#when killer frost comes to play again

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Bared Fangs.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.

Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”

He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”

“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”

“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”

Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.

Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”

His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”

 There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”

“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”

“But, you— you can’t just—”

“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”

You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.

You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—

A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.

It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—

Your realization was delayed, but intense.

Cars.

Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would’ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.

There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”

Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”

“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”

It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.

It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”

His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”

“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”

He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.

Childe wasn’t so sentimental.

His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”

Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.

You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”

You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.

[r0-boat]

Heyy, may I request just a grusha x female (or gender neutral if you’d like) reader smut fic? You can do whatever you want with it, creative freedom’s all yours!

🥺🥺 bestie

Creative freedom?! For me??

Don't mind if do!

Warm me please

Cw: cock warming, temperature play ish, Yandere behavior, toxic behavior, stalking, horror

Yuki-onna!Grusha x Gn!reader

Blankets of snow cover the ground, trees covered in frost, twinkling spears of ice dangle from its delicate branches. Beautiful yet harsh; a silent killer for those who do not know the dangers among the seeming pure white.

The wind carries the snowflakes pelting you in the face. You raise your arm in hopes it would stop the onslaught to no avail. Your body screams for warmth but you will yourself to keep going. With each breath you take, the snowfall laced with deadly cold air chokes you. But you had to keep going.

For the thing that lurks in the snow and the blizzard is coming.

Having just escaped your icy prison, you’re on the run. And your captor is chasing you.

And this winterland is his hunting ground. He knows the snowy mountains like the back of his hand.

Your heart stops as the snow fall begins to pick up into a blizzard. The wind whips the snow so hard it’s very difficult to keep moving.

In the howling wind, you hear a crunch, the sound of snow falling onto the ground.

Don't look behind you.

Don't look behind you.

Don't look behind you!

Your curiosity gets the better of you as you slowly turn your head, taking just a glance behind you.

A figure, a silhouette coming for you.

Your heart jumps in your stomach turning fast. The snow is thick and you’re freezing but you force your legs to move hoping that the adrenaline of being caught is enough strength.

However the silhouette is far faster. At first glance it appears so far away but in no time you feel a hand grabbing the back of your throat. Enough strength stopping you dead in your tracks. His voice, his breath, his hand snakes around the front of your throat, you feel as hot breath against your neck. Well it's called fingers dig into your flesh.

"You didn't think I'd catch you did you?"

You try to stifle your crying but it only makes the hand around you tighten.

"Answer me." He whispers in a threatening tone. All you could do is shake your head.

Your answer satisfies him.

"Do you know how dangerous it is out here? You aren't wearing anything you would have froze to death if I hadn't found you." His grip tightens once again. It’s getting harder to breathe. But he doesn't care, lifting you up in his arms. You see his warm smile, his icy blue eyes and his blue hair.

"Let's go home," with no more oxygen you black out.

Only to wake up wrapped in a black blanket on a rug warm fire in the same cabin you tried to escape from. Your head is killing you and your body feels numb as you try to sit up, gazing ideally into the fire. Your body shakes, not because you are cold, but because you notice the metal chain attached to your leg, bolted against a metal plate screwed into the floor. A pair of arms wrap around you.

"I had to. You disobeyed me and escaped, I did this for your own safety."

His fingertips, ice cold, move underneath the yard blanket, caressing your naked skin. You haven't even realize you were naked.

"Stealing my coat and scarf too? I have to admit it looked cute on you, but not when you are 10 ft away from me. You won't be needing them anymore or any clothes for that matter…" The ice demon purrs before grabbing your blanket and ripping it off you. Grusha lifts you with ease, placing you in his lap. It's cold body against your warm one.

"Mmh. Your warm body feels so good. You gave me quite a scare. You felt so cold, as though you were going to die." His breath quickens.

"Don't. Ever do that to me again."

"I'm sorry.” You could only murmur. His eyes widen until he busts out into laughter, a crazed laugh.

"Your pathetic apology isn't enough, my dear. As priceless as it was, I have to punish you." Grusha pulls you closer to him; your back pressing against his bare chest

You feel his cock press against you, naked, it’s the only realization that you aren’t the only one without clothes.

His fingers play with your heated core, cold clashing with warmth, making you squirm, but he holds you in place firmly. He won't let you escape not this time. Not ever.

Besides his inflamed hot cock, his entire body chilling you.

"So warm" Grusha mumbles. Your warm body is intoxicating but it wasn't enough; Grusha needed more. Obsessed with how warm and soft humans are. He craves the heat between your legs. To be inside you and envelop himself in your hot body. To burn himself up in your wet warm walls and fill you with his own warmth.

The ice spirit rocks himself against you, his fingers digging into your thighs. He wraps an arm around your legs, lifting you up, his other hand stroking is cock, maneuvering it underneath you, his tip now prodding you open.

"Fuck…" He mutters, his breath tickling your ear, as his cock finally pushes inside you.

Grusha's breath hitches, his cock is twitching inside you, feeling you squirm in his lap.

"Stop, don’t move…this is supposed to be a punishment. Sit here and keep me warm."

You obey, staying still, his rigid cold body against your soft skin, aching cock deep inside you. Pressing so tightly against you. You could feel every ripple of his muscles.

Your eyes try not to focus on his dick stretching you out and instead focus on the huge scar on his pale skin. Trying not to focus on how close he is to you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his hands all over your chest rubbing your sides, cold fingers tracing over your nipples. His teeth and tongue occasionally nipping and tasting the shell of your ear.

"Your heartbeat… I can feel it; I can hear it.

So alive, so warm. Been so long since I've had one so comforting. Never leave me again."

"Never leave me cold again."

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: iii.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

If you thought that on December 8th you would get a break from Gojou Satoru in your life, you were very much so wrong.

At this hour, there isn't even an opportunity to even try meeting up with your friends. They're all in school, one without the luxury of giving students the day off when a birthday or two comes around. You really do have to hope and pray for an opportunity to hang out to fall into your lap. It was one of your few promises to yourself when you entered the world of fighting against curses rather than passively living with them.

Even if you were living out an otaku's dream of fighting evil, you wouldn't forget the normalcy you were leaving behind.

It's just a lot easier said than done now that you're no longer in it ー not that you truly ever were as someone born to see curses.

At the very least, though, if things had been a bit different, you could have at least spent the hours leading up to your birthday with your actual friends instead of the class menace. I don't even know why he's here, you grumble as you skulk forward through the crowd. There are so many things Gojou could be doing besides being in your vicinity.

He could have gone to an arcade.

He could have stayed in his room playing video games. No, instead he's here with you smack dab in the middle of town because it would have been too boring on his own otherwise. Can't he be bored somewhere else? You again wallow over the fact your friends are in school at this present moment before deciding that is likely a good thing. Gojou does not need to meet your personal circle of friends.

"I'm bored," Gojou whines, lazily trailing behind you. "What's the point of doing this if we already know they're throwing us a party?"

My thoughts exactly, you huff. You pointedly ignore the fact that you've been completely fine with the arrangement prior to it being your turn. Birthday party set up is a different ordeal. There's usually plenty to keep you both separated from one another. "Take it up with, Fujioka-sensei and Yaga-sensei," you sigh, as you try to find something that can make time go faster. Your stomach growls and you bite your bottom lip in irritation. I shouldn't have skipped breakfast. But in their haste to boot you and Gojou out of the dorms, you forgot to grab something.

Gojou you could understand. But why you?

He's the one who shakes boxes of presents even if they're his.

You're as a mild-mannered as they come.

"Screw walking around, we might as well just find somewhere to eat," you look over your shoulder at the boy and he shrugs back, fine with the change of plans. "I'm pretty sure there's a Johnny's somewhere close by." Even a hole-in-the-wall restaurant will do.

"What about over there?" Gojou nods his chin far at the first building that catches his eye.

"There?" You raise an incredulous brow, resting your hands on your hips. It's no Johnny's, it seems a bit more cutesy than that with its quaint brick walls and frosted windows. The Christmas decorations leave little to be desired. "I don't want to deal with Santa in my ear the whole time."

Gojou points over to the establishment again and you trail after his finger until he stops at a bright, cherry-red sign, "but there's a discount."

Discount?

Christmas Lovey-Dovey Special: Couple's Receive 50% Off!

You share a look for approximately three seconds before your hands are clasping one another with much enthusiasm as you practically skip to the restaurant in question. "You know, darling, you really do come up with the best ideas, sometimes," you beam, eyes practically sparkling. If there is one thing people love universally whether rich or poor, it's a damn discount. And if holding hands and acting lovey dovey with Gojou means getting half off on a random discount for breakfast, you'll fold faster than Mr. Darcy in Pride & Prejudice.

"Only sometimes?" Gojou croons and you're sure he's fluttering his eyelashes. "I'm pretty sure you mean all the time, cupcake."

Don't push it, your eyes narrow.

You get a shit-eating grin in return. "Table for two please," Gojou holds up two fingers with his free hand as you approach the doors, just as a hostess passes by. "We're just celebrating our birthdays!"

"He's December 7th," you point over to Gojou with a dreamy sigh.

"She's December 9th," Gojou nudges you lightly with a grin. "We're soulmates, it's pretty much a sign we were born for each other. Celebrating on the 8th is a happy medium, right, honey?"

"Satoru, please," your grip on his hand tightens in warning as you chuckle sheepishly. You're being too extra, dumbass. Gojou grins despite that, squeezing back just as hard but twice as obnoxious. "You're embarrassing me. She doesn't want to hear all of that sappy stuff. Don't indulge him, he's just in a good mood because we're partying with our friends later."

The hostess, bless her heart, takes Gojou's excessiveness in stride. She definitely doesn't get paid enough to deal with your antics. "What a sweet coincidence," she smiles politely. "Follow me right this way," she says before leading you to a table not too far away by a window. She's tired of dealing with couples, you hold back a look of pity. May her shift almost be over.

Within seconds of looking at the menu, you already know what you want to order. "I'm getting the drunken udon," you tell Gojou unnecessarily. "And the grapefruit juice. It's got grapefruit chunks in it."

Gojou doesn't even attempt to hide his disgust. When it came to fruit, grapefruit is the only he hates the most. You weren't fond of grapefruit when you were younger, but in the past 6 months you developed a taste for it when you realized it was the one drink in the dorm fridge Gojou doesn't touch. It's not that bad once you get used to. "Right, I forgot you and Utahime hate sweets," Gojou clicks his tongue, unimpressed. "You have boring taste buds. At least look at the special menu before getting something this place serves all the time." He points at a sickeningly pink strawberry soda too large for one person and two heart-shaped straws. "We should get this one instead. And the waffles."

"I like sweets, I just don't wanna taste the diabetes when I consume it," you argue back. You even love strawberries. You just know that the amount of sugar in that drink is likely enough to put a caveman in a coma. There's sweet and then there's the unnatural abominations that Gojou eats on a regular. What's scarier is that his justification is that it helps fuel his brain power or something dumb like that. You're pretty sure he ripped the idea straight out of a manga and is hoping no one notices. "You drink most of it then if we get it. Talk shit about my udon all you want, I'm still ordering it."

"We're getting it," Gojou replies promptly, no room left for argument. Whatever, there's grapefruit juice back in the dorms.

I'm grabbing a water just in case then.

The water is a godsend five minutes later when you are able to confirm that the Lovers' Strawberry Cloud does, in fact, have enough sugar to put a caveman in a coma. One sip and you regretted all of your life choices that led you to this very moment. "You finish it," you mutter after gulping half of your icy water down.

He's so happy about it, you're sure this was planned from the start.

Thankfully, your food arrives not too long afterward. The only real hiccup about the customer service is the waiter giving you the wrong plates. "Here you go," his lips curled upwards gently as he placed Gojou's waffles by your hands. It's only when he tries to give your udon to Gojou that the birthday boy in question stopped the motion with a lazy hand.

