#which...is still terrifying when you think about it

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 10,073

—  warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity

—  author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️

Chapter IV: standing next to you

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.

Today is a special day.

It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.

The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.

Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.

Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.

As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.   

The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.

When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.

His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.

Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?

“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”

Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.

“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.

That’s weird.

However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.

“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.

The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.

The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.

“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.

The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.

“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.

You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.

“Could be better,” he coldly says.

The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.

 “This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”    

You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.

“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”

You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.

While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.

“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.

Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.

But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.

 “Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”

“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.

You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.

You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.

“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”

You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.

“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”

“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.

“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.  

“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”

“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”

You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine,” his voice softens.

The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.  

Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.

This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.

On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.    

“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.

You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.

Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship. 

This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.

With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.  

The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.

Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.

The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.

“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.

It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.

 “Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.

You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.

“Just relax,” she tells you.

Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.

The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.

For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.

Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.

The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.

The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.

The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.

“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.

This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.

“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”  

Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.

Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.

But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.

The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.

After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.

The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.

“You’re okay?” you ask.

His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.

You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.

“It is,” you offer him a little smile.

Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”

This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.  

Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.

Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.  

His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.

“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”

Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.

Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.

You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.

On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.

“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”

Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.

“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.

“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”  

The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.

After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.

An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.

You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.

“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”

The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.

Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks,” you say as you step out.  

“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.

For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.

“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”

The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”

Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”

The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.

“Please follow me,” he repeats.

Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.

Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.   

“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.

The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”

His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.

“Are you sure?”

His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.

The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.

Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.

For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.

With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.  

“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.

“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.

This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.

“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.   

“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.

As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.

In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.

“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”

“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”

Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.

“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.

Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.

A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.    

On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.

Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.

“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”

As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.

“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.

Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.

“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.

“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.

“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”

“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.

You need to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.

“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.

“Okay,” you reply.

For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.

Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.

“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”

You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.

“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.

After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.

Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.

It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.

Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.

“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.

The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.

“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.

Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.

“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.

“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”

This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.

“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”

“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.

By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.

“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”

This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.

“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”

 “So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.

“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.   

Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?

His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire.  The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.

You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say.

In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart.  It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.  

“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”

Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.

His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.   

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”

You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.

“You can do this,” he encourages you. “You’re so fucking strong.”

The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.   

“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.

Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.

“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.

“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”

“But I don’t,” you start crying.

Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.

Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.

After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.

“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.

“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.

Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.

“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”

His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.

“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”

His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.

“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

You nod with tears still running down your face.

“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.

Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.

Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.

“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.  

Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.  

“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.

He tilts his head, slightly confused.

“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”

Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.

His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.

“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.

Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.

“You’re so majestic,” you admit.

“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”

This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing. 

“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.

“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”

Is this man going to make you blush all night long?

“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.  

Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.

The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.

As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.

Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.

Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.  

As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.

You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.

When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”

You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.

“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.

The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.

For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.

“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.

The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.

“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”

You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.

“What do I need to do?” you ask.

“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”

Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.

You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.

For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.

The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”

For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.    

When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.

At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.

Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.

After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.

Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.

Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.

“Shit,” you mumble.

Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.

“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.

To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.

Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…

Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.

Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you. 

Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.

Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.

“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.

“Very,” you answer.

The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.

“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are.   And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

LIKE WHAT??

Weird black neglected!reader

The readers fears

The reader is honestly terrified of looking like Bruce; he is your biological father, but nothing scares you more than getting older and having some random reporter say you have Bruce's nose. You'd probably fall apart at the thought, like shellshock—scared it may not even be in facial features, just how you carry yourself. The confident, cocky stride is only found in Bruce Wayne, and somehow, you seem to have it. When asking Alfred to help tie your tie for a gala, and when he finished, he stepped back and chuckled, hiding his mouth behind his knuckles.

"Oh, young master, you're starting to look just like your father when he was younger."

This fact leaves you in shambles, and you decide not to wear a tie that night, fearing someone might say something. You'd rather look like your mother than him; your biggest fear is that you might lose all your mother's features as you get older, looking more and more like Bruce. At one point, your friends told you that you have Bruce Wayne's smirk, and you didn't smile for a week. You used to deny looking anything like your father—the tall stature? Hey, Jason's taller! The long nose? It's not that long! The cocky attitude? You're just confident, no biggie!

You remember when you were younger, way before going to Wayne Manor, you had asked your mother what your father looked like? It made her giggle.

"You little noisy wart! You wanna see what Daddy looks like? Fine, I'll show ya. Come here." She went to her bedroom, pulled out an old worn photo album, and sat back down on the couch. She picked you up and sat you on her lap. She flipped through the pages in the album. You saw pictures of you as a baby, photos of your momma in college. They looked really old, but then again, you were really young. Then she stopped on the page smack dab in the middle.

"There he is, your daddy," It was an old picture of your mom and Bruce. Your mom looked young, slimmer, and less wrinkled, and beside her was... the infamous Bruce Wayne: piercing blue eyes, killer jawline, and a genuinely soft smile. It made you frown; you didn't look anything like him. Your skin was darker, your hair wasn't straight but curly, and your eyes weren't blue. There were more photos of him and your mother; she looked so much happier, or maybe it was your imagination.

"Are you sure? I don't think I look anything like him," you huffed in disappointment, just for your mother to smile and pull you closer.

"I don't think so; you have his cute little nose." She tapped your nose, making you cover it with a pout.

"And his strong chin," she tickled under your chin, which made you giggle.

"His lovely ears," she tickled behind your ears and neck.

"And those pretty, chubby cheeks!" She pinched your cheeks, and you fell into a fit of laughter, just before she hugged you and nuzzled your cheek with her rounded nose.

"Darling, you are just as handsome, if not more beautiful, than your father."

"I want to look like you more!" you shouted, making your mother giggle.

But those soft and sweet memories faded to black, and the more you thought about it and stared at a picture of your "father," the more you hated it. You didn't want to look like him; you didn't want to resemble a deadbeat lunatic who frightened people in the dead of night. You didn't want to have his voice or his brains; you didn't want to be compared to him at all. You were your own person with your own dreams and ambitions, your own thoughts and ideas. You aren't a Wayne, never were, never will be; you’re an [Last Name] for life. Even if you changed your surname after being in Bruce's custody, you still weren't a Wayne; you're not perfect; you're not an acrobat. You're not strong and buff; you're not that great with gadgets. You didn't drop out of high school to fight crime, and you weren't smart enough to do that. You weren't trained by killer assassins or raised to fight. Your dad wasn't a supervillain, and you sure as hell weren't some metahuman who could shoot lights from his hands. You were just a little weirdo who liked video games, anime, and comics, who would stay up late controlling your Sims, who spent their free time making stupid mods for fun, who had crude humor and was kind of an asshole. That was who you were; you were your mother's child. You had your mother's face, her smile, her laugh, and her soft brown eyes.

"[Name], you have such fabulous fashion! Where did you get it from?" a reporter said, pointing a camera and a mic right at your face; it almost gave you whiplash.

"Thank you, ma'am. I got it from my momma," you said with a small smile as you pushed the camera out of your face.

You'll never look like Bruce, no matter who said so. Sometimes, it irks your soul down to the core when you hear Damian now call you "Sister," "Brother," or "His older sibling." First off, you all were half-siblings, and second, you never considered that little gonk as your little brother. Maybe when you were younger, you thought so, but you're not that delusional anymore, and you barely see Bruce as a father. You're willing to have a whole argument about it, but it.

"We have Wayne blood running through our veins, [Name]," the little hellspawn would say every time you tried to blow him off.

"The only blood running through my veins is my mother's," you snarled. You are nothing like them or like him.

[foreveia]

take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime

⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb

⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 5.7k

⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.

⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol

⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)

one.

There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:

She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.

She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.

She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.

You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.

Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.

“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”

You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.

It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.

“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.

You blink. “Oh.”

“He’s excited to meet you too.”

Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.

You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?

In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.

So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.

It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

two.

Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you. 

Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.

Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.

Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.

“I haven’t had sex in months.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.

“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.

“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”

“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.

“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”

“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”

“Yeah, and my life was changed.”

GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.

The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.

Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.

But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.

Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.

You’re definitely not still thinking about it.

Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”

“Seven,” Yachi corrects.

You point at her. “Exactly.”

Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.

“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”

Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”

“Right.”

Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

Is it ridiculous?

Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.

But still. That doesn’t mean anything.

You’re pretty sure.

“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.

Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”

Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”

Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”

“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”

You blink. “What?”

“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”

You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”

Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.

You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.

That would be insane.

three.

You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.

Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.

Not that you would, obviously.

Probably.

The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.

You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.

“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”

You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”

She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”

You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.

She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.

Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.

The man turns.

And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.

Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.

Good Dick Dude.

Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.

Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.

Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no. 

He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.

Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”

His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”

Your soul leaves your body.

Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.

You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.

You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”

You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.

Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.

God, you’re going to kill him.

“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”

You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”

“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”

Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.

Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”

Your entire body lights on fire.

Memorable.

Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.

Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.

Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”

Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”

You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”

You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.

Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”

Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.

But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.

And just like that, you are alone with him.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”

“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”

God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”

You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear��

You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.

Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.

four.

Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.

It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.

Which is not fair. It’s not fair at all, actually.

He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—

You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”

You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”

He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.

You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”

“See, now that hurts.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”

Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.

“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”

You freeze.

Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”

“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”

You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”

“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”

You stare at her, betrayed.

She smiles.

Oh, she planned this.

Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”

You drop it immediately.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.

And—oh, hell.

You forgot how solid he is.

His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.

“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.

You scowl. “I am relaxed.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”

You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.

He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.

He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”

“No, I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”

You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”

He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.

“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”

Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”

Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.

Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.

“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.

Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because that—that—is not fair.

That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.

It happens before you can even think about it.

Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.

Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.

It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.

One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.

It should not be this good.

It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.

But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world. 

And then you remember where you are.

You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.

And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.

Your stomach plummets.

Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”

Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.

And he is smiling.

The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.

You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.

Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.

five.

This is because of your dry spell.

Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”

Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”

You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”

You let out an incoherent noise of distress.

Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end. 

That is actually unacceptable.

“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”

“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”

His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”

“Yes.”

Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”

Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”

He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head. 

This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.

You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”

Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”

He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”

You blink. “Because it was.”

He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.

He grins. You decide that you hate him.

“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”

Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”

Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.

You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”

You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.

He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.

But you don’t.

And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.

You do want him to kiss you again.

You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

You scowl. “Say what?”

“That you want me to kiss you again.”

Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”

His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”

“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”

And then, he does.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.

When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.

Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.

You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”

Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”

“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him. 

You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”

“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”

Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Probably not.”

You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”

Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

You scowl. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”

You glare. “Stop counting.”

