#and way too tempting to yell at each other for writing/reacting wrong

[lloydskywalkers]

let me just start out by saying i love ever single one of your stories!!! i’m pretty new to the show and your works just add so much more feeling to everything and it’s sooo good!!! i don’t know if you ever do requests or not, so don’t bother with this if you’re busy!! but if you ever get a chance could you write smthg abt Jay and Kai? their friendship is so underrated but so good and i live for the moments in the show when Kai’s big brother instinct(tm) kicks in for him as well as Nya and Lloyd

aH thank you so much!! i’m so glad to hear that :D and this isn’t...exactly what you asked for, but Kai and Jay have this fun of dynamic that reminds me a lot of me and my brother, and i’ve been tossing around little bits of interaction between them for a while now, so i tried to make something coherent out of those :’D

Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at the whole compartmentalizing thing, for the most part. Mainly because he actually knows what it means, and it is not, for instance, locking your team up in a literal compartment while rushing off to fight the other compartment that is your resurrected homicidal father into submission.

“That was one time,” Lloyd will grumble, as if he’s only almost-died once. And then Jay will flinch, because that’s where his compartments come into play.

(Nadakhan gets one, Unagami gets another, the whole fun-times adoption reveal another, and everything else can get stuffed into the metaphorical attic since they won’t pay rent.)

Unfortunately, the attic is where the bad stuff lives.

Metaphorically.

If Jay had a nickel for every time he almost lost all of his friends, he’d have two nickels, plus another nickel for Cole falling into the fog, and another for Lloyd getting crushed by a roof, and another for Zane blowing up, and another for Nya in that awful dress with paling skin as her breathing stutters and the light in her eyes draining and —

And Jay is way, way too familiar with how it looks when his family dies, and all the nickels in the world won’t help that.

So while Jay likes to think he’s pretty good at compartmentalizing, he also thinks he’s got a valid excuse for the way he reacts when Lloyd goes down in the fight that afternoon. Sure, some vague part of his mind remembers that they’ve got a plan they’re running, and Lloyd should easily be able to handle a tiny little stumble — but Jay’s mind is stuck in glaring oranges and health bars, the unsteady gasping noise Lloyd had made before he went down, dissolving into digitized cubes just like everyone else, and Jay—

Jay can’t handle that, compartments or not, so he clears the space between them in a heartbeat just in time to take the bullet that comes hurtling Lloyd’s way.

It’d probably be a very noble and touching scene, if one) Jay didn’t make a hideous squeaking noise when it hit because bullets hurt, and two) the bullet would have missed Lloyd by a good two feet anyways.

Ah well, he thinks, as everything devolves into panicked yelling. It’s the thought that counts.

Except thoughts do not count when Kai is involved, apparently. Or any of the rest of the team, for that matter.

“What is wrong with you?” Kai hisses right in his face, eyes wild and sparking. “I was covering Lloyd, what were you doing?”

“Filling in for you, obviously,” Jay retorts. He has an excellent followup to that, real snappy and all, except that’s the moment Kai’s hand clamps down on the bullet wound in his arm to stop the bleeding, and Jay ends up stifling a shriek instead.

Great, he thinks, fighting back stinging tears of pain as he tries not to take Kai’s apparent wrath too personally. At least Cole looks worried, along the the rest of the team, who are dutifully concerned for his wellbeing like proper teammates should be.

“He’s going to need the hospital,” Zane informs them, his voice a lot steadier and calmer than his words make Jay feel. Zane’s eyebrows furrow as he studies his arm. “Stitches, probably.”

Jay swallows, trying not to curse. There’s a sharp scream as Nya finishes taking out another attacker just beyond them, and Jay figures that’s good enough.

“Okay,” Lloyd says, squeezing Jay’s wrist briefly. Either in comfort about the stitches or thanks for trying to cover him, Jay’s not sure. It’s a nice gesture, nonetheless. “Kai, Cole, can you get him there while we finish up? Sooner the better.”

Cole gives a sharp nod, and offers to take Jay from where Kai’s got him in a death grip. Kai shakes his head, and Jay’s stomach sinks. Sure enough, as soon as they’re clear of the scene, Kai starts going off.

“What did you mean, ‘filling in for me’,” he grinds through his teeth, clearly not about to let this go.

Jay bristles in response at his tone. “I meant,” he bites out, through a hot flare of pain in his arm. Kai’s always merciless with the bandages, even when he’s not in a mood. “That you weren’t there. So I covered.”

He should leave it at that, but Jay’s in a foul enough mood to finish with a condescending, “You’re welcome.”

Kai’s expression grows thunderous. “You didn’t need to. I was right there, you shouldn’t have — you weren’t needed, you should’ve held back.”

Jay feels his chest go tight. His head is clouding with anger, and the pain in his arm isn’t helping, but — ‘you weren’t needed’? Kai really didn’t skimp on the jerk juice this morning, did he.

“Oh, like you could’ve done so much better,” Jay glares. “Lloyd would’ve been toast by the time you got to him.”

“I could’ve made it!”

“Yeah right—”

“I would have, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit!” Kai snarls back. Something in Jay snaps. Or maybe it’s just the steadily increasing blood loss, but of all the nerve—

“Well you didn’t, ‘cause you weren’t there!” he snaps back. “You were too slow, which is real funny since your brain is too!”

It’s not his best comeback, he’ll admit, but Kai looks as if he’s about to light him on fire, if he weren’t stuck carrying Jay like the cover of some awful romance novel, blood getting all over his uniform as they both scream at each other. Maybe Jay will get lucky, and Kai will combust, and they’ll both go up in flames before they can remember that Cole is right there watching them.

“Cut it out, now!”

Oops, too late. For all the incensed authority in Cole’s voice, there’s still a traitorous falter that lets them both know they’ve screwed up. They fall silent, the atmosphere heavy with the lingering tension and new sense of guilt.

And the disgusting sound of Jay’s blood leaking through the makeshift bandage and hitting the ground, truly revolting, he hates blood.

“Just…no more. Please, shut up until we’re at the hospital.” Cole marches forward, snatches Jay from Kai’s arms, and proceeds to beat the fastest route to the hospital at a militant pace.

Jay still looks like some helpless romance cover heroine, dangling from Cole’s arms like he is. It occurs to him that he doesn’t even need to be carried — it’s his arm that’s hurt, he can still walk—

But any protests die rapidly at the look on Cole’s face. And at least this way, Jay thinks sullenly, he can fixedly ignore Kai.

Then again, Kai’s got a killer glare, and Jay’s always been garbage at ignoring people when his feelings are hurt.

* * * * * * * *

Despite the fuss everyone makes, Jay’s arm really isn’t that bad. They hook him up with some pretty sweet meds so he remembers zero of the actual arm-fixing, and he wakes up just in time to complain about being held in the hospital for ‘observation’ or whatever.

“It’s to make sure there’s no infection, or that you don’t rip your stitches out,” Nya tells him pointedly. Jay cringes under the look she gives him at that last part. Geez. You get kicked in the stitches one time after sneaking out early and suddenly no one’s got any faith in you. Typical.

“Why couldn’t we have just gone to medbay,” Jay grumbles. “Pixal gives way better stitches than this, anyways.”

“Gun wounds get hospitals,” Nya reminds him. “And it’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on Pix when we can avoid it.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Nya glares at him. “It most certainly was that bad.”

“Oh, so when you get your arm crushed by a car, it’s fine,” Jay glares back. “But when I get a tiny little bullet nick, it’s that bad.”

Nya rolls her eyes, ignoring him. “Just think of it this way,” she says. “Now you have a little more time before Lloyd starts weeping apologies all over you.”

“Aw, no,” Jay groans, leaning back in the hospital bed. “Tell me he’s not blaming himself, Nya.”

“I think we had a promise about not lying to each other, or something,” Nya says, sympathetically. She winces. “Pretty sure he made the connection, too.”

Jay frowns. “What connection?”

Nya shifts, her eyes darting from side to side. “The, uh, the whole…Prime Empire, thing.”

Jay stares at her for a beat, trying to reconcile his blatant shock with the roiling nausea at the mention in his stomach. Nya looking at him all kind and sympathetically isn’t helping, either, because she might have made it down to the final two, but she was never all alone, and the reminder that she’d have been fine if Jay hadn’t gotten her killed twice is—

Bad. Real bad, not good, zero out of ten stars. Maybe he can take a bullet for Nya, next, and that’ll — that’ll help things, maybe. Equivalent exchange? Restitution? Some kind of fancy word that means Jay swears he’s gonna make it up.

In the meantime, he smothers the rising sickness in his throat and sinks lower into the bed, sulking. “It’s too easy to recognize trauma in this team.”

“I hear you,” Nya sighs, wearily. She nudges his shoulder, rising from her seat near the bed. “Speaking of. Someone’s got something they want to say to you.”

It takes Jay a second, but his eyes widen as Nya heads for the door. “Wait, wait wait wait, don’t you dare—”

“Love you,” Nya says cheekily, before taking her merry leave of the room. There’s a brief scuffle from outside, and the sound of Kai yelping, before Nya shoves him through the door, slamming it shut behind him with a damning click.

For a second, Jay’s tempted to hit the ‘call nurse’ button as hard as he can, in some desperate attempt to escape. Then he gets a good look at Kai, who’s turned a pale, queasy color that frankly looks awful on him, which is saying a lot ‘cause there isn’t much that doesn’t look good on Kai, but the expression he has on now—

Aw, man, now Jay’s feeling guilty and it isn’t even his fault. Stupid moral conscience center, he curses himself.

“So, uh…” he begins, because far be it from him to let this kind of awkward silence stretch on any longer. “Nice, ah, weather we’re having?”

Kai doesn’t respond, staring fixedly at the floor, and Jay sizes up the ‘call nurse’ button again. Just for the both of their sakes, of course.

But then Kai takes a deep breath, blows it out, and rocks back on his heels, fiddling with his hands. “I, um. I’m sorry.”

Jay’s jaw drops open. Which is probably an overdramatic move, all things considered, but unless he’s suddenly lost the ability to understand words, Kai just apologized to him.

Kai apologized. To him.

It’s not that Kai apologizing is some great big deal — Kai might have his pride, but he’s also an intuitive and good-hearted person who knows when he’s messed up. But to him?

Jay knows how he and Kai work. Kai knows how he and Jay work, and he’s breaking the rules. Because Kai and Jay don’t apologize to each other. Unless it’s some awkward expression of sympathy, they’ve never needed to. They fight dirty, aim for each other’s kneecaps, swear eternal vengeance and hatred at each other before storming off, then an hour later Jay’s bounding into Kai’s room to show him dumb meme videos and neither of them even remember what they were fighting about.

Acknowledging said fight with something as gushy as apologizing is not only useless since they both forget what they’re apologizing for anyways, but also useless because it’ll take too much time, and counterproductive on top, because it’ll most likely end in another fight about who apologized better. So for Kai to walk in and say sorry—

“Oh no, who did you kill?” Jay says, paling.

Kai spears him with a look, but it’s so pathetically watered-down and miserable that Jay forgets to glare back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay mutters. “I just—”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kai interrupts. He hesitates, then sighs. “But that’s fair. I — I was unfair. To you, back there. Like, really unfair, in a bad way, ‘cause you were shot and I know you meant well, but you—”

Kai gestures wildly with his hands, his stream of words cutting off. Jay is left to stare open-mouthed at him again. Babbling like this is Jay’s thing. Kai is breaking all the rules today, huh.

“I just…” Kai trails off, ducking his head. “I don’t like watching you guys get hurt. I don’t — I don’t like watching you get hurt. And I get scared, but it comes out angry, and then I make a mess of things so I’m — sorry. Really sorry, for biting your head off.”

He exhales, a little shaky, fingers balled up in tight fists as his head hangs low, refusing to meet Jay’s eyes. Something softens in Jay’s chest, like gooey melting butter or something else equally pathetic. But it’s rare that Kai vocalizes this stuff, despite the fact that Jay knows he cares, and it’s nice to hear it, so he figures he’s entitled to all the butter he wants.

Jay’s own gaze falters, and the something starts to twist. He bites his lip, tugging half-heartedly at the bandages around his arm.

“Well,” he pauses, thinking of the way his brain had shifted to autopilot when he’d watched Lloyd falter, the razor-sharp shard of terror that always splinters through him when any of their teammates come too close to the awful images of death left in his head. He swallows. “I guess I don’t really have any room to talk,” he murmurs. “Be pretty dumb if I blamed you for that.”

He’s preparing to sink back into his own well of self-pity and loathing, resigned to spending the next few hours until they check him out of the hospital replaying bad memories in his head, when Kai’s next to him all of the sudden, shoving him over on the hospital bed.

“Hey, hey, what’s the big idea—”

“Move, c’mon. You don’t need that much room, you’re a stick,” Kai grumbles, before grinning brightly in success as Jay makes him space. The contrast in expression is enough to startle Jay into silence, and Kai takes advantage. “I know that look. But you already got shot, so you gotta cheer up now.”

“So you’re forcing me into cheerfulness by stealing my hospital bed,” Jay scowls, but the sting is lost in the sudden surge of affection as Kai elbows his way on the bed with him, a steady warmth by his side.

“I’m gifting you my presence, you should be celebrating,” Kai huffs, as he pulls his phone out. “Now stop looking so sad and watch this video I got of a bunch’a geese chasing Zane at the park the other day.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Jay says, but he’s already snickering as he leans his head against Kai’s shoulder to get a better look.

He’s forgotten to tell Kai he forgives him, but like most things between them — Jay doesn’t really need to say it out loud.

#answered #ninjago #my fic #kai smith #jay walker #tumblr pls format right for once #Anonymous

[honeytea8]

Could I get Bucci gang reacting to a S/o who’s usually really sweet and hyper, and one day comes home super drunk/high off her ass and like she’s being really possessive over them? I.e, literally clinging to them like a koala and staring down anyone who tries to talk to them?

Absolutely! I loved writing this request btw 🤣💗 Super funny!

Bruno Bucciarati

Good lord, he will be worried. “Are you okay? What brought this on? What happened??”

When you let him know you’re just drunk or high, he’ll sigh and shake his head, and be resigned to taking care of you for the night so you don’t hurt yourself.

With you being suddenly clingy and possessive, he’ll be a bit surprised but will simply rub your back and try to get you to calm down

“Please y/n, no need to bite Leone, he’s only bringing your food like I asked.”

Expect him to hover around you like a mother hen so you don’t choke on your vomit!

You make him cuddle with you the entire night but he won’t get a wink of sleep, out of his worry for you.

And when you wake up in the morning expect a mild scolding for your behavior. Afterwards, he’ll treat you to breakfast so you can get some food in your system.

“Next time, bring a plus-one if you’re going out drinking. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, cara.”

Leone Abbacchio

Let’s be honest, he’s probably drunk with you!

But I also imagine his tolerance is way higher than yours. He’s somewhat of a professional at this lol

He’ll act like you being clingy is annoying the hell out of him and may shove you off once or twice. When you keep coming back he just gives up and takes it lmao

Will chuckle a bit when you growl at people to leave him alone (thinks he has a personal guard dog now smh)

“Yeah, you heard her. Now fuck off, Giovanna.”

Y’all are a drunk mess together because neither of you are in the right headspace to take care of anyone.

It’s a rough night for everyone else involved too. You and Leone are a handful!

You both pass out on the couch cuddled up in each other’s arms, maybe you drool a bit, maybe he snores and maybe Narancia has an incriminating photo you won’t see until your birthday 💀

Don Giorno Giovanna

Chances are if you come back high, he’ll be upset with you. His stance on drugs is firm and he’ll be alarmed, wanting to know what made you do it.

If you’re drunk, he will be mildly intrigued by your antics, and will take note of this different side of your personality.

Like Bruno he will be concerned for your well being but Gio considers you grown enough to know what you’re getting into. Mostly. So, he may not totally baby you.

He will indulge your clinginess, however, if you want to cuddle or hug him, he certainly won’t push you away. Giorno may even let you sit on his lap while he works.

Depending on the extent (or your behavior), he might be tempted to use Golden Experience on you to mitigate the effects of the alcohol lmao especially when you become really protective.

“Mista’s here to do his job, y/n, you can’t just order him to leave.” Look closely and you’ll catch him hiding a smirk.

Pannacotta Fugo

Will literally want to smack you upside the head, it takes everything in him not to do it though. But he will interrogate you!

“What were you thinking, y/n? Why didn’t you call me? This isn’t funny, you know!”

Fugo will try to take care of you but ultimately cannot handle you in this state. You’re already a hyperactive ball of energy when sober. The drunken version of you is like something straight out of a nightmare.

Fugo will eventually call for backup—anyone who can come help reign you in.

He’s definitely surprised when you start getting possessive and won’t leave him alone. Fugo will get a bit frustrated at how difficult you’re being.

“Y/n, Bucciarati is here to help, so sit still and stop glaring at him.”

It’s safe to say that Fugo doesn’t get any sleep either. He’s got his hands full with you, literally, since you're clinging to him the whole night. When you wake up with a hangover, he laughs as he pours you a cup of chamomile tea.

Retribution is so sweet.

Narancia Ghirga

Dude, Nara is positively losing it!

He’s got his phone out and ready to record/take pictures of you utterly making a fool of yourself.

At first, he doesn’t notice anything wrong, I mean, yeah you’re acting a bit loopy, but you’ve always been hyperactive and super fun to hang around, so that isn’t unusual.

It’ll take Bruno or Mista telling him that you are in fact drunk/high for him to realize and even then, it doesn’t quite hit him until you nearly smack Fugo for touching him.

He'll be a bit caught off guard because you’re normally so nice and sweet. You’ve never tried to hit any of them before.

“Woah there! Y/n, what’s gotten into you?” and “Better watch out Fugo, or else hehehe!” is what he’ll probably say. 

When you cling to Narancia, Narancia clings back. He loves cuddling and hugging you and won’t mind the clinginess at all; he can be that way too sometimes.

By the end, you and Nara are curled up in his bed after a night full of hilarity and chaos.

Guido Mista

I imagine Mista will take everything in stride, as long as you’re uninjured, of course. And so, he’ll probably make a joke about you “having all the fun” without him. 

He’ll pretty much be goofy and playful the entire time.

Mista will definitely try to get some food in you to help get you sober. Either he’ll whip something up or he’ll order take out. He also jokingly tries to feed you too.

He’s definitely willing to let you hang off him like a koala, in fact, he’ll offer you a piggyback ride and let you sit on his lap if you want.

Mista will get a bit concerned, though, when you almost yell at Abbacchio for telling him to move out of the way, but he’ll laugh it off in the end.

“Aww, babe, you look so cute defending me like that!” 

The next day will be hilarious, only because Mista will continuously bring up the cute/funny stuff you did while drunk. It’ll be one of his favorite stories to tell.

#giorno giovanna #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #guido mista #jojo headcanons #honeycanons #anon #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #guido mista x reader

[scatterpatter]

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

:)

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

:)

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

:)

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

#LONG POST #LONG LONG POST #Corren #FUCK YOU DREWSKI <3

[hold-my-hand-kuroo]

four seasons with akaashi

wow i think i’m starting to see a pattern of not knowing what i’m writing???

pairing: akaashi x reader

genre: fluff

i.

Spring comes with many firsts: the first year of high school, first cherry blossoms, and first love.

Akaashi is quiet, but not opposed to interaction. You realize this when you join Fukurodani’s volleyball club as the manager and watch in awe as the silent setter dealt with Boktuo in such a calm manner. You momentarily forget that the two of you are the same age. He’s calm, composed, and quick to put a stop to Bokuto’s antics; you’ve even heard him go through the wing spiker’s long list of weaknesses in passing. In short, you think Akaashi is amazing.

In fact, he’s so amazing that you find it hard to get closer to him although the two of you were in the same class. It’s not that you feel that he’s cold toward you, but it’s difficult to strike a conversation up with someone who seemed to dislike the loudness of Bokuto so much. You’d hate to disturb him, especially since he already has his hands full, but you can’t help catching your eyes landing on his figure from time to time.

Sometimes during classes, your eyes wander toward your right where Akaashi sits studiously, writing down careful notes from each and every lecture. You notice the light pen callus on the side of his ring finger and how he miraculously keeps his paper straight on his desk when he’s writing. He’ll never openly volunteer to answer or read, but whenever the teacher calls on him, his answers are correct, and you can’t help but feel soothed by his voice.

When you’re not looking at him, you don’t catch the stray glances that Akaashi also sends toward your way. He doesn’t understand why but opts to justify it with the fact that the two of you had volleyball in common, and that the volleyball jacket you wore frequently stood out specifically from the rest of the uniforms. Sometimes he’ll break into a smile when he sees that your papers end up shifting, tilted at a ridiculous angle when you’re concentrated on writing or when your brows furrow at a particularly tricky problem. He thinks it’s secretly amusing, endearing almost.

