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borrovvedyoongi · 3 years

Text

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?”

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target.

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming.

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.”

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs.

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

#sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenario #sunghoon suggestive #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagine

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dadsbongos · 3 years

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Liebeskummer

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa: Killing Harmony Dynamic: Korekiyo Shinguji/Reader (and his sister shit but i actually take it seriously, unlike kodaka) Warnings: korekiyo’s backstory/trauma (his sister), sexual/physical/mental abuse implications (and outright said but not described in detail except the emotional and mental), anxiety in both kork and reader and mental breakdown(s?), airhead shit but it’s sad Summary: It’s all her fault. ~~~

Korekiyo suddenly turned to the girl beside him in his quiet research lab, “Have you ever heard of Jack of Fables, (Y/n)?” at her, albeit confused, nod, he continued, “Well, all those myths, fairy tales, and even nursery rhymes in reference to ‘Jack’ are actually about the same man. What this means is that Jack Be Nimble, of the candlestick, Jack the Giant Killer, who sold his cows then murdered and robbed a giant, Stingy Jack, who tricked the devil so relentlessly that he was banned from both afterlives, Jack of Jack and Jill, who cracked open his skull, Jack o’ Lantern, Spirit of Halloween and Headless Horseman, and Jack Frost, Spirit who ends autumn and begins winter are all one in the same. He made so many poor life decisions that he now serves as an immortal representation of winer with a pumpkin serving as head and flashlight. Is that not fascinating?”

“Aw,” (Y/n) grinned, nodding once again, “Like the American ‘Florida man’.”

Korekiyo sighed, disappointment palpable in his tone, “That is… actually much more accurate than I wish to admit.”

“Wait, wait,” she tilted her head, patting the man’s arm despite his attention already being on her, “So… like, was he also Jack the Ripper…?”

His eyes widened at her statement, “(Y/n), I must be grateful you were not born to the life of a woman of the night in Victorian London because I assure you, Jack the Ripper was incredibly real.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” she pouted before clearing it back into her usual smile almost instantly, “Well, thanks for the folklore fun fact, Kiyo! I didn’t know that Jack was so dumb! God, I’d hate to be like him…”

“You do realize you’re not so bright yourself, yes?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine with that, but at least I’m not tricking the devil!”

So sweet and kind, the Ultimate Composer was. Against all expectations, she wasn’t highbrow or traditionally genius, but she was more than excellent company. And, to top it off, the idea of turning her into one of Sister’s friends was oddly… sickening.

It should’ve been perfectly fine - she was a deeply respectable young woman unlike Miu and Maki, there’s no reason he could have against her.

It just felt wrong.

“Oh! Oh!” she burst out, clapping her hands together, before turning and reaching into a bag slung around her hip. Rooting through scrapped sheet music and notes, once she found what she’d been searching for she held it up excitedly, “Boom!”

Korekiyo took the item, just barely brushing his wrapped fingertips against hers, “Cleopatra’s Pearl Cocktail… much appreciated,” he pressed the small bottle into a pocket on his uniform, “If you enjoy giving gifts, perhaps we can discuss cultural gift-giving practices?”

“Ooh, Kiyo’s gonna teach me?”

“Hmm,” Korekiyo hummed quietly to himself, “Well, perhaps… you would prefer I tell you of a composition piece in relevance to mythology, yes?”

“That’d be nice,” the girl giggled softly, rubbing the back of her neck, “To be honest, I just like when you talk… you sound so smart all the time!”

“My thanks, (Y/n),” he nodded curtly, muttering to himself before coming to speak up, “Alright, I believe that the composition for you would be The Ring of the Nibelung, of Germany.”

“Oh, I know that one!” she knew most ‘ones’, to be fair.

“I had suspected so, but have you heard of the heroic legends behind the pieces?”

“Ah, no… are those what you’re gonna explain?”

“I had planned to, yes. Alright, well, the four parts, as you know, are The Rhinegold, The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and Twilight of the Gods. Nowadays, they are most commonly played as individual, separate works despite making one complete story. They were always intended as a sequence - as The Ring cycle, cleverly. Each piece revolves on a loose basis to German heroic tales and Norse legendary sagas, with the overarching tale of the magic ring forged by the Nibelung dwarf, Alberich, which grants the power to rule the world,” he paused at the sight of (Y/n) yawning, his lips pursed and eyes shot down to his shoes before flickering back up to the girl, “Ah, my apologies for taking far longer than necessary. You must find this- “

“Ah, no!” (Y/n) shook her head, waving her hands about as though it would physically prove how far from needed his apology was, “That’s not it! I’m just kinda tired, ya know?” as if to prove her point, another yawn washed over her, “I hadn’t slept well last night after Kirumi…”

“I see,” Korekiyo nodded, closing his eyes to think over his words, “I apologize for making it about myself. If you wish, I could walk you to your dormitory. Now that you mention it, it has been quite the long day.”

“You don’t have to, Kiyo, I’d hate to bother you so much in one day let alone one sitting,” the composer puffed her cheeks out, “That’d be so obnoxious…”

“I don’t find it obnoxious whatsoever, especially if it’s to aid- “ he hesitated, “to aid a friend.”

He hadn’t had friends before. People usually found him creepy and that was the end of the story - nobody approached him and he didn’t branch out. Life went on. The world spun. His loneliness was everlasting and yet nonexistent. He has Sister. Though, deep down, he knows. She’s on another plane of reality with loneliness stronger than his, that’s why he sends her respectable young women.

Just like (Y/n).

But just… not (Y/n). For reasons he personally chooses to not disclose to even himself.

“Aww, Kiyo! You care!” the girl placed a hand over her heart as if to show that the organ itself was squeezing in delight at his offer.

“Of course, I do,” Korekiyo didn’t like how quiet she made him. How jittery and nervous. And he didn’t like how it made him question the way Sister made him feel.

She also made him nervous but it felt different. He liked to pretend it was the nervousness of a love you don’t quite have yet, but he fully knows he’d be lying. She was a mean girl, a bully in school before being hospitalized. Prone to violent and outright frightening outbursts when she had the energy to do more than force him to her side.

But he didn’t like questioning those feelings for Sister. Who he was, was based on her. His uniform. His passion and talent. His hair. His perfect complexion. His life as the universe knows it is an ode to her.

It’s too late for him to go back now… he’s already done so much in her name it’d be cruel to give up now. He might as well continue for Sister.

“If you really don’t mind, then yeah, I’d like it if we could walk together… I get a little nervous going around at night, you never know who’s gonna snap…”

“And you trust me?”

Shit. That’s what gets him in trouble. It’s as Sister always said. ‘Too naive to make his choices, and once he’s free, too inept to make the right ones.’

“Well, yeah,” (Y/n) spoke as if there was hardly any thought to the answer, “All you’ve shown me is somebody worth trusting,” then, she’s quick to remember poor Kaede, “Well, maybe I’m being silly. But hey, if I have to choose between dying trusting my friends and paranoid beyond myself, then maybe I’d- “ she paused, “Ehhh, I don’t like the way that’s coming out.”

“I understand what you’re attempting to say,” Korekiyo reassured, turning towards his research lab’s exit, “Let us start towards the dormitories, yes?”

“Right!” (Y/n) nearly found herself jogging to catch up to Korekiyo’s long-strided head start, she clutched the strap of her bag as she did so, “So… you heard about Angie’s plan, right?”

“To perform a resurrection?”

“Do you think it’ll work?” she seemed antsier than was typical for her, “I mean, you’re into anthropology, so, like, has there ever been a case where that did work? Do you know?”

“No, besides, that would be more akin to history, remember?” she probably didn’t, her memory failed her at an ungodly amalgamation of best and worst of times.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured and nodded, pretending to recall the difference between the two.

“Who would you desire back into this game, if you could?”

“Rantaro,” her answer was quick, her fingers looping together nervously, “We didn’t really talk much, but uhm, whenever we did - he was really nice. He said I reminded him of a sister of his… so that’s a good thing, right?”

Depends on who you ask, really.

“You grew attached to him so quickly?” there was no jealousy there, he tried to convince himself.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I’d gotten to know him more. He was always running around, trying to save us, and in the end… it got him killed.”

A lot of things will get you killed.

Korekiyo shook off the thoughts racking his brain, “Your care for him even through his estrangedness and peculiarity is truly beautiful, (Y/n),” he fiddled with the locket piece hanging around his shoulders, “Even your care for myself. I’d be lying if I’d said it wasn’t endearing.”

“You’re not…” her words died out, not wanting to lie to a dear companion of hers, “You’re a little off-putting but you’re not undeserving of love, Kiyo.”

It was a complete 180 from what Sister had told him his entire life. A new lesson coming in far too late. He had to earn love. He should’ve been crawling on his knees and pleading for affection, but now he was supposed to simply receive it? It sounded so incredibly fake. A fictitious tale told alongside gumdrop fairies and candy trees.

No place for someone of realistic standard.

No place for him.

“You’re far too kind, (Y/n).”

“Maybe you just haven’t known nice people,” she suddenly stopped, slapping a palm to her mouth and muffling against it, “I’m so sorry!”

“Worry not,” Korekiyo continued walking, “I’m unphased.”

Because maybe it was true.

Maybe Sister wasn’t so nice.

There was an itch at his skin in the thought and he shook his head.

Sister was kind enough to love someone like him. Who was of rotted soul and rancid heart.

“I shouldn’t have just said that, especially since I don’t really know your life…”

“Would you like to learn it someday?”

(Y/n) was fairly shocked at how quickly he seemed to breeze by her insult to his family and friends - well, if he had any friends - but she wouldn’t refuse. It was extra time with Korekiyo! Who could turn that down?

“I’d love to.”

“Tea and cookies,” (Y/n) pumped a fist in the air, “What could be better than enjoying those with a friend?”

Korekiyo felt his lips twitch up behind his mask at the rhetorical question, he reached out for his teacup, “Perhaps freedom from this killing game?”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” she deflated, “Jeez, I can’t believe I’d say that…”

Oh, great, of course, now he’s gone and made the local ball of sunshine in this school upset.

“Nevermind that, (Y/n), it was a tease…” he gripped the cup a little tighter, cheeks heating up in humiliation at his failed joke, “I apologize if it seemed like anything other than such.”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine! It was kind of a dumb thing to say, now that I put some brain into it,” so it made sense she’d said it, (Y/n) frowned at the bitter thought.

“Ah,” the clink of a cup against the table caught the girl’s attention, “I must change my mask in order to properly enjoy this tea and these cookies,” as the anthropologist went to turn, he was stopped by another outburst from the girl.

“No, don’t! Uh, here!” she clenched her eyes shut, papped her palms over her face, and turned her head downwards, “See? Now I can’t!”

“You don’t have to go to such lengths, I could simply turn- “

“No, no, I want you to feel comfortable and I heard once that doing things to make your friends comfortable is, like, a way to make them like you more?” she huffed at the wording, “Just, I don’t know… I want you to know that I care. Ya get it? No need to turn yourself away like that when I can just not look.”

A tuft of air passed through his nostrils at the girl.

Sister would adore a friend like her.

Korekiyo pulled down his mask, brows drawn tight towards his eyes at the new realization. It was no longer a matter of her being respectable, it was now the knowledge that someone as tender-hearted as (Y/n) would be loved beyond comprehension by Sister.

But… no. Sister couldn’t have her. She’d understand, right? Of course. She could have someone else - the other bubbly girl, what’s her name? Angie. She could have Angie.

Korekiyo just… he just needed (Y/n). Something about her was calming and sweet. He picked his mask for eating from a pocket in his uniform and carefully adjusted it over his lips so as to not smudge his lipstick. It wouldn’t anyway, he knew this, but it usually never backfired to be too sure.

The lipstick in itself was quite the hassle. Another homage to Sister that she might not even be seeing. So was the hair. It got tangled and knotted and was hell to dry after a shower.

“Not to rush you at all, but are you done? Cuz my eyes are starting to hurt… I think I’m squeezing them too hard.”

“Right, yes, I am.”

He really shouldn’t think like that… Sister deserved to be honored.

As if she’d been reading his mind, (Y/n) leaned over slightly, pointing at Korekiyo’s hair, “Hey, hey, how do you manage that? It always looks so silky and soft and well-kept.”

“Ah, well, it is quite troublesome most days, but with patience and rather expensive products, I keep it together.”

“I was wondering, too, do you ever put it up?”

“Not usually, though, that would be… nice on occasion,” he sipped at his tea, enjoying the way (Y/n) shyly glanced away to prove she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She was too delightful to be in a place such as this, even if he did enjoy the beauties of law-absence.

“Uh, I don’t want to come off pushy or like you have to let me, but if you want, I’d love to put your hair up! To be honest, I’ve been wanting to for a while,” her eyes widened at her own statement, “Oh, that sounded creepy. I’m so sorry.”

“I am hardly one to judge,” he reached over for a cookie, “But, if you’re so inclined, I won’t protest.”

“Yay!” she bounced slightly in her chair, “Oh, that’s great, Kiyo, thanks.”

“Shall we go to your dorm after finishing our refreshments?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/n) grinned.

And to think she almost didn’t approach Korekiyo on that first day in the school. How ridiculous could she have been to judge based on looks? Sure, he was a little strange and the way he spoke was unlike any teenager she’d ever met, but he was still a person. He deserved to be given companionship.

Besides, he’d only ever shown her kindness and support.

He didn’t even make fun of her when she said something stupid in front of everyone.

She cringed at the memory of every time Kokichi or Miu or Maki prodded at her. Even Ryoma and Kaito had picked on her when she misspoke during the first trial and just brought up a point the class had already proven. It made her heart wrinkle and shrink at the mere thought. Kokichi still made fun of her for questioning Tsumugi’s whereabouts during Rantaro’s murder.

“You’re staring into your tea, it will grow cold if you only look at it.”

“Oh, yeah,” shaking her head, (Y/n) silently cursed herself for spacing out. What an awful habit of hers, it was, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“You shouldn’t apologize, I’m not upset in the slightest,” he felt his heart lighten at the tiny smile that illuminated her face, “I simply enjoy spending this time together.”

“You’re too nice sometimes, Kiyo,” she giggled, but they both recognized the tingle of nervousness jumbling within it, “If you’re not careful, I might fall for you or something…”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

I wouldn’t mind, she wanted to say.

If you’ll have me, he wished to murmur.

Then he felt his chest tighten.

“Can I…” he tapped a finger to the table, “ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Uhm,” she bit her lip as she thought back, “No… why?”

“How do you think it feels?”

“Like, you could be free and yourself around the person? I’m not too sure, but I think if you and someone else are in love then you’ll accept each other completely, you know? Sure, there’s flaws in every person, but I think you accept those, too.”

“I see…”

“Kiyo, why do you ask?”

“I…” his brows furrowed, “A lot has been on my mind as of late.”

“Alright, I won’t pry,” standing from the dining table, (Y/n) clapped her hands together, “Now, if you’re still down, I’d love to put your hair up!”

“As it stands, I am still, as you put it, ‘down’,” Korekiyo nodded before joining the girl and starting towards her dorm room.

“Nice!” she pointed directly ahead, “Now, onward!”

A total airhead at her truest, Korekiyo thought. He didn’t usually partake in the type, but something about (Y/n) just pulled him in tighter every time he tried turning away.

So, what’s the harm in giving in? Swimming against the tide only ever led to drowning anyway, so why fight it?

Sister… Sister was dead. Is dead. Resurrection isn’t possible and hasn’t been in human history. And she had changed so much of him. (Y/n) would never force him to bend to her ideal.

The more he thought about Sister in comparison to (Y/n), the more he realized that Sister felt like a ball and chain - and (Y/n) felt like a breath of fresh air.

Just her name inside his own head sounded as sweet as the best form of heaven.

“Here we are!” (Y/n) cheered upon their arrival to her room, “There’s probably a bunch-load of unfinished works in here so just… don’t judge them too harshly, okay?”

“I could hardly judge an unfinished masterpiece.”

“I don’t know about masterpieces…”

“If you create them with heart and soul, there’s nobody who can effectively say they aren’t except for yourself,” Korekiyo enters the room after her, legs carrying him towards her desk as she roots around her bathroom for a hairbrush and hair tie, “Sadly, this is also applicable to disasters with effort put into them. However, just from skimming these, I can tell you they are not such disasters.”

“Aw, thanks, Kiyo, you know - I know I’m the Ultimate Composer and junk, but jeez it gets so nerve-wracking when people hear my stuff. I like what I write, but who’s to say other people will?”

“I understand that. Showing others your work is extremely unsettling at times,” he followed the girl to her bed and sat between her knees on the floor, “I recall feeling that way when I would dabble in artistry.”

“You can draw?”

“I would when I was much younger,” he felt her fingers run over his scalp and through his hair and the weight looming over his shoulders practically melted off, “I haven’t held onto any of them, and they’ve likely aged poorly, but I know how I felt showing them around.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind my asking,” reaching around, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Korekiyo’s bangs and, as gently as humanly possible, pulled the hair hanging over and around his face back into a slicked style.

“My… sister, she always rathered that I participate in anthropology with her. I wasn’t all that good anyways.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sad. Even if you weren’t good, you could’ve improved over time.”

“Do you truly believe that, (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I mean, talents are just developed over time, right? Angie didn’t pop out of the womb an art genius and I didn’t start off great at writing music, you just keep at it and eventually your skill level is way better than when you started.”

Sister always said he’d be garbage at drawing. Somebody like him could never learn.

She tied off and twisted until the bun was perfect - well, not perfect. It was presentable enough, and it was just a bun anyway! Not like they had anywhere to be.

“Sorry it’s messy,” she scratched at her cheek, feeling anxious that he’d be upset with her work.

“I…” he felt another little smile peek over him, it was indeed messy with stray hairs sticking out here and there and a few tiny bumps running over his head, but even so, “I love it.”

“You do?”

“It’s a gesture from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Standing beside Korekiyo at the mirror, (Y/n) twiddled her thumbs before spewing out her question, “It’s totally cool if not, but can I hug you? Sorry if that’s weird!”

“No… it’s…” Sister never asked to touch him, and now that he thought about it, she never seemed to care when he told her to stop, “That would be wonderful.”

As her arms slowly came around him, he felt truly at ease. With Sister, there was always this fear of never being what she wanted. That she hated him deep down. With (Y/n), it felt like finally being attached to someone you were meant to. Returning to a place of deep affection.

“You truly do care about me, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

“What kind of question is that?” she back-pedals, “I mean, of course, I do. You’re very dear to me, Kiyo.”

Maybe even a little too dear, considering the current climate of the killing game.

But even so, neither of them pulls away. Neither cares enough to wrangle themselves from indulging in the other’s touch. It feels too good against their skin.

It’s then that Korekiyo’s brain strikes the flint to create the burning thought - maybe Sister wasn’t all that great. Maybe Sister didn’t love him.