“No promises.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”

Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.

“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.

“Yeah?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”

Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”

“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.

He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”

You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”

Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”

You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.

⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Bad decisions // Quinn Hughes

No god, no religion … just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Quinn gets dragged to his girlfriends favourite bands concert despite it not being his favourite genre, but all it took was one song to change his mind.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, light fluff, pda (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating me.” I commented as I applied my lipstick, looking back at Quinn in my mirror.

I wasn’t wrong, but I also never expected him to pursue someone like me either. I wouldn’t really consider myself an “alternative” or “goth” girl though. I had black hair, tattoos and listened to heavier music but I preferred wearing aritzia sweat suits, doing Pilates and swapped wing liner out for clean girl make up. Still, I wasn’t the stereotypical girl that most hockey players go for. I remember the first time I met Quinn and how terrified I was to take my sweater off and expose my full sleeve. But much to my surprise, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Actually, any time I went to get a new tattoo he came with me and held my hand the entire time. It was a kind of intimacy I never thought I would find.


“I know, I’ve just never been to a concert like this. What if I get stuck in the middle of a mosh pit? Also how loud is it gonna be?”

I chuckled, zipping my boots up, “we’ll stay along the side, and yes, bring earplugs.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Well…” I trailed off, standing between his legs, leaning over and gripping onto his thighs. “If you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll reward you for it.”

Quinns head popped up as I peaked his interest. “What kind of reward?”


“Whatever you want.” I replied, hovering over his face. His lips ever so slightly brushing against mine, “but you need to be a good boy.”

“I’m about to become the biggest Bad Omens fan you’ve ever seen.”

About an hour later we arrived at the venue, my stomach was filled with butterflies from excitement. I’ve been a huge Bad Omens fan since 2016 and this was my first time seeing them post-covid. Their new album had been out for over a year and I played it so much I think Quinn was getting sick of it, but I would catch him mouthing the lyrics when he thought I wasn’t looking. This man tried to convince me he only listened to rap and country, but I firmly believe he didn’t want to admit he likes my music. I think he was paranoid his brothers or his teammates would tease him for it.

“I think you’d look really hot in that shirt.” 

Quinn and I waited in line at the merch booth before the concert, which was incredibly long. I saw a hoodie on display that I really liked so I wanted to see if they had it in my size. Another shirt caught my attention and I fully envisioned Quinn wearing it with his black Levis, a backwards hat and his white nikes. Just the thought of it made my knees buckle. 

“You think so?” Quinn leaned his head down to take a better look at the shirt in question. His cheek brushed against me, making his cologne hit my nose. It was the perfect mix of sage and cedar. I gently kissed his cheek, a bashful smile appeared on his face before he pressed his lips to my temple.


“Absolutely. I mean, you make everything look good.” I breathed, still reeling from his lips, “but I’d love to see you in that.”


“If you say so.” He smirked as it was our turn. He bought my hoodie for me along with a signed vinyl, and the shirt I told him to get. He sent me the most devilish grin as he tapped his credit card, knowing he just made me incredibly happy.

We made our way towards the stage, it was already pretty packed so I suggested we stood at the back near the sound booth. That way we would be out of the way of any crowd surfers or mosh pits because no one was dumb enough to fuck around expensive sound equipment. The concert was everything I hoped it would’ve been and more. The openers, I see stars and Erra put on incredible sets. Quinn looked like he seen a ghost when Erra came out, considering they were a little heavier than I see stars were, which made him look so adorable. Towards the end of their set, he was more impressed than scared which was a relief. Small smirks kept showing up on his face that he desperately tried to bite back but he couldn’t.

“You surviving?”

“Yeah, thank you for bringing me.” Quinn replied taking a sip of his drink, “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I mused, “we haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Before he could say anything, the lights went dark again and Bad Omens slowly made their way to the stage. My heart was rapidly racing in my chest as the boys opened up with Artificial Suicide. I immediately started jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics, completely forgetting about the world around me. Every now and then I would look up at Quinn, who just had the biggest smile on his face watching me enjoy myself.

Halfway through the concert, the band slowed the pace down, which came at the perfect time. My drinks were starting to hit me, making my head feel lighter than normal. The melody for Bad Decisions started and I immediately fell back into Quinn, becoming enamoured with how his breath crept along my neck.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone…

His arms wrapped around my stomach as he slowly swayed us back and forth to the beat, slow and reverberating. His skin felt warm to the touch as his chin rested gently on my shoulder. The low vibrations from the song along with the siren red lighting was stirring something up in me. My hips instinctively rolled into him, feeling overstimulated by every single sensation that took over my body. I knew Quinn wasn’t complaining, considering I felt him twitch through his jeans.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know is bad, bad decisions

Quinn brushed my hair away from my shoulder, slowly planting kisses on my exposed shoulder. Each kiss nonchalantly making their way up to my neck, then my jaw, causing goosebumps as his week old stubble grazed my skin. My eyes stayed shut, as his lips dragged all over me. An audible gasp left my mouth as he lightly nipped at my skin, gently sucking, leaving his mark on me.

“Turn around.”

I turned around, his arms found me again and bringing me closer to him. My hands found their home in his hair, enveloping his curls between my fingers. The soft aura of the red lights made his green eyes the perfect muse in this dark room. I was so lost in him that I forget where we were, the crowd completely melted away from us and it was almost as if we were the only ones here. He had that effect on me, he knew how to make me feel like I was his, and only his. His forehead pressed lightly against mine, lips hovering so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. The gap was finally closed, his mouth enveloping mine as I turned into putty in his hands. Our tongues danced together as the song was getting close to the end, but Quinn didn’t seem to care. He pressed me harder against his body, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me with such desperation. He never gave me any chances to come up for air, his lips stayed glued to mine as if my mouth gave him a new breath of life.

Bitter ends to the night, I'm along for the ride

Out of breath, out of time, everything has a price

We broke apart and the smallest smile curved at the side of his mouth as he trailed his thumb along my mouth. Neither of us realized the band started to play What do you want from me? shifting the energy in the venue. The music slowly filled my ears like I was underwater and coming up for air finally. I smiled back at him, I was in a complete state of euphoria.

“Okay you win.” Quinn said into my ear as I gripped onto his shirt to keep my composure. “I definitely just found my new favourite song.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I mused as I had a lightbulb moment, “we need to get you into the pit.”

“Babe, no -“

I grabbed his hand and drug him into the crowd. Everyone was moving around and having the best time. I had to admit this was one of their better songs and it’s physically impossible to stay still during it. Quinn stood there frozen before giving in and started to jump around with me, not daring to let me out of his grasp. He sung the lyrics he was embarrassed to admit he knew with me, caught a guitar pick for me and held me as I cried during Just Pretend.

“Holy fucking shit, this guy is an animal.” Quinn gasped as the lead singer, Noah let out the most primal, gluttonous screams during the encore of dethrone. He wasn’t wrong though, I could feel those screams in my bones.

The concert finally ended, tears prickling my eyes as black and red confetti stuck to us and covered the entire floor. I didn’t want to leave but we had to. That was the best concert I’ve never witnessed and it felt so bittersweet that it was over.

“So, have I been a good boyfriend or what?”

I just chuckled as we made our way outside. The cold air hit my face and it felt like heaven after being a sweaty mess for three hours. We got into the car and Quinn leaned over to help me with my seat belt. I never once questioned why he started doing it, but I wasn’t about to complain about my boyfriend being this close to me at any given moment. His eyes were a perfect shade of green, the kind of green you wanted your morning matcha to be. They peered so deeply into mine I didn’t realize he asked me a question.

“So what’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out when we get home.”

[qualitygiverdreamer09]

TWST Housewardens (Riddle, Leona and Azul) As Your Boyfriend (Headcanons). Part 1.

Header Credit: Disney

Pairing: Multi Scenario x gender neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Light Angst

Tags : Twisted wonderland x reader, Physical and non Physical Effection, just a lot of cute moment between couple.

Warning : None

A/N : For today there will be no Quotes, but I have different plans, including creating several headcanons (hc), which I have postponed for almost several months due to several obstacles that have prevented me from completing them.

The following is my interpretation of what I believe Riddle, Leona and Azul would say and act, and I kindly apologize if it does not align perfectly with the character or if you have a different understanding. Please bear in mind that it is intended purely for entertainment purposes and should not be taken to heart.

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

Riddle Rosehearts

Type of Boyfriend - The Strict but Deeply Devoted Boyfriend

Dating Riddle is like winning the favor of a noble—he holds himself (and you) to high standards, but beneath his composed exterior is a young man desperate for love, warmth, and the freedom to be himself. He expresses affection with precision, yet with time, his once-rigid demeanor softens, allowing his true feelings to shine through.

Early Relationship – The Overly Formal & Flustered Phase

Riddle has never been in a relationship before, and the idea of romance terrifies him more than breaking a rule.

When you first confess, he freezes, his mind racing. His face turns a deep shade of red, and he stammers:

“Th-That is… highly improper to say so suddenly! There is a correct procedure for these matters—!”

But when he realizes you're serious, his fingers tighten around the edge of his uniform, and his voice drops to something far more fragile:

“You… truly care for me?”

Despite his nervousness, Riddle approaches your relationship with the same diligence he applies to everything. He studies dating etiquette, reads romance novels (with an embarrassing level of intensity), and schedules dates with precision.

At first, he overthinks everything:

“I must escort you to dinner precisely at 7:00 PM, or else it would be discourteous.”

“No, I cannot simply hold your hand without a formal declaration of intent!”

Eventually, though, he learns that love isn’t about rules—it’s about emotions.

As He Opens Up – The Soft & Protective Side

The more comfortable Riddle becomes, the more his softer side emerges. Though he still struggles to be openly affectionate in public, his gestures in private speak volumes.

He presses a hand to your forehead when he thinks you might be unwell, brushing his fingers against your skin longer than necessary. He lingers when saying goodbye, red ears betraying his hesitation.

One night, while studying together, he unexpectedly rests his head against your shoulder.

“…I suppose this isn’t an efficient way to study, but… may I stay like this? Just for a moment?”

And the first time he kisses you, it’s not planned. It’s not part of a schedule. It happens in the middle of a heated argument over something trivial, like whether tea should be steeped for exactly three minutes.

You blurt out, “Riddle, you’re adorable when you get all worked up.”

His face burns. “Th-That is—! You—!” And then, without thinking, he kisses you—quick, clumsy, but full of emotion.

When he pulls back, his voice is barely above a whisper: “…I don’t know what to do with these feelings. But I want to learn—with you.”

