the hallway.

Somehow, you both make your way to dinner together like this is totally normal.

[clouds-by-me]

November 20th **87;

”What are we going to do? We don’t have any place to stay! And the entirety of Teyvat is against itself!”

“Pai, You need to calm down.” You look over to your companion who is distraught. His chest heaving up and down as you pace back and forth. Before he could cut you off, you continued. “We can’t stress ourselves over this, we need to stay calm and diligent so that we can figure this whole thing out.”

———————————-

48 hours ago;

With the sky being almost perfect, you’d thought that the day would be as well. With your help, Aether was able to get all of his commissions done, now all you needed to do was talk to Katherine. Since your small trio happened to be in the forested area of Sumeru, you decided it would be easier to go visit the Sumerian Katherine.

On the way it was fairly peaceful. There was less fungi and hilichurls wondering around. The walk, however did feel feel longer than normal, but the nice breeze and relaxed atmosphere made up for it. Upon making it to Sumeru everything was as normal as ever. While walking the streets you saw various people that you’ve met during your previous travels.

“Hey Alhaitham!” You waved as you saw him, he was reading a small hand book, like normal. He looked up at your group, he only nodded, a small wave came after as soon as he looked back down at his book.

“Alhaitham thinks hes so much better than us doesn’t he! He can’t even say a simple ‘hello’!” Paimon yelled, clearly upset.

“You know how he is Pai. He just doesn’t have a lot to say. He’s still our friend.” You try to reason, to which Aether nodded with you.

“He doesn’t mean any harm.”

You continued along, soon stopping when getting close to Katherine’s commission booth for the adventure’s guild. For some reason there was a large number of adventures, and scholars surrounding the small booth, which is highly unusual. Despite being well known, and very much used, it was always empty, and not many people gathered around it at once. Ever.

You could hear the murmurs amongst the group and you could only make out some of the tings that were said.

“………Missing” “………here….” “what are……..” “where…..she?”

and more things that mixed and tangled like vines and thread. You didn’t stray far from Aether as he pushed is way to the center of the crowd, clearly determined to get to the bottom of this whole situation. As soon as you made it to the center, everything was just as you had expected it to be.

The pale, black haired woman was gone. Something about her sudden disappearance sent shivers down your spine, and flowed down and up your body. Touching everything that connected to you.

“What are we gonna do Traveler? If Katherine isn’t here who’s gonna take commissions? And help the Adventure’s guild!” Paimon cried, panic already getting to her as her normally high pitched voice started to lower, and brake. “We have to do something!” She continued.

“How about we go see if the clones are still at the other Nations. If they are then there’s nothing to worry about.” He answered, trying to sound as calm as possible, but you could see the signs of panic grow.

“And if she’s not?” For some reason your voice was dry, and you worried about what his response will be.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that point…”

————————————

36 hours later;

It took over a day of a minimum amount of stops and brakes, and straight movement to get all across Teyvat. Starting at Sumeru, then to Fontaine, then to Liyue, to Mondstadt, then to Inazuma. Even after all the searching, you couldn’t find her. Now in Inazuma, you sat thinking about what to do, who to talk to even. Theres plenty of people who might be able to help, but even then, not a lot of people could.

While at each nation, you tried to speak with each of the Archons, however it seemed that all of them was busy, even Venti. Which is strange because all the bard really does is lazy around stringing tunes on his lire. He’s never busy.

While walking, you continued to think. ‘We really went all around Teyvat to look for someone. Not that she’s not worth it, but surely we wouldn’t be in such a rush to look for her. And not to mention that every time she isn’t at her usual spot, i get this horrible feeling in the pits of my stomach. Something can’t be right, or we’re just overreacting for no reason. Maybe she just took a day off?’ You looked at your companions who looked sick in the face, well Aether at least did. Paimon, like usual look perfectly healthy.

“Traveler? Are you ok.” He didn’t respond to Paimon’s question, as he looked around almost as if he was lost. He stopped for a moment, holding his head in distress. You stepped closer, reaching out to him, only for him to trip when you make contact with him.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” You try to make a move but this time he actually fell. You catch him before his body hits the ground, and hold him close. As you do so, you take a second took look around for anyone, you started to scream for someone, anyone to help your friend. But the world as empty, and silent.

What the fuck is happening.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 036

Oh hey, it’s the Final Flash episode.  

So Vegeta’s fighting Auta Magetta, and he’s having some trouble, mainly because Champa added a force field box around the ring, and if you touch it, you lose, which greatly reduces Vegeta’s room to manuever.  So far this fight has mostly been Magetta shooting lava and fire straight up while Vegeta dodges it.  

This is especially frustrating to Bulma, and just before she can take out her frustrations on Jaco, he switches places with Oolong, so he can take the punishment instead.  So yeah, this reminds me of a point I was going to make in Episode 31, where the Bulma/Jaco relationship was pretty much just Bulma beating the shit out of him whenever he made a crass remark.  It seemed out of character for Jaco, who’s a much colder, decisive sort of person.  He’d draw his pistol on Bulma just to make a point.  But the writers didn’t seem to care much about making Jaco look authentic to the manga, and at times it felt more like Bulma was just teaming up with Oolong instead.  Well, enough about that. 

So Vegeta’s strategy this whole time is to stay airborne, because he thinks Magetta is vulnerable to attacks from above, which is why Champa commissioned this force field box.  But it’s really hot up there, because the only ventilation is coming from around the bottom of the ring.  The force field doesn’t reach all the way down, you see.  So there is fresh air coming in, but Vegeta’s positioned himself as far away from it as possible, which means the oxygen is getting kind of thin where he’s at.  And this was Champa’s plan all along.  Magetta probably doesn’t even need oxygen, and he can withstand the heat.

So Vegeta tries to fire a Gallick Gun down Magetta’s throat, but that doesn’t work.  Instead, he winds up with a beam struggle, and Magetta can also use the lava to make rocky bludgeons to hit Vegeta with.  And as he attacks, Vegeta falls to the outside of the ring...

Whoops.   Looks like Vegeta’s out of the tournament.  OR DID HE?!

Turns out, he came down on one foot, and his toe just happened to touch a chunk of the ring that came off earlier in the battle.  So Vegeta has not actually landed outside the ring, because by definition, he’s still standing on the ring.

The Universe 7 folks are relieved, but Whis isn’t so eager to celebrate, pointing out that such a twist would surely infuriate the prideful Vegeta.   “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Goku should have told him.  “He’s always pissed off about one thing or another.”

But Vegeta’s right, this tournament sucks ass.  It’s supposed to be a contest of the ten strongest warriors of two universes, but only three of them actually rate, and most of the matches have been squashes or screwjobs.  This saga has been more concerned with the rules and rule changes, and how good a job the official is doing with his rulings, and no one tuned in for the referee, dammit!  He doesn’t even have a name!

So Vegeta calmly asks about the new rule concerning the force field box.  It’s only a loss if you touch it, right?  Right.  Fine.

So Vegeta powers up and destroys the whole box.  Two observations.

1) Cool!

2) Why the fuck didn’t he just do that before?

I mean, apparently all he has to do is raise his power level while in Super Saiyan mode, which isn’t even that big a strain for him at this point.  Champa asks Vados why she didn’t make the box more durable, but Vados reminds him that she offered to do so, but Champa insisted that he didn’t want to waste time on her “perfectionism.” 

And now Vegeta sets up Final Flash.  So we’re basically repeating the spot from earlier, where he tried a Gallick Gun, except I guess this is stronger, and he doesn’t have to worry about a ring-out if he gets pushed back while in mid-air. 

And no, I haven’t forgotten about Magetta.  He’s in this fight.  It’s just that he never actually does anything.  He just pumps his robot arms and says “Chugga chugga” a lot, and then he shoots lava all over the place.  This is the best fight we’ve seen in the tournament so far, but it’s just Vegeta teeing off on a big indestructible clod. 

So Vegeta’s got him on the edge of the ring, and he follows through with a punch, and as he throws it, he calls Magetta a “pile of junk” or something.

And according to Whis, that’s what actually defeated Magetta, because his species are incredibly sensitive to insults like that.  So he was so offended that he couldn’t help but tumble out of the ring.  I guess this means Vegeta could have just made fun of Magetta’s mother instead, and he would have resigned the match.  Wait, how the hell does Magetta even understand what Vegeta is saying?  He’s speaking a whole other language, I thought.

Anyway, Vegeta’s a thirsty boy after all that, so he gets a bottle from Whis and just splashes it all over himself like a dog. 

And now it’s Cabba’s turn.  Don’t get your hopes up.

[drengar]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 | Accepting @wolfpackmuses asked: hospital .   my  muse  is  told  that  yours  is  in  the  hospital . + Reverse From Tokoyami to Keigo

Waking up in a hospital wasn't exactly anything new for him. Being a hero, Keigo was somewhat of a regular. Coupled with his side gig as a spy and missions not always going according to plan, it tended to happen more often than usual. It was to the point that he had certain expectations when he woke up.

His handler and PR agent were usually present when he either woke up and got wheeled in from an examination or surgery. Keigo usually assumed that they had bickered at some point since his PR agent was always huffy even as she fretted about him while his handler just kept his distance. It would be the usual rundown of relaying information once the doctors and nurses left so the two of them could get to work on a cover story and his handler could take what he learned back to the Commission. His handler would then leave with some stiff excuse while his PR agent made sure he was comfortable and had what he needed for his stay. From there it was the usual R&R treatment with his PR agent checking in and stopping by from time to time.