She’s only ever made him miserable, now that he recalls it all.

(Y/n) doesn’t. She makes him feel human and alive and adored. He likes the way she makes him feel. And between the two, he much rather would be praised than berated.

Oh God, what did this mean again?

Where do the creation myths go?

Who’s Princess Kaguya?

Her head throbs at the thoughts rumbling through her. She tried to get Korekiyo to get someone, anyone, but her to organize his notes.

Shuichi would love this stuff! You two should bond!

Gonta could learn about being gentlemanly from you! It’d be a great learning experience!

I know you don’t like Miu that much, but maybe spending more time together could make you understand each other more?

Anyone.

And yet, Korekiyo denied. He liked spending time with her. He wouldn’t mind answering every question she had - no matter how many times she asked it. He was a patient person, he could handle it.

(Y/n) looked at all the books and stray papers surrounding her alike, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in focus and face beating hot in vivid embarrassment. He wasn’t even looking at her, thank God, but still… it was so mortifying that she’d already lost track of what she was doing.

She tried so hard to pay attention, she really, really did!

She wanted to help so bad. She wanted to be useful so bad.

But she knew… she’s not a smart person, per se. It was beaten over her head repeatedly her entire life by her family, schooling, peers, and even her friends. She was an idiot who couldn’t do anything right.

It’s why she wanted Korekiyo to ask someone else.

But how could she say no to him? He was always so nice, it’d be downright mean to refuse him. Right?

She felt her eyes burn, vision growing blurry through tears. Setting down the papers in her hands - (Y/n) covered her eyes to keep any wetness from splotching the notes below. It was the least a fucking moron could do.

“(Y/n)? Are you feeling okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She nodded shakily, just wanting Korekiyo to ignore her and continue his work. Better yet, he’d kick her out and she could dodge the incoming humiliation altogether.

“Yeah,” her voice cracked, lips trembling.

Goddammit.

She heard papers rustling before she could feel the presence at her side. Fingertips just barely grazing her body before hesitating back, “You’re lying.”

Understatement of the year.

“I just… I’m so sorry, Kiyo. I’m such an idiot, I knew I couldn’t do this,” she whimpered, desperately trying to grab and suffocate down her bubbling sobs before they wracked her throat, “I’m too fucking dumb to do anything right… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re no idiot,” he’s immediately slammed with every memory of every time he’s called her such a thing. No matter how nice he tried to be about it, he still aided her insecurity, “I’m sorry for ever saying you were. Intellect is not measured by how well you can do a task nor should everyone’s mind be measured the same. Intelligence is fickle and is spread over a vast variety of subjects. You’re not an idiot for not being able to do something you’re not accustomed to.”

“I just… I- I wanted to help you but then I forgot everything you said about organizing them and then which regions are which and what even is a gorgon?”

He chuckled quietly at her question, “A creature in Greek mythology most commonly in reference to three sisters - Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno - with hair made of living, venomous snakes that turned those who so much as looked upon them to stone,” he glanced around at what (Y/n) had gotten done, “I see that the filing in relation to music is nearly completed for your half.”

“That’s about all I’m good for.”

“And I would not have managed that so easily, music was never an incredible strength of mine - though I do admire it.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kiyo…”

“I would never,” he moved his notes away to sit more comfortably next to the girl, “In fact, if you’d be willing to listen…” his throat tightened and heart thumped in his chest, “I would like to tell you of something that’s been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Yeah,” she wiped away her tears, sniffling, “of course.”

“I told you of my sister, correct?” he waited for her nod of confirmation to continue, “Well, it’s my belief that…” his fists clenched.

What if she didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him? How do you tell someone your older sister raped and abused you when you’re barely even coming to terms with the fact yourself?

“(Y/n), I…” he stopped, gut bunching in knots before he suddenly ripped down his mask and turned to face her, “I think I need help…”

“What? You’re just wearing lipstick, Kiyo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, no, no, no,” he shook his head, hands shaking wildly as he pulled out the ponytail (Y/n) had done up earlier and yanked through his hair, “E-everything I am is because of her! She consumes me even in death! She- she- she hurt me…”

“Oh,” the girl moved to sit up on her knees, hands reaching out but not yet touching him, “What happened, Kiyo? You can tell me, I’m listening.”

“She told me I was an awful boy, nobody but her could love someone so foul and creepy… she- “ he moved to grip his sleeves, “She touched me,” he looked into the girl’s eyes, “Is it my fault? Am I so disgusting? Why would she do this?”

“Do you want me to hold you or no?” at his shaky nod, she instantly took Korekiyo into a hug, cradling his head and shoulders to her body and stroking through his hair, “You’re more than what she made you. You’re bigger and better than her manipulation. And it’s not your fault she did what she did. It’s completely and totally on her. She took advantage of you, Kiyo, that’s not your fault.”

He grabbed her arm and pressed his face into her shirt as she held him, “Am I rotten? Am I lovable?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re worthy of love and care.”

His lipstick smeared over her shirt and across his cheek and neither of them minded. It would wash off eventually. Her stain on his life would come out.

“When we get out,” (Y/n) began again, “do you want to seek professional help? You can get it, Kiyo.”

He was slow to nod, beginning to grow tired from dosing out tears and trauma at once, “I do… thank you, (Y/n)...”

“No need to thank me.”

“(Y/n)?” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, “Even if it isn’t for field work… I wish to travel the country with you. I want to show you the beauty of humanity as I know it… for our sakes.”

Looking down, (Y/n) caught the gentleness in his eyes, tender and soft and awaiting her response, she smiled softly, brushing back his hair, “I would love to, Kiyo. If it’s truly something you want to do, I would be happy to go anywhere with you.”

Nighttime was quickly approaching and with the atmosphere and turmoil of the class, (Y/n) didn’t feel very safe being out so late.

“You’re certain you don’t wish for me to walk you to your room?”

“No, you finish up here,” (Y/n) waved off Korekiyo’s offer, “Don’t be such a worry-wart, yeah? I’ll be fine! You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, though.”

He nodded, a small smile stretching over him, “I will, dear (Y/n), don’t worry.”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she returned his beam, “You have a cute smile, Kiyo.”

“Oh,” right, he didn’t have his mask on at the moment. It was refreshing to wake up and not trouble himself with makeup for a woman he wasn’t sure even cared - dare he say it, it was nice, even.

He’d only taken his mask off around (Y/n), it felt intimate. Sweet. Something passed only between them.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before turning back and pressing outward from his research lab, “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Kiyo! You better have the sweetest dreams, ya hear me?”

“You as well.”

He returned to cleaning up his lab, occasionally stumbling over a floorboard looser than the others. How troublesome.

That’s when her voice picked up from within his brain.

“You never loved me.”

He looked around despite knowing exactly where the voice was coming from.

“You let her do this to you. You let her take you from me.”

Pushing past them, he persisted in rooting through his notes and organizing his papers.

“She hates you. She’s scared of you. She’s just trying to be nice. You scare her. You scare all of them. You rotten, rotten boy. You’ve been ruined - only I could love a face so hideous and broken. A horrible, horrible boy lucky enough to be given the love I did.”

His hands shook, fingers twitching and heart thrumming heavy, “No. (Y/n) likes me. She enjoys my company.”

“Why would she enjoy the company of someone so lonely and depressing? So gross and foul? She probably hates you for partaking in your own sister’s touch.”

“No, she- she doesn’t… she knows it’s not… it’s not my fault…”

“Are you inside her head? How do you know? How are you certain? I’m the only one who ever loved you - and you’ve abandoned me. Left me all alone.”

“No, I- I haven’t abandoned you, Sister! Please, believe me, I never abandoned you.”

“So, you know what you must do to prove yourself to me.”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like that…”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like you anyway.”

She’s right, right? She’s right. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as (Y/n) could never adore him the way he does her. He loves her and she must find him repulsive. Staying out of fear.

Out of pity for the boy abused by his sister. And so, who better to return to than the more predictable of the two?

(Y/n) may have felt more like coming home than Sister - but Sister was home. (Y/n) was comfort. Sister was familiarity.

He found his foot planted against the loose floorboard once again. He knew how he had to make up for his misdeeds and abandonment.

“I’m truly relieved to see that you got to your room safely,” Korekiyo murmured to (Y/n).

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she pointed over to their local gentle giant, “Gonta and I crossed paths on my way and he wanted to walk me to my room and I just couldn’t say no to him. It’s nice to have someone you trust in this ‘game’. Well, other than you,” the elevator jumbled slightly as it dove down into Monokuma’s makeshift courtroom, “I trust you, obviously.”

She shouldn’t. And he wants to tell her that.

But as Kokichi and Shuichi take glances at him from across the elevator, he knows that she’ll figure things out soon enough.

And, during the trial, when Shuichi’s convicting Korekiyo of the murder of Angie Yonaga and Tenko Chabashira - she does. And she cries and screams and throws a fit. Demanding Korekiyo to fight back harder. Demanding Shuichi to stop lying and get serious. Because Korekiyo would never kill somebody.

He was nice. He was a gentleman. He cared about people. He had stolen her heart - and a man who managed that wouldn’t kill anybody. So, of course, Shuichi was lying.

“Do I have to remind you of what’ll happen if you don’t vote?” Monokuma bit out.

(Y/n) clutched at her hair - she knew what she had to do. But every time she went to vote for Korekiyo, her body wouldn’t let her.

Reaching over, the boy himself took her hand in his, “Allow me,” as he guided her hand over her voting panel. No matter how she swatted at his hand or tried to wrench herself from Korekiyo’s grip, he pressed her vote into his name.

She was forced to watch as he was strung up and spun. Made dizzy and sickly. She was made to watch as he fell into the melting pot. Fires eating at his body until he was no more than spirit.

As Monokuma and the sister who had harmed him so horrifically worked as one to rid the world of his soul.

Eyes went to (Y/n) as the execution subsided. Her sobs and hiccups drawing everyone’s attention.

Gonta was the first to approach, a large hand settling on the girl’s back as she cried, silently taking her into a hug.

Her heart wrenched, fingers squeezing at Gonta’s suit and throat rubbing raw with her wild wails.

He could’ve gotten help. He could’ve gotten out with everyone. If she’d just stayed with him then she could’ve done something. Angie and Tenko would be here. Korekiyo would be here.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kaito’s voice peeked through, “Don’t cry because he’s gone, (Y/n). Move forward - for both of you.”

“I…” she shook her head, choking on a sob, “I don’t think I can…”

Shuichi placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, “Just give her a little time.”

As the group moved out of the courtroom, Gonta stayed by (Y/n)’s side up until she clumsily made her way into her dorm room.

Immediately, she collapsed into her bed sheets. Dreading tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Maybe she should’ve known better than to go around falling for a guy in the killing game. Maybe she should’ve held herself up in her room all alone.

There was no escape from this feeling. No hiding. It may get better over time - but Korekiyo would always be gone.

A buzz at the door caught her attention. Her movements were sluggish, honestly just hoping that whoever was there had given up and left by the time she finally answered.

Shuichi stood there, classically uneven, anxious smile and all, “I think there’s something you might be interested in? If you’ll follow me.”

No verbal response was given, only (Y/n) stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her to give him her confirmation.

He began towards the casino. With a sigh, (Y/n) was about to tell Shuichi off - she didn’t need to start gambling to get over Korekiyo’s death - until he stopped in front of the building.

“I mostly just wanted you to get some fresh air,” he says earnestly before digging in his pocket and pulling out a key with a heart-shaped handle, “I got this from here. You can get your own or keep this one, I think you need it more than I do,” at her confusion he continues to explain, “It can take you into this weird dream-like state where you can see what ‘ideal’ you play in our classmates’ minds… I think you know who I gave this to you for.”

“Kiyo…”

“Yeah. You can see him again, if you want.”

She wanted to be strong and push the key back into Shuichi’s hand - instead, she just looked between him and the key in her hold and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Shuichi…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep well, (Y/n). I know you can grow past this.”

Because he did.

“I’ll try.”

But he wasn’t her. And Kaede was gone far before Korekiyo. And their grief was not the same.

“Thanks again, Shuichi.”

“Just take your time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Her knees felt like collapsing under the weight of her nerves, hand falling to the doorknob of the hotel room.

She pushed through her anxiety and found herself in a red-tinted room, a large heart-shaped bed in the center with a merry-go-round circling it. Then, she found Korekiyo standing to the side.

What would his ‘ideal’ version of her be? A friend? An out-of-touch acquaintance? A lover?

Her heart throbbed at the last possibility.

“Ah, my dear, back so soon?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m, uhm, not sure?”

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.

“Then don’t,” he seemed to glide across the room, taking the girl’s cheeks in his hands, “You’ve always had a problem with that, my love.”

My love? My love.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” she huffed at her own word selection, “Oh…”

Korekiyo chuckled quietly, pulling down his mask to kiss her forehead, “I already took my medication while you were out.”

“Your medication?”

“Yes, from the doctor. You were the one who pushed me to go, have you forgotten?”

“Right! No, no, I just blanked,” she quickly lied, giving the boy a broad grin, “I’m glad, though.”

“It’s only medication, dear.”

“Still,” (Y/n) reached up to cup Korekiyo’s cheek, “it’s good that you’re following through with your meds.”

“Your support always helps,” he pressed another kiss to the girl’s forehead, “We’ll be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, I should warn you,” at her furrowed brows he explained, “In order for us to catch the first train to Iwate prefecture. Did you forget, darling?”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…” she waited for his nod before tossing out her suggestion, “We’re traveling for field work!” she was then quick to tag on, “As a couple that’s, like, super in love?”

“You didn’t forget at all, my love,” Korekiyo pulled away slightly, and sat on the bed, removing his shoes, “You play that memory of yours down too much. You’re far more intelligent than you think.”

“You think that?”

“Of course, I do. It’s not just because I love you dearly, either. You mustn’t let the words and actions of others control your opinion on yourself - you’re better than they say.”

This is his ultimate fantasy. He’s her lover. They travel and see the beauty of humanity together, just like what he said he wanted. He loves her. He thinks she’s so great.

He’s wrong.

She should’ve stayed with him that night.

He’s wrong.

She could’ve done so much to keep him with her.

He’s dead.

Because she should’ve stayed.

“Kiyo,” her eyes burned and began to soak, “I’m sorry!” her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted with her sporadic breaths, her hands clutching at her shirt. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed to the ground, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a stupid, stupid, stupid failure! Please… forgive me…!”

Korekiyo immediately stood up and rushed to (Y/n)’s side, bringing her into a tight hug as she fell to the floor, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses at her temple and cheeks, waiting until her cries settle enough for him to be audible in the room, “It’s interesting, dear, I first realized I’d fallen in love with you in a situation similar as this. I desired to comfort and reassure you just as I do now. You’re not stupid nor a failure, and I adore you above all else.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) only began to cry harder into Korekiyo’s chest. This could’ve been their future. This could’ve been what they had to share and hold between only each other. If she’d only stayed. If she’d been with him that night.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep back her cries, “I- I- it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, darling,” Korekiyo held her tighter, “I love you, my dearest (Y/n). No matter what you’ve done, I will always forgive you.”

And once again, her tears only came out harder. Her head pounding ruthlessly at the ache and consciousness fading out in her exhaustion. Korekiyo was dead. And no amount of her tears could ever bring him back.

#korekiyo shinguji x reader #korekiyo x reader #shinguji x reader #drv3 x reader #he deserved so much better :(( i wuv him #let me know if i miss anything with the warnings

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knight-queen · 2 years

Text

AMNESIA Halloween 2021—Trick or Treat!

For Orion

Fufuhー!

Today is the long-awaited Halloween! Let’s get started on grabbing a huge pile of candies?

...Mhm, after all you are really childish so a perfect one for you. Everyone out there is giving their best shot!

Anyways, we shall get going to join the others as well. Undoubtedly you should have remembered the custom phrase, right?

It’s Trick or Treat!

You will get tricked if you don’t give chocolates, you know?

For Toma

Ah, you were even keened to put on a costume this year. Really adorable. But this is...nope, never mind.

...By the way, speaking of candies, I happened to have absolutely forgotten about those. My bad.

But it’s not like I am apologizing though. Since trying to trick me is favorite in your to-do list, which one will you choose?

For Shin

Here you go, candies.

...Oi, why are you suddenly frowning?

Ha? You wanted to trick me? You cannot easily do that with me, idiot.

By the way, you are even doing this cosplaying…

Overly enthusiastic one, aren’t you?

It’s all good as long you are not showing it to other guys.

...And also, can you manage to get home afterwards? I don’t need candies so I’ll go with the trick.

For Ikki

I see…

To think of you being really restive these days, so this was the reason.

Not to mention the costume, but the reserved appearance you’re having is the most eye-catching.

Tell me, if I do not give you candies...I wonder what kind of trickery would you do?

For Kent

I knew you love such events but for you to even do the cosplay things were…

It’s not like it does not go well with you. It’s...

You’re looking so cute, it merely made me shocked seeing this.

....Anyways, Happy Halloween. That being said, you must receive these chocolates I assume.

For Ukyo

Uwaah…! You’re looking really great in this costume! Let me capture a picture for the commemorationーーoh, one more thing before that.

I cannot hold back without giving you chocolates it seems. I have chosen to be with him together, specially for you....

Oh? There aren’t any chocolates there!?

S-sorry! I’m about to get those for you from home right away, so this is why I wanted to mischief you a bit...

Why wouldn’t you let me?

#happy halloween ya'll #Amnesia #otome games #Amnesia translation

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spiderling-space · 4 years

Note

Remember when I asked for headcanons for dorm leaders with an s/o that’s a chaotic dumbass and half their relationship is them yelling “mc NO.”? Can I have headcanons them going trick or treating with the same s/o? She makes a perfect replica of their dorm attire and dresses up as them, complete with wigs, fake horns/ears, etc. for her costume. Thanks in advance love~

I looked at this request and couldn’t think of anything to write for until 30 minutes ago though I couldn’t include choaticness no matter how much I tired. The words and sentences just formed in my head. God I wish this would happen during the exam times asdfgh

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is nervous about knocking on people’s door and asking that silly question since he is too old for it according to Halloween rules but his girlfriend reassures him that it is okay.

He is a stickler for rules and wishes Queen of Hearts had rules for this day. Since there isn’t any rule for it, he asks Cater and Trey what are the rules for Halloween and he even turns to Ace and Deuce to learn more. After getting enough information, he makes a plan for Halloween night; which colored houses they should ring the bells.

He is excited about Halloween since he never had the opportunity to attend these types of events before. He is flattered when (Y/N) dresses up as him. That means she respects and cares about him to dress up like him. Riddle is happy that she even paid attention to the smallest details. He knows Queen of Hearts would be proud of her for this skill, making him think that he made the correct choice by dating her.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

Leona hates noise and things that take a lot of effort to do. Going to trick or treating is one of them. If his girlfriend really wants to get candies, all she needs to do is stop beating around the bush and tell him. He would send Ruggie to buy whatever she wants.