How He Shows Love

Words of Affirmation: He’s precise with his compliments, never saying something unless he truly means it. “You are brilliant. And, dare I say… utterly irreplaceable.”

Acts of Service: He ensures your tea is always perfect, helps with your studies, and fusses over your health.

Physical Affection (Private Only!): At first, he’s stiff and awkward, but once comfortable, he enjoys holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, and resting his head against you when tired.

Dates with Riddle

Afternoon Tea in the Rose Garden: He takes pride in preparing the perfect tea for you, insisting on only the finest pastries.

Quiet Library Study Sessions: He secretly enjoys it when you lean against him while reading.

Horseback Riding: A highly formal date—he claims it’s for posture and discipline, but he loves seeing you enjoy it.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Riddle doesn’t handle jealousy well. He won’t cause a scene, but if someone flirts with you, his posture stiffens, his lips press into a thin line, and his voice becomes ice-cold.

“I would hope that they understand boundaries.”

Later, in private, he’ll grip your hand tightly and murmur: “…You are mine. I don’t know how to say it in a way that doesn’t sound selfish. But… I don’t want to lose you.”

What It’s Like to Sleep Over

Riddle has a strict bedtime, but when you stay over, he spends extra time brushing your hair, making sure you’re comfortable.

If you move away in your sleep, he unconsciously reaches for you, his voice soft: “…Stay close.”

The next morning, he’ll deny it. But his blushing ears tell a different story.

Final Thoughts on Riddle as a Boyfriend

If you want a boyfriend who is disciplined, devoted, and secretly starved for affection, Riddle is the perfect choice. Once he trusts you, his love is unwavering.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Leona Kingscholar

Type of Boyfriend - The Lazy but Intensely Passionate Boyfriend

Dating Leona is like taming a lion. He is confident, temperamental, and effortlessly alluring, but beneath his sharp exterior is a man who fears being second place in your heart.

His love is possessive, teasing, and deeply intense—once he claims you as his, there’s no escaping.

Early Relationship – The “You’re Annoying, But I Like You” Phase

Leona doesn’t believe in love at first sight.

When you confess to him, he smirks, stretching lazily before saying, “Heh. Took you long enough.”

But despite his cocky attitude, the truth is, he likes you—more than he wants to admit. And that terrifies him.

At first, he plays it cool, pretending he doesn’t care.

“Oh? You wanna go on a date? Tch, fine. But you’re paying.”

But then, when someone else starts showing interest in you, his sharp eyes darken. “Oi. You’re not seriously entertaining that loser, are you?”

Slowly, his teasing shifts into something more real, more vulnerable.

As He Falls in Love – The Soft & Overprotective Side

Once Leona truly falls for you, he stops pretending.

He doesn’t say “I love you” often, but you feel it in the way he pulls you into his lap when you’re sitting next to him, in the way his tail flicks happily when you scratch behind his ears, in the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.

One night, you’re lying beside him, and he mumbles, half-asleep: “…Don’t go anywhere.”

He won’t say it outright, but he’s afraid of losing you—afraid that, like everything else in his life, he’ll end up second-best in your heart.

So he holds onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

How He Shows Love

Physical Touch: He lives for it—pulling you against him, resting his head on your shoulder, or draping himself over you like a lazy cat.

Teasing: He calls you “Herbivore” but will pout if you don’t give him attention.

Acts of Service: He pretends he’s lazy, but if you need something? Consider it done. He’ll grumble about it, but he’ll still do it.

Dates with Leona

Naps Together: His idea of a perfect date is you in his arms, half-asleep.

Star-Gazing in the Savannah: He secretly loves showing you his homeland.

Sparring Matches: He claims he’s “training” you, but really, he enjoys the playful competition.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

If someone flirts with you, Leona glares—a look that could kill. Then, he pulls you against him and mutters:

“Tch. Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.”

Final Thoughts on Leona as a Boyfriend

Leona loves deeply but fears losing. If you want a fiercely loyal, possessive, and secretly soft-hearted boyfriend, he’s the perfect choice.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Azul Ashengrotto

Type of Boyfriend - The Cunning but Deeply Insecure Boyfriend

Dating Azul is like making a deal with a silver-tongued businessman—he woos you with charm, gifts, and impeccable manners, but beneath his confident façade is a man who fears that, one day, you’ll see him as nothing more than the weak boy he once was.

His love is protective, strategic, and possessive—he hates losing, and he will not lose you.

Early Relationship – The “Too Good to Be True” Phase

Azul doesn’t believe in unconditional love.

When you confess, his first instinct is suspicion.

“Ah, what an interesting proposal. But tell me… what do you stand to gain from this arrangement?”

Even when he realizes you’re serious, he still struggles to believe it. Why you? Why him?

He spends the first few weeks of your relationship proving he’s the perfect boyfriend—he showers you with luxurious gifts, takes you on extravagant dates, and subtly reminds you of how fortunate you are to be with him.

And yet, deep down, he’s terrified.

What if, one day, you see through him—see the boy who was once ridiculed, weak, unwanted?

So he watches you carefully, searching for any sign that you might be losing interest.

As He Falls in Love – The Soft & Vulnerable Side

Despite his best efforts to keep his guard up, Azul falls hard.

At first, his affection is calculated—hand kisses, smooth compliments, and perfectly crafted romantic gestures. But as he grows more comfortable, his love becomes more real.

One night, after a long day at the Monstro Lounge, you find him slumped over his desk, fast asleep. His glasses are askew, his coat draped over the chair.

When you brush his bangs from his face, he stirs, groggily murmuring: “…You’re still here?”

He blinks up at you, vulnerable, unguarded.

“…I was afraid you might leave.”

From then on, he stops trying so hard to impress you. He still spoils you, still insists that he pays for everything, but he also lets himself be weak around you—lets you see him tired, frustrated, afraid.

And when you tell him you love him, without any conditions, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath his entire life.

How He Shows Love

Gift Giving: Azul is a firm believer that material gifts equal devotion—jewelry, imported delicacies, even rare magical artifacts.

Acts of Service: If you mention wanting something, he’ll get it—no questions asked.

Physical Affection (When Alone): He lives for stroking your fingers, pressing his lips to your knuckles, and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Dates with Azul

Exclusive Fine Dining: Only the best for his beloved—private, candlelit, and expensive.

Private Beach Getaways: The ocean is his domain, and he wants you to experience it with him.

Late-Night Talks in His Office: When he’s too tired to maintain his usual bravado, he lets you see the real him.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Azul doesn’t get angry when jealous—he gets strategic.

If someone flirts with you, he smiles—but his grip on your hand tightens, and his voice drops to a dangerously smooth purr: “I do hope they understand that you are already spoken for.”

And later, when you’re alone, he’ll kiss your wrist, murmuring: “…You wouldn’t leave me for someone else, would you?”

Because the truth is, no matter how much you reassure him, part of him still fears losing you.

Final Thoughts on Azul as a Boyfriend

If you want a boyfriend who spoils you, worships you, and hides his deepest insecurities behind charm and wit, Azul is the perfect match. His love is intense, but once he trusts you, he’s yours forever.

Written By @qualitygiverdreamer09

[tiffyfoundsomething]

We all know I'm a doll and pony person and that my primary focus is fixing up their hair after they've been played with a lot.

One thing I consistently struggle with is recurling 90's Barbie's bangs. Their hair fiber is usually Kanekalon, which melts with much heat. Also the short length makes it difficult for my clumsy hands to manage while trying to put a straw curler in. I assume they used pre-curled hair for the bangs when doing the factory rooting.

I don't need suggestions for curlers, I've been doing this longer than a lot of doll enthusiasts have been alive. I'm just clumsy.

For a long time I'd wished I had the technical knowledge to make myself a small curling iron specifically for this purpose and not too long ago, this terrifying contraption was pointed out to me.

Yeah, that's..... That's an electric, heated eyelash curler.

Affiliate Link:

That's scary, ngl. I mean, I know people have been heating their manual, metal curlers with a lighter for decades (....), but this is still scary.

It's great for recurling Kanekalon doll bangs.

It did take two attempts with one focusing on the length and one focusing on the roots and each attempt I held the iron in place for about 90 seconds. That seems like a long time but the plate doesn't get that hot and didn't melt the hair at all.

Stacey's bangs are mostly normal shape and position again, and that's exciting! They are a little imperfectly round but better.

This is a lot easier for me to manage than straw curlers and I didn't get a weird crimp where the cap straw or bobby pin sits.

There are some negatives of course.

The little bar that holds the hair is very weak and I have to manually hold it closed which is fine because this device doesn't get hot, just warm.

You can't really use this to do curls, expecting to slide the curl off the end of the curler because the curler has teeth/an embedded eyelash comb.

But if you're careful with it:

I think for this, straws would still be better.

It has 3 heat settings: 120, 150, and 190. Kanekalon can handle just-boiled water at 200F, so I used 190.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Made myself tear up thinking about Girl Dad Sylus. He'd give his little girls the unconditional love he never had growing up, and (hopefully) in the process heal his inner child 🥹

And additionally...

Sylus' kids will be the first people in his life that'll love him from the very start. Everyone else has at some point wanted to hurt, use, or kill him. Or hated his guts/been disgusted by him 💔 (that part in the main story still wrecks me, his expression is so heartrending, you can so plainly see the devastation on his face. I genuinely think he cried afterwards, when he vanished for a bit. And now I am crying too from thinking about it 💔💔)

But his children will not once in their lives view him with fear, or disgust, or ill intent. Instead, they'll look at him with stars in their eyes from the very moment they begin to be aware of and recognize their surroundings.

Like everyone else, their little hearts will start pounding faster at the mere sight or sound of him. However, not out of terror, but elation, and the purest form of love, their short legs toddling towards him as fast as they can, chubby arms eagerly reaching for him. Not to do him harm, but to give and receive affection. A gesture which Sylus will always reciprocate without a second's hesitation, his strong powerful arms enveloping his babies with a gentleness and care that seemingly belies his imposing exterior, but which in reality is representative of who he is and has always been at his core: A warm and kind person who wears his heart on his sleeve, who loves with everything he's got, and whose soul smells like flowers. A man who despite his wealth and power never trampels on the weak, and who although "it may not look like it" is truly "very good at looking after people". Had society bothered to look beyond his appearance and his reputation, it too would have discovered this. Instead, it chose to cast him as a monster more terrifying than a wanderer, and that is the role Sylus has been more or less forced to play ever since, and how he has been viewed for most of his long life, even initially by the people that are now closest to him.

But never by his children. In their eyes, Sylus won't ever be a fiend nor an infamous criminal — Sylus will always be their Protector. Their Hero.