So when he woke up and things were drastically different, it sort of made him wonder if he was even awake. For one waking up to what he actually assumed was dull pain was sort of new. He could tell he was on some sort of painkillers but even for him to register the pain instead of just tuning it out like he normally did, was trained to do, made him acutely aware of the possible situation he was in. If he hadn't been in a near-death situation then Keigo would bet his entire Endeavor merch collection that he was damn close to one. When he did finally open his eyes, he wasn't that surprised to see and hear various machines around him that were monitoring various things. His vitals he assumed. What did surprise him was who was in the room with him.

Well, thinking about it a little, he shouldn't be that surprised that Tokoyami was with him. His memory was a little hazy but Keigo did remember his student coming in and saving him from Dabi. Anything that happened after or before was where his memory wasn't exactly great. There were fragments but that was about it. Seeing Tokoyami in a favor better condition than he was gave him a sense of relief.

Keigo opened his mouth to ask what had happened but right as he was about to utter a sound, it felt as if his throat got clogged. The end result was him coughing into the oxygen mask and vowing not to do that again until he saw a doctor. He made a vague motion to where he assumed a nightstand was and where he hoped his phone was as well.

[theres-thejediway-orthefunway]

Home Planet: Celestar (made up)

Species: Celestian (I made up)

Basically my main thing when u created this species and planet.. The species is a humanoid one. Identifying factor being the color in their hair. The color shows their age. The more of an unnatural color shows in their hair, the older they are.

Jedi Master: Mace Windu

Lightsaber Form: She specialized in a mix between Shien/Djem So and Ataru.

Kyber Crystals over time: Green, Red, Pink

Interesting Facts:

- She is the same age as Anakin.

- She also grew up being Anakin's best friend in the temple

- Her birth family were royals of her home planet.

- She is a rare force sensitive of her species.

- She is a respected general during the clone war. With an impressive record.

- She accidentally learned who her family was during a mission during the Clone War.

- General of the 607th Clone Battalion (I made it up)

- Has a high respect for clones and wished they were treated better by people in the republic.

- Briefly turned to the dark side, and was Dooku's apprentice prior to the war, before realizing the truth and coming back to the light.

Bio: (Clone Wars part)

She grew up in the temple as Padawan Learner to Mace Windu. She was also best friends with Anakin Skywalker.

In her earlier Padawan years she wasn't great at her saber skills and would constantly be beat by others. But she was very in tune with her force abilities for her age. She took upon sparring sessions with Anakin, Yoda and Mace to improve her saber technique. She was more of a studier than a fighter at this point and preferred gaining knowledge in the archive.

After being sent on her first solo mission at age 19, her ship was shot down and she crashed. She was found by Dooku, who at the time she had no reason to distrust. She had no idea he was a sith lord and couldn't sense the darkness around him because her vision was clouded.

He quickly gained her trust, and eventually used that to manipulate her into working for him. And she was his apprentice for a few months.

She turned back before the planned execution of Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padme on Geonosis after learning the full truth from Obi-Wan, and listening in on Dooku's meeting, finding out he was behind Padme's assasination attempt.

Dooku sensed the change in her, caught her trying to free Obi-Wan. She was met with an ambush and sent for execution at the arena.

After the battle of Geonosis she spoke to the council, being honest about what happened. The council took a vote on her fate, and she was allowed to stay in the order, but she was under a sort of probation. She was to undergo mandatory training with her master about channeling her emotions correctly.

She was kept under a close eye by some. Many Jedi not hiding their disdain and lack of trust for her. After being knighted near the same time as Anakin, because they needed more Knights, she was also made aware they didn't think her ready to take on a Padawan learner because of what happened with Dooku.

All during the war, she fought herself internally trying to keep the darkside out and control her emotions. A constant fight internally during the war..

She was General of the 607th Legion. They ended up being known for pushing insane attack plans. They were called upon for some of the most dangerous missions of the war.

Not too long into the war Amaya found herself face to face with Dooku and Grievous. They killed the Senator of her home world who was pushing for clone rights as well as a Jedi master and all of the men of hers assigned to that mission.

Dooku blinded her in one eye, and she fought for a time before being bested. As he was about to kill her, she finally stopped holding back her emotions, and was able to use the dark side, knocking grevious out of commission briefly, as well as making it possible for her to escape with her life.

She was known for disobeying orders if she thought they were dumb. She was starting to become disillusioned with the Jedi order and republic as the war continued. She believed they were becoming too much about politics over helping people.

After the Ahsoka Trial, the Fake Obi-Wan death and many different instances, she completely distrusted the state of the order. Instead of leaving, she decided to wait until the war ended so she could know at least someone in the order wanted to help people.

At the same time, she began gathering suspicions about the heart of the republic itself, chancellor palpatine. It only became worse after the death of Fives. And another troop of hers felt the same way, continuing Fives' investigation. Also being conveniently killed after removing his inhibitor chip.

Eventually her Commander, Ryder removed his inhibitor chip too after Fives and Ryu (the other troop) died. Out of fear of being killed he never brought it up, but had suspicions something was wrong about the chip. (Not knowing exactly what)

She foolishly made palpatine aware that she thought he wasn't as honest as he made everyone think. He made sure he could keep her as far from Anakin as possible near the end of the war. He made sure she was deployed her to the worst and biggest battles.

And during order 66, she was caught between thousands of battle droids and clones. The only help she had was her commander who had already removed his chip.

I'm gonna be posting her story stuff on @mystarwarsocfics ((I have her a ship planned there, but I might not ship on this account for other reasons))

[writingsfromhome]

Sorry x Rare

A/N: I got two lyric requests for Sorry by Beyonce and Rare by Selena Gomez. They were both sort of two sides of the same coin so I wrote them together it mostly goes from rare to sorry. Thanks for the requests, fingers crossed it lives up to what you wanted! <3

Synopsis: You and Harry have been together for a long time but he’s not the same man you fell in love with anymore.

-----

I move my dinner around on my plate, my gaze on the man pacing outside the restaurant on his phone. My man. But it didn't really feel like that these days. These days, Harry was a stranger to me--late nights, phone calls interrupting dinner, waking up to find him gone and not even sure if he'd come home at all.

I watch him remove the phone from his ear in a rush, stare at it, and then shove it aggressively in his pocket. He walks back in, cheeks pink and huffing.

"Should we ask for the bill?" He sits down in a flurry. I stare at his barely-eaten meal and my own dinner mashed to bits.

"We've barely had dinner."

"Babe, we've been here for over an hour since..." he takes his phone back out to inform me of how much time exactly but something must catch his attention because his sentence dies on his lips. I stare, he was so distant lately. "I'll drop you off at home, I've got to meet the boys they decided to talk business-"

"It's 8pm on a Thursday," I state the obvious. "Can't you catch up with them la-"

"This isn't an argument Y/N," Harry finally looks at me. He was done discussing it. He lifts his hands to the waiter and a minute later dinner's been paid for. He wasn't my baby, I think as we stroll outside to his car. I don't know who this man was.

***

I wake up the next morning with the weight of Harry on the other side of the bed. I could smell him, the booze sitting in his pores.

“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to smell that first thing in the morning. I get up and start my day before I head to work. Soon, Harry appears squinting as I stir sugar into my coffee.

“I need a coffee,” he says, his voice hoarse. It used to sound sexy but now it was just another reminder that things changed. We lived like roommates and it hurt that he never wanted to talk. Half the time, he acted like I wasn’t even there.

I watch him settle with his coffee, taking the first sip and letting out a deep breath. A memory comes to me suddenly, the first year we were dating,

“I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” it was the first night Harry had stayed the whole night and I’d made him coffee in my outdated coffee maker. It came out burnt half the time but that morning’s cup was decent. We’re swaddled in my blankets--the room I rented back then had poor circulation in the winter.

“I think you’re still slightly drunk,” I lean my shoulder against his and cup the warm drink. “I’ve definitely had better coffees.”

“Maybe coffees are just better the morning after,” he says, glancing at me and I know he can see the flush on my cheeks. He knew I was shy talking about certain things in the light of day.

“We can say that,” I mumble into the cup. “It’s just nice to have a heat source.”

“Here,” he takes the cup from me and reaches over to put both on the nightstand.

“Hey I wasn’t done with that.”

“I know but if you’re cold, I know this other heat source--it even works for hypothermia.”

His statement causes a blood rush that warms me already but I don’t say no to what he has in mind. I could make us another cup later.

Harry catches me staring when he looks over and raises an eyebrow. I snap out of my thoughts and twist my lips into a smile, looking back at my own drink bitterly. Who was this man in front of me? Out loud, I ask: “How was your night? You came in late.”

“I was out with the boys.” he says in a tone that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. “It got late.”

“A text would’ve been nice,” I say, still looking at my cup.

“S’not like you were waiting up,” he turns to walk back towards the bedroom.

“Learned not to,” I mumble but I know he’s heard me with the way he pauses. But he didn’t care enough to argue, dispute it, nothing. He leaves.

***

"Guess who just made a commission that's more than I used to earn in a year?" April walks into the small office, an infectious grin on her face.

"You sold him on it?" I put away the file I'm working on and jump up to hug my friend.

"I had to flirt a little--give him a vivid picture of what he could have there, and he signed! I'm bloody brilliant."

April was my American ex-pat who I met when she was looking for a flat a few years ago. And now here she was, working for me at the small real estate office I managed with a few other people I considered friends.

"Do you know if he was single?" I tune back in to hear Janelle asking.

"No, don't give her bad advice!" I scold Janelle. “We don’t date clients.”

"I'm miserably single," April pouts. "I'll take advice even if it’s bad."

"Bad advice is to stay with your college sweetheart to the point where you're not sure he even cares about you." I say to no one in particular. It was just us in the office today, and they knew everything about my life so I didn't care much. But the pin-drop silence that follows is different. I look up to see my friends eyeing each other. "What?"