“I’ll help,” Akaashi offers quietly one day, reaching toward the basket carrying the bottles that you had just filled. It’s the first thing he has said to you ever, aside from the casual ‘hellos’ and ‘thanks’ he spared whenever you managed to make eye contact with him. It’s so foreign that you think you’ve done something wrong, but the fact that he’s merely a few inches apart from you makes your thoughts stop.

“Sorry if I was being slow,” you murmur finally, a little embarrassed, and hang your head low. Akaashi lets out a rather affronted noise that startles the both of you, and you turn to look at him, confused.

“No, I just thought it looked heavy,” he tries again, seeming to struggle with his words. Rather than following up, he lets the topic drop and takes a water bottle, not noticing Bokuto smiling rather smugly behind him.

“Don’t mind him, Y/N!” the owl-like boy laughs. “That’s just ‘Kaashi trying to be friends with you! He’s been mulling over it for days now! Whenever we’re in the changing rooms, he’s always like, ‘I wonder if Y/N dislikes me. We’re in the same class and club, but we don’t talk often’—“

“Bokuto, please shut up,” Akaashi says pointedly, trying to cover the taller boy’s mouth. He’s uncharacteristically flustered, and if you squinted, you could see the pink rising on his cheeks along with his frustrated furrowed brows. You almost laugh too; even the stoic setter could have his feathers ruffled sometimes, and in full honesty, it was such a refreshing sight to see.

“Actually,” you start shyly, chuckling slightly, “I was under the impression that I was disliked by you. I guess we both misunderstood.”

Akaashi shifts his attention from Bokuto to you, looking rather surprised. He’s sure that greeting you frequently would do well to break the ice, but he can’t believe that he gave you such a cold impression. It wasn’t lost on him that his silence usually came off unwelcoming, but he decides then and there that he should try harder. For what, he doesn’t really know.

“Isn’t that nice, ‘Kaashi? You made a friend!”

And so, Akaashi returns to scolding Bokuto about interrupting conversations and saying too much while, as promised, helping you hand out the bottles. The banter is lively and nice, the most emotion you’ve seen the setter express, and you think that you could get used to the chaos that is the volleyball club.

Spring is when the first seeds of love are planted, waiting to bloom.

ii.

Summer is hot with the buzzing of cicadas and the smell of sweat mixed with freshly-cut grass. It’s a little nauseating.

Hosting training camps were literal hell; in between making sure that there are enough clean towels, extra bottles, and an abundance of food, you find most of your summer dedicated to manager work. It’s torturous under the beating heat of the sun, and it makes you think about leaving the club forever. Of course, you don’t and never would, but the thought’s there.

Bokuto’s practically bouncing off the gym walls during the days leading up to the big event. For days on end, he’s talking about Nekoma-this or Nekoma-that, and by the time the team of stray cats actually arrives, you’re sure that you already know their names. You note that he’s the closest to the one with messy hair and a cackle louder than Bokuto’s yells. It’s overwhelming, especially for Akaashi who has to be there to calm Bokuto down, but also keep his spirits up for three days straight.

“Tired?” you ask during one of the breaks, handing him a bottle filled with chilled water and a plate of sliced watermelon. He accepts it graciously with a simple nod.

“With the way Bokuto keeps playing, we’re bound to be doing more diving drills,” he sighs. You giggle a little at the exasperation in his voice, but you still feel a little bad. Running around with towels was already tiring enough, so you can’t imagine working up a harder sweat under this relentless heat. “Are you busy?”

“Yeah,” you respond, stretching out your arms. “I thought setting up the sleeping area was bad, but cooking for a thousand volleyball players is absolutely the worst.”

He nods sympathetically and slides over on the stair step that he’s been sitting on, a silent invitation for you to take the spot next to him. You’re touched at his kindness and want nothing more than to accept the offer and just talk for hours on end to Akaashi, but you shake your head. There were things that needed to be done, and you’d hate for Yukie and Kaori to be the ones doing your share of the work. Akaashi seems to understand.

It’s a little disappointing to see so little of each other during the day even though the two of you were at the same location for the same reasons. To Akaashi, you’re a nice and fresh breeze that counters the loud arguments between Bokuto, Kuroo, and the delinquent-looking guy from Nekoma; you’re calm and can read him like an open book. With you around, he doesn’t feel the need to struggle over finding the proper words, and even when he does speak, it’s not a scolding. He’s at ease when you’re there with him.

Much to Akaashi’s luck and yours too, nighttime is when things calm down. You find him sitting quietly at the sidelines of the gym, making sure that Bokuto doesn’t break anything out of sheer excitement as he works on blocking with Kuroo. He’s working on his summer assignments, and it’s expected from him, but you’re quite amused at how even after a grueling day’s practice, he still finds it in himself to study. This time, you’re free and take the spot on the floor next to him.

“Mind if I join?” you ask, waving your math assignments around. He’s more than happy to have you there and nods not once, but twice. “Aren’t you tired?”

“If I don’t do a little bit every night, it piles up,” he mumbles, writing numbers neatly into his notebook. “It helps me go to sleep better, too.”

“I’m usually the night-before kind of person,” you laugh, opening up your booklet as well. “This is the first time in my life that I’ve done my summer work early.”

He hums, which is how he reacts when he’s surprised, you’ve learned. The two of you sit in silence, exchanging words once in a while for help. Akaashi’s way ahead of you, but you’re glad that he doesn’t find you too annoying when you ask to compare answers for the first few exercises that you’ve done. The yelling and crooning of Bokuto and Kuroo become white noise; you’re only fully aware of Akaashi right now and the fact that your shoulders are so close to touching. Five centimeters. Maybe six, but nothing more than that.

Even now, after months of getting to know him, you find your eyes glancing at him from time to time. You’re distracted, and you want to beat yourself up for it, but it’s almost instinctive. His side profile and his concentration are mesmerizing, his silence giving him an air of elegance. You’re so tempted to move closer, to fill those few centimeters and come into physical contact with the boy next to you, but you get flustered at the exact thought. The two of you were friends. Setter and manager. Classmates. Nothing more.

Unsurprisingly, your progress is poor, and you’re a little ashamed to say it’s because you were distracted by Akaashi. Even when the training camp is over, you still haven’t managed to make a large dent into your math work, and you’re ten times less motivated to continue it once you’re home and without Akaashi. It’s a blessing that the boy is an angel and is at your door during the last weekend of your well-deserved summer break.

“I was wondering if you needed help,” he says simply with a bag filled with cold drinks and ice cream in hand. He’s an angel. “I mean, it’s fine if you don’t-“

“No I do!” you answer quickly, heart beating fast. “I still have three more subjects to do, so I’m in a little trouble.”

Akaashi blinks at your outburst, and then breaks into one of his rare smiles. He lets out a laugh, a genuine, hearty laugh that you’ve never heard before, and you think you’ve finally discovered what angels singing sound like. You’re so mesmerized by Akaashi himself that it doesn’t exactly hit you that you’ve invited him into your room until much, much later, when he’s again, five or six centimeters away from you. Leaning on his elbow, he reaches over to your paper to point out errors or little tips, but they’re just noises to you. Lovely noises, but you don’t register a thing he’s saying. His mouth is moving, and you’re aware that you should be paying attention, but whether it’s this cursed heat or own nervousness that’s making you heat up and your heart throb like crazy, you’re mind is anywhere but on your work.

“Is something wrong, Y/N?” Akaashi asks, looking toward you.

“No,” you play off cooly, or as cooly as you could. “It’s just a little hot, don’t you think?”

“I have ice cream if you want,” he offers kindly, moving away from you and rustling through his bag. You let out a breath.

Summer is hot, and it’s when you realize that your little interest with the team’s setter is something a lot more than a small crush. It terrifies you.

iii.

Autumn brings in a refreshing chill that replaces summer, and before you know it, the leaves have turned into beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows.

Days have grown shorter, and by the time you leave the school, juggling between manager duties and the cultural festival, the sky outside is practically pitch-black. Walking home alone is a problem, which is why Akaashi takes it upon himself to walk you back home. Him and Bokuto, that is. Akaashi’s aware that he isn’t the scariest or strongest guy around, so he figures that with Bokuto’s large build and even larger voice would provide extra security.

The first time the two walk you home, Bokuto’s talking a mile a minute about how cool his class’s haunted house is coming out and making every effort to invite both you and Akaashi to check it out. Akaashi only comments about how he’ll be busy with his own class, even though you know well that he has free time in the afternoon. You stifle a giggle and nod, encouraging Bokuto to continue and hyping him up out of kindness.

It bothers Akaashi more than he thinks it would, and he almost feels silly for feeling so sour whenever Bokuto had your attention. It’s becoming a more and more frequent thing, he realizes that night. Even during practices, he preferred it when you were talking to just him rather than the other players, and it makes him disgusted with himself for being so selfish. He’s typically not the type of person to tape his fingers, but whenever you walk toward him and offer to help with tape in hand, he never turns you down.

There’s just something about the way your hand radiates a comforting warmth. When your fingers brush against his digits, carefully wrapping the white material around his damaged fingers, he finds it too quick, almost to the point of teasing. There are days where you’ll be so focused on the bandaging that you don’t notice the fondness in his eyes, scanning over your figure and wishing that your fingers would just intertwine with his. Akaashi wants something permanent, something longer than just brief encounters, and he secretly wishes that you’d give him all your attention.

But of course, he can’t say that to you. He find his wishes ugly. You’re Fukorodani’s manager, not his, and it was wrong of him to think otherwise. Still, he can’t help but feel a little bit bothered whenever Bokuto leaned a little too close to you whenever he spoke, shaking your shoulders or patting you on the back out of enthusiasm. Akaashi figures that he wouldn’t be bothered if you weren’t bothered, but it eats away at him when he doesn’t see you rejecting any of Bokuto’s energy.

“Let’s go,” Akaashi says to you one night. You look at him, tilting your head.

“But what about Bokuto?”

“Coach wanted to talk to him,” Akaashi informs before turning toward the door. He makes a motion, so you shrug and follow. The coach part isn’t a lie, but Akaashi leaves out the part about Bokuto nudging him in the ribs and telling him to spend some “quality alone-time” with you, since it’s too embarrassing.

The two of you walk home with you chatting about the day and how busy it is. Akaashi listens to your lovely voice, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing sound there is; it’s a stark contrast to Bokuto’s yelling, and he swears that he could listen to you talk about anything and still be emotionally invested. That being said, he’s not exactly paying that much attention, because as you continue rambling about how making the costumes for your class play is just too difficult, Akaashi becomes increasingly aware of the space between the two of you. Or rather, the lack thereof.

He estimates a few centimeters. Maybe three or four. He’s not sure, but he’s so tempted to reach for the same fingers that had danced around his countless of times during practice. He wants to feel your hand in his, and instinctively, he moves his hand closer to yours. He wonders if you’ve noticed too, if you’re just as aware of him, as he was of you. Maybe then, he’d feel more confident about his feelings.

Akaashi’s no fool. He knows that he’s in too deep when it came to you, but he also knows that those feelings were already there long before autumn started. Even during the summer, he’s curious to know if you noticed how he was sweating bullets when he entered your well-cooled room, or if you saw how often he found himself looking for you during the training camp. He wants to know if he catches your eye in any sort of way, and he needs the reassurance that in some sort of miraculous way, he makes a stronger impression on you than Bokuto does.

Autumn is when the leaves begin to wither and die, much like Akaashi’s self-confidence. He retracts his hand.

iv.

Winter is when the first snow falls.

Akaashi’s still walking you home, much to your pleasure, and although you’re not entirely sure why Bokuto has to stay after to see the coach so often now, you can’t really complain. It’s a little mean, and you do like Bokuto platonically, but you’re grateful for every second alone that you spend with Akaashi. You’re even more delighted when he becomes more involved with your conversations, speaking more and more. It’s like he finally opened up to you, and you’re ecstatic that you’ve become his confidant.

“It’s getting colder and colder, huh?” you say, bracing yourself as a particularly strong gust of wind blows. You grasp at the hood of your jacket to keep it from blowing off, but you’re still freezing nonetheless.

“Should we stop for hot tea?” Akaashi asks, frowning. “The convenience store is just around the corner.”

“Last one there has to treat!” you declare and break into a dash for the store. He follows behind, jogging rather slowly. You knew that in any circumstance, even if given a thirty minute handicap, Akaashi would probably be able to outrun you, so you know that he’s letting you win when he isn’t instantly right past you.

“I guess I’m treating,” he says, walking toward you when you reach the destination, and you roll your eyes. “Not happy?”

“You didn’t have to let me win, you know?” you chuckle as he opens the door for you. “I can well afford two teas instead of one.”

“But I wanted to treat you,” he answers simply. He grabs two bottles of lukewarm tea, his preferred brand and your favorite brand that he has committed to memory.

Even with the tea in your hand, you still find yourself freezing again the moment you step outside the shop. You try to hide it, but your shiver gives you away, and Akaashi is immediately back to frowning.

“We should get you home quickly,” he decides, picking up his pace. Now it’s your turn to frown; it’d only get colder from here, and if that meant rushed walks every night, you’re devastated that your time with Akaashi would be shortened. It’s silly, and you know that you should put your health first, but you wish that there could be another way. You lag a few steps behind him, hoping that he’d notice, and of course, he does.

He takes a peek behind his shoulder, and while still frowning, matches your pace. The two of you walk in the same comfortable silence that you’ve enjoyed for the past months, and you aren’t thinking about anything particular until you feel something warm against your hand that isn’t the tea. You almost stop breathing but choose to keep quiet as Akaashi’s hand maneuvers itself slowly around yours. He’s painfully deliberate about the entire thing, hesitating at each action and stopping every so often as if fighting with himself. Gently, he rests his finger in between yours, and the grip is so loose that you think your hand might slip out. He braces himself for you to fling your hand away, but when you don’t and instead look at him in shock and confusion, he’s out of words for a proper explanation.

“I thought your hands looked cold,” is the best he can manage, because even if you asked him what he thought he was doing, he doesn’t have a good answer. He’s not thinking straight; if he was, he would’ve asked for permission. “Sorry-“

“Yeah, they are,” you answer quietly, looking at the pavement and coming to a full stop. “Thanks.”

When Akaashi feels your fingers wrap around his hand, he almost thanks the weather for being the way it is, so that he can blame his reddening face on the cold. He gives you a light squeeze, which you return along with a smile from ear to ear and a flush just as severe as his. He feels a little dumb now for being jealous over Boktuo.

“Now we can walk slower, right?” you ask, looking shyly toward him, but are dismayed when he shakes his head.

“We still have to get you home, so you won’t catch a cold.” Always ever so responsible. “But I wouldn’t mind giving you a call after.”

“A really long call?”

“Yeah,” is all he says, smiling too. He’s not sure if he can put what love feels like into proper words, but he supposes that it’d be similar to the feeling of your hand wrapped around his, swinging happily as the two of you walk under the light snowfall.

Winter is cold, really cold, but you’ve found the perfect person to keep you warm.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #akaashi #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi suffering #reader insert

[zirkkun]

The Butterfly Effect (Part 1)

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The Butterfly Effect (Undertale Fanfic - overall given a AO3 M rating) Prologue

+ sans x gender neutral reader (first person POV from reader)

+ 2701 words, english

+ fluff, explaining past experience; conflict with adapting to a new environment

+ takes place in the Underground; barrier is not broken

+ part of a series I’ve been passively writing, no idea when I’ll update. only have written the first two parts but have a vagueness of the whole story outlined

+ AO3 link

It wasn't a reality I ever expected for myself, but it was happening nonetheless. The very tip of a temperate finger, silky smooth without even the texture of a fingerprint to taint it, brushed against my cheek. A smile couldn't help but curl at the corner of my lips, mirroring the permanent, toothy smile plastered on the face across from me. A chuckle surfaced from the both of us the second I reacted to his motion; I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. The hand against my cheek slid to the back of my neck, the thin fingers fitting perfectly between the bumps of my spine, and pulled me just that little bit more forward to where the space between us was sealed, my lips pressed against his toothy grin. There were no opposing lips to lock mine to, but I no longer minded. That wasn't what mattered. Staying at his side, feeling the tender touch of his otherwise boney and rough fingers against my skin, and cuddling with his head cozily tucked under my chin as he held me close... Intimacy didn't have to be defined by following social norms.

But of course, leave it to me for being the one strange enough to date a skeleton monster before figuring this out. I guess some people just need to find out through extreme examples, myself apparently included.

Nevertheless, I didn't worry too much about it anymore. I used to be more self conscious about it, more hatefully self aware. But between him and his brother, not to mention their friends, I grew more accustomed to the idea of living with monsters no differently than I would any of my fellow human beings. Sure, it was a bit hard to stumble through this at first, but it's not like I was alone in adjusting to this new realization or lifestyle. I was alongside the monster friends I had made, who were adjusting to me living with them in this underground kingdom they called home.

I don't remember how I fell down here. It's been far too long by now. Maybe it was an attempted suicide? I'm not sure. My life outside of this place as a whole is just a blur, but I do remember I wasn't in a place of happiness. Angry about broken societal systems, feeling unable to adjust to the way the world was built just after I finally figured out how to work with my own self, and losing hope for the bright future I was once promised as a child. It would be no surprise if that's why I wanted to leave, why I came to the place where humans were rumored to never return from. And, frankly, I can see why. I don't want to leave this place. Here, I'm free of so many of my fears and worries. I'm free of hatred, debt, betrayal, and confinement. I could do and be how I wanted. The friends and family I've gained while living here are far closer to me than any of the humans I can even vaguely remember from on the Surface. But I didn't always feel this way; it took a certain skeleton to truly convince me to stay.

Until then, I'd been desperate to leave. Afraid of where I'd ended up. There was no one of familiarity around me -- not a single human being in sight for as far as I could see. Monsters of great variety were the only living creatures down here, ones that I couldn't have thought of even for the most obscure of fantasy novels. I was scared, despite the kindness I had received. My fear peaked when I met a murderous buttercup, but slowly began to dip when my life had been saved by a kindly woman with thick fur and the complexion of an anthropomorphic goat. But it never really went away until much farther down the line. Not even through many puzzles, dates, and playful japes did I even really teeter off the edge into security.

It had been blisteringly hot; used to the moderate temperatures from above, the volcanic heat of the lava pool city was not something I could handle well. With the lights of the bright resort coming into view is when I saw him waiting, his stained and tattered old jacket truly obvious amongst the glam and glitz of the Hollywood-like building behind him. His smile was the same as it always was -- while at that time, I hadn't known, but it was false, hiding a pain only he carried then. And yet, even then, when I saw it, the stress hanging in my heart was lifted for just a brief moment. He'd asked me back then if I wanted to get lunch with him, since he was on break. Having yet to develop any feelings, I agreed without much thought whatsoever. "Great, thanks for treating me," he had joked, earning a laugh from me.

We hadn't actually ordered anything. Rather, we just stood across from each other on opposite ends of one of the decorated tables, talking for quite a long time. He told me of the time where he started making jokes to a woman through the door to the Ruins, who I could only assume was none other than the woman who had helped me when I fell down here. But his tone had drifted off when he told this story; his eye contact was lost, that false smile ever so faltering to his thoughts. I hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong before he answered that question for himself. "Y'know, kid, what drives you to leave this place? You've already got so much down here... What else do'ya need other than some good friends, good food, and some bad laughs?"

I thought about it for a moment. I think he was going to brush aside the topic after my initial response of silence, but I had stopped him, interjecting with my own thoughts. "I don't know," I had answered truthfully. "I don't know what's driving me. I don't remember anything good from where I came from... All I know is that I'm scared, and I want to go back to where things are familiar."

He didn't know how to respond when I said that. That moment is probably the most shocked and unprepared for something I have ever seen him in my entire life. His smile's falseness revealed its truth, slipping away as he stared at me completely dumbfounded of the words that had fallen from my mouth. It was as if he had been hoping to hear someone say that for years. As if he had been begging for someone to answer his question. That broken false smile slowly turned itself into something more genuine as he continued our conversation. "C'mon, now. There's no reason to be scared. Sure, there's a lotta folks who keep ravin' about how your SOUL will free us, but at the same time, you don't have to step forward and tempt the king if you don't wanna." He had shrugged, hands still buried deep into his jacket pockets. "But, I'm not the one livin' your life. You do you. I ain't gonna tell you what you should or shouldn't do, not now."

