#what is it with me posing characters working at desks this is like my third one lmao

[diamondcitydarlin]

Working late

[hxjikonn]

Hi, dear! Congratulations for the 143 followers! I hope by time you read this the followers has already grown past 143! You deserve that much of love because your writing is just so amazing! I hope more people can found your account and love it just like how I love it to the core!

If you don't mind, can I request a short scenario of Azul, Vil, and Malleus (separately) with a gn s/o who likes to wear his clothes in private? Like, when the character enters his room, he found his s/o wearing his dorm uniform and trying to mimick his usual action in front of the mirror. What will they do?

A/N: WAIT STOP THIS IS TOO CUTE 😭🥹♥︎ HOPE YOU LIKE HOW I WRITE THIS ONE!! sorry it took too long for me to respond too🥹

Play dress up

☆Staring☆: Azul Ashengrotto, Vil Schoenheit and Malleus Draconia.

Synopsis: Their reaction to their s/o wearing their clothes

Azul Ashengrotto

You poked his cheek again, getting impatient, he sighs and looks at you, you had a visible upset pout on your face that caused him to chuckle slightly “My little sea angel, can you hold on just a bit longer? I’m almost done” he pleaded whilst turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.

You groaned and sat on the floor, you were bored out of your mind waiting for him, “this is the third time you’ve said that…” you mumbled, “I know…I know, I’m sorry, I’ll be done shortly okay?” He cooed kissing your forehead. You looked up at his desk, he still had so much to finish… “Azul, maybe I should just go home…you look really busy and I don’t want you to rush if because of me” you stood up from the floor.

He pulls you closer to him causing you to lightly plop on his lap, “Noooo don’t leave. I promise I’ll be done soon…” he whines squeezing your waist with his arms. You yourself really didn’t want to leave aswell, so you nodded and promised you’ll stay.

“You can wait for me in my room, it’s much comfier there” he says and you lit up with excitement, there were only a few instances where you got to stay in Azul’s room, and be all by yourself…he never really left you there in fear you’d find his pictures from when he was younger.

“Kay!! I’ll go set the movie!! I’ll wait for you byeee!” You stood up from his lap and ran out, Azul could only laugh in both nervousness and adoration from your excitement. When you got there your eyes sparkled with curiosity, you didn’t wanna make a mess of course but you sure did take your time to look and search every corner of his room.

You did find his album and maybbeeee took pictures of his baby photos on your phone, when you had nothing to do and Azul still hasn’t arrived, one particular thing caught your interest. His closet

You skimmed through his clothes and found another pair of his dorm uniform, probably from his first year since it was a bit smaller than his new one, an idea popped in your head and you hurriedly changed into it. And yes you even included the fedora and scarf.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and giggled, though it was a smaller version, it was still a little big for you, you took pictures and posed while laughing. Then you start to remember Azul’s little habits and started acting like him.

You sat on his desk pretending to do paper work “Later Y/n, I’m busy with boring papers” you mimicked his voice as best as you could. Laughing at yourself in between sentences. You started to get in character more and didn’t notice the time passing. Soon Azul entered the room to see you standing in front of his bed facing away from him, a hand on your hip and the other holding a doodled contact you made.

“Hey you…yeah I’m talking to you octo-plush, make a deal with me…“ you said holding the doodled contract up to the octopus plushy Azul bought you… he laughs quietly before clearing his throat “I’ll make a deal with you instead.” He says suddenly, you turned to face him in panic, so much so that the fedora that was too big for your head slanted, covering your face, you quickly took off the hat and looked at your boyfriend who had the biggest grin on his face.

Unbeknownst to you, your face had already tinted red, he laughs at the sight. He walks up to you and cups your face in his hands peppering you with kisses, “You look cute in my clothes sea angel, do you wanna keep them?” He asks with the softest tone. You nodded with smile, “Okay, I’ll let you, but only because you make a convincing ‘Azul’ you might just fool the twins if you wanted to” he teased. Earning an eye roll from you,

He kisses your cheek once more and lets your face go “As much as I love to see you in those, I know they aren’t comfy, so why dont we both get changed and start the movie?” he took the scarf off you and hung it up, “Yeah okay, I was just going to do that before you came in anyways” you said while walking to the bathroom to change

“Are you sure? You seemed busy trying to persuade octo-plush to sign the contract” he teases again while taking his tie off, “Shut uuuppp” you whined in the bathroom, and he laughed, once you both got changed you cuddled up in his bed and watched the movie, and no the teasing did not stop.

Vil Schoenheit

You accompanied him in one of his photo shoots today, he wanted to see you there as he was posing for the camera, thinking you’d be mesmerized by his beauty. It turned to be the other way around, Vil is always professional, not distracted by eyes or mumbles and whispers from around him.

You were a different case though, since you were his ‘beloved potato’… “Okay I think we should take five everyone!” The photographer announced, Vil wasn’t at his best today, mainly because you flash him the prettiest smiles when he glances over to you during his photoshoot. Part of him also wants to blame that he’s tired but we all know that’s an excuse to go home early so he can spend time with you.

You meet him half way, jogging over to him with a water bottle, a mirror and and his make up bag in hand. He mouths a small thanks and drinks as you hold up the mirror for him. You stared at him with pure awe in your face “so pretty…” you unknowingly mumble out loud. Vil looks up from the mirror to meet your eyes, the look on your face was enough to make him erupt in a fit of laughter.

You tilt your head to the side, confused at his reaction, suddenly you were pulled closer to your lover and showered with soft feather like kisses leaving lipstick stains on all over your face. “Dearest, I love you, I do but sometimes you make me wonder if your really an enchantress who’s got a love spell on me” he jested, framing your face with his hands. “Hey even if I did you don’t mind right?” You joked back, smiling up at him.

He rolled his eyes and huffed, “Well, if you’re little spell kept me from focusing on my job then yes I do mind…” you felt him repeatedly pinch your cheeks softly, “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything…” you defended, “You’re being a menace by being so adorable, and you dont even know it!” he declared

You pretended to be offend with a huge dramatic gasp “Vil Schoenheit are you saying I’m a distraction??” You squinted your eyes pretending to be mad “Indeed potato, a very eye pleasing, heart wrenching distraction.” He laughs pulling out his phone to snap a picture of your kiss mark covered face.

“So, I need you to stay in my dressing room for the time being” he says as he posts the picture he took just now on his magicam’s story, “What?? But I came here to watch you work!” You whined, “Yes I know, But I’m never going to finish if I keep looking at you instead of the camera darling…” you opened your mouth to further protest but Vil cuts you off with a quick peck on your lips, leaving you defeated.

“It’s only until I finish potato, and hey you can even play around with the clothes and make up, play dress up while I work” he cooed, sighing you agreed with a nod, “Okay…I’ll wait for you in there…” he smiled and kissed your forehead again, you wanted to kiss him too but in fear of ruining his make up last minute, you just kissed his hand and mouthed a little goodluck before he walked back infront of the camera.

You entered his dressing room, deep down you knew it would be huge and grand, but NOT THIS HUGE AND GRAND, the rotating shoe wrack was something you thought you could only see in movies, not just that, bags, jewelry, fancy tops, clothes, even dresses?? Your boyfriend’s closet could put every mall out of business…”he’s right…I can play dress up here…” and so you did. (Right after you took off the kiss marks ofc)

Hours passed like seconds as you indulged in the variety of options you had in there, a particular piece did caught your eye though, you remembered Vil wearing it on one of his many many events, he looked so beautiful in it, it made you wonder if you could look as pretty in it as he was.

You put it on very carefully not wanting to damage it in anyway, it was a little big on you, but it didn’t look bad, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the outfit looked stunning, it felt so nice but you laughed thinking you didn’t suit it. “It’s pretty, but I think Vil wore it a lot better, I don’t do this outfit any justice at all” you said aloud, talking to yourself while you look down at the clothing.

“Now that’s just preposterous…you look amazing in it, it should be honored to be worn by you.” Vil’s voice suddenly came from behind you, you shot up and met his gaze in the mirror as he walked behind you. “Vil! Y-You’re done? Wow time went by that quick! I didn’t hear you come in…” you stammered, face heating up from embarrassment as he hummed in response and hugged you from behind.

“I was just about to..take it off…” you fiddled with your hands, “Why?” He asked, voice vibrating through you due to how close he is, “Well…it’s your clothes…aren’t you mad?” You asked him, “Why would I be mad? I’m the one who told you to play dress up…” he chuckled “Plus I had the privilege to see you look so lovely wearing my clothes….” He added turning you to face him.

“Oh please…” you laughed at his compliments, “No wait, I am mad about one thing…” the color drained from you as you looked up at him in fear, “the audacity…” he started, “You wiped off my kiss marks? How dare you!” He jokingly exclaimed, you looked at him deadpanned. “Well I couldn’t look pretty with kiss marks all over my face!” You said

“Hm…funny, My magicam’s story reactions said otherwise” he showed you, the picture he took earlier posted on his magicam’s story, “You posted it?!” You face once again grew tinted looking at all the views and reactions on his post. “I had to share the object of my affection to the world so they can adore you as much” he proclaimed. You turned your back to him, making a bee line to the small changing room with an upset face.

Once you came out, you were once again smothered in affection, “Will you take my love as an apology gift?” He asked, “Treat me for dinner and I just might take you up on that offer…” you negotiated, “fine, I get to pick the restaurant though…” he says “Mmkay, lets go I’m starving..” you held his hand as you both walk out of the dressing room.

Don’t worry, after that, Vil will surely take you back there to play dress up, this time with him present.

Malleus Draconia

“I wonder if he’s feeling better?” You asked yourself as you were waiting for Lilia outside the dormitory of diasomnia, your fae prince has recently caught a cold, normally Lilia would’ve been able to take care of Malleus himself like he always does, however since a certain someone (you) came along…Malleus always looks for you to come take care of him.

“Oh thank the 7 from above you came…” Lilia said his dorm uniform ragged and his hair a mess, “oh god what happened?? Are you okay???” You frantically asked, walking inside the dormitory, there you were met with large thorns engulfing the furniture, crawling up on the walls and some were even fighting the students.

“What the hell is going on???” You panicked, “It’s simple really, your boyfriend is getting crankier by the minute and if he doesn’t see you he’ll tear this dormitory apart brick by brick” Lilia started pushing you up the staircase to go to Malleus’s room in a hurry, Infront of Malleus’s door stood Silver and Sebek, you cant tell if they’re relieved to see you or scared for your well being…

“Welp! in you go, stay safe!” Lilia shoves you inside and locks the door behind you. Everything went by so fast you barely had processed it, suddenly a low grumbling noise interrupted your train of thought. “Oh shit…” you whispered, whilst gripping on to the basket filled with stuff you bought for sick tsunotaro.

You gulped before taking another step, when you did though, he seemed to sense it sending you another low growl, his back was turned so he couldn’t see who you were. Slowly you crept up closer behind him, you reached out to rub his back for him to know it’s you “Hey Mal—“ before you could even begin to, thorns flew out of nowhere grabbing your arm.

Good thing you were quick enough to dodge it, only sacrificing the cloth of your sleeve and a few scratches from the thorns. “Ah…” you winced and hissed at the little wounds in your arm. Malleus turned to you angrily, as he didn’t know it was his lover…the moment he found out though. His expression changed into an apologetic one.

The truth of it all was that he’d been waiting for you the whole day, but since you had classes and other stuff he had to bare being sick without you beside him. He quick but gently embraced you, pulling you into his arms burying himself in your hair and his tail coiling around your leg wanting to have more of your warmth. There you felt how cold he was… before you could ask him if he was okay, once again you were interrupted.

“I’m sorry my love, I didn’t know it was you…usually I’d be able to feel you when you’re near but I’m afraid this cold is getting the best of me… I’m really sorry” he apologizes, voice coarse and tired. You managed you wriggle out his arms a little, and you grabbed the basket you accidentally dropped on the floor, you took out the soup you made that was in a small container, thankful it didn’t spill.

You gently pulled away from the hug and cupped his face in your warm hands, “It’s okay…you don’t have to apologize, I understand, I get cranky on my sick days too…” you smiled up at him taking your hand off his face to open the container. “Here, I made it for you, it’ll help you get warmer so you’ll feel better…” you held a spoon up to his mouth and he obediently eats the food you’ve prepared for him.

You stopped after he finished half of it as you didn’t want him to throw up later, you were packing it away when he saw your torn up clothing, He stood up carefully and rummaged through his drawers for a nightshirt he could lend you, the least thing he wants for you right now is to get cold aswell. “Malleus what are you looking for? Get back in bed, I’ll look for it” you stood beside him telling him to rest.

Just then he pulled out one of his nightshirts and gave it to you, “Wear it, you’ll get cold” he said and coughed right after. Your heart softened “Hey…I’m supposed to be the one caring for you…dont do my job” you jokingly scolded as you helped him back to bed. He looked up at you as you put a blanket over him as if begging you to change. Part of him really was concerned that you’d get cold but a part of him just wants to see you in his clothes, to have his scent engulfed in yours. You sighed “Okay…I’ll go change and I’ll be right back” you gave in, kissing his forehead

His nightshirt was way bigger than your size, given that this man is literally 202cm. You went out expecting Malleus to be asleep but instead he was sitting up and looking right your direction, his face shocked, lovestruck, and at the same time tired…. “Malleus…I told you to get some rest” you hands fell your hips as you walked towards him. He pulled you in with his tail, once again wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your hair and his tail coiling around your leg.

“I cant rest without you beside me…” he mumbled quietly, purring softly, taking in your warmth, you looked up at him smiling, you felt as if you were melting in his arms, you leveled your face with his, inching closer, he closed his eyes expecting a kiss on his lips, but was disappointed when you only kissed his nose…you laughed at his unsatisfied expression.

“My prince, I can’t kiss you there even if I wanted to, I have to take care of you, not get us both sick” you said, touching your forehead with his. He understands but he just really craves for your affection right now, grumbling once again, you were forced to lay him on your chest and shower him with kisses, (except for his lips). Now being satisfied he resumes his purring and cuddled closer to you.

“Wear my clothes more often…” he says, “hm? Why?” You asked, caressing his horns, “You’ll have my scent mixed with yours…that way they’ll know your my beloved…” he says before drifting on to sleep as you felt you get warmer, not even knowing that the reason why, is because of what he said. You didn’t disagree though, you loved wearing his clothes aswell, it makes you feel safe. Slowly your eyelids also grew heavier and the both of you slept in each other’s comfort.

———————————————————

A/N: Hi there, yes I’m back, I’m here, Ready to write again 🥹🤚🏻 please dont tear my soul in half I swear I’m back for real this time. ANYWAYS YKNOW THE DRILL DIDNT PROOF READ THIS ERRORS ARE BOUND TO SAY HI 💀

[soranihimawari]

Fates Aligned

Word Count: TBD

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x YN!Reader

Rating: AKF (Akaashi Keiji Fluff)

Notes: Josei manga refers to manga which appeals to young adult women. :]

Thinking back on your high school days could pose a problem for you. You're attending your reunion and are amongst friends who are filling you in on their lives: who got married to who, who's adding to their family, and who's dating who. You realize as they talk you become more and more disassociated in the conversation. It's not like you had any juicy gossip to offer--you weren't dating anyone with the prospect of marriage on the way and you definitely weren't expecting an addition to your family except for maybe adopting another kitten to go along with the two year old cat you have waiting for you at home.

As the night progressed, you enjoy a few more drinks and light snacks at your end of the table. That is until you see him. Him, the young man from your past Japanese literature class with stunning gun-blue metal eyes, soft charcoal hair, and quiet nature. His best friend was the loud and often cheery captain of the volleyball team. You remember him as a gentle soul, after all he was much taller than you then. Nowadays, as you over hear of his publishing successes, you are shy to say to you have read many of his publishing house's manga. Your collection is massive, yet no one here would think you were an avid fan.

Until one member of your side of the table brings up a highly popular josei manga title. Your ears perk up as you enter the conversation saying you are an avid fan and reader of the title. A few things to note: the title was published online independently, second, when the copyright was up for renewal, a new publishing company bought it to have the author continue the story, third said author was attending is high school reunion in the pub where you seemed to be gushing over their work.

Whatever you said caused Akashi Keiji to confidently stride up to you and hang out at your end of the table.

"I take it you like that work," he says. "You're, yln yn,m right? Shared a desk with you in Japanese literature."

He seems amused. You seem a bit flustered as you swirl your empty water cup in your hands. You were trying to be a little less drunk before calling it a night.

"You remember me?" you say with a slight scoff. "It's usually hard for people outside of my friend circle here to recognize me. Nice to see you too Akaashi-kun."

He laughs as he clinks glasses with you. As the night progresses, you two become more and more acquainted past the "what happened after university" and the "where/what do you do now" questions.

You were pleased to know he landed a publishing job much like he was impressed your hobby of photography landed you a few lead exposes for National Geographic. Regardless of the years spent apart from that one classroom in Fukurodani, Akaashi lets you in on a little secret.

"You know," he begins. There is a small curl of his lips. "Sitting next to you inspired me to start drawing a little."

"Really? Now that you're a publisher, I didn't think you'd have to be the artist behind the manga," you reply.

"True, but my first manga heroine? She was inspired by you," he said this casually as he pulls out his phone to show you a very rough sketch of a short, limited series run of a manga you read online.

"N-no way," you gasp. You start to see little coincidences of you in the character when you re-read the first few pages and you glance back at Akaashi.

"I was too shy and reserved back then to ask, but," he starts when you hand him his phone back. "Would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a deadline to meet next Thursday, but Friday I am free."

And without missing a beat, you reply.

"Sure, I can be free next Friday. Anything for the author of 'fates aligned': a red string of fate short series," you smile brightly as he chuckles.

[aylacavebear]

Dimensional Shift - Chapter 5 S4E2 (pt. 1)

Story Summary: Maria was just a regular girl, worked at a gas station, wrote fanfic, and loved Supernatural. She even created her own supernatural creature for her writings. When the aurora borealis comes to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, one Halloween night, everything changes for her in ways she never expected. Will she be able to navigate this new world she's thrown into?

Word Count: 3851

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff/Comfort, Alcoholism.

A/N: I broke S4E2 into a few chapters, so they weren't such a long read all at once with what was added to them.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5 - S4E2 pt. 1

There was some arguing in the car, which continued even after getting back to Bobby’s. Bobby sat behind his desk, several books open before him while Dean and Sam were still arguing. Maria sat down on the couch, as she was the one who had gotten the particular books that Bobby was looking through at the moment. 

“I still don’t believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!” Dean yelled, which made Maria flinch slightly.

“He’s not the only one who said that, Dean,” Sam retorted, annoyed as he looked over at Maria, remembering what she’d told them in the motel the day before.

“You two Chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?” Bobby called out as they walked over to look at what he had, “I got stacks of lore, Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it’s in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit.” 

“What else?” Dean asked.

“What else, what?” Bobby said, shrugging.

“What else could do it?” Dean asked.

“Airlift your ass out of that hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing,” Bobby said.

That was when the three of them looked at Maria, who was still sitting on the couch, drinking whiskey. She had warned them about Castiel and even changed the blinding of Pamela, the psychic. Even in Maria’s fanfics, her character always looked guilty when she knew something, which was exactly the look she had now.