"The waffles are mine, actually," Gojou deadpans, passing your plate in your direction with one hand. With a clumsy sputter, the issue is resolved in seconds and your respective meals are placed in front of the right person.

You grimace, holding back a gag of frustration when Gojou wastes no time is shoving his food down his throat. Ravenously as he eats, somehow his cheeks stay clear of sticky mess coating them. Of course, Gojou even eats pretty. You're a hater, but you can give credit where credit is due. Gojou Satoru is, objectively speaking, very pretty. To be honest, all of your classmates are hot. It's almost unfunny how there isn't one average person in their ranks, yourself included of course. Gojou is just the only classmate that's this annoying about it. It's such an insult that someone with such a shitty attitude is this pretty. Where's Utahime to rant and groan with when you need her?

When your stomach growls again, you shake your head. Eat first, hate later.

You relish the taste with an enthusiastic moan. Drunken udon is the absolute best.

"Give me a bite?"

You blink once,

twice.

"No," you look at the white-haired sorcerer like he's grown a second head. "Gojou, drunken udon has chili in it." And yet in spite of your explanation, the prodigal son of the Gojou Clan still leans over enthusiastically, mouth wide open expectantly. "Yeah, I'm not letting you eat this," you snort before taking another bite of your meal. The texture of the noodles and the bell paper, the blend of the chili and garlic. It really is heaven in every bite.

"Some girlfriend you are, you don't even care that I'm starving," apparently the lovey dovey waffle platter on the table means nothing to him. There's a pause and he must have glanced down at his plate because a moment later he added, "this means nothing."

You roll your eyes, "hey genius, a true girlfriend that cares about you won't let you eat something she knows you don't like."

"But [First]," he groans.

"Why do you even want this this, you can't even handle curry that's barely above mild!"

"You're making it look good!"

"Because it is," you reply like it's obvious. For anyone who likes spice, drunken udon is delicious. "Gojou, no," you barely stifle your snickers as you remember the day you were reminded that Gojou and spice weren't compatible in the slightest. All it took was one bite into a hot cheetoh he stole from a box of snacks your parents mailed to you for a small taste of home to send him into a coughing fit so bad you almost felt bad for the guy. "You can't handle the hot cheetohs my parents send. I really don't know what to tell you other than you are not built like that, please stop."

"First of all, I don't know what you're talking about," you shake your head with a sigh as the argument continues. How someone could be this persistent to eat something their stomach can't handle, you don't know. "And second, since then I've become a man." That was literally two weeks ago.

You shrug with a sigh, "if you really want it then." You did your part in warning him, the rest is on Gojou. With a whispered 'yes!' that was far too smug, Gojou opened his mouth expectantly once more and you finally relented in feeding him.

One second.

Two seconds-

That's all it takes before Gojou's face contorts in pain and displeasure.

"Geez, how you can eat this kind of stuff, you can't even taste it over the spice!" Wordlessly, you set down your chopsticks to pass over a napkin and watch as he spits the noodley mush into it. The amusement from watching Gojou fan his tongue and lips like they're on fire is indescribable. "Why would you let me eat this?!" If you were worried about sharing the much-too-sugary couple's drink beforehand, you don't anymore as your classmate makes quick work of ingesting it.

"You said your tastebuds had gotten stronger since the last time."

"And you trusted me?!" Gojou's sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose to show wide blue eyes in disbelief.

"I didn't," there are a few giggles from the table to your right and you have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from joining them. Your 'boyfriend' just looks at you in utter disbelief and betrayal, rambling on and on about his woes. "Oh stop being a baby, you spat it out so you'll be fine now. Here," you reach over to grab his fork, lifting a piece of whipped cream covered waffle with a thin slice of strawberry to boot. "Heal with the power of sugar." Grumbling all the while, your boyfriend of the hour clamped his mouth down on the goods. "Better?"

When you get another mumble but no complaints, you decide that's a 'yes' and go back to your own food. "Just try not to overdo it with the sweets. We still have cake and ice cream later." You love whipped cream on waffles as much as the next person, but the amount on Gojou's plate is unholy.

"This is better than the hellfire you call food anyway," your eyes roll but your mood is surprisingly at a high. Not even Gojou and his dramatics can spoil a meal, it seems. You also can't deny that knowing he won't be touching your udon the rest of your time there also lifts your spirits. "This is the perfect amount of sweet. The perfect amount of anything," your eyes dart between the whipped cream and your classmate, deadpan disbelief all over your face. "I'm serious. The strawberries aren't sweet so it all works out." When the disbelief doesn't leave your face, Gojou points his fork in your direction. "Try it."

Reluctant, you lean over to take a tentative bite. Oh.

You blink and make a noise of pleasant surprise. The tartness of the strawberries really balanced out the sweetness of the whipped cream. "Not bad," you lick the leftover whipped cream on your lips as Gojou continues gorging himself. From the corner of your eye, you see the people a table away giggling and whispering at your exchange.

You must be selling the couple's bit quite well.

"People in this country really make a big deal of indirect kisses," you say quietly enough for the two of you, returning to your own spicy goodness. "I didn't even know what they were when I moved here. I shared food and drinks like this all the time back home." Cousins, friends and other neighborhood kids that dance across your memories over the seasons from soda to ice cream to fruit. That came to a crashing halt when, during an after school heist at a burger joint, you nearly died drinking lychee soda and angled the straw for your friend Hide to try. Then everyone kept on making jokes about us being a thing and it started getting too awkward to hang around each other because he thought I had a crush on him. Food sharing politics were different from country to country, what a twist. "I guess that's a piece of culture shock no one ever really tells you about when you move to a new country."

Gojou shrugs at your nonchalant observations, "it's not a big deal for me. I just eat what I want."

"That's because you're a food thief."

Another shrug, a lack of denial. Details, details. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you continue eating.

This isn't so bad actually, you look out the window, watching as passersby make their own ways to their destinations. Living out their lives while you're some random extra eating drunken udon in a window.

To them, you're not [Full Name], you're just a random face they won't remember if they'll even see you in the first place. It's feelings like that fills you melancholy and fascination. No curses, no sorcerers and no Jujutsu Jesus. You wonder briefly if Gojou ever has such thoughts. To one part of the world he's the one who changed its very balance. To another part, he's just some guy. Just some random guy who happens to have a penchant for wearing sunglasses indoors. If it ever looms over his mind, you can't tell nor are you close enough you think he'd tell you. Maybe he tells Suguru or something. You see a flash of white and red in your peripheral vision and when you look, there's another mouthful of waffle in your face. This is such a weird combination of food, yet you take another bite anyway. You raise a few noodles of your own and mumble over a mouthful, "want another bite of mine?"

"Yeah no, I'm good," the white-haired sorcerer replies without missing any beats and you snicker. You wonder how much time will pass before he decides to test his luck with spice all over again. You have no doubt it won't take long.

A temporary truce between Gojou and the We Hate Gojou Alliance and on your birthday of all days. Well, almost your birthday. The small day set between you both to encapsulate both. Apparently, when his obnoxious levels and extreme lack of respect is dialed down to a 2, Gojou is a lot more tolerable than usual. Talk about a birthday surprise.

The rest of your lunch is eaten in relative silence but it isn't uncomfortable, you decide as you stuff yourself with a mixture of savory and sweet. Gojou tops off the last of the waffles with a satisfied with stretch of his arms before you split the bill. Good gods, I love a discount, you sigh in satisfaction as you finally make your way to leave. "We should probably start heading back to the school right?" It shouldn't take that long to set up a party. There's only one cake. "We probably have a few hours until they're done with the cake and setting up decorations."

"Might as well walk off all the calories so there's room for later," he shrugs and he's about to put his hands in his pocket before opting to grab your hand. "Let's go pet Hachiko or something."

Off to Shibuya you go then.

The grand finale of your pretending to be a couple is nothing special. You simply walk out the door, matching smiles on your faces as you pass by the staff.

When you finally exit the building, you shudder at the cold autumn wind that hit your face. Your hand tightens around Gojou's, clutching for warmth instinctively. Of course his hands are permanently warm. "What are you, a furnace?" Gojou grins smugly when you lift your intertwined hands, scrutinizing his with a squint somewhere between envy and curiosity. He has nice hands, you note. They're soft, but not so unbelievably soft you would think he was some civilian. His palms are a touch coarse, but nothing uncomfortable to hold, with no scars or blemishes to be seen. Must be the perk of utilizing Limitless at his leisure. "Why do you get to be blessed with warm hands?"

"Maybe the universe just likes me more," he replies with ease.

Considering his future is the one that's boring and yours is the one marked with death, that must truly be the case.

"Must be."

Happy Birthday to us.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

If you're wondering what you got for your birthday: Shoko and Utahime both tipped in to get you a Yamashita Tatsuro CD. Mei Mei just tossed over a gift card and called it a day. Suguru thoughtfully got you a book next in the line of a series you're fond of. And Gojou? Well, you got to be in his presence and it was actually tolerable. Congratulations?

[elikajinnie]

HII !!! Hope you’re doing welll :3 So now that im done with the dbd series i HAD to write a review cause it was soooo awesome i had to say something.

First of all, i never knew about dbd until i came across your fics, and tbh it was the BEST discovery of the year even if it had just started. Im not usually the biggest fan of online games but this one is just SOOO addictive that i stay up every night to play 😭 also i wanted to get familiar with the game a bit before starting the fics, and that was lowkey the best idea i had cause i was able to enjoy the story fully without feeling confused.

Moving on to my little review :D i’ll just make a ranking so it’s easier hehe.

#1 Survive til daylight, my dear :

*deep inhale* AAAAAHHHH !!! this one was my ABSOLUTE favorite. The writing was sharp, perfect description of the map, the characters and the backstory, especially the killer’s one it was absolutely incredible. I loved how flirty yet dangerously charming he was, his character fits heeseung perfectly in my opinion. The mix of elegance and menace he had made him so compelling. The dynamic between him and the survivor was intense and made the story even more thrilling. The tiniest comment i have is that i wish it was just a little bit longer. But honestly it was amazing from start to finish and deserves the first place. It’s also the best beginning for the series.

#2 Every move you make, i see it :

This story was SO SO SOOOO EXCITING to read OMG !!! It was thrilling, fast-paced and completely captivating. It left me dumbfounded at every paragraph. The killer’s design was so unique and creative, the details like the choker and the wolf arm added such a cool touch. The only thing that kept me from putting it first was picturing jay running on all fours… 😭 it’s just my opinion ofc, but it felt kind of awkward to imagine him like that ( not just him precisely, but just a human in all fours in general ). I think it would’ve worked better if he fully transformed into a wolf/beast while running. But other than that, it was a fantastic read. The tension and chemistry between him and the survivor was just perfect, it also had the perfect ending although i couldn’t get enough of it.

#3 Cold touch, sharp mirror :

This one was DEFINITELY the most original of the series. I could’ve told the amount of work behind the story just by reading it. The concept of the killer and his powers suited Sunghoon so so so perfectly. The idea of the frost, the maze, and the mirrors was just brilliant !! The world-building was so well done i wish there was an actual version on the game 😓 however, what made me put it so low in the ranking was the way his obsession took a darker turn towards the end. It felt a bit too psychotic for my taste- i prefer when the dynamic leans more towards romance than madness, BUT THAT’S JUST ME AGAIN !! It’s not making it any less amazing and creative, and he’s my favorite killer out of all !