Leona smirks when he sees that (Y/N) dressed up as him. He needs to admit she looks extremely attractive while wearing his clothes. He will keep this in his mind.

Leona and (Y/N) decide to compromise in the middle so that they could spend some time together specific to Halloween. They will visit only a few houses then they will be back to Savanaclaw but if (Y/N) still wants to go out for trick or treating, Leona isn’t one to stop her since she can make decisions on her own but he will offer to send Ruggie with them so she won’t be alone.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a businessman who uses every opportunity for capitalism.

He made a plan for trick or treat for himself, his girlfriend, Jade and Floyd. They would get the best and the most candies if they choose those houses and stick to the timings. Azul is going to use those free candies in Mostro Lounge. How could he say no to free resources?

What Azul didn’t expect is that for (Y/N) to dress up as him. He asks the reason since he thinks she must think as a goofy or villainous individual. He feels a lot better when she says she dressed up as him since she loves likes them a lot, he feels a lot better. They go out immediately to not waste any time to get candies.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Kalim Al Asim

Surprise for (Y/N)! While she dressed up as Kalim, Kalim dressed up as his girlfriend and neither told the other what they planned to wear

Going to trick or treat is challenging for them since Jamil insists on checking out every house they will ring the bell of before they do. He thinks there can be an assassin for or they might poison Kalim. While it is a necessary thing, it causes them to visit fewer houses. Kalim and (Y/N) eat some of the candies and chocolates they got while they wait together for Jamil’s

Luckily for the couple, Kalim gets a lot of candy which makes up for the lack of houses they visit. All he needs to do is smile at the person and they give him the best candies they have.

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Vil is flattered by (Y/N)’s choice of costume. Was there anyone better to dress up as?

Vil might like what his girlfriend wore but she still has a long way to go before she can make a perfect replica of his style. The first thing to take care of is the skin and the hair. Why did she think a wig would be enough?

As for trick or treat, Vil is a celebrity, he can’t let his name be tarnished and also he thinks it is a childish thing to do so he doesn’t go out for it. He even asks his girlfriend to do the same thing. He can’t date someone whose reputation is questionable.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia isn’t certain how to feel about this but he is impressed by what his girlfriend used for his hair.

He thinks maybe they could dress up as an anime couple next time for the next anime-con since he has seen her talent up close.

Idia hates going outside so he sends his tablet with (Y/N) to go trick or treat. Ortho joins them since his brother was so excited for this day and wanted to experience it himself.

At the end of the night, Idia and (Y/N) share the candies they collect though Idia didn’t collect any since he wasn’t there in person and sent equipment instead.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is raised as a crown prince. If he wanted something, it was given to him the next second. Additionally, he has no idea on human traditions.

When he sees (Y/N) dress up as him, he is confused because he doesn’t know the reason.

(Y/N) offers to take him to this thing called trick and treating and Lilia, Sebek and Silver follow them from a safe distance.

His girlfriend rings the doorbells and says trick or treat. People give all of their candies and chocolates when their eyes land on Malleus and someone who dressed just like him. Malleus thinks this action is the same for everyone since he didn’t see anyone cover in fear or try to run away from him. He only wishes that people gave them ice cream instead of candy.

176 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Note

Might I suggest “I don’t want to be alone.” with Royaliceit?

okay um. this one really got away from me, as i’m sure you can tell from the word count, so i really hope you like roman angst (w/ a happy ending, bc i’m not a monster)

Title: we are not alone (in the dark with our demons)

Word Count: 5,888

Content Warnings: roman-typical self-worth issues

(fic masterpost)

Roman has never really known what love is.

Oh, he pretends well enough. That’s his job, after all. He is Thomas’ hopes and dreams, his most romantic fantasies, and he performs that role well, spouting off suggestions about grand gestures and acts of true love and deeds of valor and honor and bravery. And it’s not as if he’s lying; based on every story he’s ever read, every Disney movie he’s ever watched, that is the epitome of what romance should be. And he thinks he would like that, would like to execute these grand gestures for someone, would like to sweep someone off their feet, be their savior, their hero.

Someone becomes Patton so gradually that he doesn’t notice for a very long time. Doesn’t notice how his heart beats faster whenever Patton is in the room, doesn’t notice how he hangs off Patton’s every word, doesn’t notice how he would do just about anything to get Patton to smile at him. Or rather, he does notice, sort of, in a vague, curious way. He’s just not sure what it means.

And then comes the wedding. And Roman thinks he understands what love is after all. Because the words of the others have always hurt him, their criticisms and mockery never as easily shaken off as he likes them to think, but this? This is something different. He watches as Patton sides with Deceit, with the side he was told not to believe, was told was in the wrong, was told was bad for Thomas, so you shouldn’t listen to him, Roman! He watches as Patton sides with Deceit, as Thomas sides with Deceit, upending everything he thought he believed, and the betrayal hits him like a knife to his chest. And he knows that it wouldn’t sting nearly so much if he didn’t trust Patton, if he wasn’t willing to follow him anywhere, if he didn’t love him, and the realization is far more bitter than sweet.

So, love is this: heartbreak, the stifling silences between breaths, and the words, we love you, said as if he is supposed to accept them.

He doesn’t. And why should he? He works so hard, tries his best every hour of every day, and this is what it gets him? A blow to the back of his head, faded and empty promises, a snake whispering in the dark, and Thomas turning away from him. You are! rings in his head, stuttered, placating, a lie.

And perhaps Thomas is right. Perhaps they are all right. And if Deceit is right, then he must be wrong. Isn’t that how it goes? Someone has to be the villain, after all. What else is he, if not a washed-up prince, a hero that has never managed to save anyone, a Creativity that is not nearly as good as he portrays himself to be?

God. No wonder they don’t love him.

So he throws himself into being better, into being more. He swallows his pride and apologizes to Deceit— to Janus, he supposes, though something about using the name still leaves an acrid taste in the back of his throat— and if the apology is a bit halfhearted, not entirely meant, Deceit doesn’t call him out on it, and he doesn’t call out Deceit’s apology in turn (and he has no idea, none at all, whether he means it sincerely or not. He can never tell, anymore, whether the words out of Deceit’s mouth are lies or truths, and sometimes, he thinks it doesn’t matter either way).

He asks Logan for input more often. He tries harder not to antagonize Virgil, or at least, not in the ways that truly bother him. He smiles at Patton when Patton approaches him, smiles and insists that he’s fine, even though he feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest and dropped into oncoming traffic.

And Patton believes him. That is, perhaps, what hurts worst of all, that he doesn’t see the way he’s falling apart beneath the thin veneer of bravado.

But he can’t blame him for that. Roman is, if nothing else, a good actor. A good liar.

He spends more time working, coming up with ideas that are bigger and better than any of his previous ones. He presents them to Thomas, and acts like his entire being isn’t screaming for some form of validation, any scrap of affection, any crumb that might tell him that Thomas doesn’t think he’s too much of a failure after all. And sometimes, he gets that. Sometimes, the ideas are good. Sometimes, Thomas grins and thanks him and congratulates him on a job well done.

More often, the ideas aren’t good enough. More often, it’s back to the drawing board. He barely sleeps these days, can barely be bothered to try.

And he thinks about love a lot. Thinks in the privacy and secrecy of his own mind that maybe, love isn’t worth it, if it hurts this much. Thinks that he wishes that these feelings would go away, and then maybe, he could begin to claw his way back toward normalcy.

But he’s too aware of it, now. Too aware of the way that Patton smiles and moves, too aware of his kindness and his concern and the way he always tries to take such good care of everyone. The betrayal still sits heavy in his chest, but it’s like an old wound, now, one that still pains him but one that he can ignore most days, because in the end, he’s not sure that Patton was wrong at all in what he did, in choosing Deceit over him. He thinks that maybe he was wrong, that he still is, and he’s doing his best to change that, but he has never known how to be anything different from what he is. He has only known how to cover it all up, how to wrap himself in glittering paper and a shiny bow and hope that no one looks too closely at what lies underneath.

Perhaps he’s getting too lost in his own head. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t see it coming.

It’s the only explanation he can think of. He should have noticed it, otherwise, should have seen the way that Patton and Deceit inch together, like two stars sliding into each other’s orbits. He should have seen the cautious glances, charged with so much more emotion than words could say, should have seen the tentative touches, should have seen the way they angle themselves toward each other whenever they’re in the same room. He should have seen it, should have guessed it, but he didn’t, so when Patton announces one night, over dinner, that he and Janus have decided to begin a relationship, he is taken completely by surprise.

Logan extends congratulations. Virgil’s blessing is far more cautious, still very wary of Deceit’s increased presence in their lives, but he appears glad for Patton, at least. And Roman offers the loudest, most boisterous well-wishes he can think of, professing his joy for Patton’s newfound happiness, putting forth anything and everything he can think of to direct attention away from the fact that on the inside, he just feels—

Numb.

Numb. Cold. Empty.

He knew he couldn’t have him. He knew that Patton could never return his affections. But apparently, there is a great deal of difference between knowing and knowing, and that difference is sobbed into his pillow in the early hours of the morning.

He falls into an uneasy sleep, and his dreams are of Patton, Patton smiling, Patton laughing, Patton telling him that he did good, Patton kissing him and tasting of citrus and cotton candy. And then, the dreams change, and Janus is there, too, sliding around the edges, smooth and confident and beautiful, his every motion poetry, his every glance a caress, and Roman takes his face in his hands and kisses him just as soundly as he did Patton, and then, he wakes up, shaking.

This cannot be right. This cannot be right, because these are all the emotions he pushed deep, deep down inside of him, never to see the light of day again. These are the emotions that he rejected after the theater, after the courtroom, after everyone told him time and time again that Deceit was wrong, that Deceit was bad, and if he wanted to be right, wanted to be good, he needed to treat Deceit like the villain he was. And so he did, and pretended that he has never wondered what Deceit’s lips would feel like on his, what it would be like to trace his fingers down those glimmering scales.

It seems that the time for pretending is over.

Once ended, an illusion cannot be reformed. The audience knows the trick now, would see right through any further conjuration. And Roman, too, can no longer fool himself into believing that what he feels does not exist, or that it will go away if he ignores it. He watches Patton, and he watches Janus, and he watches them together, cooking in the kitchen or cuddling on the sofa or simply sitting near each other and enjoying the company, and he burns for them, bright and hot and never-ending, fueled by the sheer force of his want. Roman is passion and Roman is desire, and he desires them, desires their attention and their affection and their love, and it’s like an arrow to his heart to know that he cannot have them, cannot have this.

Because they already have each other. And even if he were worthy of them in the first place, there is no space for him between them.

So, he does the hardest thing he has ever done in his life, and he pulls away.

He tries not to be obvious about it, tries not to do anything that might arouse suspicion or concern. He works longer, harder, makes excuses to miss meals and family gatherings. Loneliness settles into him like a physical weight, one that presses against his chest and makes it hard to breathe. Sometimes, he feels as though he stands on the edge of a precipice, a yawning chasm below, and all he has to do to fall is take one step forward. Sometimes, he feels as though he’s already falling, the wind whistling in his ears, gravity dragging him ever downward.

They give him looks, sometimes. Patton more often than Janus, though that might just be because Janus is more subtle. He can never interpret these looks. They’re always contemplative, perhaps a bit confused, perhaps a bit sad, and he doesn’t know what that means. Part of him fears that they’ve figured it out, figured him out, him and his hopeless, stupid love. Part of him wants them to, wants them to see right past him to all his dirty secrets, wants them to rip the bandage off, to let him down gently, to tell him what he already knows.

Part of him wants to fall.

The loneliness becomes tangible, surrounding him like a fog. He’s surprised no one else can see it. But then, that is the point, isn’t it?

He’s chosen this.

And it all hits him one evening, as the sun has just begun to set and he’s skipped yet another dinner, claiming to be off on a quest in the Imagination. He hasn’t been on a quest for a while, hasn’t been able to muster up the energy, or the persona. Quests are for princes, for heroes, and these days, he’s not so sure that he’s either of those. He certainly doesn’t feel like one. He plans to work instead, to churn out a few more video ideas for Thomas in the hopes that one is usable.

He finds himself curling up in a ball in the corner of his room, tears stinging in his eyes.

There’s no particular reason for it. Nothing about today has been any worse than any other recent days. This feels like something that has building for a while, like a rubber band stretched until it snaps. And he feels like he’s snapped, like something essential in him has broken, and he knows that he should be able to move past this, should get back up and get back to work, but he can’t, and that fact just sends him spiraling more, because if he can’t create anything and he can’t love properly, then what good is he?

He shudders, choking on a sob and sucking in a desperate breath. He stuffs his fist in his mouth, trying to muffle the cries that seek to escape him, as if from a wounded animal, and perhaps that’s exactly what he is. A wounded animal, begging for comfort, for solace, and finding nothing at all.

He wants someone here. Just, someone. Anyone. Someone to hold him and tell him that everything will be alright, even if it’s a lie. Someone to dry his tears, to grasp his hands, to touch him. He wants it and he can’t have it, and he feels so, so alone.

Even if he deserved reassurance, he wouldn’t seek it. He’s supposed to be strong, supposed to be a prince, for heaven’s sake, and even if he knows just how weak he truly is, the others don’t.

He can’t let anyone see him like this.

And that is when the knock sounds on his door, as if summoned by his thoughts. Four times, a light, quick beat. He freezes, alarm coursing through him.

“Hey, Roman?” It’s Patton. It’s Patton, and he sounds worried, and Roman hates himself for becoming a source of stress. “I, uh, I brought you dinner. I know you said you’d grab something later, but you haven’t been down for a meal with everyone in a while, so, uh. I’m getting a little bit worried about you. Could I come in?”

He takes a steadying breath. He needs to respond, because if he doesn’t, Patton will likely enter anyway, just to check on him. So he needs to reply, and hope for the life of him that whatever he says is good enough to persuade him to leave, to persuade him that all is well.

“Just leave it outside the door,” he calls out. His voice sounds thick and clumsy even to his own ears. It’s because of the tears, but perhaps he can claim he just woke up from a nap, if Patton asks. “I’ll grab it in a bit.” And then, he winces, because that sounds rude, sounds callous, sounds like he doesn’t care that Patton has made the effort to come up here and bring him food. It’s quite the opposite; he cares far too much. So he tacks on, “Thanks, Pat,” hoping that at least some of his gratitude will come across.

Instead, his voice breaks, and his breath hitches as he forcibly suppresses another sob.

For a long moment, Patton is silent.

“Are you… okay?” he asks. “I’m coming in, Roman.”

No.

“Please don’t,” he says, and realizes even as he does that his voice is too frantic, too desperate, and it won’t fool Patton for even a second. “I’m fine.”

The doorknob turns, and the door slowly swings open. Not all the way, just enough for Patton to poke his head through, his brows furrowed in concern. There is a plate in his hands, and the room fills with the scent of cooked pasta. Spaghetti, he thinks. One of his favorites.

“You don’t sound fine,” Patton says, and then his gaze finally lands on Roman, and Roman would like to melt into the floor in shame. He knows what he must look like, knows he must seem an utter disaster, with his rumpled clothes and tear-stained face, curled up in the corner like the pathetic mess of a side he is.

“Oh,” Patton says, eyes widening. He seems shocked for a moment, but then, he is moving, entering the room all the way and rushing to Roman’s side, setting the plate down on his desk before kneeling next to him, hands outstretched but not touching, not quite, as if he’s unsure of his welcome. “Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong? What can I do?”

He shakes his head, staring at him, because how is he supposed to tell Patton the truth? How is he supposed to tell him that he aches for him, him and Janus both, longs to disrupt the happiness they’ve found in each other? How is he supposed to tell him that he’s pulled away to try to get over himself, to prevent himself from doing something rash, to attempt to make the problem disappear, and instead has only succeeded in making himself feel worse? How is he supposed to admit any of this?

How is he supposed to admit that he’s a failure?

“It’s just…” he starts. “It’s too much, right now. I’ll, I’ll be okay, I just need…” He cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands, because he knows exactly what he needs, and he can’t let himself say it out loud, but if he voices anything else, it would be a lie, and he’s already lying to Patton so much, and he’s so tired.

“What do you need, honey?” Patton asks, but he just curls in on himself more.

New strategy: maybe if he doesn’t answer at all, Patton will get fed up and leave. It’s unlikely, because that’s just not the kind of person that Patton is. But it’s the only viable plan he has left.

Patton doesn’t leave.

“That’s okay, Roman. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna.” Patton hesitates, and Roman is tempted to look at him, to take the measure of whatever expression is on his face. “Would it be alright if I touched you?”

And he does look then, looks and finds that the only emotion on Patton’s face is concern, a desire to help, so he nods, and Patton reaches out to him, gathering him into his arms, and Roman can’t remember the last time he was touched like this. He feels so safe, so warm, and so terribly, horribly guilty, because he can’t feel like he’s taking advantage of him, because Patton has no idea about the feelings that flutter in his chest, traitorous and excited by something so simple as mere contact, and his mind is so eager to twist this situation around, to make more out of it than it is.

Patton cares about him. He feels more secure about that than he used to. But it is the same kind of care that Patton offers to everyone, and he feels so selfish and awful for desiring more than that, and for not having the courage to even own up to doing so.

But he still relaxes into the embrace, lets Patton rub soothing circles into his back, even though it makes him sob harder, this moment that is so close to what he wants and yet so far.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Patton murmurs, “I promise. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

He shakes his head mutely. It’s all he can do.

Nothing is going to be okay. But he doesn’t have the words to explain that.

But maybe, if he can live in this moment for just a little while longer, he will regain the strength to pretend.

“Patton?” The voice floats in from outside his room, and he stiffens. “You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything— oh.”

Roman shifts his head, and his vision is blurry, but he can just make out the figure standing in his doorway, awkward and discomfited, his hands twitching as if he doesn’t know where to place them. It’s Janus, because of course it is Janus, come looking for his boyfriend, and here Roman is, taking up both of their time, now, and there is a part of him that selfishly delights in it, that insists that if this is all he will ever get from them, he might as well make the most of it.

“I can—” Janus shuffles his feet, oddly hesitant. “Here, I’ll just—”

He moves as to leave, and close the door behind him, and suddenly, that is the last thing Roman wants. It is too late to pretend that this never happened, too late to prevent him from seeing his humiliation in the first place. At this point, what is a little more selfishness?