“Maria, what do you know?” Dean asked, but it came out gruff, annoyed, and he was already on his third or fourth beer, but that was nothing for Dean.

“I’m not sure how much I should say,” she almost whispered.

Knowing the future, so to speak, was a blessing and a curse, and sharing too much, or too many details, could pose all new problems for all of them, and Maria knew this, but she also couldn’t lie either, not to the three of them. In her fanfic, they were her family, and even now, in their dimension, she was their family.

“You aren’t supposed to find out yet. I don’t… I don’t want to change things too much.” Maria replied, unable to look up at the three of them.

She knew that in three days, they’d go investigate why a friend of Bobby’s hadn’t returned his calls and that ghosts of their past had killed four other hunters due to the Mark of the Witness. It was called ‘the rising of the witnesses,’ an ancient prophecy from Revelations and the apocalypse. Her mind raced, attempting to figure out what she could say without giving too much away.

“It doesn’t matter. What the hell do you know?” Dean growled at that point, walking closer to her, his tone making her flinch again.

“Dean, please understand…” she began, glancing up at him, seeing the anger in his eyes and looked away, “Let me go get a book. It will tell you what you want to know, and in about two days, you’ll see what I mean.” she decided to say, avoiding changing more than she had to.

The three watched her as she walked out of the living room and down to Bobby’s panic room. She retrieved a particular book and rejoined them in the living room, setting the book on the desk in front of Bobby. The boys didn’t know about Bobby’s panic room. Maria knew more from the show than anything, but her character in her fanfic had known as well since he was like a father to her. 

“Look up the Rising of the Witnesses. I’m not saying anymore other than maybe you should warn Olivia Lowry, Carl Bate, R.C. Adams, and the other hunters in that area.” She told them before sitting back down on the couch, going back to drinking the whiskey, which Bobby always kept a steady supply of due to her tolerance from her healing ability.

Dean wasn’t happy that she wouldn’t give him a straight answer. Bobby and Sam were a little more understanding. Bobby opened the book to the section she had mentioned. She didn’t need to look at his expression to know what it looked like. His eyes widened as he read, then shared it with the boys. At this point, Maria had finished off that first bottle and started on her second.

“Time to make some phone calls,” Bobby stated, “as well as get this spell ready ahead of time.”

Dean just looked over at Maria, who hadn’t said anything since setting the book down in front of Bobby. He didn’t want to believe her when she’d told them about the angel, but it had turned out to be true, and now there was this, and none of it was good. He wanted to know more, to prepare for it, but he also knew how stubborn Maria could be, so for now, he didn’t press it, no matter how much he wanted to.

The room felt stuffy for Maria and she could feel Dean’s eyes on her, at least until Bobby snapped him out of his thoughts. Bobby sent Dean and Sam on the errand to retrieve the items for the spell while Bobby made phone calls. Maria headed outside with her bottle of whiskey.

She leaned her back against the passenger side door of her truck, her back to Bobby’s place, drinking, lost in her thoughts of the horrors that were ahead of them, wondering if there was any way she could lessen the pain that they were going to go through. She remembered how her heart had gone out to the brothers when she watched the show back in her world, wanting to take away their pain, comfort them, and tell them they would get through this. She felt a few tears slide down her cheek and quickly wiped them away as she heard footsteps approaching her, knowing it was Sam just with how he walked.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked her tenderly as he moved to stand in front of her.

“I will be Sam. This is just… hard, that’s all,” she replied as she looked up at him.

“Knowing things and not wanting to mess stuff up, huh?” he asked, understanding, mostly.

“Yeah,” she answered, fighting back tears, knowing what was coming, knowing he’d be trapped in that damned cage with Lucifer toying with his mind for a year but unable to say a word about it.

“I’m gonna guess it’s not pretty then, what’s in store.” there was some curiosity in his tone as well as worry, but he was also trying not to push her to say more than she was comfortable, unlike Dean, who would have been attempting to grill her for information.

“No, Sam… it’s not pretty… and it’s gonna be hard, on all of us. Probably you more than us,” she told him as she looked down at the ground, finishing off that second bottle, barely feeling anything.

Maria didn’t see the concern on Sam’s face. She didn’t want to, realizing she had probably said too much.

“You’re not going to die, so don’t think that. It’s just gonna be hard, that’s all,” she clarified, then looked at the empty bottle in her hand, scrunching her face a little, wanting another one.

“Well… umm… that’s good, at least,” Sam replied, not sounding very convinced, “Could you perhaps be a little less… vague?”

Maria sighed as she looked up at him, the look on his face almost breaking her heart, “I can’t, Sam. Not yet. I’ll tell everyone more in time, when it’s appropriate.” again, she fought back her tears, which Sam did notice. 

The “her” of this world only drank like this when her emotions got the better of her, like anger and pain, which Sam knew. It was clear she wasn’t angry. Sam moved closer and hugged her. As far as he was concerned, she was still his little sister, even if she was a little different than the Maria from this world.

“Let’s go get you another bottle,” Sam told her with a soft smile after the hug, putting his arm over her shoulder and walking her back into Bobby’s.

She could hear Dean talking to Bobby even before they went inside. It was clear that Dean wanted to push her for more information, and Bobby was about to yell at Dean about it, but Sam opened the door, making them both stop talking. Sam took her empty bottle, threw it away, then grabbed another one popping it open for her before handing it to her.

“Thanks, Sam,” she told him quietly before taking the bottle, taking another drink, then looking at the floor, choosing to sit down at the kitchen table with her back to the living room, just drinking, attempting to drown the pain she felt.

“She okay?” Bobby asked, somewhat concerned.

“She will be Bobby. This is really hard on her. She wants to tell us, but she’s afraid that if she says too much too quickly, it will change too much and could really mess stuff up, possibly making it worse for all of us,” Sam explained.

“Makes sense…” Bobby replied, glancing up at Dean, who was standing near the corner of his desk, arms crossed, his eyes on Maria as she sat in the kitchen, “Don’t go pushing her, Dean,” he warned him fairly sternly. 

Maria could feel Dean’s eyes on her, which only made her guilt worse, making her take larger drinks of the whiskey. The whiskey at least helped keep her tears away, though, so she was thankful for it. She had completely left out knowing that Sam was on demon blood. It was a topic she wasn’t ready to broach either. Maria honestly wanted to feel comfortable around them, like the character she’d written in her fanfic back in her world, but her nerves felt shot.

“I won’t, Bobby…” Dean finally said, his tone gruff and annoyed, before he clenched his jaw, watching her as she drank.

Bobby had called the hunters that Maria had spoken of earlier, and the boys had helped him prepare the spell needed to send the ghosts that would rise back to where they belonged. The other hunters agreed to call Bobby the moment they noticed anything but didn’t question how he knew something was coming. 

The hours passed slowly for Maria. She had finished that third bottle, which felt like several hours ago when, in truth, it had only been about forty-five minutes. She didn’t know how to face any of them. In her fanfic, the three of them learned sign language not long after they had met her so they could talk among themselves when they knew she was within her hearing range. She sighed as she sat at the table in the kitchen, hearing only silence from the living room, knowing that they were talking about her.

Dean: We need to know.

Sam: She’ll tell us in time, when we need to know, just like with the angel.

Dean: It’s not enough. I need to know why.

Bobby: Knock it off, both of you. She’s family and won’t let any of us get hurt if she can help it.

Dean: That’s not the point. She knows way more than she’s saying. She only drinks like that when she is pissed or sad. She ain’t pissed.

Bobby: I swear, boy, you push it, and we’re gonna have a problem.

Dean: I already said I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what the hell we’re up against.

Sam: She’s telling us what’s important when it’s needed. Trust her already. She’s still our Maria.

Dean sighed and looked back over at her, noticing how she had laid her head on her arms, which were on the table now, her gaze out the window near the table. He cared for her, she was family, almost as much as Sam. She looked and even acted like “their” Maria. The only difference had been that she knew how things were going to play out, and it almost seemed as though she couldn’t hide her emotions as well as “their” Maria used to.

Bobby: Think about it, Dean, from her perspective. She’s from a world where we’re just a television show to her. She’s probably having a harder time than any of us right now.

Dean sighed again, knowing he was right. He took another drink of his whiskey. The poor girl was probably fairly emotional. He thought about if he ended up in some television show and how he’d end up feeling, although it’d be different for him as he’d probably try to have fun with the girls in the show, that thought making him smirk a bit. Dean kicked off a bit from Bobby’s desk and headed into the kitchen, setting his glass of whiskey down on the table before moving a chair so he was closer to Maria, setting a hand on her shoulder when he sat down.

“Hey, I’m not mad at you,” he told her softly.

“I know, Dean,” she replied quietly, “this just sucks, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re family, no matter where you’re from. We all trust you, and that isn’t gonna change,” he tried to reassure her, wishing she’d turn her head so he could attempt to read her better.

“Thanks, Dean, that means a lot to me,” she told him before turning her head on her arms, looking up at him, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes.

Dean instantly moved even closer to her, hugging her with his arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer so that her closest shoulder was against his chest, “Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m not,” she replied, then looked away from him, trying to hide her blush for him being so close. Her character in her fanfic was used to his scent. She, however, was not, and it was fairly intoxicating. It didn’t help that she really did love him, and now he was right next to her, holding her in a half hug.

“Not what it looked like to me,” he said softly, “You can talk to me, you know that.” he paused for a moment, “Why not tell me about your world, help take your mind off things.” he finally said, still holding her as he had been.

Maria’s mind raced again, although now she wasn’t sure what she should reveal and what she shouldn’t, like her love for him, thinking it was stupid to fall in love with a fictional character, even if he wasn’t so fictional anymore. She took a deep breath, thinking about how her character might act in this situation. Her character had more courage than she thought she ever could. Maria felt as though she wasn’t confident, didn’t have the courage she wanted, was too shy around guys, and was more of a mouse than anything.

She took a deep breath, unable to ignore his scent, but turned to look at him anyway, still laying her head on her arms on the table, “It’s pretty boring where I come from. There aren’t things there like there are here. No monsters or hunters, no angels or demons.”

Dean noticed the slight blush on her cheeks, which made him get that soft smirk, “Sounds kind of boring, you’re right, but doesn’t that mean you get a quiet life.” his tone was soft, almost curious.

She chuckled a little, even managing to smile slightly, “I went to work, came home, wrote fanfic, usually drank, slept, then did it all over again. I usually watched my favorite show while I wrote, inspiring me.” 

Dean sat there, his arm still around her, sipping his drink with his other hand, listening, “Might be kind of nice, having a boring life like that.” 

“You’d hate it, Dean. I know how much you love hunting,” Maria chuckled, then snagged a drink out of his glass of whiskey.

“Hey now, you’ve already had three bottles,” he laughed, holding onto his drink this time, “I’d give that life a shot at least,” he added, thinking about a life without having to hunt down monsters, but knew at the same time that she was probably right about him hating it.

Maria laughed a bit when he said what he did about how much she had already drunk, and she was slightly buzzed, finally, “Let’s just say that you did try it, at one point, here. You did like it, but…” she trailed off, watching his expression change and had to look away again, “you were only partially happy, always looking over your shoulder, wondering when that life would catch up with you, which put a couple of people danger. You end up heartbroken, Dean. I just… don’t want to see you go through that.” her tone had gotten quiet the more she spoke. She had been vague, or as vague as she could.

Dean almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, knowing there would be only one reason he’d ever try that kind of life. He pulled away from Maria, then glanced into the living room at Sam and Bobby, more Sam than anything, wondering what Maria knew that he didn’t.

“Dean, Sam doesn’t die, so don’t think that, okay,” she told him quietly. She had already reassured Sam earlier that neither of them died, not really anyway. She knew what was in store for the two of them over the next twenty or so years and everything that was laid out for them by God, whom they hadn’t met yet.

He looked back over at her, somewhat surprised, wanting answers, but chose not to push things, remembering what Sam and Bobby had said earlier, “I trust you, so I’ll believe you, but I know the only reason I’d even attempt that kind of life.” he said, attempting to keep the annoyance out of his tone, even though his jaw clenched again before he finished off his drink.

“I’ll explain things as they come up, the best I can, so we can all be prepared, I promise,” she replied, finally looking over at him, and the sadness had returned, as well as those tears she had been fighting.

That look in her eyes hurt him, which made his expression soften again, “I’m not mad at you, just the situation, okay,” he said, trying to reassure her, again, “So, where were you working?”

She wanted to believe him, but still somewhat felt like he was mad at her for not telling him everything she knew, “I worked at a convenience store as a cashier.”

“What kind of fanfic did you write?” he asked, only slightly curious but also trying to take her mind off things.

That’s when she blushed again. It was light, though, and the kitchen light danced across her deep, dark blue eyes for a moment, “Lots of different kinds of things, really. Movies, video game characters, and TV shows,” she bit her bottom lip for a moment, nervous, “in the last year though, it’s just been about Supernatural.” she felt her heart pounding but tried to calm it. The alcohol had given her a little more courage than she normally would have had.

Dean raised an eyebrow when she mentioned Supernatural, “You wrote about us, for a year?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

Maria looked down at the table, managing not to blush further than she already was, “Yeah…” was all she could manage. She wasn’t about to tell him that in that year, she had binge-watched the show nearly five times between work and writing fanfic.

“What was your favorite part?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as her blush intrigued him. His Maria never would have blushed like that, not over something so small. Hell, his Maria hardly blushed at all.

Maria took a deep breath, “The dynamic between you and Sam, and things I can’t tell you yet. Just the way you guys always came out on top of things, no matter what was thrown at you. Plus, no matter what problems happened between you and Sam, you two always found a way to work it out.” there was a slight dreaminess to her words and expression, as well as a softness in her eyes, even if Dean couldn’t completely see them with how she was facing. She wasn’t about to tell him that she had rewritten the complete 15 seasons, including her character in it, and in her world, it was online for others to enjoy reading, which they did.

Bobby and Sam were listening from the living room, having their own silent conversation through sign language. Dean had even noticed when he had glanced in there earlier. The two of them were fairly proud of Dean for at least trying to talk with Maria and not pushing for immediate answers.

“Sounds like you got pretty attached,” Dean was almost teasing her like he would have his Maria, as there was now a smirk to match his tone.

Maria turned towards him and was unable to keep that smile off her face, seeing that smirk of his up close, “I like the real thing better,” she told him matter-of-factly, which made him chuckle a bit.

“So this monster stuff, it doesn’t scare you at all?” he asked, amused with her now.

“No, but I know I’m weird too,” she answered.

“Weird isn’t a bad thing here,” he replied and was a bit surprised to be more interested in her than he had been his own Maria, whom he had treated more like a little sister than anything.

Maria and Dean eventually joined Bobby and Sam in the living room. There were moments when things got awkwardly quiet, but one of them managed to find a different topic for conversation. They spent a few hours getting to know this “new” Maria before she excused herself for the night, knowing where her room was since this world was almost out of her fanfic. She’d already changed things and knew she’d have to be careful with things in the future. The three of them stayed up a bit later, having their silent conversation. There was the occasional chuckle, sigh, groan, and even some laughter that would happen, but no words.

Her dreams were what they always were, but now they seemed to include other things, things from “her” past in the fanfic. These were almost like memories instead of dreams, and they felt real. Her father, William Winter, a legend among hunters and the Men of Letters who had erased all records of her existence once she had received the Touch of Bastet, making her a supernatural creature, no matter how human she looked. A memory of when he had returned from a hunt when she was five, opening the motel room door and scooping her up into his arms. She could even smell his scent, which made her smile in her sleep.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - S4E2 pt. 2

Dimensional Shift Master List

Main Master List

Tag List: @nancymcl

[chibigaia-art]

how did you learn to draw? Would you recommend any classes or certain resources? do you have any tips, general or hyperspecific or anywhere in between, other than "just practice"?

sorry to bombard you with questions. I'm just a frustrated amateur artist trying desperately to improve, so I'm asking around some of the artists i particularly like.

I learned to draw by bashing my head on my desk for several hours, which means practice (sorry,) and also by staring intently at artists I like, trying to 'steal' how they draw some things

I never followed a class online, so I wouldn't be able to give out recommendations for those, and I haven't actually looked up an art tutorial online in years so I can't remember anything, but here's a few resources/general tips under the cut

RESOURCES

haven't used this myself, but my teachers during the first year at comic school mentioned proko as a good YT channel for beginners

quickposes - useful for gesture drawing, I acc use this one when I feel like I need to draw but dont have any ideas

I know some people use designdoll for poses as well, I never used it myself because I tend to use the csp models for that, but if you don't have csp, I think it's a good alternative

coolors - for color palettes

adorkastock - more poses! I don't check it anymore at this point but it was my first actual 'art landmark' when I was a kid and I needed to find some poses, I could always rely on their photoshoots

I'm not linking any tutorials because, as I said, I haven't looked up any online in 10+ years, but I used to watch a lot of speedpaints as a teen, and it should be fairly easy to find decent tutorials on YT at this point;

GENERAL TIPS

if you have a sketchbook, please don't let the internet make you believe every single page has to be a masterpiece, that attitude is gonna break you

not everything will be a hit piece and thats ok

when shading, avoid pure black

experiment with styles!

when inking, you shouldn't move just your wrist but use your elbow as well! also rotate your canvas, both when doing traditional art and digital

true to traditional and digital art as well - flip the canvas to see the art mirrored and find mistakes (for traditional you can hold up the paper to a source of light and look at it from the back)

use references whenever possible

what works for another artist might not work for you ( re my ink tip: I follow that, but I know a couple mutuals don't do that and their art still slaps and looks clean and crisp)

when drawing a full illustration with a background, work on the background perspective first and THEN add the character,, this should be basic knowledge but my idiot ass actually processed this info only a few years ago

learn how to use perspective grids asap, dont be like me

IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LINE YOU DON'T HAVE TO!!! be free

rule of thirds is always useful to keep in mind

I'm not super good at giving advice because tbh I don't think I'm good enough to give it, but I hope at least one of these things will help you out!

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier divorce attorney AU of my dreams (hear me out):

-Geralt doesn't have regulars. Of course, he doesn't have regulars, he's a divorce attorney, a good one at that; sure sometimes there are clients that hire him twice because of mistakes or short-lived marriages, or he will have the odd person whose ex-partner he once helped, but in his ten-year-career, he's never once had a person come to him more than twice

-He has never married. The few long-term relationships he had didn't amount to anything in that regard and perhaps his job has spoiled the whole affair for him; there's never been a need either, he has his daughter Ciri, has his horse Roach which he rides on weekends, he couldn't be more content (or so he thinks)

(-Jaskier knows that many people would and do call him a whore, an adulterer, but he isn't. He is a romantic, a fall-in-lover, a dreamer, a free spirit. Which is why he gave himself the name 'Jaskier' (much more befitting of his character than Julian, what a common name) and why he tends to end up at the altar... more often than is strictly normative)

-The first time Jaskier enters Geralt's office, he acts as though it's the beginning of a Broadway show. He walks in, stands in the middle of the room and opens his arms wide. "Good day," he twitters and flashes Geralt the brightest grin. Geralt raises his eyebrows, but he isn't about to turn away a guy who looks affluent enough he can charge him a little extra. "Hello?" - "Julian Alfred Pankratz, call me Jaskier." Jaskier settles into the chair opposite Geralt's desk and puts his leather-clad feet up on them. Geralt pushes them off and asks: "Mr. Pankratz, what can I do for you?" - "Ah yes. My lover and muse, the Countess de Stael, has left me for another. The problem is that we got married just last month and I'm afraid she is going to bleed me dry if I don't have a proper attorney. You've been recommended to me by a friend. What do you say? Help out a fool?" What? Countess? Well. "Fine," Geralt says. "Let's talk fees."