#4 Shadowed desires :

Finally, jake’s fic and my least favorite 😓 in all honesty, it’s not a bad story, but it’s definitely less exciting than the others. the character you gave him was interesting but still pretty basic if we compare him to the previous killers. Also the obsession he had for the survivor made him more clingy and desperate than terrifying. The way he just stayed attached to her the whole story without even thinking about harming her made the tension weaker and the story softer. I KNOW THAT WAS THE POINT OBVIOUSLY but it contrasted a bit too much with the original theme. It’s still a good read nonetheless, i expected more for him but it was still enjoyable :3

Overall, i LOVED the dbd series. That’s just another reason for me to call you my favorite writer on this platform. You’re always able to come up with insane stories, and thrilling plots i could never get too much of !! The way you make every fic so easy and enjoyable to read, for example the dbd stories, im sure even readers who aren’t familiar with the game didn’t get confused with how beautifully and clearly you describe everything. Without forgetting that’s it’s a very original and unique idea :3 I hope you enjoyed my little review, again that’s just my personal opinion and preferences, all yours fics are amazing and i will always make sure to say it !! You honestly deserve sooo much more visibility and appreciation, so really keep going im such a sucker for your fics ^3^

Now im kind of confused, should i finish the rest of the horror au, or maybe start the hogwart series… 🤔 i guess you’ll know better so tell me what should i go for !!

Anyways, that’s all for nowww !! have a good night/day, and pray for me cause an earthquake just struck where i live 🥲 idk if i’ll be able to sleep… but anyways love youuu stay safe and hydrated 🫶🏻

- Love from Dia <3

This is long, but omg, it made me tear up!!! (Which is kinda unfortunate cause I'm at work 😭)

I don't know where to start 😭 Thank you so much for ur review, but I'm so glad you liked it and enjoyed it!! It's definitely better when you've played the game and know what it's about ^^. I really tried to make it immersive and explain the details for the non-players!

I am most proud of the Heeseung version, so this is very boosting for me ☺️

The Jay one was just me being freaky, and the Sunghoon one was very... chilling in a GOOD WAY! Stems from the fact that I had a HUGE crush on Jack Frost as a child. And I agree the Jake one was.. in my words pathetic :/ But i was feeling very touch starved xD now I just discarded it.

You can choose which one :3 The hogwarts aus are more popular 🤔 I still have some hogwarts requests I need to finish!

Thank you for ur review!! And omg! I hope you and ur family are alright! 🙏 Thank you for the love and support, Dia! <3

[wishing-stones]

we know axe's (and ren's) safeword, but do the others have safewords picked out?

Yes they do:

Killer: Frost (for similar reasons to Axe; Snowdin sucks when you're by yourself.) Dust: Cart (It came to him randomly, and he's pretty sure that it's something he's not ever going to say.) Axe: Snow (And we know why-- it's cold and sucks.) Cross: Pause (Largely from game dynamics-- he's less likely to say this than 'wait,' 'stop,' or 'no,' when he doesn't completely mean the others if he's babbling. Pause is a directive.) Baggs: Redact. (Little bit of a mouthful and unlikely to come out of him unless he's running his mouth at medical play (which... is possible, but it's in a sentence then and not its own individual word to mean 'stop')) Nightmare: Daylight . (Also unlikely to come out of him unless he's toying with someone ('And you'll never see daylight again') so it's jarring if its said by itself)

Hilariously, they all also respond to 'hold' the same way. It's ingrained.

[amorhedera6]

as someone who watched and loved season 1 of flash, and someone who watched tolerated all the way up to season 5 and half of season 6, i decided to sit down and watch the flash finale. and boy do i have thoughts.

most of them are what the fuck is going on.

i watched all of once upon a time, so i’ve been burned by shows losing steam and obsessing over the main ship instead of the interesting plot before. when i saw the signs in the flash, i pulled back. i didn’t wanna go through it again. honestly i should’ve before i did, but i have a crippling crush on grant gustin.

1) khione

i like dc comics, but it spans infinitely and there are lots of things i don’t know, so correct me if i’m wrong. but i did a little research and it doesn’t seem to me that khione was a character in the comics. so (if danielle panabaker was staying on the show) why not just let her be caitlin? have they just decided against the character they have been writing since season one? khiones plot of understanding her powers, of of coming to terms with who/what she was all could have easily transferred to caitlin. it got her well when they first began to integrate killer frost into her story! they could have continued, once frost died, by having caitlin regain some of frost’s powers. while having her mourn her sister, she adapts to having powers again and how to be herself with them and not frost. an echo of the plot that she was already going through when the writers decided to just jeckyll/hyde her. it would have worked incredibly well! plus, it would give caitlin a fulfilling end to the question she’s been asking since season one: who is she on her own? in season one, it was without ronnie, in season two she was battling discovering these powers, and by season three she was battling becoming the super villain she knew her doppelgänger was. making her another new character with the same plot that caitlin, then frost had just defeats caitlin’s purpose. when the original core characters of your show keep leaving (cisco, joe, any version of wells) why kill of another just to replace her with such a similar character played by the same actress?? it truly baffles me.

2) the time wraiths

i’m sure i’m not the first one to say this, but why introduce the time wraiths if you want to have barry keep time traveling to and fro. “but they’re creatures of the speed force, so obviously wouldn’t attack the avatar!” okay fine. NORA IS NOT THE AVATAR. WHY DOES SHE NEVER FACE CONSEQUENCES FOR HER TIME TRAVELS. SHE HELD HERSELF. AS A BABY. THAT SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED.

i may be biased bc i don’t like nora.

3) bart

i know he wasn’t really mentioned much in the finale, but i wanted to understand things i’d missed/forgot so i looked into him for this. why did they make bart a part of the show. i understand he’s a big character in the comics, but if they wanted to have another child for barry and iris be introduced, why not use the tornado twins? why use his grandson and just change it? any create nora at all?? (again i’m probably just biased against nora, but still)

it just doesn’t make any sense to me to take an established character and change their lore just bc you like it better than using the established characters, since that conflicts with your original characters. JUST FOLLOW THE SOURCE MATERIAL ITS NOT THAT HARD.

4) eddie

bringing back eddie thawne, when his sacrifice already didn’t achieve its purpose, completely cheapens the finale of season one. especially by making him an uncle villain who wants to destroy the timeline because his fiancée (who he knew was destined to be with barry in the future) denied him because she already had a husband and family.

eddie didn’t like barry in season one. he rightly thought that he was into iris and came in between the two of them. but he tried to be his friend because he was friends with joe and he loved iris. he was a good guy and he wanted good for the people in his life. he loved iris, and if it truly made her happier to be with barry than him, he would have stepped to the side, the finale completely changes his character for the wills of the plot, making him hate barry for “stealing his life” when he sacrificed himself so iris could continue to live her life happily.

5) iris’ labor

for two and a half of the four episodes of the finale, iris is in labor. and because they’re being attacked by the negative speed force, everyone rallies together to fight, and she is left alone in the hospital in labor.

WHY DID NO ONE CALL JOE???

i get he has jenna to look after or whatever, but that’s his daughter, she’s in labor, the father of the baby he also calls his son, and yeah it’s weird, but we don’t talk about that. his daughter is in labor, all alone, worried about wether or not barry will survive, and no one thinks that he would be helpful to the situation at all. so fucking stupid. i understand if maybe the actor didn’t want to come back for it, but he was already in the finale episodes anyway!! he was a major point in the first episode, and he was there when she finally had the baby in the end!! why couldn’t he just be there for a little bit longer??

6) cisco

okay, carlos valdez has said that he had scheduling conflicts, and that it was heartbreaking for him not to be able to return for the finale. i understand that. i am not at all criticizing that.

they couldn’t even name drop cisco? be like, ciscos picking up the cake at the party scene? have caitlin be in the phone with him instead of her mother at the end? they were best friends, you’re saying when she came back from the dead she didn’t even call him? or say i called cisco, he has blah blah blah going on so he can’t come help buuuut he gave us this vital piece of information!!

come one people. throw us a bone.

7) chester

i did get to chester in the original series, but it was like right as i was losing interest in it, so i didn’t care to research him at all, but i did for this! why did they make him diet cisco?? internet he comics, because he has a vortex inside of him, chester is fat. why was he played by a skinny guy? why did they not utilize his character to its full extent instead of just being a replacement once they found out carlos was leaving the show??

okay that’s all i have, i wanted to complain bc it made me angry. i liked the flash originally, i think it had a lot of good potential, but like so many shows, it was dredged on too long, got convoluted, the writing prowess diminished instead of flourishing, and it ended after too many seasons. sorry to the flash, you could’ve been so good.

[sanguine-salvation]

What's that? Something obnoxiously loud... Well there was only one person who could be this obnoxious.

There comes Joker, driving in her stupid toy car. There are two low grade Bluetooth speakers somewhere beneath her on the actual seat that she can't fit on, given that it's a kid's toy. 'Birthday Cake' by Rihanna blasted through those shitty speakers. The back had two balloons tied to it. One green, one purple. She has a little party hat on her head, and a picnic basket on her lap. Which she promptly places down after stopping mere inches away from Viktor. Reaching into her pockets with both hands, she rummages around. With one, she grabs a hand-full of glitter, which she throws in their direction. With the other, she pulls out a party horn that's far too loud for its cheap plastic shell.

"HAPPY UN-WOMBING DAY, CUTTING BOARD! HOPE IT WAS A C-SECTION! YOUR FIRST OF MANY CUTS! HAHAHAHAHA!" One more toss of glitter as she drives off again. The basket contains a homemade square birthday cake, with little Joker frosting decals and various red lines meant to mimic Zsasz' cuts. Grape juice in a wine bottle. And a handmade Zsasz plushie; Complete with sunglasses you can remove! One to match that Joker plushie she had given them ages ago- if they still had it...

Literally what did they expect anymore.

They did know that they’d play the game of chicken and not back away as that rattling little toy car zoomed up to them under the whining strain of a tiny motor and amidst the chunky, crispy, fly-wing sound of poorly filtered Rihanna. Part of them wondered if she had a whole themed playlist, because that would be so very on-brand. The rest of them did not want to test that theory at all.

Though admittedly, she almost got them to twitch with how close she got to squishing their toes. She DID get them to twitch when they made the terrible decision to look down at the basket, only to put themself in perfect range to get a facial of glitter punctuated with the noise the devil must make when he stubs his toe.

“Augh—” and nope, not even anyone left to glare at, because there she went like the wind, baying gleefully with success.

Okay well. They were distracted from the day and to the day all at once. How in the hell did she even do that!? But they just… BREATHED CALMLY, rubbed their temples— which only got the glitter in their hair and ears, so they’d have fun with that for the next few days of manic showering— and looked down at the basket. Through a little raining halo of glitter!

A cake. Appropriately decorated in Jokerization and some little ��scars’, clearly homemade— did she really bake them a cake? … they were going to eat so cautiously. Wine? Maybe, probably? But most importantly…

A plushie. A them plushie. With sunglasses. The stare, baffled at it for a few moments, lifting their own… glitter-bespeckled sunglasses to get a better look at it with one sharply arched brow and a squint. Did she really get all the scars in exactly the right places. It’s… a little creepy! But still cute. In a creepy way. But they just sigh and give it a squeeze. Yes, it will go in their hideout, right next to the Joker one that still sat mockingly on the shelf. Why did they keep it? What, were they going to throw it away? They’re a serial killer not a monster, thank you.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

He’s Like A Puppy

kai parker x reader

summary: an argument starts up when damon and bonnie return to the boarding house to find you and kai spending time together. it goes south when you start to defend kai against your friends' remarks.

≪ originally publishes on ao3: 2/24/23 ≫

tags: discussion of murder, cupcakes, small biblical references, fluff

word count: 967

“Don’t you see that he’s dangerous? You’re insane to think otherwise,” Bonnie scolds you, pointing at Kai in the corner.