I had let his words soak into my mind, deeply considering the suggestion he was ensuing. I couldn't help but wonder: what was normal life down here? I'd somehow managed, with my frail self-worth and lack of bravery, to befriend many of those who lived here. There was next to no one alive in the Underground who still wanted to hand my extracted SOUL to the king. With that knowledge, it clicked: it was safer for me here than it was anywhere else in this world. The moment this thought grazed my mind, I was already saying, "Do you know anywhere I could stay?"

I'd thought he was going to cry when I said that. I still don't know why it struck him the way it did, just my asking if he knew someone I could stay with. But regardless, he let me stay with him and his brother.

For a while, I lived on their couch. It wasn't particularly the most comfortable of living conditions -- the old, raggy, stained, and ripping couch was awful compared to my previous, yet very-below-average mattress -- but even so, the skeletons' cozy house eventually became my home. I even began calling it that only a few weeks into living here. Something about living here just clicked. Even when I woke up to aggravated yelling, one brother telling the other to get up and go to work, I couldn't help but just giggle and relax in the environment. They were a chaotic pair, those two, but they were inexplicably generous and beyond kind. I couldn't help but consider them as family in such short time. And, well, in the case of one... I couldn't help but fall in love.

I hadn't meant to. But that's always how it goes, isn't it? No one ever means to fall in love. At first, actually, I hated it. I hated myself for it. The mere sight of him made me paranoid. He became confused as to why I would suddenly reject every moment he was so much as in the same room as me, but I couldn't answer. How could I? I was still adapting to the life of merely living without the presence of humans -- my internal morals screamed at every turn that this was nothing but wrong and disgusting. No one wants to hear that about themselves. Not to mention, these monsters were still getting used to me, as well. To me, they were the weird ones, but to the greater society, I was the odd one out. The anomaly. Why should, by any means, should this guy accept my feelings, when there's thousands of people of his own kind surrounding him?

I hadn't meant to confess to him ever, truly. Had it not been for that one night where a dark dream swallowed my sanity whole, I don't think I would have ever said a word to him. But, as it is, no one ever chooses to have the dreams they do, either.

I had woken with a yelp and a jolt. The vague snowy light from the window above me still shimmered, despite the hour; adjusting to the time within an underground cave had been a bit of an interesting challenge. But I digress: at this point, such things no longer bothered me. Now, the only thing on my mind was a horrifying nightmare, one terrible fear looping its imagery before my internal eyes over and over again without fail. I hadn't wanted to go to him about this, but I was nearly weeping with fear. Had I been able to, I may have gone to his brother instead to talk to, but unfortunately, this was one of the many nights he opted against sleeping and instead decided to work overtime. I had no other choice, if I wanted to get this horror off my chest, than to speak to him directly.

I had taken a deep breath once I reached his door, my hand shakily gripping the handle. At this point, even though we had been living in the same house for over a month or so, I hadn't even been inside his room. I didn't know if I was welcome. That stress, on top of the fear cycling through my eyes, caused more and more tears to form. I refused to let them fall, wiping them against my shirt as I pushed through and opened the door, allowing myself in.

"Sans?"

The soft whisper of his name had left my lips, each sound struggling to hold together in a cohesive word. I had taken another step in, repeating his name, more softly the second time. The room had been pitch black, and there was barely even any sound to indicate someone might be living in there. Just when I had thought he was maybe too deep into his sleep to hear me, I had begun to turn around, only to register the sound of my name being sleepily strung together in a deep reply. Within that second alone, the dam holding back my tears broke loose; I hadn't wanted it to, but somehow, I had lost all control. I ran to the source of his voice, and without even so much as a thought or hesitation, threw my arms around his figure sitting at the edge of his mattress. He had laughed at first, until I let slip why I came to him in the first place.

"I'm so glad you're alive... I'm so glad I can hear your voice. I don't know what I would have done if that dream was real..."

His laughter fell silent. His body felt stiff in my grip, refusing to move or react for a very long time. Then, as if some instinct washed over him, his whole demeanor changed to hold me at his side and hush away my tears, assuring me he was alive and well with what seemed akin to the sound of desperation lacing his voice. His hands, however small and thin, were careful to caress me gently, reassuringly rubbing my back and softly stroking my hair. Such tender intimacy I had never felt before, and I wasn't so sure as to why I was feeling it now. The guilt of my feelings subsided for just a brief moment as I had nudged my nose into his collarbone.

"I love you, Sans. If you died... I don't know what I would do."

His actions didn't stop. Rather, the soft huff of a cheery chuckle was released as he pulled me closer, leaning in just next to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered back to me. "Don't worry 'bout me dying on you. It won't happen. And I won't let you do go dyin' on me either, 'kay?"

I had laughed softly, joyfully accepting this response. After my tears began to cease, he still kept me close, and instead I fell asleep in his bed for the first time. In fact, from then onward, I never fell asleep on the couch again. Well, almost never.

His brother, while readily supporting us with open arms, couldn't bring himself to accept the idea of the two of us sharing a room for a fair amount of time. And just when he had started to grow accustomed to it, the two of us had to go and spoil it by... well, let's just say by being a bit too loud. His brother made me sleep on the couch that night. Needless to say, after that, anytime the two of us wanted to be a bit more intimate than usual, we didn't do it at home. Thankfully, his brother somehow wasn't concerned by us disappearing from the house every other night.

It took me, even still, quite a long time to adjust to the whole situation. It wasn't rainbows and sunshine after that. I still kept fighting myself against these feelings, despite being accepted and supported for the relationship I had involved myself in. That human societal morality still dug in my chest -- the society that I was no longer a part of. It was hard to convince myself that this was okay here. It was hard to convince myself that my actions were justified. It was hard to convince myself that everything was okay. It took a lot of bright smiles, soft cuddles, and genuine conversations to really allow myself to break through the old morals I no longer needed. It took me nearly six months to accept the fact that humans and monsters can live alongside each other without having to worry about their differences.

And now, I still remain here, right at his side. I could still feel the gentle touch of his fingertips against my skin as I drifted off to sleep by him for the thousandth time.

So I think you can imagine my fear when I woke up alone in a completely different house.

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #the butterfly effect #zircon writes #i do writing sometimes it's a thing #ill be posting both this and the next chapter btw

[foularcadebanana]

Lan Xichen: A Good Friend, A Better Uncle and A Helper of People

Day 8 Prompt for the Untamed Fall Fest 2020 is ‘Lan Xichen’. Before you all read the fic, though, let me just say that I love Lan Xichen as a character and a person, but I couldn’t think of a better POV for this particular trope. I see him as someone who always wants to help, but ends up somehow botching his attempts at helping people.

This is one of my favourite tropes to read in other fandoms but I have never seen it in this one. I’ve always loved exploring outsiders’ POVs and I knew I had to write it when this opportunity arose. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic. I might even extend it after the fest.

READ ON AO3

Lan Xichen thought of himself as a better than average friend. If anyone was ever in need of his help, then he liked to think that he helped them to the fullest of his abilities. Sometimes, some of his friends were stubborn enough to not ask for his help, even when he could clearly see that they were in desperate need of it.

So, he took it upon himself to help them, sometimes without consulting with them, especially if he thought that they would reject the offer immediately.

He also liked to think of himself as a good uncle. He had been like a substitute uncle-dad to Sizhui until Wangji had finished his punishment and stay in isolation. Even now, he loved to take care of Lan Sizhui and to look after him whenever he could. But it wasn’t just him, Lan Xichen though of himself as a good uncle in general, to all kids who were around his nephew’s age.

One such kid went by the name of Jin Ling, and the stubborn friend Lan Xichen was referring to would be Jiang Wanyin. Usually Lan Xichen minded his own business and was content with not interfering in other people’s personal lives, even if said person was his friend and a Sect Leader with a famously short temper. Especially if that was the case.

But it came to his attention that perhaps there were somethings he needed to help with, as a good friend and an even better uncle. He realised this during one sunny afternoon he was spending at Koi Tower with Jin Guangyao.

Jin Ling had just been dropped off by one of the Jiang disciples, not Jiang Wanyin, Lan Xichen had noticed. Jin Guangyao had gone inside inform all of the maids and servants of Jin Ling’s arrival. So, it was just Lan Xichen and Jin Ling sitting in the large throne room.

Now, Lan Xichen did not like to brag but he had a way of talking to children that could make them instantly feel a connection with him. It was that skill that he was sure would come in handy while talking to Jin Ling.

“Jin Ling,” Lan Xichen spoke up, making the tiny child look up and blink at him. “How was your visit to Lotus Pier?” Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say to him, because Jin Ling frowned and turned his back to Lan Xichen, muttering something under his breath grumpily. He folded his arms and legs.

Something was clearly bothering the child. Lan Xichen had to find out what it was, and he had to find out fast. “Is it Jiang Wanyin? Did he do something wrong?”

“Don’t talk about my jiujiu!” Jin Ling exclaimed, and Lan Xichen was taken aback by the unexpected burst of anger from the previously silent boy. Clearly something had gone wrong between Jin Ling and Jiang Wanyin. Perhaps they had gotten into an argument? But what would Jiang Wanyin possibly argue about with a boy so young?

Whatever it was, Jin Ling did not wish to speak about it, just like he did not wish to speak about his uncle. So, Lan Xichen let it go.

The next time he met Jin Ling was when he was in Yunmeng for a meeting with Sect Leader Jiang. His boat had been tied at one of the private docks in Lotus Pier and he had entered the vast fields where the training grounds were situated. He had been informed by the Jiang disciples that this was where Sect Leader Jiang was currently training Jin Ling.

Lan Xichen had heard various rumours and gossips that told of the strict training regime of the Jiang disciples. Jiang Wanyin was slowly gaining his reputation as the Sandu Shengshou, a terrifying and cold-hearted opponent that anybody would be unlucky to face. Hopefully, he was more caring and understanding with Jin Ling. A lot more caring and understanding.

After all, Jin Ling was just a child, and he had no parents. Jiang Wanyin should be able to tread carefully around him. Just as that thought passed through Lan Xichen’s head, he spotted the training grounds in the distance, and running closer and closer to him was a very upset Jin Ling.

As he neared Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen reached out to him, wanting to softly ask him what was wrong. But Jin Ling ran past him, crying and not sparing him a single glance. Lan Xichen was left watching Jin Ling’s back as it disappeared around the corner.

“Zewu-Jun,” Jiang Wanyin’s voice made Lan Xichen turn back to face him. “I apologise for making you wait. I was just finishing off Jin Ling’s training.”

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Xichen greeted him formally, bowing to him before continuing to speak. “I have no problem waiting for you. If I may be so forward as to ask, what was it that had Jin Ling so upset that he ran crying from the grounds.”

Lan Xichen watched as a  frown appeared on Jiang Wanyin’s face and his brows furrowed. “That boy,” Jiang Wanyin sighed, “I don’t know what to do with him, really.”

“Well, he is still a child. I would remember that while training him,” Lan Xichen advised. Jiang Wanyin blinked in response and nodded at him, as if he hadn’t been expecting Lan Xichen to tell him that. But someone had to tell him, and surely Lan Xichen could not expect Sect Leader Jiang’s disciples to point it out to him.

The meeting went by smoothly and just as Lan Xichen was about to take his leave, a knock on the door startled them both.

“Come in!” Jiang Wanyin ordered. The door opened slowly and behind the door stood Jin Ling. He hesitantly looked up at his uncle, whose demeanour did not change, nor did his expressions. Then he shifted his gaze to Lan Xichen, who smiled and waved to Jin Ling in a friendly manner.

Jin Ling hastily looked away, meeting Jiang Wanyin’s gaze again. The boy wasn’t crying anymore, and he did not seem as upset as he had earlier. Instead he seemed nervous, scared even, of something…or someone.

“Jiujiu,” he said, staring down at his knuckles which had whitened slightly due to his grip on his robes. He looked up at Jiang Wanyin. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

Jiang Wanyin sighed and leaned forward a little to pinch the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I’m going to accompany Zewu-Jun to his boat. I will talk to you when I get back.” Jiang Wanyin spoke neutrally, without a hint of emotion in his voice.

Lan Xichen wondered whether he should talk to his friend about it but decided against it. Maybe he would do it some other time, when they were both not overly stressed out from their meeting.

“There is no need to see me off, Sect Leader Jiang. I shall be accompanied by my disciples and a few of yours. You should stay here and speak to Jin Ling.”

Jiang Wanyin seemed surprised at the suggestion, but he did not protest. He simply nodded in agreement.

The third time Lan Xichen noticed that the need for his interferance was during a discussion conference at Koi Tower. Lan Xichen and his disciples from the Gusu Lan sect were sitting opposite Sect Leader Jiang and the Yunmeng Jiang sect disciples.

During one of the many breaks in between their discussion conference, Lan Xichen spotted Jin Ling making his way to Jiang Wanyin. Jin Ling was a mess, his hair was spread everywhere like a bird’s nest, his robes were splattered with mud and his face was covered in dirt. Lan Xichen saw anger spark in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes as soon as his gaze settled on Jin Ling.

He did not know what it was that Jin Ling said to Jiang Wanyin, but rage filled the Sect Leader’s expressions. Lan Xichen watched as Jiang Wanyin stood up abruptly and grabbed Jin Ling’s arm, a bit too roughly in Lan Xichen’s opinion, just to march out of the conference dragging poor Jin Ling along with him.

Lan Xichen would not lie, he had been incredibly tempted to follow them and see how Jiang Wanyin would react to the mess Jin Ling had made, no doubt, while playing with Little Fairy. The dog had probably become just as dirty as Jin Ling had, and Lan Xichen was sure they were both going to be receiving quite the lecture and punishment for it.

He had been tempted to interfere then, but he had not known how to do it.

He may think of Jiang Wanyin as a friend, but he was not sure about whether Jiang Wanyin shared his sentiments. It had been a long time since they had spoken about their personal lives to each other, although they were both aware of the events that took place in each other’s personal lives. Still, they chose to not speak about it, so speaking about it would surely not go over well.

The fourth time Lan Xichen saw them together, however, he was forced to interfere.

Wangji was out on a hunt with a few of the newly recruited Lan disciples, and Lan Xichen had used that opportunity to take Sizhui on a trip to Lotus Pier. It would help the both of them bond with Jin Ling and open a gateway to speak to Jiang Wanyin about possible uncle-nephew problems he might be facing. Hopefully, arriving at Lotus Pier unannounced would not be too big of a problem.

Lan Xichen and Lan Sizhui arrived on their swords. Sizhui was finally old enough to ride one. As soon as they stepped foot into Lotus Pier, they were greeted with the sounds of familiar voices shouting at each other. They both walked inside to see what the fuss was about and were just in time to watch Jiang Wanyin running through a corridor with Zidian flaring up and ready to whip someone.

“Wait right there, you brat! I will break both your legs, so you won’t be able to run away from me any longer!” Jiang Wanyin yelled. It was then that Lan Xichen noticed who he had been chasing after.

Jin Ling ran a few feet ahead of him, probably fearful of the whip in case it hit him during Jiang Wanyin’s ongoing temper tantrum.

“Don’t yell at me, Jiujiu. It was your fault!” Jin Ling responded and was grabbed by his uncle not a moment later.

“What did you just say to me?” Jiang Wanyin asked as though daring Jin Ling to repeat what he had said. Jin Ling pulled his hand away and huffed, holding his chin up high. He used his hands to dramatically push his robes to the side.

Lan Xichen noticed the way all of the Jiang disciples had gathered around them, probably discussing the punishment that would be doled out to Jin Ling and wishing they could do something. Well, luckily for them, Lan Xichen could do something about it.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Xichen called out. Jiang Wanyin seemed shocked to see him, and Lan Xichen realised again that he had arrived at Lotus Pier unannounced, which was highly irregular behaviour for a Lan.

“Zewu-Jun, I was not expecting you—.” Jiang Wanyin let go of Jin Ling and tried to scramble for a response as he bowed to Lan Xichen. Jin Ling mimicked the gesture and the greeting.

“It is alright, Jiang Wanyin. Sizhui and I were free today and I thought it would be great to introduce him to Jin Ling. Forgive me for not informing you in advance.” Lan Xichen replied with a smile.

Jiang Wanyin nodded his head, slightly taken aback due to the use of his rarely spoken courtesy name, especially by Lan Xichen, but he covered it up quickly. “Lan Xichen, it would be our pleasure to welcome you here as our guests.”

Lan Xichen’s smile widened as Jiang Wanyin led him to a large empty room where food lay served on two tables. No doubt it was for the four of them to eat since it was almost lunch time. The Jiang disciples were well-taught, Lan Xichen observed.

As they all sat down, Lan Xichen realised that it was the perfect moment to speak to Jiang Wanyin since Jin Ling was present as well. But how should he begin. He looked down at the food.

“In the beginning, Wangji used to have a lot of problems with Sizhui. He was not a baby when we found him, he was a young child, but still, he was a child. He had an intense fever when we found him and if Wangji had not asked for help, Sizhui may have never recovered.” Jiang Wanyin seemed to be listening to him, so Lan Xichen continued to speak.

“It might be difficult to take care of a baby and to pay attention to the growth of your sect. You might feel helpless and unbelievably angry. You may feel like ripping your hair out and pulling out Zidian or screaming and yelling, but the children deserve better than that. Jiang Wanyin, I want you to know that if you ever feel like that again, you can ask for my help.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded his head seriously. “I understand.” He met Lan Xichen’s eyes.

Lan Xichen stopped smiling for a moment to search Jiang Wanyin’s eyes. “Do you?” He questioned.

“Of course, I do,” Jiang Wanyin said, acting surprisingly calm. Lan Xichen had expected for him to burst out in screaming rage sometime during the talk but nothing of that sort had happened.

To his disbelief, it was Jin Ling who slammed his hand on the table and stood up. He glared at Lan Xichen with such palpable rage that Lan Xichen had to immediately look away.

“No, he doesn’t.” Jin Ling stated.

“A-Ling,” Jiang Wanyin said, but Jin Ling only spared him a single glance.

“You don’t understand what he’s trying to say, Jiujiu, but I do.” Jin Ling met Lan Xichen’s eyes again. “You’re wrong,” he said directly to him.

“Jin Ling, it’s alright. Lan Xichen is just telling me to take care of you and to look after you,” Jiang Wanyin said, trying to make Jin Ling sit down.

Their exchange made Lan Xichen grow confused. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Why were Jiang Wanyin’s and Jin Ling’s roles reversed? Why was Jin Ling so angry at Lan Xichen when he was only trying to help the boy?

“No, he isn’t! He’s trying to tell you that you’re not taking care of me or managing to look after me!” Jin Ling exclaimed, his voice growing immeasurably loud. He turned to Lan Xichen again. “Didn’t I tell you to never speak about my jiujiu in that way? Why does everyone keep bothering him? Just leave him alone. He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

Jin Ling looked as if he were about to stomp away but instead he cast a glance at his uncle and sat down, crossing his arms tightly.

Lan Xichen was stunned speechless and could not speak as Jiang Wanyin looked to him for clarification.

“Is that true?” Jiang Wanyin asked, and Lan Xichen swallowed the bile rising up his throat to finally answer.

“It just seemed to me as though the two of you did not have the best relationship,” Lan Xichen said.

“What made you think that?” Jiang Wanyin asked. Lan Xichen could hear the gnashing of Jin Ling’s teeth.

“Well, the first time I saw Jin Ling was when I was visiting Jin Guangyao and he refused to speak about his visit to Lotus Pier or to speak about you.” Lan Xichen said. “He seemed angry and grumpy about you and this place.”

“That was because I had wanted to stay in Lotus Pier for longer. I had begged Jiujiu to ask xiao-shushu if I could stay but he had refused to let me!” Jin Ling cried out. “I asked you not to speak about my jiujiu because I knew you wouldn’t have anything good to say about him, and I hate it when people talk behind my jiujiu’s back.”

“A-Ling.” Jiang Wanyin’s voice cracked. He seemed flustered, but Lan Xichen wasn’t deterred in the slightest. He would do what he came here to do, which was to confront Jiang Wanyin about his behaviour with Jin Ling.

“What about the time Jin Ling ran away from the training grounds upset and crying?” Lan Xichen questioned, still addressing Jiang Wanyin.

“I was upset because I sucked at training and everything hurt. Jiujiu tried to reassure me, but I thought that I was the worst and that I would never get better at cultivation, that I could never fight monsters like my parents had. I tried to shoot arrows even though Jiujiu had warned me not to and I almost hit him in the head. Jiujiu could have been seriously hurt because of me. That’s why I came to apologise afterwards.”

Oh. “Then what about that time you entered the discussion conference at Koi Tower looking like a mess, and your uncle was absolutely furious at you?” Lan Xichen spoke to Jin Ling now. Jiang Wanyin was completely quiet, choosing not to utter a word.

Jin Ling snorted in response. “Jiujiu wasn’t furious at me, he was furious at the disciples I had fought with because they had been talking about my parents behind my back! Jiujiu put medicine on all of my wounds himself and then he took care of me and Little Fairy, too.”