-Jaskier is a lot and when the divorce is through and all aspects of their working relationship are settled, Geralt calls his babysitter - Yen's always happy to jump in on short notice - and invites his colleagues Lambert and Eskel to get drunk. Jaskier was annoying and exhausting, constantly babbling and flirting with Geralt and, god, he never wants to see him again.

-Of course, Geralt sees him again. By the time he does - half a year after the first time - Geralt has almost forgotten about Jaskier and his stupid Countess and how utterly drained that job left him. Jaskier sounds cheerful on the phone, not at all the common cadence for Geralt's clients, and comes into the office with two Macchiatos and a box of donuts; disgruntled, but unable to say no to sugar, Geralt allows for them to have the coffee over their conversation about Jaskier's upcoming divorce and it makes it more bearable. "So," Geralt says. "Give me a rough outline of the situation." Just to be prepared. Jaskier grins, wipes a sprinkle off his lips and takes a sip of coffee. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but hear me out. So about two months after you helped me last time, the Countess de Stael gave me a call..." Geralt wants to smack the man when he is done his well-embellished tale. Jaskier is obviously being used. But he's not here to judge, he's here to do his job and Jaskier pays well.

-The third is a woman called Molly. Geralt never gets to meet her, Jaskier never talks about her, it is as though she doesn't exist as more than a job to get done, a contract to fulfill. Aside from the topic of his soon to be ex-wife, Jaskier is more talkative than usual. He asks questions about Geralt's personal life, talks about his job - of course he's a broadway performer, 'star' doesn't quite apply - lingers. Geralt finds he... doesn't mind this time. It's nice to socialize for a bit, even if it is within the general bounds of his job. Jaskier makes him laugh somehow.

-"You should give me a discount," Jaskier jokes when he's there to leave a paycheck for Geralt for the fourth time (that Countess again, Geralt doesn't understand how they got married three times in a span of two years (in addition to that Molly woman)). "I don't give out discounts," Geralt replies. - "Why not? I'm a loyal customer, you should have a system for this." - "Mr. Pankratz, do you realize that you are the only person I know who goes through this many marriages in such a short amount of time?" - "Always knew I was special," Jaskier laughs and leaves with a small wave.

-"Okay, Geralt, what the hell?" Lambert asks, strutting in after Jaskier's gone with a bad temper written across his face. "Who is this man? And why does he keep coming back? You know I can hear his voice from my office. So if, like, you're having some sort of strange workplace affair, cut it the fuck out." -  "He's just an idiot who keeps getting married," Geralt says and waves Lambert away. He doesn't add that he kind of starts to miss the idiot.

-Priscilla is very nearly a different story, something Geralt only finds out after the fact. Jaskier breaks down before their court appointment, sobbing into Geralt's shoulder that he can't do it, he can't let her go, why doesn't she want him; by that point Geralt has known Jaskier for almost four years and the thought of him staying in a marriage for longer than half of one makes him queasy, gives him little bursts of pain against his breastbone; in truth, he's glad Priscilla's leaving Jaskier, antsy that it took almost a year for them to split up; she approaches him after the divorce is through, while Jaskier's in the courthouse bathroom crying his eyes out. "Tell him I'm sorry," Priscilla says and Geralt scowls at her. "Tell him I wouldn't have left him if I didn't have to. Tell him to wait for me." She leaves and Geralt doesn't even know why he should be the one to relay that message to Jaskier and so he doesn't. Jaskier never mentions her again.

-The sixth time is the Countess de Stael again and Geralt already prepared his case from the e-mail Jaskier sent ahead. The last three times all went in favour of the noblewoman who was able to protect her fortune, but Geralt thinks he can make a case for emotional manipulation and get Jaskier at least a sizable indemnity. "Mr. Pankratz," Geralt says when Jaskier comes for their appointment.  "Are you ever going to call me Jaskier?" Jaskier replies with a sigh and drops into the chair. His hair is tousled, there are deep half-moons under his eyes which look like he spent the whole night crying. Geralt's heart feels bruised, but he can't get involved dammit. "That would be inappropriate," he grunts. They get to work and Jaskier walks out with a broken-heart and a swollen bank account.

-"When will you give up on that woman?" Geralt asks when Jaskier saunters into his office one Friday, not three months after the last divorce. It's late afternoon and Geralt's ready for a weekend of watching Disney movies with Ciri, but Jaskier's always a sight for sore eyes these days. Not for the first time does Geralt consider asking him out for coffee, but the fact that he's only ever seeing Geralt because he's in need of a(nother) divorce somehow poses a barrier. "Now that is not very professional of you. To answer your question: right now. That's why I'm here." And for the first time with these two, it's Jaskier that wants the divorce, Jaskier that takes the initiative. He's only ever been the one to get dumped. Geralt's up all night thinking about that.

-For an entire year, Jaskier does not return and that annoys Geralt. He finds himself fretting, distracted, hoping Jaskier will turn up with another marriage to be dealt with, but he doesn't. The thought that Jaskier might have found someone he wants to stay with makes him physically ill. His code of conduct forbids him from using Jaskier's contact info though. Maybe this is for the best and anyway, Geralt is down to earth while Jaskier is... well, Jaskier. An emotional roller-coaster. He has his daughter and his horse and all is well. Only it isn't because Geralt managed to fall in love with Jaskier. (When Lambert and Eskel find out they laugh at him for two hours straight)

-Jaskier does turn up eventually, but not to get divorced again. He waits outside the building where Geralt works with two cups of coffee in hand and a tired smile. Geralt lets himself be led to a nearby bench, lets Jaskier speak. "I considered proposing to random strangers just to have another botched marriage for you to get me out of," Jaskier says. "But that would have been rather inconsiderate and there are easier ways to see you." - "I thought you might have found one that sticks," Geralt replies, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. "I might have."  Jaskier winks at Geralt and Geralt decides to throw caution to the wind. He leans over and kisses Jaskier's lips, then mutters, "I don't ever want to see you in my office again." - "And here I thought that your desk would make such a great hmph..." Geralt shuts him up with another kiss. It feels right.  

[reidandweep]

Stitching

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Much like Adam Driver, I have been a huge fan of Matthew Gray Gubler and criminal minds for years. With quarantine, I decided to re-watch the show from the beginning and I had some inspiration. My writing tends to take a while but if you have any requests or idea for Spencer Reid, please send them my way.

Word Count- 6286 words

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and torture, fluff, tears, and the usual criminal minds details.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? -William Shakespeare.

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

“Good morning my lover and friends. As of 8:45 am, yesterday morning, four bodies have been found across the Washington State area. Locations confirmed to be Pomeroy, Baker City, Salem, and Mill Creek. All victims were very similar in physical appearance; Caucasian, red hair, brown eyes, approximately 5ft 4’.”

Garcia swiped her tablet to display family photographs of the victims on the screen. The team watched, in the debriefing room, as they scanned through their own tablets; reading through the details. Spencer’s eyes flittered over the images as his fingers scanned across the words in his paper file; still adamant on not working with technology like the rest of his team.

“What about the cause of death? How were they found?”

Garcia shivered at Rossi’s question.

“It’s not a pretty image. Each victim was dismembered at the elbows, knees, neck, and stomach. Further cuts were made vertically down the stomach and across the face, arms, and legs. Not deep enough to cut through bone, but deep enough to bleed out. Where the unsub cut our victims, he then sewed them back together.”

Emily looked up at Garcia.

“Are you saying the lacerations were made before the victim’s died?”

“Precisely. Each autopsy report came back the same with the cause of death pointing to the direction of blood loss; specifically, from the throat.”

The team looked at the new images before them. Multiple pictures appeared on the screen, showing the bodies of the victims. The pictures showing the women laid out in the same pose, thick thread holding together the pieces of their corpses. All had their eyes closed, except one.

“Garcia, the last victim, zoom into her face.”

Garcia did as Spencer asked.

“Her eyes are closed.”

Spencer nodded, glancing towards JJ as she spoke.

“Meaning that he felt remorse for this murder.”

Derek scrolled through the pictures on his tablet.

“The other three victim’s eyes are open, indicating that he wanted them to look. To watch what he was doing, whatever it may have been.”

Spencer looked across the table at the questioning faces.

“So, what changed between the third and the fourth victim?”

Hotch stood from his seat, indicating the others to grab their belonging.

“We can discuss further on jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

WASHINGTON STATE

Being greeted by the local police department in Clagstone, Spencer and the team began their investigation into the murders. Spencer did not know what it was, but the stitching on the bodies felt familiar. Like he had seen them before.

Looking up from his files, Spencer watched as Derek walked into the room, ending a call with who he could only presume to be Garcia.

“Garcia has just completed background checks on our latest victim. Lily Trent visited local film screenings at the Southview Centre religiously, to watch horror movies in particular. Seems like the girl loved anything horror and Halloween; according to her roommate and her computer history. It seems that are other victims did also.”

Spencer stood from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard at the back of the room. Writing down the details Derek stated, his brain began to filter through the relevant information needed.

“Halloween is ranked the ninth most celebrated holiday in the world. With different interpretations of the holiday occurring according to country and culture. Wearing costumes at Halloween did not even become an occurrence until 1585, with the first instance recorded in Scotland.”

Derek chuckled at Reid’s excitement. He knew the boy loved Halloween.

“Well it all looks like they were pretty huge fans of the holiday and horror films. Maybe our unsub was too.”

Spencer looked down at the photos in his hand, scanning his memory for any correlation.

“Maybe, it’s not just horror, but a particular film. If all the victims were presented in a certain way, maybe the unsub is trying to replicate what happened to a character in a particular film.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll call Garcia to search through all the victims search history to see if any particular horror films come up in each one. Do you know of any films that the unsub could have replicated?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can collate his actions to hundreds of films but, the method of torture and look of the victims, I can’t think of one horror feature that pinpoints all that the unsub has done.”

A thought unexpectedly popped into Spencer’s mind. Derek cocked his head at the sudden halt from the resident genius.

“But I know someone who might.”

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON

“The importance of genre in film alters many of the other aspects. The characters and their narrative arcs, the music score, cinematography, the edit, and so much more. Sometimes genre even dictates the director who signs onto the project. Dennis Dugan would not have a directing career if Adam Sandler stopped making comedy movies. Because that is what he directs. He doesn’t direct comedies; he directs Adam Sandler comedies. Which, in my opinion, are a whole genre on their own.”

The class chuckled.

“Genre plays a part in everyday life. Sometimes, your day will be led by romance, or grief, or action. There may be drama, or comedy, or even silence.”

The class looked on in concentration as Y/N walked across the floor. If someone who did not attend the college walked past the classroom, they could’ve presumed that she was a student. She looked young enough.

“It controls the way the characters talk, act, and move. How the plot thickens and pushes forward and…”

The doors at the back of the auditorium opened. Y/N looked up at the sound of the intrusion to see figures that she could not recognise, and one that she did.

Clearing her throat, she continued.

“And how it even ends. We shall leave it at that today. What I want you to do in the meantime is research a genre in particular and come up with examples that counteract the stereotypes that have been enforced upon the genre itself. Hand it in to your professor first thing Monday morning. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the students collected their things and filtered out of the room. The figures waiting till she was only left before they walked down the steps.

Coming to a stop in front of her desk, Y/N crossed her arms and waited. Spencer stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Long time no see stranger.”

Spencer’s cheeks burned at Y/N’s words. The team shared looks between them at the unfamiliar display. They had seen Spencer blush at people before, but not for a long time.

Spencer cleared his throat, preparing himself to act professional.

“This is Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N travels across the country to guest speak at different universities on her topic at hand. She specialises in film studies, more importantly the focus of characters and genres. If I can’t connect the unsub’s actions to a film, Y/N most definitely can.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s praise.

“Nice to meet you all. So, what are you here to talk to me about Doc? Obviously, you’re here on a case and if you are asking for my help, I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty gruesome.”

Spencer blushed at the nickname; caught off guard by the word slipping of her tongue.

Sending a raised look towards Reid, Hotch began to explain why they were there.

“Were looking into a case of connected murders. All victims were found to have been mutilated and tortured in the same way. As well as showing resemblances in their physical appearances. With research, we’ve found that each victim was particularly fond of horror films and Halloween. We would just like for you to take a look and see if you could recognise if the ways in which they were harmed stemmed from a film in particular.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“Of course, anything to help.”

She reached for the files from Spencer’s hands, ignoring the tablet pushed in her direction by JJ.

“Sorry, I prefer to use paper. I only really use technology for my lectures or to watch films if they cannot be purchased in physical form.”

Derek smirked, shooting looks to his team, as his eyes landed on Spencer. He never thought he would meet a technophobe like Reid.

Y/N scanned through the pictures and documents, looking in detail at the lacerations at hand. She identified the similarities between the victims, as her mind swirled through the images and characters from the films, she knew held similarities.

“What were the names of all the victims?”

Emily looked towards the woman.

“That information is classified.”

Y/N did not blink at her abrasiveness.

“Were any of them called Sally?”

The team looked perplexed at her question.

“No. Why that name in particular?”

Y/N continued to scan the pages as Rossi questioned her.

“Because the unsub isn’t replicating anything from a horror movie. The unsub is replicating the physical appearance and staging of a character from an animated movie. A Disney one to be more specific.”

A light bulb flickered in Spencer’s mind as he stared at Y/N in realisation. The hair colours. The stitches. It made sense now.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

LOCAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

“The Nightmare Before Christmas is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical Halloween-Christmas fantasy film directed by Henry Selick and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. It became a cult classic during the early 2000s with orchestral concerts occurring every year to celebrate the spectacle of the film.”

Spencer indicated for JJ to change the monitor as he and Y/N stood in front of the team to explain the information.

“Originally, the story began as a poem written by Tim Burton. Both narratives follow the protagonist, Jack Skellington, into his journey to Christmastown, and how he tries to make Christmas his own. The character in question that your unsub is replicating is the love interest of our protagonist. Created by Dr Finkelstein, Sally is a ragdoll-esque character whose body is covered with stitches to keep her together. The form in which all the women were found is identical to this scene in the movie.”

The screen changes to show the scene in question; paused at the precise moment to prover her point.

“All red haired, all Caucasian, all eerily the same. The stitches are exactly the same and the pose in which they are in the pictures are also.”

“We now know which film our unsub is mimicking, but how can we produce a distinguished profile of our unsub? All we can say is that between his third and fourth victim, he suddenly began to feel remorseful of his crimes.”

Y/N looked towards Spencer, waiting for him to speak as he knew more details about the case.

“Garcia checked into the victim’s computer histories and found that all four victims attended a horror convention in the Washington state area over the course of the past month. The convention in particular runs every other weekend, focusing on different horror films to highlight. However, they always make an exception for one film; The Nightmare Before Christmas. Whilst reviewing receipts for the tickets, they were all brought through the convention’s website, which is run by its board of organisation every year. Up until recently, the board has held the same members.”

Derek tapped on his tablet to the convention’s website.

“Last month, the website released details stating that a distinguish member was no longer part of the board due to unforeseen circumstances.”

It suddenly dawned on Y/N who Derek was talking about.

“Dean Faulkner.”

Spencer whipped around towards Y/N.

All eyes laid on her as her breath increased.

“You know him?”

Y/N nodded at Hotch.

“I guest spoke at a panel with him a few years back at a separate university. We were both there, amongst others, to talk about the works of a genre that are expertise were in. I was there to basically provide loose ends for what they could not answer. Dean’s specialised area was horror. The whole time he spoke about what he described as the true villains of horror and of the world.”

Y/N gulped, her mouth going dry.

“Women.”

The wheels began to turn in the team’s heads.

Spencer stepped closer towards Y/N in assurance, seeing that her thoughts were becoming overwhelmed. He quickly stepped back after he realised what he had done.

“He went on a raging tangent about the damsel in distress and the final girl. Going on and on and on about how women are weak and would never be the last one standing if faced against the monsters in real life. How they manipulated the men and made the monsters seem worse than they truly were. The only time he spoke positively about women was when we finally calmed him down and, during a Q&A session, a student asked him who the perfect horror movie character was. He said Sally because she was forgiving and would do anything for Jack; even if that meant falling apart and being sewn back together. I tried to justify that the film does not necessarily fall into the genre of horror. But he rebutted saying that it most definitely did, because of the fact that Jack’s dream did not come true.”

The room was silent for a second, taking in the information.

Suddenly, Y/N grasped the pen from Spencer’s hands. Her finger scribbling across the whiteboard.

“I need to know the names of the victims. Get Penelope on the phone and tell me the names.”

The team shocked at her erratic movements, sat in silence.

“Do you want to capture this guy?”

Spencer licked his lips and repeated the victim’s names.

“Susanna Cole, Alice Dawes, Liberty May, and Lily Trent.”

Y/N swiftly wrote the names on the boards. Each name below the other. Underneath the last name she wrote the letter Y.

“Can you ask Penelope to track any females with the first name beginning with Y who have purchased a ticket to the next convention?”

Derek quickly began to type to her. The rest of the team looking on in disbelief.

“There were twenty-three purchases, but with cross referencing with the similarities in the other victims, one matched. Her name is Yasmine Driver.”

Y/N wrote the name on the board. Circling all the first letters of each name, it became clear there was another connection with the victims.

“Their initials spell Sally.”

Y/N nodded at JJ’s disbelief.

“Reid, when is the next convention being held?”

Spencer diverted his attention to Emily.

“Their schedule every two weeks, so that would make it… tomorrow.”

The team swiftly moved into action.

“JJ bring together the police force for a debrief. Derek and Rossi, go to the convention centre and question the board about Dean. Ask them how often he visited and if they have any knowledge of the victims visits to the convention. Spencer and Emily, contact Penelope for Faulkner’s address. Once you have visited the home, if he is there, bring him in. We’re going to try and catch him before he gets close to his goal. I will locate Yasmine and bring her to the station for safety. We don’t know how far he is going to go and what the end goal of his fantasy is. But we are going to stop him.”

The team swiftly did as they were told, leaving the room with only Spencer and Y/N behind. Just before the door shot, Hotch leaned back in.

“Thank you, Dr Y/L/N, for all your help. If possible, could you stay here with JJ and look through the documents? You know this guy more than we do, so any more information that comes to mind, please let us know.”

Y/N and Spencer watched as Hotch left the room, the door shutting behind him.

As the silence engulfed them, Y/N and Spencer were hyper aware that they were now alone and had been for the first time in weeks.

Spencer swiftly walked towards Y/N and embraced her in a tight hold. Wrapping her arms around the slender man, Y/N breathed in his scent.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N chuckled at Spencer’s muffled words, as his head rested on top of her own. Pulling back, Y/N slowly released Spencer, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve missed you too Doc. We can catch up later, I will be waiting right here. Now, go and save the girl.”

Spencer chuckled at her words but did as Y/N said. Throwing her a smile, Spencer quickly walked out the room, leaving Y/N behind.

Y/N sat in the room, looking over the files as the time passed, waiting to see Spencer return with the rest of the team. A knock on the door startled her from her search.