Their Daddy.

And to someone who has forever been labeled as a villain or a demon, these terms will surely be more precious than all the most valuable gems and stones in the Universe put together.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Blankets & Burdens

Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes, she catches him flinch.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Very brief mentions of childhood abuse. Brief mention of Merle (He's always a warning). Mostly fluffy with just a sprinkling of angst.

A/N: This is a chapter from a Daryl series I'm writing, but I wanted to see if it would be of interest to anyone before I start posting chapters.

-

Daryl is great in a fight, hell of all people she’s ever met if she wanted anyone to fight with it’d be Daryl, he’s quick and instinctive and strong, but sometimes, sometimes she catches the flinch. Not the usual flinch of being hit, the flinch that tells for a split second he remembers. The flinch of the little boy he used to be, the flinch that makes her see him scared and sad and alone. The flinch that makes her see fucking red.

He barely bats an eyelid at walkers, they’re as easy to him as Squirrels now, but when the bigger man’s fist is millimetres from his face she sees him flinch as if watching it in slow motion. She barely remembers moving until she finds herself standing over his lifeless body with her hands bloody. He’s easily almost double her size, hefty as well as strong but fingertips drip onto the ground with a deafening thud that she should barely be able to hear.

There’s a tremor in her hands as she looks at them, she’d like to blame the cold for it but she knows it isn’t the weathers fault. It’s been hotter than Satan’s asshole for weeks, so why they had to go hunting on the coldest day of the damn apocalypse she’ll never know but she hasn’t turned down an invitation for his company yet. He asks if she wants to join and the easy answer of yes rolls off her tongue before she’s even thought about his question. She’d say yes to anything as long as he asked.

“Thanks”

His voice startles her out of her thoughts, and she knows him well enough to know that’s on purpose, so she raises a fleeting smile in his direction suddenly feeling warmer just for having looked at him. She clenches her fist to try and calm the movement in her hand, just missing the way his gaze flicks down and back up in time to clock it. He’s observant to an alarming degree.

“Always”

Daryl’s arm cracks loudly as he pulls the blade out of the mans torso, grunting as he adjusts it in its socket to make sure he hasn’t just dislocated it. She nods towards it as he awkwardly hands her the machete back, trying to ignore the fact his fingers touch hers, trying to ignore the way it electrifies him or the way she shakes.

“You okay?”

“’m fine”

He brushes her off as if the joint doesn’t sting, as if his whole body doesn’t hurt already when he wakes up, as if any of them have been okay since everything started. Sure, the prison is a million times better than being on the road, but its not exactly comfortable and he doubts anything will ever be safe again; what’s a little shoulder pain if not another inconvenience on top of a never ending plethora of inconveniences.

-

There’s a fire going that night. It burns just outside the courtyard where they’ve dragged a handful of chairs to hide, enough behind a building to be out of the line of sight from the walkers gathering by the fence. He watches for a moment as she tries to warm herself up, still delicate hands running the length of her arms as she stares at the flames in front of her. He’s been surprised that she’s managed to stay gentle in all of this, always a smile or a laugh for him but her face looks haunted.

He watches her more often than he’ll admit to, though he’ll admit to exactly zero watching if anyone dared to ask, which they wouldn’t because he still looks terrifying to most people. He’s definitely not in love with her, no way, he definitely doesn’t lay awake at night thinking about how he’d like to grow old with her. Zero thinking or watching, if anyone asked, thank you very much.

He toes his boot on the concrete as he tries to decide if he should leave her alone. He doesn’t, of course, because he can’t. Hasn’t been able to since he found her in a cabin in the woods with more holes than walls. Excuse after excuse to be close to her, and okay there’s a tiny spark of hope in him that feels like she seeks him out too, but he’s never allowed himself to entertain the blossom of it for more than a split second before his low self-esteem takes over.

“Ya alright?”

“Yeah”

Her voice sounds far away, quiet and floating in the middle distance as she stares through the fire without turning to look at him. He sits on a chair next to her, tapping his fingers against his jean covered knee to stop from reaching out to hold her hand or something equally embarrassing.

“Ya sure?”

“I didn’t even blink”

“Huh?”

“Saw you flinch and I just wanted him off you, didn’t even hesitate”

“Yeah” he doesn’t know what to say, he’s had the same urge for her countless times. He never hesitates; he likes the group, he really does despite his disposition, but he thinks they’d probably have to think twice if it was a decision to save him. He doesn’t have a response for knowing she wouldn’t.

“People talk you know? Stuff about your brother”

He grunts in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t have a response. Of all the places he thought this conversation might go, Merle never crossed his mind.

“I think maybe we’re not as different as you think we are. I saw the way you flinched, I…recognised it” She pauses for a beat, flicking her gaze up to him, catches the way he chews on his lip before she continues “I don’t know who or what-“

“I ain’t gon-“

“I’m not asking. I’m just sorry that’s not something you got to tell me in your own time”

He’s taken back by the care in the sentence, though he shouldn’t be. She’s given him pause numerous times with the amount of consideration she shows. He’s not the only observant one between them.

She shivers violently, bopping the soles of her trainer covered feet on the ground to make her body shake.

“Ya alright?”

“Freezing. Can’t get warm, been cold for fucking hours” She tries to laugh but he hears the way her teeth clench as she grits the sentence out. They’ve been back since before sundown, she should have warmed up by now.

“Ya want my jacket?”

“No, I think I’m going to bed” She pauses as she stands. Rests her hand on his shoulder with a firm but gentle squeeze, he resists the urge to gasp at how cold her hands are “Thanks though”

-

The gentle tap of knuckles against metal makes her lift her head. It’s quiet enough not to wake her if she’d been sleeping, and that alone tells her its Daryl before he even draws back the makeshift curtain. For all of his gruff exterior, considerations seeps from his every pore even without trying.

“Brought ya a blanket”

His voice is low, hushed and gruff at the edges but he holds it out to her like a kid who might get scolded for it. She shuffles up slightly, smiling at him in the dim light from the hallway.

“This your one?” She asks, knowing there’s hardly spare anything in this place anymore, taking it and bunching it up under her nose to inhale the smell of him, knowing it’ll look like she’s testing her theory instead of relishing it.

He doesn’t answer which is in itself an answer, she shakes her head, holding it back towards him.

“Jus’ take it”

She studies the way his sock clad feet twitch against the floor, the slightly wringing of his hands in front of him, nervous and shy in a way that’s so him but shouldn’t be.

“Want to share with me?”

“Nah, it’s okay”

She opens the blanket covering her with her free arm, refusing to take her eyes of his face to see if she’s imagining what’s been under the surface with them. It’s minute really, a split second that she’d have missed had she not been looking for it, but his eyes flick down to her bare legs, jaw clicking in what looks like restraint. She tilts her head to the side like a dog trying to understand a situation that seems familiar but isn’t.

“’Cause you don’t want to, or ‘cause you think I don’t?”

He doesn’t answer. Her options are push him out of his comfort zone or take his only blanket and neither seem like a great option, but he hasn’t stopped looking at her and he doesn’t seem like he wants to make a Daryl sized hole in any of the walls.

“Won’t even touch you if you don’t want me to”

A pause, a scoffed laugh under his breath. She expects him to ignore the tease entirely. He’s shy, tentative, she’s not even sure he feels anything like she does but he accepts the invitation with a stiff nod, closing the curtain behind him so the light blurs out. She can just about make out the solid shape of him as he steps forward.

He’s quiet at the best of times, hunting trained steps that are softer than they seem they would be, but he barely makes a sound until he’s sitting on the edge of her cot. Shaky sigh leaving barely parted lips as he eases his legs up onto the bed; sliding under the blanket she offers; throwing his own one on top of them both haphazardly.

“Didn’t say that, did I?”

He lifts his arm up, above her head, sucking in a sharp quiet breath when she burrows into the crook, resting her head on his firm bicep and avoiding his shoulder. Its not like he was expecting her to face the wall or anything, but he’ll never stop being shocked by the casual affection she offers.

“Don’t want to hurt your arm”

He huffs, using his other hand to shift her into a slightly more comfortable but closer position so her head Is resting on his chest. He studies the top of her head like it holds all the answers, like if he can just focus on the tip of her nose that he can see past her hairline he can magically work out what this means.

“Why ya s’ kind to me?” He whispers, as if he hasn’t spent all day caring for them all, hasn’t given up his blanket and his bed to keep her warm. He thinks she might have drifted off before she answers, soft voice low and drenched in the threat of sleep. Comfortable. Warm.

She moves a hand up to his chest, rests it over his heart so she can hear the steady thudding under her palm, presses her lips to the cold skin on his cheek

“Why don’t you think you deserve it?”

“Go t’ sleep”

A snort, dismissive in a way she normally wouldn’t let him get away with. Normally he’s not wrapped around her though, normally the beginnings of rest aren’t pulling behind her eyelids whilst he holds her.

“Goodnight Daryl”

[daddyissuesbecauseofhotch]

Daddy issues || #4

{masterlist}

You can’t help yourself, you simply have to see what Aaron’s like when he puts his son to bed. Does he read him a bedtime story? Do they talk about something? Does he kiss his forehead before tucking him in? The idea of him being the sweetest father, maybe as kind and caring as your own was, melts your heart. He’s already in the perfect category in your eyes, but if you’ll like what you see, you’ll have to create a brand new category just for him.

While you’ve never really thought about kids, being too busy attending parties almost every weekend, and sometimes during the weekdays if it was hard to decline an invitation, now you suddenly find yourself wondering what it would be like to take care of one. At this very moment, it’s not just any child in your mind. It’s Jack. He’s young, he could probably get used to the idea of having you around, and he seems to be a really good kid.

Letting out a dreamy sigh, you lean against the doorframe with your shoulder, your hands comfortably tucked into the pocket of the hoodie, and watch the bedtime ritual with curious eyes. Jack is aware of you being there, he keeps whispering something to his father while he’s glancing at you over and over again, and his father whispers back with a quiet chuckle. But then the boy yawns and falls back on his back, which prompts Aaron to pull the blanket up to his neck and lean down to kiss his forehead.

“Sleep tight, buddy,” he tells him softly before standing up to leave the room.

Without thinking, you take a few steps back so he can close the door, but when he stands toe to toe with you in the hallway, you lose contact with the filter between your brain and mouth. How could you think properly when he’s looking down at you with those brown eyes you want to drown in, watching you with that boyish smirk that makes your heart race?