“What about today, then?” Lan Xichen finally asked.

“What about today?” Jin Ling threw back.

“Your uncle ran behind you with Zidian, promising to break your legs,” Lan Xichen reminded him.

“So? I deserved it. I pushed him into the lake while he had been teaching his disciples. I disrupted his lesson. Besides, Jiujiu didn’t mean any of it. He wasn’t serious. We were just having fun. Even if we hadn’t been having fun though, how was it any of your business?”

“A-Ling.” Jiang Wanyin spoke up again.

But Jin Ling didn’t listen to him. “I don’t care about the fact that I have to respect my elders, Jiujiu, I think Zewu-Jun should leave.”

“Jiang Wanyin, I—”

“You heard my nephew, Lan Xichen. I think you should leave.” Lan Xichen was taken aback by the bluntness of both the uncle and the nephew, and the blankness of Jiang Wanyin’s expressions.

Lan Xichen cleared his throat and said, “I think I have overstayed my welcome here, and I apologise for having overstepped my boundaries. I was merely concerned—”

“You don’t need to be concerned for me. I already have a jiujiu who shows more concern for me than he needs to, a shushu who could show concern if he needed to, and I can take care of myself too.” Jin Ling interrupted.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Jin Ling asked this time.

“A-Ling!” Jiang Wanyin exclaimed. Jin Ling looked away and clamped his mouth shut.

“Zewu-Jun, you should really leave. I insist.” Jiang Wanyin said pressing his lips together.

Lan Xichen stood up walking away with Sizhui trailing behind him. He did not understand the weird relationship Jiang Wanyin had with Jin Ling.

Jin Ling called him his ‘jiujiu’ despite Jiang Wanyin having looked after him and raised him when no one else had wanted to take that responsibility. He was practically Jin Ling’s parent. Even Lan Sizhui called Wangji his dad.

Perhaps Lan Xichen was not meant to understand their relationship. It was theirs to understand and keep, and maybe it was better for Lan Xichen to not interfere in matters that were not his own. He should really just mind his own business.

As Lan Xichen passed the disciples that had gathered around to watch Jiang Wanyin chase Jin Ling. He heard them talking to each other.

“Do you think we should ask the physician to take a look at Sect Leader Jiang? I think he might have hit his head on something.”

“If not a concussion, then he’ll surely have caught a cold from wearing all of that wet clothing.”

Lan Xichen truly had been wrong about everything concerning Jiang Wanyin and his nephew. Maybe he wasn’t as great a friend or an uncle-dad as he thought he was.

#foularcadebanana #yesimawriter on ao3 #untamed fall fest #untamed fall fest 2020 #the untamed fanfic #the untamed #mdzs fanfic #mdzs #lan xichen #jiang cheng #jin ling #uncle-nephew relationship #misunderstandings #lan xichen means well #he just wants to help #meddling lan xichen #grumpy jin ling #angry jin ling #confused jiang cheng #soft uncle jiang cheng

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Things Left Unsaid Part 2

Part 1

Pairing(s): Gaius Augustine x MC; Jax Matsuo x MC (Danielle Lee)

Summary: Fifteen years after reuniting in Central Park, Gaius returns, and Danielle must make a decision.

Author’s Note: It took me a while, but I’ve finally managed to write the second part to this. I have no idea what on earth this is, so I apologize for that. If there are any typos, I’m sorry. Thank you to anyone who reads!

Word Count: ~2K

----------

“You are not happy with him, so why do you stay?”

The question echoed in her head as Danielle Lee sat at her kitchen table, twirling her wedding band around her finger. She tried to ignore the tears that gathered in her eyes, but it was impossible. Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

And she was absolutely petrified.

For sixty-five years, she had been almost completely faithful to Jax. For sixty-five years, she had told herself that this was where she was meant to be. For sixty-five years, she tried to ignore the longing buried deep inside.

But now she could no longer run from the truth.

Gaius Augustine had returned once again, and this time he gave her a choice. Remain here, in New York, with her mundane life, or run away with him.

“Danielle?”

She tensed at the sound of Jax’s voice, knowing what she had to do. For too long, she had ignored her heart. The love she had for Jax had kept her from leaving, but she couldn’t do it anymore.

It was time to go.

“What’s wrong?” Jax asked when she looked up at him. His eyebrows furrowed and he moved closer, taking her hands in his. “Are you okay?”

Danielle took a shaky breath, picturing another man. Somewhere close by, Gaius was waiting for her. And she had made the choice to go with him.

“We need to talk,” she said, refusing to meet Jax’s eyes. “There’s something that I—I need to do something.”

Jax took a seat beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Of course. What is it?”

Danielle tried not to flinch at his touch. For a moment, they sat in silence. She thought of all the time they’d shared together, and wondered how those memories would ever fade away. A part of her wasn’t sure she wanted them to.

Finally, after spending several minutes gathering up the courage to speak, she looked her husband in the eyes. “I need to go.”

Silence. The silence that followed was deafening. Words didn’t even seem necessary for her to know that this would end in tears, yelling, chaos.

“Okay.” Jax’s response surprised her, and Danielle tried to keep her composure.

She cleared her throat, blinking back the tears. “That’s it? You’re not mad?”

“I can’t force you to stay here.” His voice cracked, and the pain became clear. “You haven’t seemed happy for a long time.”

Guilt that had been with her for the past fifteen years finally came crashing down on her, and Danielle found herself speaking before she took the time to think. “Gaius is back.”

Jax’s knuckles popped white against his skin as he clenched his hands in fists. “What?”

Danielle regretted saying anything. She gulped, remembering the pain her husband had experienced when he watched Takeshi die. And now she was leaving him for the man who had killed his mentor. Some things were unforgivable, and she knew that this was one of them.

When their eyes met, she knew that words weren’t needed. He knew. Jax knew why she was leaving.

“You’re leaving with him.” It wasn’t a question.

She averted her eyes, staring at the wedding band on her finger. “I’m sorry.”

Instead of answering, Jax stood from his chair and started to leave the room. His shoulders were tense, the rigidity of his posture saying far more than words ever could.

“Jax, wait.”

He paused, turning his head to the side. From this angle, she could see that he had his jaw clenched.

Trembling, Danielle got to her feet and crossed the room to him. She hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face her. Pain was written across his face when they faced each other.

“I still love you. I’ll always love you. I just—”

“Have feelings for him?” Anger flickered in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. Jax sighed, taking her face in his hands. “How long have you wanted to leave?”

Some part of her had always felt trapped. Even before Gaius returned that day, she’d imagined leaving New York. Danielle wanted to see the world, to travel around, seeing everything that she could. She had all the time in the world.

“It wasn’t until he came back that I decided that it was what I wanted.” After Gaius had left again the first time fifteen years earlier, she’d been able to forget about what happened that night. Her life had returned to normal. Almost.

But then he returned. When Gaius had followed her while she was walking home three nights ago, he’d offered her the chance to go with him. To leave for Europe, where the two of them could travel together and work on ridding the world of some evil. The offer was too tempting to pass up.

She’d maintained her distance that night. When Danielle decided to stay faithful to Jax as long as they were together, she’d meant it. The night in Central Park had been one mistake that she could never take back.

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Hope shone in Jax’s eyes, a little spark that she knew he wanted her to feed.

Danielle sighed, forcing herself to nod. “Yes.”

Tears burned her eyes when she cupped his face in her hands and gave him one last kiss. Neither of them spoke for a long time, resting their foreheads together. Sixty-five years of marriage…gone in an instant.

“I love you,” Danielle whispered. And she meant it. Just as a part of her had always wondered about Gaius, a part of her would always love Jax. He had been the first person she ever truly loved, and that would never change.

Jax’s throat bobbed, and he took a shaky breath. “I love you, too.”

After one last kiss, the two of them pulled apart.

Before she had time to change her mind, Danielle turned away, waiting to feel Jax leave the room before she let out a breath. Her shoulders dropped, and the tears flowed freely.

There was nothing left for her here. Any clothes would just remind her of her past life, and it would be easier to travel light. There was just one thing left to do.

Danielle studied the ring that had barely left her finger for more than half a century. This was it. She couldn’t bring it with her. A sharp pain stabbed her heart as she pulled the band off and set it on the table, staring at it for a second before turning to leave the room.

Central Park seemed like the best place to go, so she walked along the empty streets for a while, listening to the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. It seemed fitting that a storm was brewing. She’d never felt more at war with herself.

“It was the right thing to do,” she mumbled, unused to the absence of the weight of her wedding band.

This was the right thing. She’d wanted this for a while now. Gaius’ appearance had only confirmed what she’d wanted for years.

Danielle kept repeating that to herself for the entire walk, as if saying it enough would make it better. She tried her best to hold back tears when thoughts of how the others would react entered her mind. No one would be happy. For all she knew, choosing to go with Gaius would mark her as an enemy too.

Rain started to fall as she approached the bench where she’d first encountered Gaius again fifteen years earlier. Little had changed with time, the park looking the same as it always had.

“I assume you have made your decision?” The voice echoed in the night, and were it not for her vampire abilities, she wouldn’t hear it over the sound of the rainfall.

“Yes,” she replied, slowly turning around to take in the face she’d spent a long time dreaming of.

The connection they shared had never gone away. If anything, their brief reunion had made it stronger. For over a decade, Danielle had felt Gaius’ presence, no matter how far away. She’d known he would return when the voice got louder.

For a moment, the two of them stood several feet apart and watched the other. She had chosen him over Jax. That decision alone said more than words ever would, and yet…

“How did he take the news?” Gaius hesitated before he took a step forward, searching her face for the answer.

Danielle took a deep breath, pressing her hands against the sides of her thighs to stop them from shaking. “Surprisingly well.” She noticed the way Gaius glanced down at her left hand, at the space where a wedding ring had once been. “He said that he can’t force me to stay.”

“And how are you feeling?”

She sighed, not sure whether to feel guilty or relieved about the situation. The idea of finally leaving, of getting to travel around the world and be free was wonderful, but the thought of leaving the life she’d spent over half a century creating left her feeling scared.

Danielle finally gathered up the courage to look Gaius in the eyes. “Conflicted.”

To her surprise, he smiled and nodded. “I understand.”

“I still love him.” She felt like it had to be said. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.”

Gaius moved even closer, close enough that he could touch her. “You can love more than one person.”

He was so close that she found it hard to breathe. Guilt about not feeling as horrible as she knew she should tugged at her conscience. Danielle had never seen herself leaving Jax, and yet here she was.

“I—” She fumbled over her words, feeling there was no way to describe what she felt.

It had been less than hour since she said goodbye to Jax, but she already felt as though they’d been separated for far longer. Every rational part of her screamed that this was wrong, that by doing this she was making herself into a villain. But she didn’t care.

She wanted to be free.

Instead of speaking, Danielle pulled Gaius to her, tasting the rain on his skin as she kissed him. It was an accident. None of this was supposed to happen.

“Danielle—” Gaius groaned when she kissed him harder, holding him against her without the restraint she’d tried to have during their first kiss.

“Don’t speak,” she said against his lips, knowing that if she took the time to think rationally, the moment of bravery would crumble.

They were the only ones in the park. The storm overhead continued in full force, drenching them both in water.

Danielle ran her fingers across Gaius’ cheeks, kissing him without hesitation. The guilt started to dissolve when she was in his arms, somehow knowing that, despite everything, this was the way things were always meant to be.

When they finally pulled away, the storm had started to calm. A smile slowly spread across Danielle’s lips as she looked up at Gaius. “So, where are we going?”

“You tell me. I leave the choice up to you.” He tucked some hair behind her ear, wiping away the mascara smudged under her eyes. “We have all the time in the world.”

Danielle briefly thought of Jax, and how he deserved so much better. She had tried her hardest to ignore the way she felt about Gaius, and had succeeded, until he came back.

A simple life had never been her thing.

After defeating Rheya, it had been nice to have peace and quiet, but Danielle wanted a life of adventure. She wanted to see the world, to fight against the creatures of darkness. Her friends would never understand that. They’d already had their fair share of adventure.

Only Gaius could give her the journey she needed. Only Gaius seemed to understand that she felt trapped.

“We can figure it out as we go,” she said, leaning forward to brush her lips against his.

Perhaps she was a horrible person who deserved whatever fate had in store for her, but she no longer cared. She wanted Gaius Augustine, and would gladly take the consequences that came with it. Until the very end.

#choices: stories you play #choices fanfiction #gaius augustine #gaius x mc #gaius augustine x mc #bloodbound

[secondhand-trash]

Good People

@shinsoubowl​ Week Day 4 (Prompt: Hero+Villain)

A/N: Out of all seven days, this is probably the hardest to write for me but I did succeed in slipping a Fleabag reference in there again so it’s all good. I’m just hoping and praying that this turns out ok.

(Also, Tumblr has been acting strange and not letting me add more than 5 tags recently so the exposure is greatly limited and I'm petty about things like that because I do work hard on everything I put out so reblogs are greatly appreciated qwq)

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x villain!reader

Description: You had lost your hope that there were genuinely good people in the world a long time ago. So no, just because this hero was nice and didn’t want to fight you could not convince you anything.

Word count: 3125

Playlist:

Me//The 1975

Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked//Cage The Elephant

Something Has to Change//The Japanese House

-

If you got to start all over again, you would have never gone down this path in the first place.

It started off as minor shoplifting in convenient stores when you were a kid. You knew that it was wrong, but the wall of candy was too tempting and there was no way you could ask you parents for money when they were struggling to put food on the table each day. Your father got into heavy debt after his business partner took all of the company’s assets and disappeared from the surface of earth one day. The salary he earned was barely enough to keep the family alive, spending a large portion of it to pay off the loans.

You never got caught, not even once, and it only prompted you to keep going. You slowly moved onto pickpocketing and stealing cash from registers when the shop keeper wasn’t looking. It made you even more money but it also started forming this empty pit of guilt at the back of your head and yet you never stopped.

By then, you father had entered eternal slumber and something about the sigh of relieve from your mother when you handed her the cash pushed you to keep going back. There were times when she looked like she wanted to say something before you sneaked out of the house ‘for work’ but she never said anything, silently pulling back the hand that attempted to reach for her child.

Then there came the time when snooping around for inattentive by passers could no longer fulfill that urge in you.

Hiding in a dark alley, you gathered your breath as the security guards of the shop you just broke into ran past the spot you were hiding at. Checking that there was no one around, you pulled out that heavy gold bracelet from the pocket of your belt. You did not need the price tag on the display to see that you could make good money out of it. Inspecting it carefully under the flickering street light, you sighed in pity that the intricate carving on the gold would soon be gone when you handed it to the dealer.

Sometimes, you were afraid that you had started to enjoy what you were doing instead of treating it as nothing but a line of work like you convinced yourself to be.

“Pretty valuable stuff you got there but I’m almost certain that it’s not yours. Mind if I put it back to where it belong?”

You immediately went into high alert and shoved the bracelet back into your pocket when you heard the voice from above your head. Snapping up, you saw a man with a black mask looking down on you from the lamp post.

Great, a pro-hero.

A long piece of fabric extended towards you and you jumped to deck from the attack. You had heard of this particular pro from other people of your kind. He was new to the scene, making quite a name for himself with his skillful tactics and overpowering quirk.

“You’re not going to answer me? How rude.” the man clicked his tongue as he leaped from where he stood and made another attempt at trapping you with his scarf. You pursed your lips tight, avoiding even the smallest of responses towards the man. You remembered what they told you about him, one word and he had you under control, and you had been struggling on this path you went down for far too long to be captured now.

A villain, that’s what they called you, to which you only scoffed. Perhaps you were a villain, but if you were a villain, what were the people who turned you to this side of the moral compass? Were they good people? And this hero who was here to give you the punishment the society thought you deserved, was he a good person under that mask and the costume?

People did not overrate his ability in combat. You were having a rough time fending him off while resisting the possibility of a slip of the mouth, but you could tell that he was new to this. He knew what he was doing but none of his punches were lethal. He was holding back.

In a perfect world, he would be respected for having mercy on you, the villain. But the world was not perfect and most of the time, it was far from being good. Hesitating could be a great flaw.

Spotting one of the hero’s weakness in defense, you took the chance land a punch right at his stomach, forcing him to bend down no matter how fast he could react under physical reflectiveness. By the time he recovered, you had already gone out of his sight, leaving him alone in the dim alley.

Sliding in through the unlocked window, you frowned at how the light of the living room was still on. Living room, you silently laughed in bitterness at the thought, like you weren’t living in a tiny flat that was split into rooms by thin curtains hanging on the ceiling. “Mom? Why haven’t you gone to sleep? I told you that there’s no need to wait for me.”

The woman on the couch was already drifting into sleep when you called for her. You knew that she hadn’t been feeling well recently and you had tried to tell her to get more rest but it seemed that you got your stubbornness from her.

“I can’t sleep without knowing that you got home safely,” she smiled and you could see the wrinkles at the end of her eyes. When did those start to appear? For as long as you could remember, there wasn’t a time when there weren’t any lines on her forehead, an effect of furrowing her eyebrows together too often. “How was work?”

You felt bad for lying to her but you could not say it out loud. You could not say it to her face that her child was a villain who stole things for a living, even when you were almost certain that she already knew. After all, mothers know best.

“It went alright,” you tried to force a nonchalant smile even when your stomach was twisting together in guilt and lifted the curtain to where you slept, “I’ll just go to bed now. You should get some rest too, you’re looking really pale.”

You had long accepted the fact that you were no perfect human being and most of the time, you were certain that you could not even touch the line of being good, but lying to your mother would never stop making you feel like the worst person alive.

You kept running into the same pro-hero who you met in the alleyway from that night onwards. Where ever you were, he was there waiting already. It was starting to get tiresome and rather creepy, if you would be so bold to say.

For the first few days, a fight would inevitably break out between the two of you and it always ended the same way with you escaping by a hitch. Then he stopped trying to capture you through battling and it was worse, because he started talking to you.

If fighting him was a pain in the ass, than this new method of his was straight up torture.

It started off as him trying to irritate you into responding with jabs or insults but he soon realised that it was not enough to get you to talk as you would just rolled your eyes and threw punches at him. Looking back, you wished it had stayed that way because he somehow managed to make the whole thing even more annoying. He would block your only route of escape and started talking to you like he was just talking to a friend about his day. There were times when you were so baffled by the sheer stupidity of the whole thing that you almost gave in and yelled at him. Needless to say, it took a lot of self-control to bite your tongue when all you wanted to do was get him to shut up.

Still, you would at least tried to hear what he had to say each time before finding a way out. It would be a lie if you say that there wasn’t something stupidly entertaining about the hero rambling on about the random things that happened in his life when he could be fighting you instead. You almost anticipated him to show up each night and just started talking when you never gave him any responses other than exaggerated facial expressions at all.

If he wasn’t here to arrest you, you might actually take a liking towards that man.

You already had one leg hanging off the barricade as you were about to make a jump to the ground from the balcony when the hero showed up tonight. You stopped and turned to look behind you where the hero landed, raising a brow towards him.

“Sorry that I’m a bit later than usual, had to chase down this other guy who was robbing a bank.” he laughed when your eyebrow only arched at his statement, “Don’t look so shocked, you’re not the only one I’m trying to capture.”

You nodded in amusement. You weren’t sure when this whole process felt like less of a competition to see who break first and more like two people genuinely hanging out. “Although it really doesn’t feel like I’m even trying to capture you anymore.”

You grinned and tilted your head. You would love to believe that it was the case and he was just here night after night because he wanted to talk to you but it was never wrong to stay alerted. “Can you just say something? It feels like I’m talking to myself here! I promise I won’t use my quirk on you.” the hero pleaded but you doubted its sincerity due to the smirk on his face and you shook your head, the smile never left your face. “Come on! I know you want to!”

He wasn’t wrong, you did want to but your survival instinct override this childish desire. You were a villain and he was a pro-hero, you two weren’t meant to be friends and simply wouldn’t happen no matter how much you wanted to talk to him like normal people do.

Smirking, you turned your back to him and was about to leap down when his voice caught you by surprise.

“Fuck you, then.”

You snapped back, entertained beyond measure by his response. You had to purse your lips to prevent the laughter that was threatening to escape and gave him a look as in to ask him, “Really?”

When you lie on your mattress with your eyes closed, it was the amused glimmer in the hero’s purple eyes that kept showing up in your head.

You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night.

You shouldn’t get attached, it’s dangerous, but you had become way too fond of the strange hero who talked to you every night at this point to back out. The two of you were standing on the balcony where you would for sure past by each night. Leaning against the fence, you put your chin on your hand with one elbow supporting it on the fence as the hero standing next to you rambled on.