“You can stay,” he murmurs, and he’s sure he doesn’t sound at all convincing, but Janus pauses anyway, a crease forming between his brows. When he enters the room, he does so cautiously, as if expecting Roman to change his mind at any moment, but he does enter, and that is what is most important. He kneels beside Patton, and Roman is certain that they exchange a glance over his head, some silent communication, before Janus tentatively reaches out and places a hand on Roman’s arm. It is clear that he is not practiced in offering comfort, but the fact that he is willing to try at all is enough to add to the tears still streaming down his face.

“Would you like to tell us what’s wrong?” Janus asks, and even when Roman doesn’t answer with anything more than hitching breaths and shallow sobs, turning his face back into Patton’s shirt because he can’t face this kindness, Janus doesn’t push him for more. Just sits there and offers silent support and a single source of contact.

It’s too much, really, having the both of them here, having Patton hugging him and Janus touching him, both of them offering care but not the kind of care that Roman wants most. And it’s so wrong of him to fool them into giving this to him, because this means so much more to him than it does to them and they have no idea. He’s essentially tricking them, tricking them in the worst kind of way, and the longer he sits there, crying against Patton’s chest, the worse he feels about it.

And eventually, his tears run dry. And he knows he has to end this.

“I’m okay now,” he mumbles, turning his head so that he’s no longer speaking into Patton’s shirt. “You guys can go.”

Janus arches a brow, and belatedly, Roman remembers that lying to the Lord of the Lies is an inadvisable move at best.

“Is that right?” Janus asks, doubt dripping from every syllable. He’s not aiming to wound, but Roman flinches anyway. “You’ve spent the past twenty minutes sobbing your heart out, and there’s absolutely no underlying reason that needs to be dealt with? Everything’s all hunky-dory?”

He wriggles out of Patton’s hold with no small amount of regret, shifting backward until there is a few feet of space between him and both of them. He tries to fix his expression into some semblance of a glare, though he’s certain it’s not very effective. He must look like a train wreck.

“All hunky-dory,” he confirms, and has to pause, because literally who says that anymore? He shouldn’t find that endearing. He shouldn’t. “I was just… overwhelmed. That’s all.”

It’s not technically a lie, so Janus shouldn’t be able to sense anything off. But he narrows his eyes in suspicion, reminding Roman that he’s still perfectly capable of detecting half-truths the normal way, though plain observation.

“You have been putting an awful lot of pressure on yourself lately,” Patton says, and Roman turns to him in surprise. Patton winces, wringing his hands. “I mean… I don’t wanna overstep any boundaries here, but it seems to me that we barely see you anymore, ‘cause you’re always holed up in here working. And I’m not saying that you need to stop or anything like that, especially not if you’re feeling a lot of inspiration these days, but, um. We miss you.” He pauses. “I miss you.” He says the last in an undertone, glancing at his lap, and Roman blinks.

“I didn’t…” He stops, trying to get his thoughts in order, but it’s a hopeless task. His thoughts are flying every which way, no rhyme or reason to them. “That is, I didn’t mean to—”

“If you’re going to finish that sentence with something along the lines of, I didn’t mean to avoid you, you needn’t bother,” Janus interrupts. His voice is smooth and unreadable, and something about it makes Roman want to crawl under a rock and hide there. “It’s fairly obvious to me that that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.” Patton frowns then, looking at Janus and opening his mouth to say something, but Janus holds up a hand, forestalling him. “What I don’t understand is why? Or at least, why Patton? Me, I get.”

It takes a moment for him to realize what Janus is saying, his mind taking far too long to wrangle his words into something approaching sense. “Wait, what?” he blurts out. “Why would you… why would you ‘get it’ if I was avoiding you?”

This is, perhaps, not the most urgent question he needs to ask. But he’s confused, now, confused and beginning to realize that once again, his actions may have had unintended consequences.

Janus looks at him like he’s crazy. “Roman, I am not unaware that you dislike me. And that’s… perfectly fine. After everything I’ve put you through, I… well, as I said, I understand.” He pauses, inhaling deeply, seeming to steady himself. “Again, I’m not asking for me. And I would appreciate an answer.”

Roman can only stare, his horror mounting as he realizes that Janus means every word of what he’s saying, that Janus truly believes that Roman doesn’t like him, and oh god, he’s gone and fucked all of this up, hasn’t he? He didn’t think they would notice him stepping back, much less draw the wrong conclusions, but apparently they have, and he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. He can lean into this, pretend to be angry with them, pretend not to want them around, no matter how much that would break him. Or he can tell them the truth, and be broken in an entirely different way when they reject him, kindly at best and in disgust at worst. There’s no good option, and it’s all he can do to keep his breathing even, to keep his lungs functioning.

But he looks at Janus, his face set into hard lines. And he looks at Patton, who doesn’t meet his eyes, whose dejection is shining through every inch of his slumped posture and in the way he fiddles with his fingers, anxious and discontent.

He didn’t think this would hurt them. Frankly, he thought they were too wrapped up in each other to notice much of what he was doing at all. But evidently, he has miscalculated, badly, and there is no good option, but he knows which one will hurt them less.

He’s been selfish enough.

He releases a shuddering breath, shaking his head and staring at the floor. He doesn’t have it in him to look at them, to watch their reactions to what he’s about to say. “I’m really sorry,” he says, and his voice emerges as a miserable whisper. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to make you think that—” He cuts off. Gathers his thoughts into a coherent sentence. By the nine muses, this is difficult. “I don’t… I don’t dislike you. Either of you. Um, it’s the opposite. I, uh, like you a lot. Both of you. Too much.” He curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach, as if to hide, though he knows that there is no hiding from this, no going back. “I just, you two were so happy, and I didn’t want to, to get in the way, or ruin something, but I guess I failed at that too, huh? I… god, I’m so sorry.”

He stops talking. There’s nothing more he can say. It’s out in the open, now. No take-backs.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting. But it’s not for Patton to lunge forward, to grab him by the shoulders and jerk him upright, to force eye contact, sudden and startled.

“You could never,” Patton insists, and to Roman’s dismay, his voice is choked with tears. “Do you hear me? You could never, ever ruin anything.” He sniffles, then, losing some of his intensity, and leans forward, pressing his forehead against Roman’s. “I thought that I’d messed up,” he says. “I thought that it was still too much, after the wedding and everything that happened, and that you still wanted space, or time, and I felt so guilty because I didn’t want to let you have that, but I thought that if it was what you wanted, then I shouldn’t—” He sighs, cutting himself off and closing his eyes. A tear slips out from between his eyelids.

Roman, for his part, barely dares to breathe. Patton is so close.

“You,” he says, a stuttering start, because he doesn’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t know what Patton is saying, “you, what do you—”

“I like you a lot, too,” Patton says, and Roman can see the way his eyes shine and swirl, his irises a smeared mixture of Thomas’ brown and his own signature blue. “I have for… gosh, a really long time now. I guess I never thought there was a good time for me to do something about it, and then with the… everything, I thought for sure that you didn’t… I’m so sorry, Roman. You’ve been hurting all this time and I didn’t… I couldn’t…” He trails off into a sniffle, and as much as Roman would like to comfort him, he is frozen, working through the words that echo in his ears and in his brain.

Because he can’t have said what he thinks he’s just said, right? Because that would mean—

Unable to help himself, he looks over to Janus, expecting to see anger or dismay or something of the like, because if Roman is hearing this correctly, if Roman is interpreting this correctly, then Patton… Patton has just confessed to having feelings for him. And that in itself is difficult to process, impossible to accept, but surely Janus can’t approve of this, can’t allow this to happen, can’t let Roman get between him and his boyfriend—

Janus is staring, his eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them, and his expression is open and unguarded but there is no anger there, no fear, and when he catches Roman looking, it softens, suddenly, inexorably, and Roman can’t hope to understand it because he must be seeing wrong, because it looks an awful lot like—

Well. It looks an awful lot like the way he looks at Patton.

“You’ve always captivated me,” Janus says, simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I… I know that I’ve flattered you in the past, but I, ah. I might have meant more of it than I wanted to let on.” He glances away, as if embarrassed, and Roman feels as though he’s floating. “I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t acquitted myself well, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

“We’ve talked about this, a little bit,” Patton says softly, and Roman drags his attention back to him, little though he wants to look away from Janus, from this confession that he can scarcely bring himself to believe. “You, that is. We both love you a whole lot, Roman. We didn’t think you’d be interested, so we didn’t bring it up before. But we’d be really, really happy if you’d join us, honey.”

He shudders, tearing himself away from Patton and immediately feeling the loss, the cold air against his forehead. He doesn’t know what to do, or what do say, and most of him can’t absorb the fact that this is happening, that this is real, that after so long being on his own, they’re both here, they know that he loves them, and they want him in return.

He should be ecstatic. Over the moon. Jumping for joy. But he has never once allowed himself to believe that he might have this, has never so much as entertained the possibility, so now, presented with everything he has longed for, he feels so terribly overwhelmed.

“It’s up to you,” Patton says softly. He reaches out, and when Roman doesn’t move to stop him, he takes his hand, and Roman could cry, he really could. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, whatever you want, we can do.”

He shakes his head desperately, a multitude of words springing to his lips but all of them falling short of being spoken, because he doesn’t know how to explain this, how to explain that it’s too much, being asked this, being asked what he wants, because he wants anything and everything, but he has spent so long telling himself that he can’t that he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s being told that he can.

And some of that must show on his face, because Patton scoots closer, concern driving a furrow in his brow, but then, suddenly, Janus is there, a steady presence at his side, one hand gently resting on his shoulder.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready for that,” he says, and Roman has never heard Janus speak so tenderly. Not like this, not to him. “It’s alright if you’re not ready for anything at all. But if you’d like, you could try starting with what you don’t want.”

At first, he’s not sure what Janus means, not sure how that will help. But then, his perspective flips, and he finds it easier, somehow, to focus on that, rather than the alternative. He wants so much, and he is too used to denying himself, but at this point, he knows very well what he doesn’t want.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he gasps out, and it’s practically a sob, weak and shattered. “Please, don’t leave me alone.”

Patton shifts closer once again, wrapping his arms around him for a second time. And Janus is here, too, pressing up against his side.

“Never,” Patton swears. “You never have to be alone, not ever again.”

“And that’s the whole truth and nothing but,” Janus adds, a bit wry but somehow still infinitely soft.

And they stay. With him. Just because he asked. And slowly, their proclamations sink in, the idea that perhaps they really do love him return, and goodness, he’s been so foolish, hasn’t he? Pushing them away because he thought it best, because he was so sure they wouldn’t want him, when really, it was the opposite. He hovers somewhere between laughing and breaking down into tears once again, but ends up doing neither, relaxing into the warmth of Patton’s arms holding him, of Janus right by his side.

Perhaps he was wrong, before. Perhaps even now, he has never truly understood what love is. He has spent the last weeks and months defining it by heartbreak, but perhaps it was never about that at all.

So, perhaps love is this: acceptance, the rhythm of three hearts beating as one, and the words, we’re not leaving, said aloud and finally, finally, Roman thinks he can accept them.

General Taglist:@just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157

#royaliceit #roman sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #my fic #long post #cat does prompts #these prompts are supposed to be like... 2k words #idk what happened here #my pathological inability to be succinct strikes again

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

The Gift

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Tony says no pets in the Tower, but since when has Loki ever listened to him? Warnings: like one curse word A/N: Any Tom Hiddleston stans out there should get the Easter egg in this one :)

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

“Oh, come on, Tony! Please,” you whined for the fifth time that week. “Not even just a little one?”

“Absolutely not. It’d make a mess of the place. Not to mention that this isn’t exactly the safest place for a pet.”

“So it gets into a lab accident and we have a super dog. Not the worst thing ever,” you said, half joking, though Tony actually seemed kind of intrigued now. You changed your tactic before he got any ideas. “Besides, it won’t make a mess. I’ll train it. And not all dogs shed.”

“I guess, but someone might be allergic,” Tony countered, thinking he delivered a winning argument.

“We can get a hypoallergenic dog,” you shot back, though you’d already checked with almost everyone and no one said they were.

Tony grumbled, running out of excuses to give as to why you couldn’t get the pet you’ve been pleading for the past few months. Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to you during your time in the Tower, and you’d been pretty sure you could use that to your advantage. Sadly, though, nothing had been working. In fact, that relationship had been more of a detriment to you than anything else as you didn’t want to make him upset with you. Otherwise, you might just go out and buy the pet of your choosing. Maybe even more than one. Although, to be fair, it was Tony’s building, and he was allowing you to live here rent free, so you should probably just drop it. But you really wanted a pet, and you knew you weren’t the only one.

“Sorry, but still no.”

“Fine,” you relented with an overdramatic sigh. “For now, anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said, going back to whatever he was tinkering with before you came in.

You pouted in the lab for a bit, hoping he might change his mind, but to no avail. Eventually you slinked out and went into one of the common rooms, plopping on the couch between Peter and Bucky.

“So, how’d it go?” Peter asked after popping a handful of Skittles into his mouth.

“No luck," you responded sourly, stealing some of the colorful candy from him. “None of my strategies are working.”

“What if we tried for something smaller?” Bucky offered. “Like a gerbil.”

“I guess,” you grumbled as you flopped back in exasperation. “But we’ve had our eye on that Cocker Spaniel for a while. A gerbil just wouldn’t be the same.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You all sat in silence for a bit and watched as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck argued about what hunting season it is, mulling over the situation. Admitting defeat seemed to be the most likely option at the moment, but you hated to just give up when you were sure there was a way to get what you wanted and not have Tony be upset with you.

“I’ve got it!” Peter suddenly shouted, bubbling with excitement. “We go and adopt it and then tell Mr. Stark that it just followed us home!”

“Except he wouldn’t let us keep it even then,” you stated, having already thought of that yourself.

“So we hide it. Simple,” Bucky chimed in. “By the time he notices, Peter will be so emotionally bonded to it, Tony wouldn’t dare take it away.”

“Great idea, Mr. Bucky,” Peter said, high-fiving him.

“Yeah, if only there weren’t cameras everywhere. Not to mention a home system that tells him everything,” you added, growing more upset at the lack of options by the minute.

You pushed up from the couch as the episode’s end was heralded by Porky Pig’s “Th-th-that’s all folks.” After waving bye to your friends, you headed to your room to brainstorm in silence. The figure lurking in the shadows didn’t even register in your mind, so you had no idea that a certain god heard your whole conversation. Not only that, he was about to fix all your problems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Loki, where are we going?” Peter inquired as he and Bucky were led into the city by the trickster god.

“All will be revealed, spiderling. I assure you.”

Bucky just shrugged when Peter looked at him, and so they continued following Loki through the busy New York streets. After hearing about your plight, he had hatched a plan to get you what you wanted. All it took was a bit of research on that infernal computer device, and he was pretty sure he’d found the right shelter. It was a far walk from the Tower, and since neither he nor his travel companions could drive, he resorted to taking the subway, an experience he’d rather not have again. Finally, they arrived at the destination, and Peter was about to burst with excitement.

“Mr. Loki!” he gasped. “This is exactly where we were looking for dogs!”

“But I have a feeling you knew that already,” Bucky said.

“Indeed,” Loki replied. “I must confess that I overheard your conversation in the common room yesterday.”

“Oh I get it now. You’re doing this for-”

“No time for speculation, we are here to get me a pet,” Loki interrupted, “Go on. After you, spiderling.”

Peter, still blissfully unaware of Loki’s true intentions, led the way into the shelter. They were greeted with the sound of happy barking and the distinct smell of dog treats. Loki had to admit, he wasn’t the biggest fan of animals. He found some to be more agreeable than others, such as a good steed, but overall he thought them to be more of a nuisance than anything else. Thor had bought a cat for Jane once, and it tore up half of his capes before he presented it to her. Loki was glad his brother kept it away from him and his belongings. Not to mention he didn’t appreciate the sheer number of similarities people said he had with felines. Dogs, however, he was fine with, so long as they were trained properly.

“Hello, how may I help...” the girl behind the front desk trailed off, her eyes going wide with excitement upon realizing who the trio was. “Y-you’re... Oh my gosh. My friends are never going to believe this! But, uh, how may I help you?”

None of the heroes were particularly comfortable with the attention and star struck gaze of the girl, so it took them a minute to get over their sheepishness. Loki looked at both his companions before realizing he would have to do the talking. He sighed but knew the look on your face would be worth it. You’d look at him the same way you had so many times before, whenever he did little things for you, whether it be rubbing your shoulders after a stressful day or brewing you a cup of tea on a chilly morning. The two of you weren’t dating, exactly, but you weren’t exactly not dating, either. Loki found himself incapable of asking you to make it official, lest it ruin what you currently had. He didn’t know what he’d do if you no longer casually held his hand or rested your head on his lap while reading in the evenings. Even though he was fairly certain you felt the same way, that last bit of doubt wouldn’t leave him alone. Besides, despite usually being quite a great thinker, he couldn’t come up with a good way to confess. He supposed that kissing you would do the trick, but he wasn’t brave enough for that, so getting you a dog would have to suffice for now.

“My friends here were looking at some of your dogs recently, and there is one that they are quite smitten with. We are here to adopt it.”

“That’s right! A Cocker Spaniel named Bobby,” Peter offered. “He hasn’t already been adopted, has he?”

“Nope!” the girl responded in a perky voice. “He’s all yours as soon as you fill out the proper paperwork.”

“Mr. Loki, are you sure about this. Mr. Stark told me I couldn’t get a dog.”

“Exactly. He told you, not me,” Loki replied, picking up a pen.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t really think he meant it just for me. I think it was more of a general kind of thing.” Loki and Bucky looked at him in exasperation for a second, wondering how he could still be so innocent, before he caught on. “Oh, ok. I get it now. Carry on.”

The three boys huddled around the page as Loki filled it out, providing Tony’s credit card as payment when the time came. It seemed appropriate, Loki thought, that Stark should have to pay for making you upset, and taking that in the most literal sense was the only somewhat acceptable way, it seemed. No longer could The God of Mischief go around stabbing those who hurt the ones he cared about. In a way, he missed the good old days, as he referred to them, but his new life led him to you, which made the rest of it fine with him, he decided, as he finished his signature with a flourish.

“There,” he declared, admiring the loop of his fancy, cursive L. “Finished.”

The girl disappeared into the back, only to return with Bobby a moment later. After giving the paperwork a quick once over, she handed the leash over to Bucky, who couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. Peter immediately bent down to scratch the dark brown dog behind his ears.

“Who’s a good boy? You are! You’re a good boy!” he cooed.

“Spiderling, he hasn’t even done anything yet,” Loki said, somewhat perplexed, as Bobby rolled over onto his back, stopping at the god’s feet. “Though, I do suppose he is a rather good boy,” he added, an inexplicable smile tugging at his lips.

One stop at the pet store and a taxi ride later, both unknowingly paid for by Tony, they arrived back at the Tower with the newest member of their family. It wasn’t even ten minutes later that Tony strolled into the room where they were playing with Bobby. He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the dog, happily playing tug of war with Bucky.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing at the Cocker Spaniel.