Looking up at the door, Y/N saw JJ walk into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. JJ outstretched the one hand, placing the cup in front of Y/N, as she took a seat and began to sip at her own.

“I didn’t know how many sugars you took so I estimated.”

Y/N smiled at the woman’s kindness.

“Thank you. Have you heard anything from the others?”

JJ sat up in her seat as she watched Y/N look over the documents. Her fingers moving across the pages ever so quickly. Her hand that wasn’t tapped continuously on the table in a rhythm.

“Spencer and Emily located Faulkner’s home, but it was vacant. They’re looking around the premises for clues for where he may be; as we speak. Hotch and Derek just called saying they are on their way down with Yasmine now.”

Y/N nodded at her words. Glad to hear that the girl was safe, but the main priority now would be to locate Faulkner. She wanted to truly help them, before anyone else could get hurt.

JJ grabbed her tablet and began to search through the files for any missed out information. Silence befell across the pair, until JJ could not help but ask what they had all been dying to know.

“How did you and Spencer meet?”

Y/N had been waiting for the question. She had seen the looks the team had shared throughout the day. The questioning gazes towards the pair.

“Spencer and I were both guests speaking at the University of California a few months ago. He must have finished his lecture early as he was wondering the halls when he came across the class I was teaching. I was stood on the desk, encouraging the students to do the same. Spencer thought I was a student causing trouble whilst the professor had left the room. He ran in sprouting facts about the percentage of people who fall and severely hurt themselves whilst standing on tables. Telling me that I should get down before he reports me to my professor.”

JJ chuckled at Y/N’s story.

“Sounds like Spence alright.”

Y/N giggled in agreement. As she spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. JJ noticed the smile on the woman’s face. She knew what that smile meant.

“So, I told him that he better stay there to catch me, just in case I fell, as I was trying to teach my students about the importance of character actions, and how doing something as simple as standing on a desk can amplify the tone of the scene. Like in the film Dead Poet’s Society. Spencer finally realised that I was also a guest speaker and he actually stood there for the next 40 minutes of my lecture. I didn’t need to stand on the desk that long, but I wanted to see if he would stay. Once the lecture had finished, he apologised for jumping to conclusions. I apologised for making him wait for 40 minutes in case I fell. He told me I didn’t make him wait; he chose to. We’ve been in contact ever since.”

Just as Y/N finished her story, the door to the conference room opened once more. Looking towards the door, Y/N watched as Hotch entered, followed by Yasmine. The young woman looked scared, but unharmed.

Y/N stood from her seat, unsure of what to do as Hotch insisted for Yasmine to take a seat.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Hotch nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t be long. The rest of the team are outside in the bullpen. You can go ahead and join them. JJ and I will take it from here.”

Y/N nodded her head, leaving the room. She watched as Hotch and JJ questioned spoke to Yasmine through the glass, before she turned and walked down the corridor to find Spencer and his friends.

Turning the corner, Y/N failed to stop herself before bumping into a tall figure. Looking up to apologise, her eyes suddenly widened at the familiar face. Before a sound could leave her lips, a blunt force knocked her out cold.

Spencer and the team discussed where Faulkner could be when Hotch strode into the bull pen.

“How did it go?”

Hotch walked towards his team, ready to answer Derek’s question.

“It seems that Faulkner had been stalking the victims for some time. Yasmine detailed seeing him turn up at the conventions, even though he was no longer allowed. She had previously complained about his behaviour to the board before his dismissal. Stating that Faulkner had sexually harassed her. Rossi, did anyone at the convention mention anything about Faulkner that we don’t know?”

“It seems that Yasmine wasn’t the only one. The other board members went into detail about why he was fired. It turned out that all of our victims, including Yasmine, had filed lawsuits against Faulkner for sexual harassment. The charges were ultimately dropped and never recorded to keep the convention’s reputation clear. But they fired Faulkner and banned him from being able to attend any further conventions. Taking away the Nightmare Before Christmas dedicated stand was just a coincidence. They felt that the convention needed something new as they had been celebrating the film for over eight years.”

Just as Hotch was about to declare what the next step would be in finding Faulkner, JJ burst through the ball pen.

“Guys, you have to come quick.”

The team, in shock, watched as JJ ran back towards the conference room. All quickly on her heels. Entering the room, she took control of the laptop, streaming the image to the projector.

Spencer could no longer breathe as he looked at the image on the screen.

“Y/N.”

The screen showed Y/N tied to a chair and bent forward; clearly in pain. Her surroundings empty and dark.

Suddenly a voice was heard.

“I sense there's something in the wind. That seems like tragedy's at hand isn’t there Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The team watched in horror as Dean Faulkner yanked Y/N’s head back, her body letting out a strangled cry at the pain caused by his actions.

Spencer felt sick, he felt like he was watching himself when Tobias Hankel had held him captive.

“Emily, call Garcia to track his location. We don’t have much time.”

Emily did as Hotch told her to. Talking as quickly as she could on the phone.

“She can’t track it; he’s re-routing the IP address every thirty seconds.”

“She needs to track it. She needs to find her now!”

They all jumped at Spencer’s outburst, watching as tears filled his vision and his hands began to shake.

“Spencer, you need to calm down, we are going to find her. He can’t have taken her far.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words. Taking a breath, he looked back at the screen as he tried to distinguish any recognisable features of where she may be.

Faulkner moved his face to rest against Y/N’s hair, smelling the tresses. She tried to pull away only for him to yank her back again.

“Why did you kill them Dean?”

Faulkner let go of Y/N’s hair. Walking to her side, he grabbed her face in a vicious grip. Yanking her to look at him.

“Why? They ruined my life, everything I ever worked hard for. You all did.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“I did nothing to you.”

Y/N’s breath increased at the vicious look he sent her way. Her eyes flickered to the camera, knowing that Faulkner was streaming what was happening to Spencer and his team. She had to find a way to tell them where she was.

“You made them question my authority. My position. My integrity as a member of the board. You ruined my reputation by belittling me in California.”.

“That’s because you know nothing about horror Dean. You think you know everything about it, but you don’t.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why was Y/N taunting him?

“Garcia’s looking to see if there’s any abandoned properties around the area that he could have taken her to.”

Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Emily’s words.

Faulkner reeled back at Y/N’s taunt.

“I know everything there is to know about horror. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it. I’ve created it. Ask me anything about it, I know the right answers.”

“But you don’t. You have an idea of horror, your own idea, that is wrong. You believe that women are the reason you lost your job and became the monster that you are. But they’re not. The reason you’re a monster is because of your sick and twisted fantasies. You made those girls feel small and weak, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The team watched in apprehension.

“Garcia, the location, we need it now.”

Rossi looked between the screen and the phone in Derek’s hand.

“I can get the area he’s holding her, but not the specific building. The whole town is basically abandoned. She could be anywhere from a shop to a house.”

“Keep looking.”

Spencer chewed on his lips. He had to think rationally. If the unsub was upset about the changes and losing his job, what could have been the last straw?

“Derek what was the film they replaced Nightmare Before Christmas with at the convention.”

Derek and Spencer shared a look.

“Cabin in the Woods.”

Spencer ran across the rooms to the files at hand.

“In the location that Garcia has tracked her too, there are three cabins, all within a walking distance of the other.”

The team began to rush out the room, transferring the livestream to a tablet so they could monitor Faulkner and Y/N.

“You’re weak Dean. You’re just like all the horror movie villains. Ghostface, pinhead, jigsaw, all of them. You feed of fear and feeling in control. But the only thing you have in common with them is that you’re not going to win.”

Faulkner scream in rage. Pulling Y/N’s head back, he punched her in the jaw. Striding to the camera, he pushed his face to the lens.

“The party’s over!”

Spencer watched in horror as the feed went off.

“Hotch we have to hurry!”

Hotch sped up the car. Quickly arriving to the location, the team split up into pairs, taking a cabin each to inspect. Hotch and Derek, Rossi and JJ, and Spencer and Emily veered off to their targeted locations. Spencer followed Emily, trying to stay calm, as he slowly walked into the cabin to find it empty, when suddenly a gun shot was heard. Looking in the direction, the pair ran to the cabin that Derek and Hotch had been assigned. The rest of the team already there, looking into the cabin in shock.

“No, no, no, no. Y/N.”

Spencer pushed in front of them, tears pooling in his eyes as he a waited to see the horror before him. He looked in disbelief as Y/N stood from her position on the floor, the gun dropping from her hand as they shook. Faulkner laid a few feet away, in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

Y/N looked towards the team. Raising her shaking hands towards Spencer.

“I didn’t want to kill him but he was going to shoot whoever walked through the door.”

Spencer rushed forward, grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. His hands stroking her hair as he soother her cries. Leading her out of the cabin, he allowed his team to sort out the rest as he continued to calm Y/N down.

The movement of the team were a blur as ambulances and police cars came. Taking them to the hospital as they sat in the waiting room as Y/N was checked over.

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

Derek excused himself from the groups conversation as he went and sat next to Spencer. Clapping him on the back, Derek squeezed Spencer’s shoulder in re-assurance.

“She’s going to be fine pretty boy.”

“Physically, she has a concussion, bruising along her jawline, and needs stitches on her forehead. Mentally, I don’t know how she is going to handle this. When I suggested asking for her help in the case, I didn’t presume the risk of her being hurt. I should have.”

“Spencer, listen to me. We would have done everything to make sure she lived okay. She not only saved herself but she also helped save Yasmine and this team. Any one of us could have been shot if she had not thought fast and got the gun out of his hands. You know, better than anyone, how to help her deal with this.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words, nodding his head in appreciation, as he leaned against his friend in a comforting hug.

“Probably wasn’t the ideal way to introduce your girlfriend to the team though.”

Spencer stuttered at Derek’s teasing.

“We’re profilers Spencer. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been happier these past few months and seeing how persistent you were for us to consult Y/N, it gave us all an idea why. Seeing you together only confirmed our suspicions. So, how long has pretty boy had his pretty girl?”

Spencer chuckled at Derek’s words. Ringing his hands together as he spoke to Derek.

“Tomorrow is actually our six-month anniversary. She was going to be flying back today so we could celebrate; unless I got called on a case.”

“We can still celebrate.”

Spencer looked up as Y/N walked through the waiting room, fresh stitches on her forehead and an ice pack resting in her hands.

“The nurse said that there was no internal damage. That my body will just be sore for a few weeks. My concussion is light, so I am alright to travel home.”

The team gathered around to check on her. But her eyes could not leave Spencer’s as he rose from his seat. Spencer walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Carefully he cupped her face in his hands, and to the surprise of Y/N and his team, Spencer bowed his head and placed a careful kiss on Y/N’s lips. Slow, protective, and full of love.

Pulling back, Spencer wrapped his arms around her as he looked at the beaming smiles of his teammates. Y/N couldn’t help the blush across her cheeks or the giggle that followed. Soon, everyone was chuckling at the pair.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. From the entire team. Your actions saved a young woman’s life, and what could have been one of our own.”

Y/N smiled in appreciation at Rossi’s words.

“You’re Spencer’s family. I would do it all again if I had to.”

“Statistically speaking, around 2,000 people a day are reported missing in the US. Approximately, 600 of those would be reported or considered kidnappings. It is highly unlikely for you to be put in a situation like that again.”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend.

“I never thought I would say this, but your talk about me being kidnapped again is really attractive.”

The team laughed at the girl’s statement, seeing Spencer become physically embarrassed.

“Just to inform everyone, the jet will be ready to depart in forty-five minutes. As I was informed that today you would have been heading home, Y/N we have sent for your belongings to be collected; you can fly back with us.”

Spencer smiled at Hotch in gratitude, the older man knowing he would have only worried if she had flown home alone.

“Thank you, Mr Hotchner.”

Hotch let out a brief smile.

“Call me Hotch. Your part of Spencer’s life, that means your part of this family.”

BAU JET

It had been an exhausting few days for the team, and it showed, as they all were sporadically asleep throughout the jet. Silence encompassed the steel capsule, with only the sound of sleep filled breaths being heard.

Y/N laid fast asleep, with her head on Spencer’s shoulder, as the boy genius sat up wide awake. Looking down at the woman next to him, all Spencer could imagine was what could have happened if they weren’t quick enough. How many days he would have lost with her. All the things he wanted to tell her.

As though she could sense his deep thoughts, Y/N slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her mouth. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she waited till she was fully conscious before she spoke.

“What time is it Doc?”

Spencer jostled out of his thoughts to check the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 2:36 am. You’ve been asleep for approximately 3 hours and 22 minutes.”

Y/N quickly sat up in her seat, wide awake.

Spencer turned towards her in worry, wondering what had made her so alert.

“What wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need some painkillers, as your due to have…”

Y/N grabbed Spencer’s face and placed her lips flush against his own. Their mouths moved in unison, as Spencer’s own hands moved to circle around her waist, bringing their bodies as close as they could be in the small space they had. They hadn’t kissed since the hospital, and before then it had been weeks. Spencer never realised until then, how much he truly missed her touch, her taste, her as a whole.

Coming to a point where they both lacked breathe, the pair pulled apart. Their eyes fluttering open as Y/N’s hands caressed Spencer’s face. Her one hand travelled to his hair, feeling the tresses that had grown since she had last seen him. She looked at him in a way no one had before. Spencer shared the same expression.

“Happy six-month anniversary Spencer. I love you.”

Spencer looked at Y/N in disbelief.

“Before you start spouting of facts about transference and how I am probably only saying this because you saved my life, you’re wrong. Because then I would be telling Hotch and Morgan the same thing.”

Spencer couldn’t help the watery smile that graced his face. For the second time in the past day, his eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were good.

“I’ve known I have loved you for a long time. For five months actually. I knew I loved you when we made pizza in your apartment and we ended up burning it, so we ordered one instead.”

Spencer laughed at the memory. It was the first time Spencer had initiated their make out. He had watched her cooking, in his apartment, and he had never found her more attractive than he did seeing her in his home.

“I knew that whilst you were spouting of facts about the invention of the pizza that I loved you and that I could listen to you forever. I love you Spencer.”

Spencer pulled Y/N closer to him as he rested his forehead against her own. The pair basked in each other’s presence.

“Past surveys show that men wait just 88 days to say those three little words to their partner for the first time, and 39 percent say them within the first month. Women, on the other hand, take an average 134 days. You knew after 31 days that you loved me. I knew after our first date that the way I felt when I was with you is a feeling that I could not even describe with my vast vocabulary. I knew after 8 days that the way I felt was stronger than liking you and that was a frightening thought. But its scarier to think what could have happened to you yesterday. That I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I made that mistake before. I will never make it again. I love you too.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile and giggle that overtook her. Spencer, feeling high of the serotonin that was coursing through his body, couldn’t help his laugh either. Soon the pair were a giggling mess, unaware of the team who had all begun to awaken whilst the pair were talking.

The team congregated to the back of the jet, allowing the couple to stay in their own bubble.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him truly happy.”

The group nodded at Emily’s words.

JJ smiled as she watched her best friend rattle of the possible movies that he and his girlfriend could spend their anniversary watching as she recovered. Her smile growing even wider at Y/N’s enthusiasm to watch the film’s in their original language. None of them could miss the look of adoration beaming between the pair.

“Yeah, it really has.”

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

A/N- It isn’t the best but I really enjoyed writing this one.

[lenaariewrld]

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KUROO — 8. a strange feeling

You wake up when you feel an unexpected weight suddenly placed on your chest, a gentle rumbling echoing through your ribcage. Your eyes peek open to see your cat, a shark hat strapped under her chin. “Bimmie!” You coo sleepily, your arms cradling the cat and rubbing her spine. She arches her butt against your palms.

“Good morning. Time to get up,” Kuroo stands at the foot of your bed, fully dressed and staring at you over a mug of coffee. You turn your attention away from your cat to glare at him.

“What time is it?”

“Seven,”

“Fuck that,” You turn back to loving on your cat, scratching her ears and chin and rubbing the sides of her fluffy body. She purrs and coos from all the wonderful attention, kneading her paws into you particularly hard when she enjoys the rubs you give her. A gentle laugh leaves you when she finally decides she has had enough and she saunters her way to the space on your bed not occupied by humans, curling up and tucking her paws beneath herself.

Kuroo is still standing by your bed and waiting for you to get up. You sigh and sit up, frowning deeply. “Why am I getting up so early for?” You ask, “It better be for those good pancakes, or else I will kill you,” You threaten softly.

The man chuckles, watching you get up sluggishly. His amusement continues as you drag yourself around the room to gather your proper materials for waking up and being a functioning member of society. Because mornings do not make you look like a functional member of society.

He seats himself in your chair while you leave to head to your bathroom.

“We need to go grocery shopping... I got the others to make lists of things they wanted or needed, what meals we could make, and all that. I just need someone to keep track of the list,” He informs you, spinning the chair to look around your room.

The walls are decorated with posters of your favorite characters from anime and tv shows you like, shelves stacked with manga or figurines from games you’ve adored. Your desk is a neat mess of gaming things and just cute knick-knacks that make it look more you. Kuroo finds himself smiling at it all.

The bathroom door opens sometime later and he turns his head to hear you if you should speak. “Okay, I’m assuming this is your roundabout way of telling me if I go, you’ll buy me snacks?” You pose the question, rubbing a towel over your head to dry your hair.

Kuroo hums.

“You got a deal,” He finally declares, a cheeky smile flashing in your direction. You sarcastically smile back, heading to your closet and grabbing clothes to change into. Kuroo once again takes the time to look around your room.

You don’t go through your entire morning routine this time, deciding to save the man the trouble and put it off until you feel more energized to actually have thoughts. Instead, you just settle for a good shower and clean clothes. Kuroo waits patiently for you the entire time, standing up and holding out his mug for you. To your surprise, it’s not his coffee but yours, made exactly how you like it.

A funny warmth spreads in your chest, and you haven’t even drank the coffee yet.

“Thank you,” You hum, following him downstairs and towards the front door, nursing your mug the whole way. It’s not piping hot so drinking larger gulps is much easier.

You make a quick stop in the kitchen to transfer your coffee to a more portable cup before heading outside. Kuroo is waiting for you once again, a patient smile on his face.

The whole drive he plays soft music, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You notice he only moves his pointer finger or pinkie to drum.

“Okay,” You brace yourself in your seat, wiggling your body as much as you can to face Kuroo more. “What is the plan this time, chief?” You raise your brow and slide your cup into the cup holder that separates the driver and passenger seat.

“I’ve already organized the shopping list into different categories so we can just go from aisle to aisle and get it all rather than jumping throughout the whole store,” Kuroo says, “It’s on my phone,” He adds before you can question where this oh-so-meticulously put-together list is. Instead, you nod. Kuroo smiles and hands you the device from his sweatpants pocket.

“Add your snacks,”

The rest of the drive is short and helps wake you up completely. By the time Kuroo parks and you climb out, you have the energy to ransack a whole 7-11. Hypothetically.

Kuroo leads you inside, letting you push the cart and being, for once, responsible about the shopping while you trail behind with a small smile. He tells you all the tips for making sure vegetables are ripe or fruits are the kind of look and taste you might want, how to get the best quality of items without overpaying, and what to look for when buying fresh meat.

Admittedly, you are indulging him. You know a good portion of the tips (let’s be honest, who doesn’t know how to make sure an apple or a tomato is good?). However, his happiness to tell you and his earnest helpfulness are refreshing.