"Nothing." They stay tight lipped but I push and they crack. "Well, so...we know things are rocky between you and Harry..."

"Things aren't rocky," I clarify. "They're just...nonexistent."

"Right," April slides closer. "Soo, we saw him at the club yesterday."

I raise my eyebrow, "He told me he was meeting up with his boys."

"Oh!" They sound surprised I know, but they look at each other again so I push them. "He was...there was a girl? Sitting on his lap for most of the night? Like, nothing happened I don't think so?" She turns to look at April at the end of each sentence.

Personally, I feel gut-punched even though I suspected this. I knew he wasn't where he said he was going to be sometimes, or with who he said he was going to be with. But he cut our own dinner short last night to be with strangers yesterday? I grip the pen in my hand.

"Y/N honestly...you know we love you and support you. But, you're a special girl and you deserve better than that sod."

"Yeah," Janelle puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're a gem Y/N. There's someone else out there who's gonna see how rare you are."

"I know," I blow my cheeks out. We'd had different conversations like this before, although never this direct. I guess we'd never had direct proof of what my husband was doing until now though.

"He's an idiot not knowing you're so rare," my friends try to comfort me. I feel my eyes well up and I swipe at them. I wasn't going to cry at work but they must sense the tears because they excuse themselves, "We're going to get you a tea, and some pastries to celebrate April's sale. April?"

I keep my face buried in my hands as they leave, take a few deep breaths. "I am rare," I say to myself but even that makes me laugh bitterly. Harry and I had been together for 5 years and here I was trying to count up all the reasons we should stay together when he didn't even care. He was out with other women, and I was waiting around for him.

"I'm rare," I say again. "I'm special, I deserve better. I...deserve better."

When will u be home tonight? I text Harry before I lose my nerve.

Busy he says. That’s it. And then, Why?

What time? I ask again.

8 or so, he responds.

Okay, we need to talk then. I put my phone away, too scared what he might text back. A tear falls from my cheek onto my keyboard, landing on the letter H. It mocks me. I wipe it off, and before I can think about what I'm doing I smash the letter down with my fist. I stand up and walk to the back of the office, a window overlooks the busy street. I'd had enough, I decide. Fuck Harry.

I’m not sure how long I stand there stewing, but my friends walking in with pastries and tea ends the emotional boiling pot from overflowing.

"Thanks," I take the cup from them.

“So we were talking and...” April looks at Janelle and she nods. “You should come out with us some time. Like...tonight. Dance with us, with other people...”

“I...I’ve got something at 8,” I come up with an excuse. As angry as I was, I wanted to have this conversation. It was long overdue.

***

I check my time again, the last text Harry sent me Ok. But it was 8:25 and Harry still wasn’t home. I’d give him five more minutes, I decide. I’d already tried to ring him with no answer.

I stare at the ring on my finger, it was supposed to symbolize a promise he made to me. What a fucking joke. I should’ve never said I do in the first place.

Was it young love, I wonder. Did we do this too fast and we were just set up to fail? But I remember the good memories, the soft and sweet times between us.

“I-I’ve never done something like this before,” I tell Harry. “I hate heights.”

“Listen,” he crowds around me, blocking my view of his friends who are walking up the narrow trail like it was any old walkway. “You go in front of me, I’ll have my hand on your back the whole time. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

I look up into those gentle eyes and swallow my fear. “Okay.”

“I promise it will be so worth it,” he gushes, his excitement uncaged now that I’d agreed. “There’s no lights there so the stars are so bloody bright--I know you’re going to love it!”

I can’t help it, my lips crack into a smile at his boyish excitement. He catches it and pauses, a breath in this whirlwind of a night. What started out as a house party turned into a walk to a local beach which turned into a hike into the woods and up a precarious--and very steep--ridge to get to an isolated lookout. Only with Harry did I find myself in these situations. And I loved it. I loved him, I realise then. My expression must change because he tugs on my hand, probably worried I’d change my answer.

“Walk ahead,” he instructs and I nearly tip toe on the ridge that’s at least 30 feet across. But his steady hand on my back pushes me gently and I walk across confidently until I look down 2/3 of the way. I freeze in place but Harry’s ready. “Y/N, you’re safe here. Look at me-look...”

I crane my neck and he grounds me, oh my god how did I just realise now how in love I was with him? He squeezes my hand, asks if I was okay. I had to be, I couldn’t stay stuck in the middle.

Inch by inch we finally make it to the other side and I jump off with a yelp which sets Harry off in a burst of laughter. Pretty soon he’s lifted me over his shoulder and carries me to the lookout on the edge. My feet had been through enough, he’d said.

And he was right--it was so worth it; the view with all the stars laid out. The buildings and their light pollution below were blocked out by the outcrops and it made the stars twinkle in all their glory. It made it the perfect place to be with the person I loved.

“Isn’t it the most incredible view?” Harry whispers in awe behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“I.....I have no words apparently,” I laugh and turn in his arms. “Thanks for pushing me, this...it was worth it.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and gazes at me in a way that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks with a smile.

“Compared to the view,” I glance behind us. “I guess I’m alright.”

“No,” he guides my face back towards his. “This view over that one, any day. M’just that lucky.”

My words die on my lips as I’m overwhelmed by this feeling between us, the one I thought would keep us together like this forever.

He raises an eyebrow when I go silent and I shrug, “I’m all out of words today.”

I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. I turn back around and we spend the moment in silence, drinking in the view. His friends chatter around us but they’re background noise. My life felt like a movie right now.

Before we leave as a group, I tug Harry back. This was a good as place as any to tell him. I press my lips to his, and it takes him a second but he’s kissing me back. Before it can get carried away I push away and tell him what I’d been thinking all night, “I love you.”

He takes a step back, and then he’s grinning and pulling me back. “I love you! I love you listen, I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks!”

“Weeks?!”

“Yeah weeks! My sister said it was too soon, I might scare you off!”

I think about a few weeks ago, I was intensely shy around him even then. Maybe she was right, but the idea that he talked about me to his sister makes me flush. I wrap my arms around his waist “I just...this moment is so perfect. I never want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.” he’d promised. “I’m yours forever Y/N.”

When 8:30 comes and goes I call April, she lets me know where they were. “We’re so happy you’re coming! Are you sure you don’t want us to meet you somewhere else?” she shouts into the phone. When I tell her I just wanted to be where they were she reminds me to text them when I was nearby.

I have to dig into the back of my closet, past the pantsuits I wore to work, the casual dresses and loungewear. I still had some of my old party clothes, just a bit tighter than they used to be. But for where I was going, it would fit in.

Before I leave, I take a pen and scrawl a note: “Great talk"

My friends spot me as I walk in. The music is instantly too loud, the lights too bright, and there are too many people. But one of my them shoves a drink in my hand and pretty soon it’s the best place on earth. It was exactly where I needed to be. I turn off my cellphone and enjoy myself.

After a certain point, I don’t even know who I’m talking to, but pressed up against a body, feeling wanted, it drives me to keep dancing all night. Eventually, I crash at April’s and don’t roll out of hers until 11 the next morning. Harry’s barely an afterthought until I’m tucked in the taxicab taking me home and turn on my phone. 8 missed calls, 2 voicemails and 13 texts.

I’m shocked at the volume, Harry hadn’t blown up my phone like this in over a year. I listen to one voicemail: “Where the hell are you? I come home an hour late and you’re bloody gone with this stupid note here. Pick up! I’ve called you a billion times.”

I stare at my phone, I hadn’t heard Harry this passionate since...well it was a long time. And all it took was going out late and not answering his calls, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It almost makes me angrier; I had to partake in this juvenile dance to get his attention, even though we’d been married nearly 2 years.

He’s on a call when I get home, talking numbers or something. I head directly to the shower, clean up, and take my sweet time. It must’ve driven him mad waiting for me because by the time I’m out he blows a gasket.

“What’s this stunt you pulled last night? Wanting to talk and leaving me a stupid sarcastic note just because I’m late? Where were you?”

“Out,” I shrug. “I didn’t know you were late. You didn’t text.”

“I didn’t tex--oh I see, now we’re being petty yeah?”

That irked me, “I’m not being petty. It’s not like I get the same courtesy when you’re out late!”

“I’m busy, I can’t always be texting you!”

Excuses, I laugh and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Busy what? Screwing other women-”

“Don’t be making shit up-”

“I’ve had people tell me that they see you with other women Harry! S’not a far stretch!”

That quiets him. Finally, he comes forward to stand inches away. “Y/N, c’mon. You and me...this is stupid. Sure I go out to party but I’m not-”

“Stop.” he was actually trying to talk his way out of this. And because I’d rather step in front of an oncoming train than cry in front of him, I head to the front door and walk out. I’d find someplace to crash today, but I wasn’t doing this.

***

“How’re you doing?” Janelle asks. I’d shown up at her doorstep and she set up her guest bed. She had plans so I spent most of my time burying myself in work, trying to get rid of all that angry energy pent up in me. Janelle had just come home.

“I’m just trying to move on. I don’t want to talk about him, I just don’t care at this point--I’m fed up!”

“As you should be,” she agrees. “Listen, I know we had a crazy night yesterday but I’m going out with some friends today and...maybe it’ll help you?”

I think about the killer headache this morning, but I also remember how good it felt to forget for a bit. I agree. Before I know it, Janelle’s found something that fits me and we’re back at a different club than the night before. Her friends are familiar faces but after a few drinks we’re all best friends. It feels great. Until I spot Harry’s face.

“That’s enough,” his face looms over mine as he pushes away the man I’m up against.

“What the fuck Harry...” I trail off as he pulls me away from the middle of the crowd. I try to pry his hand off but there’s too many people and he’s moving too quickly...and I’ve had a lot of drinks. “Let me go!” I say when we finally step away. We’re in what must be a private room. He seemed familiar with it--of course.