Kai, who, at this very moment, is sitting on a stool with a cupcake, a bit of the frosting on his nose.

“Very dangerous,” you comment, holding back a chuckle. 

She rolls her eyes, “you didn’t see him in the prison world. You don’t know what he’s done.”

“Killed some people? Doesn’t everyone do that around here?”

“So you think it’s okay?”

“I mean, no, it’s not okay, but if we’re gonna declare Kai evil because he killed a couple folks, then everyone else here is, too. I mean, hell. Stefan’s been a ripper, Damon’s… Damon, Elena’s famous for turning off her humanity, Caroline’s temperamental.”

“Y/N, he massacred his family, there’s a difference.”

“Is there? Killing your family, or killing strangers who had lives and families that you know nothing about? And for all we know, maybe it was a Menedez’ brothers situation.”

“Okay, yes, I see your point about the strangers. But are you implying it’s okay to kill your family if they hurt you a teensy bit?”

“May I just say it was more than a teensy bit?” Kai interrupts.

“Shut up-”

“You shut up, Damon, I’m trying to hear all sides of this story.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy right now! He’s a liar. A manipulative, sociopathic liar. Besides, his name’s Malachai, for heaven’s sake! He said it himself, ‘it’s like his parents expected him to be evil’.”

You chuckle.

“What’s so funny about that?” Damon’s eyes narrow. 

“You do know that ‘Malachai’ literally means ‘angel’, right? In fact, it’s a Biblical name. Malachai was a prophet of… y’know that actually doesn’t matter. Regardless, you can’t tell that someone’s evil based on their name. Unless that name is literally, like, Lilith. Or Lucifer.”

“Whatever. You can’t trust someone based on their name, either,” she counters.

“Didn’t say I trust him off his name. Just said we should treat him as we do everyone else in this massive fucking house that’s killed a bunch of people. And how do we treat them? Oh yeah - with understanding, and reason.”

“He stabbed me in the gut, Y/N.”

“So has Damon.”

“Yeah, but I have the right to kill her because we’re friends.”

“Do you even hear yourself when you speak, or is it white noise in your head while a little mouse plays scrabble with sentences?”

“Uncalled for.”

“Was it?”

They’re left at a standstill. No one is sure what to say next. 

“Okay,” you carefully start, “whether or not you trust Kai, he’s here. And, for reasons I don’t know but I also don’t care, he’s been staying here, at the boarding house. Now, since I’m your out-of-town friend, I am also staying here, at the boarding house. So what’s wrong with us hanging out since we’re quite often, literally the only two people here?”

They, again, see the point in your statement, but continue to bicker about it anyway.

“He could hurt you.”

“Could, yeah. But we were chilling for two hours before you guys came back. Nothing happened.”

“Except he’s eating the cupcakes that Elena specifically made for the party tonight.”

“Maybe you shoulda labeled them ‘no touching’ or something.”

“Are you defending him over this now?”

“Well now I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“I just… Elena’s going to be pissed when she finds her cupcakes gone.”

“Only one’s gone, she’ll barely notice.”

“I’ll tell her he stole it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, what’s she gonna do? Make him throw it back up?”

“One, gross. Two… maybe I’ll just let her finally kill him. That would solve a lot of our problems.”

You can’t help but smirk, “and we’ve come full circle. House of killers.”

Damon’s eyes widen as he realizes, “wait. No, wait. But it’s, ack, you suck. Fine. She won’t kill him. Just get him out of the kitchen.”

You shrug and make your way over to Kai, who’s now licking icing off his fingers. “Wanna go watch a movie?”

“Sure.” The answer is hesitant, but his excitement is given away with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“What? This was the original problem, Damon! They can’t be alone together! What if he snaps again?”

“Bonnie,” you take a deep breath, “he’s not going to hurt me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Look at him - he’s like a puppy. Just needs a friend and he’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. We’re gonna go get out of your hair, get out of your cupcakes, and watch a movie.” You state, taking his hand. 

“Call if you need anything,” Bonnie just rolls her eyes.

“Might need a grocery store run, but I won’t need help.”

“Whatever.”

◇◇◇◇

Halfway up the stairs, Kai looks behind him to face you, “why’d you call me a puppy?”

“Because you are one. Y’know, I mean what I said. I trust you, and you’re safe with me. You just need some company, Kai. It couldn’t have been easy being isolated for eighteen years.”

“So… you’re gonna be my company?”

“Is that okay?”

He smiles, his dimples showing on the sides of his face, “mhm.”

“Good. But two things… one, if you’re ever feeling angry or uneasy, come to me first, okay? I don’t want them to hurt you, so give me a chance to help you through it.”

“Okay.”

“And two, let’s not eat any more of Elena’s cupcakes. I know, pissing her off is fun sometimes, and they’re really good cupcakes. But we can make our own so Damon doesn’t kill us.”

“Fine, I won’t eat hers.”

“Sounds good. Thank you, Kai.”

“Thank you, actually. Um, for defending me earlier, and being a friend.”

“Of course. Now, let’s go watch a movie. I have Oreos in my room.”

[dccomicsimagines]

Powerful Kiss - Wally West x Reader

Requested by Anon - hi! i was wondering if you could do a yj wally west or dick grayson imagine where one of the readers powers is they can learn a language and extract information instantaneously via lip contact(kind of like starfire) and they use this during an interrogation or on a mission and that causes a rift in the relationship because the reader made it seem as if they didn't have any powers?

***

Wally rubbed warmth into your hand as you both sat on the couch at the cave. A movie played on the TV, but it was mostly background noise. “Your hands are freezing,” Wally chuckled, smiling at you.

You smiled back at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He blushed adorably. “I probably just have poor circulation.” You ran your free hand through Wally’s messy hair. He had chased Robin around the cave minutes before and his hair was still standing on end. 

“How did training go? Did you knock Canary down?” Wally leaned forward to place a soft, fast kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

“No, but I did well.” You turned your head to catch his lips. Wally opened his mouth, allowing you to deepen the kiss. He tasted like soda and chocolate. You pulled away to catch your breath when his tongue met yours. “She said I’m cleared for missions now. Only minor ones though.”

Wally grinned. “Babe, that’s awesome.” He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you again. You buried both hands in his hair, pulling lightly to make him moan. His body vibrated excitedly against you. 

“Get a room,” Zatanna laughed as she walked into the room on her way to the kitchen. You and Wally jerked away from each other, blushing. 

“Hey Z.” You waved at her. Wally waved too before hiding his face in his hands. His ears were as red as his hair. Your heart fluttered at how cute he was. 

Robin jogged into the room. “Guys, we have a mission. Briefing in five.” He grinned at Wally. “Try to get whelmed, Walls.”

“Dude.” Wally glared at Robin. Robin just smirked at him knowingly. You blinked, realizing what Wally’s issue was. 

“Go take a minute,” you whispered to him. “It’s okay.” 

Wally gave you a thankful smile before zooming out of the room. “Batman said you could join us, (Y/N). He said Black Canary gave you the go-ahead on easy missions.” Robin leaned on the back of the couch and nudged your shoulder. 

“She did.” You flicked his nose. “And you should be nicer to Wally.”

Robin’s creepy little laugh filled your ears. “He’d do it to me too.” Robin glanced at Zatanna who was watching him from the kitchen. He stiffened, blushing slightly himself. “Hey Z, want to come on the mission too? We can be as chalant as we like.”

Zatanna giggled. You got up and left the two of them alone. A breeze hit you. Wally appeared at your side, taking your hand again. “I’m sorry I got you too excited,” you whispered in his ear. 

“You can’t help that you’re hot.” Wally grinned, kissing your cheek. “I’ll get better control. I promise.” The two of you entered the mission room where Batman was waiting. You dropped Wally’s hand when you caught Batman’s eyes lingering. Robin and Zatanna joined shortly later. You held down the excitement at your first mission briefing. 

***

Your breath came out in gasps as you ran after Icicle Jr.. He threw ice shards at you from over his shoulder. You did a somersault to dodge them, hopping back to your feet with ease. Your heart skipped a beat with joy. The training had paid off. 

However, you didn’t focus on your pride. Sprinting faster, you jumped at him and slammed into his back to knock him to the ground. Icicle Jr. grunted. His ice cold skin burned yours, but you still raised your fist for a well placed punch to his jaw to knock him unconscious.  

“Babe.” Wally zoomed to your side, eyes wide. “You did it.” 

You couldn’t stop the big smile that pulled onto your lips. “I know.” You hopped to your feet, leaving Icicle Jr. on the ground. “Did you get Killer Frost?” You glanced behind you to see Robin and Zatanna running to catch up to you.

“No, we lost her.” Wally knelt down next to Icicle Jr. 

“We’ll question him before we turn him over to authorities.” Robin frowned down at Icicle Jr. as Zatanna cast a spell to tie him up in his own shirt. “Maybe he will tell us what they were doing at the Diamond Exchange?” 

You tilted your head. “They were stealing, weren’t they?” 

Robin narrowed his eyes. “No, they weren’t. That’s why we need to learn what they were doing.” Wally flipped Icicle Jr. over and drag him over to the wall. He leaned him up against it. You rubbed your arms nervously. 

“You did good.” Zatanna stood beside you, bumping your arm before joining Robin. Wally moved back to stand with you. His hand reached down and took yours.

“Your hand is so cold.” Wally rubbed warmth into your hand. You smiled at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand back. Robin put some smelling salts under Icicle Jr.’s nose and he slowly came to. 

Icicle Jr. blinked, swearing under his breath when he saw all of you. “You won’t get anything from me. Might as well just hand me over to the cops.” He eyed you. “I got to say, you’re beautiful, baby. You should jump me more often.” He smirked at you and winked. 

You flinched. Wally glared at him, stepping in front of you protectively. “Enough,” Robin snapped, kneeling down in front of Icicle Jr. “Tell us what you were doing at the Diamond Exchange. Nothing was missing, so you weren’t stealing.”

Icicle Jr. hummed. “You’re going to get nothing out of me.”

“Egnahcxe dnomaid eht ta gniod erew uoy tahw su llet.” Zatanna smiled smugly. You bit your lip, remembering how they told you she used this spell before to get info out of Ivo. Wally squeezed your hand again, glancing back at you with a smile. 

“Vi var där som en distraktion, förlorare. Du föll för det.“ Icicle Jr.’s smirk grew at everyone’s confused looks. You tensed. Your lips tingled, craving the absorption of a new language. It happened every time you heard one you didn’t know yet. It was your secret. Then again, you didn’t realize your power until you kissed that girl in Mexico and suddenly knew Spanish fluently.

Robin muttered under his breath. “I don’t even know what language that is.”

“Too bad M’gann isn’t here.” Zatanna shared a look with you and Wally. “She could read his mind or something. I don’t know any translation spells yet.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “I can help.” You stepped out from behind Wally, letting your hand slip away from his. Zatanna and Robin blinked at you. Wally’s jaw dropped. 

“(Y/N), you only speak English and Spanish.” Wally reached out to grab your hand again. 

“For now.” You looked at Wally. “Just don’t be mad, okay?”

“Mad?” Wally frowned, shaking his head. You pulled away from him and moved to Icicle Jr.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Robin asked as you cupped Icicle Jr.’s icy cheeks. Icicle Jr. seemed to go into a state of shock. You gave him a timid smile before slowly moving to press your lips against his. He didn’t move, but you felt warmth flooding into him. 

Your body hummed at the knowledge seeping into you. Suddenly, you knew exactly what he said like you had been speaking Swedish your whole life. 

Wally grabbed your arm, jerking you away from Icicle Jr. “What the hell was that?!” Wally pushed you to face him. 

“He said they were the distraction.” You licked your lips, glancing over at Zatanna and Robin who were staring at you with wide eyes. “And he was speaking Swedish. If you try your spell again, Z, I should be able to translate.”