So, you speak up and spit out something you should have kept to yourself. “How can something sweet like this be also hot as hell?” you ask him quietly, your breath hitching when he lets out a soft laugh. “That’s not funny.”

He shakes his head, the smile still present on his lips. “Actually, it is pretty funny. Come on, I have some really good wine waiting for us.”

Nodding, you follow him to the kitchen, but when you get there, he immediately cages you between himself and the counter. Your eyes are as big as saucers from the surprise, but you can only gulp since no words come to your mind. Deep down you know you should ask him what he’s doing, what the plan is, but you can’t get the words out. You’ve gone home with guys you barely knew before, one-night stands are nothing new to you sadly, but Aaron? You want to take it slow, you want to get to know him, but it’s clear he has a different idea.

Maybe for the first time in your life you want something real, a proper relationship that might be able to domesticate you, and you can feel that he’s the perfect candidate for that. Being with him would give you an instant family, though, you would find yourself in the role of a stepmom if things turned serious enough, and you’re terrified of that. What if Jack wouldn’t accept you? What if you fuck something up and end up hurting one of them?

“Hey,” he says quietly as he grabs your chin to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Let’s see, you’re already daydreaming about a relationship that might never even happen. Yeah, right, he would escort you out of the apartment in a second. “Nothing, I’m just glad to see how happy your son is,” you reply, telling him a teeny tiny part of the truth.

A proud smile appears on his lips as he watches you, his gaze shifting down to your lips for a millisecond. Every fiber in your body is screaming at you to make the first move, to close the gap and kiss him, but your mind holds you back, telling you that it’s not the right time to be bold. Let him work for your attention, let him show you what exactly he wants. There’s no need to act like you do with guys your age.

Aaron leans close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your face when he exhales, but he doesn’t say anything, not even when he moves his hand from your chin to the side of your neck. How did he have the audacity to call you a tease when he’s doing things like that?

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he asks quietly, his thumb gently stroking your soft skin. When you give him a confused look, he shakes his head slightly. “The pull every time we’re close to each other. I can’t explain it, it’s just–”

“There,” you finish, finally understanding what he meant.

This pull, this attraction, this gravitational field is so strong that it’s impossible not to notice or choose to ignore it. Aaron knows that, you know that, and now maybe it’s time to explore what it means. He nods upon hearing the word you said out loud, but he remains silent, he just keeps watching you, analyzing you. During dinner, whenever Jack gave him a moment to talk, he told you about his job as a profiler, so now you feel like you’re being studied under a microscope.

Suddenly, he decides to knock you out of the depths of your thoughts by lifting you to the counter and placing a kiss on your nose. “Do you wanna find out what would happen if we got a little closer?” he asks, his hands moving to your knees, fingers spreading as he moves them up your thighs.

A jolt of electricity runs through you, and you can’t stop yourself, you cup his face and pull him into a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to return it, quickly taking the lead as he kisses you hard and messy, way too eager to have you all to himself. All you want is spending the night in his bed, exploring every inch of his body and taking the time to learn more about him. He’s not that type, you know that, not someone who would sleep with a woman he barely knows, but God, you need him so bad.

The spell is broken when you hear some strange noises from Jack’s room, and his fatherly instincts kick in right away, making him rush to his son’s room. You don’t miss the sound of crying, the heartbreaking sobs of the child you grew to like so much in the past few hours. Your curiosity is strong, telling you to go and see what’s happening, but you also know it’s not something you should observe.

Some time later you’re sitting on the couch, mindlessly checking your notifications to see if there’s anything interesting, but your mind keeps returning to the kiss, that goddamn kiss you won’t be able to forget anytime soon. Finally, you hear the sound of footsteps from the bedrooms, and Aaron eventually sits next to you with a troubled look on his face.

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask hesitantly.

He shakes his head with a sigh. “Not now.”

You nod as you lock your phone and turn to him. “I didn’t want to sneak out without a word. Thank you for the dinner and everything, but I should probably go now.” Before he could speak, you stand up and slip the phone into the pocket of the hoodie. The hoodie that still smells like him.

It hurts. It really does. You can see the sadness in his eyes, but he doesn’t want to talk about it, and you don’t want to force him to tell you what’s wrong. Maybe he needs some time alone now to think about whatever happened in his son’s bedroom.

You’re not good at this; the emotional conversations are the bane of your existence. You work, you go to parties, but most of your relationships are extremely shallow. You have absolutely no experience in emotionally supporting someone in need of it, and you sure as hell won’t practice on the man you like so much.

When you grab the doorknob, though, you suddenly see him put his hand on the door next to your head to keep it closed. You turn to him with a confused look on your face. He lets out a humorless laugh as he watches you.

“It’s not an easy topic, okay? I’ll tell you, I promise, just… not yet. I wanted you to know this,” he adds, then leans in to give you a soft kiss. You return it, but it feels different now, so you put a hand on his chest to gently push him away. Now it’s his turn to look confused. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and for the first time since you’ve known him, he sounds unsure of himself.

“No, it’s just getting late. Good night, Aaron.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but then he sees the determination in your eyes and gives up the fight before he could even begin. “Sure. Good night.”

[forsaken-headcanons]

every survivor in forsaken is crazy.

Noob is constantly terrified, never being able to relax due to there constantly being killers around. Even if they did get time to themself, they’d definitely still be scared and have nightmares about being chased. Insanity scale: 5/10. Halfway there, but they react to things in normal ways.

Elliot is hanging by a thread. He has the sole responsibility to make sure everyone stays alive, which is already a hard job, but he also likely serves as the team therapist. And nobody else can really help him with his problems (007n7 would if he didn’t have a son to run from). Insanity scale: 6/10. Can and will snap.

Two Time has been mentioned to be “messed up in the membrane”. There’s no defending them. They are a cultist who killed someone who was important to them. They believe in reincarnation to a fatal extent. Insanity scale: 9/10. I don’t think they’re ok, but they at least have somewhat of a soul.

Guest 1337 is a mixed bag. He’s likely the most sane of the bunch. He has a family and lived a happy life… until military training. I doubt he’s been able to see his family ever since he started, and that can leave a mark on you. Insanity scale: 3/10. He’s probably aware of the fact the group is trapped in an endless hell where they get chased by ruthless killers for the rest of eternity.

Builderman is both ok and not ok simultaneously. I think he has the most self-discipline next to Guest 1337, so he won’t be gone easily. However, his affiliations with Shedletsky (who is definitely crazy) might cause him to lose a bit of his sanity. And the whole killer thing. Insanity scale: 4/10. Haunted by Shedletsky.

Chance is already gone. He’s a gambler. His gimmick… is gambling. Need I say less? Insanity scale: gamble/10. (Ok, I will actually say something though: he’s probably covering up inner feelings with his natural cheer)

Shedletsky. I’m pretty sure we all saw this coming, but this guy is unwell. First, one of the killers is the embodiment of his own hatred and malice. Neat. Second, the whole Telamon thing. He’s also the weird hooded guy who’s most likely a cultist. I think he’s the second most far gone character in the group. Insanity scale: fried chicken/10. We’re blaming John for this.

007n7 isn’t doing so well. Imagine raising a child who you think is innocent and adorable, then suddenly you’re running for your life from him. Do you think you’d be ok? No. Insanity scale: child loss/10. He also has to face the fact that he wasn’t a very good father, either.

TL;DR: pray for Two Time, Shedletsky, and 007n7.

This is the most beautiful ask I have ever received. Gamble/10, child loss/10 and fried chicken/10 are my favorite ratings. I read this a day ago when it first got in my inbox and dear anon, I have to tell you that "we're blaming john for this" has now become a phrase I use in every appropriate and inappropriate situation.

Thank you for the Chance food. I've been saying that he's not as mentally well as he likes to appear to be.

[the-painted-siren]

Finally managed to redo all of my ninja body headcanon refs yippee! I’m especially happy because I redid their proportions and anatomy to be more accurate to how I envision them. I certainly think they all look better for it.

A metric ton of notes + Several extra characters beneath the cut! Also spoilers for Dragons Rising S2 and leaks for S3.

Jay — has the face of a movie star with a narrow jawline and thick, curly hair to go with it. Short, boxy-looking, muscular shoulders. He’s strong enough to lift heavy materials and work with stubborn mechanical pieces, but is otherwise pretty lean. Lots of freckles and lightning-like scars all over his body. The smaller ones fade with time and return when he uses his powers. (Later in DR, I headcanon that Jay figures out she’s transfem. However for this ref I’m using pre-realization Jay.)

Nya — Square face and strong features, death glare that could kill a man. Very muscular, especially around her biceps and thighs. Lots of scars and moles. Leftover markings from her time spent as the ocean (she also has sharpened teeth from the incident, like dragon fangs.) Dragon tattoo on her left arm. (Not pictured: small phoenix tattoo on her back.) Wavy hair that resembles ocean waves.

Kai — Resembles his father quite a bit, has similar sharp features. Very handsome. Hairy, jacked, very strong arms, biceps, and shoulders. Scarred hands from wielding his own fire recklessly when he was younger. Same dragon tattoo as Nya on his left arm (he got it to commemorate her sacrifice in Seabound.) Scar over right eye that he got while fighting a Serpentine. Hair that resembles flames. Top surgery scars bc he is transmasc to me.

Lloyd — Classic hero look. Soft-featured and seems very approachable, often makes his enemies think he’s incapable of great anger bc of it. Tall, stocky, jock-like build, broad shoulders and waist. Outgrew half of his team by S8 (they are still upset about this lol). Several scars and stretch marks from how quickly he’s grown over the years but the most prominent are the claw marks on his shoulder from fighting his dad. Mole on his chin bc I like projecting my physical features onto my fave characters. Originally his ears were round like the rest of his teammates but became pointed after the Oni trilogy, he used to be severely self conscious about them but later grew to appreciate them. Top surgery scars bc he is also transmasc to me.

Cole — Had an emo phase in classic-era S1/2, was also pretty slender but later put on a lot of weight. Probably the most relaxed and emotionally in touch than all the rest of his teammates and it shows in his expression and posture. Large build with lots of functional muscle- big arms, big chest, big hands and feet, you get the picture. Very hairy. Scars on his hands and arms and side of his head from his powers and time spent as a ghost. Also has some moles. Has grown his hair out very steadily over the course of his life. Top surgery scars bc he is also, also transmasc to me.

Zane — Originally, Dr. Julien built him pretty short but after S3 Pixal rebuilt him to be taller. Slender build with a strong, flexible core. Broad, sturdy shoulders. Dr. Julien designed him to be light and fast to contrast the Juggernaut, which is slow and tanky. Has similar patterns on his shoulders that Pixal has all over her body, except the dots have been replaced with snowflakes. Very human-looking. Dark eyes. Heart/core is comprised of chronosteel as given to him by the previous Master of Ice.