“So just because you heard I’m out and about some nights, you decide to come here and fuck around with random men?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him, he was out of his mind. “I’m out having fun with my friends! I’m not here because of you.”

“Really? You come to the same place I come to all the time and dance with these strangers? And you’re drunk as fuck!”

“Since when did you care?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve been doing that perfectly fine the last few months.”

“I’m your bloody husband Y/N, you can’t just-”

“Then act like one!” I shout, and in the muffled quiet of the room with the bass thumping through it rings out. “I don’t need you! And you made it clear you don’t need me. These rings are a fucking joke, here-” I take mine off and throw it at him.

“You don’t mean it-”

“I do.” I give him a level stare, suddenly clear-headed. Maybe I’d process it later, but right now I was finally seeing what he’d become. He deserved to feel how I felt, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. I flip him with both hands, “Quite frankly Harry, you can suck my d-”

“Harry!” A shrill voice rings out from the entrance that now carries the loud beats of the dance floor, swallowing my words. “Liam told me you were here!”

I glance at the brunette in the doorway and back at him. I couldn’t even muster an eye roll; I had enough.

“Y/N!” Harry calls my name as I walk out.

“No it’s me, Becky?!” she tries to correct him. I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to my friends with a drink in my hand, feeling free.

***

“Y/N, it’s Harry. I don’t know how it got this shite just please call me back. Just give me five minutes that’s all I n--message deleted”

“He’s moved on to the office phone then?” Janelle asks, her desk was beside mine so she’d heard him as I checked my messages. It was two weeks since that glorious night when I’d dumped Harry’s ass. Although a lot of my things were still at our house, I was just staying in a hotel right now while I figured things out. One thing I knew for sure though, I didn’t want to see him again.

“It’s pretty pathetic,” I say. It was also pathetic how long I’d stayed waiting around for us to be magically fixed. But that was something I was working on getting past.

“You’re glowing without him,” April says from where she’s getting her files together. “Haven’t you got that showing out east?”

“Yeah, oh god is that the time?” I rush to get my files in order. “I’ll catch up with you later-”

“We’re still getting drinks after?”

“Yes, drinks!” I call out as I leave the office and head down to the lobby. I don’t expect Harry there, and I barely have time for him as he comes up to keep my pace.

“Harry, I’ve got somewhere to be please leave me alone.”

“Y/N, wait just please listen to me.”

“No.”

“2 minutes!”

“Not even 1,” I spot my cab out front and head towards it. I’m about to get in but Harry holds the door. “Harry let go I’m going to be late.”

“Just let me talk to you, please!”

I finally look at him and he’s quite a sight. His hair is matted and without it’s usual bounce. He’s got a rough look and a 5 ‘o clock shadow.

“You had plenty of time to talk to me for months, you were too busy at the club. Sorry not sorry,” I tug at the door and he lets go, I don’t spare a backwards glance as we drive away.

One of the showings is successful, I manage to sell the family on the home and we set up a meeting to go over details at my office later in the week. I’ve got a bounce in my step as I return to the office. I tell the girls I’d meet them at the bar as I finalize my papers at the office. My bounce falters when I go head out after 5 to see Harry waiting outside the building.

“Y/N,” he calls out when he sees me. “I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

“That’s called stalking,” I say. A few people walking past us turn to glance at him and he notices. He moves to the inside lobby and asks me to follow. With a big sigh I do.

“I know what I did.” he begins.

“Congratulations,” I roll my eyes.

“No wait, I know what I did to you. And sorry can’t cover it. Just let me make it up to you, we have history and-”

“You don’t get it.” I stop his monologue from going any further. “I’m gonna be just fine. Without you. You didn’t care about our history until you couldn’t have me. I don’t know what happened to you Harry, but you’re not the man I fell in love with-”

“I know,” he says, tears of frustration coating his lashes. “I fucked up, I-I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and I just-”

“Let her slip away? Is that the best you can come up with?” I scoff. “You know what Harry? I’m done with this! Boy...bye.”

“Y/N just--” he grabs my arm before I can leave and pushes something cold into my palm. My wedding ring.

“I don’t want this,” I push it back in his hand.

“Please just take it--hold onto it,” he pushes it back into mine and closes my fingers over it. “I can’t...I can’t hold onto it just take it! You don’t even have to think about it-”

“Harry,” I soften my tone. He was desperate and even though some part of me thought it was about time he felt this type of way, my heart hurt a little. I didn’t want him to see that though so I just tuck the ring into the pocket of his button up and pat it. “Goodbye Harry.”

I walk away with my head held high even though he calls out to me. I walk the few blocks to where my friends are waiting and their warm smiles are enough to help me push the memory of Harry’s teary eyes, and the real history we did have once upon a time away. I was done with him, no longer thinking about him.

I just kept telling myself, I was rare like a gem and I had to see that. And maybe one day, someone else will too.

[classyfruit]

ClassyfruitbASKet - Part 1

Hello, you lovely bunch! 😘 As the list of my asks keeps getting bigger, I wanted to come up with a solution to a) answer all of your lovely asks but b) keep it very lean and tidy so that my reactions don’t overpower my art.  Thank you ALL for leaving asks and praise in my inbox! 💕  I cherish each and every comment and ask a LOT. It keeps me going and my creative juices flowing. And I ask for your forgiveness for taking so long to react to them! (The RE8 ladies are greedy when it comes to my time and attention. 😅) Today, I will stick to questions and requests concerning my art for the first 10 asks. I’m sure that’s the part you’ll love to see the most. Please know that I read EVERY ask I get. So if I didn’t answer YOUR ask yet, just stick around until next Tuesday.

Thank you VERY MUCH for your love and support, Anon! And as well for the delicious idea of a tied up Lady D. I will definitely consider doing something similar for my Twitter at some point! 😋 I’m sure Mother Miranda would like to prove her superiority just like that. Much love to you and take care!

Hey Anon, thank you for getting in touch and requesting something so cute! In fact I plan to do all of the four Lords as chibis at some point! Because we all need that in our lives! 💕 So STAY TUNED and you shall recieve!

A very valid question, dear Anon! I try to switch it up and draw as many different pets for Lady D (and now Donna and sometime in the future maybe even Miranda), so that everyone gets their chance to daydream and relate. 💗 I’m unfortunately a very shy bean, so I’d not really be comfortable with sharing art that shows how I look irl. 🙈 Thank you for your ask! 😊

Thank you so much for your kind words and your love & support! 😍 I’m super glad you like my version of Alcina - I love to do our Tall Vampire Lady justice with my art. 💪😤 In response to your question concerning our best bratty werewolf dilf Heisenberg, I’m not opposed to drawing him (he can be seen in at least two artworks of mine that I can think of and he will make a comeback for a lot of my other projects) but as I’m a lesbean myself, my focus is definitely more on the beautiful ladies of RE8! 🤤 Thank you for getting in touch, Anon, and have an amazing day! 🌞

@drippykiddworld​, hi!! Thank you for sharing your idea with me! ✨ I hope you enjoyed my artwork with the three of our RE8 madames sharing a very willing sacrifice! 👌😌 And concerning me playing the game, I started out and went about as far as the Beneviento estate and then my time to play sadly ran out. I have been waiting to play desperately, I just can’t seem to find the time. 😅 But I’m not complaining, I LOVE spending my day drawing!

*snorts* Don’t mind if I do, Anon! 😂 I love your mind, keep up the good work!  👏

Hey there, @warmbloodinmarble​, thank you for sharing your awesome idea! I think Alcina would make a SPLENDID french woman to draw! 💕 I’ll keep this idea on my list and draw it as soon as possible! Have a nice day and take care of your creative mind!  😘

Very important question, my dear Anon! I’ll still have to set it up but some time in the future, you will be able to commission me via my Ko-Fi page. Until I get around to doing that, you’re free to contact me via DM on Tumblr or Instagram! See you there! 💕

Ugh, my heart!!! 😍  I would draw this in a HEARTBEAT, all Beauty and the Beast style. I NEED to do this. It really fits in with my plan to do more romantic artwork for Alcina and her pet(s). Thank you for blessing me with this idea, Anon, and have an amazing day! 😘

Hi Anon, thank you for getting in touch and asking your question! 😘  As stated before, I try to vary everything about Lady D’s pets frequently so that everyone can belong and project themselves into our favourite fandom. Definitely go for it, if you’re planning to make art for reader inserts! The world needs more daydream fuel! 😍😍 _____ And that concludes the first batch of our new installment ClassyfruitbASKet! 🍉 🍇 🍓 I hope you’ll find it interesting and if you have a question yourself, feel free to DM me or send me an ask.  I can’t thank you enough for all of your support and the insane amount of love I recieve from all of you on a daily basis! Thank you very much, I appreciate each and every one of you more than words could tell! 😍 See you next Tuesday! Much love, Classy

[alpacaparkaseok]

Book of Soulmates - OT7 Bonus

Hello everyone! Happy Valentine’s day! I know some of you are way ahead of my timezone and have already passed Valentine’s day, but I hope that you guys enjoy this regardless! 

@nochujeonjk​ requested a Yoongi hot & cold au, so I thought that I’d throw together this special little story to wrap up the soulmate aus nicely. hopefully this is alright!