“Do you eat salads?” You question as he turns the third variety of lettuce in his hand, inspecting it for bug bites and dirt. “Because that’s the only thing I can think of why you need multiple kinds of lettuces,” You add when he looks at you. Kuroo pouts.

“Don’t be mean,” He huffs. You giggle.

“Then put down the lettuce. Stick to the list. And I don’t see three types of lettuces on here,”

Kuroo sets down the lettuce and turns to you, lightly keeping his hand on the cart. He leans close to you as if preparing to share a secret. “What if I just wanted us all to be healthier?” He says, adding a ‘hmm’ at the end as if he owned you with his sick hypothetical logic. You bump his shoulder and keep pushing the cart past all the leafy vegetables.

“As if you care,”

Kuroo dramatically slaps his hand over his chest. “I am wounded, muffin,” He leans over the cart to lay against your back, laughing as you try to shove him off. However, he was an athlete in high school and still kind of works out thanks to Bokuto being his roommate. You, who has never even looked at an exercise machine, are not as strong as him, and struggle to move him.

“You’re wounding me now!” You shove his bicep, earning a laugh from him. He only drapes his arms around your shoulders, relaxing his body against you further without actually hurting you.

A few other shoppers in the store look at you two. It’s mainly older women, and they simply smile at the two of you and shuffle past without saying anything.

How cute they are, they must think, so happy.

You finally manage to get Kuroo off of you and continue the shopping trip, now with a lot fewer distractions. You make Kuroo keep one hand on the cart as a precaution, reading off items he needs to grab. He doesn’t pout or complain, simply nodding along and going with what you say.

“I know this song,” You comment as you push the cart farther into an aisle. You strain your ears to hear the music faintly playing over the store’s speakers, a smile spreading on your lips as you recognize the tune you had listened to on repeat before. “It’s one of my favorites,”

“Really?” Kuroo carefully grabs a jar of jam and sets it in the car basket. You hum and nod. He smiles back and crosses his arms as he leans on the side of the cart, watching your face. “Why did you like it?”

You stop pushing the cart to check the list. “Why wouldn’t I? It was a great dancing song,” You shrug and cross off the items the both of you already set in the cart. A good chunk of the list had been cleared, and you smile at how much you’ve already completed of this trip. You turn off the phone and hold it out for the man, letting him take it back.

“Show me?” Kuroo asks, holding out his hand. You let out a small laugh. Dancing in the middle of a store aisle sounds like something from a romantic book or movie. Gently, you take his hand and step closer to him. The shopping was temporarily forgotten.

You start leading him in a simple dance, stumbling through the motions as you try to hear the music over the other noises of the store. Kuroo chuckles and follows your lead, holding both your hands and twisting around the small space. A laugh bubbles in your throat and he twirls you, his hand coming around your waist to pull you in again. “You’re quite skilled!” You say, squeezing his hand twice.

He squeezes back.

Again, you feel a funny warmth in your chest. This time, paired with a fluttering in your stomach. Kuroo’s smile never fades as he stares at you, continuing the silly made-up dance you both perform.

“You’re the one leading, I should say that about you,” Kuroo once again twirls you. You release one of his hands and extend your arm, twirling back in until your back hits his chest. You giggle. “See?” He comments, humming along to the song.

You both rock back and forth like that for a moment.

“Now you’re just being cheesy,” You tease, stepping away from the man. He shakes his head playfully, brushing off your words. You run your fingers through your hair, clearing your throat. “We should get back to the shopping,” You take the cart again. Kuroo is right behind you, already with a new item from the list in his hand. He sets it in the basket before placing his hand back on the handle.

You pat the back of his hand, relaxing your hand over his absentmindedly.

The shopping continues like normal, with occasional breaks for Kuroo to look at items or point out interesting things he sees. It’s quick work, and you find yourself at the checkout before you know it, packing your items into bags and carrying them to the car.

The strange stomach twisting doesn’t die down. Even when you unpack the bags with Kuroo, roping Kageyama and Bokuto into helping you both put all the groceries away, it sticks.

Strange.

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funfacts:

Kuroo is in charge of the grocery shopping because he’s the only one who likes doing it

Kenma or Yamaguchi usually go shopping with Kuroo but he decided to torment you instead

taglist: @odxrilove @pogpixelz @toshiswifey @thechaosoflonging @anime-meme-sanctuary @chaseyui @lucyrocks86 @mirikusashes @bolinhodadestruicao @w0rm-babie @fandomsgotmefucked @meena-in-a-nutshell @halcyondaisy @emisse @cerealfrdinner797 @sakusasimpbot

[prettywordsyouleft]

Miss Writer

Pairing: Brian Kang x female reader

World: To Be Continued

Genre: writer au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: So I had no intentions of returning to the TBC world so soon, but as you can read below, I had a bit of trouble trying to write something for 2021 and this is the result of my nonsense thoughts at the time. I really am happy I wrote this as it feels like a good opening act for what’s to come this year!

Word count: 1558

“Hey! Did you hear about the writer who didn’t want to write?”

“They what?”

“She sat there for hours on end, just avoiding every idea that came to mind.”

“But why? Aren’t writers meant to write?”

“Why am I writing this?” you complained out loud, sighing heavily and leaning back in your computer chair. Staring at the basic dialogue in your word document, you groaned.

Why was it so hard to write?

You had been through this before. Where the words wouldn’t flow the right way, and your characters felt hollow.

But that was because Brian wasn’t in the story at the time.

You couldn’t solve this the way you had back then either. Once Brian had gone back into the world he had stepped out of, you finished the story without any further mishaps. In this case, you didn’t have any other fictional characters stepping out of any novel you had written to send back in. You didn’t even have a character to write about.

That was no doubt the whole problem.

“Miss Writer,” a voice called out, and you turned, smiling warmly at the man leaning against the threshold. Brian tipped his head in your direction. “How’s it going? Is your next bestseller getting ready to leap onto the pages?”

“Ha! At the rate I’m going, I might as well retire.”

“What?” Walking over to your side, Brian then leaned down to inspect your laptop’s screen. “You’ve written only four lines in two hours.”

“Four lines are better than none, though, I can’t say they’re four impressive lines,” you muttered, pouting up at the man. “I’m broken.”

“Shall I fix you?” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were almost on yours when the doorbell rang. Brian heaved in a heavy breath. “If that’s Sungjin, I swear…”

“It’s probably Lily,” you mentioned with a knowing smile, climbing out of your chair and heading down to the front door to answer it. When you swung it open, however, you merely stared back at the woman standing there.

“Can we help you?” Brian asked from over your shoulder, right when you gasped noisily. “Y/N?”

“You’re… you’re… no way.”

Sungjin leaned around the side of the house and grinned. “Y/N! You need to stop making people so realistic that they come to life.”

“I’m confused,” Brian announced as you began to bounce with excitement, reaching out to touch the woman’s hand before you.

She grabbed it warmly and grinned at you. “I’m so amazed to finally meet you!”

“Ella,” you murmured and then glanced at Sungjin standing all too protectively at her side. “You found your Constable.”

“Ella?” Brian echoed and then lurched forward, leaning over you. “Ella from the Protector story?!”

Ella nodded and held out her hand to Brian. “You must be the first of our kind, Brian Kang, right?”

“Our kind?”

“Well, I had to explain it somehow to Ella,” Sungjin admitted with a chuckle. “It’s not every day that characters step out of documents, now is it?”

“Maybe that’s why I can’t write,” you murmured, watching the instant despair cross over your friend’s face, whilst a smug smile appeared on your partner’s. Rolling your eyes, you shunted Brian in the side before stepping aside and letting them inside. “Come, I promise this time I’m more equipped to dealing with my characters in the flesh. I won’t be fainting this time.”

“I’m starting to get worried now,” Brian confessed later in the evening as he carried your cat Binks around. “If Ella’s here too, who’s going to be next?”

“Well, considering I can’t seem to create anyone, you won’t have a problem any time soon.”

Brian pointed at you in warning. “Don’t you dare go opening Destined’s file.”

“Ooh, now there’s an idea!” you teased, grinning at Brian as you approached him. Stretching up to kiss him softly, you shook your head. “I doubt I could love anymore more than you if I tried.”

“And you always say I’m the charmer yet here you are causing my heart to go erratic with lines like that,” Brian stated with a giddy smile, his eyes disappearing and turning into little crescents.

“Well, you can’t be the one with the upper hand all the time.”

“Miss Writer.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think Ella is the problem this time. I think you’re just putting too much pressure on your shoulders.”

“Pressure?” you repeated with a frown and Brian placed Binks down before nodding at you. “Of course, I’m under pressure! I have to get my first chapter to Lily by next week, and I have nothing, not even a name.”

“You’re trying to write the next best thing, aren’t you?”

“That’s the whole concept of being an author, Brian. Writing something better than your last story. We’re always on the path of personal growth during this journey, Brian.”

“I know,” he agreed initially, rubbing your shoulders affectionately. You let out a small whine, not realising how tense your body was until he touched you. Brian instantly moved behind you and started working out the knots residing there. He stopped, leaning close to your ear. “But can’t you just write something for fun?”

“Fun?”

“Isn’t that the whole point of writing? To enjoy the world you create. You’ve been non-stop since I’ve known you. Before my world, you write a four part series with Jinyoung, then a three part series with me and Charli. Right after that, you completed Protector, and now you’re looking to follow that up as quickly as you can even though it’s only in the publication stages.”

Brian stepped around to face you, his face growing concerned. “Why don’t you slow down? Write something just for yourself.”

“I have. I wrote you into existence,” you reminded, and Brian slid his hands around your waist and tugged you closer. Placing your palms upon his chest, you gazed up at him lovingly. “I have to write something worth publishing.”

“Do you?”

“Huh?”

“Why not write something that the world will never see?” Brian offered and you chewed on your bottom lip in thought. “I think you’ve forgotten the joy of writing just for yourself, Miss Writer.”

The following morning, you sat at your desk deep in thought. Brian’s words had played over in your mind throughout the night and still were at the forefront of your mind now.

Did he think you had lost your personal enjoyment along the way as an author?

“Hey, that can’t be right,” you hummed, shaking your head before posing your index finger back up to your lips.

Had you?

The last time you had written something just for your own pure enjoyment was Destined. Sure, you had been excited by your ideas ever since, and laughed, cried, grown frustrated and been endlessly happy with the words you had crafted. But you were also contracted to write down those words. Since the third part of Destined, you had been signed under the publishing house you belonged to and had written consistently since. You hadn’t taken any time to write for yourself, aside from short stories here and there when you didn’t feel like working on a bigger story.

Even though you had enjoyed the journey thus far, it hadn’t been one you took alone.

“Maybe Brian’s right,” you said, blinking a couple of times before reaching into the top drawer of your desk for your external hard-drive. Glancing at the clock to see how much time you had left before Brian got home from running errands, you took in a deep breath, opening up your older fiction files.

Back here you were full of naivety and fresh ideas. The world was your oyster, as the saying went, and you had been hoarding many of them. As you scanned the title of projects you once hoped to write, you shook your head in amazement.

“There’s so many ideas here that I haven’t tried yet,” you breathed, stopping on one and clicking to expand the notes on it. “Wow, an enemies to lovers story.”

You continued to make your way through, finding an assortment of ideas. From fluff to angst, and all those in between, you had ample inspiration here to fill an entire year of stories.

“Should I indulge myself in writing these for a bit and come back to writing my next novel at a later date?” you wondered, your smile growing as your computer’s cursor hovered over an idea that piqued your interest.

“I’m back!” a voice called out and you spun around in your chair, leaping up and dashing into the arms of the man you loved. Brian chuckled. “Well, I missed you too!”

“You were right! Instead of looking for the best idea for my next story, I need to take some time off and write for me.”

“I was, huh?” he mused with satisfaction, cupping your face within his hands. “So what do you plan to write next?”

“I have so many ideas! There’s general domestic stories and a murder mystery, some periodic pieces about pilots and regency era based ideas. Of course, there’s a bunch of fluffy ideas, with a few royal au ones and even pirates! But you know, there’s one I really want to try first.”

“Which is?”

You grinned before poking his nose fondly. “You’ll just have to wait and find out what’s to come.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[encouleurdevie]

OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT. TIMOTHEE CHALAMET AT THE GOLDEN GLOBES. THE RINGS THAT HE WEARS GIVE ME A STROKE. YOU SHOULD WRITE SOMETHING INCORPORATING THOSE RINGS CAUSE... GODDAMN 🥵

Rings

a/n: …. sorry for disappearing for a while. send me ideas, i read them all, and i literally have google docs opened for all of them it’s just a matter of making myself be productive lol i love you. thank you for reading it means more than you’ll ever know

word count: 3100

“Be there in 5 minutes.” you typed as the taxi sped down the road towards a hotel that was much too fancy for your taste. But it was where Timothee was staying and you couldn’t say no to an invitation to come and take pictures of him before his big night. He was a nominee at the Golden Globes this year, and according to his previous texts, his stylists had gone all out for the occasion. One mirror selfie prompted you to pack your camera bag and hail a taxi to where he was staying. You were already drooling over how stunning his head-to-toe black outfit would look on your newest camera, which only shot in black and white.

As a photographer, you had a knack for capturing people at their best. It didn’t matter how confident they were or how camera shy they claimed to be, you had a way of making your subjects comfortable and carefree. People often told you that your photos were some of the most unique and beautiful they’d seen, which is how you had gotten to the point of photographing the enigmatic but easily recognizable faces of Hollywood. And it was going well, for the most part. Celebrities loved the attention they received after you released their photos. They loved feeling so special because of your attention to detail and poise behind the camera, and you loved the fact that they felt beautiful because of your photos. However, many of them would simply pay you for your time and then be on their way, never to speak to you again unless someone from their team of people reached out to you for another shoot. 

Timothee, however, was not one of these people. Months earlier, he had personally reached out to you online, expressing how much he liked your photos and how he’d love to do a shoot sometime. Nothing prepared you for the whirlwind of events that were to follow.

The first time you had taken his picture, you were blown away by how effortlessly attractive he was as he posed for you. The pictures turned out beautifully, but nothing could capture his essence as clearly as you could see it in person, so animated and electrifying. It would be a lie to say you weren’t smitten from the first click of your camera. As it turned out, Timothee was drawn to your passion for photography, your eclectic style, and the way your eyes looked when you stared at him carefully and told him how to pose. The second or third time you had taken his picture, a late night shoot on some of the hidden streets in LA, you had barely gotten ten pictures before he couldn’t stand it anymore and kissed you hard in an alleyway. You remembered waking up next to him, messy haired and in your underwear, the next morning. 

The photoshoots and secret rendezvous became routine, and before long you became a somewhat permanent member of his team, showing up to events and interviews and snapping photos. On the surface, you were merely his photographer, a background character in the spotlight of his life, but behind the dressing room door, he would be carefully undressing you and kissing you with a passion you didn’t know was possible. A secret affair from the public, and an erotic motivation for your art. 

As the taxi cab turned corners, you reminisced on the stolen kisses and the heat of his body moving against yours. When the hotel, in all of its high-end California glory, came into view, you shook your head in an attempt to get your mind back on the present. You thanked the cab driver and stepped out into the heat of Beverly Hills, walking quickly into the hotel lobby. 

Timothee had instructed you where to go once you were inside, so you made your way down the winding hallways until you found his room number. You knocked on the door twice, and waited. Within seconds, the door was yanked open and you were standing in front of the man who had come to be your muse. Timothee looked even better every time you saw him, and this time was no exception. The outfit looked even better in person than it had on your phone. The pristine black fabric of his shirt and pants fit his body snugly, and the small sequins that dotted his Louis Vuitton harness glinted in the light.

“Well hello, stranger,” he smiled.

“Hello, Mr. Fashion Man,” you replied, taking in the bold yet totally tasteful outfit.

He laughed his beautiful laugh and motioned for you to come into the posh hotel room which was decorated with various art deco furniture and paintings. Instead of having you set up in the indoor space, he walked across the room and out into an enclosed outdoor patio area.

“I was thinking this would be a cool spot,” he stated and looked at you for approval. You glanced around at the tall plants that bordered the small yard and admired the varying green hues of the space.

“This will be perfect,” you exclaimed, “but we need one thing.”

You dashed back into the room, and grabbed a tall metal chair that had caught your eye on the way in. You set it down in the grass, and made sure it was perfectly framed by leaves.

Timothee watched you closely, and smirked. “Always so full of ideas, aren’t you?”

You grinned at him and started unloading your camera bag onto a table just outside of the sliding glass door. You felt his eyes on you even after you looked away, making your heart beat ever so slightly faster.

“The newest addition to my collection,” you said proudly, reaching in your bag and then holding up your new camera. 

“Is that a film camera?” he stepped closer to you to see it better. And that was when you noticed them. As he reached up to try holding the camera, you noticed the small collection of rings positioned on his fingers. One on his pointer, one on his middle finger. You’d never seen him wear jewelry before and were taken aback by how good the rings looked on him. A tiny detail against the rest of his outfit, but a detail that for some reason made you lose all focus. As you gazed at his fingers, you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Yes. Um, yeah. I found it at an antique store last week and fixed it up.”

His eyes flicked up to you, obviously noticing the way you hesitated, and saw your eyes locked on his fingers as he held your camera. 

You brushed it off. “Anyway, I thought it would be cool to try it out. I forgot how much I love film.”

“Yeah. Okay, let’s do it.” He handed you the camera, and you noticed the way he made sure to brush his fingers against yours. This was going to be a long shoot if your mind kept wandering to other places, like it was starting to in that moment.

Timothee perched himself gently on the chair as you finished setting up the camera. When everything was ready to go, you brought the camera to your face, ready to start snapping away. The looks he was giving you could have melted iron. He knew exactly what he was doing too. As his eyes burned through the camera and he moved between poses, he began absently twisting the rings around his fingers. He moved them around, up and down his fingers, and spinning them around. 

The slight movement, paired with the fire in his eyes was making you squeeze your legs together. The rings were sexy, distracting, and clearly causing a lot of feelings to stir within you. His fingers were the only thing on your mind. You were always surprised at how he didn’t even have to say a single world. He just had to lock his big green eyes on yours and you were putty in his hands.

You pulled the camera away from your face, accidentally revealing your flushed cheeks.

“I just… um. I need to check something with the… uh… the shutter speed.” you said and it came out sounding more like a strangled whisper.

Timothee stood up instantly, and within seconds he was standing right in front of you. 

“No you don’t.” he cooed. You felt his presence so close to yours, and once again your eyes were glued to the rings on his fingers. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re aching aren’t you?” 

You looked up at him, and that was the end of it. He took the camera from your shaky hands and bent down until his lips were pressed roughly on yours. If this was what getting busted for having dirty thoughts about Timothee meant, you would gladly accept the consequences. 

He started nudging you backwards into the hotel room, one hand on the small of your back the other reaching out to set the camera back in your bag. Obviously, you wouldn’t be needing that for a while. You reached up, still moving your lips messily against his, and clasped your hands behind his head, gently touching the curls that graced the back of his neck.