“How?” Wally swallowed hard. His ears were red. You knew he was angry. 

“Quiet, Kid.” Robin held up a hand before Wally could say more. “Z, do the spell. Let’s finish the mission first.” Zatanna cast the spell again and you translated. Your mind was exploding at the new knowledge, craving it like you were dying from hunger. However, your stomach sank when you caught the devastated look on Wally’s face. 

***

“Why didn’t you tell me that you can do that?” Wally exclaimed, pacing in front of you. You were sitting on the couch in the living room of the cave. Robin and Zatanna were in the kitchen, watching from afar. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Walls, I don’t really know much about it. I don’t kiss too many people. Just you and that girl in Mexico.” You pursed your lips to hold back the time you got a lip kiss from one of your cousins and learned how to speak Pig Latin. 

“But you just went and kissed him!” Wally threw his hands up in the air. “How would you like it if I just went up and kissed Artemis randomly?!”

You got to your feet, poking his chest as anger swelled up inside you. “One, it wasn’t random. Two, I was trying to help us complete the mission. Three, it didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry it hurt your feelings, but I wanted to help. This was my first mission and I wanted to do what I can.”

“Well, you didn’t have to kiss a supervillain!” Wally swatted your hand away. His eyes teared up, cheeks flushed. Your heart sank at the sight.

“Wally, I’m sorry.” You took his hands in yours, holding them tight. He closed his eyes. “I didn’t know how to bring it up.” You bit your lip hard. “How do you even go about it? I never told anyone, because I was sure no one would believe me.” You pulled away from him, hiding your face in your hands. “It’s so embarrassing.”

Wally sighed, gripping your wrist and pulling your hands away from your face. “It’s not embarrassing, babe.” You saw the rage drain out of him. That was why you loved him. He took a minute to understand, but he always came through. So kind. Your heart melted. “It’s kinda cool when you think about it.” 

“Really?” You smiled meekly at him. 

“Yeah, I mean it doesn’t make any sense at all.” Wally wrinkled his nose. “But it’s kinda cool.” He blushed. “Just run it by me next time, because you totally gave Jr. a hard-on.”

You choked. “Eww. Why did you have to tell me that?” Wally laughed, pulling you against him and kissing you sweetly. 

“Well, they’re feeling the aster,” Robin shouted from the kitchen. 

Wally jerked away from you. “Dude!” 

You laughed, shaking your head. Zatanna dragged Robin away while he laughed his head off. “Don’t be mad at him.”

“I won’t.” Wally smirked at you, his ears red as his hair. “But I’m curious. What did you get when you kissed me?”

You blushed. “Well, love and affection for one thing.” You pecked his lips. “Maybe some science knowledge too? I can do chemical equations that I never did before.” 

Wally blinked. “Babe, that’s so cool.” He buried his fingers in your hair and sealed his lips passionately to yours. Slowly, he picked you up in his arms and zoomed you back to your room where privacy was guaranteed. 

[lebenspurpur]

Slashers and Christmas pt.1

AN: Something for Christmas time. Probably going to do the rest of the slashers too, just not today. In here are: ~Michael Myers (RZ) ~the Sinclair Brothers ~Brahms Heelshire

Warnings: a bit of violence in Michael's, hinted NSFW in Brahms'

Wordcount: 1112 words

🍬 Michael Myers 🍬

Christmas was never really celebrated at his house so he never really understood the hype about it. When he thinks about it all he sees are the kids from school with their big grins and Christmas sweaters, sending disgusted smiles his way or, even worse, he gets flashbacks of Dr. Loomis gifting him useless crap he didn't need anyway.

He notices it when he leaves the house in his usual attire and every single house except yours is decorated with blinking, colorful lights, and creepy Santa figurines. He doesn't like it.

Michael does get a toll out of pretending to be Santa though. The thought of someone (probably a child) mistaking him for Santa Clause while he's literally trying to murder them is quite funny to Michael.

Oh, and snow-fights. Michael might be a giant, scary killing machine but there's still a child inside him. Prepare to be absolutely blasted with snowballs. He'll have the time of his life.

The candy and cookies are also something he likes. Obviously. I'd advise you to hide them all or they'll be gone in a day. And he's not going to help make new ones.

He gifts you a dead rat. I mean what did you expect. Maybe he puts some flowers on it to make it look pretty.

He himself doesn't want a present. If anything he'd like new candy but that's about it. He really doesn't need anything that you don't already give him.

At the end of the day, when you're laying on his chest while watching bad Christmas movies, a plate of cookies and hot chocolate next to you, he changes his mind. Maybe Christmas isn't as bad as he thought.

🍬 the Sinclair family 🍬

The Sinclair brothers didn't celebrate before you came along. Christmas just brought up really painful memories of abuse, of the loss of their parents, just a lot of bad things.

It's when you come along, start to listen to Christmas music, and make cookies when they slowly start to warm up to the holiday again. It takes time until they really celebrate the holiday but you're getting there.

They even help you decorate the town after you coax them a little bit.

🍬 Vincent Sinclair 🍬

Vincent isn't a very big fan of any holiday. They don't hold very good memories and in addition to that, he doesn't like to celebrate things just to celebrate them. It feels stupid to him.

Baking is a thing he enjoys doing, nonetheless. He'll spend hours decorating the different cookies with frosting and in the end, they'll look too pretty to eat. But he has fun and that's all that matters.

Anything else relating to crafting, he'll do too. Decorating Christmas trees, making decorations, he even makes a little scene of a nativity play out of wax.

And the town looks wonderful after he's done. Vincent has an amazing eye for color and everything seems in place and stylish. He's proud of himself too, something you don't see too often.

Vincent will definitely gift everyone something. Bo a new cap and maybe a new knife, Lester some animal bones he carved things into.

With you, it was more complicated because he never had this type of connection and doesn't know what gift is appropriate. He'll probably plan a romantic dinner and then surprise you with a painting of you. He feels like it's not enough but after seeing the dazzling grin develop on your features, he changes his mind.

He'll decorate his wax figurines with Christmas hats. The lopsided, cheeky grin he sends you when you detect his "surprise" is probably going to stick with you until the day you die.

🍬 Bo Sinclair 🍬

Bo likes to pretend that he hates anything relating to family and holidays. He's a tough, hardass serial killer. Why would he care about Christmas?

On the inside, he adores the familiar vibes Holidays like Christmas have. Bo just wants to be a normal man, with a normal family, celebrating the god damn shitty holiday, god damn it.

However, he doesn't tell you that he feels this way. He just shows up whenever you're baking cookies, moping around the living room for no apparent reason until you ask if he wants to join.

Ugh fine. I'll fucking help you. But not for too long, I have more important stuff to do. Sure he has.

He doesn't give gifts but he's more tolerant and relaxed which is its own gift, honestly.

🍬 Lester Sinclair 🍬

Lester missed the holiday the most. He missed spending time with his brothers and he missed feeling normal.

Therefore, he will try his hardest to make Christmas what it's supposed to be.

He'll chop Christmas trees, he'll buy (steal) decorations and food. Hell, he'll even try to cook.

Lester used to try to do that too but always got his feelings hurt by Bo who snarled at him to stop putting crap everywhere.

Now that you're here, there's someone else who wants to celebrate and he couldn't be happier. Every single Christmas tradition, he will do. From mistletoes to Christmas movies to Christmas sweaters, there's no "too much".

Lester will give tons of gifts. He most likely stole or found most of them somewhere but it's the thought that counts! And god isn't it adorable the way his eyes glimmer with joy when you unpack a new plushie he bought.

🍬 Brahms Heelshire 🍬

Brahms and his parents always celebrated Christmas. Always.

So after he had to hide in the walls, he missed it incredibly. The food, the nice atmosphere, the music, Brahms cried himself to sleep during those days because he missed the familiar sensation of being with his loved ones.

With you, he has the whole house and a giant mountain of money to make his dreams come true.

Not only does he want a giant dinner (even if you're just two people), he'll force you to watch Christmas movies with him and the gingerbread house obviously can't be missing.

He has a few ideas that are less family-friendly.

Come on Y/N, why don't you want to bake the cookie dough while wearing nothing underneath the apron? He thinks it's a good idea.

He demands presents. It doesn't really matter what you gift him but you have to gift him something or he'll be disappointed. After all, he has been a good boy, hasn't he?

Christmas is a nice excuse to just snuggle in front of the fireplace with some tea while you read his favorite book. For once he isn't that strict with the chores, it's Christmas after all. You should just relax.

[myersmikey]

First Snowfall (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original post date: December 24th, 2021

Summary: You and Michael play in the snow.

Warnings: None? Michael is a little shithead but not in a bad way lol

A/N: This idea wormed its way inside my mind on Christmas Eve and would not leave until I wrote it, edited it, and posted it all on the same day. It's adorable. Michael is also ambiguous here so you can imagine whichever version of Michael you want (OG, RZ, 2018, etc.) Also I think it's funny to imagine the neighbors staring out their window like 👁👄👁 at the neighborhood serial killer having a snowball fight with their neighbor lol /j.

Word count: 1.4k

"Wow!" you said, staring starry-eyed out the window. Breath fogging up the glass that displayed the first big snowfall of the year. Blankets of white fluffy snow covered everything in sight.

"It's really coming down out there, Michael! Did you see?" You turned your head around toward your quiet boyfriend. The only sort of response you received was a soft grunt.

"Do you like snow, Mikey?" You asked as you made your way over to where he was sitting. Michael shrugged, appearing disinterested. Tilting your head to the side slightly, you spoke again. "When's the last time you ever did anything in the snow? Like build a snowman!" Michael sighed before signing 'When I was a kid.'

You gasped in a fake exaggerated way. "No way! It's been that long? Well, we've got to change that." You reached down and grabbed his arm and gave a tug. "Come on!" The man blinked at you from behind his mask, unmoving. "Come onnnn, Mikeyyyy! Let's go play! I'm bored." You whined, knowing it would annoy him. He usually would give in to your pouting though. You tugged on his arm with all of your weight and much to your dismay, he wasn't budging an inch. You knew he was probably smirking under that mask too, that jerk.

"Fine. I'll go by myself." You huff and go over to your closet and pull out your coat, gloves, and hat. After you dressed yourself up for the cold, you made your way the back door. As you opened it you made it a point to shout "I'll just be out here having fun without you!" Before shutting the door behind you. The snow made that satisfying crunching sound under your shoes and you instantly smiled. You looked up and took in the sight. Big fluffy snowflakes fell from the gray sky with no end in sight. The bare trees had frost on them, and icicles hung from every house in the area. Illinois was no stranger to snow and winter, but it feels like it's been too long since the snow has been this pretty. It usually gets nasty really quickly.

It only took a few minutes before you felt that familiar feeling of being stalked. Michael was watching you and you knew it. It was time to make him see what he was missing out on. So, you reached down and began to roll snow into a ball until it got bigger and bigger...

-------------‐----------

Some time passed and you stepped back to admire your snowman. Complete with sticks for arms and a scarf, he was looking fantastic. You didn't quite have a carrot for the nose, but that's okay-... and suddenly an icicle was impaling your snowman's chest. What the heck? You peeked around your now deceased snowman to see Michael standing there staring at you. "Really Michael!? You had to make this guy another one of your victims! He's been alive for like... two minutes!" You shouted, putting your hands on your hips. Michael stared at you, and even with the mask on, you knew those eyes were saying "Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?"

You turned toward your fallen friend and gave him a light pat. "I'm sorry, buddy. But I'll avenge you." You whispered to it. Grabbing a chunk of the snow off of the poor snowman, you rolled it into a ball and grinned and threw it as hard as you could at Michael.

Splat!