“A dog,” Loki deadpanned.

“Yeah, no shit. I mean what is it doing here?”

“I adopted it. Really Stark, for a supposed genius you ask a lot of obvious questions.”

“Don’t get snippy with me, Rock of Ages,” Tony quipped back, gritting his teeth a little. “This is my Tower and I say no pets, except for maybe a goldfish.”

“Yes, this is your Tower, but it is our home, is it not? As thus, we should be allowed the simple pleasures of life, such as having a pet. After all, studies show that having a dog can reduce stress, something I’d say is rather important for people in our position.”

Tony glared for a minute, not really having a good response to that. Then he called your name, certain you were behind this.

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “They had nothing to do with this. Don’t blame them.”

“That’s right,” Bucky also defended you. “It was all us.”

It was already too late, though, and you appeared in the doorway. Loki had been planning on presenting your gift to you in some cute or clever way, but all he had time to do was a magic up a bow on the pup’s head, a green one, of course. Bobby started happily yapping at your arrival and trotted over to you, looking for a scratch behind the ear.

“Oh. My. Gosh. He’s adorable!” you exclaimed as he rolled over for belly rubs. “You finally got a dog for me, Tony? Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Sorry, but I can’t take credit for this,” he said, turning down the hug you were offering him by putting a hand up. Then he pointed at the mischievous trio whose doing it was.

“Well actually, it was mainly Loki,” Bucky said, nudging the god in the ribs.

“But Mr. Bucky, we all- Oh wait. Awwww,” Peter gushed as he realized what Loki was feeling.

“Oh. In that case, thank you Loki!” you shouted, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Without a second’s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, too, returning the embrace. “You are quite welcome, my darling.”

You nuzzled into the spot where his shoulder met his neck. In turn, he put his head on your own and breathed in your scent, forgetting the others in the room for a minute. It seemed you had, too, because you looked equally startled when Tony cleared his throat.

“Ok, fine. He can stay,” Tony conceded, “but only if he doesn’t wreck the place. And keep him out of the lab.”

You all chorused your thanks and, despite his harsh tone, could tell that Tony had already taken to Bobby, who was now the center of attention again. After playing with him for a bit, Bucky made some excuse about having to leave and took Peter with him, both of them wanting to give you some alone time with Loki.

“This really is very sweet, Loki,” you told him after a few minutes.

“Think nothing of it. It is my gift to you.”

“I feel bad, though. I don’t have anything for you,” you said, biting your lip. “Well, actually, I do have one thing that I can give you.”

“Oh? What would that be, my darling?”

The end of his sentence was nearly cut off by your lips crashing into his. The kiss was a little sloppy, but filled with so much love and desire that neither one of you cared. After gathering his wits, Loki kissed you back, cupping your cheeks as you grabbed his shoulders, still a little unsteady from surging forward.

“That,” you breathlessly whispered, pulling away as Bobby began barking again.

Later that night, Tony found you and Loki passed out on the couch, Bobby sprawled out across both your laps.

“Huh,” he mumbled, draping a blanket over your shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing they got that dog, after all.”

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twinkiefairy · 3 years

Text

Who wants to read a snipped of my Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Lost fic? The actual thing isn’t ready to share yet but this part was really fun for me to write so! Enjoy.

CW: food mention

Spoilers: Not really, but this is set around Season 1, Episode 18-19ish if you want to be extra careful.

In the fic, you play as 16-year-old Carolina “Lynn” Bonnet, a Lost fan who found herself on the island along with the rest of the survivors. This is just one scene from it!

Find it below:

“Do you know what day it is?” The voice sounds angry, urgent.

“Huh?” you look up from the book you’re reading to find Cooper, a middle aged man who lives a few tents down from you with his wife, Amy.

“I said, do you know what day it is?” he repeats.

Why does that matter? “Uhm. No, sorry. I haven’t really been keeping track.”

“Exactly!” he yells out, victorious. “You don’t! No one does! So explain to me why my wife is so upset that I didn’t realize it was our anniversary?”

Yikes.

“Fuck October 30th. I’m never doing a fall wedding again,” Cooper mumbles under his breath and stomps off, apparently deciding to rant to someone else.

You snort. Again?

Then his words hit you. Did he say October 30th?

You have to double check this. But how can you? You don’t have a calendar with you, and even if you did, it would be useless if you hadn’t been crossing off the days since the crash. Someone must be keeping track, though. But who?

Looking around, you find your answer.

“Rose!” You call, bounding up to her. She’s kneeling in front of a makeshift water container, scrubbing laundry. “Rose, what day is it?”

“You too?” She asks, sounding peeved. “What’s going on with everybody today? I just had Cooper here asking me the same thing. Don’t tell me you forgot your anniversary, too.”

You laugh. “No, no. But I heard Cooper say it was October 30th. Is that right?”

“By my count it is,” she answers, still doing laundry. “Why?”

“Don’t you know what this means?” You say, getting excited.

Rose looks at you expectantly, eyebrows arched.

“It’s Halloween tomorrow!” You exclaim. Isn’t it obvious? “We have to do something!”

Rose is amused. “You wanna go trick-or-treating?”

“I don’t know,” you say, already coming up with ideas. Obviously there isn't much candy to go around, but… “We could have a costume party!”

“Honey, I’ve washed every single piece of usable clothing in this place,” Rose says, not unkindly. “Twice. I’d know if there were any costumes around.”

“If I find you a costume to wear,” you offer. “Would you come to the party?”

Rose stares you down. “Just don’t dress me up as one of those Sexy Rabbits, you hear me?”

You laugh, and the deal is made.

***************

“And we’ll need food,” Hurley is saying, excited. “And music. I can get Sayid to fix the batteries on my CD player. Maybe even get some speakers. That’d be mad cool.”

It didn’t take much to convince Hurley to help you plan the Halloween party. He took to the idea with enthusiasm as soon as mentioned the words “Halloween party”, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask.

“What should we do for costumes?” You ask. “Rose said there weren’t any on the plane. We’re gonna have to provide them for people if we really want this to be a costume party.”

Hurley thinks about it for a second. “We could do hats,” he suggests, at last. “It’s much easier than trying to figure out shirt sizes for everyone.”

That gives you an idea. ��Crowns! We’ll make it like one of those fancy balls, for royalty and stuff,” you suggest, excited. “Crowns are easy to make out of paper. And we can even make some flower crowns, too, if I can find someone to teach me how. We can make a bunch, then people would pick one for themselves as they come in.”

“I have an old comic book we can use for paper,” Hurley offers, warming up to the idea. “I can get Charlie to help me cut out the shapes and stuff.”

“Perfect,” you say. “You take the paper crowns. Let me take care of the flower crowns. I know exactly who to go to.”

*****************

“Hey, Claire!” You greet her cheerfully. “Whatcha doooooing?”

She chuckles, doing that little side-glance that she does when she’s amused but doesn’t really know what’s going on. “I’m just… Watching the waves, I guess.”

“Great,” you say. “Now listen. I have a very important question for you.”

She frowns quickly, but she’s smiling. “Okay?”

“Have you ever made a flower crown?”

Claire grins. “A flower crown? Sure. My friends and I made them all the time in school.”

You clap excitedly. “That’s perfect! Come with me. I need your help.”

“What’s going on?” She asks, carefully getting up.

“It’s Halloween tomorrow!” You explain. “Hurley and I are planning a costume party for everyone. We’re making crowns for people, so we can pretend it’s a royal ball. It’ll be fun!”

Claire bites her lip, smiling. “I know exactly where we should go.”

*************************

Claire leads you through the forest into a wide clearing. Every inch of the ground is covered in flowers of every color, shape, and size.

“Woah,” you say, breathless. “How did you find this place?”

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Claire smiles. “I found it on one of my longer walks.”

“It’s amazing,” you agree.

She smiles at you. “Come on,” she says, grabbing you by the hand. “I’ll show you how to pick the best flowers for crowns.”

The two of you spend hours among the flowers, calling to each other whenever you pick an especially beautiful one, and weaving their stalks to make wreaths fit for any head. It’s relaxing and peaceful, and the two of you giggle about nothing at all until the sun is about to set.

You make so many crowns between the two of you that you struggle to carry them back to camp without flattening the petals, but you manage— not without a healthy dose of laughter.

*********************

Hurley is excited to see you, and gushes over the flower crowns.

“Dude,” he says. “They look amazing.” Then he starts, as if remembering. “I have something to show you, too.”

He takes you to an area of the beach that has been sectioned off for the day for Hurley’s crafts. On an elevated piece of metal from the plane are rows and rows of colorful paper crowns. Some of them sit a little crooked, but you have to admit that using the comic book was a fantastic idea— the colors are bright and strong, and so varied from page to page that each of the crowns has its own unique personality.

“Hurley,” you say, genuinely. “These are amazing.”

“Pretty cool, huh?” He beams with pride.

*********************

The party is absolutely wonderful. More people show up than you really expected— word must have spread quickly around camp. There’s a great assortment of fruit, courtesy of Kate and Sun. People seem to take to the crown idea eagerly— almost everyone around you is wearing one, including yourself. Claire’s is specially beautiful, one she made herself to make her light eyes pop. Hurley is smiling more than ever, offering people food, helping them pick a crown that fits their personalities, and making conversation with everyone— a perfect host. The music makes the atmosphere feel extra special— thanks to Sayid, who fixed up Hurley’s CD player— and the light from the nearby fire adds a warm glow to the air.

Sawyer refused to join, retreating into his tent and claiming he had a massive headache. But you left a paper crown near the entrance of his tent earlier, and when you walk by sometime later, it’s gone.

People dance. Walt, in particular, has a way of energizing the dance floor in a way that surprises you, for such a relatively quiet kid. Sayid and Shannon are inseparable, especially during the slower songs. Rose, true to her word, waltzes around, a crown atop her head. Charlie knows all the lyrics to all the songs, and mimics playing the guitar or drums as he mouths the words.

Sun and Kate sit to the side, content to just watch, until Claire drags Kate into the makeshift dance floor despite her protests that she does not dance. From a distance, you can see Kate refusing the flower crown Claire offers her, and Claire, unbothered, reaches for a black-and-blue paper crown instead. This time, Kate surrenders, and Claire carefully places the crown on her head.

It’s beautiful, all of it.

#i just cannot stop thinking about a halloween party on the island #such a huge missed opportunity #i just want these people to have one (1) moment of happiness is that too much to ask #i might delete this later tbh #if you have ~thoughts~ youre welcome to share but this is ultimately for me #im just being generous and sharing it lol #being lost #lost choices #idk what im gonna name it actually #abc lost #lost abc #lost fic #lost #lost tv show #lost show

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amanda-glassen · 3 years

Note

Jerena honeymoon? 😏

I know you wanted smut but this is pure fluff and I apologize hahaha. Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I think it's 3000 words. Sorryyyyy.

Serena hated lingerie. She hated the complicated straps and clasps and the way the material felt against her skin. Most importantly, she hated the way she looked in it. She felt it didn’t flatter her the way it did the curvier, well-endowed women in movies and on TV. It made her feel too skinny and like she was lacking, but it was the first night of their honeymoon and Serena wanted to wear something special for her new wife. She put on a pair of cheeky white panties with a lace ruffle trim that she special-ordered with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on the front in baby blue lettering. She touched up her hair and makeup, even if she knew Jamie wouldn’t mind that a few strands of hair were out of place or that her mascara was slightly smudged, but the more she fussed over her makeup, the more she realized she was stalling.

“Babe, are you okay?” She heard Jamie ask from their bed.

“I’m fine,” Serena responded although she was feeling anything but fine. “I’ll be right out.” She’s my wife and she loves me. Everything is going to be okay. This is nothing we haven’t done dozens of times before. But it was their first time as a married couple and Serena felt she had to make everything perfect for Jamie. Or maybe I should just be myself.

It was Halloween night and Serena had packed her pair of Freddy Krueger gloves that she usually wore when she took Olivia trick-or-treating. She opened the bathroom door and stuck her hand out so she could tap on the doorframe with the fake blades on her glove.

“Serena Benson!” Jamie shouted. “You scared the hell out of me. How is it that we’ve only been married 30 hours and I already want a divorce?”

Serena tapped the doorframe one more time before peeking her head out. “I’m sorry, but Serena Benson doesn’t exist anymore. You must be mistaken.”

“Babe, come here,” Jamie urged. “I wanna lie down with my wife.” Lie down. She thinks she’s slick.

Serena stood next to their bed, her hands covering her chest. “I’m ready to...lie down.”

“I’ve never been this over you,” Jamie grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed, eliciting a squeal from Serena. “Babe, take those gloves off.”

“I was going to and then you pulled me on the bed.” Serena took off the gloves and tossed them aside.

When Jamie started to kiss her, Serena felt as if her mind was elsewhere and without realizing it, she had started to pull away. “Do you want to stop?” Jamie asked. “I know it’s our honeymoon, but I’m just as happy holding you or hanging out with you.”

Serena captured her lips in a kiss. “No, no, I want to. I just feel like my mind isn’t here. I’m thinking about Ollie. This is our favorite holiday. She’s twelve and it’s her last kid Halloween, you know? I take her trick-or-treating every year with Elliot and her other friends. I even took her last year before I went over to your house. Next Halloween, she’ll be a teenager, and I feel like I missed my last shot. I’m just glad Mr. and Mrs. Cabot let Alex stay with her in LA. My heart and my mind are both here with you and over there with her. For the past twelve years, I’ve just been a mom and now I’m a mom and a wife and I have to learn how to balance the two.”

“Serena, look at me,” Jamie cupped her face in her hands. “Being my wife doesn’t mean you ever have to take time away from being Ollie’s mom. The three of us are a family. We’re a new family, but we’re going to make it work. Like with any family, there’s going to be a lot of trial and error, but I promise to never make you feel as if you have to choose between me and Ollie. Why don’t we call her right now and see how her Halloween is going?”

Serena immediately grabbed her phone from on top of the nightstand. It rang only one time before she heard her overly excited daughter on the other end. “Hi, Mom! I miss you!”

“Hi, Olliegator. I miss you too. How’s the haul this year?”

“Not as good as Alex’s neighborhood, but Lexie and Kyle helped us salvage the night,” Olivia responded. “Your candy map is a bust, Mom. Half of the houses on there don’t know the spirit of Halloween.”

The candy map in question is a map Serena created of the houses in Beverly Hills that gave out the best candy, had the scariest haunted houses, and the best decorations. “Ollie, I made that map in 1998. It’s not really relevant anymore.”

“See, that’s what I thought at first,” Olivia responded. “But Alex and I were just too taken in by the retro ‘90s charm. So, Mom, tell me about this cabin in the woods. Don’t most people honeymoon in Hawaii or Cabo or the Bahamas?”

“Too ordinary,” Serena responded. She knew Olivia would think it was because she wanted to be out in the woods on Halloween, but the real reason Serena wanted a honeymoon in a cabin away from everyone was because she wanted an entire week of being shut-in with Jamie with nobody else around them. “I’ll give you the grand tour of the cabin and the lake tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I think that would have been ordinary, too,” she could hear her daughter smiling through the phone. “Just remember if you find a creepy cellar, don’t go in. Also, if you meet an old man at a store or gas station that looks abandoned, heed his warnings and listen to his tales of forgotten lore.”

“Of course, Olliegator,” Serena laughed. “Lexie told me she’s taking you and Alex on a Haunted Hollywood tour. Remember, after coming home from those places－”

“When in doubt, sage it out,” Olivia recited the advice she had heard countless times. “We’re gonna leave now. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Ollie Koalie.”

Serena felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders when she hung up the phone. Her Ollie was having fun with her aunt and uncle and Alex. Olivia was going to be okay, just like she was going to be okay.

“Feel better?” Jamie asked. “Is our Ollie okay?”

“She’s okay,” Serena responded. “I think I am, too.”

Serena thought back to their first time last Halloween. It was raw and animalistic, the result of six months of pent-up sexual tension between the two of them. Jamie had her against the wall, on her back, on all fours, and on her knees. But none of that felt right for their first time as a married couple.

Her wife was ready for her as was evident by the bulge in her boxer brief harness that Serena was able to feel between her legs now that Jamie was on top of her. Jamie was playfully nibbling on her neck, putting her at ease. The deeper they got into their relationship, the more loving and even playful sex had become between the two of them. The passion was there, the attraction was there, but Serena felt as if what they did was no longer performative. They could be themselves and focus on each other instead of focusing on an image.

Jamie propped herself up on her elbows, which was one of Serena’s favorite positions for her to be in so she could feel more skin-to-skin contact and nearly the full weight of Jamie’s body on her. She looked down at Serena before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you so much,” she said in a tone that Serena found reassuring. “If you ever want me to stop anything I’m doing, just tell me.” But she didn’t have to tell her. Sometimes she didn’t have the nerve to tell her and Jamie could just see it in her eyes. Her wife could read her better than anyone.

Jamie slowly kissed her way down her body, stopping when she reached her white panties with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on them. “Have I ever told you that my name looks good on you?”

“Several times,” Serena responded. “And it makes me roll my eyes every time you say it.”

Serena’s legs were spread and bent at the knee, giving Jamie access to kiss her on her inner thighs. “I guess I can’t say it anymore because it’s our name now and not just mine. I’m also sorry I didn’t notice these earlier, but when your wife comes out with Freddy Krueger gloves covering her breasts, your eyes just shift to that instead.” Serena felt Jamie tug at the waistband of her undies and slide them off. “As good as they look on you, you don’t need these right now.”

When Jamie flung them to the side, Serena was reminded of an incident that happened a few weeks after their first time. “Do you remember that time you flung my underwear and we couldn’t find it?”

“And my roommate found it the next morning?” Jamie added. “Yeah, how could I forget that?”

“But it was nothing even remotely sexy like I wore the first couple of times,” Serena laughed. “They were my cotton boybriefs with Rainbow Brite and Starlite on them. In my defense, I didn’t know I was getting laid that night. When you said, ‘Serena, come hang out,’ I thought we were actually going to hang out like you hang out with the guys.”

“That explains the hoodie and jeans you wore,” Jamie quipped. “I tried to be good, kind of like I’m trying right now, but my focus is on my favorite freckle of yours.”

Serena remembered the first time Jamie discovered her favorite freckle, one located near her clit that immediately became Jamie’s favorite spot to kiss like she was in that moment. The back and forth and casual banter had eased her nervousness and, although that banter had stopped and she was open and physically vulnerable, her nervousness was still gone and she was able to enjoy every movement of her wife’s tongue.

“I bought you something,” Jamie said, picking her head up and wiping Serena’s wetness from her mouth.

“Later,” Serena insisted, feeling slightly frustrated with her wife.