Pixal — The shortest. Petite. Has a very sweet and gently-looking countenance since her original purpose was to assist. Has an alternative Battle Mode body that is bigger than even Zane. She re-made the Samurai X persona to seem big, quiet, and terrifying to fight. Visible circuitry since she is overflowing with every mechanism thought possible to make her as fully functional as a human being.

Sora — average height with a rectangular build, strong arms because she’s an inventor and mechanic. Using scrapped Imperium tech, she customized the markings on her body to look like whiskers and cat stripes. She used to dye her hair pink but once she grew into her powers it became naturally pink. Two different prosthetic arms, one for practical purposes and another that looks like a cat paw for fun.

Arin — starts out pretty short but grows a lot over the course of his time training to be a ninja. It’s not pictured, but he has a growth spurt post S2 that puts him at a similar height to Lloyd (5’8”). Puts on some functional muscle as he trains. Has a few scars but the two most prominent ones are on his shoulder (from helping Sora with a project, and the other on his clavicle from getting thrown around by Ras in DR S2).

Wyldfyre — short, short gremlin. Sunken facial features. Stocky and top heavy, muscular arms and legs. Despite her height, she could suplex half the cast effortlessly. Very tanned from being out in the sun and heat her entire life. I gave her lots of freckles because I am correct. Hair is still somewhat untamable even after S2P1.

Frak — seems tall, is actually pretty small for a Serpentine. Wiry and flexible, lots of sharp edges that he’s generally very aware and particular about. Tough skin/scales, wears armor to protect his torso. Mixed Venomari and Constrictai. Receives one of Lloyd’s old gi after joining the ninja.

Euphrasia — yes, I know she’s not apart of the cast of new ninja but I wanted to make a reference for her anyway. Tiny and wispy, like a wind sprite. Unassuming and innocent-looking. Used to have shrimp-posture from how anxious and insecure she was about herself but has started to straighten out as she’s grown into her powers. Some freckles :)

Misako — very short but still fit as a fiddle. More the capable of defending herself and doing heavy manual labor, even though she doesn’t really look like it. Had a very stressful life and as a result started getting gray hair early in her years. She doesn’t mind as much now that she’s gotten so old. Has stretch marks and a slight tummy after giving birth to Lloyd.

Wu — can shapeshift to any height, chooses to look short and wide, ultimate sleeper build (this man is muscled as hell). Like Lloyd, he has a classic hero look and also seems approachable and gentle. Post Oni trilogy he keeps his ears pointed to comfort and support Lloyd with his own low self-esteem. In the early seasons, he used to be very slim and almost frail-seeming, but in S9 he grew to add on a lot of weight from subconsciously modeling himself after Cole. Has arthritis and chronic pain.

Garmadon — can also shapeshift to any height but got into a particularly petty and pointless fight with Lloyd about it one day. He chooses to be around the same height as Lloyd bc of it. Both he and Wu have dragon-like tails but prefer to keep them hidden, tho post-Crystallized Garmadon starts to wear his out more frequently. In S1/2 he was remarkably muscled and well-built, S3/4 he became incredibly focused on slimming down to fit the ninja master image, in the Oni trilogy he was reborn as being remarkably powerful and muscled again (to fit Harumi’s subconscious projection of what she thought he would look like.) By Crystallized, he’d let go of many of his responsibilities and reservations and gained a lot of weight. Still muscled, tho not as big as Wu. Has chronic pain due to so many physical transformations and a 1000+ years of service to Ninjago.

Morro — *transfems your ghost* Yeah… anyway, short and bony, strong enough to handle herself tho. Leftover scars after she dissolved into the ocean, occasionally they become translucent and show off her skeleton when she experiences powerful emotions. No longer a wind master but does now have ghost-like abilities.

Echo/Mr.E — essentially looks like a smaller, shorter, and more youthful version of Zane. Used to be very rusted and was always falling apart before Harumi helped rebuild him. Red and black color scheme to contrast Zane’s blue and white one. Has a crack over his left eyebrow after he got crushed by a billboard in Crystallized.

Harumi — Remarkably beautiful by most social beauty standards, deceptively petite. Is actually muscled beneath whatever layers she wears. In DR, she lets go a lot of her old feelings and resentments and begins healing. Cuts her hair and starts wearing warmer colors, tho she still prefers her heavy makeup and jewelry from her biker phase. Both she and Echo have a sort of crystal-like surface to their body after taking on the power of the Crystal King. Always carries a tool belt to help with repairs and odd jobs around the Crossroads.

Akita — tall by Ninjago standards, short by Formling standards. Spent a lot of her formative years struggling after her people were froze in ice, but has been healing post S-11 after being reunited with her brother and people. Her wolf form is much bigger than a regular wolf, making it easier for her to scare off packs of wild animals and tote objects or people around the Never Realm.

Pixal’s battle form in comparison to her usual form and Zane.

[sanguine-melancholia]

asks right uhh zombies do you like zombies? wdyt is their relation to vampires??

i’ve never been super into zombies. i liked george a romero’s first two zombie films (though i prefer his film martin, surprise surprise) and i can appreciate what fears zombies are getting across. the loss of identity and the spread of untreatable disease are both terrifying concepts to me.

but zombies usually focus on the group rather than the individual and that doesn’t appeal to me as much. zombie movies are rarely about one specific case of zombiism. rather, they focus on a broader view, of swarms of people becoming zombies. (though, some movies do focus on one instance of zombiism, such as life after beth, where a guy grapples with the undeath of his girlfriend. i really liked that movie, and it used the medium of zombies to tell a super compelling story about love and grief and holding on to things lost)

i don’t like how dead zombies are on the scale of the undead. they don’t often retain any part of themself. they’re mindless, just walking corpses wearing the decaying visage of their previous life. and in most zombie media, once infected, victims beg for death before they lose themselves completely. a character turning into a zombie most often will end up with a bullet in their head. there’s no salvation, there’s no chance at “life beyond death” as, say in the form of a vampire or a ghost, where limited humanity is retained. to become a zombie is to lose all agency, all thought, all sense of self.

zombie media most often takes place in a post apocalyptic world, which also has never appealed to me. it’s always too bleak. prophetic notions and threats of an apocalypse, and even the early stages of an apocalypse interest me. but when it progresses to a state of hopelessness, when the inevitable end is the termination of life itself, when every second is a near futile struggle to stave off the end for just a little longer, i just can’t handle it. not that the media doesn’t have so much to say, i just can’t stomach it.

zombie media also very often employs mass impersonal violence, and that has never interested me. i’ve always preferred violence as an intimate act, deliberate, meaningful. zombie apocalypse survivors are expected to kill any zombie in their path, no remorse, no hesitation. watch onscreen as hundreds of animated corpses are ruthlessly destroyed en mass with bullets to their brains and don’t think about the fact that each one was once human. delight in seeing them get knocked down, in fact. these are enemies you can kill and love to kill, and not have to sweat the morality of it for one second

i appreciate the fact that most zombie movies do have moments of reckoning with the fact that these zombies were once human, and the destruction of their corpses is a bittersweetness at best. in dawn of the dead when a man is tasked with the killing of his friend who was bitten, there is the horror of the entire situation really shining through. yes it’s a mindless corpse, but it was once someone you knew. someone you loved. maybe a little part of them is still left in there. and you still must put a bullet in their head.

(this heart wrenching moment of having to kill a zombified friend/lover is portrayed so beautifully in early sunsets over monroeville by mcr, taking inspiration from the aforementioned scene in dawn of the dead)

that aspect of the zombie story is one that i enjoy. but i just don’t see it all that often. or if it’s there, it often takes a backseat. kinda how in supernatural they introduce the demon-possessed body as such a horrific and sympathetic situation, emphasizing the human soul still trapped in their conquered body, only to ignore or repress that information in order to more easily destroy demons. at a certain point in the show, little, if any weight is put on the fact that the slaying of the monster costs an innocent life.

zombie movies tend to follow that script. there’s always the knowledge in the back of the mind that what we are seeing are the remainders of actual human beings. but it only is brought up when it’s a character of importance who has become a zombie. a lot can be said about that view, reflecting the way many people only see the people they know as fully formed human beings. everyone else is an abstraction.

zombie media attempts to broach the horror of zombiism by portraying a sympathetic character who becomes a rotting shell of what they once were, but so rarely extend the sympathy to the hoard at large.

there absolutely are zombie stories that i enjoy, and probably more out there that i haven’t seen yet but would like. i haven’t yet watched warm bodies, but i do plan on it. i think that’s a zombie movie i would appreciate. romeo and juliet story where the power of love is the cure to the zombie virus. maybe a bit sappy but i do prefer it to the grim helplessness of the lack of a cure seen in a lot of zombie media

all in all i don’t dislike zombies as a medium of horror and expression. there’s a lot that zombies say (not actually lol) and they bring up a lot of issues. issues that i sometimes don’t like to face. out of all the monsters i can think of, the fate of the zombie is the most depressing.

a lot of the zombie media that im familiar with, especially the popular representations, either don’t address the depth of what the zombie implies— delegating the zombie to the role of depersonalized enemy horde that is to be killed with mass violence and not given an ounce of thought or pity— or do address the full horror of it, but in doing so, become just too bleak and hopeless for my taste.

because i’m not as interested in zombies as i am other horror creatures, i don’t know their full history and folklore. i know they were originally of haitian origin and had a vast shift in pop culture with movies such as white zombie and i walked with a zombie (haven’t seen either yet) but i don’t know much beyond that.

i do think it would be nice to learn more about them, because they have a permanent spot in the history of horror, specifically horror cinema, and i’m super interested in that, and because i do find some versions of zombies compelling and entertaining. especially the lesser known stories and the stories that subvert a lot of the popular zombie tropes that i dont care for

[theallianceofcelestials]

I really love the little scenarios people ask and I really wanted to ask one too hope it’s ok.

How would the family and eclipse react if eclipse for whatever reason be it scp related or a computer glitch lost his memory of them temporarily. Like it’s not gone forever he’ll get it back after whatever happened resolves itself

But he’s back to chapter one eclipse no idea who they are, what their capabilities are and why they are all in his room

I love these little scenarios, feel free to ask some more if you want to! I really don't mind, though don't expect me to answer any on mondays because that's just the worst

I also love love love this scenario, and I'm shaking you because I might just write an entire little what-if oneshot with this

So the family would be devastated after they realise what's going on. Which would be really fast, becuase Eclipse is genuienly terrified by these random people in his room, that looks vastly different from what he remembered.