The snow hit him right in the face, well mask, and... oh. Oh no.

He wiped the snow off and you could now see that the snow got right into the eyeholes of the mask and is trapped between his skin and the mask. Oh my God. He was going to kill you for this. But you couldn't stop your howling laughter.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead a hundred times over by now. You kept laughing until you saw him tug his mask off. Your laughter faded as you took in his appearance. It wasn't an everyday occurrence that you got to see his face, much less in the daylight like this. But each and everytime it happened, you were reminded at how handsome he was. Then you saw the snow dripping down that handsome face and you had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing again. That is, until he tossed his mask down in the snow and stepped forward to the snowman and yanked out the icicle. "Oh no..." you whispered. You made him mad and now you were about to feel the same consequences as your poor snowman.

You turned around and took off running. There wasn't much of anywhere to hide in your backyard, but you had to get away from the Wrath of Michael Myers. "Shit fuck damn" you spat out every curse word imaginable as you bolted behind your shed and hid. You heard the sound of footsteps coming toward the shed. 'What do I do...?' You thought to yourself, heart hammering in your chest. You spotted the bush that was beside the shed and ducked behind there, hoping that Michael wouldn't notice you. The crunching sounds of footsteps grew louder before stopping right in front of the bush you were at. Clamping your gloved hand over your mouth to conceal your heavy breathing, you waited in still silence until the footsteps walked off. You released your mouth and sighed in relief. You realized that your relief came far too early when you felt something grab your ankle and drag you out and pull you up to your feet faster than you could process what was going on. A cold hand clamped down on your mouth before you could scream and it was then that you accepted your fate.

Your screams of terror were muffled behind the large hand over your mouth as you felt it. The icicle being shoved down the back of your shirt, against your skin and under your shirt and coat. The sudden cold was enough to make you squirm while Michael's strong arms held you in place. Oh, it's on now, jerk...

You licked the palm of his hand, causing him to pull his hand away from your mouth. It gave you just enough time to worm your way out of his grasp and fall forward. Grabbing a handful of snow, you stood up and rolled it into a ball. You spun on your heel and whipped it at him and he stepped out of the way just in time. You groaned and made another snowball before throwing it at him and hitting his chest successfully. You then ran behind the other side of the shed to catch your breath and grab some more snow. It was too quiet. You peeked around the corner and saw nothing. Was he still just standing there?

You heard a whistle above you and looked up. Michael was crouched up on the roof of the shed, a smirk on his face, and arms full of snow. "You wouldn't..." you said before you were knocked backward and all you could see was white. You stood up, brushing the snow from your face as he jumped down from the roof. "You sneaky, quiet son of a-" you were cut off by another snowball hitting your face. You finally just started grabbing fistfuls of snow and hurling them in his direction, not even bothering to roll them into balls anymore.

You ran at him and hugged him, actually managing to knock the man off of his feet. You both fell down into the cushion of the snow. You looked at each other, faces red from the cold, hair wet. It was quiet for a moment as you both just looked at each other. You were the first to crack a grin and then let out a giggle. And then you both exploded with laughter. It's been a long time since you've had this much fun. You glanced at him again, as he laughed harder than you'd ever see him laugh before. Hell, the most you've seen him do is snicker. And you realized how much you love this man. "Michael." His name slips off your tongue and he turns to look at you. You want to say those three words. You've known for a while that you've loved him, but neither of you have said the words to each other. You leaned down and gently kissed his cheek. Perhaps you'll tell soon enough. For now, you're happy with how things are.

"Come on, let's go inside. I'll make some hot cocoa."

[quickspinner]

Meme’ing on along

I blame @19thsentry-blog for tagging me in this. Also I called in reinforcement to help me pick fics because I am indecisive as hell. 😂

Rules: Pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or a few), and share it! Then tag people!

You know I gotta make @verfound and @livrever suffer along with me, aaaand how about @haphira​ and @nerdypanda3126 too 😁

Okay here we go. I’m gonna start off with a Dragon Age fic just for the hell of it and the rest will be mlb.

To Those Who Wait | 4,638 words | Oneshot | Dragon Age Inquisition (Cullavellan)

“You won’t,” Cullen told her, taking her hand again. He was finding it hard to stop touching her, making sure she was real, though he certainly didn’t want to pressure her with his presence. She hadn’t pulled away yet. “Mia–I told her, about you. About–my feelings for you.” Maker’s breath, he hadn’t meant to bring that up so soon, but she didn’t look away when he said it, nor pull away her hand. He took heart from that. “You don’t have anything to worry about as far as that.”

Her smile grew, just slightly. “That’s good,” was all she said, but his pulse jumped.

“You must be tired,” he said quickly, before he could do anything foolish. “And I’m filthy. I’ll leave you to rest and…I’ll see you at dinner, then?”

She nodded, and he thought he saw a faint color grow on her cheeks.

Snake in the Silk | 3,932 words | Series: I’ll Never Not Know You: First Meetings | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

“This is the weirdest fucking day,” he muttered under his breath, carefully moving more underthings aside and trying not too hard to think about what other kinds of things a lady might keep in her underwear drawer. Ugh, why did the damn drawer have to be so deep—wait, was that—

Luka picked up a distractingly pretty blue pair decorated with black ribbons, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar tip of Sass’s tail sticking out. “Got you, you little shit.”

Killer Combo | 60,783 words | Oneshot | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

Luka snorted, folding his arms. “Color me shocked. If only someone had warned you—oh wait. I did. Repeatedly.”

Jean pressed his lips together for a moment, clearly trying to keep his temper. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “We should have listened to you. We should have trusted you. Casey’s been miserable ever since. We’re truly, honestly sorry.”

"Good,” Luka grit out. “Thank you.”

“So you’ll play with us?” Jean asked, motioning vaguely towards the state, and Luka scoffed.

“No. Now get out of my face. I don’t want to see any of you and if I catch you even near my sister again, I got no problem going to jail for a night, you understand?”

Plausible Deniability | 4,679 words | Oneshot | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

The piping voice fell into place right about when he woke up enough to remember the night before. Luka groaned and pulled his covers over his head, wishing he could just curl up and die. He really did want to go back in time and kick drunk Luka’s ass. What had he been thinking, getting that drunk and letting Marinette bring him home alone?

Pink Frosting | 4,679 words | Series: Pink Frosting (Derbynette) | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

“I love it,” Luka said, taking the helmet and inspecting it. “Roller derby’s got a reputation for being sassy and aggressive and yet you’re bringing your own sweetness into it. I really love it.” He gave the helmet back and Marinette put it back on her desk. “So how do you actually play? I really don’t know much.”

He sat back and listened to her go on about bouts and jams and jammers and blockers , trying to follow but mostly just enjoying how excited she was. By the time she finally wound down, it was time for him to leave, but he was happy to see her enthusiasm restored.

“You’re really going to come to the bout?” Marinette asked, big blue eyes turned up to him as he stood to go.

“Absolutely. And I won’t have a single bandaid in my pockets, I promise.” He winked, and she laughed, and the sound followed him down the stairs and kept him smiling even as the bakery faded from sight behind him.

Triple Threat | 12,249 words | Oneshot | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

Viperion looked at her sharply but was blinded by the light of her power activating. He took a step back as she glowed brightly, and when he could see again, his partner was gone. He looked down to see the Multimice grinning up at him. One of them waved him down. Viperion knelt and put his hand down. One of the Multimice climbed onto his palm and he lifted her to his face. “I’ll stay with you,” she said cheerfully, hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.”

Viperion chuckled. “Welcome aboard.” He brought his hand up to his shoulder and the Multimouse hopped up.

Under the moon, by the sea... | 3,965 words | Oneshot | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

The movie was just as cheesy and silly as Marinette remembered, and Luka’s whispered asides had Marinette burying her face in his shoulder to muffle her laughter. Fortunately, the theater was not exactly packed, and no one made any effort to shush them. They both doubled over with barely suppressed laughter as Jagged threw himself dramatically into a mudslide down a cliff in the rain after his crocodile co-star, only to land up to his ears in a lake of muddy water at the bottom.

“Back before the age of green screens,” Luka snickered in her ear. “How many times do you think they had to do that take?”

The image of Jagged flinging himself repeatedly into the mud because the first take hadn’t been rock ‘n roll enough sent them both into another fit of giggles.

Pink Envelopes |  5,050 words | Series: I’ll Never Not Know You: First Meetings | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

Luka tried to remind himself as he walked to the T&S Bakery that he knew absolutely nothing about his mystery neighbor, and he shouldn’t be nervous. If he was lucky, he’d make a new friend. If he wasn’t, he’d buy them a coffee, make awkward small talk for half an hour, and go home and hide under his covers until he didn’t feel like dying of embarrassment anymore for being so incredibly wrong and his next hit song would be about shattered illusions and the stupidity of self-indulgent fantasies and he’d have to laugh awkwardly in interviews while trying desperately to avoid telling the truth of his inspiration.

Luka took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, acknowledging the thought and letting it go with his breath like his therapist had taught him. 

He shrugged his shoulders slightly to resettle his leather jacket, and then pushed open the door. 

Hey Gorgeous | 36,703 | Series: I’ll Never Not Know You: First Meetings | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

See?” he said softly, showing it to her. It was intimate, even a little sexy, but not at all explicit, soft with the morning light, her hair mussed and spread across the pillow, his cheek leaning on her temple, both wearing still sleepy expressions of contentment. The dark mark on Luka’s collarbone, visible just over the curve of her shoulder, and his eyes looking right at the camera, intense where hers were soft, made her body warm. “Can I keep it?” he begged. Marinette pursed her lips, considered the worst case scenario, and decided she wouldn’t die of embarrassment if, say, her parents saw it. It looked kind of like a sexy perfume ad, actually.

“Y-you c-can keep it,” she sighed. “B-but j-just for us.”

“Promise,” he said, saving the photo. Then he kissed her neck in a spot he knew was ticklish, making her scrunch her shoulder up.

“L-luka,” she laughed, and he leaned further and kissed her cheek.

“Can I keep these too?” he grinned, handing her the phone.

Indelible | 48,577 words (and counting) | Multichap | Miraculous Ladybug (Lukanette)

Luka had to admit there was something admirable about the level of audacity necessary to turn your worst trait into your brand.

Jagged might be an artist and he might be the greatest rock ‘n roll star of his generation, but a “pure” artist? Not even close. It was moments like this morning when he was reminded that Jagged was a businessman as well as an artist, and that all his lip-service to the purity of the emotion he put into his work was—well. It wasn’t all bullshit. Jagged’s songs were emotional, it was something Luka had always admired about his work, but he’d walked away from the meeting this morning feeling like Jagged’s tears must be shaped like tiny dollar signs.

[restless-witch]

Better Not Wake The Baby - Part 2.... ish - The Spring...ish

Fic Summary: Jaskier isn't helpless. He'd been a shepherd before. He'd killed a wolf before. He'll slaughter again if that's the price of freedom.

Rated M: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, really gross attitudes towards omegas, abusive relationships, references to fucking

This fic was current up and to part 17 of Honey - Sometimes the Tunnel Only Leads to Darkness and after Better Not Wake The Baby- Winter. You'll enjoy this fic more if you’ve read them <3

Witcher 3 + Netflix / This part is rated M / Incomplete

Make your moan of your lot in life Split your mind half crazy Gouge your eyes with a butter knife But it better not wake the baby

-The Decemberists -  What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World

hey y’all, I’m what the kids call trash going through a dry spell of writing... it’s slow going on both my fics but I wanted to share a bit of the next chapter of Better Not Wake The Baby. The way I’ve been structuring it in my mind has been on the four seasons plus another winter- as I’ve plotted it out now, Winter (last posted- 3.6k) is pretty much complete. Spring has swollen up to 5.6K already and I expect it to probably double. Summer should be short- I’ve only got 300 words written and I really don’t expect much to happen. The second Winter is 5.6k and will also probably double.