Timothee pulled away for a second, letting you both catch your breath. His demeanor had gone from the smiley boy who greeted you at the door, to a worked up and dominating version of himself. You could sense how worked up he was too, and how much he craved your body. Every time something like this happened between the two of you, it was like the first time. There was so much sexual tension between you and the second someone initiated anything it was like an explosion of repressed feelings. And it felt so good.

As soon as Timothee led you across the threshold of the room, he fell back onto a chair that had been pulled away from expensive-looking desk. He pulled you right on top of him so that your chests were right up against each other. You straddled his legs, causing your flowy skirt to bunch up around your thighs. Timothee’s hands followed the fabric, gently grazing the skin on your legs until he had a firm grasp on your hips underneath your skirt. As he traced his fingers along the waistband of your panties, you felt the rings against you, causing your breath to hitch. 

“I saw you looking at them, baby.” he whispered against your ear. “Thought you might like them.”

“Fuck.” you groaned against his neck. “They look so good…”

You pushed yourself closer to him, grinding your hips onto his and feeling the outline of his hardening cock beneath you. In a swift movement, he pulled one hand away from your waist and brought it back down on your ass quickly. The warmth of his hand coupled with the cool metal of the rings made you squeal in anticipation. His hands guided your body as you continued to rub your hips against his lower half.

“Stand up.” he directed, his voice coming out cool and confidently arousing. You climbed off his lap, painstakingly dragging your body away from his, despite only wanting to be touching him everywhere. You stood up on shaky legs between his knees as he looked up at you from where he continued to sit. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, his stare filled with desire. Calmly, and still gauging your reaction, he gathered the material of your skirt in his fists and tugged downward. The light fabric fell from your body smoothly and pooled around your ankles, leaving you in your blouse and lacy underwear in front of him. His eyes hungrily raked across your body.

You really couldn’t stand not touching him for a second longer, so you bent down and caught his lips in yours. His hands cupped your jaw as you licked into his mouth, and you dropped your hands to the top of his pants. You popped the first button open and fumbled around until your fingers worked the zipper down. He pushed up against you, still kissing you hard, just enough so that he could push his black pants down to his knees. 

“Now come back here.” he mumbled against your lips. You didn’t need to be told twice. You let your body fall back open, spreading your legs so that you were straddling him again, this time only underwear between your lower halves. Your draped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

Timothee snaked one hand up the back of your blouse, sending a shiver up your spine, and began inching the other hand down the front of your panties. 

“I know what you want, princess.” he whispered. “I know you’ve been thinking about my fingers since you walked in the goddamn door.”

He ran a finger teasingly across your slit, and his face broke into a cocky grin as soon as he realized how wet you were for him. His eyes were locked on yours with such intensity you felt like if you broke the stare you might burst into flames. He began rubbing his fingers in slow circles around your clit, eliciting a string of moans to come tumbling from your lips, which you were biting down on to try and stifle the noise.

But your mouth quickly fell open as he slowly, slowly pushed a finger into you. His face remained calm but he knew exactly what he was doing to you, knew exactly the way he made you feel. You whimpered as you felt his ring make contact with your entrance. 

“That feel good baby?”

You didn’t reply, but merely sighed heavily in response, feeling so worked up. 

“I said does that feel good baby.”

“Fuck.. yes I-” Before you could finish speaking he was inserting a second finger, and didn’t stop until both fingers were ring-deep inside of you. You could feel every inch of his fingers sending waves of pleasure straight to your brain. He stilled for a second, still with his fingers inside of you and tilted his face up to yours. He just looked at you, his face emotionless but stern, studying you closely. He was driving you crazy, edging you on, and still giving you that stupid look. This was exactly what you craved.

“Look at me.” he said. “Look me in the eyes when I touch you.” You dragged your eyes open to meet his only inches away. He pulled his fingers down and out in one quick motion, before sliding them right back in and starting up a rhythm. In and out, scissoring you open a bit, feeling your walls, rings colliding with your entrance each time he pushed his fingers back in. You dripped onto his fingers, covering his knuckles with your juices. Moans spilled from your mouth as you bounced lightly on his fingers. You gripped his shoulders, pulling at the black fabric that was still annoyingly on his body. The way Timothee touched you radiated this dominant energy despite the fact that you were on top. He had a way of making you feel like all of you was his, no matter what position you ended up in, and it drove you wild. 

You started feeling your stomach get tighter, teetering on the edge of cumming all over his fingers. He noticed this too and began pulling his fingers out of you, not ready to let you come apart just yet.

“Clean it up.” he said putting his fingers close by your face. You took his hand in both of yours and slowly licked up the mess you made on his fingers. Your brain felt fuzzy, still grasping for the high he denied you, and as you licked yourself off his fingers your heart pounded in needy anticipation. Timothee watched you with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He began edging a hand down into his underwear, which were tight as his cock strained against them. You watched his jaw clench and unclench as he began pumping himself, getting harder and harder as you licked his fingers.

The sight was enough to throw you over the edge. You could not wait any longer. 

You let his hand drop from yours and you pushed yourself up and against him until the tip of his dick was right at your entrance. 

“You gonna fuck me, baby? You wanna ride my dick?” Timothee hissed.

You groaned in response and dropped your body down, letting his cock fill you all the way up until you bottomed out. A low, loud groan fell from his mouth and his hands found their way back to your hips. You allowed yourself to fixate on the feeling of him inside of you, filling you up so perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

After a second of adjustment, his hands found your hips again, and began guiding you, up and down, roughly, against him. The rhythm got faster and faster, and you whimpered above him as the incredible sensations racked through your body. He groaned beneath you, loving the way your pussy felt around him and the way your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders. He leaned forward and placed open mouthed kisses along your collarbone which was peeking out over the top of your now very messed up blouse, as the two of you got closer and closer. 

You dropped your head down onto his shoulder as you felt yourself start to tighten around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god. I’m gonna cum.” you moaned into his neck, feeling his hot skin and the tight breaths coming out of him. 

“You look sooo good, Y/N,” he whined moving his hands to your ass and rocking you against him. It was like you couldn’t get close enough to each other, and your bodies moved together in hot quick motions. Timothee angled himself into you and you suddenly felt him so deeply, so electrically, so incredibly well. You felt yourself come apart around his cock, grinding your hips down into his and crying out as the pleasure flowed through your body. 

The intensity of your orgasm was enough to throw Timothee over the edge too. He fucked up into you roughly as you clenched yourself around him, still coming down from your own high. He moaned your name loudly in your ear as he came undone, cumming in hot spurts inside you, and still holding your hips tightly against him. 

His dominant aura began to disappear as he recomposed himself, and his face melted into a smile. 

“God, I’m so obsessed with you.” he said, breathing heavily.

You leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. “You’re my muse, Timothee.” You peppered more kisses on his cheeks and neck.

The smile stayed plastered on his face for the rest of the evening, and through the award show he attended later, where he beamed at the rest of the cameras, thinking about how none of them could ever compare to you.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Seven: Knotted

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): eavesdropping, angst, Yoongi kinda being a dick but not too bad lol

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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The warm water ran down your skin and onto the tiled floor of the shower. It was odd having a shower where you could stretch your arms out wide in, you were used to small showers that barely allowed you to shave your legs without hitting your head. But, the shower at the dorm was huge and you couldn't help, but stay in for much longer than was needed, allowing the water to massage your shoulders. 

After finding out that all of South Korea (and probably beyond) knew your name and thought you cheated on Minki, you'd curled up on the seat of the car. If you hadn't let Eunji drag you to the bar that night, none of this ever would've happened. You never would've met Yoongi. 

Your heart pained when the thought crossed your mind. Never meeting Yoongi. Despite the fact, he seemed to be more trouble than he was worth, there was part of your heart that didn't want to let go of him. And, it was the part you knew you needed to suppress. 

You heard a soft knock on the door, barely audible over the sound of the water. You knew it was him before he even spoke, you weren't sure if it was due to the soulmates thing or if your heart truly was betraying you because as soon as you heard his voice, all the stress you held in your chest released. 

"Sumi? Is it all right if I come in?"

"Yeah," you said. You weren't overly worried about Yoongi catching sight of your naked body. There was enough steam on the shower doors to disguise you, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. 

"We can do my--uh--date once you get out," he said. "It's nothing much, but I hope it's okay. I brought you some clothes."

"Thanks." 

"Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Tea." 

"Okay, when you're done just come to my studio. I've left you a note with the code." 

---

You finished a few minutes later wrapping your hair up in a towel. You glanced down at the clothes he'd left for you, smiling when recognized them as pajamas with Shooky, his BT21 character on them. You smiled. 

You changed and braided your hair so that it would stay out of the way and would be easy to tend to the next morning before the flight to Japan. After washing your face, you reached into the pocket of the pajamas and pulled out the sticky note with the code to Yoongi's studio. 

Despite having been in his studio before, it felt odd entering the code yourself. You held your finger gingerly above the keypad and entered each number slowly, scared that if you messed up the code an alarm would go off. 

4...6...5...5...9...click!

The lock released and you heaved open the door surprised that it was so heavy. When you walked in, you found blankets on the couch and a laptop perched on the desk a couple feet from the desk. You smiled and sat down on the couch, crossing your legs, and pulling a blanket over yourself. 

Despite having been in the studio before, it seemed dirtier than before. Papers were scattered across his desk and a few coffee cups that escaped the trash. Ever since you had come together, it was obvious he wasn't getting as much work done, and that that was frustrating him. 

You also noticed the three framed photos near his main computer. One of him and the other members all wearing leis and posing in what you assumed as a Hawaiian airport. The other was of you presumed his family; his parents and what looked like an older brother. Yoongi was still a teenager in the picture and you couldn't help, but smile at how awkwardly adorable he looked with hair that stuck up and a face that wasn't quite adult yet. The third photo was that of a brown poodle puppy. 

You glanced down at the desk and noticed a photo peeking out from underneath a handful of papers. You pushed it aside and gasped when you saw that it was actually a print off of an email with a photo attachment. A photo of you and Yoongi from the alleyway. His arms around you and his mask down beneath his chin. From the angle, it looked as if he were kissing your forehead and you sighed, knowing Yoongi would probably not do such a thing in public, even if your relationship was completely real and straightforward. 

You noticed the email address came from the presumed photographer and your chest tied in knots as you hoped that meant Yoongi was trying to prevent the photo from being released. You heard the code being punched in and quickly shuffled the email back under papers and picked up the picture of Yoongi and his family and pretended to study it intensely. 

"Hey," he said, holding two mugs, making you curious as to how he opened the door in the first place. His eyes widened slightly when he saw you holding the framed photo. 

"Sorry," you said, placing the photo back on his desk. "Your family looks nice." 

Yoongi smiled. "They really want to meet you," he said. He handed you the hot mug of tea. "I didn't want to pressure you, especially since we're trying to sever this." 

"My parents have been the same," you said. "They're so happy about this whole soulmate thing. They didn't even care that you were an idol." 

"My parents were happy you were normal." 

You laughed. "Are we watching a movie?"

"Yeah," Yoongi said. "I have a couple things to finish up first if you don't mind. You can pick something while you wait, it should only be a few minutes." 

You nodded and started scrolling through Netflix on his laptop. You scrolled through the various offerings, unsure of Yoongi's preferences. Would it be inappropriate to watch something romance heavy? Would it make him uncomfortable? 

Yoongi seemed like the type of guy to like a classic gangster movie, but that wasn't something you were into. Although, you were fairly certain neither of you were huge fans of horror.

You eventually settled on a movie somewhere in the middle with a smattering of everything. A little action and a little romance, but not so unbearably cheesy that you wouldn't enjoy it. 

When you glanced up at Yoongi, he was seated at his desktop with headphones perched atop his gray hair. His head bounced slowly to a beat you couldn't hear and you could see bits of sounds and recordings that he was arranging on his screen. 

You took a sip of your tea and waited.

---

"Thanks for meeting up with me on such short notice," you said, adjusting the laptop screen so that there wasn't a glare on your face. "My schedule changed and I'm going to be out of the city for the next week." 

"It's not a problem," Jinwoo said, smiling, a pen in his hand and just the corner of his notebook visible. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you going?" 

"Japan," you said, not thinking much of your answer.

"Oh wait," Jinwoo said. "Jang Sumi? I think I saw you on a magazine cover? With Min Yoongi?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," you said. "That's me." 

"So, you're his soulmate? How does that work?" 

"I don't really want to talk about this right now," you said. "Unless you can do it in English." You tried to lighten the mood, tried to make it sound like the fact your client knew what was happening in your personal life didn't make a rock sink low in your stomach.

Jinwoo laughed. "It's okay, I understand. I imagine it's hard having to uproot your life just because of your biological soulmate or whatever." 

You smiled, his flippant tone catching you off guard. "It would really help if he wasn't so busy. I can't blame the guy, he has a fantastic career, but it's hard on me." 

"You're still wearing his pajamas though."

"What?" 

"Shooky," he said. "Suga created that character." 

"Oh," you said. "He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something." 

"Or, he likes you more than he lets on."

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Your lips tightened when you finished the sentence. You'd only talked to Jinwoo once before and your heart pounded as you realized what you'd just said. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to." 

"It's all right," he said. "I like to think we're friends, so it's okay."

---

Yoongi realized you were gone after almost two hours. He took off his headphones and glanced down at his watch and cursed. 

If it weren't for the crumpled blankets on the couch, he'd never know you'd ever been there. He knew he'd let you down, it was a simple movie, two hours at the most. He couldn't even spare two hours for you?

He exited his studio and headed down the hallway towards your room. He could hear your laugh, which made him smile. Thankful the hallway was abandoned, lest his smile due to your presence be discovered, he pressed his shoulder against your door frame. Your door was cracked and he could see you seated at your desk. He raised his hand to knock lightly on your door when he caught a look at your computer screen. 

It was another boy. He was young and Yoongi didn't like the way his eyes seemed to devour you, even through the screen. 

"He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something." You looked down at the pajamas you had on and ran your thumb over the collar.

He couldn't hear the boy's response, but your eyes widened and your shoulders tensed. 

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Yoongi balled his fists. You were being reckless. It was obvious that you were uncomfortable with all the media attention, but you were doing nothing to help yourself. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to."  

Yoongi left your doorway and rambled back down the hallway.

---

"Hey Jiminie, can you pass me the other end?" 

Jimin sat on the opposite of the couch in the living room. He was in the middle of slurping up noodles, but quickly put down his bowl and chopsticks to hand you the end of the scarf. 

"Jiminie? I'm older than you, right?"

"Oh, I guess you are," you said. "But, you're so cute, it's easy to forget. You don't mind, do you?" A smirk broke out on your lips. 

"No, I like it actually." 

Jimin had just picked up his bowl of ramen when Yoongi came into the room. You could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. 

"Sumi," he said. "We need to talk?"

You looked up at him, your eyes large and confused. "About what?" 

Jimin had taken an interest, obviously noticing the older boy's anger. He sat down his ramen and scooted closer to you. "Yoongi, what's wrong?"

Jimin's question only annoyed him more. His body stiffened and his eyes looked nearly black. 

"What's wrong? She's so worried about her image and all the publicity, but yet is telling one of her clients all about us."

"Were you spying on me?"

"I came looking for you after--"

You looked up at him, your arms crossed. "I never would've left if--"

"That's not the point!" Yoongi's voice raised slightly. Although, he wasn't yelling. He didn't seem like to yell when he got angry, rather he sizzled in the heat until he popped like a popcorn kernel. "You can't just tell someone like him! You have no idea who this guy is! What if he goes to the press? We'd have another Minki on our hands! Are you stupid?"

Tears pricked at your vision and you felt Jimin's hand on your wrist, but it left as soon as you moved to rub your eyes. 

"Yoongi, calm down. She's not used to all this. She just made a mistake." 

"I didn't go on that date to watch you work, Yoongi. I'm sorry if I got frustrated and vented to someone who listened. But, this never would've happened if you would've just watched the movie. We were supposed to get to know each other." 

"I guess you know who I am now." 

---

"I'm sorry, Sumi," Jimin said, following you into your room and plopping beside you on your bed. "Yoongi sometimes gets like this. I promise he'll get over it in a couple days." 

"I really don't want to go to Japan, Jimin. I don't want to be around him." Your face fell into your hands. "But, I have to." 

"Shh, Sumi. It'll be okay. Just try to get some sleep. I'll stay with you if you want." 

You shook your head. "No," you said. "Thank you though. It just doesn't feel right." 

He nodded, seeming to understand and left you alone. 

You laid down and pulled the covers to your chin. You hated to turn Jimin away. The last thing you wanted was to be alone, but ever since that night with Yoongi, only his arms made you feel safe. 

You silently cursed and pulled Kitty to your chest.

---

Jimin shut your door quietly and shook his head. He hated to see you and Yoongi fight. From the day he met you, he could tell there something odd about your dynamic. The quiet understanding of each other, but yet the fierce opposition.

He passed by Yoongi's studio, the light on. Jimin knew Yoongi would probably spend the rest of the night there, not wanting to step foot in the hallway due to the fear of facing you again. 

Jimin smiled as he remembered your ragged stuffed cat. He'd done just as you had asked and placed Kitty in the donation pile. It was only later when making another trek into the living room to place more into boxes that he noticed Yoongi slipping the stuffed cat into his bag. 

He hadn't said anything then, but the morning you asked him if he was the one who'd saved the hapless creature, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the true savior who hid his smile behind sips of morning coffee.

[shhh-no-ones-home]

model citizen ricky horror x reader

+++++++++

college au

prompt: Character A sitting in a college 7am lecture and Character B sitting next to them pouring an energy drink into their coffee and says, "I'm going to die." (First interaction)

Song: pretty little distance by as it is

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @theoneandonlykymberlee @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @xyours-eternallyx

+++++++++

i walked into the room and huffed as i took my seat, reaching into my bag for my notebook and a pen. i hated having a 9am again and missed being able to sleep-in like i did last semester. this was the first day though and i was hopeful my mind would change about it as the course went on. it probably wouldnt though. i sat there, catching a few more students walk in as i looked down at my phone.

nothing was too exciting yet and the teacher hadnt even shown up. i was more-so ready for the new art class though. it was my major after all and i was pretty well known by the professors at this point. as i sat there, a loud clatter grabbed my attention, making me look to my right. there was sat a shorter, skinny kid, with long inky black hair tucked under a beanie. my eyes went wide as he cracked the monster in his hand open, pouring it into his half=full trenta cup from Starbucks. he looked over at me and smiled.

"im going to die."

he said in the most sure-fire tone before putting the lid back on the cup and chugging it. i sat there in horror staring at him.

"are you okay?"

i asked and he shrugged, looking at me over the top of the cup. he had the bluest eyes i had ever seen, even in the low light of the art room. i was a little start struck for a second before shaking myself out of my daze, watching him put the cup down against the desk with a thud.

"if i pass out during class just push me out of the way and ill figure something out later."

he said, turning forward. i went to say something just as the teacher walked in.

"y/n! good to see you back. we missed you last semester."

professor crane said, looking to the student teacher as he ducked behind him and paced quickly to the front desk. his gaze followed him too before he shrugged and turned back to me with a smile.

"whatever, im sure he missed you too. but either way its good to have you back in class and i look forward to seeing what you come up with for the showcase in march."

i nodded with a smile before he walked away to the front of the class, instructing everyone to take their seats.

"you come here often?"

i heard from the kid next to me, hearing him laugh to himself as he took another drink of his coffee/monster concoction.