You wondered if you two would have become friends if the circumstances were different. It was a stupid move that could wash all your hard word down the drain but at that point, you didn’t care. This had been bugging you since you met this guy and despite better judgment, you weren’t really sure how long you could keep this in.

“Why are you still here talking to me?” the hero’s eyes widened as he heard your voice for the first time. “You’re a pro-hero, I’m a villain. You’re supposed to fight me, not hang out with me.”

He paused for a while, “I don’t think you’re like other villains.”

You snorted in bafflement and didn’t say another word. He sighed, seeing that you didn’t trust him enough to actually respond to him. “I’ve been keeping a record of what you did since I met you that day. You never steal from small businesses, only big cooperation or rich people.”

“And that’s how you decided that I’m not like other villains?” you replied, basically taking a leap of faith to see if this person you had been talking to for the past weeks was actually as decent as you hoped him to be. A rush of relieve washed through you when you could feel that your body was still under your own control.

“You’re not doing it just to cause chaos or hurt people like a lot of other villains and, I don’t know, I guess there are chances that you might be a good person.” he said with an earnest that left you unable to react. A good person. How long had it been since someone called you that? “I saw the way you fight, put it to good use and you might actually save the world-”

“Why do I want to save the world when the world never saved me?” you turned to look at him in the eyes and felt yourself stiffen at the look in his eyes. He would not get it, you bitterly thought to yourself. “I did not choose to be like this but when no one came to save you, you might just be isolated for long enough to become a villain.”

This was a waste of time, ‘villains’ weren’t supposed to confide in heroes and it was naive of you to even think that he would understand. Climbing over the fence, you stared at the hero before you escaped into the darkness.

“The world isn’t good. Trust me, I’m a villain.”

You were sure that it was the universe playing a joke on you to prove just how bad it could be when you woke up the next morning to find your mother collapsed on the ground. The sight was something out of your worst nightmare and you could not breath properly until you held her wrist to sense that she was still alive. She was burning with a fever so high in temperature that you were starting to fear that the day you were truly on your own would come sooner than you detested.

You tried everything you know, every medicine you could get your hands on but there was no use. She was still unable to even move when the night arrived and you were worried sick. It was the first time that you cursed yourself for having a lifestyle that was everything but legal. You could not take her to the doctors because hospitals keep record on everything and it would not take them a lot of time to find out what exactly you were up to. If this was about you, then you would just take the risk and turn to somewhere shady but it was your mother, and you would rather trade your soul than to put her in harm.

You knew what you should do the moment you stepped out of your house that night.

Shinsou was almost unsure if you would show up. You seemed to be quite pissed off last night and he wasn’t sure if you would still want to see him after that. It started off as an attempt to lure you into activating his quirk by accident but he had come to quite enjoy those late night conversations. He immediately perked up when you climbed onto the balcony.

You walked straight up to the hero and grabbed the scarf circled around his neck. His body tensed up at your sudden action but his mouth hang agape in shock when he saw you took it and wrapped it around your own wrist.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” you took a deep, shaky breath and said, “you’re gonna hand me over to the police and tell them that you captured me.”

“What? Wait a sec-”

“I’ll tell you where I hide everything I’ve ever stolen,” you sounded so calm it almost frightened him, “there’s a woman there, a really sick one. I don’t know how but please god get her somewhere better than that-”

“No.”

You stopped when you heard him. “What?” you yelled in disbelieve. “I am making your job easier for you, what do you mean ‘no’?”

“You’re not making any sense! Is something going on?”

“Yes!” you threw your hands in the air. You could feel tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you screamed in frustration, “My mother is dying because I’m a fucking villain and I can’t get her any help!”

“And your way out is to hand yourself in?”

“Well I don’t know what else I can do and if there’s someone who have to profit off of my misery I want it to be you because you talked to me and made me laugh and even if you might not turn out to be a good as I think you might be but at least you are a decent person and a decent person is fucking hard to find.” you said it all in one breath and gasped for air as you gathered your breath. “So please, I beg of you, just help me out and do as I say.”

Shinsou wasn’t sure what he should do but you looked like you were about to break down and that hurt him way more than it should. Although his movements were a bit stiff, he sighed in relieve when you didn’t protest as he wrapped his arms around you. “Told you, you are a good person.”

You sniffled and mumbled against his shoulder, “You have really low standard for ‘good’.”

“Let me help you,” he pulled away and wiped a thumb one your cheek to dry the tear that ran down your face, “I won’t hand you over but I’ll help you if you let me. That’s what heroes are supposed to do, right? We help people.”

You let out a broken laugh. You weren’t sure why you believed him but that look in his eyes was all too convincing. And for the first time in a really long while, you truly believed that perhaps there were good people in this not-so-good world after all.

No one had ever saved you, not until Shinsou Hitoshi talked his way into your life.

#shinsoubowl #shinsoubowl week 2019 #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shinsou imagine

[sevendeadlyheadcanons]

Hello! May I request how the sins would react if their s/o was a thief? If that’s okay,,

sure thing! I’m really for the long wait!

Meliodas

-He’d probably scold them when he first finds out, with stealing is bad and yada yada

-but he’s quite glad they’re not a goody two-shoes though. He thinks that’d be really boring (he sort of needs a goody two shoes to keep him in check tho)

-he always pulls them away when they’re tempted to steal things

-he will physically wrestle them if they steal his stuff

Diane

-She always tries to convince them that stealing is wrong!!!

-if she finds out that they’ve stolen something while they’re out she’ll give them the cold shoulder until they put it back

-it’s literally her goal to correct their ways and make them not steal anymore

-If they have a tragic reason (like a poor childhood) then she’ll remind them that it’s not like that anymore and that she can pay for them if need be

Ban

-he nods it off like ‘me too’

-they always argue over who’s the better theif

-their dates consist of stealing competitions, where they both go around town and steal whatever they can find. Whoever steals the most wins. In the end they split the bounty

-they both make a deal with each other that they would cut out stealing together. It doesn’t go to plan and they steal to their hearts content

-they share heist tips and stories frequently. It’s quite cute.

King

-he always ends up getting involved in their heists by accident, and either runs away screaming or has to apologise and pay for the thing they stole

-he’s very against it. It’s like having a second Ban.

-He’ll try to buy them whatever they get the impulse to steal.

-Whenever they give him a gift he always asks like a million questions “where did you get this from? How much was it? Did you steal it? Did you get caught?”

-He’s always really worried that they’ll get into trouble. If they go out without him he’ll be sitting at home all worried

Gowther

-“You can’t do that, it’s illegal”

-They can’t go stealing while he’s there, he’s too obvious. “Why are you putting that in your bag? What are you planning to do with that?” He’ll always narrate what they’re doing (not intentionally though)

-He always questions the gifts he receives “did you buy this with money?”

-He doesn’t understand why they don’t just buy it with their money. They’re not broke anymore, what do they get out of this?

-he always questions what’s going on in their minds and what makes them want to steal

Merlin

-She finds it pointless, but sometimes she’ll decide that she wants to help

-Merlin will teleport the items that she wants away. Her S/O watches in awe

-Merlin often watches them steal. They’ll ask for help and she’ll just say “no”

-She wants to know the ins and outs. Why do they do it? What’s their tricks? What’s their past?

-She will often send them on missions to steal things that she needs.

Escanor

-He’s very against it and always tries to tell them that stealing is wrong.

-During the night he will really freak out and will probably draw a lot of attention to them. During the day he also draws attention for obvious reasons

-He writes them a poem to tell them that he doesn’t want them to steal anymore. Ironically, they steal the poem.

-Escanor always buys them expensive gifts in hopes that they’ll stop stealing expensive things.

Elizabeth

-She gets really upset when she finds out!

-She gives them the “stealing is wrong” speech while crying

-They don’t steal while she’s around because she gets really upset when they do that

-she makes them promise that they’ll never steal again

-She trusts them so she doesn’t question any gifts she’s received

Elaine

-she gets all mad at them and won’t speak to them for like a week, until she realises that it’s a habit from the past or something

-she teaches them how to craft so that they can make things instead of having to steal them

-If they steal anything of hers they should prepare to be yelled at

-She tries her best to get them to stop! She makes up all kinds of creative tactics.

Once again I’m really sorry for the long wait, I hope you have a lovely day 💛

#nanatsu no taizai #the seven deadly sins #meliodas #diane nnt #ban nnt #king nnt #harlequin #gowther #merlin nnt #escanor #elizabeth nnt #elaine nnt #admin is SLOWLY getting through the asks but she’s making progress!!!!

[dizzying-faust]

3 Men 1 Beach House

So I decided to start writing fanfiction and this is my first story hope you enjoy it!

May contain some slight N/S/F/W

Also on Ao3

“Hurry up! Hurry up! The storm is getting crazier!”

Yelled a bearded man with short brown hair. He was running to the beach house with two other guys following him, a short man with a long, blonde beard wearing what appears to be something of royalty and the other who was older than the two, almost in his 80s, wearing a woolen hat and a heavy beige coat. The three managed to get to the beach house in the heavy rain all soaking wet.

“Note to self, never try to go out boating before a big storm happens.” says the brown-haired man.

“Oh come on Greg!” the blond, bearded man yelled. “It’s not that bad! Back on Mewni, we Johansen’s all love fishing in the rain!”

“Yeah to you River,” The man, named Greg, replied. “But not us. Look at Joseph! He looks like he's about to pass out!”

“Don’t worry...about me…” The old man, named Joseph, tiredly. “I’m just not used to running that fast...blame old age.” As he finished his words, he walked slowly to the couch to catch his breath. Greg looked at him with a look of guilt.

“I’m sorry for making you run in that rain, I wished I could have brought enough umbrellas for the two of you. And I hate that you have to stay over here away from your wife.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll let Suzi know where I am. Say, where are those three girls of yours?”

“Oh, you mean the gems? They are probably taking care of the other gems back in Little Homeworld.”

When Greg finished his reply, he started walking upstairs to his (well actually his son Steven’s) room. “I’m gonna go change my clothes, be back shortly.”

While Greg disappeared into his bedroom, River looked at Joseph with a miffed look on his face. Not hesitating to take off his coat in front of Joseph, revealing his naked body. “Pfft! That Greg, what does he know?”

River turned around to speak to Joseph, but before he could say something he noticed how the old man was awkwardly staring into him, almost like he was in amazement of something.

“Ummm...Joseph?” River questioned. “Are you okay?”

Joseph immediately snapped out of his daze when he heard River’s words. “Oh, um….sorry. I guess I was in a zone. That rain was getting to me.”

“...Okay, I’m just going to talk to Greg.”

River walked upstairs as Joseph was resting on the couch to continue catching his breath. What was that moment?

----

Upstairs, Greg was laying on the bed, shirtless, he still couldn’t get over what happened today. It was meant to be a nice day out to go boating with his River and Joseph on the new boat he brought with his money. Ever since his son left to travel the states, the latter two became comfort buddies to him. Sure there was Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl, but they were busy with their own lives to hang out with him. Plus, it was nice to have male friends compared to the female friends he met. Though River almost ruined it by going diving into the ocean to go fishing his way. He almost started to drown until thankfully Greg was able to pull him out with a net that was installed with the boat. It also didn’t help that it was starting to rain which later turned into a big storm the moment they pulled him in. Still, despite this, he did admit it was nice while it lasted.

“Greg?”

Greg stopped with his thoughts when he heard someone calling his name. It was River who was also standing on the top of the stairs, shirtless. It didn’t take a while to notice how...kind hot he is with those abs. Come to think of it, he did notice during the boat trip when River was shirtless on the boat, he would always notice how hot he was. Wait, why was he thinking these kinds of things? It wasn’t like he was into guys was he? Before he could think more...unusual thoughts, he was interrupted by River calling his name again.

“Oh, sorry River! What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Is Joseph okay?

“Yeah, he’s just resting. Ya, mind if I join you?”

At first, Greg wanted to say no thanks, but for some reason, he just couldn’t say no.

“Sure I don’t….mind.”

River questioned Greg hesitance, but shrugged it off, walked over to the bed and layed down with Greg on the bed.

For the next few minutes, it was almost complete silence, like they didn’t know what else to say. They both just stared at the ceiling, along with their thoughts. Then, River suddenly broke the silence.

“Um...Greg.”

“Yes, River?”

“Do you think I’m a bad friend?” “What!?” Greg yelled out. “I don’t think you’re a bad friend at all! Sure you can be crazy at times, but not a bad friend!”

Despite Greg’s positive answer, it didn’t seem to uplift his mood.

“Is this about what happened on the boat?” Greg asked. “Because look as much as that nearly drowned, at least you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” River replied. “But I nearly ruined your boating trip. Maybe I don’t deserve to be your-”

Before River could finish, Greg picked him up from his shoulders to stare him in the face.

“Look River. I’ve met a lot of strange people, even my wife was just as strange as you. You may be crazy but you’re NOT a bad friend. You’re brave and strong. And that’s why I....”

Greg was almost tongue-tied at that last word.

“I….”

“I what?”

Greg couldn’t say anything. All he could do was move closer and kiss River on the lips. River was confused at this, but for some reason, he didn’t feel pushing Greg back and just let Greg finish the kiss. When Greg moved back, he was breathing heavily. Like, he can’t believe he just did that.

“Wha...what was that?” River questioned.

“I...I think I like you.” Greg answered.

“You what?”

“I mean I like, like you. I dunno when it came to be, but ever since you came to my life, I just have been having these feelings for you.”

As Greg finished his confession, he expected River to either react with disgust or scold him for the kiss. But instead, he reacted with a hearty laugh. And grabbed Greg on the shoulder.

“Oh, Greg.” River finally replied. “That is such a relief because I’ve been having feelings for you too!”

“Wait, what? You actually like...as in like like me?”

“Yep!”

“But don’t you have Moon, you’re wife?”

“Eh, she probably wouldn’t mind. After all, there is always room for one more.”

Greg was confused at how happily River was taking this. Especially this was a man who was already married and risking cheating on his wife. But on the other hand, he didn’t care. As long as River was happy, he was happy.

“So what do you want to do now?” Greg asked.

River grabbed the arms “Let’s make out.” And immediately kissed him, harder than Greg’s kiss. Greg didn’t hesitate and kissed back harder as well.

----

Downstairs, having woken up from his little nap, Joseph started taking off his hat, coat, and flip flops, leaving him in nothing but his shorts and a tank top. He still has his muscular figure, but he wasn’t as strong as he was in his younger years. He looked around wondering what was taking River so long, hoping he would be coming back downstairs after talking to Greg. Slowly, he walked upstairs, expecting that he and Greg were fast asleep.

But he could be no wrong.

What he saw instead was the two men, naked, making out. At first, he was about to shout his expected “OH MY GOD” line, but he didn’t have the urge to. In fact, he kinda liked seeing the two men making out.

As both Greg and River were tongue wrestling with each other, Greg spotted Joseph. The sight of him caused him to immediately push River off of him as he stumbled his words trying to explain himself.

“Oh Joseph, I...I didn’t see you there!”

“Were you two, making out?” he asked.

Greg was almost tempted to explain himself, but River stood up and interrupted him.

“Yes we were making out!” he answered the old man. “And what about it, we love each other and that’s final! What are you gonna do about it.”

When River said those last lines proudly, Joseph immediately walked over to him. Greg wasn’t sure what he was going to do to River. But what happened next was something that he didn’t expect. As Joseph went near River, he grabbed the blonde man by the shoulders, slowly moved near his face, and kissed him hard. Greg looked at this scene in complete shock, that the old man was suddenly kissing his new lover. And he wasn’t alone on this as River was just as shocked as Greg that Joseph was kissing him. He pushed Joseph away from him as he wiped his lip from that weird kiss.

“What the hell was that?!” River yelled in anger.

“That was a kiss,” Joseph replied. “I kissed you.”

“But, but why?! Aren’t you married?”

“Says you. Besides, Suzi is old news, was going to divorce me anyway, so why not get a new lover?”

River was in shock that he was cheating on his wife, though he wasn’t one to talk since he was doing the same to Greg.

“You know what!” Greg yelled out, “Who cares about our wives! My wife is gone and she probably would have been happy that I’m moving on. So honestly...”

As Greg said his last line, he crawled across the bed to Joseph, grabbed his head, and kissed him, hard and passionately. Joseph, despite the suddenness of this, kissed back and leaned over towards Greg. Greg started taking off his tank top, leaving him in nothing but his naked body, showing off his abs.

“Huh, didn’t know you still have muscle in you.”

“That’s what keeping healthy is for!”

“Hey!” River yelled out. “What about me?”

“Oh don’t worry,” said Joseph “You’re welcome as well!”

River squealed in delight as he joined back in with Greg, this time with Joseph around. What turned into a simple makeout turned into a three-man threesome. Greg was passionately kissing Joseph as River was kissing Greg’s back. All three men grinding each other with them moaning in passion, feeling themselves in the heat of this new love affair. As they were in the middle of this orgy, Joseph felt something in his shorts. Breaking from the kiss, he took off his shorts and sure enough, there was something sticking out of his underwear.

No….

“What’s wrong?” Greg asked.

“I think…” Joseph answered. “I think I got a boner.”

NO….

Greg crawled over to Joseph and noticed his erection. He starts pulling his underwear down and was met with his big, long…

NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

----

“Aw come on I was just getting to the good part!” Peridot yelled.

“No!” Josuke yelled. “I don’t fucking care! I’m done! I’m fucking done! God, I can’t get the image of Mr. Joestar’s balls out of my head. UGH!”

Apparently, Peridot gathered everyone to the beach house to listen to the new story she’s been writing. Ever since she’s been binge-watching the new Camp Pining Hearts reboot, she’s been on a roll with making these stories, or fanfics as she heard. But lately, it has taken to writing fanfics about people she knew.

“Oh come on, my fanfic was getting good. Right guys?”

The crowd, composed of Steven (via video call), Connie, Amethyst, Pearl, Garnet, Jotaro, Josuke, and Star, were all in agreement of what the heck was going on with the story. Especially, how it would have continued if Josuke hadn’t interrupted.

Steven and Connie just looked at each other silently in disgust. The former wished he could have stopped Peridot sooner, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Especially since she wrote stories about him and Connie before, minus the…weirder parts. Pearl’s reaction was also the same as Steven and Connie’s. Especially when she noticed how Greg was written, not himself in his story. Amethyst was different from the three as she looked like she was about to burst out laughing. Sure she was disgusted, but the way the story was written was so bad it was funny, but she held her composure to try and not hurt Peri’s feelings. Garnet didn’t show a reaction, but she also was not fond of Peri’s story. And with her future vision, she knew what happened next was not going to be even more pretty. Jotaro was also the same. He was thankfully glad his grandmother, Suzi Q, was not here to hear the story. Especially during the part where Joseph said he was going to cheat on her, considering their current issues. Josuke was the most expressive about his disgust with the story. To the point he wished Crazy Diamond to come and fix his eyes from imagining his dad privates and almost doing the do. Finally, Star sat there with a blank stare. Apparently, that story broke her that she couldn’t muster out the words. She just couldn’t believe she had to read about her dad cheating on her mom.

“So?” Peridot asked again, breaking the silence. “What do you think of my story so far?”

“Well…” Steven replied. “It could use a little work”

“Yeah, a lot of work.”

“Definitely, a lot of work.”

“Ditto.”

“Seconded.”

“Eh, it was okay.”

“Please…”

“...Uh, I mean yeah you do need a lot of work with your story.”

“Well,” Peridot looked at the paper. “There are a few errors, maybe I should go and fix them before I read the rest.”

“Few is saying something.” said Josuke before getting a hit in the head by an invisible fist (probably Star Platinum).

As Peridot is walking to the warp pad to go back to Little Homeworld and everyone is going back to normal business, they are all interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey everyone, we’re back!” yelled Greg as he busted in wearing his captain’s outfit. Alongside him were Joseph wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops holding baby Shizuka, and River, who had no shirt on and was just in his pants, apparently soaking wet.

“Hey, Dad!” Steven yelled over the phone.

“Hey, Steven! How’re your travels?”

“It’s been fine. Just taking a break. How are you doing?”

“Oh me, Joseph, and River just came back from a boating trip.”

“Yeah,” spoke Joseph. “It was a wacky adventure.”

“What do you mean whacky?” Steven asked.

The two men didn’t say anything, only pointing to a soaking wet River Butterfly.

“Dad,” Star questioned. “What did you do?”

“What? All I did was do fishing my way!” River angrily shouted out. “And in the end, we did survive. I even caught a big, long-”

River’s words were interrupted by the sound of Josuke screaming and running into the bathroom. They could hear the sound of him retching and throwing up. The three men stared at whatever the heck just happened.