Below is a little bit of spring that I can share without spoiling anything or a major cliffhanger and below THAT are just little bits of the other seasons for you to chew on :)

Thanks @oldandkinky for letting me play with Honey-verse!!! It’s such an enticing place to explore

Spring

Lambert leaves, then Eskel and the last storms, and Vesemir starts calling Geralt down to sow the gardens with manure. During the day, Vesemir sends Jaskier out to forage for the herbs and mushrooms he can identify; at night, Jaskier tucks himself between Geralt's legs with a book. He learns to suppress the shudders as Geralt's hands start to play with his cunt and widens his sprawl as he ruts against Geralt's cock. Jaskier clutters his mind with the sources of alchemy ingredients and sweetens his scent with memories of blackberries and fields of rye and the freedom of ambling a flock across Lettenhove. Geralt softens even more as arid misery gives way to the tedium of tallow and rosemary.

After what's certainly the last frost, radishes already unfurling from the hard ground, Vesemir and the goats are the only ones to see them off.

Vesemir gifted Geralt with all the little conveniences of a mated couple; a larger bedroll and kettle to share when they made camp, an ornamental medallion Jaskier might wear if he behaved back from the days Witchers did have sweethearts on the path, a new ledger to record their travels.

Geralt has packed up Roach and Vesemir has loaded Jaskier down with a novice witcher's kit; a gambeson and leather cuirass to keep him safe from bandits, a brick of honey and nuts and figs to supplement their field rations, a copy of their novitiate's songbook to help him remember the sprawling roads and names of beasts and plants.

The descent from Kaer Morhen is worlds easier than before: they bypass The Killer entirely, taking the smoother paths long since opened up by early spring slides and storms.

The two pick a path through the Blue Mountains through Kaedwan down into Aedirn.

During the day, on the Path, Jaskier croons his way into a modicum of freedom. The days come in starts and stops: unlike the grueling endless days of the last fall. The day Geralt taught him to sew up his thigh is a breath, the day Geralt presents him with a crown of aphrodisiac flowers stretches on endlessly, and the regular fruitless tupping beside the road becomes a dull hum threading the weeks together.

Since Jaskier proposed "courting", they've struck a number of bargains; though Jaskier isn't sure Geralt would think of them that way. Geralt stops taking the fertility treatments, holding off when Jaskier gently asks about the strain of heavy pregnancy or a newborn taking the path to the keep. Jaskier begins learning songs from tavern bards and the novitiate's songbook and practices singing for the hour after they lunch.

He sings to the boundless skies- swallows his envy of the thrushes and spits out his own song of gliding through the spring.

Summer

He can't control the groan that escapes him when a foot nudges into his back: he looks up into a pair of golden eyes and knows he is absolutely completely fucked because if there was one thing the Witchers of Kaer Morhen could agree on- it's that the Cats are fucked in the head and not above blood sport. he doesn't feel fear, more like a bit of humor, because he'd hardly expected to make it this far and he's waiting for his death like a punchline.

Fall

"It used to be a treat for the novices to be taken down the mountain," Vesemir says lightly, "and with your temperament, I imagine you'll want to pick between millet and oats." 

Jaskier snorts. He does- he can't stand oats.

They make it to the hamlet in the late afternoon and it's almost evening before they find a house with spare supplies to barter: a merchant is due to make his last trip of the season soon, but the locals are reluctant to turn over their cushioning after the augur predicted an early freeze. Jaskier goes into the last house alone at twilight and drives a hard bargain. Vesemir fails to hide a fond glance when Jaskier slips the fat purse of crowns back into his breeches and wordlessly starts filling Wielki's packs with salt, hops, yarrow, slippery elm, saltpetre, and other provisions. He went back to the homestead and came out with two sacks of millet.

Winter

"What's my real name Geralt?" the pace of stabbing quickened, the grooves on the table between his fingers deepening as Jaskier's voice became a jab as well, "You saw it on the papers I signed when Nenneke took Essi in her care. What's my name?" Geralt didn't answer. Jaskier rammed the dagger where his palm had been only seconds before, fast enough Aiden nearly dove for a bandage, "Call me whatever the fuck you like then- it doesn't make a difference to you."

.

A/N- kind words and messages are always appreciated <3 thank you for reading

Rough and tumble ragged drafts on tumblr here: Actual Fic Better Not Wake The Baby

This fic is based on OldandKinky’s Honey-verse and you can also find them here: Honey-verse on Ao3 and OldandKinky on Ao3

and if you like my writing, I’ve also got “Varieties of Exile”

[madness-maybe-managed]

Deserted Winter Night:

Summary: When SiZhui falls ill, Lan Wangji tells him the story of Sankt Zichen and Sankt XingChen of the Deserted Winter Night, history and legend’s two most tragic Saints.

━──┉┉┅┄┄┈ ✮ ┈┄┄┅┉┉────━

Stories were what cemented SiZhui’s faith in Saints. Tales of the noble Sheng, as they were called in Shu. Stories Lan Wangji told him at night to help him sleep when SiZhui, a young child, was plagued by fevers and the nightmares that accompanied them.

“Sheng Zichen,” Lan Wangji would murmur as the snow fell outside SiZhui’s window. “The silent frost. Sheng XingChen,” he would nod to the moon, allowing its light to spill over his features and onto the bed. “The blind moon.”

“Who were they?” SiZhui whispered, his voice feeble but his mind eager. It didn’t matter that Lan Wangji was a man of a few words to others—for his son, he could tell stories as well as he could play the guqin.

Lan Wangji sighed, looking away from the snow to brush his son’s hair from his forehead and lay a cool cloth to burning skin.

“They are the greatest tragedy of the world.” Lan Wangji answered after a moment. “Sheng Hua Cheng and Sheng Xie Lian, the greatest love story, the Saints of overcoming obstacles and eternity. You remember them?”

SiZhui nodded. Lan Wangji folded his hands. “Sheng Zichen and Sheng XingChen are like them, a pair of Saints, but their story does not have a happy ending. They are the Saints of mourning, of that which is lost to winter. Huāng dōng yè de Zǐchén shèngrén hé XīngChén shèngrén; Sankt Zichen and Sankt XingChen of the Deserted Winter Night.”

“What happened to them?” SiZhui asked, entranced by the name.

“They were once two mighty Etherealki.” Lan Wangji raised his hands, and at his command, snow swept into the room and hovered in a swirl, forming a star before flying back out. “Xiao XingChen was a Tidemaker. Song Zichen was a Squaller.”

“Like you and Grand-Uncle!” SiZhui grinned. “Sheng XingChen was like Uncle Xichen, long ago, right?”

Lan Wangji’s lips turned up slightly, and he fixed the covers. “Right. We looked up to them, your uncle and I. I wanted to be a powerful Etherealnik who could control the snow like Song Zichen. Your uncle admired Xiao XingChen greatly, because he was exactly like the moon. The tides bowed to his will the way subjects bow to a king.”

The word ‘king’ made SiZhui curious. “Which king did they serve?” he asked. “Were they part of the Grisha army?”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “They served no king, fought in no army. They were like the elements the commanded, coming and going to help those in need, who wished to establish a sect based on not blood ties or abilities, but ideals. They were wanderers who did not care about who had power, only who needed theirs. Unfortunately,” he sighed, his light eyes looking regretful, “it would later be what caused their end.”

SiZhui attempted to sit up, eager to listen, but Lan Wangji gently pushed him back down.

“Patience, and I will tell you.”

As SiZhui obediently tucked himself into his covers again, eyes shining with curiosity, Lan Wangji straightened, closing his eyes to think, and then opened them.

“Xiao XingChen was the student of the immortal Baoshan Sanren, and people say he descended from her mountain to travel the world and help those in need. Song Zichen came from a temple, a follower of The Path. Song Zichen and Xiao XingChen travelled together, helping those in need. They asked for no payment and did not walk away from those who were suffering.

“One day, a man came to Xiao XingChen for help. His family had been murdered and he wanted to find the criminal. Xiao XingChen was a kind soul, and eventually he tracked down the killer, an Alkemi named Xue Yang. Xiao XingChen turned him over for trial and execution, but the man suddenly recanted his statement, even though Xiao XingChen had found the culprit. The man refused to explain further, leaving behind Xue Yang and Xiao XingChen. Xue Yang warned Xiao XingChen not to forget him and that they would meet again. Xiao XingChen took no heed of the words and left.”

“So what happened?” SiZhui asked.

Lan Wangji looked back at the window, studying the moonlight as it fell on the snow.

“The temple Song Zichen belonged to was attacked, its inhabitants slaughtered and its floors soaked in blood. Xue Yang had massacred Baixue temple, and within it, he poisoned Song Zichen’s eyes. ‘Tell Xiao XingChen this is a gift from me!’ Xue Yang said to Song Zichen, leaving him for dead. When Xiao XingChen discovered him, Song Zichen was almost gone. Despairing with grief, Song Zichen told Xiao XingChen not to meet with him again.”

“Then?” SiZhui breathed, fascinated.

“Xiao XingChen broke his vow to Immortal Baoshan Sanren, taking Song Zichen to her mountain and begging for him to be healed. Xiao XingChen carved out his own eyes for Song Zichen, then left the mountain. Song Zichen recovered and left as well, but they did not reunite.”

SiZhui frowned, dissatisfied. “Why wouldn’t they reunite? Weren’t they close?”

“They were, but wounds are wounds.” Lan Wangji soaked the cloth again and returned it to SiZhui’s forehead. “Later, Xiao XingChen had been found in a small town called Yi City, living with a young otkazat’sya girl named A-Qing and another young man. Xiao XingChen had been hunting fierce corpses, but what he didn’t know was that the young man whom he had saved from death was really Xue Yang, who kept himself hidden from Xiao XingChen even after he was healed. Xue Yang used corpse powder to poison the villagers and cut out their tongue, tricking Xiao XingChen into killing humans instead of fierce corpses.”

SiZhui’s eyes were wide with shock. “What?” he gaped. “He made him kill people?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“What happened to Song Zichen?” SiZhui asked.

“He wandered the world searching for Xiao XingChen to apologise for their falling out. When he arrived at Yi City, he confronted Xue Yang, who revealed to him Xiao XingChen’s sacrifice. Stunned by this, Song Zichen was caught off-guard, and Xue Yang poisoned him with corpse powder and cut out his tongue. Alerted by the corpse powder, Xiao XingChen unknowingly drove his sword through Song Zichen’s heart. When Song Zichen was stabbed, the winds stopped and the weather became colder, as if the sky had stopped breathing.”

SiZhui’s mouth fell open, his eyes twice their size. This was not a children’s tale anymore, but he needed to know what happened. “And then?” He tugged on Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

“Song Zichen became a fierce corpse. A-Qing, having seen the ordeal, tried to convince Xiao XingChen to leave, but before she succeeded, Xue Yang arrived. Xiao XingChen confronted him, stabbing Xue Yang in the gut, but before he could kill him, Xue Yang revealed that Xiao XingChen had killed the villagers and Song Zichen. Distraught, Xiao XingChen took his own life. People say that at that moment, the seas churned as if in agony, and the moonlight seemed to spill as if weeping, while Yi City was covered in shadows.”

“What happened to Xue Yang?” SiZhui asked.

“He remained in Yi City for several years, until finally, he was killed by Song Zichen, who had managed to break free of the control Xue Yang had put him under, and regained control of his summoning powers. Legends say he became a Shadow Summoner after reawakening. Xiao XingChen’s soul was contained in a pouch, so Song Zichen swore to travel the world and exorcise evil with him, hoping that he would return. And if he did, he would tell Xiao XingChen that he was not at fault.”