Thank you all for reading, and you’re always welcome to drop in any time. I love hearing from you. Stay tuned for the epilogue to my series ‘Mine’ this week, as well as Jimin’s red string of fate series coming on February 22nd!

premise: how to boys would react with simple day-to-day tasks while managing their soulmate bonds, and how they meet their soulmates

Seokjin - barcode bond

honestly tries not to look at it too much

but there are days when it’s all he can look at

is quite curious about the technology used to scan the barcodes 

when he thinks nobody is watching, he’ll go down to the entrance of the Bighit building and scan his barcode over and over again

he’s a little jealous of the others’ bonds, which seem more personal

but he’s also terrified of the day when he’ll be notified that somebody with his same barcode entered the building

like, how is he supposed to talk to you?

these are usually what he thinks about during boring interviews

but then there’s a day when he’s biking to work

and he’s keeping his head down, just trying to keep out of sight

but he sees you

and he knows

which makes him realize that maybe his bond isn’t so impersonal after all, if he can recognize you without any help of a machine

so when you walk inside a shop and he notices that you do indeed have a barcode bond, which you scan as you walk in, he’s calling Namjoon and telling him he’s going to be a little late

and before he can even think it through, he’s throwing his bike in the bike rack and walking in after you, scanning his barcode

and watches as it declares a match

after that, he realizes he has no clue what he’s doing

but that just makes you smile

every once in a while, Jin will drag you down to the entrance of the Bighit building just to scan both of your barcodes and see them match up

it just never gets old

Yoongi - hot & cold bond

he’s grown up being fairly cold, so he’s used to it

but it’s not the most pleasant sensation

used to take really long, steaming hot showers

but now he just gets in and out as quickly as he can

because he knows that the warmth is only temporary

and he wants you

so when he wakes up one morning absolutely freezing, he can hardly get out of bed.

what he doesn’t know is that you’ve left the country for school, but find yourself in a similar cold situation

Bighit, worried for Yoongi’s health (mentally and physically), set out to find you

it’s pretty easy. a letter, phone call, and plane ticket later, you’re heading back to Seoul just to meet Yoongi and get your body temperatures normal so you can head back to school

Yoongi takes the longest, hottest shower of his life, trying to figure out what life at a warm temperature will be like

but it still does nothing to prepare him for the shock of you does to him

you’re...radiant. smiling from the second you want into the room where he’s waiting for you

and as his internal body temperature soars before settling down to an average level, he just stares at you with the widest eyes

what ensues is a long-distance relationship in which Yoongi claims that he’s cold when you’re gone

you both know that’s not true - after soulmates with this kind of bond meet they have a normal body temperature regardless of distance

but you still cave every once in a while and let him fly you back home to him

the man literally flies you thousands of miles just to cuddle with you for a few days before you have to leave

the boys tease him mercilessly for it

but he just pretends he has no idea what they’re talking about

Hoseok - timer bond

this man strives to be organized - for good reason

he feels like if he’s clean and organized, it’ll make this entire bond easier to manage

he doesn’t very often show how nervous it makes him feel, but there have been a few times that the boys have found him in the studio late at night, eyes closed with his timer covered

everyone is grateful that they don’t have that bond

but Hobi handles it like a champ

he’s smiling when there are only 60 minutes left, because finally, but then he realizes that he’s in the studio

and literally nobody that isn’t authorized is allowed inside

lol you’re totally not authorized

but you’ve also got a package to deliver, which is your part time job as a university student

so when you ask for where you can deliver a package that Hobi ordered online, an intern tells you that he’s in his studio

which leads to you wandering around the Bighit building

utterly lost

and realizing with more panic than you care to admit that you’ve literally only got thirty minutes left before you meet your soulmate

the only thought on both your and Hobi’s mind is how you have to get out

so you take the stairs, when you finally find them with just a few minutes left on your timer

still holding Hobi’s package when you stumble out the doors to find that you’re in a flipping parking garage

who on earth is going to be chilling is a parking garage when they’re about to meet their soulmate?!

Jung Hoseok, that’s who.

he’s debating between driving his car somewhere more central, or sticking around the building

but he’s a fool and dropped his keys

so naturally you pick them up right as he’s running back to grab them, heart pounding out of his chest

needless to say, you get to deliver him the package, his keys, and your heart

0:00

Namjoon - shared pain bond

he immediately apologizes to you in his mind every single time he breaks something an hurts himself

oh he totally knows that you’re gonna give him an earful when you meet

but he’s so excited

like, giddy schoolboy excited to someday meet you

there’s no rush, but he thinks about it a little too much

he’s learned that you must be a little clumsy like him, because it feels like you stub your toe all the time

but he really doesn’t mind

if the boys so much as begin to bring you up, he dies

like the awkward little bean he is

but he also stresses about how he’s supposed to find you

the boys invite him out with some other friends to get him to de-stress

you’re there

he’s there, obviously

and literally everyone else that’s there already is pretty sure that you two are soulmates

so they just watch you two as the night progresses, wondering if either of you will catch on

you literally get up to go to the bathroom and stub your toe on the way out, but Namjoon is so focused on the menu that he doesn’t make the connection. he just frowns a little before continuing asking Jimin what he’s getting to eat

Jimin can’t answer him because he’s laughing so hard

it isn’t until later that night, when you’re at your apartment that you begin to wonder

Namjoon thought you were really cool, and ends up FaceTiming you thanks to the boys dropping several hints

His hands are shaking a little when he pinches his skin, just enough for it to sting

you hiss a little, frowning at your arm before continuing with whatever you were talking about

Namjoon is pretty much out of commission from that point on

so this boy freaking courts you for a couple of weeks before you finally realize that HE’S YOUR SOULMATE AND HE’S KNOWN ALL ALONG

how do you find out?

he tries cooking for you one night and hurts himself consistently enough that you’re left reeling with both laughter and tears 

he’s embarrassed about hiding it from you, but admits that he just didn’t know how to tell you

you tell him that you don’t mind...but that you’re definitely going to use this against him in the future

Jimin - shared dreams bond

the sweetest soulmate ever

with one of the best bonds, everyone tells him

Jimin gets paranoid before he goes to sleep, and repeats “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over again in hopes that it’ll somehow be translated into his dreams

gets super jealous and grumpy if you dream about guys, even if it’s purely platonic

but oh my lanta does he get so excited and giddy when you dream about beautiful things like soulmates

the other boys are so curious about his bond, so they ask him about it al the time

like, “what did she dream about last night, Jiminie?”

he’s positive that you know who he is, he’s sure he’s dreamt of him and the boys countless times

but he also knows that you probably won’t just show up at his dorm

so he’s dying to have something to go off of, to help him find you

that’s when you dream about your first day of university

he knows that campus

and he’s there the next day, mask on and hood up, flowers in hand

he has no clue what he’s doing

but he just hopes that somehow he’ll run into you

the first day he goes there, he comes home empty handed

instead of being all mopey and sad like the boys expected him to be, he’s even more determined than ever

he’s on campus with a new bouquet every day

on the fourth day, you come running over with your books in hand

he dreamt about this last night 

you’ve been scouring every inch of the campus for him, and heard from a friend that there was a mysterious guy chilling in front of the science building

of course the science building is clear on the other side of campus

so you’re out of breath and frazzled by the time you make it over there, but so happy

and Jimin practically throws the flowers at you, he’s suddenly so nervous

which makes you laugh

and your laugh makes him laugh

and that night you dream about each other

Taehyung - initials bond

ugh this is the worst bond

like, Tae will fight anyone on it, it’s hands down the worst

because he’s met countless people with your same initials!

but maybe fate understands that this bond sucks, because it’s also becoming more and more rare

it eventually just gets to a point where Tae decides to take matters into his own hands

he literally designs his own t-shirt with his initials on the back and yours on the front

fans think it’s adorable

you’re shocked when you see it selling out

soon almost every ARMY owns the shirt and begins the ‘initial project’

you don’t want to tell people that you’ve got KTH on your wrist, because what if it’s not him?

but where there a will ARMY, there’s a way

so tae tae finds out through the grapevine about you

and basically calls you out over vlive

it’s hilarious

staff wanna kill him but can’t do anything about it

but man he just wants to meet you

so with some assistance from ARMY, you guys meet

it’s at a flower festival in Ilsan

tae’s wearing his glasses

and all he can think about is that you look like you belong here, among all of these flowers

so he tells you that, with the shyest, sweetest smile

and you marvel that this is the same man that literally hunted you down using social media and his fan base

you’re still a little skeptical, so you ask him how he can be sure that it’s you when there are so many that share your initials

and he just smiles again

and asks if he can hold your hand while you guys walk around and enjoy the festival

so you agree, albeit a little hesitantly

and as you guys walk around, you realize that you know exactly what he’s talking about

hand in hand, smiling up at him and thinking that he belongs with the stars glittering above you, you realize that there’s no way he’s not your soulmate

he looks down at you and sees that you get it

but he wants to make sure you know it anyway

so he shuffles a little closer and squeezes your hand a little tighter

and from then on, you’re known as ARMY’s soulmate, since they helped you two find each other

Jungkook - drawing bond

obviously, Jungkook loves drawing

he’s very good at it, too

so nobody questions him when he’s off in the corner of the practice room scribbling something on his arm or leg

he jokes how about how you two complete each other because you rarely draw, you write

notes, grocery lists, titles to books, whatever

you write, and he draws.

so if you need to buy apples (they’re on sale!) Jungkook is grabbing a pen and doodling a bushel of apples on his knee

you love it

he mainly loves you

the boys tease him nonstop about it, because it’s so painfully obvious

he’s a goner, and you haven’t even met each other

but he’s so nervous to meet you

and there’s no rush, really

but when he sees Tae trying so hard to find his soulmate, he wonders if it’s time for him and you to finally meet

his bond is the easier by far

and there are so many night where he lays in bed with a pen in hand, wondering if he should just go for it. drop his number, an address, his name, anything

but he never does

he’s so afraid

and he’s so in love that he feels like you’ll freak out when you realize that he’s fallen in love with a person he’s never had any face-to-face contact with

but then there’s this night where all the boys are hanging out together and their soulmates are present (because they’ve all met by this point) and Jungkook realizes how happy he feels

like, he’s genuinely happy. for his hyungs, for himself. he’s lucky that he gets to have this strange little family.

and he realizes that you should get to have this, too. 

so that night he scrawls his phone number out on the back of his hand with a simple note

‘call if you feel comfortable with it’

you freak out

like, fist pumping while also wondering if this is gonna blow up in your face

by the time you’ve weighed all the pros and cons, it’s nearly three in the morning. but you’ve got to call him. now.

so you do, secretly praying that you get the voicemail

but kook is up. of course he is, he’s been waiting on the edge of his bed since eleven pm.

he answers and you realize as soon as he says hello that you’ve fallen in love with this man

which is terrifying, but if he was the one to give out his number, he must want to meet you, right? 

right.

when you do meet, everyone is there. all the boys, all of their soulmates. watching as Jungkook leaps off the park bench and runs to you, and he giggles.

giggles. it’s adorable.

and it’s cute and awkward and a little crowded with all 14 of you, but it’s better than you’d ever imagined.