"yes, actually. im an art major."

i said a little dumbfounded. he nodded.

"cool, im here for film."

i drew my brows.

"youre doing film?"

i asked and he winked at me, looking to Brian as he turned the projector on. i opened my mouth before closing it quickly, feeling a little more confused than before.

"alright, first things first. i only make a syllabus because administration says i have to. the schedule is shit and we will most likely be doing something completely different so i suggest you keep a planner or something to keep track of your assignments. secondly, i will get to it later but i want you to start thinking about your projects for the spring showcase in march. we have a few short months so after you learn the basics of form you will be instructed to sketch something in your own style and present it to the board."

my mind went in and out after that, trying to catch quick glances at the kid next to me without being suspicious. every time he moved i could feel my heart pulse, giving me anxiety that he could actually pass out or something.

"y/n, your partner for this project will be mr olson."

brian said, standing over me and looking between the two of us. i nodded with wide eyes as he moved to the two kids behind us.

"guess that means we have pretty high chances at getting an A."

he said, raising his cup in cheers. i looked down at the assignment sheet, grazing over it and groaning. we had to come up with a comic strip in different style parts; the first panel a base sketch, the second panel a hard sketch, the third panel color blocking, and so on. god this was gonna be a nightmare.

"you dont seem too enthused."

the kid said amused. i sent him a testing look.

"im not, ive done something similar before and you have to get every step just right or they take points off. and we have to prove what parts we did."

i said, rolling my eyes. i looked over to him, blinking as a camera flash went off. i drew my brows as he looked down at the screen on it.

"where did you even get that?"

i asked, trying to inspect him. he sent me a smile.

"i always keep it on me. im ricky by the way, and you look great."

he said amused and i breathed deeply.

"y/n."

i said, looking back to the paper.

"well y/n i think this is going to be a great partnership-"

"alright!"

brian called, cutting him off.

"you have your assignments. i have nothing else for you today so you are welcome to either stay here and work until class time is over or you can leave and work on it on your own time. i dont really care either way, just get it done."

i hummed to myself before stuffing my notebook and the assignment sheet into my bag and standing up. i caught a glimpse of ricky starting at me with wide eyes as i turned to leave.

"what are you doing?"

he asked and i looked between him and the door, pointing at it.

"leaving, its not due for another week."

i started off, hearing him shuffle around before chasing after me.

"hey wait! cant we like plan what we're doing or something?"

he asked and i shrugged, looking over to him as he tried to put his paper in his backpack and hold the camera and cup of coffee. i stopped, staring at him as he struggled. i rolled my eyes, taking the cup and the camera from him. he looked to me in shock and i raised my brows.

"get to it, i dont have all day."

i said and he finished what he was doing, zipping his bag up and slinging it over it shoulder. i handed him the cup and camera back and kept walking.

"so uh, what kind of thing did you have in mind for this project?"

he asked and i looked to the sky, squinting but trying to think as we made it outside.

"i dont know, maybe a ball of some kind?"

he raised a brow, shuffling his feet as he tried to keep up with my long strides.

"like masks and large dresses?"

he asked and i nodded, opening the door to dinging hall.

"something like that yeah."

he nodded as i led us to a table.

"that sounds cool, i could get behind that."

i sent him a knowing look.

"you seem like the kind of guy who would."

i said, pulling my sketchpad out. he raised a brow, sitting beside me.

"whats that supposed to mean?"

he asked and i sent him  a look.

"im assuming you like vampires, and the Edwardian thing usually goes hand in hand with that."

he sent me a nervous smile.

"is it that obvious?"

he asked, rubbing his hands against his pants. i nodded.

"thats okay though, cause i like them too. so much so that i have costumes already, we can pose for each other. i think youd look great in this."

i said, sliding my phone across the table to show him the outfit i had for it. i just hoped it would fit him.

"you seem like youve been planning this for a while."

he said through a laugh and i shrugged.

"i just like to feel fancy, the projects on the other hand kind of fall into my lap."

i said, flipping through a few pages in my book. he placed his hand on one before taking it from me and looking over it.

"this looks insane."

he said and i looked around awkwardly.

"in a good way?"

i asked, finding his gaze.

"oh! yeah! of course in a good way. it looks super cool. i see why you wanted to do the ball thing now."

he commented, noting the sketch i had done already that was similar. it is what i was used to after all. he set the book back down in front of me and sent me a wide smile, picking his camera up and taking another picture of me.

"why do you do that?"

i asked and he laughed.

"i need models for my art and i think now that we've met you would be a great subject."

i set him a look, trying to hide the blush creeping its way up my neck.

"you really think so?"

i asked bashfully and he nodded.

"oh yeah, absolutely. and now that we're partners i think it will give me ample opportunity to find a new muse. you wanna be a subject for a music video?"

i sat back, a little taken aback.

"you want me to do what?"

i asked and he laughed, putting the camera on the table.

"in about a month my band is gonna need some girls for a video but its cool if not. i can live with us just being art project partners."

i cleared my throat, rubbing my hands together under the table.

"how about we get through this first and ill get back to you on that?"

he smiled knowingly at me, raising his coffee to me in cheers.

"sounds like a plan to me."

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Business (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

Warnings: angst, smut

Rating: Mature

Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

Just like I promised, I'm posting the third chapter of the story 😄 I'll do my best to post the rest of the fic in the future. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't mind that it’s so long 😂💖

~ 2900 words

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Chapter 3

"Let me go!"

Despite all the power put into the scream, words had been stolen by the infinity of the forest. The only sounds echoing in the darkness were the drumming of hooves and loud breaths coming out from both: rider and his horse.

Just when the man thought that he managed to escape the jaws of death, some impossibly strong creature knocked him off from the saddle. His body flew in the air before hitting the ground, breaking bones.

The young, chestnut stallion stopped galloping as soon as he sensed the lack of weight of his owner on the saddle. This well-trained creature turned around, ready to stand by the side of the man that groomed him since he was only a foal.

But at the time he got closer to the owner, something emerged from the shadows, sneaking up toward them. The horse's ears went wild, moving in different directions. He lifted his head high, getting a better perception of the surroundings as all of his muscles tensed, ready to react.

That's when a harsh red light flashed in the middle of the road in front of them. Despite all the previous courage, the presence of an unusual for the horse predator awoke his instincts.

Instincts that were saying to run away as fast as possible.

The dust picked up around the wounded man, and all he was able to hear was the neighing of the stallion. The sound was slowly fading away, deeper into the embrace of the forest.

"Seems that not even a horse is willing to help you," a feminine, harsh voice came straight from the direction of the crimson light. "I got the order. You must know how these work."

He was her target, a prey to hunt down for her master, her creator.

She had been said to look for the leader of the village in this part of the land. There was a prophecy saying about the downfall of vampires. It pointed at this specific person becoming the cause of it one day.

Her master wanted to take care of it in advance. To make sure that vampires will remain at the end of the food chain for much longer.

So there she was, just doing her part of the job.

"My wife..." the man managed to speak, being interrupted by his own blood, making him choke. "My wife is pregnant, I need to be there..." another spit of blood, "...for her and my child."

The vampire approached the begging man. Just to kneel down, so she would be able to look directly in his eyes. To see his fear and unsureness about the future of his family.

"Oh..." a seemingly sympathetic tone escaped her mouth.

Just to be followed by the dagger aimed straight in his heart.

"...but you will not."

***

Hesitation hit Amy along with the cold air of the evening right after she got out of her car.

Words said during the meeting echoed inside her mind, filling the space with doubt. She was well aware that her attitude during the gathering might have caused the end of this collaboration before it even started. That she might have just ruined the deal on which depended a lot.

Only because her pride had to win... once again.

It was the hour of her meeting with Kamilah. To her surprise, the place that she sent her to wasn't the building of Ahmanet Financial by itself. Instead, she got the address to one of the fanciest neighborhoods in New York.

Amy drove there on her own without bodyguards. She didn't let her parents know about any of what happened so far. In that case, she needed to deal with the situation on her own, praying that she would have only good news to share with them later.

Full of hope, she stepped into the elevator typing the guests' code that Ms. Sayeed sent her earlier that day.

"Now, try to fix it, Amy," she mumbled quietly.

***

The elevator stopped, and doors opened with a loud click sound.

Did she invite me to her penthouse? Amy asked herself in thoughts, stepping inside unsurely, slowly taking in the picture before her eyes.

Her steps were quiet. After walking through a short corridor, she found herself in a spacious living room with a view of the dining table and the open kitchen.

But there was no sign of the apartment owner.

With typical for her curiosity, she looked over the place. The girl was educated in interior design enough to admire a modernly stylized space. The colors around her were outweighed by black, light grey white on the walls and dark, deep browns of the furniture. Here and there, she noticed some accessories in the faint shade of lavender. Everything created a well-balanced contrast, pleasing to the eye.

After a while of waiting, Amy couldn't hold herself any longer, and she slowly approached the dresser that caught her eye from the start. What especially got her attention was an old photograph of the CEO of Ahmanet Financial and some strangers posing in the picture, all smiling. She assumed that the photo showed Kamilah in the company of friends.

But the only person she recognized from it was Adrian. He looked exactly the same as when she met him for the first time. The only difference was visible in his clothes. Everyone in the picture seemed to wear garments that had been taken straight from a different era.

Was it taken during some kind of costume party? Or maybe just a long time ago, but... how long? The girl put her purse aside to place one of her fingers on the picture, tracing over its surface, lost in thoughts.

"I can see you're the nosey one," a deep whisper made her jump in surprise.

Amy turned around quickly, almost knocking the picture by doing so. Just to face a smirking Kamilah Sayeed standing right there with her arms crossed. The girl's heartbeat increased from sudden shock, making her attempt to compose herself fail badly.

"Oh," Amy felt her cheeks reddening without permission, "I thought you were in a bathroom, or..." she was making excuses, but it got her thinking.

Why didn't she notice the woman sooner?

"I was watching you," Kamilah answered like she was reading her mind just by staring intensively at the girl. "Let me invite you to my office."

After a moment of hesitation, Amy decided to leave her concerns for some other time. So she followed this tall, mysterious woman, getting further into the apartment.

She found herself amazed by how different this room was decorated in comparison to the rest of them. It was way more cozy and old fashioned there between these four walls decorated with ancient artifacts.

"I'm surprised to see you alone," Kamilah stood behind the desk, inviting Amy to take a seat in front of her with a hand gesture.

Documents had been already arranged, waiting for her to read them. But suddenly, Amy lost her previous boldness. Out of nowhere, she felt intimidated by the presence of this absolutely beautiful woman.

"I'm not always surrounded by them," the girl tried to focus on the files as the following words slipped out of her mouth without her knowledge, "I'm a grown-up."

Kamilah smirked slightly at this but did not make a comment. Instead, she sat down and let Amy read the new contract that she had prepared for her.

***

Finally, Amy picked up a pen after she read the whole deal several times to make sure she understood everything clearly. She signed it and put the pen aside, having a hard time looking at Kamilah's face.

"Could you stop?" Amy whispered with unusual shyness in her voice.

"Excuse me?" Kamilah's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she didn't take her eyes off the girl.

"You were staring this whole time," Amy did her best to not drop her gaze. "And you're still doing this," she blushed uncontrollably, making the woman smirk with satisfaction.

Kamilah's shoulders lifted and fell with a short yet deep breath. She reached for the documents just to put them on her side of the desk, giving the girl a short break from her stare.

Just to intimidate her with it again a second after.

"Dear...Amy," she started with a pause. "Is that how you'd like to be addressed?"

"It's up to you, Miss Sayeed," thoughts screamed inside the girl's head, judging her for the lack of courage.

"Kamilah," the woman corrected her before continuing. "I was wondering... Your family tree is a truly generous one."

The girl stayed silent, waiting for the rest, but Kamilah clearly expected her reaction.

"It... certainly is," unsureness grew in her chest.

"For centuries, every single newborn in Paines family," Kamilah leaned back on the chair. She twirled her hair around one of her slim fingers, "was a boy, am I right?"

Amy's body stiffened slightly, but she forced herself to nod calmly in response. But her mind worked faster from then on. She started paying more attention to the topic of their conversation. Because they were touching some delicate matters.

Dangerous matters.

"You are very well protected by your family," Kamilah was circling around the subject mercilessly. "Your parents trust you with their business," she tilted her head slightly to the side. "That must mean you are fully informed in the type of clients they are working with."

Oh my god, I am so stupid, Amy cursed herself.

At that same time, her right hand slowly traveled up her thigh. Her dress was designed with a little pocket on the side. Big enough to hide there a small object without arousing suspicion.

In this situation, even such a small wooden stake was good enough for self-defense.

"And yet, you're here." Kamilah squinted her eyes, letting the whisper to escape her lips. "All alone."

It was too much.

Amy stood up, ready to run, but she wasn't fast enough.

The girl wasn't a fool. She knew too well that she could never be faster than any of them. But it was the last chance left for her.

And it still failed.

In a split of a second, she was pushed against the wall with her hands firmly held down her sides. Making it unable to escape even if she dared to put up a fight.

Kamilah's shining eyes moved from the girl's eyes to her lips, following the path of the vein pulsing on her neck. Corners of her lips curled up as she looked down at Amy's right hand. Her fingers moved along.

"And what, care to tell," she ripped the stick out of Amy's grip, "were you planning to do with this?" Kamilah threw the weapon away, filling the room with the hollow sound of the wood hitting the floor.

"I..." Amy tried to calm down her breathing. "I know what you are."

It made the woman close the distance between them even more, their bodies almost touching.

"Enlighten me," Kamilah opened her mouth a little, letting her tongue run over her sharp teeth.

Amy swallowed hard at the view, trying to get her body under control, without success.

Finally, she managed to look into the woman's eyes, noticing a spark of crimson in them.

"You're a monster," words escaped her lips without hesitation.

Kamilah's eyes changed to red in a flash as a performance of power.

But to her surprise, the view didn't make an impression on Amy.

Actually, it caused quite the opposite reaction. The closeness of Kamilah's body suddenly changed from threatening to intimate, spreading heat inside the girl.

The woman leaned down since she was a little bit taller, bringing her lips closer to Amy's ear.

Close enough to let her hear the whisper.

"Are you afraid?" her breath teased sensitive skin on Amy's neck.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, knowing how bad this situation was for her. Knowing that the anticipation created inside her was easily perceptible for the woman standing just an inch away from her.

That she shouldn't even question her own feelings. She wasn't supposed to react this way around the vampire. Any of them, there was no exception.

At least she thought so until that day.

"I'm not," she almost moaned the answer when Kamilah's hands moved to her waist, eagerly pulling her closer.

Their lips met, letting them taste each other's warmth.

Kamilah teased her, fastening and deepening the dance of her tongue, just to slow down soon after. To step back, waiting for Amy to follow.

The girl climbed on her toes, wanting Kamilah's lips closer, wanting to feel the ecstasy of this feeling forever. She attempted to touch the woman's face after freeing one of her hands. Just to find herself being turned around with an impossible power in response. She waited patiently this time, pressed against the wall with hands behind her back.

"I want to hear you moan," Kamilah whispered into her ear, thrusting from behind.

Amy's dress raised up dangerously, showing her legs, giving access to her skin. Kamilah let go of her hands, and instead, wandered her fingertips all over the girl's exposed thighs, making her writhe under this touch. Making her place both hands on the wall in an attempt to steady herself.

She was breathing heavily, indeed. But that was not what Kamilah expected from her.

And she wanted to make it clear only one more time.

"I said something," her voice sounded a little harsher than before.

Kamilah's hand moved on the inside of Amy's thigh, squeezing. While the other one came impossibly close to the girl's underwear, which was already soaked more than she suspected it to be.

At that point, Amy couldn't hold it anymore, didn't really try either. She moaned through her gritted teeth, moving her hips to feel the woman's fingers more.

"That's a good girl," Kamilah smirked, leaning down to move her tongue on Amy's earlobe.

From there, she moved lower, placing kisses on her nape, moving her blonde hair away from her skin. As she made sure to leave hickeys on her neck, her fingers were teasingly playing with the material of the lingerie. Amy's moans became more urging, revealing her growing impatience.

Desire to finally feel it.

Her aching for the touch.

"You have no clue how much it takes from me," Kamilah muttered into her skin, "to not devour you right now."

These last words were like a dash of cold water that Amy needed at that moment.

She tensed immediately, causing Kamilah to stop touching her. The woman didn't assume to misunderstand her signs earlier, but obviously, something made the girl change her mind.

Amy freed herself from Kamilah's grip, pulling the dress down with shaking hands, trying to cover her exposed skin. To cover thighs that she wanted to have touched so badly only a moment ago.

"I should go," she blinked a few times to collect her thoughts.

"Easy, darling," Kamilah was astonished by this unexpected shift. "I assure you, I won't bite," her appearance showed unusual for her concern.

But Amy was already moving back, making her steps to the way out.

She felt so stupid.

So reckless.

"I..." she couldn't find the right words.

So she chose to say nothing, walking out of the room in a hurry. Vanishing like a scared teenager.

Leaving the woman in her office completely alone.

"That was... unexpected," Kamilah said out loud, pouring herself a glass of gin.

***

A piercing scream signaled her destination.

The well-known scent of blood teased her nostrils, leading toward the source.

After barely a moment, she found herself standing between the buildings of the village, looking at the scene through the window from afar. She heard the faint heartbeat of the woman in labor, growing weaker with every passing second.

"There's no point in saving her, fools," the vampire muttered to herself, ready to turn around.

But something inside her broke.

The feeling remained for barely one short second, obligating her to save this family. Like she owed it to the man that she left behind in the forest.

Without thinking any longer, she used her vampire speed to get inside the building.

To move among people gathered around her target as if she was a ghost. A nothingness that left behind only a gust of wind that was immediately blamed on the open window.

She moved quickly enough to cut her wrist with one of her fangs, letting a few drops of it leak inside a bottle placed on the desk. Poisoning the purity of the water with a deep shade of red.

Just to disappear soon after into the darkness like the shadow that should have never left it.

The vampire ran fast, distancing herself from the place before she could feel the regret inside her chest. Repressing the disappointment in herself because she just broke the most important rule that all of them had sworn to obey.

Humans should never, under any circumstances, feed on vampires' blood.

Maybe if she stayed there a little bit longer, she would know that her efforts were in vain. Despite all the power her blood contained, it was not enough to save the woman. Her heart was too weak to survive the labor.

It stopped beating, just to leave the village and the forest around it with the burden of silence.

But at that moment, the peace of the night was disturbed one last time with a sound of hope.

Weeping of a newborn.

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Next chapter: 4

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tag list: @evexofxtime  @kamilah-is-queen @ariaminsinclair @helpconfusedpersonhere @ayushixo @nydeiri @vonda-b-real

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 15

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 4,006 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Ikkaku, Jean Bart, Clione, Monkey D. Luffy Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Bepo started when the door at the top of the dungeon stairs banged open and was followed by an ugly thumping sound that made his ears twitch. After a moment, he placed the sound as that of a body being dragged down the stairs. His eyes widened in alarm. Had one of the others been caught?

Or—

“What—” Penguin started from the cell next to Bepo, but he fell silent just as Bepo’s stomach dropped.