“I was just going to say I caught a big, long mackerel. What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s a long story…” Steven meekly replied.

#c's writings #steven universe #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #greg universe #river butterfly #river johansen #joseph joestar #crossover

[yourfaveisyanderematic]

Fight or Flight

Hey, full disclosure: did not realize that second one was asking for HCs and not its own drabble.  So I folded the two together into One Big One to make up for it.

Stress was a fact of life, as intrinsic to a person’s reality as breathing.  Being able to work under stress—to make wise and timely decisions, to keep a cool head, to retain and recall crucial information—is a quality that anyone expecting to survive, much less make anything of themselves, must master.  It stood to reason, therefore, that the childish tendency to freeze under pressure, to panic, to make impulsive decisions (or no decision at all) was a detriment and something to be outgrown as soon as possible.  This was how it had been explained to you.

Knowing, of course, didn’t dispel the panicked fog in your head, or help you understand the stubbornly complicated problem in front of you.  Black printed letters and numbers glared back at you from the crisp page, describing a concept you were supposed to understand but might as well have been in a foreign language.  You felt your pen tremble in your hand.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.  We just reviewed this.”

You jumped.  Fugo’s eyes hadn’t left his book, but the room was so silent that he could hear the absence of your writing even from where he was sitting.  He idly turned a page.  It was strange, thinking of him as relaxed, given how he was only a few minutes ago.

Your throat was so dry.  You swallowed heavily, glancing at the glass of water just in arm’s reach.  Condensation on its surface glistened invitingly, but you hesitated in reaching for it.  Doing so required either putting your pen down (not an option), or…

Cold metal gleamed as you stared at the two knives stabbed into the table around your free hand.  One for each mistake.  You quietly, delicately raised your arm past them before leaning over to grip the glass.  

The water was refreshing and cold, but more importantly it was a distraction.  For a moment, you could focus on something other than the chemistry problem leering at you, or the knives counting how often you’d messed up, or…

You glanced over at Fugo and immediately regretted it.  He had abandoned the book entirely and was now staring at you, his expression almost—but not quite—something you could call a glare.

“Entrance exams are timed, you know,” his voice was gentle but still somehow accusatory, “the amount of time you’ve wasted on this problem would have been much better spent on another question.”

Deep breaths.  Deep breaths.  The implied suggestion was to give up and move on, but something in your gut told you this was a trick.

“I can figure it out,” you replied evenly, “this isn’t the actual exam; I should make sure I can do the material rather than worry about rushing.”

His expression barely changed, but you could tell Fugo approved by the brief lightening in his gaze.  He nodded, curt, and silence descended on the room once more as he waited expectantly for you to get back to work.  You looked back at the page.

14mL of water (18.01g/mol) reacts with 3g of calcium, creating…

Damn it all, your eyes were already watering again.  

When Fugo heard you were having trouble preparing for your university entrance exams and offered to help, you were elated.  He was a prodigy, someone able to easily understand and master the material you struggled with so much, and he seemed like a good tutor…even if he did get violent with Narancia once or twice.  

At first, everything seemed reasonable enough.  He developed a strictly regimented schedule of what you needed to know when, and that turned into regulating your sleep schedule and mealtimes to maximize how much information you retained, and that turned into…needless to say, your life became studying.  You ended up just staying at Fugo’s home to keep up with it all and ‘minimize distractions’.  It was getting to the point where the only time you had alone was when you were either asleep or in the bathroom.

Not that it wasn’t worth it!  You said you’d give anything to get accepted into your dream school, and with his help you were pretty confident about your chances.  It’s just that Fugo was…

Intense.  Aggressive.  Violent, at times.

Scary.

He hadn’t hit you—you never would have tolerated something like that—but Fugo wasn’t exactly a patient teacher.  His memory was perfect, and he only allowed a mistake to happen once.  You were too intelligent to get things wrong the same way twice, he said.

It didn’t matter that you tended to freeze when stressed.  This was just another flaw to be overcome if you had any intention of excelling, and you could do it with enough practice and enough pressure.  It didn’t matter that it seemed impossible, he believed you could do it.  You could do it, and therefore you had to.

If he pushed you enough, you would break through.  You found yourself believing it, too, throwing yourself into your studies to please him just as much as you were doing it to pass the exam.  You lowered your free hand, firmly situating it between the knives once more, and got to work.  Fugo made a pleased hum as the scratching of your pen began once more.

“That’s very good.  Keep moving, that’s all that’s important.  You won’t solve the problem by freezing.”  He flipped another page.

One of the numbers in this problem was superfluous.  Was it one of the masses?  The molarity of the product?  Maybe…you looked at the possible answers and back at your math.  How did you get this wrong last time?  

“If you get them all correct, I think you’re due for a reward.  We can go out somewhere for lunch, we haven’t done that in a while.  After that we could see a movie, I’m fine with pushing your anatomy review—“ loud, erratic knocking reverberated through the house, cutting Fugo’s musing short.  He looked at his watch with a frown.

“I hope that’s not a mission.  What bad timing…stay here, I’ll see who it is.”  He got to his feet, pausing by your table instead of moving directly to the door.  You held your breath as he checked your work; not just because you were nervous, but because he rarely got this close and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.  Glancing at his face to gauge a reaction was tempting, but he was already turning away, walking out the door and down the hall in quiet but quick strides.

“Remember to show more of your work.  I want to see every step of your logic,” he called over his shoulder, and then disappeared from view.

He seemed pleased.  That must have meant you were correct, or on your way there.  You smiled to yourself and began working again, but paused as you finally gave proper thought to something that had been bothering you for a while now.

“What am I doing?”  It was ridiculous how quickly you’d lost control of your life.  Why was Fugo the one deciding when you were ready for a break, or whether you were doing well enough, or when it was time to go to bed?  Why was Fugo the one deciding how far to push you and what you could handle?

Why was Fugo the one who decided when and how often you left his house?

The knocking—that evidence of another person, an intrusion into a world that only held you and him for weeks—was enough to embolden you.  It was time to set some things straight, reign him in, remind Fugo that he was your tutor and not your owner.  You got out of your chair, kicking yourself for wincing at the light scraping noise (why did it feel like you were doing something wrong?) and heading down the hall, wandering the turns and staircases that would take you to the front door, where Fugo had headed.

It was silent, here, silent enough that your footsteps sounded deafening even though you were doing your best to walk quietly.  Your tutor had made several additions to the walls to accommodate your stay; you passed printouts of your schedule, reference sheets for various formulas and several charts of the human body so you could review as you walked from room to room.  Even the quietness of the house was for your benefit.  Fugo really had made you his one and only priority.

That was the problem, you realized as you approached the sound of a quiet but heated argument, he was too invested in this.  You rounded the corner, finally entering the front hall.  Fugo’s back was to you, and he had the door open wide enough to talk to but not enough for you to see who was on the other side.

“…from her in weeks.  Even Buccellati’s getting worried, I can tell.  What are you doing?”  The visitor’s voice was shrill, boyish.  Familiar.  Narancia?

“Just because you never took your education seriously,” you could hear Fugo replying through gritted teeth, even from here, “doesn’t mean she has the same abysmal standards.  This is an important time for her.  Nothing can interrupt it.”

He had been keeping people away?  It made sense, in a twisted kind of way, but the idea still made your stomach turn.  You thought they just knew you’d been busy…

“At least let me see her, damn it!  This is creepy.”  You looked at Fugo’s hand, still on the door, and noticed with vague dread that he was clenching it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Absolutely not.  It’s clearly better to keep you away if you’re just going to be disruptive—“

Narancia must have rushed him, because you watched Fugo suddenly stumble back, flinging his arms forward to contain the other boy.

“Fuck you!  Hey!  Hey!  Are you in there?  Can you hear me?” Narancia yelled, forcing his head past Fugo’s arm.  They struggled for a few seconds, and then he finally caught sight of you, still frozen in the hallway.

“What’s going on?!  Hey, tell me!”

They’re fighting, they’re fighting.  You had to stop them.  Why couldn’t you move?  You couldn’t even open your mouth for words to come out.

“Enough!”

Fugo moved again, leveraging his weight behind his arm and forcing Narancia back a step.  He pulled back and struck a punishing blow, landing a direct hit on the other boy’s head with an almost unnatural force.  You watched his head snap backwards before the rest of him followed, tumbling end over end down the stairs.

Narancia was only still for a moment.  You were still running forward, on the verge of shouting his name, as he began to stand up, frantic concern replaced by a look of absolute murder.  He took a step forward…and stopped.  You collided with Fugo’s arm, thrown forward to prevent you from getting too close to the door, but Narancia didn’t come any closer, just pointed at Fugo accusingly.

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is!” Fugo shouted, and you were finally able to see the fury that distorted his handsome features.  “I don’t care if you’re on my team, Narancia, you try that again and I’ll kill you.  That’s the only warning you’ll get!”  It must have been unusually hot outside, because heat rose from the pavement in waves, warping your view of Narancia’s face.  Blood was streaming down his chin—no doubt his nose was broken—and while his eyes were watering, you didn’t think it was from the pain.

He didn’t say anything more, though, just turned on his heel and stalked off.  Fugo pulled you further away from the door, rougher than he’d ever been before, and slammed the door shut.  He was holding your arm tightly enough that you were starting to lose sensation in your fingers, but loosened his grasp immediately when you tugged away from him and stepped away.  He took several deep breaths, visibly shaking, but you didn’t dare try to touch him.

“…go back upstairs.”  He said in a low growl, after the longest pause.  It wasn’t a request, but you were too frightened to comply.

“I can’t.”

In the past, the glare he gave you would have scared you into immediate compliance.  Now, however, things had changed.  The naked reality of your situation prevented you from playing along any further.

“I wasn’t asking.”  Something—and you say that because it certainly wasn’t Fugo—grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed, sending you staggering back several paces.  What the hell was going on?  

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears now, and the stress made your breath come in quick and sharp gasps.  Fear worked its fingers into your limbs threatening to paralyze you, but you forced yourself to move your legs, to stand taller and meet his gaze even if you knew he was stronger than you.  

Keep moving, that’s all that’s important.  You won’t solve the problem by freezing.

That thought occurred to you first, his words echoing in your head as Fugo took another step forward and grabbed you by the arm once more, pulling you along.  The next thought that occurred to you was the fact that you were still holding your pen.

It was a beautiful thing, an expensive thing, given to you when you first started studying here.  A fountain pen, with an elegant wood case and a razor-sharp nib that fit easily into your hand.

It sank just as easily, you found out now, into Fugo’s arm, the one that was holding you.  He shouted, more from surprise than pain, and reflexively let go, allowing you to pull away from him and run.  You bolted for the front door, wrenching it open, but stopped before you ran through.

The world had changed for you, in a way you hadn’t realized until now.  The distortion you noticed earlier wasn’t because of the heat at all—it was actually quite cool today—but a strange, whitish-purple haze that shrouded the door and front steps.  Your instincts screamed at you to halt, to get away from it, as the withered grass and melted corpse of an unlucky sparrow registered.  You took a step back, but then remembered who was behind you and turned around.  And froze.

“Oh my god, what is that?” you whispered.

It was tall, tall enough that you had to look up at it even from here.  It moved in time with Fugo’s advance, strangely splotched skin fading in and out of view.  It growled, a low ragged noise you were only registering now, even though something told you it had always been there and you just hadn’t noticed it before.

Fugo paused.  Blood had already soaked that part of his jacket, and you watched droplets hit the linoleum as he pulled your pen out, holding it like some would a knife.  He looked you up and down, considering your words.

“You can see it?  Interesting.  I knew you had promise, but I had no idea it would go this far…now I really have to make sure you reach your full potential.”  He stalked forward.

You had nowhere to go.  You didn’t understand what was happening, but the haze was still there, and something told you beyond a shadow of a doubt that going through it would kill you, as easily as it did that bird.

Given the look on his face, though, it looked like Fugo might kill you anyway.

“Since you can see my Stand, it should be easier to explain this to you.” Fugo took a deep breath.  Even now, he was making an effort to speak to you calmly, but you still shrank back as he advanced.

“You have nowhere to go.  If you keep trying to run from me, I can’t promise you’ll be able to attend school in the condition I’ll leave you in.  I don’t care what kind of new ability you have, there’s no way you’ll win against me.”

He wouldn’t hesitate.  You saw it in his eyes, in the advance of the monster next to him, relentless and unforgiving.  Fugo was Death, and who could fight Death?

Panic screamed in the back of your head, but you weren’t frozen anymore.  You stepped towards him, not in defiance but in compliance.  

Submission.

“Okay.”  your voice was a whisper.  As if a switch had been flipped, Fugo’s face brightened, an expression that once made your pulse quicken.  You flinched as he brought his arm close to you, but the monster didn’t move with him, just watched silently as he draped his arm around your shoulders and began leading you up the stairs.

#yandere x reader #yandere fugo #yandere jjba #my writing #full disclosure: I WAS going to kill Narancia #and chop off at least a hand of the S/O #and then I realized 'hey! You've done Risotto and Doppio and you've got a Cio on the way!' #maybe go easy on the gore this time you fucking weirdo! #AND SO I DID. #by me

[heavensentgohansrage]

Sunflower Marimo

PG-13, 4958 words

Fluff and Crack, Magical Seeds

AO3

So in this post on my main blog I gushed over this adorable work by @kingofalltsunfish​ and sorta made a promise to write it for her lol

It may have happened almost over two years ago, and the art itself is even much older than that, but I knew I had to do it.

Even if the outcome is all over the place for so many reasons, it’s better now then never.

Sanji has been howling with laughter for the last half an hour, as he keeps understanding more and more the reason behind Zoro’s strange behaviour.

Ever since returning back to the ship at almost the middle of the night, Zoro has refused to leave Chopper’s infirmary, where he has spent the night instead of the boys’ quarter. Then, all throughout breakfast, he proceeded in arguing with Nami about his mysterious need to turn the Sunny against the location of the sun - or, in words of people who actually know how direction works, to turn west - even though the Log Pose is directing to north-east.

Nami eventually agreed, even though he refused to give any explanation whatsoever. Then, it was only when he checked - through more than one window, because, you know, safety first - that the shadows outside were stretched in alignment with the ship’s structure that he rushed from the galley and through the short way that the infirmary created to the backside of the ship.

The crew’s excitement as they followed right after him was short, though, as it turned out he simply had to pee. Looking at each other, the group asked Franky to check if there was something wrong with the ship - although it did not explain Zoro’s secrecy about it - but he quickly found out that everything was just fine.

It was just then when Zoro finally went out, but slowly so, as he opened the door way too carefully, and even then took his time to look around, clearly making sure the ship was still facing the same way as he had asked for. Weirdly enough, it suddenly was not good enough for him to get out, but just shouted that they could now turn it back.

Before Sanji could tell him once more that Nami-san is not one to order around like that, though, Luffy stretched his hand all the way to him, assuring that he would make it quicker for him- and pulled Zoro’s shirt back to him without sparing him a moment to object.

Zoro, as usual, crushed right at Luffy and most of the rest, like Robin-chan, who Sanji had the utmost pleasure to pull away; but as he was bathing in the delight for having her thanking him that, suddenly he heard Zoro grunting.

The instinct to stand guard for his Nakamas overcoming any other nature of his as usual, Sanji cut his blessings off right away and turn to the Marimo-head, who was gritting his teeth and shaking with effort, although there was nothing visible to be affecting him.

Usopp and Luffy were arguing with one another, seemingly sensing nothing themselves, but Sanji activated his Haki anyway, in case some Devil Fruit power was casting on him from afar.

“What are you doing, dumb Cook?”

Sanji blinked back at Zoro, who, weirdly enough, looked completely fine as he was standing quiet and still. Had he seriously stolen his attention for nothing? Was it all just about some stupid bet he filled, considering Zoro never backs down from a promise he makes?

Sanji frowned. “You gotta be kidding me- you weren’t okay just a second ago! Just what’s wrong with you today that you’re acting more weirdly than usual?!”

There was a flash of realization in Zoro’s eye, and suddenly he was giving him the kind of smirk he always has when he uses Sanji to his advantage, although usually it is only for his amusement. “Me? I’m completely fine. You’re the one who imagines things. See?” He stretched his arms to the sides and walked backwards, as though to give Sanji a better look of his entire body.

But then he walked right into Nami, who had returned from the helm on the front of the ship to their side.

“Not only you didn’t watch your mouth that entire morning, but now you don’t even mind crossing others’ paths?!” She rebuked him.

“Yeah, how dare you running into Nami-san so carelessly?” Sanji followed with a yell of his own.

Zoro tsked and scratched his head in annoyance, but Sanji cared even less than the indifferent he would have been anyway about him being sandwiched between the two of them.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She demanded, holding Zoro’s sides and turning him to her.

Zoro grunted again, this time like she was straining all the muscles in his body just by rotating him on his axis. Startled, Nami let go of him- but simply realizing her hands was like letting go of a swing that was spun 180 degrees, as in an instant he was turning his back on her, facing against the backside of the ship.

Everyone silently stared at him for a while, until Chopper started freaking out of the blue.

“Is it- Could it be- Th-that’s bad! Where’s the doctor?!”

“Calm down Chopper and tell us what’s wrong!” Usopp entreated him tiredly.

“Ahh, sorry!” Chopper circled Zoro, who still did not bother to change his position back, to be able to face him. “Zoro, yesterday when we split in the island and you wandered by yourself, did you come across sunflower seeds, or something similar, while exploring the island?”

“Yeah, I helped some old lady carrying her groceries, then the garden kept leading me to her backyards where there were flower plots, so it tempted me to try some. Why?”

Sanji felt a squeeze inside his stomach, but just like every time Zoro’s words affected him like that, he made himself to ignore it. He should know better than react that way to such an idiot who would not admit he got lost in a porch, for fuck’s sake.

“Then it is serious!” Chopper squealed and put both paws on his face.

Sanji patted him on his head, trying to soothe him as much as he could. “What it is then?”

“I’ve noticed the sunflowers here are a rare species of a clan-type.”

“Clan-type?” Robin parroted him with an inauspicious voice.

Chopper nods. “It is kind of plants which try to make other living beings to become like them instead of naturally reproducing. Luckily, this species is too weak to actually make a human into a flower, and maybe this is why the locals allowed themselves to grow them for their beauty. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t succeed to leave any effect at all.”

“Eh? But he still looks normal!” Luffy wondered as he searched for anything outstanding all over Zoro’s body, who was losing his patience by the minute.

“Didn’t you notice? As long as he sees it, Zoro can only face the sun!”

Sanji cannot help himself but losing it.

  -

  For the following days, Zoro spends even more of the day in the crow’s nest. He even stops looking for booze, too, as he has to make sure he drinks just as much as his body needs to deal with the amount of sweat he perspires during his workout, so unlike the first morning he will be able to hold it until the sun is down, when he finally can go out.

Since Nami asked Sanji so, he prepares breakfast for Zoro earlier than everyone, just before the sun is up, and delivers him lunch while everyone eats inside the galley.

Sanji understands it is serious, especially as out on the sea, the next battle can happen at any given moment; not only everyone will have to have Zoro’s back, the proud bastard will not even let them cover for him that easily himself.

In the meantime, though, he still takes advantage of that to make fun of Zoro every time. He cannot be blamed for not being able to stay quiet with a - now literally - moss-for-brain guy, who could not even figure out himself that the sunflower seeds he has eaten just before it all started were the reason for it.

As the sunflowers act the way they do because they know what is best for themselves, even without consciousness, that man is officially dumber than a plant.

“Enjoy your meal- unless you’re already full by photosynthesis,” he wishes him the first time he brings him lunch.

“It’s exactly noon, so make sure to warn us when you sense a Knock-Up Stream, South Bird,” he cheerfully remarks another time as he brings him a snack.

“Maybe you should consider renaming this one after Thousand Sunny instead,” he notes at one of the time he comes back to take the dishes, while Zoro was practising the movement of the 1080 Pound Ho technique with weights.

For the last bad pun Sanji actually has to dodge an attack directed at him, and each time it is still worth it. After all, if he has somehow spent the entire first day under the effect of the seeds facing the sun, which allowed him to find the right path back to the ship even later than usual, without getting his face burn- then at least Sanji can amuse himself by attempting getting his face red himself.

Although while not finding it as cute as it is amusing, of course. Not at all.

At any case, the rest of the crew takes their part in toying with the current member to get into an unfortunate situation, so Sanji is afraid he will soon run out of original good material himself - only Usopp, for example, has used up anything clever you could make with a comparison to the Sunlight Tree Eve -  but that until Chopper gets concerned about the lack of vitamin D Zoro will soon suffer from, as it is not clear when the effect will go away, and orders him to take his naps outside.