Jungkook waits all of two hours before grabbing your hand and whispering, “I love you”

so you grab a pen from your bag and smile up at him as you write “I love you, too” into your skin

masterlist

aaaand that’s a wrap! overall, this was the 20th and final installment to the Book of Soulmates! This one was a bit different from the others, since the others are actual mini stories with one member at a time, but I hope you enjoyed!

Happy Valentine’s day!! Love you all! Stay tuned for the fun things coming up! Check my navigation tab to see what’s next!

[symphonyofthewrite]

If These Walls Could Talk 

Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)

The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!

It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!

I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!

Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!

Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary:

“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”

Chapter 1: "Lisa”

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

The castle doesn’t like children.

Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.

The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.

The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.

There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.

The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.

All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.

The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.

Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.

Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?

He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.

Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.

Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.

It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.

They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.

They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.

She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.

This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.

The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.

She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.

She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.

The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.

Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.

At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.

And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.

But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.

She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.

Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.

Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.

And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.

And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.

But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.

She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.

Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.

The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.

Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.

She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.

So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.

She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.

‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.

Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.

Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.

They were both alive, once.

That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.

And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.

The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.

Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.

Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.

Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.

And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.

(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)

So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.

Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.

Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’

Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.

The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.

It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.

The castle doesn’t like change.

…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.

And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.

Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.

Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.

The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.

So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.

Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.

If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.

This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.

Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.

It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.

Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.

But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.

His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.

For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.

The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.

The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.

The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.

[love-and-monsters]

Necklace for a Dragon

M dragon X GN reader, 5,975 words

A dragon commissions a necklace for his deceased mother, but he is reluctant to open up about her death. Can you help him work through his grief?

The thin, delicate chain in your fingers clinked quietly as you worked on it. The magnifying glasses perched on your nose enabled you to carefully manipulate the tiny gemstones into place. It was a nice piece, you thought. The white and pale yellow gems set against the deep platinum gave the impression of tiny stars in a night sky.

Your gaze flicked up as you worked. It was a habit from before you’d gotten the bell installed on your door to let you know if a customer had entered, so your gaze moved back to your work before you’d really processed anything you’d seen.

Then your brain caught up with your eyes and your head snapped back up.

There was a man standing in the middle of your store. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a fairy tale. His look was oddly monochrome- he had pale skin, white-blonde hair that curled around his ear and under his chin. Silvery antlers pulled back from his head and a shimmering scaled tail tufted with fur coiled and twitched behind him. His clothes were unreasonably fancy and not at all modern- his shirt was ruffled and he wore a heavy, furred cloak around his shoulders. Gems fairly dripped from his horns and the upper curve of his ears.

The little bell hadn’t even rung to announce his entrance. It was as if he had simply appeared in the room.

“Hello,” you said, whipping your glasses off and staring at him. “Can I help you with something?”

He regarded you with ice-blue eyes. His expression was utterly neutral. “I am looking for jewelry.”

Okay. Good start. Your eyes swept over his frame, assessing him as a customer. He was unfamiliar, but given his mannerisms and the general look of his clothes, he was wealthy. That was good- most of the pieces in your store weren’t made by you. There wasn’t enough of a market to buy your handmade pieces in most cases, which were priced high enough to drive away most typical buyers, and those who were rich enough to afford the splurge were few and far between. Most of the jewelry on the shelves was cheaper, more mass-produced pieces. It wasn’t exactly something you were proud of, but it kept the roof over your head.

He wasn’t looking at any of those pieces, though. He had beelined right for the well-lit display case that showed all your custom jewelry. You slipped out from behind the counter and hurried over to him. “See anything you like?”

His gaze swept over the case. “I am not sure.”

“Well, I also take commissions, so if you want a specific design, I can do that for you,” you said eagerly. Commissions were uncommon, but very much appreciated. You could charge a little more for them and you didn’t have to account for the shelf time.

The man turned toward you. His gaze locked with yours and a chill slipped down your spine. Holy shit. With a sudden clenching in the pit of your stomach, you knew that this wasn’t an ordinary monster of Fortune Falls. This was one of the Old Ones.

The Old Ones were not necessarily old individuals, though, even though the one in front of you appeared to be in his twenties, he could be ancient. It was their species that were old, though, ones that had existed before civilization and kept to those old ways. They radiated powerful magic and rarely interacted with humans at all. Even other monsters were uncomfortable around them.

You had only seen one once before, an ancient golden dragon. You steeled your will. A customer was a customer. Even if Old Ones had an irritating habit of paying in extremely outdated currency- you would be lucky if he paid with something from the modern millennium.

“A specific design,” the man repeated, drawing you out of your daze. You nodded attentively.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” you said. The man exhaled slowly. He had the expression of someone unused to interacting with others- he didn’t seem to be holding a stern expression because he actually felt stern, but more because he had completely forgotten you were supposed to change your expression to let others know what you were feeling. “Maybe you could tell me what the jewelry is for and I can give you some suggestions.”

The man turned back to the display case. “It is for a funeral.”

“Oh,” you said. “For, ah. For you or for the, erm. Deceased?” It was not the first time someone had come to your shop looking for jewelry to bury someone in.

“Deceased.” There was no emotion in the man’s voice, but it was not the lack of emotion of the passionless. It was the sound of someone who had been exercising their emotions so much they didn’t have anything left to give. Pity stirred in your chest.

“Well, I’m sure we can find you something nice,” you said. “There are a lot of nice pieces here.” You gestured broadly at the wall of jewelry. The man peered at the necklaces lining the bottom row. His tail weaved back and forth, flowing like a river.

After a moment, he shook his head. His curls swayed, brushing against his chin and over the tips of his ears. “No,” he said. “Something else.”

You froze, waiting for his next move. Instead of turning toward the door, he turned toward you. You let out a sigh of relief. “Would you like something made specifically for you, sir?”

He lowered his chin in the slightest of nods. A faint flicker of bitterness invaded your mind before you shoved it away; the idea that you were going to make something that was going to have exactly one showing before it was being shoved underground wasn’t something you were overly pleased about. Then again, plenty of the extremely rich had pieces of jewelry made for them only to cram it into a closet after one night out. This was a little more important than that, wasn’t it?

“It would need to be elaborate,” he said. “Something worthy of my mother.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. “I can sketch up a few designs overnight and you can come back tomorrow to look at them. We can work from there.”

The man’s head dipped in a slow nod. “I will see you then.” Not waiting for any response, he whirled, cape swirling around him, and headed out the door.

The bell still didn’t ring. You glared at it until the man left, then pulled out your stepladder and went to check on it. When you tapped it, it jingled merrily. Hm. Weird. You moved the ladder away and experimentally swung the door open and closed. The bell rang every time. Okay. Really weird. But you had more important things to do.

You placed the stepladder away again and sat behind the front counter. There was a sketchpad situated under the desk for situations such as this. Usually, you had a little more idea what the customer wanted. You kicked yourself for not asking any more questions. He had left before you could get some clarification. You sketched out a few designs, most of them similar to ones you already had on the shelf. They were pretty, of course- all your jewelry was nice, and it tended to be difficult to make shiny things look that bad. But they almost certainly weren’t what your client wanted.

Night fell. You closed up your shop, but stayed in the back, eating takeout. You had an apartment, but it was barely bigger than your shop and you spent so much time here that you’d just moved a couch and some blankets into the back room, just in case you wanted to crash for the night. Really, the only practical use your apartment had was that it had a shower you could be sure no one else was using. Given your cooking skills, it was probably safer if you didn’t have access to a kitchen.

You sketched on the pad late into the night, growing more and more frustrated the longer you tried. Nothing seemed to be coming out right, and the things that looked kind of good were too reminiscent of stuff you’d already made.

Grimacing, you rolled your stiff neck and shifted your position. One of your legs was starting to fall asleep. Maybe you should just go to bed. Your mind wasn’t getting any clearer the later you stayed up, and maybe you would get an idea in your dreams. It wasn’t common, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting for inspiration to strike.

You leaned your head back, eyes closing for a moment. The image of the man swam back to your mind. He had been rather beautiful. The silvery sheen of his tail had been almost mesmerizing. It reminded you of sunlight gleaming off flowing water, or maybe oozing mercury. And his multi-pointed horns, glittering with gems had been striking as well.

Inspiration slammed into your mind like a lightning bolt. A sizzling, frenetic energy jumped through your veins. The idea seized you with a frightening ferocity. You had felt this before, the few times when an idea had seized you with a creative fervor. There was no way you were going to be sleeping now. Instead, you scrambled for another piece of paper. You needed to get this down before the idea faded.