A familiar pair of spotted jeans was dragged past Bepo’s cell door and into the cell across from his and next to Shachi’s. The dungeon was dimly lit by torches, and even Bepo’s mink vision couldn’t make out much as Trebol and Diamante dragged a limp form into the cell. There was a rattling of shackles before the two executives exited the cell with some choice words for the prisoner before slamming the door shut. They thumped up the stairs, and, a few moments later, the door banged shut. The dungeon was quiet once again.

Bepo could hear a light rustling coming from the newly occupied cell, so he called hesitantly, “Captain?”

“Bepo,” Law’s familiar voice rasped out after a painfully long moment.

Bepo swallowed, relief at war with worry in his chest. The last he’d heard from Law was two days earlier when he’d called in from his mission with a warning that Vergo had followed him. The crew had gone into high alert, but there had been no further news from their captain. They’d all heard he’d returned to Dressrosa earlier today—and Bepo had been admittedly disappointed Law hadn’t immediately come to see them, though he had been relieved to find the note Law had left on his desk—but all the Hearts had known was that Law was in some kind of trouble, which, by extension, put them in danger. They’d expected to find out what was going on when Law came to see them after dinner, but that was before…

Bepo swallowed, cutting off his own thought and turning his attention back to Law.

“Are you okay, Captain?” he asked. If Law was being forcibly dragged into the dungeon, he must have been overcome by Trebol and Diamante—and was now undoubtedly shackled with Seastone, considering the danger his Fruit posed.

“I’m…” Law started but trailed off as though he didn’t quite know how to respond. After a moment, Bepo heard him clear his throat before asking, “What happened?”

“Shouldn’t we be asking you that, Captain?”

“Penguin,” Law breathed worriedly. “Who else is in here?”

“Me.”

“Shachi. Anyone else?”

“We were the only ones captured,” Bepo said.

A brief hesitation then, “Where is everyone else?”

“Escaped,” Shachi said.

Law let out a relieved breath as Bepo belatedly realized Law had probably taken his words to mean the others had been killed. He tamped down on the urge to apologize, instead rubbing his face through his paws in embarrassment, glad none of his lesser mink friends could see him in the dimness.

“What’s going on, Law?” Penguin pressed. “We haven’t heard from you since you called Bepo, and then we’re being thrown in the dungeon.”

Law’s cell was silent for several moments, and Bepo wished he could make out more than the outline of Law’s shape across from him. Finally, Law said, “I’ll tell you everything. Just… First, I need to know. What happened here?”

He sounded more tired than Bepo had heard him in a long time, and it was that, more than anything, that caused Bepo to take pity on his best friend. “After reading your note, I got word to the others to meet up after dinner,” he explained. “We were gathering in the common area when…” Bepo swallowed.

“Pica and Machvise showed up,” Penguin picked up as Bepo faltered. Law cursed quietly. “They said Doflamingo wanted to see us.”

“After your call, we knew something was up,” Shachi added. “Other executives don’t just come to our wing of the palace.”

“So, we told them his royal featherness could come to us,” Penguin said, the smirk evident in his voice.

“They didn’t like that,” Shachi added.

“Idiots,” Law said, fond despite himself.

“They attacked then,” Bepo said, remembering the uncanny feeling of the world shaking as Pica had merged with the walls. It had reminded him of Zunesha’s daily showers for the briefest of moments before it had turned into a horror show. “Penguin, Shachi, and I tried to hold them off while the others got away.”

“Jean Bart wanted to stay behind,” Shachi said. “But we told him to take the others and get out.”

“We fought them off as long as we could,” Bepo said quietly, grimacing as he shifted. Even with his fortified mink body, he was still sporting bruises and probably some cracked ribs. Shachi and Penguin weren’t any better, fragile humans that they were.

They’d fought with everything they had—which was quite a bit, since, as the crew of Doflamingo’s second, there were high expectations of their capabilities—but none of them were Devil Fruit users, so they’d been taken down eventually. Neither Pica nor Machvise had been particularly gentle with their capture and imprisonment.

Bepo still hoped they’d done their captain proud.

“They must have all gotten out because we haven’t seen anyone but you,” Penguin said. “Hopefully, they’ve gone to ground.”

Doflamingo had eyes all over the city, but the Hearts had been in Dressrosa long enough to know it like the back of their own hands—or paws—in their own right; they’d made connections and were owed favors they could now call in.

“Good.”

“So, are you going to tell us what happened out there?” Shachi asked when it was clear Law wasn’t going to say anything else.

“Okay,” Law said at length. His shackles clanked as he shifted, and he let out a breath. “Doflamingo sent me to Punk Hazard to take out some intruders. It should have been a quick in and out.”

Bepo remembered meeting Law at the palace gates before he’d left, Law deflecting their attempts at joining him by claiming the mission was easy—the type he’d done countless times before with no complication. Briefly, Bepo felt a wave of frustration flow under his skin; if Law had taken them with him on this mission, maybe whatever had happened with Vergo wouldn’t have. They could have helped.

But that surge was as gone as quickly as it had arrived. What good did it do to worry about the past now? Plus, Law was opening up to them again, something he hadn’t done in two years.

“What went wrong?” Shachi asked quietly.

Law snorted, a hollow sound that made Bepo’s hackles raise. “Everything.”

“Captain?” Bepo prompted when Law fell silent once more. Law got like this sometimes, stuck in his own head as he turned his thoughts over endlessly, creating a spiral it sometimes took days to pull him from.

“There were two groups of intruders,” Law finally said. “Smoker was leading a group of hapless Marines from G-5.”

“And the other group?” Penguin asked. They all knew a group of Marines, even led by a vice admiral like Smoker, shouldn’t pose much of a threat to Law.

“Straw Hat-ya and his merry band of misfits.”

Bepo’s eyes widened. The Straw Hats were active again? And Law had been sent to kill the very person he’d risked everything to save two years earlier?

Of course he had. That was absolutely something Doflamingo would revel in. Law had taken a major risk by defying Doflamingo when he’d saved Straw Hat Luffy, and Shachi had lost his arm in the aftermath, causing Law to shut down completely in his guilt. Doflamingo would love pushing Law to see how he’d react to such an order after everything he and the Hearts had sacrificed in the wake of Marineford. The idea of rendering those sacrifices moot would amuse the bastard to no end. And to erase the living reminder of Law’s rebellion would only further cement his hold over his second.

If Law had gone through with it, Bepo could only wonder at what version of his friend would have returned from Punk Hazard.

“Captain,” Bepo said, nearly whining in a show of sympathy. He wished he could see his friend’s face, could offer more than just words of comfort.

With a heavy exhale, Law told them about fighting but losing when Smoker and the Straw Hats joined forces and being taken captive by the Straw Hats. Something warmed in Bepo’s chest as Law haltingly, disbelievingly, described Luffy’s unwavering determination that Law was a good person for no other reason than he felt it.

Something Law hadn’t understood had pushed him to save the boy that day—something Bepo, as a mink, considered a sign from the Earth herself, though he knew Law, man of science that he was, didn’t agree—and perhaps Luffy was similarly driven toward their captain. Bepo knew what it felt like to be drawn to Law, so nothing about the situation surprised him.

There were things even science couldn’t explain, after all.

That warmth in Bepo’s chest turned cold as Law described Vergo’s arrival on the Straw Hats’ ship with a fake accusation of Law’s treachery. So, that was what Law had meant by Vergo turning on him.

“What?!” Penguin demanded as Law continued speaking about the Straw Hats, clearly unable to believe what he’d just heard.

Law sighed and repeated himself. “We agreed to work together.”

“Like an alliance?” Shachi asked, tone rising slightly in disbelief. Bepo couldn’t blame him; Law didn’t typically play well with others, especially in his position as Corazon.

“I suppose,” Law allowed. Bepo knew by the tone of his voice that, had his hands been free, Law would have scrubbed a hand over his face—a frustrated gesture Bepo had seen countless times over the years. “I didn’t have much choice in the moment but to accept the help.”

“But Captain,” Bepo interrupted, “that’s great!”

After Law had saved Straw Hat Luffy for no other reason than a feeling, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin had done some digging into the Straw Hat pirates and been astonished by the string of miracles they’d left in their wake, from Alabasta to Enies Lobby. If there was anyone the Hearts could want on their side in a confrontation with Doflamingo, it was a crew like that.

“Great?” Penguin echoed.

“It means we aren’t alone,” Bepo said, hope rising in his chest.

After Law had called with his warning about Vergo, Bepo couldn’t help but run the worst-case scenarios over and over in his mind, with Law not returning from his mission at the forefront. But when his captain had returned, those scenarios had turned into the crew facing Doflamingo’s wrath alone, perhaps even being forced to hurt and kill one another. Those scenarios had not seemed far-fetched once Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin had been locked in irons and thrown into separate cells in the dungeon. And when Law himself had arrived as a captive…

Well, having allies seemed a lot better than the alternative.

“What happened with Vergo?” Shachi asked, interrupting Bepo’s reverie.

“He’s dead,” Law said flatly.

“Good,” Bepo said without thinking.

“Bepo?”

Bepo pulled at his snout, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

Penguin snorted. “No, you’re not.”

Bepo blushed. “No, I’m not. It’s good that he’s dead,” he said firmly.

“He was a bastard,” Shachi agreed.

“Fuck that guy,” Penguin added.

Law huffed tiredly. It was small, but Bepo had heard enough of Law’s laughs over the years to know it was genuine. “Right. But he was always Doffy’s favorite.”

“Ah hell,” Shachi muttered.

“Exactly. And Doffy has more spies than just Vergo in the Marines, so at some point today he heard that Vergo was dead and Caesar-ya and Monet were arrested.”

“And that’s when…” Penguin said, trailing off as if he lacked an adequate way to refer to everything happening now.

Law grunted in response.

“Where are the Straw Hats now?” Bepo asked after a moment. Would it be possible for their free crewmates to find their allies and get their help?

“They should be on the Tang,” Law said, his tone implying that where the Straw Hats should be was not necessarily the same as where they actually were. “Waiting for me to check in.” (The irony, of course, was that Law currently wasn’t where he was supposed to be, though Bepo doubted his friend would appreciate him mentioning it, so he just suppressed a laugh.)

“Which you obviously can’t do from the dungeon,” Shachi noted.

“Indeed.”

-----

Ikkaku glanced at Jean Bart and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Jean Bart peered out of the window into the quiet night, clearly looking for any sign of pursuit, before turning back to Ikkaku and Clione. He nodded but put a finger to his lips. The streets might appear quiet, but that did not mean Doflamingo’s spies weren’t still looking for them. Ikkaku and Clione nodded.

Ikkaku turned back toward the storage room, where their hosts were watching them. Mateo, the shopkeeper, and his wife, Isabella, stood in the doorway. She approached them.

“We’ll be leaving now,” Ikkaku whispered, voice only loud enough to carry to them. “Thank you for hiding us.”

“Gladly, Miss Ikkaku. We are forever in your debt,” Mateo replied, voice equally quiet. The citizens of Dressrosa knew full well some walls had ears, after all.

After they’d fled the palace—Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin stupidly (bravely) staying behind to give them a chance—the Hearts had split into smaller groups before going to ground. When considering where to take cover, Ikkaku had decided to call in a favor owed to her by Mateo and Isabella, the owners of a textile shop.

Three years earlier, Ikkaku, who had been on a routine patrol around the city with Iruka, had found their toddler son, Alexander, wandering around the streets, lost and crying. Apparently, there had been a break-in at their shop, and his parents had been seriously injured. The boy had run off during the attack in fear. Ikkaku and Iruka had managed to make enough sense of the boy’s sob-stricken words to wind their way back to the shop, where they found his parents. Using medical care they’d learned from Law, they were able to stabilize them before summoning proper medics, who took them to the hospital.

Meanwhile, they’d gathered the Hearts to investigate, asking questions around the city until they found out who had attacked the shop and bringing them to justice—or Dressrosa’s version of justice, anyway; all three attackers would face the colosseum. Ikkaku had visited Mateo and Isabella in the hospital to tell them the news, and they had claimed they were in Ikkaku and her crew’s debt. Though Ikkaku had waved the debt off then, she took advantage of it now.

She, Jean Bart, and Clione had hid in their storeroom until night had fallen. Once the store closed, they gladly accepted food from Isabella and waited, plotting their next move. They’d decided that in the early hours of the morning, they would head for the Polar Tang when the watch was likely to be paying the least amount of attention. On the Tang, they could wait for the others and figure out what to do now that they were apparently wanted by the king.

That was something else they needed to figure out—what had happened with Law’s mission to cause this? Why were the Hearts—and presumably their captain—public enemy number one?

One problem at a time, Ikkaku reminded herself.

“Stay safe,” she told the shopkeepers.

“We have no worries,” Isabella replied. “After all, we haven’t seen any criminals tonight.” She turned back to the storeroom and grabbed some dark cloth. “Cloaks,” she said, offering them to Ikkaku.

Ikkaku gratefully accepted the proffered items—they’d been wearing light-colored clothing when they’d fled—and saluted before turning back to her crewmates. “Let’s go.”

The trio donned the cloaks then carefully exited the shop and, staying in the shadows, made for the harbor. Jean Bart took point, leaving Ikkaku and Clione in his shadow. As they moved through the quiet streets, the city’s clock rang out two o’clock. The bars would be closing, so they would need to keep an eye out for late-night patrons who might recognize them. There would also be parties going on for hours more in some areas of the city, but they avoided the more populous parts of the city.

As they approached the harbor entrance, Jean Bart paused, raising a hand in warning. Ikkaku and Clione came to a halt just behind him. The larger man nodded toward the watchtower. There was a single light in the small room at the top, meaning there was at least one guard watching over the harbor, as expected.

Ikkaku pointed to herself. She was the smallest so would be the quietest. Clione raised an eyebrow—Are you sure?—and Ikkaku nodded. Jean Bart and Clione stepped aside, and Ikkaku slid past them. She hadn’t been a fighter when she joined Law’s crew, but she was a quick study, and in the intervening years, she liked to think she’d picked up enough to hold her own against any of the others—except her captain, not that she’d admit it to his face. They hadn’t had a chance to grab any weapons when they’d fled from Pica and Machvise back at the palace, but Ikkaku didn’t need her staff to take on some low-level harbor guards.

Light on her feet, she soundlessly climbed the stairs that rounded the watchtower before coming to a stop just outside the door. It was cracked open, and inside, she could see two figures sitting at a table. They seemed to be playing cards. Assessing the situation quickly, Ikkaku knocked on the door then pressed her back against the wall and melted back into the shadows. A moment later, the door opened all the way and a head stuck out of the doorway.

“Hello?” the guard asked, looking around in confusion.

Ikkaku inched further back into the darkness, and the guard stepped out into the night. Ikkaku knocked lightly against the wall behind her, drawing the guard’s attention in her direction, though he couldn’t see her.

“Who’s there?”

The guard stepped toward the noise, and once he was out of sight of the doorway, Ikkaku struck—an elbow to the solar plexus had the man doubled over before he knew what hit him. She swept a foot at his ankles, knocking him off balance, then struck him in the back of the head twice more, once with her elbow and once with her balled hands. He went down in a heap, never making a sound other than a surprised gasp at the first strike.

Ikkaku then turned and rounded the tower, coming to a stop on the other side of the doorway, fading back into the darkness as she waited for the other guard to appear.

“Jax?” the other guard called, stepping out of the doorway after several moments. “What the hell?” he yelped when he saw his fallen friend. He hurried over to the other guard’s side and knelt next to him.

Ikkaku crept up behind him and took him out with two quick blows as he checked his companion’s vitals. She then pulled the limp forms into the watchtower (fine, she could have used Jean Bart or Clione for this part) and shoved them in the small closet, blocking the door handle with a chair.

Satisfied, Ikkaku headed back down the stairs to her crewmates.

“Well?” Clione asked quietly as she sauntered up.

Ikkaku put a hand to her breast. “I’m wounded you’d even ask me that.”

Clione snorted, and Jean Bart shook his head fondly before leading them toward the Polar Tang. Jean Bart kept an eye out as Ikkaku and Clione boarded the Tang before following them up the ladder and across the deck.

“Wait,” Jean Bart said as Clione reached for the door handle.

“What?” Clione asked.

“It sounds like someone is inside.”

“Doflamingo’s?” Clione asked, tensing.

“Or nakama?” Ikkaku suggested. Though there hadn’t been time to set a rendezvous point when they’d run, it would make sense for the crew to meet at the ship.

But the Family would know that as well.

“Only one way to find out,” Jean Bart said, sliding past Clione to take point once more. He opened the door lightly and moved inside with a quietness that belied his size. Clione nodded for Ikkaku to go next, and he followed her inside, lightly shutting the door behind them.

Now that they were inside, Ikkaku could hear the unfamiliar sounds—footsteps, metal clanking, voices she didn’t recognize. Definitely not nakama then. Ikkaku swallowed. Dressrosans, even criminals, would know better than to mess with Corazon’s ship, so it had to be the Family.

“Should we get out?” Clione asked quietly, clearly thinking the same thing.

Ikkaku shook her head. “The Tang is ours,” she said fiercely, a rush of anger flooding through her at the thought. The Tang had brought her from her old, shitty life to the Hearts. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was hers—the people in it were hers—and that was what mattered. “We can’t let them have her too.”

Jean Bart and Clione nodded in response; they understood exactly how she felt.

“So, what do we do?” Clione whispered.

“The noises seem to be coming from the mess,” Jean Bart replied, considering.

The mess had two doors, plus access to the kitchen, and the kitchen had a separate door of its own. That was three doors for three pirates.

“Split up?” she asked. “One of us for each door?”

“Is that a good idea?” Clione replied, looking between her and Jean Bart. Depending on which Family members were in there, spreading their fighting power out might be a big mistake. But at the same time…

“If we leave any doors uncovered, someone could get out and report our location back to the palace,” Jean Bart said. “Ikkaku’s right. We need to block all the exits.”

Clione chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding. “We can’t go in unarmed, though.”

Ikkaku nodded. Taking out two harbor guards barehanded one thing; fighting Donquixote Pirates was another. “Training room?”

Clione nodded. “I’ll go.”’

He disappeared back into the hallways toward the small training room that should have some weapons in storage. The Hearts usually took their favored weapons with them when they returned from missions, but they had additional arms on the ship. Ikkaku and Jean Bart waited, keeping an ear on the voices they didn’t recognize coming from the heart of their ship. The longer she waited, the angrier Ikkaku got at the invasion of her home—of her namaka’s home.

Clione eventually returned, a blade in hand. He handed a set of brass knuckles to Jean Bart and a bo staff to Ikkaku. Ikkaku immediately felt better, more able to defend the Tang, with the familiar weight of the staff in her hands.

“I’ll take the kitchen,” Clione murmured.

“I’ll take the back mess door,” Ikkaku said.

Jean Bart nodded. That left the front mess door for him. “I’ll give you five minutes to get into place. Then we go in together.”

Clione and Ikkaku nodded and turned in opposite directions, heading for their respective doors. Ikkaku found her place by the back door within three minutes, leaving two minutes to wait for Jean Bart’s signal. She could feel her heartrate speeding up as she thought about the impending fight. She took a few calming breaths. This was her home. This was her nakama’s home. She would fight for her home and her nakama.

She was in the middle of a steady exhale when the door in front of her slammed open. She yelped in surprise.

“Sanji, more mea— Huh?”

Ikkaku gaped as she came face to face with Straw Hat Luffy.