He's especially terrified if it's one of those he went to sleep and woke up without any memory of his family, so he just bolted out of bed when someone started nudging him awake, and the smells of foor registered. Becuase neither of this should be possible, and was he somehow pranked?

And then there's probably Killcode before him, in all his nightmarish glory, so really, he can be excused for screaming he thinks.

This would alert everyone else, and they'd all rush to see what's wrong, which would just make everything worse.

He wouldn't believe them when they claim to be his family, because honestly who would want that? Who would want to spend time with him? But then they know what his favourite foods are, there's that book from that series he really enjoyed but couldn't bring himself to buy the next part of, there's a gaming console in his room which is something he was always interested in but always dismissed, and he can't ignore the notes inside his processor either, which all detail their traits and behaviour with a fondness that's alien to him.

Killcode would have to make the hardcall of pulling people back, asking their family to wait outside a bit. Eclipse from his notes, some of which are really just him bitching about stuff he doesn't like, would know this probably means the SCP(??!?!??!?!?!) wants to have an emotional conversation, or at least a serious one, which he is really not ready for seeing as he doesn't know this guy. For all he knows he got reset to a certain backup of himself, and the guy these people were family with is dead.

It'd be a teeth pulling conversation for both, because Eclipse would at least try, because these are SCPs and they may very well try to rip his face off.

He also wonders if perhaps the whole notes thing is just some weird SCP bullshitery, and he's just currently being experimented on. He doesn't dismiss this all just being an elaborate hallucination.

The whole day would be tense for everyone, with Eclipse trying to find a way out of this fake world or whatever it is, and everyone else just going insane over Eclipse not remembering them.

Solar Flare would try to remind him of stuff by showing him pictures it drew, hoping one would spark a memory.

Bloodmoon may go as far as trying to chase him down, hoping the trauma he suffered at their hand that one time would bring their brother back, even if when they finally tackle him all they end up doing is cry on top of him when he still looks at them without comprehension.

Sun would try and talk to him, because he can't exactly do anything. He doesn't know why his nephew has such a high opinion of him when he's not smart, he can't do magic and he's not strong either. And clearly he's useless again just like he was before the prison, because here's another family member not listening to him.

Lunar would try to pretend nothing is wrong at first, hoping if he's just stubborn enough Eclipse will magically remember and go back to his usual self. Neither of them are unaware of how flawed this logic is, but just like Sun, Lunar feels like he can't do anything either. He's just the childish baby brother after all.

Moon would obviously want to take a look at him. He's not above threatening Eclipse to submit, though he's not proud. When he can't find anything obviously wrong he'd start going off the deep end, locking himself in Eclipse's office to find some sort of cure.

Killcode would just silently stay away. He's done what he could, and now he doesn't know what to do. This has never happened, and there's no magical explanation he can sense, and clearly from his brother's reaction there isn't a scientific one either. Eclipse would some reason feel really uncomfortable and cold from that distance, which he'd dismiss with a scowl. But he does search for him when he's not there, which must just be from some form of malfunction, because why else would he do it? Why else would he humour any of them really?

At one point he'd just probably clonk out in the middle of what he was doing, causing alarm amongst the personnel, and his family.

Next day, he wakes up in his bed with a headache, his family around the bed, not even daring to be on it in fear he still doesn't remember them.

It's all heartfelt reunions after that, and Eclipse is now curious just what the fuck he did to lose of like the last year or so.

[altaiiriss]

On my queerplatonic series

tw: this post revolves around the headcanon that dazai has ARFID (avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder). if that triggers you, do not read further. stay safe!

while outlining dazai's character for my queerplatonic series (link here) i decided that he struggles with food. it's not the "typical" eating disorder, though.

dazai isn't obsessed with his body shape, doesn't care about keeping track of the amount of calories he's ingested, and isn't terrified of gaining weight if he eats more.

his distorted relationship with food originates from his general lack of interest in things, which includes food as well.

a lot of people headcanon dazai as someone who doesn't eat much, and i agree with that. dazai is so dominated by conflicted feelings and his intrinsic "fear" of desiring anything for himself that he just... doesn't have much interest in food.

to him the whole act of eating is a bother, a mere bodily function he wishes to avoid. sometimes when he's lying on his futon his stomach would start rumbling, but dazai couldn't bring himself to get up and eat something. he has no appetite, what's the point?

he doesn't even get much joy from eating. he loves crab, sure, but that's more of a safe food than anything, a sort of parachute preventing him from free falling into the depths of starvation.

this disorder manifested in a particularly intense way during the mafia years. it wasn't a safe environment at all, and dazai's mental health got in the way of his eating habits.

chuuya would forcefully shove some food down his throat sometimes. he's naturally a caretaker after all, he used to steal food for his friends when he was the leader of the sheep—hell, he even gave his mediocre portion away if some other kid was still hungry. how could he ignore that dazai was basically starving himself?

hirotsu would give him some candies and chocolate bars. even kouyou, who never liked him that much, invited him to drink some tea with her and chuuya in the afternoon.

dazai was getting progressively skinnier with each passing day, and in return chuuya got progressively angrier at him because the brunet would lose focus and dissociate on the battlefield or, worse, collapse from starvation ("it's not like i care about you or something, okay!? i just want to complete this mission and go home." )

it didn't happen that much, but dazai actually did collapse sometimes and chuuya made sure to get insanely mad at him and remind him that he needs three fucking meals a day to survive. dazai would fight back and scream at him with all the strength in his lungs ("this is none of your business. who do you think you are? why don't you go take care of your friends' graves and leave me alone?" )

sooo yep, they used to fight about this a lot, but as long as dazai ate something chuuya was okay with putting up with his shitty demeanor. he didn't mind fighting every other day if it meant dazai actually put some nutrients in his body.

leaving the mafia and joining the agency (plus seeing a psychiatrist, courtesy of yosano's perseverance) did wonders to his mental health, and his food habits changed as well.

his brain is nowhere near 100% functional, let's be clear—he still gets bad days and relapses in his old harmful habits, and he even ghosted his therapist at some point because that shit scares him. but being in a happier and safer environment helps for sure.

sometimes his coworkers share their lunch with him and even though dazai doesn't eat much, they never pressure him to take more bites.

when they host small parties in their office, dazai never leaves without eating something. who would have thought kunikida was such a great cook?

and yosano's small cakes? they are delicious. the strawberry one is his favourite.

since their reunion—which led to their confession and their decision to cherish the non-romantic and non-sexual connection that binds their souls together—chuuya learnt to deal with this aspect of dazai properly.

back in the mafia he was just a kid who knew nothing (damn, he literally raised himself on the streets, and that's why he's always been open about being gay—he literally had no idea homophobia was a thing) and the way he approached dazai's struggles wasn't even remotely healthy.

but chuuya grew over the years. not physically (much to his dismay), but he joined online communities, learnt a lot about mental disorders and read about people's experiences.

when he stumbled across an article describing a situation similar to dazai's, everything made sense.

"perhaps you view eating as a chore because no one has ever cooked a meal for you with love?" his therapist had asked once, and dazai had laughed at her.

but when chuuya cooked him a meal while he was running a fever, something shifted.

he never believed in such things, yet he could swear he tasted chuuya's feelings as he ate the soup on his plate.

care. worry. adoration.

love, even?

this is hilarious.

another day chuuya taught him the basics of cooking ("if eating bores you to death, then try eating something you have made. it's satisfying, you know? because you made it with your own hands." )

dazai hates when chuuya is right.

aaaand here we are in the current timeline of my series.

dazai is far from being perfect but he's doing infinitely better. he still doesn't have a big appetite, but he eats way more than he used to. most importantly, food generally tastes nice on his tongue now.

he still relapses in his old mindset sometimes—it's okay, that's part of the healing process—but there are a lot of people who have his back now.

he's loved and cherished and doesn't have to face the world alone anymore.

[majoryeager104]

im rlly freaked out rn cause the coyoetes are howling nearby my house rn and im already having trouble sleeping due to night terror

they sound like fucking sirens, from the sounds of em its a big pack of them

they probably just killed something from the yipping :/

could u maybe due a comfort fic (whenever you have the time, dont rush) of Dabi comforting a reader who gets really freaked out by coyoetes due to them losing a childhood dog to coyoetes?

hope ur doing well and taking care of yourself! Have a blessed night or day :3

I’m scared of em too 😭 I used to live out in the country growing up and when I’d take the trash to the end of the driveway I’d always bring my flashlight, and one night I heard like a crap ton of em and when I turned on my flashlight to look in the field across the street where I heard it there were like twenty of em and they all went dead quiet 😭😭😭 I was like ten and ran away screaming ofc but like I still think about it sometimes 💀

and I didn’t lose a dog to coyotes, but I did lose my baby goat sunshine to em when I was little, which was rough bc he was the sweetest lil thing T_T

anyways sorry this took me a while I was sick and had a migraine that lasted two days straight 🥲

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It had been a long time since you’d been in an area like this. A little ways out of the city, where you could see the stars clearer, and every night was filled with the sound of wind and crickets. You’d come out here to meet someone on a job, settling in an old building not far off from the road. It was cold, but you’d brought blankets, and had made it work. At least the building was in good shape- a lucky find out in these more rural areas. Dabi went with you of course, (he’d never let you go far for a mission alone) and was sleeping rather soundly in the calm environment, snoring softly at your side, totally peaceful.

But you on the other hand were very much awake, listening with your eyes wide open. Because you didn’t just hear crickets outside, or the occasional gust of wind making the windows creak; you were hearing coyotes, and they sounded close. It wasn’t your first time hearing them, of course, you’d grown up in an area very much like this, but maybe that was the problem. The sound of their barking and yipping made goosebumps crawl along your skin, up your arms and back, like the kind you’d get in an indescribably terrifying situation, despite the fact that you were currently very safe.

You sat up straight, the blankets you’d brought falling down and leaving you to be hit by the cold air. You couldn’t tell if you were shivering from the cold, or the twisted feeling in your gut telling you that you should have left this mission to someone else. Every howl and bark you heard brought back a single terrible memory, each second of it more visceral than the last. You were so trapped in thought that you didn’t notice Dabi sit up next to you, his blue eyes taking in your shivering.