“Trust me, you’ll want this now.” Her gift was a vibrator that nestled comfortably over Serena’s clit. “Just a little helper because I can’t touch you where I want to when I’m on top.” Jamie used the remote to turn it on one of the lower settings.

Serena pulled Jamie close so she could kiss her, the feeling of the vibrator on her clit and the taste of herself on Jamie’s tongue sending her into overdrive. When Jamie turned up the intensity of the vibrator, she couldn’t help moaning into her wife’s mouth.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Jamie insisted. Serena felt her wife enter her first with one finger before slowly interesting another when she felt Serena had adjusted. She was tight, she knew she was. She always clenched her muscles when Jamie first entered her, but the more she pumped her fingers in and out of her, the more relaxed she became. She could hear how wet she was and she reveled in the feeling of having Jamie inside of her －the first, last, and only woman to be so intimate with her.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Jamie told her as she increased the speed that she was pumping her fingers in and out of her. Serena knew what Jamie wanted. She wanted her cock buried deep inside her. She knew Jamie wanted to fuck her hard and rough; she wanted to claim her.

“Jay,” Serena moaned. She couldn’t get the words out but Jamie knew exactly what she needed.

Serena grabbed the warming lubricant from on top of the nightstand and rubbed it on Jamie’s clit, the feeling of Jamie’s wetness making her throb even more. The warming lubricant had been Serena’s idea the first time they went toy shopping together. It was meant to heighten the sensation for Jamie and make her feel like she was actually inside Serena when the base of the toy rubbed against her clit.

Jamie positioned herself in between Serena’s legs, teasing her entrance as she turned up the intensity of the vibrator enough to make Serena moan even louder. “Jamie, fuck…”

“Is that an order?” Jamie asked and then realized Serena was less than pleased with her question. She entered Serena with just the tip and slowly went deeper, allowing Serena to adjust to being so filled.

“Come here. I want to look into your eyes.”

When she knew Serena was ready, Jamie began to thrust deep and hard into her. She had once wanted soft and sensual but Jamie had awakened that need inside of her. “You look so hot when you’re being fucked, Ser.” She knew the deeper Jamie went, the more she could feel the base press against her clit, so Serena wrapped her legs around her wife’s waist to make her go deeper. “You feel so good.”

With Jamie now propped up on her elbows, Serena ran her fingers down her back. Her caresses were gentle until she felt her wife fuck her harder and faster. Her nails dug into the skin on Jamie’s back and she felt herself tighten around her cock. “Jamie, keep fucking me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She felt the toy rubbing against her g spot, the vibrator pulsating on her clit, and the sound of her wife moaning in her ear. One more thrust as Jamie sucked on her neck proved to be her undoing with Jamie’s orgasm following just a few seconds behind her.

“I love you,” Serena told her as Jamie nuzzled into her neck. “I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before.”

“I’m literally still inside you,” Jamie teased. “We’re very connected right now.”

Serena playfully smacked her arm. “Now it’s my turn to be done with you.”

“You can’t be,” Jamie responded. “You’re stuck with me for the next 50 or 60 years and I couldn’t be happier about that. I love you, Serena Castillo. One thing, though…”

“Hmm?”

“With the way you were clawing at my back, I’m really grateful you took off your Freddy Krueger gloves.”

#jerena #alex and liv: the wonder years

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inkedstarlight · 3 years

Text

Elriel: Halloween Edition

Summary: Azriel and his son go trick-or-treating and stop by Elain's house. They have an adorable encounter. Later that night, Elain goes to Feyre's house for the Halloween party she's throwing and meets her boyfriend, Rhys. Rhysand's brothers also come to the party and Elain runs into Azriel yet again. Let the romance ensue. Basically just a shit ton of fluff. Note: Read it here on AO3!

There was nothing Elain Archeron loved more than giving candy out to little kids on Halloween. Which is why she was currently sitting on her living room couch in her costume, the bowl of candy in her lap as she patiently waited for the first trick-or-treater to come.

It was the first Halloween that she’ll have spent in her new house. She’d recently moved from her studio apartment to a small, two-bedroom house just outside the city. After being promoted from teacher to principal at the elementary school she’d worked at for more than five years, Elain figured a little change was in order.

Unfortunately, the new neighborhood was a bit further from her sisters than her apartment had been. They both lived in the city, Feyre taught painting lessons at the local art store while Nesta worked as a software developer at a start-up tech company. Feyre had also recently moved; her boyfriend of only seven months, Rhysand, asked her to move in with him. Elain hadn't yet met him but from what Feyre had told her, he seemed like he treated her sister really well. But Elain would be the judge of that.

Well, more like Nesta would be the judge of that. Elain was certain that her older sister was going to interrogate the poor man until she's squeezed out his darkest secrets. Nesta had a... unique way with people. Unconventional, but it'd been effective thus far.

Tonight was particularly exciting because the couple was hosting a small Halloween bash at their place. Elain had been bugging Feyre for weeks to properly introduce Rhysand to her and Nesta. Their schedules very rarely matched up.

The doorbell rang, pulling Elain from her thoughts and back to the present. She glanced at the clock. It was four-thirty in the evening. The sun still shone bright in the sky.

She grinned to herself. Let the trick or treating commence.

Jumping up from where she sat, Elain excitedly made her way to the front of the house. She swung the door open. What she saw on her porch melted her damn heart.

A little boy, no older than six, was dressed as a firefighter. He had a tiny hard hat on his head, his chocolate hair curling out from underneath. A dalmatian stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, his other hand clutching a jack-o-lantern bucket for candy. His eyelashes were impossibly long as he looked up at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile. It was contagious.

Elain also noticed that he was alone, no adult in sight.

“Trick or treat!” the boy greeted her.

“Happy Halloween!” Elain replied with a giggle. She put her bowl of candy on the ground to kneel in front of him. She looked around. “Is someone with you?”

“Yeah,” the kid sighed like he just got out of a stressful work meeting. Elain inwardly smiled. “My daddy. But he kept talking and talking about why he thought Mounds was his favorite candy, even though it’s obviously the worst.”

The boy stopped to look at her as if waiting for her to agree. Elain nodded her head vigorously. Naturally.

“He was just talking so much,” the little boy continued. He gestured for Elain to come closer before whisper-shouting, “You know, I really think he needs a girl in his life –”

“TOBIAS!” a strong, male voice called out.

“Uh-oh,” the boy, Tobias, muttered under his breath. He looked up at Elain with pleading eyes. “Don’t let me get in trouble.”

Elain suppressed her laugh and nodded at him. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Tobias held out his pinky finger. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," Elain swore. Gods, this kid was a gem.

Elain watched as a man approached her yard. His face was twisted with frustration, presumably because his son ran away, but he was… beautiful. Elain sucked in a breath as she ran her eyes up and down his body. He was wearing a loose white shirt, slightly sheer, that had a very deep V. The sleeves were cut off messily and he wore a fake sword on his hip. He was a pirate. A sexy pirate. But it was definitely a costume that wasn't advertised as 'sexy.' No, it was the man wearing it that made it sexy. And to make it even better, he looked as if he’d thrown it on last minute when his son reminded him it was Halloween.

The man stopped in front of Tobias. He crossed his arms, paying no mind to Elain.

“You’re in big trouble."

“But –”

“We’ve talked about this, Tobias. You can’t just run away from someone when you get bored.”

Now Elain really had to hold in her laugh. She covered it with a cough.

That's when Tobias’s father realized they had an audience. He directed his authoritative stare to Elain, and his hazel eyes immediately softened. She did her best to not fidget as his eyes ran over her. He must have seen the humor on her face because his lips twitched upward.

Fucking adorable.

“Sorry about my son,” he said sincerely, shooting a glare at an oblivious Tobias from the corner of his eye. “I’m Azriel. And you are?”

“Elain," she told him with a shy smile.

“Elain,” he echoed, testing it out on his tongue. Shivers ran down Elain’s arms. His voice was like velvet. She could listen to him repeat her name over and over again for hours.

Stop being so creepy.

“You, uh –” Azriel stumbled over his words awkwardly as he tried to find the words. “I love your costume.”

Elain blushed appreciatively. But before she could thank him, Tobias groaned.

“C’mon, Daddy, that was so lame. Get her phone number or something.”

Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she nearly lost it. It was Azriel’s turn to blush this time.

“Tobs, now’s not the time –”

“But she’s so pretty and nice! I already love her,” he pouted up at his father.

Azriel mumbled incoherent words as he tried to usher his son off the porch. “We should really go,” Azriel said, trying to avoid eye contact with her. He was so awkward. She loved it. “I’m so sorry again.”

“Wait!" Elain blurted out, trying to delay his departure. Azriel looked at her and she gave him a sheepish smile. "You forgot to grab some candy."

Tobias didn't need to be told twice. Elain held out the bowl for him to choose. He fished around for a while before picking three Skittles packages. Elain gave him a wink before turning to Azriel.

“Everyone should get candy on Halloween,” she grinned at him.

He looked at her curiously before smiling gratefully and taking a piece of candy without even looking to see the options.

“Thank you, Elain," he said, his tone sincere and soft. She nearly melted right there.

"Happy Halloween," she murmured as she watched Azriel back away, Tobias looking at his father as if he had two heads. Azriel seemed to be in a daze, giving Elain a small wave as he continued to walk backwards. He stumbled over his own feet, earning a laugh from Elain. Then, he finally turned around and walked out of sight.

---------------------------

“It’s so wonderful to meet you!” Elain exclaimed, ignoring the hand that Rhysand held out and going straight in for a hug.

“Don’t suffocate him,” Feyre joked as she watched them embrace.

Elain had arrived to their place a couple minutes early, eager to meet her sister’s boyfriend. Elain backed away to let Nesta introduced herself. Elain leaned over to Feyre.

“You didn’t tell me how cute he is,” Elain whispered with a giggle.

Feyre laughed. “Did I mention he has two brothers?”

Elain’s jaw dropped. “No, you seemed to have conveniently left that part out.”

“Well, they’ll be here soon,” Feyre said with a twinkle in her eye. “And they’re both single.”

Nesta turned to them as they laughed secretively. Rhysand followed her gaze. “What are you two giggling about?”

Before Feyre had a chance to answer, the doorbell rang. She excused herself, Rhysand right on her tail.

Elain looked over at her older sister to see her glaring down at her. “Let me guess: you guys were talking about Rhysand’s brothers.”

“How’d you know?”

Nesta let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s already tried to set me up with one of them.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

Nesta scoffed. “Horribly. She failed to mention that he was a grade A –”

“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart,” a low voice interrupted Nesta’s rant.

A man approached them, hands in pockets as he strutted confidently. His long brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and a five o’clock shadow on his sharp jaw. Elain watched as her sister dragged her hands down her face and groaned at the mere sight of him. That only made him chuckle deeply.

“Miss me?”

Nesta ignored his comment and reluctantly gestured to him. “Elain, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is my other sister Elain.”

Cassian shot her a goofy grin and reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Elain. I’ve never seen anyone rock fairy wings like you are.”

Elain couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Ugh, stop charming everyone!”

“I’m irresistible, sweetheart,” Cassian batted his eyelashes.

“I need a drink,” Nesta muttered to herself before walking away and in the direction of the kitchen.

Cassian winked at Elain before following her sister. “I could use a drink too!"

Elain listened to them bicker as they walked away, a smile touching her lips.

Over the next couple hours, more and more people arrived at Rhysand and Feyre’s place. It soon got crowded, Elain unable to hear over the booming music and incessant chatter.

She was sitting on an loveseat in the corner watching Cassian trying to convince Nesta to dance with him when she heard a familiar voice.

"Sorry I'm so late, the babysitter cancelled last minute and I had to find a replacement."

Elain's head snapped to the foyer where Feyre and Rhys stood with another man. Elain got a glimpse of his face as he took off his jacket, and her suspicions were confirmed.

It was Azriel.

Elain's heart was beating out of her chest as she watched Feyre lead Azriel into the living room where she sat.

Then he spotted her.

He stopped dead in his tracks, Feyre continuing to walk and talk, not noticing that she no longer had his attention. No, his eyes were on Elain and Elain alone.

Elain gave him a little wave. Azriel's lips turned into a full out smile as he caught up to Feyre, who had been leading him to Elain anyway. Presumably to introduce him to her and Nesta.

"Azriel, this is -"

"Elain," he finished. His eyes were still on her, disbelief on his face.

Feyre looked between them confusedly. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Uh..." Elain started, unsure of what to say. "Sort of?"

"I went out with Tobias and we incidentally stopped by her house," Azriel explained.

"Well," Feyre said with a mischievous grin. "I guess I'll leave you guys to it." She shot Elain a look that said, You should make a move.

And just like that, they were alone.

Azriel took a seat beside Elain, leaving only a couple inches between them as he turned his body toward her. He smelled amazing.

"So, you're Feyre's sister, huh?" Azriel gazed at her earnestly and bumped his shoulder against hers. "I guess that means we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Elain bit her lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. "No complaints here."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they watched others dancing and drinking. The current song faded out and "Creep" by Radiohead began to play.

"Would you, um... would you like to dance?" Azriel asked her tentatively.

Oh my gods, yes! What kind of question is that?

"I would love to," Elain exclaimed.

Azriel stood and held out his hand. The moment Elain took his hand with her own, she was a goner.

He led them to the makeshift dance floor before bringing her hand to his shoulder and grabbing her waist gently with his hand. Fire shot through Elain when his thumb circled idly on her palm. Then, he pulled her in close.

"This okay?" Azriel murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. She shivered and nodded.

"Did I mention," he continued, spinning them in a slow circle, "that you are absolutely gorgeous?"

Elain hid her face against his shoulder to smile widely before craning her neck to look at with him, a twinkle in her eye. "I think you were too busy tripping over your own feet to mention that."

Azriel tipped back his head and laughed loudly. She loved the sound. "You wound me, Elain," he told her, but Elain could see the faint blush in his cheeks. He leaned in to whisper, "You're right though. You make me nervous."

The music swelled, and Azriel guided both of Elain's hands to cup the back of his neck. He encircled his arms around her waist until their bodies were flush against each other, their foreheads touching.

"I like Tobias. He's a great kid."

Azriel's entire body seemed to relax as he gave her an easy smile. "He's a handful, and I love him."

"I can tell," Elain told him. "You're a good dad."

"Thank you." Azriel huffed out a laugh. "You're something else, Elain Archeron."

Elain leaned her head back and she searched his hazel eyes. "Is that a good thing?"

Something unreadable flashed in his eyes. "Yes."

And then he was capturing her lips in his to give Elain the sweetest kiss she'd ever had.

-----------------------

tag list (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @liquifyme @maastrash @thewayshedreamed

#halloween #my writing #fic #fanfiction #acotar #elriel #elain archeron #a court of thorns and roses

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merakiui · 4 years

Note

You got any yandere hcs of the boys before we start. Im an yandere obsessed anon who lives and brreaths reading this shit and I wanna know how fucked we can get

(Here you go, wonderful anon! I’ll post yandere hcs for the other teams soon. I’d also like to post yandere fics for these boys, but I’m not sure if anyone’s interested. >-< I’ve got two sitting in my drafts, though!)

Yandere Morning and Day Teams

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 TW: (yandere) unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, mentions of kidnapping/captivity, gas-lighting, starvation, abuse

Morning Team (Mane)

🧩 Ghilley 🧩

Ghilley is definitely a stalker. He’ll be in your shadow whether you like it or not. Nothing escapes his watchful gaze, so it’s important that your enemies choose their words around you.

He’s already skilled at sneaking around, so he’ll use that to his advantage. Popping in to give you a spook, showing up when you’re out with someone else, and even when you think you’re alone.

He’ll follow you if he thinks you’re going to get yourself into trouble again. His poor manager just has a habit of attracting bad people. Just let Ghilley handle all those vengeful spirits. You won’t have to lift a finger!

If anyone gives you problems, tell Ghilley and that issue will be solved in no time. And if you get curious and ask him what happened, he’ll just shrug the question off in a playful manner.

His behavior is unpredictable, so you never know what he does in his spare time. Truthfully, Ghilley’s either watching you or he’s playing a few tricks on those who bothered you. They’ll remember not to mess with you if they’re given a permanent fright.

You won’t notice what’s going on until everyone starts to keep their distance. Friends will make up excuses so they won’t have to hang out with you, and those who might’ve had some romantic interest in you have cut communication altogether.

When you’re feeling down, Ghilley will swoop in to cheer you up. You start to normalize your relationship with him because it’s all you currently know. No one else is willing to talk to you, so you can only rely on him.

Ghilley knows it must hurt to be alone, but it’s the only way he can have you to himself. So he’s willing to bury his pain if it means he’ll get to console you.

He wouldn’t hurt you, but he might remind you every now and then that he’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned you yet.

Yet. A word that’s become part of his daily vocabulary. A word that reminds you of the fact that he could leave you one day.

☀️ Ell ☀️

He shouldn’t feel these emotions to begin with. It’s almost...dirty, in a way. Almost like he’s sinning.

He’s not doing anything bad, though. Loving you was what got him kicked out of Heaven in the first place, but that’s not entirely evil in itself. At first, he assumed Cupid’s Arrow was the one to blame for these lovey-dovey feelings, but it’s not Cupid’s job to foster obsession among former angels.

He doesn’t recognize how suffocating his presence truly is. You’d probably have to tell him to back off before he stops sticking by your side, and even if you did something like that it’d make Ell incredibly sad. Without realizing it, he’ll start to guilt-trip you.

“I’m sorry, Manager! You just looked like you could use some company. I... I can leave you alone if that’s what you want. You might think I’m annoying and—achoo!”

Nowadays, he’s been sneezing a lot, but the idea that his love for you is what’s causing all of this never crosses his mind. He just can’t wrap his head around that. Why would love, a pure, wonderful feeling, make him sneeze?

Under that smile of his are a dozen worries. He’s afraid he’ll chase you away or that you’ll stop liking him. Ell would feel crushed if that ever happened, so all of his energy goes into appeasing you.

He’ll show up unannounced at your office with your favorite snacks, follow you around the campus, and talk to you about literally anything. He could ramble about the grass if it means you’ll spare him your time.

Ell doesn’t really know the meaning of jealousy or hatred. Having been an angel once, he’s not used to negativity. He doesn’t necessarily feel extreme envy, nor does he hate any of the Reapers, but he does sulk about it.

It’s hard to say when he got obsessed. Perhaps it was when you first met and you mistook him for your own guardian angel. Despite the fact that he’s not an angel anymore, Ell likes the sound of that.

It’s a guardian angel’s job to care for and protect humans, so surely you won’t mind if he stays glued to you like a fungus. After all, it’s harmless, happy Ell! You’ve got nothing to worry about!