Luffy and Usopp get bored of it quickly, as the sun moves too slowly for the direction Zoro’s head leans to noticeably enough, but Sanji still manages to entertain himself with trying to guess the time according to the direction Zoro’s head is tilted to.

But that also means he stares at him more as he sleeps, and perhaps Sanji does more damage to himself than good while suddenly noticing how beautiful Zoro’s face are, once he is too peaceful to distract Sanji with some sort of annoyance. It even exposes some of his soft side he usually does not show, well hidden behind the stiffness the usually carries himself with.

Sanji is reminded of one of those rare times, where they got stuck with each other as circumstances made them split together from the rest of the crew; as they walked by a small waterfall, Sanji’s eyes caught a small rainbow it created. He got closer to make it illuminate over his hand, and only by luck Zoro was still not that far away once he raised his head to look for him. He called him, intentionally to warn him to not drift away- but was then surprised when the swordsman not only was marvelled once he noticed Sanji’s his finding, but was interested enough that he got closer to take a better look, touching Sanji’s hand in the process. Sanji somehow avoided jerking away, but it did make his gaze to lock on the full exposure of Zoro’s long, moss-green eyelashes as he was looking down. The way their arcs were as perfectly round as the sincere, more unalloyed than his katanas smile stretching beneath them caught Sanji’s breath. He had seen him smiling astonishedly like that before, like when they arrived at Water 7, but had never thought he would have ever care to share it with him.

Then the singular hazel eye looked back at him, which may have carried less variety of shades than a rainbow, but the natural phenomenon still had nothing in comparison to the depth and strength of the overall tone.

Okay, that is it, he should stop wasting time on bittersweet memories and focus on important issues, especially those which will actually grant him happiness, like making drinks for the ladies.

He manages to actually lose those previous thoughts in his new occupation, that he even manages to not pay attention to Zoro as he leaves a drink beside him, and passes him to Nami and Robin- the only targets that should matter.

And that is why it takes another whole day for anyone to notice that he became the one according to whom Zoro’s body changes the angle it is facing, overcoming even the sun’s position, whenever he is near him.

  -

  “Best. Development. Ever!” Usopp cries, rolling on the ship’s lawn while holding his sides.

“How the hell having our Swordsman losing control over his body is a good development?!” Nami scolds after him.

Luffy, who has been crossing the grass back and forth just like Usoop, suddenly clashes into the other- but it does not stop the two of them to bark out in yet another wave of laughter.

“We should find a yellow ball on the next island to throw at the Marines so he could fight them,” their Captain finally suggests.

“Great idea, so very helpful,” Nami sighs as she walks up to the duo to give them their justified punches.

Sanji has never had any special thought about his hair, really - unlike someone else’s, it is actually a completely normal one - but that situation makes him to actually wish it was not yellow.

Not that it means he plans to dye it to anything else, of course.

“Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?!” Chopper waves his arms helplessly, and jumps for a good effort. “It can’t be about Sanji’s hair resembling the sun!”

Zoro groans. “Either way, Cook- why don’t you go there too so I can give them a piece of my mind too!”

“Tch, good-for-nothing Marimo.” Sanji lights up a cigarette as he remains standing. “Now I won’t be able to stand close to either Nami-san or Robin-chan, for who knows how long, in case you’ll hurt them accidentally.”

“Won’t happen as long as you don’t give me a reason to try going after you, Ero-Cook.”

Sanji jumps in front of Zoro at once, pressing him against the wall with his foot on his chest. “You mean you actually won’t even try to control yourself when you have a lady in view?!”

Zoro holds his leg and tries to shove it off of himself, but that also means he has to try incline to another way; as he is physically not able to face a point even a little skewed from the one Sanji is at, an attempt like that is clearly utterly impossible- or at least looks to be as painful as trying to twist one’s hand beyond its maximum flexibility point.

Sanji smirks triumphantly. “Well, at least you finally won’t be able to ignore the truth anymore while it is standing right in your face.”

“What truth? That your women-obsession is a much more ridiculous sickness than mine?”

“What was that - ?!“

 “ - Didn’t you hear me? I told you to stop it!” Chopper, in his grown Heavy Point form, comes to stand aside them and force Sanji to step back. “I finally figured it out- it’s adrenaline!”

“Huh?”

“His body can't absorb light, so it searched for the next closest thing- something that drives itself to accelerate energy creation through cellular respiration, and I think it found it in the rush of adrenaline Zoro has been triggered to experience during all the times you angered him recently. You’ve teased him more than everyone when you came every day to bring him his meals.”

“That might be true,” Brook comments, “but when we tried earlier, Zoro was back to being attracted to the sun whenever Sanji was gone out of his sight. Even while searching for alternatives, it still doesn’t solve the original problem.”

“That’s true,” Chopper nods, “but I still think that it’s still progress. Soon his body will understand that the best way to get energy is through food alone, and will teach itself to get over that added instinct, just like there are a lot of instincts the human body forgets as we grow up.”

All the while they discuss this, Zoro has his eye closed so he will not have to stare directly as Sanji, who knows that he will not be able to get on with it for long himself. While he is currently not the one to be stuck in a state he cannot get away from, it can soon be him if Zoro will start finding things he could use to his disadvantage, like that time he caught him off-guard by the waterfall.

“Anyway, I’ll go hang back at the galley, where I better keep staying out of the zone of staring creepers,” he declares as he starts making his way back to the kitchen, even though it is too early for any dinner preparations.

“Like having to look at your swirly eyebrows the entire day doesn’t creep me out,” Zoro murmurs as his body spins in accordance with Sanji’s advance, which Sanji senses on his back way too well. Another roar of laughter commences, but is cut short as Sanji finally closes the door behind him- living the two boys in the direction of the sun fully exposed to the Swordsman’s range of attack.

Sanji puffs out smoke in relief. Being away from a compassionless eye constantly following and judging him, now he can finally think clearly: while he does not turn down Chopper’s speculation completely, Sanji still has a feeling there is something else that Zoro’s instincts connect between the sun and himself, even if not the shared colour.

Going over any association he has about the sun which he can somehow be also linked to him, he finds quicker than he would think an idea with a considerable possibility, and he is not happy when the solution he comes out with intensifies it on his face.

Unless he comes out with a better idea, though, or somehow he will be miraculously proven wrong even before that- he knows he will have no choice but to try it.

  -

  He waits until the next day’s sunrise, since the last dinner’s attempt has proven that Sanji still affects him even after the sun has sunk completely below the horizon, to the point the cook had to go out of his own kitchen to let him eat in peace.

While Zoro technically can get around with his eye closed whenever Sanji is visible to him, his lack of sense of direction for sure will take a disastrous turn.

Chopper volunteered to carry his next meals - Luffy tried to too, but everyone was too smart than letting him touch food that is not on his own plate - and Sanji hopes that it will not be the only excuse to not have to see Zoro, well, just about ever again in case he is wrong.

Sanji takes his morning preparation slower than usual, but inevitably, the time eventually arrives.

Despite peeking inside his pack of cigarettes, to make sure it is not empty, he throws the one he has smoked until that moment without taking a new one; he will have to face this situation head-on.

Getting out, he moon-walks his way to the crow’s nest.

Probably sensing him in advance, Zoro is standing where he can match the line of the sun, shining through the window, while having his back to the entrance when Sanji makes its way through.

“There’s no need to test it again every day, so just leave,” Zoro asserts.

Sanji sighs, as he for once wants to listen to Zoro so much. “Not before I try something I’ve thought about.”

“And since when do you have good ideas?”

Sanji crosses his arms. “When I rescued you from Crocodile’s cage? When I delayed Enel’s ark by attacking his engines before facing him? When I opened Enis Lobby’s Gates of Justice? Starting to find a pattern yet, human-plant? ”

A few beats pass, but finally Zoro’s shoulders slump with a sigh. “Fine, you have good strategies, but only when you’re unseen. Isn’t that part of the pattern too?”

“There’s no point if I don’t return to the light again, as much as you hate it.” Sanji rounds Zoro to meet a suspicious, unwelcoming eye that hopefully only hides the truth he has once witnessed from it, back at the waterfall.  “Supposedly.”

“Eh - ?” Zoro opens his mouth to utter, luckily, and by that makes the task easier for Sanji, as he can immediately use it to grab his face and meshed his own mouth to his.

Zoro tries to hum something, but Sanji has to make sure he acts as thoroughly as possible before he is thrown away through the window, and with each press of lips tries his best to make a profound contact, so the instinct holding Zoro captive will not be able to miss it.

Once overcoming his initial surprise, Zoro starts to react back with just as much force, not willing to let him take full leading so easily.

Instead of relief, like any normal person would feel for the cooperation, Sanji actually enjoys it. Thanks to becoming breathless, though, he does not have to face the painful temptation stretch it further than needed.

He somehow remembers then that he should check the results, as it was nothing but an experiment, and start jumping between different spots around Zoro.

“What the hell?” Zoro gasps, his head moving back and forth as he tries to catch a glimpse of him.

Grinning, Sanji stands right behind him and shifts him around. “It worked!”

Zoro blinks, but then stares out of the window he is now facing, which is finally not the wrong one to him, but just another window. A smile that only a free man can make is slowly drawn across his face, and he even releases a rare laugh that pulls at Sanji’s stomach much more than it should.

“How did you know what to do?” Zoro asks him.

Sanji slowly lets go of Zoro, eyes darting elsewhere. He clears his throat and lights up a cigarette, at long last.

“Unlike what Chopper said, I don’t think I annoyed you to the point your instinct will see me as a trigger to create energy, but that your body made it figure out that this is a human body, and you need the sun mainly for warmth- although it is something you get more effectively by a contact with someone else.” Sanji walks over to a window, although not one where the sun is seen; he is not that cold. “I’m the one who happens to touch you the most, during our quarrels, so I figured that was the reason you fixed on me, so I wanted to make sure you felt my warmth as effectively as possible.”

“Body warmth, huh…” Zoro mutters behind him.

They fall into silence, which Sanji desperately wants to get away from, but has no idea how to get out. Going near Zoro, ironically, has become intolerable.

“No, it’s both,” Sanji suddenly hears the other man says behind him, following by footsteps coming closer.

Sanji takes a long drag on his cigarette, and closes his eyes.

“Whether I liked it or not, you’ve been central in my life on this ship. All the times you got me to heat up, you influenced me to train even harder. I don’t depend on it, but by this point, it is almost as vital for me as the sense of Nakamaship I’ve developed."

Sanji huffs. “The point was that you’re a muscle-brain anyway.”

“Shut up, dumbass. I’ve simply persisted to one specific path - ”

This time, Sanji snorts.

“ - which made it hard for me to see alternative ones,” Zoro finishes explaining his insight, although a bit too annoyed for someone who has experienced one. It is not like Sanji want to ruin this moment for Zoro, but he has to get back on track, right after messing with their status quo.

This is how they communicate, and this is how it shall stay. Being able to fantasize a much more meaningful future with him than with anyone he has ever attempted to attach himself to does not matter.

“But since you keep trying multiple ones for no reason,” Zoro suddenly continues, “maybe combining to find a balance it will make you finally stop pretending like another person is better than you just by being born with the right set of milk glands.”

Sanji snaps his eyes open at that, forgetting all about his discomfort he has felt until just a second ago and coming forehead-to-forehead with Zoro. “Oi, just because you don’t appreciate that doesn’t mean you can talk about it like its speciality is unadmirable like that green head of yours.”

“It doesn’t matter what it is- you can keep pampering women, if it makes you happy like cooking for anyone regardless of gender. But you can’t let this cost your self-worth.”

The smoke from Sanji’s cigarette blocks his view, so he takes it out of his mouth for now. “Well, you did help to raise it during the last few days while I was constantly reminded of that stupid mistake you’ve done on a whim that I’ll never do, and I don’t see how cherishing women is beneath that. Then what do you suggest?”

“Blocking your path and see what you do about it.”

Before Sanji knows it, Zoro’s palms are on the back of his head and he is being pushed forward until their lips meet again, though this time for something simpler that still leaves the both of them frozen to their spot for the few seconds it lasts.

Shocked, Sanji tries to connect the different points that brought them to this- because if he has kissed Zoro to help him break through the seeds’ effect, Zoro has to have his own legitimate reason for this. He may not be dumb enough to force him like that to stop his so-called women problem, but it is too surreal for him that it could be what it looks to mean. How could anyone want him and yet trust him so much that they will not care about his admiring attitude toward others?

But Zoro’s eye, while not looking at him as tenderly as one would expect from someone with sentimental meanings behind this kind of action, is assuring it in his own way by staring at him with his frank, unreserved expression.

“Finally it looks like I'm the only one who was warmed,” Zoro smirks as he trails his fingers on Sanji’s burning cheeks.

“Shut up, shitty bastard,” Sanji murmurs as he flicks his hand away, but ultimately let Zoro’s fingers to comb some of his shiny hairs.