“hey, what’re you doing up like that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, doll”

You flinched slightly at his voice, and at his sickeningly warm hand as it touched your shoulder. You were so on edge that you had him looking around like there was an intruder. “Hey. Y/n” he said your name a little louder than he’d spoken before, his voice still gruff and groggy from sleep. You looked over at him, the warmth of his hand not so disconcerting anymore as his worried tone shook you from your thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, relaxing a little now that you seemed less panicked. “Don’t you hear them?” You whispered quietly, just as a rather loud bark could be heard out the window. Dabi looked up, listening for a moment. “The coyotes? They’re not gonna get in here, you know, and if they did you know I’d burn em” he replied, his warm hand squeezing your shoulder. But he could tell there was more to it by your reaction. The way you shook your head and furrowed your brow, the way your eyes flickered between that fear and something else.

“y/n, just talk to me.”

He said it so simply as he tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was always so warm, his scarred arms feeling rough but ever so welcome against your skin. You sighed, leaning back as your racing heart steadied, the feeling of his calloused hands tracing circles on your stomach outweighing the coiled up anxiety in your gut. “I just hate coyotes… when I was little, I had a pet dog, and…”

You didn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to, really. Dabi sighed, his hands still working gentle circles under your shirt against your skin as he tugged you to lay down, his free hand tossing the blankets back over you, warming your formerly shivering body. “That sucks…’m sorry” he mumbled against your hair, pulling you closer against him. He didn’t really know what else to say, or do, really, till he got an idea.

He sat up, the warmth of his body leaving yours causing you to look up in confusion. He reached over for your bag, pulling out your earbuds. Before you could ask, or even sit up, he’d laid back down, pulling out your phone and sticking an earbud in your ear. “What’s your password- oh wait never mind I remember” he muttered, typing it in. How he knew it, you weren’t entirely sure. You glanced over at him, watching his blue eyes scan over the screen, scrolling for a moment. “You need new playlists. Your music taste sucks ass” he chuckled, tugging you closer with his free arm.

You didn’t object, your previous nerves satiated as you moved closer. The sound of the coyotes was muffled significantly by the earbud in one ear, as well as his heartbeat thudding softly against the other. He picked a tune and tossed your phone aside, sighing as he settled in again, the arm that he’d pulled you closer by wrapped around you and gently rubbing your side.

“don’t worry about the dogs, ‘k? Just go to sleep”

He said quietly, his voice vibrating through his chest and against your skin, the feeling so familiar and ordinary and yet so much more meaningful now as he used it to keep your worries at bay. He whispered and hummed till you eventually fell asleep, after all.

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Definitely the song he picked because I know for a fACT this man listens to way too much Radiohead

[roorreer]

Inquisition Replay Rambles #1

I'm replaying Inquisition and I want to ramble about it a bit. This is going to be a bit of analysis about his first conversation with Lavellan. This will be of course only my opinion, I think part of the appeal of Solas is there are so many facets to him that there's a lot that could be said depending on what speaks to you personally.

This will only be through the lens of Inquisition. I am not interested in discussing through VGs lens. Due to continuity, I will be referring to the Inquisitor as the Herald/prisoner/Lavellan depending on which is relevant.

But also I don't care, I just really want talk about Solas and make you look at screenshots so here we go.

It's very important to me to state how early in game this is. You potentially haven't even left Haven yet and I think that sheds some light on what exactly Solas' purpose is with this conversation. This unlocks after the Inquisition is reborn officially. In the game Solas is nowhere to be found during this scene but in universe Solas probably watched the Herald's first walk up to the Chantry after waking up.

Mere days ago a prisoner was dragged through Haven in chains. While we do not know exactly what happened between first appearing in front of the ruined Temple and waking in chains, it would not surprise me if Solas had pleaded for the prisoner's life. Not out of any affection but out of desperation. His Focus is still missing and whatever hope he has to regain it is the magic in the prisoner's hand.

He had talked with her on the march up the the Temple of Sacred ashes but she was still the Prisoner then; now the Herald of Andraste walks up to him.

He's testing the Herald.

Solas is gambling. He's desperately trying to predict where the dice will fall. He cannot retrieve the Mark or he would've already. What will she do with this power? Not only the ability to close the Rifts and Breach but also the sheer belief that is being placed on her. If she is capable enough he only knows that will grow.

He is in a very precarious situation. He is everything the Chantry despises and he is painfully aware of it. Still weak from waking from Uthenara just earlier that year. So to test her he offers her pieces of himself, who he is at his core - an Elven Apostate who seeks out the company of spirits - and waits to see what she says.

He is risking so much by these admissions. Templars wield the brand for lesser "crimes" than being an odd apostate. Elves are seen as spiritually and legally lesser, the Chantry declaring their souls further from the Maker. Spirit Healers face greater suspicion from Templars, terrified that they'll turn abomination due to their proximity to spirits. Dreamers are considered generally extinct (with Feynriel being stated to be the first in two centuries) but we can assume that a Templar would be even more terrified of one.

His dialogue then splits into two paths.

Lavellan can choose to either answer his question directly or instead question further on those intriguing thoughts he brought up. While personally I generally ask about him I do think there is merit in looking at the other options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.

With a single question he has a better understanding of the Herald. Of her foundations. While she may change as her power grows it gives him the starting block to try and analyze her. But Lavellan can turn this around, she can learn from him instead.

I have to give massive amounts of credit to GDL here because Solas' voice changes subtly when you ask him about his studies. Up until this point, Solas has talked a bit stiffly in those first few lines. As I said he is testing the Herald and there's this firmness underlying it as he refuses to reveal his hand. That drops from Solas' voice when he begins to talk about the Fade and his dreams.

This Solas is a bit freer, it crescendos if Lavellan compliments his skill. I sincerely doubt Solas had any idea that anyone would show a genuine interest in his cavorting with what the world would see as Demons and it shatters his previous pretense. This is unscripted and for a moment Solas glimmers through.

He even smiles. it's faint but the corners of his lips turn up.

This is a surprise but a pleasant one. Genuine appreciation was far beyond anything I think Solas could prepare for when he started this line of conversation. For a few moments they're just two people, sharing a pleasant discussion about his interests. What he learns of Lavellan is worthy of respect, albeit still tempered by his caution.

While I realize it is a game limitation - why record three versions of one line when one will do - there is something jolting about how his face sobers in the next line. That moment is gone, he can't let himself get too carried away. He stares off into the distance somewhere past Lavellan and his expression straightens. That sternness is back.

I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed.

He's back to subtly pushing the Herald, to see their reactions.

Was that in doubt? I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me./I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion.

There are a few layers of subterfuge here but I want to reiterate that he is taking a massive risk admitting this. In the middle of a conversation where he just confesses to being everything the Chantry hates he adds that he's been waiting to see if he should even stay and help. The Herald has the ear of the Former hands of the Divine and the former Templar who is the Inquisition's Commander while you can't in game for plot reasons there's no reason to believe that this couldn't go badly fast depending on Lavellan's possible bias.

Another piece of subterfuge that while he makes it sound like he had this revelation during this conversation, I actually think it happened earlier at the first Rift the Prisoner closed. He cannot leave the Inquisition until they discover what happened with his orb. He admits to willingly locking himself in a cage in one the disapproval scenes and in the other he refuses to leave even though the Inquisitor may have slaughtered an entire temple of Elvhen. Even punching him does not have him leave like it does with Dorian. He will endure abuse both physically and verbally for a chance to retrieve what is his.

Screenshots from Daitranscripts, second is from here.

Solas is a trickster and like a trickster he is pulling the rug out from underneath the Herald to see how she lands. He wants to prod and push and see if she snaps at his indiscretions. Is the Herald sympathetic or has Chantry dogma gotten them as well? And even the Dalish are suspicious of spirits. For an elven mage Herald he could be seeing if she'd be willing to sell out one of their own at a chance for survival.

While this is clearly Solavellan centric I do think it is worth looking at the non romantic options. Screenshot from Daitranscripts.

Once again by taking that risk, by putting himself in an unfavourable situation, he learns more about the Herald. He has another piece to the puzzle whether she's dismissive of his plight (and by extension of those of mages) or if she's sympathetic. He can also get a view of how she sees problems, whether she pushes them out of the way to deal with later or if she even thinks she has power to stop others.

So obviously you and I are here for the Solavellan so let's talk about it.

I adore that the romance choice is not "I'll protect you" but rather "You can trust me". Solas does not trust people, he is not a misanthrope by any means (so many of his motivations come out of his love for people) but he is constantly waiting for the knife in his back. He has been betrayed badly and I think that is a large motivation to his conversation here. He wants to know what problems could occur so he can be prepared for what he sees as the inevitable fall.

When Lavellan offers this, offers protection, he immediately tries to tear it down.

How would you stop them?

His voice drops, there's a gravely timber to it. He is demanding to know how. Not to know what her plan is but because I don't think he thought she had one. Solas probably took her offer as an empty platitude, one he could easily toss aside. Solas does not want to trust others and Lavellan offering a hand comes across as a threat regardless of her intentions. It would be worse if she was genuine and only later decided to betray him.

Now I cannot sit here and state Lavellan's meaning. There are as many answers to that question as there are Lavellans. Each one of my own Lavellan comes to a different conclusion. Whether because they may both be elven (?apostates) in an Andrastrian organization, whether Lavellan is genuinely interested in him/his friendship. It may be to return a favour she believes she owes him, he saved her life as well in the intro. Instead I'm going to shift to Solas' perspective.

He was either expecting nothing or for her to backtrack. Instead she looks at him with such determination and declares she would do whatever it would take.

This whole conversation was him trying to unsettle the Herald, to try and push them into a response so he can categorize them. Instead the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He freezes for a split second before thanking them, his voice is gentle and tender. That's all he can do. Whatever he was expecting by starting this gamble it wasn't this.

There's this gentle ebb and flow underlying this entire conversation. He pushes and she pulls, each of them taking turns leading and surprising the other. You can hear in Solas' voice when he has the conversation scripted, each word hand crafted for Lavellan to bounce her ideals from, but you can hear when she reaches beyond his expectations. When she hears underneath his stoic veneer and sees a man she genuinely wishes to know better.

I know a lot of people - myself included - see this as the moment when Solas falls for Lavellan. in part due to the fact that he is so touch and affection starved but I also think it has to do with this game he set up for her. He tested her - as if a shadowy figure in a fairy tale - and she turned it around on him. Subterfuge is his expertise and she flips everything upside-down by being so genuine with him that he cannot help but believe it.

And what i truly believe convinces Solas of this is that she isn't aware that she's doing it. She slips through his defenses for a second because of this. She had no ulterior motives in declaring that she'd keep him safe and he cannot help but for a moment trust her.

That is the foundation of their relationship. That for a few moments they can pretend to be who they really are and just love each other for that alone.