🐴 Jamie 🐴

Jamie is so strong it’s scary. Good luck trying to beat him in a fight if you ever attempt an escape.

He seems so innocent and kind on the outside, always willing to lend a hand when you’re struggling with Non-Non. If he’s being honest, he likes doing chores with you. It almost feels like the both of you are working on a farm together in the desolate outdoors. Just you, him, sprawling farmland, and no civilization in sight. How cute is that?

No one suspects he's obsessed until they look beyond that soft appearance of his. His gaze will linger to the point where it’s creepy, and he’ll smile while he watches you work.

He’ll get better at technology and city life so he’ll have something else to chat about whenever it’s just you and him.

If he finds out that you’re interested in something, he’ll try his best to learn more about it. Oh, you mentioned a new movie that’s been released in the human world? Maybe he’ll have to see it for himself. Did you want to try a new pastry from your favorite bakery? Jamie will buy it for you, so you should go with him!

He’s reliable, kind, and helpful—surely you’ll fall for those qualities. If not, he’ll find another way. After all, there’s a saying that goes ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way,’ and it’s not like he’ll give up anytime soon.

Jamie likes to imagine a comfortable life with you on the farm. Both of you will tend to the land and the animals, you’ll always have fresh crops, and you'll be together forever. It’s an ideal fantasy, but if you’re not willing he might just have to lock you up in the stables.

Jamie doesn’t fret over potential rivals. If he was able to silence the thugs in his neighborhood, a few pesky humans are nothing.

He’ll get flustered when you say anything nice to him. It really warms his heart to be at the receiving end of your caring words.

And it’s even better when you're accepting his suffocating love. You’ll find that the bed is much softer than the stable. Just don’t push him too far. Sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength, and your bones can only take so much pressure.

💋 Licht 💋

Licht didn’t think he’d find his soulmate so soon! Whether you click or not, Licht certainly feels a special connection. He’s going to flirt with you no matter what.

It’s up to you whether you respond to his playful advances, but if you decide to humor him be prepared to have this man all over you. If you’re returning his playful gestures and remarks, it must mean something!

Licht lives for storybook romance. There’s something so lovely about sweeping his true love off of their feet, so he’d like to woo you in traditional ways. He’ll gift you your favorite candies, give you a bouquet of flowers, and buy you cute trinkets that remind him of you.

He takes note of what you wear and whether or not you put on a perfume/cologne on certain days. He’ll memorize your fashion style and then try to match it with his own. Licht’s happy whenever the two of you conveniently match outfits. It’s almost like you’re a couple.

He’ll probably spray his own cologne on your clothes if he ever gets a hold of them. You’ll wonder where this new scent came from, and Licht will be over the moon if you decide to leave it as it is.

Licht will invite you on dates under the guise that the two of you are just hanging out as friends. Lo and behold, his real motive is to act like your boyfriend. If you aren’t careful, he might just go around telling strangers that you’re his partner.

He’s always touching you in some way. Sometimes it’s an arm around your waist or his hands are on your shoulders. To some, it’s just his affectionate personality, but to you it’s completely suffocating.

Whenever he holds your hand, it almost feels like he’s daring you to try. Like he wants you to run off and get a taste of the scary world so that he can come in to save you like a true prince.

He hopes that enough flirting will have you confessing. All of these romantic gestures have got to count for something!

Despite this, Licht wants to believe you love him as much as he loves you. Tricking himself is easy, but convincing you is going to be a challenge.

Day Team (Die)

🎹 Theo 🎹

Theo’s harbored some dark thoughts ever since he witnessed you and Nine in the storage room, happily playing the piano like a pair of friends. Like a pair of lovers.

Theo can’t stand it when the others are around you, especially if they have ill-intent. Whenever he takes care of bullies or vengeful spirits, he’s got this dead look on his face. It’s devoid of any feeling, and his eyes are filled with silent anger. It’s a stare that does more than curse; it could probably kill.

He’s rather clingy, always insisting that he accompany you to and from your destinations. If you decline, he’ll just smile and act polite. But if he finds out that you decided to go with someone else...

Theo wants to be the only one in your life. Everyone else is just a worthless germ that needs to be scrubbed away. If they linger around you for too long, he worries you’ll become infected.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to learn a lesson. If you’re so picky about eating the food he so graciously went out and purchased, then maybe you don’t deserve to eat at all. Not until you warm up to his cooking, that is.

He’s willing to do anything for you in order to appear perfect. If you were to tell him to shoulder your workload, he’d do it without a single complaint. If you wanted him to watch paint dry, he’d do it with his head full of you.

All he ever thinks about is you. Sure, his mind flits from June to new recipes to the piano every now and then, but it always seems to settle on you in the end.

What did you eat for breakfast? Did you get enough sleep? Would you like something to drink? Where are you going with Youssef? Why is Nine getting close to you? Why aren’t you looking at him?

Theo will know everything about you in time. Whether you like it or not, he’s going to unearth every detail he can. Even mundane habits you don’t pay attention to. Before you know what’s happening, Theo’s got your schedule memorized thoroughly.

He holds no remorse for those who get in his way. As sweet and disarming as he may seem to those around him, Theo’s wicked behind closed doors. That spell book of his has no business gathering all this dust.

🌹 Louis 🌹

Everyone assumes Louis has no interest in anyone other than himself, so it’s a surprise when he starts to give you more attention than normal.

His compliments start getting personal and they still don’t make sense. Just the other day, you were trudging through the hall, dead-tired, when Louis passed you. He stopped, smiled, and said, “Thy radiance outshines the brightest of stars!”

He’s always energetic like that, so it’s not like his behavior is particularly strange. But he spends more time flattering you than himself. His main priority isn’t his beautiful face anymore.

You deserve the world. Why hasn’t anyone given it to you yet? Fear not because Louis is determined to give you everything you could ever want. He’s a prince, after all, so it’s only fair that you sit upon the throne with him.

There’s no room for anyone else in this relationship. It’s just you and him. If you were to leave him, his heart would shatter! Sadness has never been a good fit on Louis, and you know how much he cares for his appearance. So you’ll do him a favor and stay so he won’t wilt like a rose, right?

It’s almost like he lives off of you. You’re his sunlight, water, and fresh air. Any less of your attention and he’s sighing dramatically. Won’t you be a dear and cheer him up? After all, it’s not every day you see Louis so upset.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. If you do, Louis will just ignore your hurtful feelings. He’s got more than enough love to go around. Surely that’ll convince you that he means no harm.

You’ll be treated like royalty, and everyone else is a mere peasant. Sure, Louis can say that he treasures everyone, but some people just aren’t worth his time.

Naturally, a prince deserves the finest, and he won’t settle for anyone who isn’t you.

So don’t fret! Those chains are only temporary, and once you show him some hospitality he’s willing to ease up on his restrictions. Although his sense of freedom is rather cracked.

♞ Ethan ♞

Ethan is a tough case. He hardly shows his emotions, so it’s difficult to determine how he’s feeling. He’ll never show any hostility towards you, though. It’s nothing but warmth and kindness.

When it comes to the others, he’ll give them the cold shoulder and a few cruel remarks. His patience tends to wear thin when he sees people bothering you.

Ethan’s like a hawk. He’ll keep an eye on you to make sure you’re staying out of trouble and he’ll swoop in as soon as something unsavory happens.

He’ll treat you like a glass figurine that’s always on the verge of breaking. At some point, he becomes your unofficial knight in a way. He’s willing to defend you by all means necessary, so everyone else should back off if they know what’s best for them.

At first, he scorned these feeble emotions for getting in the way of his stony resolve, but now he’s come to accept them.

It’s impossible to deter him from his motives. Once he’s got his mind set, he won’t change it. After all, everything he does is completely intentional.

He’ll just stare at you while you struggle in those bindings. If you were smart, you’d just accept your fate and act docile, but Ethan’s not a fool. He’ll keep you bound for as long as it takes.

You can try to reason with him, but nothing ever works. No matter how sweet the deal may seem, he never agrees to any of it.

Ethan will take care of you while you’re adjusting to a permanent life with him. You won’t go a day without a bath, healthy meals, or a lack of sleep. If Ethan says you’ll bathe, you’ll bathe. If he says you’ll eat, you’ll eat. His word are practically law.

Despite his harsh rules, he’s not that hard on you. He’d never lay a hand upon you, nor will you find yourself at the end of his sharpened sword. As long as you fall into a pleasant routine with little complaint, he’ll be happy.

💥 June 💥

June doesn’t realize his feelings for you are unhealthy. He just thinks they’re a natural part of life! Everyone falls in love at some point, right? So you can’t blame him when he’s doing everything he can to spend more time with you.

Your paperwork will never get done because June wants you to watch him while he trains. He’ll even show you his workout routine, hoping you’ll agree to train with him one day.

He’s one of the Reapers who doesn’t get jealous much. Unless someone’s really trying to get him to snap—which doesn’t happen often. But in the event that he does feel envious, he’ll frown a bit, his voice won’t be at its usual loudness, and he’ll sulk.

Immediately perks up the moment you give him any attention. He practically lives off of your reactions and has no problem announcing that to everyone.

June will remain loyal to you no matter what! Nothing can separate the two of you, and he’s convinced himself that you feel exactly the same. If you’re always smiling, it must mean that you accept his feelings! So then why have you started acting awkward when he continues to ramble passionately about how much he admires your strength and persistence?

Try to leave him and he’ll be so heartbroken. June won’t know how to react! Why would you want to leave? He’s never done anything that would warrant this kind of behavior. Maybe he just needs to give you more affection.

Bright and early, he’s knocking on your dorm with a huge grin. “Manager, the sun hasn’t risen yet, but that doesn’t mean we should wait for it! Let’s train hard today! Haha!”

June loves protecting you. Whenever he saves you from danger, he feels like a hero in those action movies he loves so much. Anyone would love to get saved by someone who’d die for them! This sort of loyalty will have you falling for him in no time.

And if it doesn’t, he can just create a few perilous scenarios. What you don’t know can’t kill you, right?

You’re his soulmate, so there’s no way he’d give you up in his afterlife.

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skys-unused-main · 4 years

Note

Flintwood?

who wakes up early to rake leaves and who stays inside and watches?

Because they are very competitive they somehow managed to turn raking leaves into a competition. They both tell the other house one not worry about because they will rake the leaves. Over the years it has turned it a competition to see who ends up raking the leaves. Frequently this ends with one of them raking leaves at 2 AM.

Who is the one who practically lives on anything pumpkin spice?

Oliver loves pumpkin spice lattes and drinks them constantly in the fall. Marcus thinks this is ridiculous because why would you add pumpkin spice to a perfectly good latte? Oliver says Marcus’s taste buds must be dead if he’d rather have a normal latte.

The ones who want to do a couple costume and the one who is forced into it

Oliver is definitely the one that wants to do couple costumes. Marcus thinks that it’s dumb.

The one who scares kids when they come trick-or-treating at their houses

Marcus definitely finds it quite funny to scare trick or treaters. Oliver just gives the kids extra candy to apologize for Marcus scaring them.

The one who gets a cold and the other has to take care of them.

Oliver gets a cold and he hates it because he can’t go to quidditch practice. Marcus takes care of him and they talk about quidditch plays. Even though he can’t play quidditch Oliver still enjoys getting to spend time with Marcus.

The one who throws a party and has to force the other person to come out of their room when guests are over

Oliver is the one who throws the party. He had to make Marcus come downstairs and stop being antisocial.

The one who is super excited about decorating

Oliver is more excited about decorating because he’s always loved decorating for Halloween so he of course decorates their house for Halloween.

The one who chooses the more gory decorations

Marcus does. He definitely contributes to the decorating by hanging plastic severed feet from the trees and stuff like that.

The one who insist that one of their dates is just staying inside, ordering in, and watching scary movies

I think it would be Oliver because he loves horror movie and has loved them as long as he can remember. Marcus grew up in a pureblood family so he didn’t know what TV was and found the TV scarier then the actual movie.

#harry potter #harry potter series #marcus flint #oliver wood #flintwood

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tarysande · 3 years

Text

Lucifer Fic: Sheet Happens (1/1)

For @thedeckerstarnetwork’s Halloween Challenge. @calia05 asked for “ghost” and “trick,” and said she loved Ella and Azrael. This is the result! <3

Also on AO3

Sheet Happens

Miss Lopez delivered the invitation in typical Miss Lopez fashion: as exuberantly as the world's friendliest golden retriever high on Adderall. Clearly handmade, she’d cut the card into the shape of a cartoonish ghost, white bedsheet and all, and covered it with an absurd amount of silvery glitter. Meaning, of course, that it covered him with an absurd amount of silvery glitter in short order. The sparkles stood out against the black of his suit like snowflakes. Or dandruff. Not that the Devil was in any way personally acquainted with the latter.

“Thank you,” he said gravely, holding the glitter bomb at as close to arm’s length as he could politely get away with.

Miss Lopez wore her every emotion not just on her sleeve, but from the top of her head to the tips of her platformed running shoes. Today’s t-shirt featured a sad ghost with a spilled cup of coffee and the phrase ‘Sheet Happens.’ “So, you’ll come?”

“Ah.” Even as the syllable emerged, Miss Lopez’s face began to fall. “It’s a … popular evening at Lux. I do rather feel I owe my patrons an appearance.”

“Oh,” she said, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand and leaving ghostly glitter behind. “Duh. I should’ve thought of that.”

The glitter was sentient. He could practically feel it creeping up his fingers. He would have to burn the suit; once infected, recovery was impossible. He could only imagine how infested her home must be. The mind behind the creation of the stuff was truly devious; in the darkest of hellscapes, he’d never come across anything quite so … persistent.

“Would you … prefer to offer the invitation to someone else?” he asked, gesturing slightly with the ghost held between the tips of finger and thumb.

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to have said. She wilted, and when she shook her head, even her ponytail seemed sad. “I made it for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, already fleeing back to her lab as fast as her impractically high shoes would allow.

“You’re going, Lou.”

Lucifer blinked. Though the music and revelry, sin and sensation raged around him at top volume, the words reached his ears as clearly as if they were spoken into utter silence. Beside him, Azrael slouched, wearing the form so clearly influenced by Miss Lopez.

Or perhaps it was the other way around? The Azrael of old hadn’t slouched. She hadn’t worn bizarre spectacles or sported bowl-cut hair and t-shirts with sayings on them. When she glared up at him, hands planted on hips, her cloak parted wide enough for him to make out today’s offering. In the same cute-cartoon style as Ms. Lopez’s, it depicted a Grim Reaper, coffee in hand and wearing the exhausted expression Lucifer had so often seen on human faces after too little sleep or too much alcohol, next to the words ‘I FEEL LIKE DEATH.’

Lucifer sipped his whiskey to give his hands and his mouth something to do besides reply.

“Not just for Ells. Literally every one of your friends is there.”

He sighed, stepping aside as a tipsy angel with crooked wings tried to press up against his side. The cloying scent of her cheap Victoria’s Secret perfume wasn’t as easy to avoid. Neither was her pout.

“But you’re the Devil,” she whined in a voice he wished he heard much less clearly. “And I’m an angel. It’s sexy.”

“More like incestuous,” Azrael murmured, catching Lucifer so off-guard he choked on his drink. The smug grin she shot him was entirely the Rae-Rae of old. She nudged him with her cloaked elbow. “Still got it.”

He inclined his head at the disappointed angel, sidestepped a werewolf and vampire with tongues so deeply down each other’s throats that witnesses would convert to #TeamWhoNeedsBellaWhenYouHaveEdwardAndJacob at the sight of it, and swiped a bottle of whiskey he refused to see poured for anyone with such undiscerning tastes as the Borat who’d just ordered it. Evidently the bouncers had forgotten the longstanding no-neon-green-mankinis rule.

Azrael followed on his heels, and though he bloody well knew no one else could see her, somehow the seething crowds parted more easily for her than they had even for him.

“Why are you here instead of there?”

“I—you see how busy—”

“Uh, I see how you haven’t talked to anyone for longer than two minutes, your piano’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re basically oozing sulking-Devil-do-not-approach vibes.”

“You try my patience, Azrael.”

She shrugged. A trio of sexy nurses—or perhaps maids; it was hard to tell given the lack of fabric—contorted themselves into shapes he should have found pleasing to avoid being too near to her. One attempted to fall toward him, but he slid to the side so she ended up grappling with one of the evening’s nineteen (at last count) Captains America.

“Yeah? Well, you’re bugging me too,” she said, evidently oblivious to the effect her presence was having. “You didn’t even read the card, did you?”

“The … excuse me?”

Azrael’s prodigious eye roll involved every muscle in her face. “From Ella?”

A twinge of something like regret turned the whiskey on his tongue to ashes. He’d dropped disco-ghost into an evidence bag before it could do any more damage and left it at the precinct without sparing it a second thought.

Azrael thrust that same evidence bag into his chest hard enough to send him staggering back half a step. Another angel got partway through a curse Lucifer had a hard time imagining any of his siblings speaking before she realized the Devil to whom that curse was directed. He sensed a new rule for the bouncers brewing.

Of course, the most persistent of the angels presently irritating him didn’t obligingly flit off into the crowd at his glower. He’d no idea how someone so vertically challenged could make him feel small, and yet. The evidence bag and its spectral occupant had fluttered to the ground between them, where it lay like a murder victim bathed in blood glittering red from the overhead lighting. Sheet happens.

He bent from the waist, snatching up the invitation and stalking toward the elevator. The sea of demons and various sexy professionals and animals and … bloody hell, Sexy Donald Trump was infinitely worse than the worst mankinied Borat. Some things couldn’t be unseen.

And then he was in the elevator, and it didn’t matter that Azrael wasn’t with him because she’d be waiting for him with her ridiculous fringe and, beneath it, eyes that always reflected the brother he could have been, perhaps, if he didn’t fail so spectacularly so often.

He scanned the room when the elevator door opened but saw nothing out of place, and when he called out, no one answered. Azrael could creep and hide and lurk as effectively as the angelic purpose over which she held dominion, but rarely from him.

He opened the evidence bag and dumped its contents on the bar, releasing the spirit and its miasma of sparkles. The bloody thing looked so bloody cheerful—and not at all like any of the spirits he’d had occasion to meet over the millennia.

Then again, give the thing a spectral ponytail and a cute t-shirt and maybe—

He silenced the thought by reaching for a bottle. He didn’t, at least for the first burning pull, even bother with a glass.

He poured the second drink. By the third, he was ready to open the damned—ha bloody ha—thing. In the ebullient handwriting so familiar from paperwork and post-it notes, Miss Lopez had written, “My brothers made Halloween more about tricks than treats, usually at my expense. It would be ‘boo’tiful if you could come to my party. COSTUMES MANDATORY.” Instead of her name, she’d drawn a pair of ghosts. One was grinning. It had a ponytail. The other was taller; it held a microphone. It also had devil horns and a tail.