It took you well over an hour of sketching, erasing, and fine-tuning before you’d worked the design into something you were happy with. Once it was done, you collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change your clothes. Sleep swept over you in an immediate wave.

You woke late enough that you barely had time to throw on another set of clothes and snag a granola bar before you had to open the shop. Fortunately, the design you’d made the night before still looked good in the morning light. The amount of times you’d written something in a sleep-hazed frenzy only to wake up and discover that it was absolute garbage was uncomfortable to even think about.

Despite your somewhat unkempt appearance and your tiredness, you still managed to make a couple sales. One of them was an engagement ring, one of your own designs, which had you feeling quite proud for the rest of the day. You added a few finishing touches to your sketches with a flush of enthusiasm. The day was nearly over, but the man hadn’t showed up again.

Someone cleared their throat right in front of you. You startled, knocking over a stack of coins and watched as they rolled under your counter. “Dammit.” Grimacing, you looked up.

The man was standing over you. He watched as one of the coins rolled in a neat circle next to his foot and fell over. “You should pay more attention,” he said. He stooped and picked the coin up, placing it delicately on the counter. “It is bad customer service to leave a customer waiting.”

“There’s supposed to be a bell,” you muttered under your breath. If he heard you, the comment didn’t bother him. He watched as you scrambled to pick up the few coins you could see. You could get the ones under the desk later; it wouldn’t do to go crawling around on your hands and knees in front of an important customer.

“I have the sketches,” you said. “There’s a little area we can sit in over here.” You led him over to the small alcove, separated from the rest of the shop by curtains. It was basically just a table in an area that would give the two of you a little privacy. Not that it was terribly necessary- there wasn’t anyone in the shop. But it was nice.

The man swept over to the table and paused. You looked where he was looking and paused. There were two chairs at the table and both of them had tall backs that left no space for a tail. “I might have a stool somewhere,” you said. “Hold on.”

The man lifted his hand, revealing long, elegantly manicured fingernails. “No need. I will be fine.” He sat a little awkwardly, tail curling across his lap. You hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him.

“So, I have a few sketches that I wanted to show you,” you said, spreading them across the table. The man reached out and picked up a few of them, looking over them with a critical eye. His expression was utterly emotionless. You swallowed uncomfortably. It was always weird to have someone looking at your art right in front of you.

Each drawing was examined and he placed it on the table in front of you. The stack of rejected drawing kept getting higher. The back of your neck tickled with sweat. Was he going to like any of them?

He reached the bottom of the pile and paused. Right. Your final drawing. You sucked on your lower lip. His expression was still unreadable. Finally, he placed the drawing on the table in front of you. “This one,” he said in a soft voice, tapping a finger in the center of the drawing.

It was the design you’d based off his antlers. You nodded, sweeping it back off the table. “Great. So, next we’ll need to pick the base metal color. I’ve got a few of them. There’s silver, gold, platinum…” You spread the sample metals across the table in front of them. His gaze swept over them for a moment, then he tapped the platinum band. “Okay. Good. Are there any specific colors you want in it? I’ll try to match the colors as well as I can, and you’ll get approval at all stages.”

The man sat back in his seat. For the first time, you saw a flicker of discomfort cross his face. “Blue,” he said after a moment.

You noted the color down on your pad and gathered your drawings back together. “Great. That should look nice.” You glanced into his face. His expression was still fairly emotionless, but you thought you were getting better at seeing the subtle tension on his face that indicated changes in expression. There was a tension around his eyes and a tightness around his lips that made him look tired. The sort of blank, weary tiredness of someone who was struggling to keep going. “Um. When do you need this by?”

“Four days from now,” he said. “Is that acceptable?”

“It’ll be a rush job,” you said automatically, then cringed. That felt insensitive. The weariness in his face grew a little more present as he bowed his head in a small nod.

“That will be extra?” he said. He started to reach for his pocket, but you waved your hands hurriedly.

“Uh, no, no. It’ll be fine. No extra charge.” It was probably a bad decision. There was a reason you charged extra for rush orders. But he looked exhausted and if it was for a funeral, he was likely going through a lot. It felt wrong to add onto that.

The man stared at you for a moment. He said nothing, but there was gratitude in his expression. “How much do I owe you?”

You told him the price. He reached into his pocket for a moment, then extracted several bills. You held your breath as he handed them over. Bills was a good sign. You’d once been paid exclusively in heavy gold coins and it had been impossible to find a bank that would exchange them for actual currency.

After a moment, in which you were able to reassure yourself that yes, the bills were all modern, you tucked the money into your pocket. “The rest I’ll want upon delivery,” you said. “This is just an advance.” The man nodded. “Also, I’ll need your name.”

“Solomon,” he said. He gave no last name. You didn’t bother to ask for one.

“Then I’ll see you in a few days for pickup.” You smiled at him. He gave a small bow and swept back out the door.

As it turned out, you saw him much sooner than that. You closed the shop slightly early and started heading back home. It wasn’t the best idea, to take a full night off when you had a rush order you needed to complete, but you were starting to feel a little gross. It was time to get some food that was slightly better than takeout.

The air was chilly and it was drizzling as you walked across the street and headed toward your apartment building. Then you came to a stop, squinting at the man standing in a tiny alcove of trees. His clothes were ostentatious and he looked more than a little out of place, like a prince crouching in a stable. His head was tilted back, staring up at the rain dribbling from the sky. It trailed in little rivulets down his sharp features.

“Solomon?” you said before you could think better of it. He lowered his head and turned to face you. His expression was solemn, but there was a new level of exhaustion in it. It looked more like he was too tired to make any expressions other than weariness.

He nodded to you. “Hello.”

You paused, a little awkward. He didn’t seem overly keen to talk, but he wasn’t exactly moving away from you either. “What are you still doing here?”

Solomon closed his eyes and swayed unsteadily. Automatically, you darted forward to try to catch him. At the same moment, he stuck a hand out to prop himself up on a nearby tree. You collided, his hand fumbling awkwardly through the air until it came to a rest on your shoulder. There was a moment of stumbling as you adjusted to his weight. He was heavier than he looked. His tail wrapped around one of your legs as he struggled to catch himself again.

After a few moments of fumbling, the pair of you managed to find a balance. His weight pressed down on you, leaving you panting with the effort of holding him upright. “Are you okay?” you managed.

Solomon’s chest expanded against you as he took in a deep breath. One of his hands pressed against a tree trunk and he slowly lifted himself back up. “I’m all right,” he said. His eyes closed, but this time, he didn’t sway dangerously. He just let out a deep sigh.

You slid away from him, relieved to have his weight off your back. “Are you sure?” You hesitated for a moment, debating the pros and cons, then kept talking. “Do you… do you need some help?” The words came out of you slowly. You didn’t have a lot of experience trying to give other people your assistance; you were solitary by nature and rarely gave or asked for help.

Solomon closed his eyes for a moment. His long, snow-white lashes nearly touched his cheekbones. “I am just tired. I have not been home in some time.” There was a terrible weariness in his voice, like each word was a struggle to get out of his mouth.

“Do you need help getting there?” you said. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you could actually help him get home. Didn’t most of the Old Ones live in the mountains? You didn’t even have a car.

“No,” he said. “I…” He hesitated, then ducked his head a little, looking intently at the ground at his feet. “I have not been home because I do not want to go back.”

The awkward silence grew thicker. You cleared your throat. “Er. Is it because of your mom, or…?”

His lips curled up to show the slightest flicker of fang. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “Er.” A suggestion floated across your mind. “You could come to my apartment for a bit. You look tired.” The instant the idea left your lips, you felt stupid. You were tired too, and you didn’t really feel up to entertaining a stranger, much less an Old One who likely had never been in an apartment building. On the other hand, leaving him alone on the street felt gross too. Well, he probably wouldn’t take you up on the offer anyway-

“I would appreciate that,” he said. “After you.” He gestured to the sidewalk in front of you.

Well. Okay. This was happening. You walked ahead of him, trying frantically to remember the last time you’d vacuumed. Had it been last weekend? Hard to say. It honestly kept slipping your mind. Oh, god, when had you last dusted? Did Old Ones care about stuff like that?

In no time at all, you were at the front door to your building. You fumbled with your keys for a moment before your door clicked open. Solomon stepped into your building with an expression of mild curiosity.

There was nothing fancy about the lobby to your building. There was a threadbare rug and a slightly shoddy desk in a corner. The doorman, a medusa with massive snakes coiling around his head, looked up. His eyes fell on Solomon sweeping in behind you and he raised is scaled brows. You mouthed ‘tell you later’ and headed for the elevator.

Solomon looked momentarily confused when you gestured for him to follow you inside, but he stepped in regardless. You tapped your floor button and the elevator doors slid shut.

You were already braced for the weird jolt that happened every time the elevator started, but you’d completely forgotten that Solomon wasn’t. He seized your elbow as the floor juddered under your feet. His expression was smooth, but his grip on your arm was tight.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s just an elevator.” You couldn’t tell if he understood what an elevator was, but your lack of concern seemed to appease him. His grip on your elbow loosened, though he didn’t remove his hand.

Solomon brushed past you to get off the elevator once it stopped, giving it a suspicious look over his shoulder. You bit your tongue. Do not laugh at the powerful monster. Even if he is looking at the elevator like it might jump at him.

You jostled the lock a few times before your door swung open. Solomon was tall enough to just look over your shoulder into your fairly tiny apartment. It only had a couple of rooms, and both of them could be charitably described as cozy. You scrambled to grab a few of the carelessly-tossed bits of packaging that hadn’t yet made their way to the garbage can and pushed them out of sight. You had definitely forgotten to dust for a while; Solomon picked up one of your books, then hurriedly ducked his head into his elbow to sneeze.