“Same to you, asshole.”

  ~~~

  Finally able to enjoy the sun properly, Zoro thinks back to the period of his life as a wanderer, where many times he had to walk under the warmth of the sun with hunger eating him from the inside.

Later, soon after joining Luffy’s crew, not only he did not have to worry about that- but he could actually build muscle more effectively, with no worry that his body would resist it- all thanks to one pesky, obnoxious cook coming abroad.

Even if there was a proper way to truly return him the favour, Zoro is not one to express that deep kind of gratitude directly, obviously, but since he happens to be the first one to get back to the ship from a stroll, for a change - even while the sun already barely presents in the sky - and only Sanji is there, as he stayed to look after the ship, he still wants to communicate it somehow.

He finds him leaning against the railing, watching the sea, and does not turn around as Zoro gets closer. The latter embraces him from behind with one hand, and turning his hair aside with the other so he could mouth the skin behind his ear.

Sanji sunk in a sharp breath, but his voice is mostly levelled when he speaks. “Are you bored?”

Despite Sanji is still uncertain about what they have started, as it is still too fresh for him- Zoro keeps being patient about it as usual: “No.”

“Then what's that about?”

Zoro smirks into his skin. “Isn't it clear by now? Disturbing you is always too tempting.”

“I thought you prefer doing that by picking on me until we start fighting.”

“Maybe, but that's when your mood is neutral.” He slowly nips his ear shell. “Now you're peaceful.”

Sanji is right by most probably figuring out that Zoro does not really have romantic moods, where all he wants is to be the man who initiates nice settings. He is a spontaneous kind of guy: he lets life lead him to find in a new island’s market something that the cook would like to receive only by a chance, and will not pull him to a place with unconventional, noteworthy settings, whatever that counts as, as letting it naturally occur around them is much better.

Just like waterfall creating a rainbow.

But when something reminds him of Sanji, he simply cannot help but look for him, no matter whether they end up trying to tear each other’s throats - and no matter what, there are still times where the cook makes him see red - or other behaviours that have to do with their proximity which feeds his satisfaction.

Because, as great as watching the sharpness in his eyes every time he uses an opportunity to drive him up the wall- being absorbed in the warmth of his smell and taste is quite remarkable, too.

“Sun's coming down,” Sanji mentions latterly.

Zoro hums into his shoulder agreement, even though he could care less about it so long Sanji is still there.

#zosan #zosan ficlet #my writing #marimo!zoro #plant!zoro

[queenofkings121-blog]

The Memory of Love

Warning: angst, mentions of cheating, character death (?)

*I noticed that most my writings follow a certain plot and I am truly sorry. I’ll try to change it up.* 

She stared at him with disbelief and shock. She didn’t want to believe it but the feeling of her heart shattering was too real.

“I thought I was over her, but I truly am not. I love you, but I also love her.”

She nodded wordlessly and walked out of their shared room at the tower. She didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. What could one reply to that? She didn’t hate him. No, she loved him too much for that. She was just disappointed and hurt. Three years of her life, three of the happiest years were spent with a man who she thought loved her and only her.

           The broken-hearted girl walked aimlessly around the great city of New York. The place was full of life and bright, but to her it was the exact opposite. Dull and lifeless. She finally broke down on a bench at an abandon park. It was hidden from the rest of the city, and due to the rustiness of the swings and the bench she could tell that it was old. She sat there with tears running down her face as she sat there staring into nothing.

Steve sat on the couch crying. He didn’t know what to do. For the first time since the serum life, he was lost. He loves you, but he also loves Peggy. It hurt so much to see her in so much pain but he was so happy to see his first love whom he thought was gone.

He jumped when the front door swing open and in walked the rest of his team. They all looked guilty, all but one. Bruce. He was angry. All he knew was that something was wrong. That Y/N was hurting. He doesn’t know how, he could just feel it. He just knew something was wrong and it had to do with Captain America himself. It took all his self-control to not let the Other Guy out but he was tempted to just so he could beat Steve to a pulp. He would’ve but his main concern was to find the woman whom he has come to adore and call his younger sister. He didn’t spare a look at the crying man and walked around the apartment looking for her.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he kept yelling as he frantically looks for her. He made his way back to the living room. “Where is she?!”

Steve looked up at the fuming man. “I don’t know.”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?!” he screamed as the green guy started to come through. The Other guy isn’t the most intelligent but he adored Y/N as much as Bruce did. She was the only one to calm him down and wasn’t afraid to be close to him and he was furious to know that she was gone.

“She just walked out. She-she… I lost her.”

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” he looked at his team members for backup only to see the same guilty look had adorned their faces too. “What the hell did you guys do?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid of the answer. It was at that moment that a woman walked in that the blood had drained his face. “P-Peggy? Wh-what are you... No. Hell no!” he turned to Steve. “You piece of sh—” he didn’t get to finish as the Other Guy broke through. Bruce grew incredibly taller and green. He started for the man on the couch. Everyone reacted in seconds trying to calm down the green guy but he was too far gone. He smashed everything and everyone in his path. He had gotten to Steve and started pummeling the blonde man.

“Bruce!” a voice screamed from the doorway and he stopped immediately and turned to her.

“Y/N/N?” the overly green guy asked.

“Yes. It’s Y/N/N.” She replied as she took a step forward and was stopped by voices of concern from the others in the room. She disregarded them quickly and walked towards the Hulk. “Come on big boy. Let Bruce come back so I can talk to him yeah?” she asked softly as she laid a hand on his big green ones. His eyes softened and he nodded. Within seconds Bruce stood where the green guy was.

“Y/N/N.” He cried and hugged her. He was relieved that she was back.

Their moment was broken when Peggy spoke up. “Steve? Are you alright.”

She turned to see Steve, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. He was bloodied and bruised. She watched as Peggy ran over to him and he gave her a smile as well as he could and she felt her heart shatter again. She looked at the rest of the team and she felt betrayed. They all knew of Steve’s infidelity and didn’t want to tell her. All except Bruce. She looked at the people she thought of as family, the people she loved and trusted with her life. Guess they didn’t regard her as the same. She silently walked to her room, along with Bruce, and gathered all her belongings. She had stuffed them into a suitcase. She looked at the dresser and saw the picture of them on the day he proposed to her. They had bright smiles on their faces and their eyes spoke volumes of love they held for the other. Where did I go wrong? She took off the ring and placed it next to the picture and continued out the room.

As she walked towards the front door she was met with the team. They looked down at the suitcase and panicked.

“Y/N”

“We can—”

“Wait—”

“Baby.”

The last one caught her attention. She turned to him. He was healed, not all the way but good enough due to the late Stark's creation.

“I have what I need. You can throw the rest away. The ring is on the dresser.”

“It’s yours.”

“It was when you meant the words you said when you gave it to me. Goodbye.” With that she walked out, Bruce following quietly. He shook his head shamefully at his team.

He walked her to the front door and talked with her. He had insisted that he go with her, but she denied saying that he was needed here. That he had work he needed to finish, and how he couldn’t save the world if he came to her. It took a great amount of persuasion and time to convince him but she did it. He didn’t want to, hell he hated the thought of it but she was right. As much as he hated the people he once thought of as family he knew that he was needed here. With one last tight tearful hug and a promise to keep in touch, he let her go. He knew she needed to heal from it all.

He walked into the room to see his team. He studied each one of them. Nat sat with her head in her hands shoulders shaking lightly. Clint had stray tears on his cheek as he stared at the wall. Thor was silently looking out the window. Tony was drinking from his bar. Steve was holding Peggy’s hand as she sat next to him. He would’ve felt sympathy for them, but he didn’t. He just stared with them with anger showing.

“Oh, stop with the self-pity. You guys did this, especially you Rogers. You knew that she loves you. You knew that she doesn’t trusted easily and yet she trusted you the most. Don’t sit there and cry to try to make yourselves feel better. Everyone sees you guys as heroes but you know what I see? I see a group of cowardly, pathetic, untrustworthy, selfish people.” He stated and then walked towards his lab. “I truly hope you are happy together.” He spoke to the couple on the couch.

They flinched at his words but knew they he was right. They were selfish for keeping this from her, but Steve felt the enormity of his words. He truly was a coward. A selfish, cheating coward.

They stood stunned as they saw the news. They couldn’t believe it. She was dead. They listened to the news and cried quietly. It has been two months since it all happened and everything hasn’t been the same. The laughter was gone. Light no longer shone into the tower. No one ate dinner together anymore. Movie night, taco Tuesday, everything was gone. Missions and briefing was the only interactions they had anymore. As for Peggy and Steve, they tried to make it work. After-all, this all happened because of them two. They tried but Steve was wrong about it all. And that is what made him regret it more. He gave up true love for the memory of love. He thought he had loved Peggy but he soon found out that he loved the memories he had with her. They broke up not long after.

“Today we mourn. Earth has just lost one of her greatest defenders. The body of Y/N King was found in her apartment in Las Vegas, Nevada earlier this morning. She was found by room service at 8 AM this morning. It is rumored that she committed suicide, but the officers are still invest---"

The newscaster’s voice was drowned out. They couldn’t bare to listen. Someone once asked, “How do you lose someone twice?” This is how. Steve got up silently and walked to his room. He blamed himself for it all. If he had trusted his heart, she would still be here. Hell, they would’ve been married by now.

He closed the door to his room and walked to the bed they once shared. He couldn’t sleep in it after  Y/N left, so he shared another room with Peggy. He walked over to the side Y/N usually slept on and laid down. He hugged her pillow tightly to his chest as he gripped the picture of them together on their engagement party. He screamed and cried hours upon hours. He wanted the pain to end. He fell asleep whispering her name and endless ‘I love you’s’.

Bruce was on the other side of the building trying to calm himself. He desperately didn’t want to believe that his little sister was gone. He screamed and cried. Just as the other guy was about to come out his phone rang.

The Avengers were captured and held in cells adjacent from one another. They were captured on a mission gone wrong due to a rat within their HQ. They screamed and tried to break through the bars but they were all secured in there.

The mighty heroes were silenced as a tall burly man walked in banging a stick against the bars as he walked.

“It is truly great to see you all. I have to say, I thought it would’ve been harder to capture Earth’s greatest defenders.”

“Screw you!” Tony yelled from his cell and he was met with agreements from Clint who was on his left.

“No thank you.” He walked to Natalie. “Hello love. It’s been too damn lo—”

He was interrupted by a voice that sounded from the dark corner. “Has anyone told you that you talk too damn much Gertrude?” She chuckled at the name. “Gertrude.”

“Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?” he questioned loudly and he frantically pressed the distress button. They all waited but no one came.

“Well, I’m insulted that you don’t know me. As for how I got in here, gas does wonders when released in the vents.”

She walked under the lights and all who were present gasped.

“You son of a bi—” he yelled as he attacked her. He was half way in the air when his body dropped on the ground. Blood seeping from the bullet lodged in his forehead. Y/N sighed disappointingly. “You promised this’ll be fun.”

“Y/N?” Clint was the first to speak up. They were all shocked to see her. Wasn’t she dead? Her head shot up and looked at them. She scanned the members and a smile adorned her face as she spotted him.

“Bruce!” she ran over to his cell, opened it and engulfed him in a hug. “I missed you!”

The man chuckled and hugged her back. “I missed you too little one.”

“You’re alive?” she heard Tony ask.

“Stupid question.” She replied as she helped Bruce release them all, not once turning to look at the hero.

“How?”

“That would be me.”  A new voice came from the door. “Hello love.” He greeted Y/N.

“Hello Loki.” She answered with a smile.

tags: @meyoko10

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x peggy carter #tony stark #bruce banner x platonic!reader #avengers #mcu #marvel #sam wilson #clint barton #natasha romanoff #gertrude!oc #angst #marvel angst #cheating #marvel cheating #loki x reader #fluff #character death #revived #captured #fluff if you squint #I just noticed that most of my fics have the same stuff to it #oops

[doggernaut]

i'm gonna send a ⭐ for your pick but i'd also like for you to talk about the time travel stories

This is gonna get long, so I’m just going to talk about the time travel stories here and get to the author’s choice bit later.

The time travel stories started because I always find it amusing, when rereading Check, Please from the beginning, to see Bitty and Jack glaring at each other in those early comics. I want to yell, “You’re going to be so in love!”

Which led me to wonder: How would Year 1 Bitty react if he woke up one day in the future, married to Jack? It would blow his mind. It kind of spiraled from there. It ended up becoming a way of showing Year 1 Bitty how good his life is going to be if he just hangs in there.

I was never going to write a companion/sequel from Jack’s perspective. It never even crossed my mind. But one day I started thinking about how different his reaction would be. With Bitty, he’s in shock because he can’t believe he gets to have all of this. At the time the fic begins, he hasn’t even come out to himself! And now here he is, apparently married to his straight hockey captain who hates him? It’s A Lot. 

(”Bitty is pretty sure most people don’t find out their college hockey captain is gay by waking up with them at some undetermined point in the future.Yet, here he is, in bed with Jack Zimmermann, who is very attentively nibbling at his neck. Jack Zimmermann, apparently, is super gay” is one of my favorite lines from this series.)

With Jack, his immediate reaction is that he’s done something hugely wrong. And then, once he realizes it’s some sort of time travel, his reaction is the opposite of Bitty’s – he isn’t amazed and reassured that things turned out okay, he’s upset that the one thing he’s been focused on for so long has been taken from him again.

Of course, his life is pretty great, he just needs to get to a place where he believes that. And he needs to learn there are things to look forward to, even if hockey isn’t part of the equation. 

(It was really tempting to go a lot darker with Jack. But I have a hard time writing dark. Part of me is very tempted to just go crazy with this one and write a second, Choose Your Own Adventure version that branches off into a darker storyline.)

Jack’s story is still in progress so I don’t want to give away too much. But I will say that it has been fun to explore their family life a few years after Bitty time travels, and I love writing adult!Jack’s relationship with his parents. 

If you have any specific questions about this series, I’m happy to answer them! 

#notenoughgatorade #ask box games #writing #my fic

[mearcatsreturns]

can’t help it (falling in love) ch. 2

Look. I didn't mean to write a second chapter. It just happened. It’s vaguely for @somekindofflowergirl, vaguely for me, because I needed it from Luka’s POV too. The softer, gentler courtship Abby and Luka could have had in season 12, even if I love canon. 

Chapter 2: Fools Rush In

Luka drums his fingers against the table, staring over at the little metal rectangle. He’s forty years old, it shouldn’t be this difficult to pick up his phone and call the woman he likes. (More than likes, he can’t even lie to himself.)

He and Abby spend plenty of time together now. It’s not like she won’t say yes if she’s free. In fact, she’d taken him out to dinner for his birthday just the previous month. Originally, a few of the others were going to meet them at the restaurant, but everyone had ended up cancelling for various reasons. It had just been him and Abby, so they’d just ended up staying for appetizers at the nice restaurant before heading to the Polish restaurant he’d loved when they were dating. It had been perfect, and Luka had known then that there was still something between them...at least on his end.

He hadn’t acted immediately. He didn’t want to rush it this time, didn’t want to scare her off or dive into something before they were ready. He’d needed time, and it had been nice, growing back into each other’s lives again.

Lately, he’s noticed a...change. He catches Abby watching him often enough, and if he sees a fraction of the hope he feels...well.

He’s tired of inaction, of sitting and pining. Even her friendship is enough, and if that’s all she wants, he’ll be fine with it. It’s just...if they have a chance to make something more, this time with a solid foundation of friendship and history, he wants that more than anything.

Finally, he musters the courage and dials the number he knows by heart. It rings twice before Abby picks up, and he can’t help but smile at her greeting.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Long time no talk, eh?”

“Yeah, the last 13 hours have been brutal,” she says in that wry way he adores.

“Well, to celebrate saving the girl yesterday and having the day off, I was thinking of making something nice for lunch, if you wanted to come join me.”

“Sure, as long as you promise it’s not that lamb gruel.”

“Heathen,” he says fondly, “but no, I’ll make something you will eat.”

“See you at noon?”

“It’s a date,” Luka agrees, then panics at his word choice. Not that he doesn’t want it to be a date, but if he scares her off, that would be the worst thing. He hangs up before she can react.

&&&

Abby shows up exactly at noon, and Luka tries not to stare or salivate too much at the low vee of her tee shirt’s neckline under her jacket. He’s honestly not very successful, but he really can’t help it. She’s so gorgeous, and it’s difficult not to remember that he knows what she looks like underneath it all.

He needs a glass of ice water. Or a cold shower.

They finish up their meal—a Mediterranean fish dish Abby likes—and Luka finds he’s unwilling for their time together to come to an end. Maybe, just maybe, if he keeps suggesting things, she’ll keep hanging out with him.

While he’s very tempted to suggest they stay in and watch something on TV, he’s not sure he’d be able to keep from jumping on her, or however the saying goes. And he very much wants to, but he needs to make sure it’s what she wants before potentially risking the wonderful friendship they have now. Instead he proposes a walk, and Abby agrees easily, though she seems to have doubts about whether her jacket will be warm enough.

Luka is willing to do whatever it takes to keep her warm.

It’s getting harder not to just reach for her hand when they walk beside each other. He wants to, and badly, and he considers compromising and offering his arm when she leads him onto a path by the lake. Finding out that she’s brought him to one of her favorite places to think, though—that touches something deep in him, fans the flames of hope that they might be ready to open up enough for a relationship.

He decides that if she can chance opening up, he can chance...something, while still not being too forward. He fights the nervousness churning in his gut and gently wraps his arm around her where they sit on the bench, letting out a sigh of relief when after a brief pause, they just continue talking (flirting). After a minute, when Abby leans into his chest ever so slightly, he again has to remind himself that he’s a grown man who might be in charge of an entire County ER soon. And that he needs to keep breathing.

Her light teasing followed by concern about whether he really does want the Chief position just cements what he’s been suspecting since roughly a week after he and Sam broke up—that he’s as in love with Abby as he’s been since she came to him in his hotel room five years ago.

Truthfully, he’s not sure he really does want to be Chief, but he’s far better than Clemente. Definitely better than any outsider they might find. Being Chief isn’t a particular dream of his, but it’s something he can pursue with less...finesse…than he’s attempting to pursue Abby.

It makes him wonder, though. He knows it’s fishing, but he can’t help it. Biting his lip, he asks, “What about you?”

“Well, I’m not in the running to be Chief. I should probably finish my residency first,” she grins.

Now that he’s put his arm around her and she seems okay with that, he can’t stop touching her. Or teasing her. He pinches her arm lightly in faux reprimand. “Okay, smartass. I meant if you had some big hopes, but I can see that you’ve already achieved your dream of always having a...feisty....response.”

She pauses for a long moment, and he wonders if the fabric of their reality is about to shift. His heart speeds up when she leans back further into his embrace and says, “There is one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I really want to see that space cowboy movie with Nathan Fillion. I’ve been meaning to since it came out, it just hasn’t happened yet.”

In spite of the pang of disappointment he feels, he’s still amused. And this? This he can handle and turn into more time with her. “Well, I guess if we hurry we could probably make a matinee. I can make your dream come true.”

If his hand lingers longer than strictly necessary when he helps her up, she doesn’t seem to mind.

&&&

Going to the movies with Abby is refreshingly normal. It’s fun to just relax and be them, but it’s also something they didn’t do much of when they were dating. It’s easier now to just be, to coexist together, enjoying each other’s presence in their quiet way. Luka doesn’t care much about the movie or care very much what happens, especially when the action picks up and Abby grabs at his arm and doesn’t let go.

His stomach growls as they’re leaving the theater, and he shrugs sheepishly as she laughs at him. They head to one of the hot dog vendors and are just starting to eat when the pages and calls come in from County. There’s a crisis, because of course there is.

They take his car, listening with alarm to the coverage of the plane crash. It’s going to be a busy night.

Luka isn’t wrong about that. It is busy, but not as brutal as it could have been. By the time he sees Baxter up to ICU and checks in on him, the ER has managed to get things under control.

He’s tired, but buzzed on the victory of a good night. He worked with Abby nearly the whole time, and it’s amazing how much better that makes things.

She’s his favorite person to work with. That’s been true since she was a nurse, and it’s doubly true now. He’s so proud of how far she’s come. Tonight, she was brilliant, and he can’t wait to see her become the great doctor he’s always known she can be.

He brushes off Clemente—yes, they probably should talk, but there’s no need to sour this night—and heads out into the ambulance bay on the way to his car.

He nearly runs into her, but he can’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Abby. Nor can he fight the glow of happiness when she returns it.

“How’s our favorite patient?”

“Huh? Oh, Baxter. He made it up to ICU and will be fine, even if I’m not so sure about his fiancee.” Meeting Baxter’s fiancee had definitely been one of those times where he wished he could just be absorbed into the floor.

Abby snorts. “Good, good. That’ll be...fun.”

“Not our problem, at least,” he says. And thank god. For a moment, he wonders what she’s doing out here, then he remembers that they aren’t in fact the only doctors who’ve had a night. “Is Neela all right?”

“She will be, I was just worried about smoke inhalation.”

“She’s tough.” Neela is, but he’s not thinking about her anymore.

Especially when Abby shivers. His evil brain immediately supplies the image of her doing just that while he runs his tongue between her breasts, and he internally yells at himself. She’s COLD, it’s November and she’s out here with only her lab coat.

He can be a gentleman, even if his brain isn’t convinced. Luka reaches out and rubs her upper arms, trying to warm her while still keeping a respectable distance between them.

Liar, you just want to touch her, he hears. He ignores that voice and smiles down at Abby. “Cold?”

“A little. I forgot my jacket inside,” she says, biting her lip. His eyes follow the movement, and he decides to hell with respectable distance.

Stepping closer to her, Luka trails his hands to her back, holding her in a lose embrace. She can still move away if she doesn’t want this, but he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t. “I’d offer you my jacket, but…”

His eyes widen when she steps closer and grabs the labels of said jacket. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.”

“Might get in the way,” he says, voice hoarse. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

“Nope.”

“We had a good night tonight,” he says, leaning his forehead against hers, brushing his nose against hers, their lips just centimeters apart.

It was a good night, even before they saved people’s lives, and Luka hopes it only gets better.  

So he presses his lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. When she responds, he pulls her closer until she’s standing on the tips of her toes, their bodies pressed against each other.

When she deepens the kiss, he can’t hold back a groan. Oh god, this is everything he’s wanted, probably since shortly after he met her, at minimum.

He can’t bring himself to care that they’re in public, at least not yet. Luka walks them back up against one of the stone walls, sliding a leg between hers so he can lift her a little more. He swallows her moan, sliding a hand under her top. He’s about to wrap her legs around his hips and carry her off somewhere, anywhere, so they can be together, when an ambulance zooms past, sirens blaring.

She pulls back and clears her throat, but he is still too undone to function.

“I need to finish up the case notes for Baxter and the, uh, the other patient.”

Abby is so adorable and uncertain, and she looks as thunderstruck as he feels. Luka licks his lips and brushes them across her forehead, letting her step out of the circle of his embrace. “See you tomorrow?”

She smiles, and everything in him sings with relief and joy. “Yeah. See you then. Good night.”

As she turns and walks back inside, he leans against the wall he’d just had her pressed up against, chest heaving. “Night.”

Luka doesn’t know how he’ll sleep, but maybe this once, his dreams will be as sweet as the feel of her in his arms, in his life.

&&&

Over the next couple of days, Luka worries that he’s losing his mind. He bounds back and forth between joy and despair from one moment to the next, and he just can’t. Was she as thrilled as he was? Did it mean more to her, or was it just a kiss? Just...getting caught up in the moment? Should they talk about it? Would this change nothing or everything?

Maybe it would have been easier if they had a chance to talk sooner, but in spite of them having a shift at the same time the very next day, they don’t get to talk. It’s insanely busy, and they don’t even end up working a single case together. They wave at each other in passing, but she’s already gone by the time he gets out of the last trauma of the evening.

She didn’t wait for him, which naturally makes him question everything. It’s not like she agreed to do so. Shit, maybe she didn’t even really want him to make a move the previous day. He desperately wants to call her and ask her if everything is fine, if it’s more than fine, but he gets an attack of nerves and starts sweating every time he types out a message addressing the issue. He can still text her about the normal, everyday things they’re accustomed to talking about, and he’s not sure if her decidedly normal responses are a good or bad sign.

A couple days later, they finally have a shift together again, and when Luka sees Abby in lockup, he shores up his courage. Kind of. He doesn’t need prednisone, but he needs a pretext. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way in.

Her eyes widen when she sees him, and she does that adorable, flustered thing she does when she’s nervous.

He can’t help but smile. “Hey there.”

“Oh, uh, hey.”

“I need to get the prednisone.”

He squeezes by her, and wants nothing more than to take her in his arms. She shivers when he brushes against her, and the sound fills him with hope. He still needs to check to make sure they’re okay, that he hasn’t damaged things with them, but it’s easier than he thought because it’s Abby.

Luka knows words aren’t his strong suit, though, so he fumbles for a moment before deciding to just be as blunt as he can. “Ah, I—well, I just want to make sure it was okay that I kissed you the other day.”

“Oh, I mean, I kissed you back, so...yeah. It’s fine,” she says.

“Good, good.” Initially, all he feels is relief. He hasn’t ruined it, and she did kiss him back. Then he takes in how still she is, how shuttered her expression has gotten.

Fuck. He panics again when she edges toward him, toward the exit. This can’t be all they are. They—she—deserves more than a glorious kiss followed by spluttering.

Then he sees it, and nearly smiles. The uncertainty, the hope, the setting—it’s five years ago all over again, and suddenly, he knows exactly what to do.

Reaching for her hand, he asks, “Abby?”

“Yeah?” She’s looking down at their hands, and he can see the nerves in her furrowed brow and tense shoulders.

“I—do you want to go out? Sometime soon?” God, why are his palms so sweaty?

Then her face transforms, and she smiles at him, pushing back her hair. It’s such a sweet and innocent gesture, and he nearly whoops with glee.

“You mean like date?”

He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He loves that she remembers, he loves that she’s willing to tease him, and he loves all that she is. “Yes.”

If anything, Abby seems startled at his vehemence. “Oh, okay. Um, yeah. Tonight after our shift ends?”

He’s about to agree, when it hits him. “That’s fine—wait, our shift ends at midnight. Is that…?” He wills all of his blood to not flow south, but it sure sounds like she’s implying their date lead a very specific place. One of their beds, to be precise.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned. But there’s definitely plenty we could do then.” Oh. Even he recognizes she’s flirting with him.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned, but there’s definitely plenty we could do then…” She’s biting her lip, and he’s absolutely positive she’s trying to kill him. At least he’ll die a happy man.

Luka tries to take some semblance of control of himself, if not the situation. “We could always go play pool. It is ladies’ night.”

“Is it now?”

“Mmhmm. Unless you were thinking of something more physical.” He can’t help but tease her; he’d nearly walked straight into the admit desk in shock and arousal when she’d said that to him all those years ago.

She turns the prettiest pink and raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, like you weren’t.”

“Always,” he says, and then he can no longer hold back. Taking her face in his hands, he kisses her. With the added clarity of their talk, knowing they’re going to be spending the evening together, and maybe longer (forever, he prays)—it’s better than their last kiss. Maybe better than any of their kisses, ever, though he’s willing to keep comparing.

He’s breathless and very, very aroused by the time she pulls back, running a hand down his chest. “Okay. See you later?”

A nod is all he can manage, but it does the trick. Neither of them want to leave, though, and risk breaking the beautiful spell. He’s seconds away of pulling her into his arms again when Chuny bursts in, sees their...state...and smirks. She talks to Abby, and Luka feels himself blushing. He can’t bring himself to regret anything that transpired, though he hopes Abby doesn’t feel awkward about getting caught.

“Luka?” He comes back to earth at Abby’s quiet question.

“Yes?” It’s a struggle not to tack on “my love” to the end of it, but he doesn’t want her to panic.

She stands on her toes, and presses a chaste but sweet and tender kiss to his lips. He was wrong earlier. That, that, is their best kiss so far, though he hopes they have a lifetime of them. “I’ll come find you when the shift is over.”

“Okay,” she says, and he smiles as he watches her walk down out and down the hallway, nearly skipping.

He can’t wait to see what’s next.

#luby #luby ff #er #er ff #luka x abby #nbc er #amber writes #hahahhaa #i'm weak

[fleur-de-leap]

A New Dawn - TFP Bumblebee x OC

#text post #original post #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #bumblebee #tfp bumblebee #dawn #oc #transformers oc #self-insert #because I have no self control #I'm going off the top of my head for what happens when sooo #bear with me here please #my ocs