It was grinning, too.

Lucifer closed the invitation and pushed it away with trembling fingertips.

“Why aren’t you there, Lou?”

He gripped the edge of the bar until the moment before the marble would have crumbled. “Surely you know better than anyone, sister.”

The sound she made, caught somewhere between a gasp and a cry, was enough to turn his head. “I’m not—Lucifer, you know I’m not—”

“But you will,” he said. “Because they’re human. Because you’re you. And because you will do as you must. So forgive me for choosing to spend this night of specters and shadows amidst those whose deaths, when they come, will not weigh near so heavily.”

Moments stretched into minutes. Azrael’s jaw worked, and her expression said the words she chewed were bitter ones. Finally, narrowing her eyes, she said, “That’s bullshit.”

Unexpected.

A flush rose in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled not with admiration or sisterly love, but with anger. “You’re sad their time is finite, so you’re wasting what time you do have sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Listen to yourself, Lou. No, seriously. Like, stop for one minute and actually hear the crap coming out of your mouth.” She glanced down at her hands like she was trying to figure out just how much damage they were capable of inflicting. “You’re so … dumb. Like. Just … dumb.”

And though he wanted to protest, wanted to explain in painful, specific detail just why death and eternity and banishment from Heaven made his situation so much bloody worse … he didn’t.

Because Miss Lopez had drawn them as grinning ghosts. To her, this night was treats and costumes and friends and, as in so many traditions throughout all of bloody human history, defying the coming dark by facing it head-on. Perhaps the current tradition didn’t involve bonfires or sacrifices, but he’d be bloody damned—more damned—if gorging on candy and gathering in friendship and depicting the things humans knew went bump in the night without truly knowing how to name them as cartoons and bad puns wasn’t the very same flavor of ritual.

He released his grip on the bar. His hands glittered.

“Costumes are mandatory,” Rae-Rae reminded him.

When he glanced over his shoulder again, she was gone.

He stood outside, listening to the laughter within, for fifteen minutes. He raised his hand to knock eighteen times. He turned to leave at least seven.

“I’m gonna do it if you don’t, Lou.”

Bloody sisters.

He knocked. Moments stretched into eternities.

The door, decorated with glimmering ghosts and glittering pumpkins, opened, revealing Miss Lopez in all her pool-noodle-turned-double-helix-DNA glory.

For a moment, Miss Lopez’s wide eyes were so like Rae-Rae’s—the same belief in him; the same, dare he say it, love—that Lucifer couldn’t find breath for whatever foolish, nonchalant nonsense he’d usually have opened with. And when those eyes filled with glistening tears to accompany a grin no drawing could possibly capture, he was the first to look away.

“You came! In costume!” Leaning forward, she squinted at him, then reached out and plucked at his costume. “Oh my God, Lucifer, tell me you didn’t cut eyeholes in a freaking silk sheet that probably cost like, a month of paychecks.”

“I do not lie, Miss Lopez, so I can say no such thing.” Though she couldn’t see it, he grinned at the way horror and delight mingled on her features. He brushed close, close enough to give the phantom equivalent of the hugs she handed out so enthusiastically, and pretended not to feel a little teary-eyed himself at how tightly she returned the gesture. “Who am I to defy your command?”

She laughed and punched him on the arm. “Have you met you?”

“Ahh,” he replied gently. “But have you met you?”

This time, the laughter he heard belonged not to Miss Lopez but to his sister. And though she, too, was bound to her commands, as he stepped into the warmth and light and laughter of Miss Lopez’s home, Azrael’s dominion was the very last thing on his mind.

#thedeckerstarnetwork #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #deckerstar #lucifer on netflix #calia05 #thank you for your prompts #it's still halloween ... in Hawaii?#i'm not in hawaii #but at least it's halloween somewhere #my fic #lucifer fic #HAPPY HALLOWEEN

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peppersonironi · 4 years

Text

For @duketectivecomics‘s Duke Week Day Six: All in the Batfamily

Summary: Duke gets woken up at night and is roped into a strange initiation ceremony into the bats. Despite initial chaos, Duke finds that he is actually enjoying himself, and that maybe being a part of this family isn’t such a scary thing. Throwing a glitter bomb at Batman is definitely scary though.

“Are you ready?”

Duke opened his eyes, to find Dick Grayson hovering a few inches away from his face. “Gah!” Duke let out, scrambling backwards on his bed till he hit the headboard. “What are you doing?”

“Poor reflexives,” Duke looked past Dick to find Damian frowning at him, “And he should have known we were present before waking.”

“Settle down, kid,” This time Jason spoke, “Not everyone is as freaky as you.”

Duke blinked the sleep away from his eyes, and surveyed the scene before him. Dick was still by his bed, grinning. Damian and Jason stood behind, along with Cass, Tim, and Stephanie. Wow, when was the last time he’d ever seen all these guys together in the same room without killing each other? Duke had a worrisome feeling that he was the reason for this strange behavior.

“Um,” Duke asked, “What’s going on? It's 2 am.”

“We’re welcoming you to the family!” Dick’s grin grew impossibly wider.

“But I’ve been here four months?”

Tim shook his head. “But you haven’t had a proper welcome, yet. We had to wait till everyone was here, and Steph insisted she be a part.

“Heck yeah!” The blonde teen said, “I’m a part of this family, whether you like it or not! Bruce even gave me an allowance!”

“You tricked him into giving you his credit card,” Jason replied dryly.

“Like you haven’t done that before.”

“I don’t bother tricking him.”

Duke looked back and forth at the exchange, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Damian sighed. “In order to truly be a Wayne, you must go through the initiation period.” “That's not ominous at all.”

“Tour,” Cass said, “You learn things. Not bad, fun.”

Duke nodded. “Thank you, Cass.” He was still confused, but at least she was trying.

“If you would get dressed, we have much ground to cover.” Damian sniffed, but even Duke could tell the kid was excited.

Dick backed away from the bed. “We'll be right back, Duke, get ready!”

*****

Five minutes later, Duke found himself hastily dressed and standing in the entrance hall of Wayne manor. His siblings were arrayed in a semi-circle before him, all of them in weird red robes. They had managed to set up tiki torches at intervals around the room, adding to the atmosphere of doom.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the bonding between two families. That of the Thomas' and that of the Waynes.” Duke blinked at Tim. “Why are you making it sound like we're getting married?”

“Shh!”

“In this great ceremony, We accept you, Duke Thomas, into our fold. After this day henceforth, you will be one with the bats.” Tim took a deep breath and continued reading from the scarily large book in his hands. “The bonding day is set in three parts. The first, a display of power. You shall be shown our places, and our things, so that you are made privy to the goings on in the lives of Gotham's most secretive family. Next, You shall be given tasks by each member of the clan – excepting Bruce – that you must complete. Fail even one, and be warned.” Tim stared Duke down. “You have been warned. The final and most dangerous stage of all …” Tim stopped reading, and every single one of the gathered Waynes began to stomp their right foot. This went on for several seconds. “Is … Cake. Do you accept the challenge, Duke of the Narrows?”

Duke sighed. He didn't quite like the sound of this, but he might as well. “Sure.”

Jason whooped, and even Damian cracked a smile.

“Well,” Steph said, “let's get on with it!”

* * * * *

“And it was in this room that Dick broke his first chandelier.”

Duke paused, staring at Jason who had taken over as tour guide after Tim started foaming at the mouth. “First?”

The now recovered Tim grinned. “Yup! He's broken twenty three and a half in his fifteen year stay at the manor.”

Duke nodded. “Alrighty then.”

“Over here are some pictures of Bruce's great-great-great-great-great-great-great something aunts. If you look closely, you'll see the outline of mustaches. Bruce made us erase them.” Stephanie bounced by, pointing out exactly which paintings she had decimated.

The tour had been going on for almost an hour now, and Duke would be lying if he said he wasn't having fun. Sure, he had seen most of the stuff here, but the stories that went along with them were amazing. It was sweet to know which room Dick insisted they have a family movie in, back when it was only him, Bruce, and Alfred. It was hilarious to find out that the strange purple splotch on the love seat in one of the east wing's drawing rooms was from the time Damian insisted on trying slushies. Or the many tails that arose from the kitchen. From Bruce attempting to cook (He'd always wondered why Alfred had banned him) to the time Jason sleep walked himself into making beignets.

Cass had insisted they tour the air vents (He didn't know you could get into them, let alone that they could fit people, and wasn't quite sure what to do with the information) and trying to get Jason squished in was a highlight of the night. Cass also showed Duke the best hiding places in the manor, in case he ever needed to hide during a prank war. Or Bruce.

Stephanie knew the places with the thinnest walls, and also other tricks for listening in on conversations. She said she'd never had to use the information, but Duke wasn't convinced.

Dick explained the pros and cons of each chandelier in the manor, along with a very detailed instruction pamphlet on getting yourself onto one. Duke promised himself he'd never try.

Tim knew all the best wifi spots in each wing. Somehow, the wifi wasn't the exact same in every part of the house.

Jason knew the best sniper perches, and how to get there. Also, the coziest spots in the library, primed and ready for any avid bookworm. (Duke was actually excited for the second. He really did enjoy reading, but usually stuck to his room)

Damian was very solemn as he brought Duke to random places around the house that were apparently Alfred's (The cat's) and Titus' favorite hang outs. “In case you need a friend who is not as fallible as humans.”

The tour ended on the roof, each sibling taking to their claimed section. Duke was permitted to choose his own, and did so. He ended up picking a quiet outlook on the forrest, over the west wing.

Duke was given a few minutes of peace, not noticing till a little ways in that he was alone. Huh, he thought, this is kind of nice.

“Alright, Narrows,” Duke turned to find everyone staring at him, “You ready for the fun part?”

* * * * *

“Now lift up your left foot two inches … got it!”

Unfortunately, the first challenge that was given to Duke by Dick, had him breaking his earlier promise to himself. For you see, Duke Thomas now found himself wrapped in the crystal and gold of Wayne Manors largest chandelier.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Duke asked for the seventh time.

“Perfectly!” Dick replied, but the snickers and filming phones of his siblings made Duke question the acrobat's words.

Duke shifted on the chandelier and heard a soft cracking noise. He froze, terror rushing through his entire body.

“That was just me!”

Duke looked to down to find Stephanie pulling a couple twigs from her hair, and snapping them in two. She had a manic grin on her face. Oh, she knew exactly what she had done.

“Just don't do it again!”

“Don't worry, Duke,” Dick called, “You're almost done! You just need to chill for a bit longer. I'm gonna toss up this candy bar, and you need to eat it. Just try not to look like Superman when he sees kryptonite. If you don't catch it, you fail.”

Duke took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay, I'm r-”

The candy bar was flung up a second before Duke expected it, causing him to fumble and reach out a bit to far to grab it. The chandelier swung dangerously, and Duke let out a scream. A moment later, however, the swinging calmed down, and Duke paused long enough to register the roaring laughter coming from bellow him.

“Stop!” Duke said, “This isn't funny!”

“Yeah, it kinda is.” Tim was the first to speak, after having to lean heavily on Steph. “You forget, Duke, that each and every one of us had to go through this. It's great to see someone else panic. One of the few pros to Bruce's adoption addiction.”

Duke glowered. “Just stop laughing.”

“Chill, Duchess,” Jason grinned up at him. “Just eat the candy and you can come down.”

Duke sighed and unwrapped the kit-kat that had given him the worst fright of his life – and that included everything he saw on patrol. He gingerly broke it in two, put on a gruesome grin, and took a bite.

Everyone cheered, and Duke's grin became slightly more genuine. “You have completed the first task,” Tim said in a solemn voice. “Let us move on.”

Everyone filed out of the room, and Duke started to panic. “Hey wait! How do I get down!”

* * * * *

“I don't know if I can do this.” Duke sat in the batchair, Alfred having moved graciously to allow Duke to complete his task.

“It's simple Narrows,” Jason said, “Just press the button and ask the question. Simple.”

“But does it have to be … that?”

Jason looked very serious as he answered, “yes.”

Duke sighed. “Here goes nothing.” he reached forward and press the unmute button. “Hey, B?”

Batman's growl came through the speakers. “What are you doing awake, Signal? It's the middle of the night.”

“But you're awake.”

“I'm part of the night patrol. You're not. So what are you doing awake?”

“I need to ask you a question.”

Bruce sighed. “Go ahead.”

Duke sighed and looked back at his sibling who were all grinning maniacally. He turned back to the computer. “Does Santa exist?”

Bruce let out the most long suffering sigh Duke had heard that week. “One of your siblings better not have put you up to this.”

Duke looked at Jason, who was frantically shaking his head. “No, B. It's just, the freaking devil is real, right? And the greek gods, and a whole bunch of other stuff? So why not santa?”

Bruce sighed. “Good night, Signal,” and he logged off.

“Not our best,” Jason said, shaking his head, “next time we should ask how babies are made.”

“NEXT TIME?!?!?!!?”

* * * * *

“You can get it down in one gulp if you try hard enough!”

Duke looked over skeptically at Tim, who was making Duke drink a special blend of espresso, five hour energies, and Monster.

“You just need some ambition!”

Duke gulped. “Ambition to die?”

Tim sighed. “Just do it. If you don't, you'll fail the challenge, and you DON'T want to find out what happens then.” His point was emphasized by every single one of the bats unleashing their personal batglares upon him.

Duke grimaced, grabbed the venti Starbucks's cup, and gulped it down. He swayed for a moment. “I'm never sleeping again.”

Tim grinned, “Nope!”

* * * * *

Damian's task was relatively simple. His pets had to approve of him. They'd already gotten Alfred's, Titus', and Bat-cow's approval, and they were outside trying to find Jerry the turkey.

“Got him!” Stephanie called from bushes, and a loud squawking ensued. She walked over, carrying the bird and placing in front of Duke.

Everyone stood still for a moment, then Damian spoke. “He approves.”

Duke grinned. “Great, what's the next challenge?”

Damian smirked, and Duke's stomach dropped. The eleven year old turned around and whistled sharply. Large wing beats sounded from far off and a huge shape appeared on the horizon. As it approached, Duke could make out what appeared to be a large, fuzzy dragon. The animal landed right in front of Duke, and Damian continued.

“Thomas, meet Goliath.” the tiny terror turned to the beast. “Goliath, decide his fate.”

* * * * *

“So, what do you have for me, Cass?” Duke asked warily. He knew Cass was the nice one, but he wouldn't put it past her to choose something … questionable.

Cassandra smiled sweetly, leaned forward, and whispered in Duke's ear, “hug Jason.”

Duke sighed. That wasn't too bad. He turned around and faced Jason head on. “So, what did she sa-”

Jason was cut off by Duke launching forward and wrapping his arms around Jason's huge chest.

The young man sighed. And wrapped his arms around Duke. “Eh,” he said when he saw the looks he was getting, “Duchess isn't too bad.”

Dick grinned. “Does that mean I get a hug?”

Both Duke and Jason tensed. “On the count of three,” Jason whispered, “We run.”

Dick grinned and opened his arms.

“One.”

He took a step forward.

“Two.”

Dick smiled. “Come on, guys!”

“THREE!! RUN!!!”

* * * * *

“Now pour delicately, Master Duke,” Alfred said as he instructed Duke on how to properly have tea. Everyone had insisted on going to Alfred before Stephanie's challenge, which had Duke worried slightly, but he honestly enjoyed having tea.

“Don't forget to have good posture,” The butler continued. Duke frowned slightly. Maybe this would be longer than he thought.

* * * * *

“Now a tad more glitter. You can never have enough!”

Duke followed the instructions, finishing up the glitter bomb which Stephanie had taught him how to make. He wasn't sure what it was going to be used for, but he knew it wasn't gonna be good.

“Great job, Duke!” Stephanie grinned, then turned to Dick. “How much longer till Bruce gets back from patrol?”

Ah. Yeah, this definitely wasn't going to be good.

“Five minutes,” Dick replied, “Everyone in position!”

And so Duke found himself dragged into the Batcave, glitter bomb behind his back, and a hastily memorized instruction to throw and run in his mind. Five minutes later, the batmobile rolled into the cave. Bruce jumped and and came over to Duke.

“What are you still doing up?”

“Bruce, would you ever disown me?”

Bruce frowned and pulled off the cowl. “No, Duke. Of course not.”

Duke nodded. “Would you ever break your no-kill rule just for me?”

Bruce smiled and shook his head. “Never.”

“Okay, most important question,” Duke paused and took a deep breath, “Would you ever blame me for something that isn't my fault?”

“Not if I can help it, I promise you that.”

Duke took another deep breath and nodded. “Alright.” He then in one swift movement pulled out the glitter bomb from behind his back, and threw it at the Dark Knight of Gotham. The Caped Crusader. The Batman.

Duke turned and bolted, leaving a stunned Bruce Wayne in his wake. Once he was in the stairwell, he turned in time to see Bruce completely covered in purple glitter. He looked down at himself, then up to the heavens.

“STEPHANIE!!!” He yelled.

* * * * *

“That was legendary, Narrows!”

Duke grinned back at Jason. Sure, lobbing a glitter bomb at the guy who was currently giving you a home (not to mention said guy was THE BATMAN) had been one of the worst experiences of his life, but even he had to admit it was funny.

“Seriously, Duke,” Tim replied, “I don't think I could have done that.”

“And the dialogue leading up to it!” Dick grinned as he sat next to Duke on the couch.

“It was worthy of cake,” Damian replied, a smile on his face.

“Speaking of cake!” Stephanie announced as she strolled into the room, a large cake in hand. On the top read 'one of us'. She set it down on the coffee table in front the sofa.

Cassandra grinned as she handed Duke the cake knife. “One of us,” she said, and the chant was soon picked up.

“One of us! One of us! Once of Us!”

Duke grinned as he sliced through the cake. Everyone cheered.

“So how do you feel, Duke? Got the crazies yet?” Stephanie asked as she collapsed on the sofa.

Duke grinned. “Not yet.”

Jason laughed. “Give it some time, kiddo.”

Duke settles back and took a bite of his cake – blue velvet – and pressed play on the movie. Everyone settled down, eating cake and enjoying The Incredibles.

* * * *

A few hours later when Duke was the only awake, Bruce quietly walked into the room.

“How'd initiation go?”

Duke sighed contentedly. “Good.”

Bruce smiled. “Get some sleep. You did well tonight.”

Duke didn't bother trying to figure out the implications of that sentence, opting instead to settle back into the cuddle pile. Cass, tucked under his arm, Damian on his lap, Dick wrapped around his other side, Stephanie atop Jason, and Jason and Tim woven into the chaos of limbs. It was warm and strangely comfortable.

Duke sighed, smiling. It's nice, he thought, belonging.

#dukeweek2020 #duke thomas #batfamily #sibling bonding #batsiblings #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #being part of the family

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