Lan Wangji looked out the window at the nighttime scenery.

“Song Zichen, the distant snow and bitter frost, silent grief. Xiao XingChen, the bright moon and gentle breeze, blind justice. Sheng Zichen, patron saint of those seeking a reprieve. Sheng XingChen, patron saint of those who wish to help. Together, saints of mourning. Huāng dōng yè de Zǐchén shèngrén hé XīngChén shèngrén; Sankt Zichen and Sankt XingChen of the Deserted Winter Night.”

SiZhui looked out the window at the night sky, admiring the moonlight coating the fresh snow, the way the frost danced in the breeze.

“When you are wandering, pray to Sankt Zichen and Sankt XingChen,” Lan Wangji said gently. “The moon is blind, so we may find what we seek. The frost is silent, so we may hear what lies around us. For those who wish to help others in this world, A-Yuan, there will always be a reprieve. In the shadows of the winter night, A-Yuan, you will never be alone. Do you understand?”

SiZhui nodded, smiling. “I understand, Father.”

Lan Wangji smiled and smoothed over the covers. “Sleep, now. I will see you in the morning.”

SiZhui’s dreams that night were filled with swirling snow and frost, of bright moonlight and breeze, the way oceans and wind danced together. Shadows covered his mind as two swords flew in sync, perfectly complementing one another.

‘Shuang Hua and Fu Xue uphold righteousness

Stay hidden in a melancholic dream

The knocking of the bamboo sounds like crying, my life is in vain

Leaving behind a lonely city with nowhere to go’

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

twenty-five and over || tom holland x reader

a/n: what is my work if not slightly belated! happy birthday tom, here’s a little something for you all to celebrate. I am trying to get round to reading and sharing some of the fics that I really love, try to create more love between creators and their work - hit me up with some of your favourite tom writers who I should check out! would love to hear from you! as always, stay safe and big love to you all xo 

word count: 1213 warnings: fluff fluff fluff unless you’re also having a quarter life crisis then this could be triggering (but all very playful) summary: your boyfriend, Tom, is stressed at the very idea of turning 25 and what this next stage of life means

“I’m old.”

You looked up blearily from the kitchen island where you were leaning, scrolling on your phone. It was early morning and you were still half asleep, the surprising warmth of the UK weather having kept you up all night.

“Tom, you’re not old.”

“I’m old.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. Y’know they didn’t even ID me last night...I always get ID’d.” He mumbled into the couch cushions.

“You hate it when they ID you! Plus, you always forget your ID anyway.”

Your boyfriend was lying on his front, sprawled out on the sofa. His curly hair only just visible in amongst the cushions.

“That’s not the point, it’s the principle of it!” You could hear the deep sigh coming from the couch and put a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. He’d been at this for the past 20 minutes or so.

“Y’know I now have to tick the ‘twenty-five and over’ box when I sign up to things? Like as if I didn’t feel bad about it already, now I get regular reminders?!”

“I mean, on the bright side...at least you’re not the ‘over’ just yet - because then we really would have a problem.”

You swiftly dodge a rogue cushion that was thrown in your direction, and watch as it hit the fridge before falling to the floor with a light thud.

“So what? You agree? You think I’m old too!”

He lifted his head briefly to scowl at you, before planting it face down into the cushions again.

You abandoned your phone on the counter, padding across the wooden floors in your socks and one of Tom’s oversized t-shirts. You kneel on the rug in front of the sofa and rest your chin on the edge.

“Oi, movie star.”

You talk softly, knowing that Tom was sporting a killer headache, his hangover being the very thing that had started this whole conversation.

He moved his head to the side to look at you, pouting.

“What?”

You reached out a hand, tangling your fingers through his soft brown curls placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re being silly. You’re not old. But you are the birthday boy, who I might add, is in very high demand today.”

He sighs again, shifting around to lie on his back.

“Can’t I just stay with you?” He drawled out dramatically.

You laugh, as he moved up giving you space to sit on the edge of the sofa. You shake your head, hair falling out of the messy bun you’d put it in last night.

“Nope. You’ve gotta visit your parents before they leave for Scotland, plus Paddy will want to see you. And then you have golf booked with the boys. You love golf.”

“I don’t want to go. I’ll cancel and rearrange.”

He slid his arms around your torso, squeezing him into your side as he pulled you down to him. You laughed. You adored this side of Tom. He wasn’t so willing to show it off publicly, keeping your relationship away from prying eyes as much as possible but in private he was a massive soft touch, constantly craving affection and attention from you.

“No you won’t, you’ll love it when you’re there. You just have to survive without me until three.”

He mumbled his reluctant acceptance into your hair, his nose sliding down the side of your face as he nestled into you. Delicate kisses littered your eyebrow, then your cheek until he made it to your mouth.

“What was that for?”

“Because it’s my birthday, and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You take a moment to just lie there, tangled together. You let yourself enjoy the clenched sun kissed muscles that were wrapped around you, as soft warm breaths exhaled against your cheek. If it were possible to stay like this all day you would. The curtains billowed in the tiny breeze that blew in, the large bay windows glistening with fragments of golden sunlight as the world slowly woke up.

You kept a hand playing with a coiled lock of his hair, twisting it through your fingers, watching Tom’s eyelashes flutter with sleep.

“C’mon Tom, before you fall asleep on me.”

You placed your own kisses on either side of his temples, then his forehead and along his slightly crooked nosed before regretfully sliding yourself out from his embrace.

He groaned at the loss of you. He covered his eyes with one arm, blocking out the bright sun and held the other out to you.

“I’m old, remember? Help me up?”

You laughed.

“Nice try hot shot, up you get.”

Closing his eyes and giving a deep sigh, he rolled dramatically off the sofa and to his feet.

“See,” you said cheerily, “an old person wouldn’t be able to do that as gracefully as you just did. And with a hangover too!”

You heard him mumbling to himself as he shuffled his way through the apartment, bedroom door shutting with a thud behind him.

////

“ - happy birthday dear Tom, happy birthday to you.”

You sung sweetly, placing the homemade cake with purple frosting on the table in front of Tom. He grinned up at you, tapping his knee and threading his fingers between yours as he pulled you into his lap.

“When did you make this?!”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, counting out the 25 flickering candles and admiring your handiwork as he traced patterns on your bare thigh. You’d just been for a romantic birthday dinner at one of Tom’s favourite Japanese restaurants in the city before coming back to yours for dessert.

You’d spent your afternoon manning your work phone whilst simultaneously baking a surprise birthday cake for Tom, piping out the happy birthday message in swirly blue icing.

“I love it. Thank you.” Tom went to blow out his candles when you quickly interrupted.

“Wait! You gotta make a wish.”

“What?”

“You have to close your eyes and make a wish.”

You watch as he closes his eyes, pauses for a couple moments and then leans forwards slightly, tightening his hands around your waist.

Opening his eyes, he blew out the candles, each one dancing above the melting wax before disappearing with an exhale.

“Do you wanna know what I wished for?”

He caresses your cheek with his hand, brushing a thumb across the light pink blush dancing across your cheekbones.

“If you tell me it won’t come true. How about I share something with you instead?

He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, tilting his head and brought his ear to your lips so you could whisper into it. Your eyes connected with each other instantly, stares intense.

“Oh really?” He questions, as your blush deepens.

Before you had a chance to realise what was happening, Tom stood up from the chair, scooping you up bridal-style as you clung to his shoulders and neck. You let out a slight squeal at the sudden movement before letting out peals of laughter.

“Where are we going exactly?” You ask, running a finger over some of the perfect buttery frosting, dolloping a smidge onto the end of his nose.

Nudging doors open with his hip, still cradling you to his chest, he made his way over to the bedroom, lightly depositing you into the middle of the king sized mattress.

“I’m going to show you what 25 really looks like.”

[yeonjuns-anti-romantic]

When you watch scary movies and yell at the victims for falling down so much, you really don't know what it's like to be them. They fall over trees, lumps in the ground, or even their own feet or trip over things in their own home.

In your case it was a fallen limb you didn't see as you were only looking forward.

When you're the victim the only thing you hear is your own labored breathing and the sound of your heart in your ears. You don't hear the killer as they come after you or any of the little whimpers and gasps you're letting out.

You're only trying to survive.

Picking up yourself again, the earth smelled damp and rich as it was now clinging to your clothes and clotted to your knees and hands after falling down. Your feet kicked off to get you running again.

The lake. You had to get to the lake.

But, what then?

You can't swim.

Reaching the lake seemed to be the only logical goal, it was as if it was the end of the world, and also where you would survive if you could just reach it.

"Don't the rocks hurt your feet?!", you hear him laugh out behind you.

Yeonjun wasn't slowing down. Wasn't he tired? You were. Every breath now was sending a burning through your chest, your legs threatening to give out, the muscles quaking from your system being full of adrenaline.

You could feel the night air getting colder which meant you were headed in the right direction, you were getting closer to the water. The tree branches scratched at your face and hands, snagging any bare skin they could reach as you ran through the woods, your feet were bare as you lost your shoes somehow, honestly you didn't notice you were without them until Yeonjun yelled after you.

Finally you saw the edge of the woods, seeing the water shine under the dim light of the stars through the break in the trees. Veering to the right, sure that was the way to the pier, you ducked behind a tree for just a second, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

WHY WERE YOU STOPPING?!

Your brain was screaming at you.

HE'S GOING TO KILL YOU!

THE LAKE!

THE PIER!

RUN!

The sound of Yeonjun running started to slow down, you imagined how his breath was fogging in front of him in the night air. Summer was over and fall was coming to a close. Your own pajamas seemed too thin for this weather.

He was too close and unless you made it to the lake you were going to die.

Pushing away from the tree, as soon as you started running you heard him immediately running after you.

You broke through the trees, the ground changing under your feet, the grass biting at your ankles as frost was starting to cling to it. The water was beckoning to you and you wanted that icy touch more than the one chasing after you.

"No final girls allowed! It doesn't matter how much you run!", Yeonjun calls out.

Fuck you. That's all you could think. Fuck you. I won't let you win.

The dirt and grass under your feet changed to wood, the pier shaking as your feet thudded hard, running full speed.

What were you going to do? Jump in the water and drown or die of hypothermia?

The world tilted and you fell again, hitting the hard surface, you missed the feeling of falling into the dirt. The pier was slick with frost and after running for your life through the woods you know it was all for nothing.

You were done.

You lose.

Yeonjun walked to you confidently, you were shivering, not even bothering to get up now, trying to curl up as your hands clutched at your too thin pajamas.

He kneels in front of you, grinning and tilting his head, the knife in his hands was spotless, waiting to be baptized in your blood to dirty the steel, it was shining from the starlight on the lake.

"Tsk, tsk.", Yeonjun pouts, bringing the knife closer and laughing when you whimpered. "They say you should never play with your food but I don't believe in that.", he sighs.

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes met his and you knew he wasn't human, he was a monster.

Yeonjun was speaking but you frowned. Had you gone deaf from shock? You were clearly seeing his lips move but there was no sound. The hand that held the knife raised and you didn't move, couldn't move. Was he moving too fast or too slow? You kept watching his lips move but now you couldn't even hear the water of the lake around you.

The knife came down...

Your whole body flinched as you woke up, a gasp finally breaking the silence.

For a few seconds that felt like hours you couldn't move, your blurry eyes looking around your bedroom and you thought you were outside until the dream fully faded and your mind stopped playing tricks on you. Your hair was plastered to your forehead and you had to kick at your blankets to get them untangled from your legs, having trapped yourself in them in your sleep.

This wasn't the first nightmare you had about Yeonjun and it certainly won't be the last.

But, what do these dreams mean?