“Sorry. I don’t come here all that often,” you said. Solomon sniffed and put the book back down.

“I have never been inside a human dwelling before. Are they all so…” He trailed off, looking around the room. “So compact?”

“They’re not if you have more money,” you said. “Um. I can get you something to eat or drink? Or get you something to make you more comfortable? You can sit, if you want.”

Solomon scanned the room and his eyes fell on the small, but fairly cushy, couch. He approached it slowly, then, after testing the cushions with a hand, sat down.

It was strange to see him seated on your overly-plush couch. The heavy fur ruff of his cloak and the fine regality of his face were at odds with the barely maintained shabbiness of your apartment. It was like looking at a historical reenactor on break. It just looked off.

“So, uh,” you said, fumbling for something to do with your hands. “How are you doing?”

It was a dumb question, but you were having trouble coming up with things to say. Solomon looked at you. There was something glassy in his expression. You paused in your aimless fidgeting.

“I am…” The words seemed to take considerable effort. He closed his eyes and swayed. You placed the mug you’d grabbed on the counter, fully prepared to lunge for him if he showed signs of fainting.

Fortunately, he only swayed for a moment before his eyes opened again and he slumped back into your cushions. “I have had a long few days,” he said.

“Yeah?” You picked the mug back up and slid it into your coffee maker. You had no idea if he would like it, but you felt like you needed some. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

He gave you a stony look. “Do you know who I am?”

It was such an unbelievably douchey question spoken with such earnestness that you snorted. “No. Not really. You haven’t told me much.”

“I am the Lord Solomon, ruler of the lands from the town to the eastward river,” he said. The words were grand, but his tone was bored. “My mother’s death places me at the top of the line of succession. There had been an enormous amount of political posturing.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process what he was saying. “I wasn’t aware this area had a lord.”

“It may be a bit above mortal understanding,” Solomon said. “We operate outside mortal laws, and our ownership of the land does not fall in line with your understanding.” He flexed his fingers and clenched them into fists repeatedly. His tail twitched back and forth. “Indeed, these past couple of weeks have been stressful.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you said honestly. You picked up your mug, now filled with steaming coffee, and walked over to the couch. He looked up at you as you sat next to him. His eyes flicked toward the mug and you saw him sniff the air curiously. “It’s coffee,” you said. “Do you want some?”

“Yes,” he said. “I know what coffee is.” Your hand was already sort of extended toward him, so he easily reached out and took it from you. Before you could do anything other than stare in surprise, he had tilted it up to his mouth and drained it in a few quick gulps. “Thank you.”

There was one of the Old Ones sitting on your couch and he had just stolen your coffee. Presumably, it would be a very bad idea to yell at him, but you still kind of wanted to. “Okay,” you said in a barely-restrained voice, “Cool. I guess I did offer.”

Solomon caught the irritation in your tone. “I am truly grateful for your assistance. I will admit that I was unwilling to return home.”

“It probably feels weird that she’d not there anymore, right?” you said. Solomon looked at you for a moment, then gave a tiny, hesitant nod. “I know how that feels.” You paused, swallowing hard. “I lost my dad five years ago now. It was rough. I can’t imagine having to deal with lordship on top of all that.”

Solomon kept looking at you with wide eyes. He didn’t seem to believe that you, a lowly mortal human, could comprehend his feelings. You decided to wait until he was feeling better to be insulted by that. “I am sorry for your loss,” he finally said, sounding a little more robotic than sincere. You decided he probably didn’t get out much.

“It’s okay. It was a while ago.” You leaned back on the couch. “You want to talk about it?”

Solomon kept staring at you. “Talk about it?”

“You know. Say all the stuff you’re feeling. It might help,” you said. He kept looking at you. The concept seemed entirely foreign to him. “Um. Like. How are you feeling right now?”

He looked at you for a long, uncertain moment. “Tired,” he finally said. “I am tired. Of trying to manage land squabbles. Of trying to plan my mother’s funeral. From dealing with all the new responsibilities my position entails.” He rubbed his forehead. “And I miss her. I miss being able to see her. I miss being able to speak with her about her responsibilities. I miss hunting with her.” His voice choked and he made a gulping noise that seemed to surprise him. you reached out and tentatively patted his shoulder.

“I know. It’ll get better. But it’s gonna hurt for a long while,” I said. “It’s gonna be hard.” Solomon gave an absent nod, looking down at his cup. “You know, there’s a grief counseling support group in town. If you want to go to it sometimes, I can take you there. I go there still, when it’s bad.”

Solomon looked blank. “A support group?”

“It’s a group of people who all lost someone important to them who get together and talk about their feelings. And they all help each other. You can learn a lot about dealing with grief from going. And sometimes hearing about other people’s problems can make it easier to deal with your own.” Solomon blinked a few times. His eyes were abruptly watery and you realized you weren’t entirely sure how to deal with him suddenly breaking into tears in your living room. You patted his shoulder awkwardly. “It might help? I think? I know you’re not like most of us, but it could still be good. I don’t think grief is all that different across species.”

He inhaled slowly. There was a little tremble in it, like he was still dangerously close to crying. “I think I would like that,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“Okay,” you said. “It meets Wednesdays.” You paused. “Do you know what Wednesdays are?”

He snorted. “I have a concept of human time.”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. Good.” You sat in silence for a few more moments. There was still tiredness in the set of Solomon’s shoulders, but he looked more at peace than he had a few moments ago.

Eventually, he got to his feet. “I should return home,” he said. “I will see you again.” He paused. “And thank you.”

“No problem.” You stood up and started to lead him toward the door. “We support each other, you know?” He nodded.

You stayed up for a while after he left your apartment. It felt strange, that such a conversation had taken place between you and an Old One. They seemed so ancient and remote, and yet you had just had a conversation with one on the loss of a parent. And he had seemed utterly normal.

Odd. Not unpleasant, just… odd.

Your shop was quiet the next day, so you spent much of it working on the commission. Your thoughts were occupied with Solomon. How something so powerful had managed to look so vulnerable- it stuck with you.

Solomon didn’t show up for the next few days, which gave you some time to finish the necklace. It was good work, in your opinion, sturdy and beautiful. The long, antler-like branches were designed to rest on the clavicles and twist up the throat.

The necklace was done in time for the meeting on Wednesday, so you packed it into a box and took it with you to your apartment. You usually brought some sort of food with you to the meetings. It seemed polite, and people usually enjoyed it.

When you emerged from your apartment, Solomon was standing there. He was still wearing his heavy robes, with the thick fur ruff, and it was attracting a lot of stares. He didn’t seem to notice it. His eyes locked onto you as soon as you emerged from the building.

“Hello,” he said. “We are still going together, yes?” Despite his serious expression, there was a note of hesitancy in his voice.

“Yeah, we are,” you said. “Come on. I’ll show you the way there.”

It was a cozy little building that the meetings took place in. There were only four other people in the group, and they all stared at Solomon when he walked in. You gave an awkward wave. “Hey. Uh, this is Solomon. We met, uh, recently, and he wanted to come to the meeting.”

The man who led the group, a bulky and intimidating werewolf, locked eyes with you. His confusion and shock were blatantly written across his face. You tried to communicate your own surprise and bewilderment at the situation, but it was difficult when his eyes kept going back to Solomon. Thankfully, the Old One didn’t seem to have noticed. He just crossed the room and took one of the seats.

The meeting went as usual, except for everyone’s glances at Solomon. If he was bothered by their constant staring, he didn’t show it. You occasionally reached out to pat his hand or his leg. Everyone stared when you did that, like you were casually touching the sun itself. He didn’t speak much, except to give the bare basics of his story. But he paid intent attention to the stories of others, apparently interested in what they were saying.

“So,” you said as you stepped outside after the meeting, “how was that?”

“Interesting,” Solomon said. “Everyone just talked about their loved ones and their feelings.”

“Yeah. It helps to talk about the people you love and how you’re dealing with everything. It helps to know there are other people who care,” you said. “Oh, and, uh, by the way, I brought this with me.” You reached into your pocket and removed the small box.

Solomon delicately opened it and looked down at the necklace. He traced its lines with a finger. His lashes fluttered as he blinked rapidly. “She- My mother would have liked it.”

His voice broke. You leaned into his side, letting him rest some of his weight against you. His tail twined around your leg, as if seeking comfort. “You can cry. Remember? We said it was good to cry.”

Solomon shuddered and tears started to drip down his cheeks. He cried in silence, leaning on you heavily. You allowed him to, only speaking to soothe him.

Eventually, he petered out. You offered him a pack of tissues. He mopped at his face. “Thank you,” he said, voice rusty.

“Of course. Like I said, it’s good to have other people you can count on.” You patted his arm gently.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “I was wondering. The funeral is… soon. Perhaps, if you were willing, you would come with me?” You stared. “You do not need to feel obligated. It is just- you have helped me, recently. I feel that it would be nice to have someone there who understands.”

“Sure,” you said. “I’d be okay with that.” Solomon nodded, then reached into his pocket. He retrieved a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to you. Your mouth dropped open. It was mostly fifties, with several hundred bills wadded up in the middle. “This… I think this is more than we agreed on.”

“You have given me a greater gift than just the necklace, so I feel that I should pay you back in kind.” Solomon squeezed your shoulder. “Thank you. I will see you again soon.”

His form rippled and extended into a massive, serpentine dragon. Its scales reflected opalescently in the sunlight and his antlers gleamed like metal. There were gasps around you, but your eyes were fixed only on him. He looked back at you with a surprising amount of affection for a draconic face, then he swooped upward and vanished. You stared as he vanished into the sky, awe swelling in your chest. “See you again soon,” you said, half to yourself. “And thank you, too.”